Responsibility Ch. 02

Under more ordinary circumstances, Rahela wouldn't have used sarcasm against someone she was betrothed to, let alone to the powerful conqueror of her country. These circumstances were very tense, however, and she believed that she needed to spread her hobby out before everyone's eyes. It was the best way to keep suspicions away from her.

Yet it was still was a gamble. There was always the chance that the Emperor was an idiot or easily offended, and he'd take her words as a legitimate threat or an insult.

But Rahela hadn't seen any evidence to suggest that the Emperor was any of those things.

When she heard the Emperor catch his voice in his throat, and then when she heard him say, "I wish you the best fortune," Rahela knew she'd placed her bet well.

One of the boys piped up. She saw it was the page. "His Majesty knows you wouldn't poison him. Anyone in your highly craved position would be a fool to take that sort of action."

The Emperor reached over to the boy's head and put a sharp tap of his first three fingers right on the scalp. Flinching and blushing, the boy apologized. "I should've shown more restrain in the presence of the Emperor's betrothed," he said as he rubbed his head with his fingertips. Then he got up from his seat, walked over to the maidens' table, and gave Rahela a deep bow. "Thank you, Your Highness, for locking your anger away."

Rahela hadn't been angry at all, but she told the page she accepted the apology and he needed to go back to his Master.

The rest of the meal was quiet. Rahela couldn't think of anything else to say, and it seemed that the Emperor didn't have anything he thought should be said. Since the younger people weren't being addressed by the older ones, they whispered among themselves. They were rather cautious about it.

When dinner was finished, the Emperor left a crisp goodbye in the air and had his squires and page leave with him. The dining furniture and other things were taken out of the tent. Rahela's maids-in-waiting lit oil lamps to prepare for the looming night.

Rahela found her chest full of poisons, but she put it aside. Instead, she picked up a different but similar chest. It even had a similar lock. She opened it up and started putting each new bag of dangerous material into their appropriate squares. Well, she had to decide which square was appropriate at that time. She listened to the maids-in-waiting prepare the area for sleeping. They even started whipping and flipping the pallets out, fluffing them up.

"Ah, isn't it idyllic, Yana?" Oksana's voice was dreamy, which might've suited her youth.

Rahela used the tip of her favorite knife, which was often hanging from her belt, to poke at some thin leaves inside a pouch. She wanted to be certain that nothing had been mixed in by accident.

"Huh?" Yana sounded like she'd had a pleasant train of thought interrupted. "What d-do you mean?"

"The Emperor was so kind to have dinner with Her Highness. This marriage will be like the folktales once hears as a child."

Rahela tied a new knot in the strings and put the little sack in its spot. She poured a little water from a wooden canteen onto her knife. Then she wiped the blade with a thick cloth.

"D-do you sa-suppose His Majesty likes ... Her Highness?" Yana could really be slow sometimes, but typically it was only a speech problem.

"I think so," Oksana insisted.

Without turning around, Rahela straightened her back and said, "Never give childish thoughts permission to linger in your minds." She picked up another little pouch.

Oksana sighed. "Hahhhhh. Yes Your Highness."

Yana didn't sigh, or Rahela hadn't heard her sigh. "Ya-yes!"

Rahela knew better than to assume they'd let go of romance so easily.

***

The night had been rough for Rahela. She wasn't accustomed to camping. But she didn't complain. She slept with her knife right beside her pallet. Her scissors were on the other wide. She'd warned the girls that they had no business walking too close to her pallet in the middle of the night. They might trip over the sharp tools, or even cut or stab themselves in some preposterous fashion.

When morning came, Rahela wondered just how much dried mucus could possibly build up in one's eyes. She felt as if she had to rub her eyes for an usually long time. Her back and neck were sore from the lack of a high class mattress. Still, she didn't complain.

Breakfast was given to them by two young men that were apparently two of the assistants to the troop's head cook, who served the higher ranking people in the troop. These young men carried some trays of food kept in bowls and plates that had plain, clay lids. They also had a pitcher of watered down ale and three cups. The food was acceptable. Pottage of beans, bacon, a few chunks of biscuits that had been moistened, and even what seemed to be wild onions. A few poached eggs. And lastly, some rather firm cheese.

After breakfast, Rahela thought it was best to take advantage of the precious time they had before it was time to pack up and start traveling again. She made sure her sleeves weren't too long and her skirt wasn't too voluminous. Then she handed the baskets to her maids-in-waiting and said it was time for a pleasant walk. The baskets were for just in case there was anything in particular they wanted to collect, not that Rahela thought there would be much left since the soldiers already had their chances. Maybe there would be flowers or some other darling thing they wouldn't think to take?

In the meadow, the women went down to pick whatever odd flower they could find. They also yanked up an occasional tuft of grass. These plants would be excellent for keeping their carriage smelling fresh and sweet. Rahela wanted to put a layer of these plants on the floor, at the maidens' feet, that way they could be easily swept out later.

The girls started chatting again, which was fine, but something Oksana happened to whisper to Yana, something she'd probably assumed Rahela couldn't hear, wasn't fine at all.

"She should have us dust the Emperor's carriage floor with the flowers and grass, but she won't. She clearly isn't grateful for this marriage. She'd have been happier to be taken by Tashkila."

Rahela dropped a tiny blossom she'd plucked. Where it landed, she couldn't have said.

She marched over to Oksana, who turned to look at her with a naive, open countenance.

Lacking in gentleness, almost snarling, Rahela snatched the basket from her.

"Ah! What matter's bothered you?" Oksana asked. Yana backed away, her fingers flexing on her basket's handle.

Rahela drew her hand back.

Back of the hand. Fingers and knuckles included. The sharp noise was like a whip in action. There was no whip, however. That would've been extreme.

Regardless, Oksana was so affected that she was knocked down to the earth. She cried and whimpered, and she only hushed when Rahela rose her voice just enough to let the anger trickle out of her teeth. "A maid-in-waiting that insults her Mistress isn't worth much. A fool that refuses to see the truth of world is worth even less. You'll never survive if you aren't observant."

Holding a palm to her pink cheek, sniffling, Oksana muttered something unintelligible.

Swift and sudden, Rahela knelt down and reached forward with both hands.

Oksana howled and rolled away.

Pain!

Rahela's lower eyelids twitched.

When she held her hands up, the right one tightly held onto the neck of a squirming and curling snake with bright colors. The left hand had a clear bite on the side that didn't have a thumb. Beads of fresh blood swelled up.

As if she had a flash of nausea, Yana put her hands on her belly and made a pained noise in her throat. Oksana pushed herself to her knees and gawked at what Rahela had snatched up from the grass. It had been so close to her!

"I can't notice everything," Rahela said as the hand keeping the snake in line trembled from the effort, "yet I notice what I can. The world is dangerous. One must be observant."

***