Yspaddaden - Chapter 1

 Beggar Boy

Y. 3392

Ynwfn, Anaij

People everywhere. Feet ran about, trampling the few blades of grass that grew in-between the cobbles. Hands flailed, pushing others aside, making way for their owners. Shoulders bumped, knees knocked, hips collided. Mouths never closed, some hawking wares, some yelling directions, the rest simply yelling. Eyes were impossible to control, entertainers here, troubadours there, tapestries blowing in the wind, clothes barely covering skin, bodies dancing, soldiers marching, peasants begging. Every sense was in overload for everyone. There was too much going on, yet it seemed no one minded. They all milled about, each one minding his or her own business, thinking that they were the only ones who mattered, not knowing that they each were a small cog in the larger machine of society.

The young boy who darted in and out of the throng was among the most happy of the people who crushed in around him. As everyone rushed here and there, his hands worked fast, thrusting in and out of pockets without even trying to hide his gestures. No one noticed. And even if they had, most were too focused on their own problems to care. He did not take all, a few coin from each pocket. Among hundreds, a coin or two from each would make him richer than all. And how could he possibly pass up the occasional diamond or jewel? Yes, everyone was happy today. Even those who had no reason to be.

As his hand flashed quickly from the folds of a woman's dress, extracting two gold jul and a tiny ruby, a giant hand wrapped around his forearm. The boy tried to resist, jerking his way free. But the grip stayed firm, and he stopped, looking upward. He could see no face. The crowd was so thick that his captor seemed not to exist. As the man leaned down, the boy wondered at him, the man being so large and all. The muscles in the mans wrist were larger than the young orphans waist. Granted, he hadn't eaten in two days, but that was no excuse. No man could grow to be that large. It was near impossible.

The huge face leaned right down next to the boys ear. In one bite he could have taken half the child's head if he had wanted to. The man had to talk quite loud, but within the cluster of people, it sounded like a whisper.

"I think you do injustice, to steal such from those more unfortunate as you."

Was he blind? Rags fell off the boys body, barely modest. His skill was quickness, for lack of muscle. He thought back to his last meal…and couldn't remember it. Less fortunate? The man had to be simple. To balance out the size of him.

He seemed to understand the boys confusion. Shouting/whispering in his ear again he said, "All these people? They are entrapped by their wealth. When one is rich as they are, society demands certain things from them, an appearance they can never flee from, a way of living that holds fast until death. See the lavish clothes, the fine jewelry, the stunning makeup? Chains. The niceties, the pomp, the flair? Ropes, binding them to each other, preventing any sort of creativity, any kind of privacy, of uniqueness. You and I? We are the freed ones. Living as we will. Never having to bow to the norms of society. They say being different is strange, is unkind. I say difference is what makes life interesting. Were everyone the same, we would be nothing more than the faeries that flit back and forth, traveling everywhere, going nowhere. What say you?"

The boy thought about it for a second, scanning the crowd. He began to see the pattern that the man was talking about, the smiles on everyones face's that all knew were fake. The greetings that mimicked each other, instead of randomizing conversation. They were all tied to each other. Not one could exist without the company, without the pleasure, the demands or the requirements of the rest. Slaves they were, all. It was true. He was free. Why had he not seen it before?

He leaned in close to the man and shouted in his ear.

"If I am a free person, why waylay me? Why do you accost me so?"

"You are not yet free. You are tied to them as they are tied to you. You still play the role they expect of you, becoming the very thing that they require. Without someone to look down on, without someone to prove their own version of societal hierarchy, they are lost. You enable them. You, stealing, becoming the object of their scorn, make them exactly into the people you despise. They can't exist without someone like you, and you create them into the people they wish to be. Parasites. Their society cannot exist without beggars like you."

Rage burned within the young boy. This man, beast though he was, was stupid. How dare he show him the inner workings of a slave people, then accuse the one he spoke to of being yet another cog in the machine? He brought his knee up in a feeble attempt to attack the mans groin. The beast blocked the blow with his hands, letting go of the boys arm in the process. The youngster ran into the crowd before he could become yet another pawn in his games. Vuzhong.

Yspaddaden

Yspaddaden stood and watched as the young boy vanished into the crowd. He had not intended to become so philosophical with the boy. The words had sprung into his mind and seemed appropriate to speak, so he had. Interesting. Societal hierarchy. Where had those words come from? A smile passed over his lips, then disappeared as he remembered where it was he was supposed to be. He was already late as it was. But he had not been able to help stopping the boy, to point out his observation. Maybe, now that a small bit of the truth had been revealed to him, he may be able to do something about it, changing himself to help those around him. Yspaddaden hoped so. Or his waylaying the child had been in vain.

Or not. He kept walking through the crowd, gently nudging those in his way so he could press through. Perhaps him stopping and talking to the boy had not been so fruitless after all, even if it did nothing to change the way the beggar thought. Now that Yspaddaden thought about it, he could see patterns in his own life that were not that different from what the boy did. Creating himself into something that he despised, simply to please others. Was he as different from the boy as he had originally thought? And if so, would he now change having thought through the issues or would he ignore them as the boy had appeared to do?

Yspaddaden smiled. What was this? Just another of those rare days where he couldn't help but think in such strange philosophical ways? It happened every now and then, unbidden. He was still unsure as to if he enjoyed these times or not. He shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts that seemed to distract him. He was still late to his appointment and the king was not used to waiting.

Kadyriath

Kadyriath stood at her window, looking down into the courtyard. She couldn't tell where the yard ended and the street began. It was interesting to view so many people from this particular vantage point up above. The only face that was visible was the giant one woven into the banners hanging from each building. AethelBald, new king of Ynwfn. There were a lot of people here today, celebrating his ascension to the throne. But there were plenty of people still at home, seething and cursing this dreadful day. Several groups of the more curious sort had thought up grand schemes in their minds, plots of assassination of the previous king, a vast conspiracy concerning black elves and evil, accusing the new king of all sorts of terrible acts. Kady paid no attention to them, nor to the people siting idly at home, talking of change, yet never acting on it, nor did she care for the people in the streets below, blindly giving their allegiance over to a king they knew nothing about, simply because the person next to them had done so. She despised people who went along with the crowd, mindless cattle that did things for no reason, other then to blend in. Foolish folk. Ah well.

The only interesting thing worth seeing was the commotion that had begun to the left. Soldiers started shouting and converging on a large man who then began barreling his way through the people. All the soldiers had their swords drawn and the people leaped out of their way so as not to be accidentally impaled. The man they chased seemed not to be hurting anyone, simply pushing who he needed out of the way to make his escape. Probably one of the prisoners AethelKil had set free within the last few years. Kadyriath had heard of the unusual roundup of all convicts that AethelBald had thought to be unreasonably released. This man was probably nothing more than a harmless, drunken welidar, a wanderer from a distant land who might have spent a night in jail to sleep off a bad night. Rumour had it that the new king was highly prejudiced.

Kadyriath lost sight of the group of soldiers and stranger as they disappeared in the shadow of the buildings. She scanned the crowd again, hoping for something to catch her eye. When nothing did, she sighed and turned back into her room.

A casual, naive observer who took a look at the rooms that Kadyriath lived in would no doubt presume that she was quite rich. Tapestries hung on all the walls, the beautiful females depicted in them dancing in woodland glens, lying in beds. The furniture that was strewn almost randomly across the room was ornate, carved wood and stained, painted in deep reds, pinks, dark blues, blacks. To one corner lay a pile of pillows and blankets, creating a very comfortable relaxing area. One corner held the low table, at the time empty, but at a moments notice could be seen almost to bend under the weight of unimaginably rich food and drink. The opposite corner housed a large statue of a man and woman, near naked, embracing in passion. A giant sunken tub filled the last corner, decorated with spigots of hot and cold water, a cushioned seat ringing the inside of it. And in the middle of the room lay the focus. A giant bed, elevated three feet from the floor, curtains surrounding it, pillows adorning the silk bedsheets.

There was a loud thump from downstairs. Kady turned to stare at the oak doors, looking for something to happen. When nothing did she turned and walked to the large closet that was connected to the room. She opened the door and stepped inside, taking several paces to reach the middle. Surrounding her were all sorts of clothes and costumes, lavish garments, cotton, wool, leather, silk. Some were made of much less cloth than others. Gowns, robes, dresses, tunics, pantaloons, skirts. Kadyriath reached behind her and undid her underwear, stripping down. She reached into the fray and selected another pair, putting them on. She selected next a short skirt, red and black patterned, pulling them up and over her legs. Taking down a matching sleeveless shirt she hung that over her torso, pulling the bottom to just above her belly. She spun, looking at herself in the mirrors. Nice. But not nice enough.

Another commotion from within the compound, nearer this time. Several shouts, a thud. She stopped to listen, but when no more noise came, she excused it as mere revelry. Strange. Most girls who lived in the building despised the new king.

She turned to the opposite wall and opened the drawer to a cabinet. Bracelets, rings, necklaces, earrings. She picked up a matching set of earrings and a necklace, placing them in her ears and setting the necklace around her neck. The jewel that sat against her chest glimmered in the light. She touched it fondly, then reached again and grabbed three rings and a bracelet for each wrist. A few rings for her toes and an anklet. One more look in the mirrors told her she was even closer to being ready. She reached into another drawer and pulled out a black see-through sash, tying it around her body. She spritzed herself from a bottle of expensive perfume. One more item. Only one more.

She walked to the far end of the closet, grabbed the handle to the cabinet there, and pulled it open. There it sat. She reached inside and delicately retrieved it. This was her most prized possession. That is, if she actually owned any of the things she was wearing.

As she carefully wove the piece of metal into the hair on the side of her head, the doors to her room burst open. They slammed against the wall, one hitting a chair and toppling it. A huge man stormed in, looking all about. Kadyriath stood still, a bit frightened at the sight of him. It was not the fact that he was a man, she saw too many of those in this place. It was the mere size of him. He could be called nothing but a giant.

Standing almost seven feet tall, he was dressed in simple travel clothes, sword at his side. His long hair spread across his back. His large footsteps echoed as he tread slowly toward the covered bed. His right hand sat gently but steady on the pommel of his sword. His brown eyes did not waver from the bed as he strode toward it. Kady stood stock still, not daring to make a move. Her hands were still grasping the woven metal in her hair, frozen in fear. She recognised his size now as the man that was running away from the soldiers in the street. If he was some type of outlaw, she wanted nothing to do with him. Of course, even if he was a priest in the temple of Pwyll, he was intimidating enough for her not to have any part of him.

His left hand stretched out to grasp the curtain that hid the bed from view. It was a special weave from the country of Najja, made from the tails of unicorns. It was only see-through if there was moonlight shining in the room. The curtain completely hid the bed in the daylight. He jerked hard, ripping the fabric from the metal bars it hung from. He flung it on the floor. Kadyriath had not even seen him do it, but he now held his sword aloft, pointed at the bed. His facial expression was confused, yet fierce. He seemed angry.

Kady took a few steps backward, heading toward a secret escape tunnel hidden behind the dresses. If she could just make it there without him turning around, she could escape into the street and alert the building manager. Maybe they could call in a few minotaurs to subdue him. Maybe that wouldn't work.

She stepped on a misplaced shoe. Her ankle twisted, ringing the anklet of bells that was attached there. His head spun abruptly in her direction. Their eyes locked. He seemed bent on obtaining her, though she knew not why. In those seconds she felt a thrill of fear, and then pure thrill. Strange.

He leaped toward her. At the same moment, she leaped backward, grasping for the handle on the hidden door. She ripped gowns and dresses from their hangers in her desperate attempt to reach the escape hatch. She felt an iron hand on her ankle, but she refused to give up. She rolled over and in one motion withdrew the woven hair piece. Thrusting the sharp needle downward, she jabbed him in the knuckles. He let out a roar of pain and let go of her. She spun back toward the door and finally got it open. She was about to start crawling through, but the hands returned, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her high. She kicked her legs and swung her hands, trying to connect with something. He held her so high she couldn't reach his head, and the hair piece had fallen to the floor. No matter how hard she hit, his arms remained solid, his hands vises around her belly. She stopped flailing and hung there, waiting for him to do something.

Yells could be heard in the hallway. The giant flung her to the floor unceremoniously and shoved her against the wall, hand on her shoulder and neck. He crouched, looking toward the doors. His eyes darted all around, searching for the best way to escape. He glanced back toward the escape tunnel she had been grasping for.

"Where does that lead?"

Kady could not speak. The adrenaline that had been pumping through her ever since the doors banged opened had closed off her throat, making her incapable of a single sound. She tried to answer, but couldn't. She wasn't afraid, not really. At least, not afraid for her life. She had no idea why the man wanted her so badly, but whatever it was, she wasn't going to give it to him without a fight. He sighed at her silence and looked about again. The voices passed the room, but he did not relax. He shoved her once more, toward the escape tunnel.

"Go. Now. I'm right behind you."

She sat there, staring at him. She could not move. Nor did she really want to. He glared at her.

"Go! They will be returning!"

And yes, the voices were just now coming back down the hallway toward them. Still Kady sat, not knowing what to do, not knowing which choice was the best. Flee, fight, or faint. The giant chose for her.

"I'm sorry."

He seemed genuinely apologetic as his hand raised the sword and brought it down on her head.

Darkness.