Secret of The Saans

  "Mmm," Mole said, a few nuts already in his mouth, "The Domi have the most delicious garbage."

  "What were your names before you were Mouse and Mole?" I asked again. Mole raised an eyebrow without looking up from the nuts. Mouse shifted in his seat and cleared his throat before speaking.

  "My you're curious," Mouse began, "Well, they used to call me Nikol, and Mole there was Thomas. We took on our nicknames fulltime after we left Saan Citadel. No one really cares what your real name is out here. Things are a lot less proper as an indentured servant or whatever we are...slaves with drinking privileges and hay mattresses and imaginary mistresses."

  Mole snickered at his friend. I liked these two rodent men.

  "Did you want to leave the Citadel?" I asked.

  Mouse glanced sideways, either uncomfortable or looking for listening ears that did not belong to our party. He shrugged, "No," was all he said. Mole continued to stare at the nuts. I kept at them.

  "They made you leave? Because of what?"

  "Asking too many questions,” Mouse snapped.

  “Irreverence," Mole added.

  I immediately regretted probing too far. But Mouse started explaining.

  "When I worked for the Saans I helped out the masters of coins. I have a gift for numbers and remembering things...but it was because I was remembering things that I got into trouble. I really just didn't understand how they could manage their finances so poorly – and I still don't. There is so much money coming into the kingdom, into the Citadel especially, and no real money leaving. The Saans always played this game with the Domi pretending they had too little money for much of an allowance – some of the books were, let's say, adjusted. – in case any of the Domi came to inquire. What they did with their monies I don’t know. In truth, I don't think that the Saans really like the Domi, especially the Queen, but I get off topic. So many items didn't add up and I got curious and made too many queries— at least, that's what I like to think. I really didn't mind being an underling, even though I went from being a man…uh…to a boy.” Mole raised an eyebrow. Mouse continued, “I quite like a lot of their ideas, but I just got a little nosy for some people's liking. That old raisin Theodorius hated me anyway and wanted me gone. If I had a walnut for a brain then perhaps they would've kept me, but no. I'm lucky they didn't dispose of me completely! What, and without any friends, family, or money they just sold me over here to this horrid castle to clean up the Queen's horrid messes.”

  Mouse took another small handful of the almonds, but kept talking without putting any in his mouth.

  "Oh and Theodorius," he went on with an eye roll, "He's so high and mighty now, but he's never been anything but a lucky bully. He used to get us with a sharp willow when we didn't make our beds right or say our prayers properly. Not just me and Mole, all of us small Saans. I suspect he'd still be whipping children if he hadn't risen so high up in the Citadel…. The charges against us ‘insubordination, poor faith, and plotting to conspire’. I remember the charges like they were yesterday, I remember the spit flying out of Theodorius' lying mouth as he spoke them in front of all Five Saans themselves, Aethan save us."

  Mouse had gotten himself a little worked up and was starting to flare red in his cheeks and big curved ears. He stopped and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Suddenly Mole chimed in.

  "They don’t make any sense to me – they don't make any sense at all. Never have. I didn't hide my true feelings about the Saans very well. Theodorius knew it just as well as anyone else that knew who I was. They thought I'd make more trouble than I was worth, so they booted me, took Mouse and me out at the same time. They figured since we were friends, we were a pair in crime."

  They both stared at the tabletop until Mouse looked up, as if suddenly remembering I was there.

  "And a pair late to work at that!" he declared. "C'mon M'Lady, we've got pots to scrub and wipes to wipe. As I always say, ‘this place is one part truth to ten parts show’. The show keeps us working and eating, so let's forget about truth for a while and make this place pretty."

  "He never says that," Mole said under his breath.

  "You never listen. I always say that," Mouse retorted.

  Cleaning was mindless enough. I learned more about the Red Keep's secrets than the Red Keep knew it had. I'm sure most of the servants, indentured and not, only knew a quarter of the ways my rodent men traveled. True to their names, they traveled through the walls, underground, swiftly, and in the near dark. Some of our shortcuts were so dust clotted I think we may have created more messes for ourselves simply in the dirt we tracked out of the hallways. Neither could exist wholly without the other one; they completed each other. Mouse usually had a polite way about him, a manner of dancing around and describing a thing but rarely giving honest, blunt delivery. That seemed to be Mole's strength. Mole seemed at first glance to be slow and stupid, but he was incredibly thoughtful and quite clever.The shutters clapped in the wind, startling us. The windstorm was ill-timed; Mouse was especially agitated this day and Mole was even more withdrawn than usual. We cleaned the room in jumpy silence, punctuated by Mouse’s inane observations about the weather.

  “It’s been gray for days. Seems a storm is coming…. Have you heard those dreadful black birds? The crows are cawing like it’s the end of the world…. This wind, this wind. Just dreadful…Did you know that crows mate for life? It’s true, there were some that lived outside the dormer of the citadel and the same crow –-”

  "Enough, enough,” Mole interrupted the rant with a growl. “We need to just tell her,"

  He took a breath and turned to me. "Aneh, we're going to the clean the Monster's cell today."

  "The Monster?" I asked, caught off guard.

  "Well, it's not really a Monster," Mouse sputtered, "I mean, we think it's human, but anyway we have to clean its cell and it's never a pleasant thing. Get done quick I always say.”

  Mole took over the talking.

  "Truth is, Monster has never been treated very well by most folk, and it's no surprise...Monster is ugly, dirty, and full of smells. But I think it has a good heart Aneh. It’s just been mistreated,” Mole said.

  "We were thinking, maybe you could help us and make friends with it, you know, because it deserves a little kindness and you're a nice, strong woman who can defend herself and survive -- we heard about Bridge… If the Monster trusted you, cleaning its cell would be a lot easier. What do you say?" Mouse asked.

  I froze, but having little to lose and really no choice in the matter, I managed a nod. “All right."

  They both nodded eagerly and we started down our well-trodden hidden staircase carrying our bundles, our buckets, and the huge basket stuffed with straw.

  Instead of taking a right after the first thirty stairs up – the way into the solars and great rooms of the Keep – we kept on straight a few paces. After curving left, we began to descend. I counted ten, fifty, one hundred stairs down. Watch your step Aneh, Mouse said. The air had grown more damp. I estimated we were level with the mines— the thought made me ill. Finally we emerged between two pillars in near total darkness. A glance to the right revealed a cavernous tunnel illuminated weakly by a torch hung high on the wall. A portly guard snored in his chair with his arms resting on top of a rotund belly. The light of the torch fell on his balding head. We walked towards him.

  "This is where the minor prisoners are kept," Mole said in a hushed voice.

  "Yes well, that depends on your definition of minor," Mouse whispered, "Disagreeing with the Prince on coat color might end you up here, that or stealing from the Citadel, or not bedding down with the head of the guard. All minor offenses in the eyes of the Saans or the Queen, or, Aethan save you, the King."

  "The really bad prisoners go into the oubliette," Mole added.

  "What's the oubliette?" I asked.

  Mole looked at me with a sorrowful expression, "It's like the mines, but much, much worse."

  "It's where you'd be if you hadn’t gotten out of the mines, Ane
h," Mouse said matter-of-factly before mumbling, “However you managed that.”

  I stayed quiet.

  I had been worried our whispers would wake the guard, but despite the echoes bouncing off of the tunnel walls, he slept on, unperturbed.

  "Ahem," Mouse cleared his throat. The guard continued to snore.

  "Sir. Wake up please," Mouse continued. More snores.

  "Sir!" Mole growled at the man. He jolted awake, dropping a tiny, circular metal case with on the ground. It bounced as if empty before coming to a stop at my feet.

  "We're here for cleaning," Mouse pulled up his sleeve to show the guard his little tattoo of a bucket. Mole did the same. The guard fumbled in his pockets and produced a key. Mouse plucked it from his grubby hands.

  "Thank you for your troubles," Mouse said with syrupy tone.

  I handed the guard his tin back, showed him my tattoo of a bucket – the axe from the mines had been inked over – and we continued on our way.

  We didn't travel far down the tunnel, we were still within earshot of the guard when we reached the first door; its metal bars glimmered orange and yellow in the tunnel light.

  Mouse let out a quick breath. "Here we are." After Mole peeked in, turned the key and opened the door, he continued quietly, "Aneh, meet the Monster."

  In the corner of the dank, horribly foul-smelling cell was a large mass of dirty human flesh. It heaved with rhythmic snores. Mouse looked hopeful that Monster might be sleeping and he put his finger to his lips, hushing me. We began our cleaning – up with old straw, down with new. There was no chamber pot but rather a hole in the ground. Thank Kote, I thought, I don't have to clean a chamber pot in here. Mole scraped some scum around the hole, careful to make hardly any noise at all. But as he was finishing up, his grip faltered and the metal scraper clinked on the ground. We stared, paralyzed, in the silence that followed. Seconds passed.

  Monster woke with a snort. All my senses heightened in fear, I watched Mouse and Mole, perfectly still, eyes wide. The Monster saw Mouse first and gave a grimace that may have been a smile. Its glance traveled to Mole next, and it uttered a disappointed grunt. Mole started to back out.

  Mouse’s voice quivered, but he spoke some soothing sounds, "Monster, hello there, good to see you dear. We've just had a bit of a tidy up, but we'll be going now."

  As Mouse began his retreat Monster's smile faded. Then it saw me.

  Faster than I thought a mass of that size could move, it was nearly on me. I lunged for the door, afraid of the blow I was about to receive, but it never came. The cacophony of rattling metal chain abruptly stopped. I turned around, coming nearly face to face with the Monster. Its breath was hot and horrible, hair stuck to its nose and the wet corners of its mouth. My eyes watered looking at the enormous growth that bulged from its forehead, the dreadful scar streaking its cheek. One of its eyes was small, brown, and squinted so that no white was visible. The other eye was big, blue, and full of tears.

  "Aneh, time to go!" Mouse shouted at me while Mole opened the door and pulled me through. Our heavy breathing echoed in the arching stone tunnel. As we walked we didn't look at each other, but the guard nodded to each of us sloppily as we left.

  The journey up the stairs was quiet. Mouse broke the silence only after we reentered our workspace.

  "Mole, I think...I think that went quite well."

  I couldn't help but open my eyes wide in astonishment. Mouse began again, looking at me approvingly.

  "Yes, I think you'll end up getting along quite well with Monster."

  Mole nodded in agreement.

  I was disbelieving. "It certainly didn't seem that way to me."

  "Oh, you'll grow on it," he continued. "I've seen it nearly rip a man in two. I've certainly seen it destroy countless supplies of ours. That cell was made especially for it so there's no bedpan and plenty of space to get aggression out. By prison standards, the Monster's been taken good care of. But that's beside the point. Now you've met Monster, Aneh, today is the beginning of a new relationship."

  Mouse seemed quite pleased with himself, which was irritating. I wanted nothing to do with Monster if I had a choice. But I had no choice, and had to hope that Monster would sleep more deeply next time we arrived.

  Chapter 41

  Yossinda

  Saan Gerric was tall and gangly, like a broom handle with arms. He had a beard cropped close to his face and large blue eyes that widened when he was excited. I knew him from the servants’ House, the unusual Saan who made small talk with me and was going to teach me in healing, just a few basic tinctures to begin, for things like small burns and headaches. I was proud to be learning such things. It made me feel valuable.

  "Don't add too much of this substance, it will take the shine right off of your fingernails!" Gerric handed me a vial of a clear substance with a simple O painted on it. My schooling was poor and reading was a challenge, so I had to work hard to memorize everything he told me. A lot of the vials that contained liquids were colored, but the clear ones with only labels to identify them were tricky for me. The herbs and plants though, I could understand those.

  Gerric applauded my sense of smell, "That is one of a healer’s best gifts!" He exclaimed.

  "Smelling is good for knowing what is wrong with someone, and then knowing how to fix it. You might never think to smell a sick person's breath, or smell a festering wound, but based on its odor, like sweet or sour for example, you find the perfect cure for the ailment."

  We were in a vast room deep in the bowels of the Citadel, a sacred room where the most important healing was done. There were dozens of shelves, each unit taller than two of me. Every shelf was filled more than an arm’s length deep with vials, dried herbs, and hundreds of mortars and pestles. At the back of the room was the spring of the first SaanReas. It was the source of the water for the city, the Holy source that inspired Reas to declare that this was indeed the place and began to lay the first stones of Saansanti. Gerric had chuckled when I crossed myself in front of the spring and bowed to it. "Katrine said you were one of few in your faith, Yossinda," he laughed.

  "Pardon me Saan Gerric, but do you mock me?" I asked, a little bothered that now a Saan was poking fun of my devotion

  "No dear, no," he said, sobered.

  Among other things in the room were vats of Tinea, which Gerric told me were used only for medical purposes. I shivered to think that it could be used for good, imagining my sister lying in bed for days. There was a giant glass case which Gerric said they sometimes used to put things in that needed protecting. It was empty now, but so large a person could have stood inside with ease.

  A little underling peeked through the doorway and headed towards us like a nervous cat. His eyes darted all over the room.

  "Excuse me, Brother Gerric, may I have a word with you?"

  "Brother Dana, yes. What is it?" Gerric replied wearily, as if he was already tired of this man. Dana pointed at me with his eyes twice.

  "Brother Dana, you don't need to worry about her. The Saans have sought her out as an apprentice. Her skills will be invaluable in the weeks that come. In the future she will take Katrine's place."

  Take Katrine's place! I am sure I blushed with the honor.

  Dana continued to glance my way until Gerric relented. The pair walked a distance away, but their words found their way across the chamber.

  “Five days, Gerric, five days.” Dana whispered urgently.

  “I am aware of the timeline, brother Dana.” Gerric assured him.

  “I think you trust this girl too much to take on matters of healing.”

  “Brother Dana, I urge you to trust me. She’s perfect for this role.”

  Nervous to hear myself talked about I knocked over an empty vial.

  Chapter 42

  Aneh

  Twice a week for the next two weeks we cleaned Monster's cell. Thankfully it was always sleeping. I was sure once that I saw its eye open and close, as if it had been watching me. One time I noticed it clutch
ing something like a lump of rags, or a piece of a blanket— a doll? The thought tugged on my heart a little. I couldn't help but wonder who Monster was, where it came from.

  The answers came one day when Mouse was called off to the Queen’s quarters. Mole and I approached Monster’s cell without speaking. The tunnel was empty of noise, no snores, no whispers from Mouse, just the padding of our worn out leather shoes on the smooth stone floors. The guard sat with eyes half mast—awake, but in a trance. In his fist was his little metal box. An ulcerous sore peeked out from his shirt collar.

  We showed him our tattoos, took the key, and moved on.

  "Mole, what's in that little box? What's wrong with him?" I whispered.

  Mole gripped my forearm hard and glared at me, "Have you learned nothing? At least that you should be quiet?"

  Mole refused to come into the Monster's cell with me.

  "I'll keep a watch on you, but I think I best not go in without Mouse," he said.

  I tiptoed in and started working quietly, quickly. I looked up and there it was, there she was, sitting in the corner, clutching what was indeed a ragged, stained doll, with one sad breast hanging out of her ripped tunic. Her hair, greasy and matted was gray in the poor light. The chain on her ankle clanked when she shifted in her seat. I swallowed hard, making eye contact. She seemed embarrassed at first, hugging herself and her doll tightly while her hair fell over her face. I looked earnestly at her then smiled a half smile. She laughed. It was a horrible sound, like a donkey braying.

  I cleared my throat to speak. She seemed calm, but I stayed beyond the range of her tether, just in case. "Aneh. I'm Aneh." I pointed to myself and smiled a closed mouth smile. She giggled into her doll.

  "What's your name? What do you call yourself?" She sucked on her teeth.

  Seconds passed. I thought about leaving. Maybe she was mute.

  "Dottir," she responded, finally.

  "Dottir," I repeated. She giggled again. "I'm glad to meet you."

  "Aneh." she said. It was the most distorted my name had ever sounded, like a bellowed sneeze, but she said it with the proud smile of a child.

  "I'm here to clean Dottir, and if you want, to be a friend." I couldn’t tell if she understood so I smiled again.