Post by mayonnaise on Aug 22, 2006 10:32:13 GMT -5
A new book I am working on, I am planning for this to be a full book. And, if it comes through, a quartet. Either way, here is the first chapter. The reason it looks messy is because I typed it in Word Perfect. If I need to change this, just tell me and I will. I have not used the grammatical check on the whole thing yet, I want to finish the book before I edit. So, without further ado, here is Chapter 1 of Book 1 of the series, A Veiled Threat.
In the Queenscove house, a loud crash could be heard. The servant picked himself up off the floor, midway down the staircase. The tray he was previously carrying now sat at the bottom of the wooden staircase, along with an interesting display of red wine and glass. Cursing as he trotted down the stairs, the servant quickly began picking up the pieces of glass. He knew a cook or another servant would come to see what the noise was soon enough. The problem was that Ephraim, the clumsy servant, knew that the red wine was not coming out of the deer hair carpeting at the bottom of the stairs.
As he had expected, a cook stood at the top of the stairs a minute later, waving around a wooden spoon. “Ephraim!”, she nearly yelled in her high-pitched voice. Ephraim cringed at the screeching. “Just wait till your masters hear about this . . . ,” the cook threatened, staying in the high yell. Ephraim shrugged as the cook went off muttering. After sweeping up the rest of the glass, Ephraim took that and the steel tray back up to the kitchen. When he appeared in the door, most of the kitchen staff gave him a wary glance. He ignored that and dumped the glass into a nearby garbage can.
Armed with a clean steel tray and more wine glasses, along with a glass pitcher, Ephraim headed for the staircase, being very careful not to slip on the wine. A house cleaner bustled over from the ground floor, giving Ephraim a look as she started cleaning the mess. Ephraim politely tipped his head and headed down the main hallway of the mansion, going around different people, guests and servants alike. Finally reaching the dining room door where the hum was coming from, Ephraim balanced the tray as he opened the large wooden door and stepped inside.
Several guests were dancing on the polished wooden floor in the middle of the room. Music came from a small band at one end of the dance floor. Around the rest of the room, various servants could be seen, waiting on the eighty tables throughout. Ephraim headed for his masters’ table, where they required him to serve. He had never figured it out, it was either to keep an eye on him or because he was a good worker. Either way, Ephraim usually served his masters, with very few exceptions.
“Wine, Lord Halridge?”, Lord Jacinth asked to his dinner companion as Ephraim began pouring the rich, red wine into glasses. The guest nodded and turned to a female partner beside him, which was his wife. Ephraim placed a full glass in front of each person, not spilling a drop. He was careful as too not spill any of the rich wine on the Lords’ expensive clothing. Lord Jacinth nodded at him. “Leave the pitcher here. Go and see if they need help in the kitchen,” he said as he sipped on the wine. Ephraim nodded as he back away, then walked out of the dining hall.
Back in Ephraim’s room, the attractive serving clothes lay in a cleaning basket. They now dressed Ephraim in rugged work clothes-a loose, elbow length tunic and knee-length breeches, topped off with a study pair of boots. After inquiring with the kitchen, Ephraim saw that they needed him outside. Plenty of the guests had come by horseback and it was time to do the evening chores. As Ephraim was an expert at serving and waiting, he rarely worked outside, but he did what he needed to.
Ephraim walked into the musty-smelling stable, spotting a groom dressed as practically as he was. Hurrying over to him, Ephraim found he was to brush, water and feed all of the guests’ horses. Ephraim nodded and walked off to the first horse, a piebald mare. Ephraim ran a currycomb over her, then a finer brush. A comb worked wonders on the matted mane and tail. Done with that, he picked up the fifty-pound back of oats with surprisingly ease and poured it into the feed bucket by the mare. Then he stopped. To get water, he would have to go all the way out to the pump. Sighing, he picked up the oat bag and laid it near the next horse stall. That done, Ephraim walked out to the water pump with a large bucket that would fill several smaller watering tanks. Walking back with the heavy burden, he filled the water and continued down the line, watering all the horses before going back over them with a brush and oats.
Ephraim finished the last of the horses, about an hour from when he started. He wiped the sweat off his tanned face and walked out of the barn, back to his room for a bath and some clean clothing. After finding he had no bath ready, Ephraim made a face as he headed for the public baths on the ground floor of the house. He had always preferred privacy to the big, open baths. As his usually private bath was not available, Ephraim stripped his clothes and dove into the large pool, cleaning quickly.
Ephraim had just closed the door of his room when a servant came by. “The master wants to see you in his study,” the servant said before hurrying off. Ephraim rolled his eyes. Usually, when someone made a mistake around here, it meant getting beat with leather, bread and water rations for a long period or other cruel punishments. Sometimes, Lord Jacinth inflicted these even upon a hard-working perfect servant.
Ephraim trudged up the winding carpet staircase, a different one than before. This was the main staircase, which lead to each of the three stories in the house, not including the basement. He topped off at the third story where his masters’ rooms were. Trudging heavily up to the door that lead to the master suite, Ephraim could only wince at what the next punishment would be as he knocked on the door.
Lord Jacinth was looking over the day’s reports when he came across Ephraim’s earlier mishap. He laughed. “The young fool. Red wine on the deer hair carpet? I will need to deal with this . . . ,” he said as he looked the account over. Then he looked up. “Sharon?”, he asked. An older male servant came to the study. “Find Ephraim and tell him to come see me,” Lord Jacinth said, a cruel smile on his face. Sharon, used to this in his thirty years of working, nodded.
“Yes, my lord,” Sharon had said and hurried off. A few minutes later, he heard a knock on his door. “Come in,” Lord Jacinth said loudly to speak through the door. Ephraim did so, closing the door behind him. Jacinth motioned to a chair in front of his desk. He sat there for a minute, fiddling with papers before looking up at Ephraim. “Your behavior today was unacceptable. Do not say it was an accident; I do not care. Ephraim, you are on extended work hours from seven in the morning to ten at night. You will get bread and water rations twice a day, in the morning, and at night.” Jacinth sat back with that same smile on his face. Ephraim struggled with himself not to argue and lost.
“My lord, the carpet has a large bump at the botto-.” Jacinth cut in. “I said I did not care. Your extended hours now last a month instead of the two weeks I had previously planned. Begone!”, Jacinth said with a sneer. Ephraim nodded, not surprised and left. While it seemed it did not affect him, deep inside, he was fuming. It was an accident!, he thought as he walked down the spiral staircase to his second story room.
Ephraim unlocked his room door and locked the door behind him, plopping onto the deerskin cot on the floor. It had been a long day, especially with Lord Jacinth’s new punishment. Extended work hours . . . as if I did not do enough already . . . , Ephraim thought as he rolled over on his cot, about to go to sleep. This was a miserable life. Unfortunately, Ephraim did not know what to do about it, or what he could do about it. Period.
The sun shone through the window early in the morning, waking Ephraim up for his new schedule at six o clock. Ephraim quickly got out of bed and dressed casually, thinking he could change if he needed to. Lord Jacinth had said to report to his office in the morning. Ephraim went out of his second-story room to the main staircase. He just about ran up the steps. Luckily, there was no one for him to knock over.
Panting ever so slightly, Ephraim knocked on his master’s door. He could just hear the faint “Come in”, through the thick wood. Ephraim walked into Lord Jacinth’s study, where Jacinth was busy reading a book and didn’t pay any attention to Ephraim for a few minutes. Finally, Ephraim coughed innocently. Jacinth looked up with an icy glare. “I’ll tell you when I am ready, boy!”, he said rather menacingly. Ephraim meekly nodded and waited.
Jacinth read about twenty more pages of his book, consuming over half an hour of Ephraim’s time before he finally put the book down. “Alright, boy. I want you to change out of those pretty clothes and go split some wood in the barns. You may stop at the kitchen on the way to receive your daily ration.” Jacinth picked his book back up without another word. Ephraim stood there, waiting for a dismissal. “What are you waiting for, boy? Begone!”. Ephraim fled out of the room.
The door to Ephraim’s room opened as he walked out, in rough clothing, ready-although maybe not wanting to-do some hard work. He trotted up a side staircase, wincing as he saw the stained glossy wood, now looking like a murder scene. He walked into the door of the kitchen, where the head cook handed him a loaf of bread and a glass of water. Ephraim drank the water, but only ate half of the bread, wanting to save some for lunch. The bread was dry and rather hard, but it was food nonetheless.
The half-loaf of bread in his pocket, Ephraim headed to the woodpile. The Queenscove house was heated with many fireplaces, and splitting wood was a full time job. The lengths of wood were already stacked and ready to be split. Lord Jacinth kept all of the house and grounds in good working order. Ephraim picked up a large axe that was hanging nearby, wiping the steel blade off with the end of his shirt. Satisfied, he slammed the axe into the wood with a thunk! The axe went half-way through the tough wood, revealing the pale streak down the middle. Two more blows and the log was split in two. Ephraim nodded his approval and positioned another piece.
The sun was beating anybody that was outside to pieces. It was in the middle of summer, and although Marenk was mostly mountains, up on the foothills, it could get very hot in the clearings. Ephraim was no exception to this, and he was sweating profusely around noon. Tired, he leaned on the axe, not for the first time either. He brought out the bread and devoured the rest of it. Bread and water rations are not exactly the best thing to be working on, he thought. His deerskin tunic was laying on the ground nearby, being used as a sweat rag. Ephraim used this and wiped the thick sweat off of his face and chest before picking up the axe with sore hands and striking once more into the tough wood.
The time was three o clock, and Ephraim spotted a messenger servant coming towards him. Finally, something else to do!, he thought. The servant hurried up in his bright clothing.
“Ephraim, I have a message for you.”, he droned in a bored voice. “Lord Jacinth saw that your work with the guests’ horses yesterday was unsatisfactory, and you are to go see him right away.” Without another word, the messenger walked off with a smug smile on his face. Jacinth had few servants whom he liked, but this was one of them. Ephraim cursed as he split a last piece of wood before laying the axe down where it had previously lay. His tunic was soaked with sweat, and it had been wrung out several times. Ephraim’s hair and chest dripped with sticky sweat. I am a mess, that is sure, he thought wryly as he plodded off to go see his master.
The same knock Ephraim always used came through the thick wood door of Jacinth’s study. “Come in!”, Jacinth barked. Ephraim opened the door and slipped into the study. Jacinth looked him over with disgust. “Don’t you dare sit in my chairs, boy. You are a stinking mess,” Jacinth scolded. Then he shook his head. “On to business. The oats you gave the horses last night were not good, and several of the horses got sick. Because this is a big affair, since they are not even my horses, you will be beaten with a whip. Go to the stables where this will take place, then get out of those...”, here Jacinth motioned to his clothing, “nasty things and get cleaned up. In case you haven’t noticed, you are to use the public baths now. I want you to go help in the kitchen afterwards. You are dismissed.” Ephraim nodded shakily and walked out of the room.
As soon as the door shut, Ephraim slammed his fist against the brick wall in the upstairs hallway, making no noise but tearing his knuckle open. He grimaced and wiped it on his tunic. I can’t take this anymore!, Ephraim thought despretly as he walked, slowly, to the stables. I don’t know how, but I have to get out of this...inhumane place. I couldn’t choose what oats I gave those horses!, he thought. Ephraim resignedly shook his head and hastened towards the stables.
Ephraim quickly walked into his room, hoping no one would see him. Blood dripped off of his clothing where the leather whip had hit him repeatedly on the back. Black and blue bruises covered that which was not tore open. He swore as he changed clothing and sopped up the rest of the blood with his dirty clothing. The bleeding had stopped by now, but the cuts were still wide open. He would have to bandage them later. For now, Ephraim slipped on a loose, casual knee-length tunic on to walk to the bathhouse, his decent clothing in one hand.
Fortunately for Ephraim, the bathhouse was empty. Most of the servants bathed early or late, not in the middle of the afternoon. Ephraim carefully washed each of his cuts, his whole body aching with the torture of not much food, a lot of work and the beating. Ephraim was a hard boy for his age, and fairly strong. He did much manual labor. But even the strongest man would have trouble to go full speed in this condition. Then it dawned on Ephraim.
Since I will not be able to work at my best, Lord Jacinth will just punish me even more!, he thought, stopping in his tracks. At that moment, something was built in Ephraim; a desire to get out of this mud hole. When Lord Jacinth saw he couldn’t work like he did before, he would just punish him even more. Jacinth was a very cruel man. Ephraim started planning and plotting. There was just one thing that really mattered at the moment, and that was to run away.
The next morning, Ephraim awoke at four o clock. It was still dark outside, and he had about two hours to think of a way to get out of the Queenscove house. Getting out would be the easy part; it was not getting caught after he was gone that Ephraim was worried about. The punishment for running away was a branding, and slavery for life. He knew he would need to take food or a way to obtain food in the woods. His general plan was to just hurry as fast as possible to the Sheonn border and enter to one of the big cities. The plan was a solid one, but it was going to be hard to pull off. A determined glint came into Ephraim’s eyes. One week from now, I will escape, whether I am ready or not, he thought.
The cock crowed outside and Ephraim rolled off of the cot onto the glossy wood floor. The night before, he had shredded his tunic into straps of leather and hid them well in his room. With the leather and bread saved up from the week, Ephraim figured he could escape cleanly. Putting those thoughts aside for now, Ephraim went back up to the kitchen for the days work, hoping to steal some bits to take with him.
As Ephraim carried different items and helped with cleaning and chopping during the day, he found that the cooks were not a bit interested in what he was doing past his work. He had secured one large and one small knife, various bits of food and other small items from the kitchen during the day. If someone found them missing, they would hopefully think that they had just been lost. This happened fairly often in the Queenscove house, with all the parties and balls that went on near constantly.
Ephraim went to his room early that night, a tribute to his hard work in the kitchen. During the time he had alone, he began working furiously with the items that he had, trying to make some kind of bag with the leather and clothing. As he found he had no needle, he found this task to be near impossible. He sighed and leaned back, his eyes hurting from the dim light of the candle, and fell asleep.
During the next week, Ephraim raided nearly every room in the house, getting a surprising amount of objects to be used on the trip. As he had never been to school, past learning how to read, Ephraim didn’t know exactly how far it was from here to the capital of Sheonn, Na’ furac. He did know it would be about three to four weeks of traveling time, making his meager supply of bread not enough to feed him. Ephraim figured he could make some kind of trap or kill some animal to nourish him for the trip.
The week flew by, busy as Ephraim was. Finally, that day came. The day he had planned to escape. There was a window in his room leading to the outside wall and to a small gate there. There would be guards on duty, but Ephraim had studied their patterns well enough to get past them, he hoped. He worked hard, but didn’t pay much attention to the work. After receiving his nightly ration, he went to bed. The window had no clasp, but Ephraim had been cutting on the edge with a knife during the week.
The window came off with a very small squeak. Ephraim waited a minute, listening. Satisfied there was no sound coming from anywhere, he secured his home-made pack to his back, made by a needle he had stolen from Lord Jacinth. Ephraim took a deep breath. He looked around the room where he had lived most of his life. Shaking his head-he wasn’t sad in the least-, Ephraim put a hand on the window sill, and vaulted out the window.
In the Queenscove house, a loud crash could be heard. The servant picked himself up off the floor, midway down the staircase. The tray he was previously carrying now sat at the bottom of the wooden staircase, along with an interesting display of red wine and glass. Cursing as he trotted down the stairs, the servant quickly began picking up the pieces of glass. He knew a cook or another servant would come to see what the noise was soon enough. The problem was that Ephraim, the clumsy servant, knew that the red wine was not coming out of the deer hair carpeting at the bottom of the stairs.
As he had expected, a cook stood at the top of the stairs a minute later, waving around a wooden spoon. “Ephraim!”, she nearly yelled in her high-pitched voice. Ephraim cringed at the screeching. “Just wait till your masters hear about this . . . ,” the cook threatened, staying in the high yell. Ephraim shrugged as the cook went off muttering. After sweeping up the rest of the glass, Ephraim took that and the steel tray back up to the kitchen. When he appeared in the door, most of the kitchen staff gave him a wary glance. He ignored that and dumped the glass into a nearby garbage can.
Armed with a clean steel tray and more wine glasses, along with a glass pitcher, Ephraim headed for the staircase, being very careful not to slip on the wine. A house cleaner bustled over from the ground floor, giving Ephraim a look as she started cleaning the mess. Ephraim politely tipped his head and headed down the main hallway of the mansion, going around different people, guests and servants alike. Finally reaching the dining room door where the hum was coming from, Ephraim balanced the tray as he opened the large wooden door and stepped inside.
Several guests were dancing on the polished wooden floor in the middle of the room. Music came from a small band at one end of the dance floor. Around the rest of the room, various servants could be seen, waiting on the eighty tables throughout. Ephraim headed for his masters’ table, where they required him to serve. He had never figured it out, it was either to keep an eye on him or because he was a good worker. Either way, Ephraim usually served his masters, with very few exceptions.
“Wine, Lord Halridge?”, Lord Jacinth asked to his dinner companion as Ephraim began pouring the rich, red wine into glasses. The guest nodded and turned to a female partner beside him, which was his wife. Ephraim placed a full glass in front of each person, not spilling a drop. He was careful as too not spill any of the rich wine on the Lords’ expensive clothing. Lord Jacinth nodded at him. “Leave the pitcher here. Go and see if they need help in the kitchen,” he said as he sipped on the wine. Ephraim nodded as he back away, then walked out of the dining hall.
Back in Ephraim’s room, the attractive serving clothes lay in a cleaning basket. They now dressed Ephraim in rugged work clothes-a loose, elbow length tunic and knee-length breeches, topped off with a study pair of boots. After inquiring with the kitchen, Ephraim saw that they needed him outside. Plenty of the guests had come by horseback and it was time to do the evening chores. As Ephraim was an expert at serving and waiting, he rarely worked outside, but he did what he needed to.
Ephraim walked into the musty-smelling stable, spotting a groom dressed as practically as he was. Hurrying over to him, Ephraim found he was to brush, water and feed all of the guests’ horses. Ephraim nodded and walked off to the first horse, a piebald mare. Ephraim ran a currycomb over her, then a finer brush. A comb worked wonders on the matted mane and tail. Done with that, he picked up the fifty-pound back of oats with surprisingly ease and poured it into the feed bucket by the mare. Then he stopped. To get water, he would have to go all the way out to the pump. Sighing, he picked up the oat bag and laid it near the next horse stall. That done, Ephraim walked out to the water pump with a large bucket that would fill several smaller watering tanks. Walking back with the heavy burden, he filled the water and continued down the line, watering all the horses before going back over them with a brush and oats.
Ephraim finished the last of the horses, about an hour from when he started. He wiped the sweat off his tanned face and walked out of the barn, back to his room for a bath and some clean clothing. After finding he had no bath ready, Ephraim made a face as he headed for the public baths on the ground floor of the house. He had always preferred privacy to the big, open baths. As his usually private bath was not available, Ephraim stripped his clothes and dove into the large pool, cleaning quickly.
Ephraim had just closed the door of his room when a servant came by. “The master wants to see you in his study,” the servant said before hurrying off. Ephraim rolled his eyes. Usually, when someone made a mistake around here, it meant getting beat with leather, bread and water rations for a long period or other cruel punishments. Sometimes, Lord Jacinth inflicted these even upon a hard-working perfect servant.
Ephraim trudged up the winding carpet staircase, a different one than before. This was the main staircase, which lead to each of the three stories in the house, not including the basement. He topped off at the third story where his masters’ rooms were. Trudging heavily up to the door that lead to the master suite, Ephraim could only wince at what the next punishment would be as he knocked on the door.
Lord Jacinth was looking over the day’s reports when he came across Ephraim’s earlier mishap. He laughed. “The young fool. Red wine on the deer hair carpet? I will need to deal with this . . . ,” he said as he looked the account over. Then he looked up. “Sharon?”, he asked. An older male servant came to the study. “Find Ephraim and tell him to come see me,” Lord Jacinth said, a cruel smile on his face. Sharon, used to this in his thirty years of working, nodded.
“Yes, my lord,” Sharon had said and hurried off. A few minutes later, he heard a knock on his door. “Come in,” Lord Jacinth said loudly to speak through the door. Ephraim did so, closing the door behind him. Jacinth motioned to a chair in front of his desk. He sat there for a minute, fiddling with papers before looking up at Ephraim. “Your behavior today was unacceptable. Do not say it was an accident; I do not care. Ephraim, you are on extended work hours from seven in the morning to ten at night. You will get bread and water rations twice a day, in the morning, and at night.” Jacinth sat back with that same smile on his face. Ephraim struggled with himself not to argue and lost.
“My lord, the carpet has a large bump at the botto-.” Jacinth cut in. “I said I did not care. Your extended hours now last a month instead of the two weeks I had previously planned. Begone!”, Jacinth said with a sneer. Ephraim nodded, not surprised and left. While it seemed it did not affect him, deep inside, he was fuming. It was an accident!, he thought as he walked down the spiral staircase to his second story room.
Ephraim unlocked his room door and locked the door behind him, plopping onto the deerskin cot on the floor. It had been a long day, especially with Lord Jacinth’s new punishment. Extended work hours . . . as if I did not do enough already . . . , Ephraim thought as he rolled over on his cot, about to go to sleep. This was a miserable life. Unfortunately, Ephraim did not know what to do about it, or what he could do about it. Period.
The sun shone through the window early in the morning, waking Ephraim up for his new schedule at six o clock. Ephraim quickly got out of bed and dressed casually, thinking he could change if he needed to. Lord Jacinth had said to report to his office in the morning. Ephraim went out of his second-story room to the main staircase. He just about ran up the steps. Luckily, there was no one for him to knock over.
Panting ever so slightly, Ephraim knocked on his master’s door. He could just hear the faint “Come in”, through the thick wood. Ephraim walked into Lord Jacinth’s study, where Jacinth was busy reading a book and didn’t pay any attention to Ephraim for a few minutes. Finally, Ephraim coughed innocently. Jacinth looked up with an icy glare. “I’ll tell you when I am ready, boy!”, he said rather menacingly. Ephraim meekly nodded and waited.
Jacinth read about twenty more pages of his book, consuming over half an hour of Ephraim’s time before he finally put the book down. “Alright, boy. I want you to change out of those pretty clothes and go split some wood in the barns. You may stop at the kitchen on the way to receive your daily ration.” Jacinth picked his book back up without another word. Ephraim stood there, waiting for a dismissal. “What are you waiting for, boy? Begone!”. Ephraim fled out of the room.
The door to Ephraim’s room opened as he walked out, in rough clothing, ready-although maybe not wanting to-do some hard work. He trotted up a side staircase, wincing as he saw the stained glossy wood, now looking like a murder scene. He walked into the door of the kitchen, where the head cook handed him a loaf of bread and a glass of water. Ephraim drank the water, but only ate half of the bread, wanting to save some for lunch. The bread was dry and rather hard, but it was food nonetheless.
The half-loaf of bread in his pocket, Ephraim headed to the woodpile. The Queenscove house was heated with many fireplaces, and splitting wood was a full time job. The lengths of wood were already stacked and ready to be split. Lord Jacinth kept all of the house and grounds in good working order. Ephraim picked up a large axe that was hanging nearby, wiping the steel blade off with the end of his shirt. Satisfied, he slammed the axe into the wood with a thunk! The axe went half-way through the tough wood, revealing the pale streak down the middle. Two more blows and the log was split in two. Ephraim nodded his approval and positioned another piece.
The sun was beating anybody that was outside to pieces. It was in the middle of summer, and although Marenk was mostly mountains, up on the foothills, it could get very hot in the clearings. Ephraim was no exception to this, and he was sweating profusely around noon. Tired, he leaned on the axe, not for the first time either. He brought out the bread and devoured the rest of it. Bread and water rations are not exactly the best thing to be working on, he thought. His deerskin tunic was laying on the ground nearby, being used as a sweat rag. Ephraim used this and wiped the thick sweat off of his face and chest before picking up the axe with sore hands and striking once more into the tough wood.
The time was three o clock, and Ephraim spotted a messenger servant coming towards him. Finally, something else to do!, he thought. The servant hurried up in his bright clothing.
“Ephraim, I have a message for you.”, he droned in a bored voice. “Lord Jacinth saw that your work with the guests’ horses yesterday was unsatisfactory, and you are to go see him right away.” Without another word, the messenger walked off with a smug smile on his face. Jacinth had few servants whom he liked, but this was one of them. Ephraim cursed as he split a last piece of wood before laying the axe down where it had previously lay. His tunic was soaked with sweat, and it had been wrung out several times. Ephraim’s hair and chest dripped with sticky sweat. I am a mess, that is sure, he thought wryly as he plodded off to go see his master.
The same knock Ephraim always used came through the thick wood door of Jacinth’s study. “Come in!”, Jacinth barked. Ephraim opened the door and slipped into the study. Jacinth looked him over with disgust. “Don’t you dare sit in my chairs, boy. You are a stinking mess,” Jacinth scolded. Then he shook his head. “On to business. The oats you gave the horses last night were not good, and several of the horses got sick. Because this is a big affair, since they are not even my horses, you will be beaten with a whip. Go to the stables where this will take place, then get out of those...”, here Jacinth motioned to his clothing, “nasty things and get cleaned up. In case you haven’t noticed, you are to use the public baths now. I want you to go help in the kitchen afterwards. You are dismissed.” Ephraim nodded shakily and walked out of the room.
As soon as the door shut, Ephraim slammed his fist against the brick wall in the upstairs hallway, making no noise but tearing his knuckle open. He grimaced and wiped it on his tunic. I can’t take this anymore!, Ephraim thought despretly as he walked, slowly, to the stables. I don’t know how, but I have to get out of this...inhumane place. I couldn’t choose what oats I gave those horses!, he thought. Ephraim resignedly shook his head and hastened towards the stables.
Ephraim quickly walked into his room, hoping no one would see him. Blood dripped off of his clothing where the leather whip had hit him repeatedly on the back. Black and blue bruises covered that which was not tore open. He swore as he changed clothing and sopped up the rest of the blood with his dirty clothing. The bleeding had stopped by now, but the cuts were still wide open. He would have to bandage them later. For now, Ephraim slipped on a loose, casual knee-length tunic on to walk to the bathhouse, his decent clothing in one hand.
Fortunately for Ephraim, the bathhouse was empty. Most of the servants bathed early or late, not in the middle of the afternoon. Ephraim carefully washed each of his cuts, his whole body aching with the torture of not much food, a lot of work and the beating. Ephraim was a hard boy for his age, and fairly strong. He did much manual labor. But even the strongest man would have trouble to go full speed in this condition. Then it dawned on Ephraim.
Since I will not be able to work at my best, Lord Jacinth will just punish me even more!, he thought, stopping in his tracks. At that moment, something was built in Ephraim; a desire to get out of this mud hole. When Lord Jacinth saw he couldn’t work like he did before, he would just punish him even more. Jacinth was a very cruel man. Ephraim started planning and plotting. There was just one thing that really mattered at the moment, and that was to run away.
The next morning, Ephraim awoke at four o clock. It was still dark outside, and he had about two hours to think of a way to get out of the Queenscove house. Getting out would be the easy part; it was not getting caught after he was gone that Ephraim was worried about. The punishment for running away was a branding, and slavery for life. He knew he would need to take food or a way to obtain food in the woods. His general plan was to just hurry as fast as possible to the Sheonn border and enter to one of the big cities. The plan was a solid one, but it was going to be hard to pull off. A determined glint came into Ephraim’s eyes. One week from now, I will escape, whether I am ready or not, he thought.
The cock crowed outside and Ephraim rolled off of the cot onto the glossy wood floor. The night before, he had shredded his tunic into straps of leather and hid them well in his room. With the leather and bread saved up from the week, Ephraim figured he could escape cleanly. Putting those thoughts aside for now, Ephraim went back up to the kitchen for the days work, hoping to steal some bits to take with him.
As Ephraim carried different items and helped with cleaning and chopping during the day, he found that the cooks were not a bit interested in what he was doing past his work. He had secured one large and one small knife, various bits of food and other small items from the kitchen during the day. If someone found them missing, they would hopefully think that they had just been lost. This happened fairly often in the Queenscove house, with all the parties and balls that went on near constantly.
Ephraim went to his room early that night, a tribute to his hard work in the kitchen. During the time he had alone, he began working furiously with the items that he had, trying to make some kind of bag with the leather and clothing. As he found he had no needle, he found this task to be near impossible. He sighed and leaned back, his eyes hurting from the dim light of the candle, and fell asleep.
During the next week, Ephraim raided nearly every room in the house, getting a surprising amount of objects to be used on the trip. As he had never been to school, past learning how to read, Ephraim didn’t know exactly how far it was from here to the capital of Sheonn, Na’ furac. He did know it would be about three to four weeks of traveling time, making his meager supply of bread not enough to feed him. Ephraim figured he could make some kind of trap or kill some animal to nourish him for the trip.
The week flew by, busy as Ephraim was. Finally, that day came. The day he had planned to escape. There was a window in his room leading to the outside wall and to a small gate there. There would be guards on duty, but Ephraim had studied their patterns well enough to get past them, he hoped. He worked hard, but didn’t pay much attention to the work. After receiving his nightly ration, he went to bed. The window had no clasp, but Ephraim had been cutting on the edge with a knife during the week.
The window came off with a very small squeak. Ephraim waited a minute, listening. Satisfied there was no sound coming from anywhere, he secured his home-made pack to his back, made by a needle he had stolen from Lord Jacinth. Ephraim took a deep breath. He looked around the room where he had lived most of his life. Shaking his head-he wasn’t sad in the least-, Ephraim put a hand on the window sill, and vaulted out the window.
