I spent the next week and a half diligently working at the dump. Some days were productive and I found numerous items, like colored stones, bent, salvageable wire, some stained strips of varied shades of cloth, torn clothing and shards of metal. These metal pieces could be shaved and manipulated into various shapes for Bodil’s trinkets. Other days of scavenging garnered very minimal finds.
Since Enyo’s brutal murder, Akiko managed to learn the art of trinket making. Bodil took the time to teach her and showed her the trade. I also watched Bodil work and was able to create the baubles if I was required to do so. At times Akiko and I worked together until late at night. Akiko’s duties increased. Besides creating most of the trinkets, she sold them at the market and also secured food for us with the little income she received.
Twice I met with the revolutionaries from my neighborhood in the same burnt building as before. I met most members who were part of the planned revolt in the general area. Each time we gathered there were new faces. There were others who would stand guard around the periphery and I gave Enyo’s reed pipe to a woman who calls herself Bird. She is small, thin and quick as a darting frigate. Hopefully she would last longer than Enyo did.
Bodil began her preparations to leave. Her hair was cut short and she somehow acquired clothes to further create the illusion that she was a male. She went to visit Kibou a number of times and they came up with a plan. Bodil insisted that it was better if Akiko and I never learned of it.
Soon the day came for me to travel to the leaders’ gathering. I never heard back from Tupac, the runner, and so I assumed the meeting was still on. After three hours of work at the dump, I headed home to drop off my treasures, packed some food for my journey, grabbed my weapons, hid them on my body and headed out the door.
One and a half hours of steady walking and navigating through beggarly neighborhoods, I finally saw what the map said I would see. I gradually began to leave the pauper residences behind and noticed the homes taking on a more substantial look. Debilitated three-story buildings and occasional burned edifices gave way to lower built structures and the farther I walked the nicer the homes became until I was surrounded by white-washed elegance, manicured yards and fenced in properties.
According to the map, I was to turn left at an intersection containing a large statue of Casimer. When I saw the sculpture, I stood and gawked at it for some time. The marble figure rose high above me and the commanding, handsome presence nearly took my breath away. I’d heard that he could appear in any form he desired. I supposed this embodiment was the most flattering. I’d also been told that anyone who enters his aura feels sick to their stomachs and terror is the primary response.
Tearing my eyes away from the deceptive facade, I made a left turn and walked for some time. Tall structures of the manufacturing district rose above the clay-tiled roofs of the houses around me. Picking up my pace, it didn’t take me long to reach the beginning edge of the industrial section, which held warehouse after warehouse. A few minutes later, I stood before the building with clay bricks on its face and a sign that read, Casimer’s Distillery and Spirits. As I’d walked through this area, I noticed that every building had Casimer’s name attached to it. Every company venture was owned by that despot and it made my stomach seethe.
Heading to the back of the building, I hugged the rear wall until I reached a door. I pushed against it and it opened easily. I stood on a landing, with two sets of steps heading in two different directions, one up and one down. A door to my right I assumed would lead into the main warehouse space.
I took the stairway leading down and was soon shrouded in darkness. Feeling my way along, my feet finally hit the bottom. That was the first time I considered that maybe this was a trap. I’d seen no one traveling to this same location. No one had met me as I entered and the deathly silence of this lower level unnerved me. Removing my short, double-edged sword from its scabbard, I slowly inched my way down the dark, dank hall.
A faint light flickered up ahead and I cautiously approached. Suddenly a form entered the hallway and an old man, older than I’d ever seen before, faced me, a candle in a holder in his hand.
“Who are you? State your name,” he demanded.
“Viveka,” I said, choosing to use my real name.
“Come.”
I stayed on high alert as I walked towards him. He turned, his long, white beard swaying as he did so, and walked back into the room where’d he’d come from. As I neared the doorway, I stayed on the far side of the hall and assessed the situation. Through the doorway I noticed others in the room, a few of them from my own Akoni Farrin, fellow clan members who had accompanied me on the rough sea faring journey to Dwarkaa.
Entering with my sword at the ready, I stopped just inside the door and scanned the space. Seeing more of my fellow clan members in attendance helped put me at ease and I put my weapon away. On the far side of the room was a heavy, thick metal door that stood ajar and I could see steps leading down from it.
The ancient man said, “Welcome Viveka. I have heard about you. Tupac sent us word of your instructions.” He turned and pointed to the metal door. “That leads to the cellar. We will meet there. Most of the leaders are already down there waiting.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
“My name is Kranti.”
The lines on his forehead and around his mouth looked strange. Never had I seen a man so elderly, as though he had lived a hundred years. And I knew I’d heard his name before but where and when. “Kranti. What is your position in this revolution?”
“That does not matter at this point.” He turned to the others and said, “Let’s begin. Follow me.”
Kranti led the way to the cellar and disappeared ahead of us down the dark stairs. The faint flickering of his candle glowing against the stone walls was the only light. I waited for the others to follow him and I took up the rear, at least I thought I was the last person until I heard the metal door behind me close with a clank. I spun around but pitch blackness mocked my vulnerability. I never placed myself in such a defenseless position.
At the bottom of the stairs was a large room, encased in stone forged walls. The space had the semblance of a cold tomb but its contents gave a different impression. Along the sides were shelves beyond counting, holding cask upon cask of distilled liquids of various kinds. There were also numberless smaller flasks on other shelves.
A few of the leaders had opened some flasks and they were being passed around as each one took a long swig. Licking my lips, I waited for one of them to reach me. My long trek had made me parched. I wouldn’t mind a flask all to myself. I made the decision to grab a few before returning back home.
Everyone was talking and catching up on news as my fellow clan members reunited. I noticed someone stepping from the shadows and walking toward me. Stopping beside me, he said, “Hello Viveka.”
“Razmig.”
“You’re still alive I see.”
“And so are you.”
“I see you’ve been starving. You’re desperately thin.”
“It’s part of the assignment I suppose.”
“You should have come and lived with me. I would have fed you.”
Releasing a tight sound between clenched teeth, I said, “I told you, I don’t need a man. I am managing fine.”
“It looks like you do need someone taking care of you.” Razmig smiled suggestively as his eyes roamed over my body.
I turned to give him a scathing glare and noticed a woman approaching us. By her smooth, gliding gait and elegant features, she looked like a high-born of Dwarkaa and I wondered what she was doing here. She stopped beside Razmig, looked at me and said, “Hello. You must be the woman from the ship, from Akoni Farrin.”
“How do you know me?” I asked.
“Razmig has spoken of you.”
“What is your name?” I asked.
“Vanora.”
Understanding flooded me. “Ah yes. You are the one Razmig promised to cover. You are his woman.” I gave Razmig a flagrant stare and was thankful I had avoided his advances on the ship.
Vanora said, “I knew Razmig was part of the revolution before he ever coerced me into allowing him to cover me. I had to pretend disdain. I could not let him know of my participation in the movement back then. There was too much at stake.”
“Tell me,” I said, “how were you able to leave your life of opulence and join Razmig, a lower-bred Apolake Ship Captain?”
Razmig released a derogatory sound. He obviously didn’t like being referred to as a lower class citizen.
Vanora said, “My father learned of my activities near the docks and had me followed. Although he is a hard man, he still had some compassion for me. He told me to leave and never return. He told me he would spread the lie that I became ill and perished. Although he never admitted it, I suspect that he is soft toward our cause. My father holds a high position in Casimer’s regime but he has suffered for it.”
“As everyone has,” I added.
“The night I left my father’s home, a runner met me a few streets down. He had a farmer’s horse and cart and he took me to a safe house.”
“The Tonrar did not accost you?” I asked.
“No. It was the strangest thing and felt like I was in a bubble of safety that night. I have never experienced it before or since.”
I turned to Razmig. “Did you know that Vanora was part of the revolution?”
He chuckled. “No. The information came out through the underground network. I learned that Vanora had relinquished her high position in Dwarkaa’s hierarchy and was in hiding. I eventually learned of her whereabouts and went to see her.”
Vanora smiled and said, “He came begging for me to join him. I in turn insisted that he join me. I had taken over a lovely estate that was virtually abandoned. The owners were murdered and there was a daughter, a young woman who was still living. I simply had her taken care of and the estate was mine.”
Razmig said, “My living conditions became quite agreeable. The Estate Grounds Vanora took over produces fruit and vegetables and there are farm animals that provide us with plenty of food.” He patted his growing middle. “I am fully satisfied in every way.” He placed an arm around Vanora’s waist and pulled her in to his side.
I said, “That’s a very fascinating story. And you thought you would not be able to cover Vanora upon your return. I find it incredible how life twists and turns in the most unexpected ways.”
Razmig nodded.
Kranti began to speak and the noise in the room mellowed as all eyes turned to him. Each leader was given time to give a report on their efforts so far. As the details emerged, it was clear that each one had made significant advances into the workings of Casimer’s eventual demise. I was encouraged. I gave my rendition of the progress in the pauper’s district where I lived and people nodded in satisfaction.
Kranti’s face scrunched in disbelief. “How did you end up in a beggarly neighborhood? You were assigned to a wealthier family, a vegetable farmer and business owner.”
“Our cover was blown and we had to leave quickly. Akiko and I have spent the last weeks in a poor neighborhood, where most are starving and the smell of death permeates everything.”
“It sounds dastardly!” Vanora exclaimed. “I know of a wealthy man looking for a fine woman. If you are agreeable, I can make arrangements to have you moved to an upper class home, with fine furnishings and more clothes than you can imagine. All the eligible males would surely fawn over your beauty and you would soon have many marriage requests. If you choose this, I will share the name of the man who is on the prowl for a woman of high status.”
“And,” Razmig said, “it would permit you to rub shoulders with the high and mighty, perhaps you’d even have the opportunity to be invited into Casimer’s presence. And it would certainly allow you to put some meat on those scraggly limbs of yours.”
I despised him drawing attention to my thin body. I ignored him and asked, “Homes are just waiting for beggars to move into? That doesn’t make any sense.”
Vanora shook her head. “If you’re interested, I will give you the details later.”
Kranti brought the meeting to order again and pointed to the next leader to give their report. When everyone had spoken, Kranti gave some minor instructions but he basically told us all to hold the course. The meeting lasted a total of two hours and everyone looked eager to head back to their respective homes. Most dispersed rather quickly. Razmig and Vanora stayed around a little longer speaking with Kranti, along with a few other stragglers.
I finally learned that Kranti was a great revolutionary and that he’d been planning a revolt for decades. Interested to learn more I stepped in closer and listened.
Waiting until Kranti stopped speaking, I asked, “So where are you from?”
Turning to me and with a glint in his eye, he said, “I’m from Cadda Farrin. I came to gather the leaders for this meeting. I will leave for home again shortly.”
“Oh.”
That told me everything I needed to know. He is the one Suma spoke of, the one whom it all started with. The one who had cried out to Mowae many, many years ago, the one Mowae answered with the beginning of the night visions. Kranti was the Great Revolutionary. I felt an immediate respect for the man and had the uncanny desire to kneel before him.
Other leaders’ gained Kranti’s attention with questions of their own. Suddenly, while answering a query, Kranti stopped mid-sentence, looked at me and said, “I want you to consider the idea presented tonight. If you were to shift your efforts into a more direct line to Casimer, much could be accomplished.”
Anger flared in my chest. “It would also place me in great danger. I can do more where I am. I have many who look to me for direction in the neighborhood where I live.”
“They have Kibou to lead them. He has been given jurisdiction over that neighborhood and he will handle it well.”
Suspicion flared. “How do you know Kibou?”
By the look on his face, he knew exactly what I was thinking. He studied me for a while and said, “Although I still dream and receive much instruction this way, I have also begun seeing visions during waking hours and have a knowing of things in the moment. I know that you were needed in that neighborhood for a time. Those willing to join in the revolt needed the encouragement of your presence for a short period and it also confirmed Kibou’s dreams. Now the people will follow him to the death if necessary. You are no longer needed there.”
“What about Akiko? She will be left all alone. I cannot do that to her.”
“She will be your personal maid. Every high-born woman of Dwarkaa has a personal maid.”
“But I’m a warrior. I’m not a high-born anything.”
“But you are very beautiful. I’m sure you will acclimate to your new surroundings in time. Perhaps Vanora can give you some pointers and lessons. And it is important that you marry and become covered by a man. This will help to conceal your true purpose and will allow you access and influence in the hierarchy of Dwarkaa.”
Vanora smiled at me and I responded with a grimace. This was horrible news. My discomfort in this type of arrangement and deception could likely backfire and I would find myself in a very dead position quite quickly. I’m not adept at pretense.
The respect I felt for Kranti kept my tongue from arguing. “When?” I simply asked.
“As soon as you’ve disguised yourself sufficiently and learned the rules of the high-born.” Kranti looked at Vanora.
Vanora nodded and said, “Yes. I can come to your residence during the day. I know of a rickshaw owner that can take me to you.”
I said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. He will be killed and his rickshaw stolen.”
“My. You do live in a disenfranchised area, don’t you?”
Razmig said, “Tell us of a spot where the rickshaw owner can meet you, a safe place, and he will bring you to us.”
I reluctantly made the arrangements, resenting the shift in my assignment. I’d grown comfortable in my station regardless of the starvation I endured. I knew how to stay safe, the rules of the paupers and my purpose there.
Kranti stared at me and, as if reading my mind, spoke. “Your influence is limited in your current living situation. You have done what you could, but now, the mighty warrior Viveka is needed elsewhere. The circumstances will be more dangerous but you are bred for danger. Akoni Farrin has prepared you for war. You need to be well fed, strong and clear-minded for what lies ahead. This change is necessary.”
A few minutes later the last of the leaders dispersed, Kranti leaving first. I grabbed a few flasks, stuck them into my bag and started my walk home. Those that remained spaced their departures so that our meeting remained undiscovered.
As I walked, I fumed, fueling my quick strides home. Frustration and despondency dogged me at the unwelcome shift of my future and I wondered how I would ever pull off the deception of being a high-born woman of elegance and wealth. I was about as far from that reality as possible. I knew nothing of the life of excess. The worst part was becoming someone’s woman, a high-born man’s coverling. I detested the idea.
I would lose my freedom, my will and my way.
Viveka
The Ongoing Tale of DWARKAA’S DOMAIN Continues in:
