will quietly gather what we can carry without being noticed.”
“Good,” said Maybell, satisfied. “Then if you'll excuse me. An old woman needs to sleep. Especially if we're going to run for our lives in two days.”
Malstisos bowed and left the tent. He took a deep breath and went back to the fire, where the humans were laughing singing songs. He knew he should join Grentos and Vadnaltis so not to raise their suspicions, but he needed time before he could face them. The thought of being deceived by his kin caused his blood to boil, and if they were to escape he needed them to believe he knew nothing. He just hoped the place Maybell had in mind would be enough to stop two seekers.
After a couple of hours of socializing and singing with the merchants, Malstisos steeled his nerves and joined Grentos and Vadnaltis in their tent. The talk was light and cheerful, and for once they didn't try to gather information. Around midnight they all went to sleep, though Malstisos found it nearly unbearable to stay in the same tent. He slept light and woke several times. He decided he would find a reason to stay with Maybell the next night.
Chapter Fifteen
Salmitaya cursed as she slapped a horsefly stinging the back of her neck. Her plain wool dress was stained with mud and grime, and her brow was beaded with sweat. She was not accustomed to humid climates or the way she was now forced to live.
For two weeks they had been in Baltria, and for two weeks she had worked as a slave. The home they stayed in was a modest, single story dwelling, though well decorated and comfortable. Located on the northern outskirts of the city and populated mostly by merchants and store owners. It had a descent yard and a small flower garden in the back—well tended by her backbreaking efforts.
The house had had two servants when they arrived, but Yanti promptly dismissed them.
“You are all I need, my love,” Yanti had said, in his melodic tone. “I wouldn't want you to feel useless.”
He then made a list of her daily duties, though they changed from moment to moment, on his whim. The first day had nearly killed her. She was forced to rearrange all the furniture, tend the garden, prepare the meals, and then go to the market and pick up a weeks’ worth of food and supplies. After she completed each task, Yanti would inspect her work.
“You must do better, my love,” he had said. “Otherwise you will never leave my service.”
Angrääl had forced her to give up her position and wealth, and had indentured her to Yanti until he felt she had earned the right to regain her status. She had gone from a powerful High Priestess to a lowly servant overnight. At first, she had hoped it wouldn't be so bad, but it didn't take long for her to realize that despite Yanti's smooth, cultured demeanor, he was a vicious and cruel monster.
She had attempted escape the first week, only to be caught less than an hour into her flight. She cringed at the thought of the beating he had given her. He promised her that should she try again, he would most certainly kill her... slowly.
Today, her duties consisted mostly of scrubbing the house clean from a black mold that seemed to cover everything in Baltria. Yanti had commanded that she be finished by midday. He said he had other errands for her to run. She looked up. The sun was high in the sky, and she was still only halfway done. Her back ached and her hands were blistered from constant scrubbing.
“Taya, my love,” called Yanti from behind her.
She jumped. Yanti moved silently and was constantly sneaking up on her. “Yes?” She tried to hide her hatred by averting her eyes.
“I need you to check the inns again. See if your friends have arrived.” He turned and strode away. Just as he reached the corner of the house, he paused. “Later this evening, we'll discuss the fact that you weren't able to finish your work on time. Perhaps we can find new ways to motivate you.”
Salmitaya shuddered as she watched him disappear around the corner. She dusted herself off, put away the bucket and brush, and headed to the tavern district. The streets of Baltria were filthy by Kaltinor standards. Though well-paved and maintained, you could hear the mud and grime crunch beneath your feet. The city was situated