The sun had barely crossed two finger spans across the sky before she was loaded onto the wagon and her shackles anchored to the iron bar. The human overseer driving the horse drawn cart along the winding narrow streets, yelling to clear the way. Dracna watched. Listened. They came to a gate and the human pounded on it and spoke to the ones who opened it. He remounted the cart and passed the gate, going to another gate, this one of metal bars lifted up and passed beneath. They entered a dark cave. Pausing, the human rattled something. Sparks. Then a flame. The flame transferred to a lantern and that extended forward on the hooked end of a pole and set in a bracket on the cart. They moved again, an island of light into the dark tunnel. Dracna noted walls of shaped stone, grooved stones beneath the wheels of the cart. Cool darkness with only echoing creaks of the cart, the rumble of the wheels and the clop, clop step of the horse.
Soon she heard other hooved feet on stone. Other rumbling and creaking with occasional shouts. They came out to a wide passage, wide enough for two carts to pass each other. Indeed the floor had white stones laid out in arrow designs, one almost under them pointing right along the passage and the other left on the other side of the passage. The wall was marked also, white letters saying “Garden District”. Lanterns could be seen behind and ahead as the cart moved out along the right hand path. They passed turnouts, marked “Temple District”, “Dragon Ward”, “Gryphon Corner” and exited one that said “Eastern Fountain”. The cart climbed up and back into the sunlight, the gate open before them as they emerged to a small walled yard. The human took down the lantern and extinguished it. Then waved at guards as the outer gate opened and they moved out into the streets once more. Older buildings. Large houses mixed with the towering tenements of red brick and timber. At one of these they pulled aside, turning at an alley and knocked on a gate in an archway wall.
“Who are you and what do you want?”
“Delivery from Gazakral to Mistress M’he.”
The gate swung in and they entered a space surrounded by levels of walkways and rails, linked by stairs tucked in small caves along the walls. Several Ghenid in chainmail stood near- all the ring of spots coat pattern denoting the E+ (click)yelfua clan. A few of other clans - brown rosette of Adkhee, the chartreuse undercoat of Mokhree and even one nearly all black of the NightHide or Rhu’onwha. There were also some humans in orange-brown clothes. Two cousins of the clan took Dracna from the cart as the human unlocked her. Fight or wait? "Watch before acting. Listen before speaking." they had said in the tribe. She would wait, watch and listen. They wrinkled noses at her smell and pulled her silently up the stairs to the third level and a large ornate door. One struck a metal plate with the handle of a knife. They opened the door into a room with thick carpet, tall tree-like candle holders and a large wide chair on which sat a creature- wrapped in cloth but showing spots of light brown fur and black spots in rings. Tall rounded ghenid ears showed on either side of a pile of blonde hair like a human instead of ghenid mane. Red Ghenid eyes around which black paint had been applied. The fur of the face shaved away down to the grey skin and that, covered in light tan powder. The lips under the black leathery nose, painted red, and spots of red on the cheekbones. The black nails of hands and feet also painted red.
Dracna was thrown down in front of the chair.
“The S’oang, Queen of Clan E+Yelfua of Incaras, M’he.”
The figure rose from the chair and descended to stand above Dracna. She grabbed Dracna’s collar, pulling her close. The eyes now intently boring into Dracna's. “You are mine. By the law of the city, until your cost is paid, all you have and all you gain, is mine. Obey and serve me well and gain place. Do you accept my Chain as part of my clan and tribe?” The hand didn't release it's grip on the collar.
Dracna considered- the three armed and armored warriors and this ridiculously colored S’oang (matriarch). Here at least things were right with females in charge. If it was like the tribes in the north was uncertain. “Yes, S’oang.”
M’he placed her Chain, repeating the ritual a dozen times. “By the law of our kind you are forever more mine. I am the matriarch of the Clan and you will obey me and my warleader and warriors! Don’t even think you can trick me. I know all the tricks and then some.”
“Tricks, Oang?”
“You can’t buy your freedom with tomb coin. You can’t hide coin from me. You can’t use your Shadow nor ghosts against me. You can’t run from me or try to hide in the city. I know all and I see ALL”
Dracna thought “Tomb coin?” Then she saw, coin offered to the fire and hidden in her tomb, then ghostly coin summoned for the night, only to return to the tomb at the touch of sunlight. “This one is smart too.” she noted to herself.
M’he spoke to her warriors. “This will stay in the starting chamber. Remove the irons.” Turning back to Dracna, “What is your name cousin?”
“Dracna.”
“You will heal and show me your worth in three days. You will take my Chain every day. Obey and pay me the price to buy you from the slave trader, plus the costs of feeding and keeping you and you will be of use to me. Fail and I will make you a broken thing before sending your ghost to serve me in the underworld. Damage mine and you will pay. Try to chain what is mie and you will pay.” Again to the warriors. “ Take her to the chamber.”
Dracna was grabbed and hauled up by the two warriors and taken out a side door to another room - this with a cage containing a straw mattress, and a bucket. They removed the manacles and irons from her legs and pushed her into the cage before locking the gate.
Dracna almost laughed to herself, but then felt at her neck the thin ghostblocking collar as well as the thicker slave one. If this strange creature of a S’oang of the clan told her to rest and heal, then she would. She climbed onto the mattress and fell asleep.
She awoke to the smell of cooking meats and other foods. Her stomach grumbled. She heard voices. A faint sound of a strange cry, part wail and short droning call, rhythmic and repeating with variation. Dracna listened to it trying to figure it out. Some kind of bird song? Other voices chanted with the call and when it stopped there was a mass of sharp clacking sounds and stomping. M’he arrived with her guard. “Dracna, I am told you are a northern barbarian, is this so?” She spoke the human language.
“Yes, north.” replied Dracna in the same.
“You fight. What other abilities do you bring me?”
“Abilities?”
“You speak Atan, how well?”
“Say less. Hear, think more.”
“Can you read?”
“Yes. Much read.”
The matriarch turned to one of her guard. “Akhireena get a stylus and tablet.” That female left the room and returned with the items, passing them through the bars. M’he said to Dracna “ Write the words ‘I will obey the queen.’”
Dracna laid the tablet, a shallow tray of wood with brown wax, on the ground. She gripped the pointed stick called “stylus” in her fist and carefully scratched the letters and words into the wax. She showed M’he the finished words.
M’he grinned, a quirked lip on one side barely showing any tooth. “Only a few here can read and write. Your value is increased. Where are your war-band and cra-mueo?”
“In tribe. Not bring.” Dracna’s ears perked as the strange bird song resumed. “That, what bird?”
M’he flicked an ear back. “Music. Humans play instruments like lyre and samisen. They make that sound and may sing.”
In the tribes they sang and drummed. Dracna had no idea of what lyre or samisen was. The sounds made her mane flatten and tail tuck.
M’he called. “Bring Dracna food and water!” The drumming of running feet combined with creaking boards of the floor and open walkway outside. “ I give you food at the price of Chains. Yes?”
Dracna agreed. Such was always the way. The Matriarchs offered food if your hunting was poor or you had no goats. Some eat slaves rather than take chains. The strong and powerful forced Chains on lessers or accepted chains in making deals. M’he, as Clan matriarch and tribe leader, claimed her as was her right, and to be expected. Still Dracna had waited to present herself for the Chain until a collared female human had brought a tray with meat, bread and a pitcher of water. Another dozen placed. Dracna felt the strength of the Chain in her stomach, almost purely pulled to M’he. Very few on her. This spoke of power, influence and high status.
M’he spoke again, her gaze was a predator looking at prey.”What other value do you bring?”
Sister and tribe chains? Far away and only the males in her band could be commanded, though by now sister had plenty of chains on them. Knowledge of the movements and hiding places of the northern tribe? Not very useful to this city matriarch. Dracna considered. All ghenu fight. Drcana a bit better than many. What else? “Me Ghost bind. Makes little thing move.”
“Ah, Your Shadow has poltergeist powers. Yes, useful. What of your other ghosts?”
Dracna shook her head. “No powers”. She would keep her brother’s ability to make dreamlike images and cause fright.
A snort from the matriarch. “You may eat now.” She motioned the human to pass the food and water across the bars. Then she, the human and her warriors left, closing and locking the door. Dracna ate quickly and then set to rubbing arms, legs and gently massaging her tender ribs and muzzle. Using claws to comb her matted coat. Undoing the ties in her mane. She tested her strength against the bars. Nothing. She pulled up a floor board and found the bars connected to more bars under the boards in her cage. No escapes. With nothing to do but rest and heal, she curled up on the mattress and slept.
Two cousin warriors awoke her in the morning. “The S’oang wants you washed.” They unlocked the gate and ushered Dracna out. They guided her through the doors to the walkway and down the stairs to the open space surrounded by the walls and walkways. Buckets of water. One poured on her. Then a brick that smelled of flowers, soap, rubbed over her. More water poured over. A human in orange-brown robe with a leather collar brought a bucket of brushes and combs. One of the warriors, Akhireena, spoke. “This will groom you. You will allow it.”
Dracna affirmed she would and was seated on an overturned bucket so the smaller human could reach. She considered how enjoyable it was to have a slave comb and brush her again. It made her think of her slave, Ikheerha, probably still at the Rat’s Nest or maybe with the gnome Verborin. In time she would reclaim what was hers. She would need to have status in the tribe. Currently, she had nothing.
A young heavy set female approached with several other young females and an older lame male. The slave backed away. Dracna noted that that her two warriors had also stepped back. Trouble. She carefully stood.
The heavy female walked forward and pushed into Dracna. “I am the S’oang’s daughter and you will take my Chain now!” The followers spread out around her.
She knew the ways of Clan and her own kind. In the Tribes. Maybe the same here. “I will not. The S'oang said to obey only her.’ she replied in Ghenid. She had no status in the tribe and clan. No mother or sisters to call upon. This would be her first advance. Or she would be taken down for fighting the S'Oang's daughter.
“Hold this one!” Commanded the chubby female. The lame male stood beside the S’oang’s daughter and the other young females came to grab her from behind and sides. Dracna let them . She pushed forward, pushing the leader back as her minions pulled on Dracna. She suddenly pushed back, causing them all to fall. Twisting free she bit and punched. Rolling to stand, she dodged a swing and kicked the male into his leader. She blocked and avoided unskilled blows, as she punched exposed throats and slashed and kicked. “Enough! Stop!” commanded Akhireena, grabbing the young leader and hauling her away while the other faced down the other females.
A voice came from above. “You fight well northerner.” It was M’he, looking down from the third floor walkway, her lip quirked and bearing a measuring look. “Your first job is to train my fighters.”
Did she tell them to do that? Or did she hear? S'oangs! Scheming pricks! Was she going to face retribution as the matriarch supported her daughters status against Dracna? “Yes, S'oang.” replied Dracna, forcing herself to keep her ears up and between painful coughs from her broken ribs. Still, she had made a stand and where this took her in the push for status.
The description of the "ye-old-subway" was really fun. Of course Dracna had no idea what it was or what was going on, but the little pieces, once put together, were so obvious and fun for us readers who do. The concept of different creatures reacting differently to instruments is very intriguing. I'll definitely have to adapt that concept to my world. Cheers. One problem I found with this chapter was, where Gazakral was a bold character that I loved to hate, M'he didn't seem much of a character at all. She felt empty, like a plot devices who'se sole purpose was to be conniving and impeed Dracna. She did stuff, but none of it I felt were from a character. Your paragraphs are much easier to digest now; they feel more concise. Man, Just when I thought Dracna wasn't plotting and planning enough, she began plotting and planning. Very well timed, I'd tip my hat if I wore one.
Thanks for the words and insights. They give me things to chew on and cogitate over.