Fiction by J. D. Conrad 2016
Part III (Go to Part II, Go to Part I)
Once out of the city there was little need to appear ordinary, so he quickened his pace. Nusha kept snapping the reins, pushing Takitas faster than he liked to go, which caused the mule to occasionally voice his opinion on the situation. Loudly. Even so, the trip from Iron Tower to Saint Shoku's had never seemed to take so long.
It was still well before midday when the wagon rolled through the gate into the outer courtyard. Sister Pavo was pacing in front of the barn, when she saw him arrive, she excitedly motioned toward the doors, then rushed to open them. She was practically bouncing with impatience as the wagon made its way inside.
As soon as the wagon was inside she pulled the doors closed. Nusha set the brake, and then they both scuttled underneath it. It didn't take too long to get the secret panel loose. The smell from inside was foul. The rank sour and sulfurous air inside the small compartment made him retch. An arm flopped out, grasping desperately for something to pull against. The monks proffered hands and soon a man pulled himself free, dropping to the ground and gasping for air. He mumbled something and pointed back toward the hole. Both monks pushed in their arms and soon pulled out a young girl, then a woman.
Nusha pushed his head into the concealed chamber under the piles of manure to ensure no one else was inside. When the smell hit him he gulped as his bile rose. Pavo was helping the escapees out from under the wagon and into a hay filled stall off to one side. As Nusha resealed the compartment, Pavo brought them a bucket of water and some clean clothes.
Buy the time Takitas was back in his stall and the wagon stowed, the refugees were considerably cleaner. They sat huddled and dazed. Now that they were cleaned up, it was obvious they were a family. Father, mother and a pretty young daughter. The mother looked like she might have some Cathari blood from the shape of her face. Nusha gave them what he hoped was a reassuring smile. But he knew that they still had far to go. They would have to be smuggled from Saint Shoku's further East. Then most likely they would be slipped into the dwarven city of Kadin-kar. The dwarves didn't much care for humans, but they hated slavery even more. So they would guide blindfolded slaves into their hidden tunnels, then after some timeless underground trek through the Spine of the World, they would be blindfolded again and taken out of other hidden tunnels. This time in Cathar, well away from the their former masters.
Then they would be free. Freedom, with all its terrors and uncertainty. They no doubt felt that those fears were preferable to watching what would happen to their child. It was likely some overseer, or perhaps even the master of the house, a horned and tailed tiefling noble, had noticed she was blossoming. Nusha hoped that things would work out well for them. He would say a prayer to the dreaming goddess for them every night.
When Pavo got back with some tea and food, Nusha took himself up into the loft. There he sat looking out over the compound that made up the monastery. Within its walls was all the home he'd known since his father and mother, freed slaves, had brought him here ten years ago. As a monastery of the Order of the Blessed Land, life here was simple, but full of hard work.
His gaze lifted, looking out across the rolling farmlands to the North. He could just make out the hazy finger of the Emperor’s tower poking up into the sky. Then he looked East. He couldn't see them, but that way lay the vast snow covered peaks of the Spine of the World. In that moment he decided that he was going with the escaped slaves. He wanted to see the mountains. He wanted to see the world. He too wanted to be free. Not free of slavery, but free of a life proscribed by a mind numbing daily routine. Today he'd felt more alive than he'd ever felt before. If he were a saint, and had written a book, his book would say, “A life without risk isn't worth living.”
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