Through a Slave's Eyes by Alice Arbuthnot (ereader android TXT) đź“–
- Author: Alice Arbuthnot
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Then I realized the only Namaians I’d seen had black or brown hair.
“Well I’ll see you within the hour,” Madam finished saying her goodbyes as I ran back to the stair case, counted to five, and slowly started walking down the hallway to the room. I knock and enter, “Finally child,” she said as usual, “help me with my corset.”
Evening bloomed as the sun sunk behind the tree line as the many coaches pulled in. Every one of them had a driver, and all a wealthily dressed family inside. I let the curtain fall back over the kitchen window and step back. “They’re arriving,” I tell Selein. “Jenny!” she calls, “They’re here!” “No need to shout Dearie,” Jenny says stirring the punch, “I’m right here.” “Sorry Jenny,” Selein whispers, “just a little excited.”
“What would you have to be excited about, slave,” asks the head chef. Selein face turns a shade of paler blue that I assume was her flushing. “She’s never seen so many wealthy people together at a time,” I cover, “she loves their clothes.” She nods numbly, keeping her eyes glued on the chef. He glances back and forth at us for moment then mumbles under his breath, “Women, I’ll never get them.”
Jenny rolls her eyes and goes back to stirring her punch. I give Selein an agitated look and she shrugs her shoulders. Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes, “Come on, we got to put the snails on the platters.” “Ew,” she says as I take her arm and drag her to the metallic island.
*****
Seven-thirty. Seven-thirty. Seven-thirty. Seven-thirty-one! The time was passing so slowly I wouldn’t be surprised if Father Time himself were trying to torture me. I take a glance at Selein who also had her eyes glued to the clock. “Waiting on a hot date?” We turn to see Simon sashay into the kitchen. “What are you doing in here?” I ask failing to hide my annoyance. “Ah, come on, Darling—” “Not your darling,” I interrupted, but he continues as if I didn’t, “Aren’t you glad to see me?” I think vomited a little in my mouth, “Glad’s not the noun I would use.” “Oh,” he says with a feigned pout, “maybe excited then?” I force down the puke, “Maybe,” I lie.
A chuckle comes from behind him and a boy about his age steps around, “See I told you she’d be happy to see me,” Simon says to the boy. He had a nose that should have belonged on a witch and thin hair that was tied back in a black ponytail. He scanned me with his beady eyes, “She’s so… alien.” He looked over at Selein and made a disgusted grunt, “What is that?” Simon grimaced, and looked her over as is she was an unwanted pest, “I’m not sure what orphanage Father got her from,” he explained to the boy, “I think he got her for half-price.”
Anger rose inside me, I clenched my fists causing my fingernails to drive under my skin. I glanced at Selein, her face had turned from blue to a shade of purple, but she shook her head at me. “It really is quite a distasteful to have that thing in the kitchen,” he said pointing at her. A metallic taste burst from the lip I didn’t know I was biting. “That beast is probably infecting the food,” he muttered. How dare they speak about a person as if cattle, or something to be bought or gained! As if we were roaches under their heal. I didn’t mind as much for me, but no one treated my friends like that.
The ichor slid over my tongue, encouraging my anger and want to spurt fowl words and my fists at him. But right as the pain to hold them in became too much, Jenny burst thru the doors. “Let’s go Dearies,” she said in a busy manner, “don’t stand idly by, help me fill these trays.” The light glinted on the empty silver trays in her hands. She took in Simon and his friend, “Boy, what are you doing in here? Get back to the party, your Mother is looking everywhere for you.”
Simon tilted his chin up arrogantly, “Who are you, slave, to tell me what to do?” I admired the defiant glint in her eye, “You are simply shooting the messenger,” she told him, “I’m your Mother’s servant, not yours. You have no charge of me.” Simon’s face lit a bright red, his friend’s jaw was swept the floor, and I thought I heard Selein chuckle. “You listen here—” he began but was interrupted by his Mother’s call. He grunted in frustration, “One day I’ll own you all,” he scanned us all with a pointed finger, his eyes reflected the evil of his soul, “when I do you’ll be flogged and sold to a master so cruel you’ll be crying for me to take you back.” I gulped, but to my horror Selein smiled as he turned to walk out, and said, “I’ll die before I shed a tear for you.” He paused but didn’t turn, “I’ll remember that,” he said and walked out, his friend following in his wake.
After they left it was quiet for several moments, Jenny glanced at the clock. “Seven-fifty,” she said almost to herself, “How about you Dearies help me fill these trays, then you can go out for some fresh air.” I glanced at the clock, and understood what she was getting at. We were to meet up with the boys at eight-fifteen, at the latest. It was amazing all Jenny knew, and could say without actually saying. “Please come with us,” I practically begged her, “They’ll tear you to pieces here.” She smiled the wise way old ladies always do, “You underestimate the power of brains, Dearie. These oafs couldn’t kill me if they tried.” I really did wish she would come, I looked at Selein for support. “Please, Jenny?” she asked, but the old maid was persistent, so we helped her load the trays.
I hand Selein her bag and grab my suit case from where we stashed them in the bushes outside the kitchen’s back door. I looked down at my brown town dress, then at Selein who wore an over coat and hat to cover her skin, ears, and downy hair. I smiled one last time at Jenny and we backed away into the darkness; starting our walk to the stables.
We scurry through the night; the only sounds to accompany us, the crunch of leaves and small wild life fleeing from our path. The lights of the house fade and the glow of the stable’s continual single lantern burns brighter in the narrowing distance. Hope builds in my chest as I stop at the stall and pat Lilly’s muzzle to quiet her. “Shh, it’s okay girl,” I lull, “it’s just me.” She nuzzles my hand affectionately.
“You sure we can’t take her?” I ask as Andrew steps out of the shadows. He shakes his head, “I’m sure, she’s actually their property. We’re not here to steal, and there’s no easier way to track a person than by following a trail of horse manure.” I smile a little and he continues, “Not to mention, we wouldn’t be able to get her on the train.” I nod, understanding but still wishing, “Where’s Ky?” I ask glancing into the shadows. Andrew’s eyebrows pull together, “I thought he was with you…” “Georgia,” Selein whispers loudly from outside the stable. I glance at Andrew and we both run outside.
*****
The reason for Simon’s kitchen visit became clear when we saw the steak knife. Simon’s friend held an unconscious Ky while Simon held the knife a hair from Ky’s neck. A sinister smile played along Simon’s lips as he looked straight at me, “Look what we found sneaking around out back, Darling.” A mix of shock and anger attacked my heart as I tried to figure out what to do. “Simon, you don’t want to—” Andrew began but Simon cut him off, “Don’t want to what? Kill a slave? Why not? I’ve seen Father do it, and worse, plenty of times.” He raised the weapon slowly up to Ky’s cheek, tracing his cheek bone and neck as if bored, “Such a pretty face,” he muttered, “Even Mother thought so.” He dug the knife a little deeper, “And what will darling, little Georgia do to save her hero?” He looked at me, almost sympathetically.. it was disgusting.
“What will she do?” he asked again, but I remained silent. He started shouting, digging his knife deeper, “What will you do Dar—” Throng!
The sound of metal hitting something rang with confusion. Simon’s eyes rolled back in his head and the knife fell harmlessly to the ground, as did he. His friend didn’t see the pan coming until it smacked him in the face. Behind them stood the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Jenny shouldered the pan with a huff, “Night, Dearie,” she said nudging him with her foot.
I ran forward and pulled Ky from the pile of unconscious boys. A cut ran from the left of his eye and followed a path under his cheekbone. “Oh my word, Jenny!” Selein exclaimed, “You rock!” I glanced up to see Jenny smile and spin her pan, “Andrew what time is it?” I ask. He pulls out Mr. Welch’s pocket watch, “Eight-ten,” he answers. I nod and rent part of Simon’s shirt to staunch the blood. “It’s going to need stitches,” Jenny mutters and digs into her apron. Upon pulling out a needle and thread I turn to Andrew and order he gives the lighter to Jenny.
She holds the needle above the flame for a moment then shakes it for quick cooling.
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