Cerah he was dreaming of Tanitel again. Tanitel, the loyal ‘Minnie footman’, she thought as she dreamed.
It was over twenty years ago when she met Tan. Cerah was learning, at the protest of her parents, all she could about the Minmatar people. Tan was her guide in this journey into the forbidden knowledge of the slaves. Nonetheless, Cerah pursued all she could learn and in turn, pursued her guide. He was a strong man, proud with tradition and yet he treated her as if she was as close as kin. Over time, Tan and Cerah did fell in love. Such things happen when people spend time with one another. In Amarrian, society ‘love relations’ do occur between the Amarr and their slaves, but it is not usually a mutual love, more of lustful abuse of the slaves.
Cerah and Tanitel had a different love. A true love, one that you read about in the books of old. Such ‘equal love’ had to be kept secret. It had to remain hidden from the Amarrian world. To allow their love to become known would have meant death for the both of them.
Painful it was, honoring the wishes of her parents to marry Galen Grendalis the IV. She had no choice. An arranged marriage on their world was not something that one could simply walk away from or at least, walk away alive. The Grendalis family was one of the most powerful on Oris. Her parents would have thought it an honor to marry into that family. It was her curse to be wed to such a man. His cruelty towards the Minmatar was well known. He was the slayer of slaves.
Through everything, Tan was still there and alive. He had been picked as her loyal footman, to tend to her needs when she was venturing beyond the grounds of the manor. Some thought it odd that an Amarrian woman would have such a trusted slave, but it was not unheard of in the Empire. To allow such an Amarrian Lady to fall into harms way would result in the destruction of many Minmatar villages. It was point of honor to protect those women, yet another stone of oppression to hold over the collective heads of the Minmatar people.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. It was dark again; night had fallen as she slept through the day. She felt weak, drained. The news that her son Galen would face the whip in the morning brought tears to her eyes again. Softly she sobbed as she lay in her bed.
A quiet whisper sneaked out from the darkness, “Do not be sad my love. All is not lost.” Tanitel’s words floated through the night and settled upon Cerah’s troubled mind like the warm rays of the springtime sun.
“Tan, oh my Tan. You have snuck in here again. I have missed you these past few months.” Cerah’s voice was weak and filled with pain.
“My love, I have a wonderful gift for you, “Tanitel spoke softly as he placed the data pad into her cold hand, “Look at your son…and our daughter.”
Cerah’s eye opened widely. She stared at Tanitel and with tears filling her blue eyes, “Daughter? I can not know anything of her, if Galen was to learn what I knew, she would be in danger.”
Tanitel smiled and helped Cerah to sit upright. As he put his arm around her, he took the data pad and held it so they could both see the picture.
“Cerah, the Five will leave the Eight, you remember those words, don’t you?” Tanitel whispered gently, “Galen Grendalis the Fifth and his sister Leainati have left Oris. So look at your family my love, they are free.”
Cerah looked at the picture, “Oh, she is so beautiful. Galen and Leainati, they are gone? They have left?”
“Yes my love,” continued Tanitel, “Leainati rescued Ga’len from the chapel and they took a shuttle off planet. Soon they will be too far for danger to reach them.”
“Ga’len?” asked Cerah, “you called him Ga’len, why?”
“It is the name Seenan has given him. His new life needed a new name and he seemed to like it,” Tanitel held Cerah closer.
Cerah smiled and closed her eyes, “They are free. Free to live their lives. At last…”
Her breathing grew shallow and her embrace grew weaker. Slowly she drifted away into sleep in Tanitel’s arms. Slower and slower, he weak breath escaped her lips until it was quiet.
The room seemed to grow darker as Tanitel realized that he was alone. The Five had left the Eight and so had Cerah’s life too slipped away this night.
Tanitel lightly kissed her on the lips, “Sleep my love, and be free. It has been too long. Your wishes will be honored.”
***
Dawn came to Oris quietly. The sun slowly crept up across the horizon, spreading its light over the mountains, down into the valley and across the fields. The Minmatar slaves had already been working for hours in the dark and they were about to begin their morning meal break, but this morning would be different.
Galen Grendalis the Fourth had called an assembly at the chapel. Here within the chapel and on view screens all over the installation, everyone would watch the wrath of Galen befall those who would attack and kill Amarrian guards. They would all witness yet another beating but this time, it was another Amarr citizen, his son. All was going according to plan, Galen Grendalis was much too happy with himself. Soon he would show all those who had been disobedient that he was their ruler and his power was uncontestable.
The knock on the door shattered the serenity of his morning meal. “WHY DO YOU DISTURB ME?!?!? ENTER!”, Galen shouted.
The door slowly opened and the standing in full armor was Nathorn, the head of the house guard. He was a large man, broad shoulders. His face was clean; his hair was always perfectly presentable. He always stood tall and possessed an arrogant and commanding presence, but this morning, he stood in a half-bent over cower. It was clear that he was very unsettled, something was very wrong on this morning.
“Milord, I am most sorry to bring you this sad news.” Nathorn’s voice was trembling with fear. The news must be severe for this man to be filled with fear.
“WELL, OUT WITH IT YOU FOOL!” Galen grew impatient. He hated to be disturbed in the morning.
Nathorn continued, “The doctor visited upon your wife, the Lady Cerah this morning and has discovered that she has passed. I am so sorry milord; please accept the condolences of myself, my family, and the house guard.”
Galen Grendalis sat there in his chair. He paused his chewing for a moment and looked up at Nathorn. “This is why you have disturbed me? To tell me that ungrateful bitch, that rotting corpse in my bed has finally succumbed to her laziness? Tell me, “Galen’s voice was filled with contempt, “why I should not have you killed? Sad news? This is good news. She is finally dead, good riddance!”
Nathorn remained motionless and stuck in is half-cowering stance. “There is more milord,” his voice was very broken, and he was shaking in fear, “It would seem that your son has escaped from the chapel during the night.”
“WHAT!?!?!?!?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE HAS ESCAPED!”, Galen flew up out of his chair and ran across the room. He drew his knife that he always kept on his belt and slashed out at Nathorn’s throat. The blade clanged against the neck armor and then fell to the floor.
“NATHORN, YOU WILL FIND MY SON AND BRING HIM TO THE CHAPEL NOW! YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES AND IF YOU DO NOT BRING HIM, I WILL MAKE SURE I GET THROUGH YOUR ARMOR NEXT TIME!”, Galen’s voice was filled with rage enough to push Nathorn out of the room.
Nathorn called out, “GUARDS! GUARDS! FIND GALEN GRENDALIS THE FIFTH IMMEDIATLY!”
Galen stormed out of the room, stopping only to pick up his knife. As he exited the doorway, the slashed out with his knife and killed the first man he saw. The servant who was moving the body of Cerah Grendalis found his throat cut wide open, he fell to the ground with a gurgling choke, and blood sprayed everywhere.
The cleric escorting the body spoke, “Milord! Please stop! We understand you may be distraught with the passing of you wife, but…,” the servant’s voice was stopped short and the blade slashed out again, cutting his shoulder deeply. He ran away down the hall, screaming in pain.
Galen Grendalis the ’slayer of slaves’ was on a rampage and anyone who fell into his path would die. The manor was going to become a bloody place again.
***
Hidden in the shadows in the hallway, Tanitel observed the carnage.
“How fortunate, his rage has helped me for once,” Tanitel thought, “With that dammed cleric gone tending his wounded shoulder and unfortunately the servant dead, Cerah has been left alone. My love, as I promised, your wishes will be honored.”
Tanitel moved quickly, picked up Cerah in his arms, and ran down the east hall, ducked around the corner and headed into the secret passage he had come to depend on. In another moment, he was out of the manor and safely heading into the woods.
Deeper into the woods, Tanitel tried to make his way as quietly as he could. He would soon be missed the morning meal. He had managed to elude being seen and unbeknownst him, missed as the first shift began its work in the fields.
Deeper and deeper Tanitel traveled, towards the old ruins.
It would be here, as Cerah had told him long ago, that he would build the pyre. It would be here that Cerah Grendalis would finally see her freedom from this life.
“Soon my love, soon you will be free among the starts,” Tanitel’s thoughts drifted from Cerah’s last wish and their daughter, “This is so cruel Leainati. You barely knew your mother and now she is gone.”
Further and further into the forest Tanitel silently moved. Soon, soon it will all be over.
***
Seenan was gathered with many workers from the first shift. She was standing in front of on of the man view screens that normally showed the current production numbers, which teams were behind and news bursts that usually showed her fellow slaves being beaten for simply not working as hard as their masters demanded.
This morning, there was supposed to be a special viewing of a disciplinary action in the chapel. She chuckled quietly to herself, as she knew well; the poor soul that was bound in the chapel was now light-years away from Oris.
A low murmur began to spread through the crowd. The guards were all talking into their communications gear; there were panicked looks on their faces.
“Something is not right…or was it?” Seenan thought to herself, “Lord Grendalis must be in a rage over Ga’len’s escape. That must be it.”
The guards began moving people into formation for a count. They all seemed very frantic, their eyes filled with fear. This Seenan expected however, one of the guards looked as if he had been crying. He was so distraught that he dropped his weapon.
Seenan immediately fell to her knees and cowered away from the guard. No slave was to ever stand if a guard was not armed. The guard quickly picked up his weapon and spoke with a shaky voice, “On your feet, form up.”
“Yes sir…if I may speak?” Seenan spoke boldly, “normally we do not care much for you guards, but something is bothering, is it not?”
The guard’s eyes narrowed and he looked as if he was about to strike Seenan, but he stopped himself and spoke, “No, this I will not do, not today,” his voice was filled with grief, “Yes, something is wrong. Your Lady Grendalis has passed into the next life. She died in her sleep last night and you will…”
Before the guard could finish her sentence, he saw that Seenan’s eyes were filling with tears. She fell to her knees and sobbed softly. Her ankle still ached with pain. She put a hand on her ankle to try to hold back the pain.
As she looked up at the guard, she spoke warmly, “Dear sir, I can see that you morn her. Know that you are not alone in your grief. The Lady Grendalis was always kind to me and mine. Her light will be missed in all our lives, “Seenan continued, “You honor her on this day by not striking me, by not showing me the violence that she hated with her entire being. I shall honor your kindness by my submission. Do with me as you will.”
The guard was taken aback by this display. How could a lowly slave touch his heart? His eyes began to fill with tears. He hid his face with his hand and shouted, “You two there, help this woman, her leg is injured. Take her to the infirmary at once. Lord Grendalis will want all his slaves to be able to work double hard after this delay today.”
The guard, after wiping his face clean, looks at Seenan through mournful eyes and mouthed two words, Thank you.
***
When Seenan arrived at the infirmary, her ankle had begun to stop its protest of pain. Regardless, she administered a pain reliever and put on a brace. She had to hurry; Tanitel would be making his way to the old ruins. There was much work to do.
She returned to her barracks and gather what she would need, including the urn she had kept hidden for Tanitel.
“Seenan, is it true? Has Lady Cerah died?” asked one of the infirmary’s attendants.
“Yes, her light has left us my friend. Pass the word, at dusk we meet at the old ruins deep in the forest,” Seenan’s eyes began to fill with tears again, “Tonight we honor her memory.”
Continued
More of The Bleeding Rose
