Page 21 of Elvenbred

Spike flies, in your eyes.

That sounded unpleasant, as well. She flipped ahead, looking for something like a pillow monster. Ideally, setting a trap involving soft sheets. The words remained heavy going as well, and she found herself sounding out a lot more then she would have expected. Lazy sods.

At some point she dozed at her table, snoring, until the lock snapped.

Nora came in, carrying a tray

Triana stared up blearily at her, her neck popping as she tried to work out the kinks.

“Oh, dear,” Nora said sympathetically. “A bit through the mill, I think.”

Triana nodded. “A bit.”

Nora leaned in a bit. “You’ve got some print on your cheek, my dear. I think it came off the page.” She squinted at Triana’s cheek. “Ky-bit-cha. Through the jaw.” She gave a little laugh. “Well, that’s one way to absorb it.” She laughed again. “Go wash your face, and have a little breakfast. I think we’ll have mercy on you and take a walk around the garden, just naming things today. How does that sound?”

Part of Triana understood this was a little bit of petting, a small reward for the previous day’s hard work, but at the same time … she had earned a bit of reprieve. Once she had cleaned herself up and eaten, Nora made a gesture for Triana to precede her. The guard stood, uncertain.

“Erthrine, yes?” Nora said, speaking slowly and clearly so that Triana could understand (and applying words from the previous day’s vocabulary … a nice touch). “There is no place where she can go. We will walk around the courtyard and into the walled garden, and stay inside the flower fences. You may follow if you wish.”

Triana watched the exchange with interest. She had learned from her father to give subordinates little latitude, particularly the sentries. Even the smallest infractions yielded stern punishment. The Hearthmaster’s guard looked uncertain, before nodding his head unhappily. He followed some distance behind, just out of earshot.

Triana looked back and frowned.

“You don’t approve?” Nora asked. “We can go back.”

“No,” replied Triana hastily, “Please, let’s not. It’s a beautiful day, even if the sky’s the wrong color.” She used her head to gesture towards the guard. “It’s just that the guard had his instructions, and went against his lord’s orders. He’s not doing what he was told, but he’s trying to make it right by following.”

Nora looked down at the small stones that lined the path. “And so?”

“Poor discipline. My slaves know to do my bidding exactly as instructed. Exactly.”

Nora stopped, using the toe of her not-very-practical shoe to push some of the stones around. “Your slaves. Slavery. What happens if something happens that your slaves didn’t expect? That you didn’t expect, rather. What then?”

Triana felt on safe ground this time. “From superior to inferior. I give the orders, they follow. The moment that slaves are allowed to think for themselves in one regard, they will do so in others. Better a hundred dead slaves, than one thinking one. As an elven lord, my decisions are infallible.”

Triana could not see past Nora’s carefully neutral expression. “What if you give a bad order, and their work is wasted, or someone gets killed?”

Triana thought about that one. “We … because we have slaves, and they breed quickly and readily, we can afford some measure of waste,” she said, finally. She gave Nora a small smile. “Besides, if there are misunderstandings and mistakes, it is because they did not hear correctly … not because I gave a poor instruction. Depending on my mood, they may be punished to teach them a lesson, or merely sold to someone else who will use them for something much less desirable. I am known for being harsh, but fair, and my slaves were treated better than those of many, many of the elven lords.” She shrugged. “It only takes a generation, and the rest learn to hear better. If I buy new slaves, the old ones make sure that the new ones know what is expected of them. It’s not as if the individuals matter; they’re not people, after all, they’re slaves.”

Nora considered that for a long time, still playing with the stones. “Your world is very strange … and remember … it’s ‘I am,’ and not ‘I being.’” She smiled at Triana, changing the subject. “And profanity is generally not regarded as punctuation.”

“Damn right,” replied Triana.

They took several turns around the garden, talking about plants and trees and animals, and naming the names for useful plants, and their applications. Triana enjoyed this more than the focused work of the day before, though in many cases, she simply didn’t know how to respond. Nora kept the tone light and bantering, and Triana waited for the moment to get her own question in.

“The book you gave me to study,” she said, “with the creatures. What was that?”

Nora looked at her. “Before the cities had the protections of today, the spell-walls primarily, the larger Predators were kept at bay, but other things, lots of small things could … and did … get in. Just about all of them would hurt or kill you, so children had to learn from an early age what to do when faced with something from ….” Nora gestured out past the city’s outer wall. Triana could just make out the soft green glow of the shield above the thick stone wall. “Children needed to be able describe what they saw so adults could respond. Sometimes … usually … what they needed to do meant running away. Sometimes calling specialists to remove whatever had gotten in. Sometimes, rarely, especially if you were cornered, you fought.”

“And won?” asked Triana.

“No,” Nora replied, in a tight voice “but it gave you something to do while they were killing you.”

Triana shivered in the warm morning. “Sounds bleak.”

Nora grinned. “Being a slave sounds pretty bleak as well.”

For that, Triana could only shrug. She had hoped Nora would leave it. She really didn’t want an argument, especially when Nora controlled whether she left her room. She tried to respond matter-of-factly. “They’re one step up from animals, and a short one at that. No one asks a riding beast what it thinks about being mounted. They’re not us. They’re not people. Crude brains and crude emotions, and you can be fooled for a little while into thinking they’re something more, but you are always eventually disappointed. I discovered that as a child; I tried to make a little one into a companion, and I learned they are fine as pets, but don’t think they have the capability to be more than that. Plus, they’re very short-lived, there is no point in getting fond of one because it’s going to be too old to be of service or dead soon enough, and there you are, your heart breaking over something that was always going to be ephemeral.”