Theo
The giant cracked the massive whip and it roared harsher than thunder. Human and dwarven slaves scurried to clear the ground and build the wedding site faster. What was often a beautiful and tranquil lake in the woods was a site of chaos, transformation, and exhaustion: the felling of perfectly good trees and the massacre of healthy undergrowth, dozens of slaves at the brink of collapse. The calm lake reflected the grey and pink sky and the thick green trees surrounding it.
Theodore eyed the blunt, rusting scythe he held and imagined jamming it into the taskmaster’s leg and running.
Crack! The monstrous whip so close to his ears they hurt, ringing. He hacked at the greenery, breaking and slicing it low—attacking, hack hack hack at the thick stalks—with satisfaction in watching them fall. He was so fed up and exhausted and angry and hacking was the only place his anger could go.
Piles of undergrowth and trees scattered the area and were being collected and removed. As the greenery was removed, the ethereal glow vibrant with luminescence, butterflies, bugs, and birds, and all manner of wonderful nature also left. An eerie, quiet glumness remained. Theo wondered if others noticed it.
The taskmaster, Kirakai, roared, “Get on with it you damned slime, it will be dark soon. This is going to be the finest wedding in history. You rats could never understand, so do as you’re told and do it faster.”
We could hack him to death. He couldn’t stop us all. Blunt tools or not. Theo imagined all the servants swarming the giant, jumping on him and hacking and grabbing and dragging him down and hacking some more. Every scenario he imagined ended up with humans and dwarves eventually being thrown about and broken like twigs. He couldn’t understand why he couldn’t imagine a victory. Even his imagination was weak. He hated that.
“Theo, you’re asking for the whip. Stop daydreaming,” Pika said. He was strong, as most dwarves were, and he broke the undergrowth with ease. Theo was human, and he wished he had the strength of a dwarf. “Whatever you’re thinking, forget it and work.”
He’s right, Theo thought. I need to stop thinking like that. All his life he had been told to stop thinking like that. The mindwatchers might hear his thoughts, and even if they didn’t, thoughts like that were a waste because they never led to anything. The thoughts kept coming back though, no matter how useless or dangerous they were.
Theo continued hacking beside Pika, while Tico collected and disposed of the waste left in their wake. The air smelt earthy and fresh, and Theo tasted a drop of stale salty sweatiness as he licked his lips involuntarily. He was desperately thirsty. His muscles ached. What’s the point in thinking like that when I never do anything? I’m a coward, and I always will be.
The setting sun reddened as it sank behind the trees beyond the lake, and everything softened. The lake rippled gently, refreshingly, and Theo yearned for cold, fresh water. His clothes were thick with dirt and sweat.
“Better get some lanterns out here and forget your evening slop,” Kirakai said. The whip thundered once more, so loud everyone ducked.
“Great. More work. No food,” someone moaned.
It had been like that ever since the wedding had been announced. The grounds were being razed so that they could plant seeds and regrow the site to suit a wedding, with colourful flowers and rich shrubbery.
Everything else was also already in full flow. They would accommodate many important guests from all of the Nine Lands, including royalty. They had been clearing and laying paths, running errands to the city, constructing arches and platforms, fashioning canopies, building the altar, adjusting seating heights for witches, rearranging stores, polishing furniture, preparing food, crafting, crafting, and more crafting. Everyone was at the brink.
The thought of Toarer getting married and living elsewhere with that demon of a wife made Theo feel heavy with fear and defeat. The fear squeezed his insides, slowly, firmly. That squeezing of his stomach reminded him of how starved he was. He wondered whether Toarer would sneak some food into the servants’ quarters that night. The thought of food, real food, made his dry mouth attempt to salivate, but it just ended up in a thick, messy movement of his tongue against his mouth.
The whip cracked and Avira shrieked. Blood dripped from her arm.
Theo fought hard to stop himself shouting at Kirakai. It would only make things worse. You never do anything, he told himself, as he watched Avira weep and force herself to continue working. He felt as much hate for himself as he did the giants and witches that enslaved them all.
CRACK! Avira shrieked and curled her back awkwardly.
“You, Blondie,” Kirakai said. “Do your damned work.”
Theo was known as Blondie to Kirakai. He had unusual platinum blonde hair and pale skin. Terror and disgust flooded over him. Anger. No. Rage. He hacked and hacked. “I’m sorry,” he said to Avira. She was trying not to cry.
Kirakai knew the best way to get to Theo. The taskmaster’s perverse and savage attraction to Avira plagued Theo more than anything else. She was only fifteen. It disgusted him. It ate at him in his sleep and made his blood boil like a rancid infection. It made him want to kill everything in sight, including himself. Yet he was too much of a coward to do that. Too much of a coward to do anything.
He hacked and hacked, tearing everything green down, roared and hacked and screamed trying to fend off a wild insanity that crept over him, and he hacked and hacked, and his head went weird and everything went blurry.
“Theo?” Concerned, muffled voices.
The giant laughed, “Worked himself into another fit. Hah.” His words sounded as if they came from a distance.
Everything was black and relaxed. A woman sang words and sounds he didn’t understand. Pleasant sounds. Harmonic, tranquil, powerful. An orange light swirled with the rhythm of the words. Theo wanted to remain there forever.
*
He woke to darkness and the sounds of servants stirring in their sleep. He was on the floor on a thin mat. A thin mat and blanket were all the servants had for bedding. The hard wood beneath the mat pressed into his side.
Avira was close to him. She must have sensed him stirring for she opened her eyes and whispered, “You had one of those fits and then you wouldn’t wake. I was worried.”
“I’m fine,” he said, remembering the orange glow and the woman singing in his dream. He wished he could remember or understand what she had said. It seemed significant, but he couldn’t grasp much more than that.
“Shh,” someone hissed. It was frowned upon to talk after lights out.
He turned onto his back and relaxed. Avira put her hand on his arm, and he found himself smiling and relaxing even more.
Sometime later, almost inaudibly, the door crept open and closed again. Pika tiptoed to his mat and lay down. What’s he doing? Theo thought. If he gets caught out and about at night, we’ll all get the whip. What’s worth that risk? I’ll have to confront him tomorrow. Pika wouldn’t do anything like that without good reason though. Pika was the smartest dwarf Theo knew. Smarter than all the humans, dwarves, witches, and giants, despite witches and giants saying humans and dwarves could never be as smart as them. Maybe I should leave him to it. I wouldn’t have confronted him anyway. Theo felt an anxious knot in his stomach. I never confront anyone.
“Food.” Avira’s voice. Her hand on his shoulder, waking him gently. The sounds of wooden spoons scraping wooden bowls, everyone desperately trying to get more food out of their portion. The smell of slop. Servants scurrying into action. Groans of exhaustion.
Avira came back from housemistress Mildred and the gigantic slop pot with two bowls and handed one to Theo. She moved awkwardly, the lashes evidently still causing her pain. Theo felt terrible.
“Mistress said we’d better hurry, Toarer’s summoned us,” Avira said, hiding a smile.
The slop was made from the giants’ leftovers, which was much better than plain crop slop, so Theo was grateful, yet it was thick and fatty and barely warm. A horrible, heavy, sloppy texture. Theo really hoped Toarer had a treat for them. He often did. They finished their meagre portion quickly, rinsed their hands in the washbowl that was already mucky, and joined the queue of servants waiting their turn at the single hatch entrance to the servants’ quarters.
They climbed through the hatch and down the ladder that led to the servants' entrance to the top-floor hallway. At the foot of the ladder, rough wooden flooring and a door. Through the door, the top-floor hallway. It wasn’t the grandest floor of the manor because it was seldom used. Old and dusty, elaborately framed landscape paintings decorated the walls.
Avira led the way and Theo noticed black and blue and yellow bruising at the bottom of her skinny neck where it met her shoulder, mostly hidden by her clothes.
“Avira,” he said.
“Yes?”
His heart beat hard and flooded him with anxiety and shame. “Nothing,” he said. She wouldn’t want to talk about it with me anyway.
They descended a flight of stairs to the second floor, which, along with the first and ground floors, oozed excessive grandeur. Toarer had deliberately chosen a room that offered distance from the rest of his family, whilst avoiding the dilapidated third floor so as not to cause offence. The second floor halls were lined with intricate wall carvings, tapestries, and ornaments. The floor was soft-pink marble veined with subtle black swirls.
Toarer’s room was enormous like all the other giants’ rooms, yet much simpler. He had a big, comfortable bed and valuable paintings on the walls, but the elaborateness ended there. No ornaments, no jewels, no exotic rugs. There were many books scattered around the room, half read, half waiting to be read. There was a tray of uneaten breakfast and juice on a table. It smelt delicious. Meaty, buttery, fruity. Theo’s mouth watered.
“Come on, sit,” Toarer said, once he had closed the door. They climbed onto his giant bed and lay back. Theo took a deep breath and sighed. It felt like he was floating on clouds. He yearned to sleep on a bed like that for one night, to recover.
“Don’t marry her,” Avira said, taking the words out of Theo’s mouth. She wrapped a bit of the silky, puffy cover over herself.
“If I could get out of it...” Toarer said. “I have a duty to my family and the Land, and she’s the minister’s daughter...”
“She’s wretched,” Avira said.
“It’s a good job you don’t have to marry her then, isn’t it?” Toarer laughed. “Make sure you are careful with what you say and think beyond these walls though, the watchers might catch you.”
Theo felt a pang of guilt. He had been indulging in his thoughts too much beyond the manor. The manor had protection from the mindwatchers, but outside of the manor, he was vulnerable. He imagined hacking Kirakai with his scythe again, remembering many of the indulgent and defiant fantasies he often had around Kirakai. Even the mindwatchers don’t believe in me, he thought.
“Looks like the wedding stress has taken away my appetite,” Toarer said, putting the beautifully carved and gilded tray of food on the bed. “I couldn’t even eat my breakfast,” he grinned.
A sausage had been half eaten but the rest was untouched. Sausages, bread, juicy fruits, jam, butter, orange juice. It all smelt and looked too good to be true.
“Go on,” he said, pushing the tray closer to them.
Theo waited for Avira, and as soon as she grabbed a piece of fruit, he dived in. It was indescribably good, and they ate until they might burst. Toarer watched them affectionately, letting them eat in peace.
“Life’s going to be unbearable when you go,” Avira said.
Theo couldn’t bear to think about it.
“I will be here as much as I can. It will always be my family house. I will not abandon you.”
“Do you have anything to do with Pika’s disappearances at night?” Avira said, picking at a piece of bread with rich purple jam on it. They were full now, but it was hard to leave such delicious food uneaten.
Toarer grinned mischievously. His big face was endearing. “I have not mentioned it because I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.” He appeared to deliberate for a bit. “We are close now, though, and I know I can trust you both.”
Theo perked up with curiosity, but he felt worried because he couldn’t control his thoughts. He didn’t want to get caught by the mindwatchers.
“Pika has been working on something with me. For a long time, I just knew things didn’t add up. When I got access to the ministry’s restricted literature, all my suspicions started unravelling. We have been researching and exploring an alternative history, and we have found some scriptures that could change everything. The only problem is that there are parts missing, we haven’t patched it all together yet.”
“What do you mean, change everything? An alternative history to what?” Avira said.
“Everything. The whole lore of the Nine Lands, for witches, giants, dwarves, and humans. We have got a lead, a quest that can prove our suspicions. So, we are going to visit the royalty of Okuden, and make a discrete detour.”
It was so much to take in that Theo almost blanked. “What?” he said.
“Everything? Everything!” Avira was excited. “You have to tell us everything then.”
“I can’t until I am sure. It would be dangerous for you to know, anyway. The mindwatchers might find your thoughts.”
“Ugh, Toarer, this is going to torment me. Please, tell us.”
“No. It’s for your own good. When I return, when the time is right, that’s when you will be told.”
“Take us with you, please,” Avira said. “I would love to change history.”
No way. This is treason. It’s got a death sentence written all over it, Theo thought. He didn’t want to seem a coward in front of Avira, so he kept his mouth shut.
“You know I would if I could, but it would raise too many suspicions to take all three of you. We will be back as soon as we can.” The giant grinned a warm and comforting grin, with just a little cheekiness seeping through his lips. “Don’t you worry, you will get your chance to change history with me if we have the luck that I think we will.”
Is that supposed to be a good thing? Theo thought. He worried intensely. It was so much to take in.
The work bell rang and Kirakai’s voice raged through the manor. “To work, vermin. To work. Get that wedding ready like your life depends on it.” He chuckled with a deep, dumb voice. “It does depend on it.”
Theo’s heart sank as he slipped off the bed onto the floor.
“Tell us,” Avira said. The bells rang louder, and the servants could be heard springing into action.
“I need more time,” Toarer said. “You don’t want to be late. You know what the taskmaster is like.” Toarer was right. Lateness meant lashes.
