In The Lair Of The Snake

“Enter,” The Lord’s voice called out from behind the door. “And close the door behind you.”

Islana did as was beckoned and then bowed to Lord as was customary whenever she greeted him.

The Lord stared at her for what seemed like forever before speaking again, “Go kneel in front of the small tub, over there.”

Islana spotted the small tub, it was closer to a large bucket size. There was a chair placed opposite where she was kneeling. Lord Vasant didn’t say a word but left to go into an adjacent room. Being that she hadn’t been given permission to get up, the slave knew better than do so.

Lord Vasant’s bedroom was distinctively different than his wife’s room. It was also large but where the Lady liked her curtains pulled back and the sun to bring light to her room, the Lord’s curtains were usually closed, add-in the dark wooden furniture, and this room always seemed ominious. The only artwork here was a painting of a ship. While both the Lord and Lady had portraits of themselves and a wedding portrait done, those were reserved for other areas of the manor.

Islana was usually in here to clean, but clearly the man had other plans for her today. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes into far too long to be in this position. She actually was beginning to wonder if the man had forgotten her but still did not dare to move from that position.

Her mind had gotten very good at drifting away from its current predicament over the years and now was another of those times…

”I’m going to go hunting,” A nine-year-old Islana told her older sister. “Next time, that man wants to speak to me, he can be sober to do so.”

“He can’t help it,” Aine was trying to keep the peace. “You know that.”

“What I know is we lost both our brother and our father, that day.” Islana had never forgiven her father for her brother’s death and really didn’t understand how Aine did, but her sister was always the peacemaker of the family.

“It was an accident.” Aine’s aqua eyes looked as if they were going to fill with tears. Her sister was usually strong but Islana recognized the other girl had had enough of her younger sister and father not getting along.

“I’m sorry,” Islana sighed. “I don’t mean for you to be in the middle of this. I just … if he hadn’t been…”

“Drunk?” Aine sighed. “I know, if our father hadn’t been drunk the accident might not have happened.”

“Our brother would still be alive,” Islana was convinced it was her father’s fault and nothing seemed to change her mind. “But it’s not on you to keep the peace between me and father.”

Aine just nodded. They all wished that day had never happened, and all knew nothing would be the same again.

Over the years, the relationship between Islana and her father had somewhat deteriorated. Islana greatly resented not being treated like her siblings. The never being able to leave the woods, while she knew it was to try to keep her safe from anyone, ate at her. Occasionally, travelers would cross her path, and other than a quick greeting she was supposed to steer clear of them.

Islana, even back then, wanted to help people and usually went out of her way to do so. This usually caused fights with her father - what if her ability had occurred while she was helping them? All of these cumulated until this last blow-up when her father told her he wanted her to try to stop using her ability altogether. Not that she had any clue how to do that, which Islana let her father know. He started to say something about her mother but, as always, stopped himself. Another point of contention was that the man never answered questions about her mother.

Then it suddenly dawned on the redhead that maybe her father was embarrassed by her. While it was true that the Inquisition would want someone like her dead, it was also possibly not the only reason he had always acted like the simple act of drawing animals closer was something to hide. All of this led to the two having a rather heated argument, with her father having had a breakfast of fermented goat's milk making it worse. Finally, the girl just stormed out of his room.

It was a complicated relationship of misunderstanding, communication breakdown, but also love. The two really did have a parental-child bond and did care for each other which made everything between the two that much worse. When they fought, it was always bad but Islana never feared her father - even if she couldn’t stand him at times.

Two male servants brought some hot water and poured it into the small tub, then told Islana she was to prepare the water with some of the oils that were placed near it. It was then the girl noticed a sponge and towel also near the tub.

Lord Vasant returned, dressed in a robe. He checked the water and then dismissed the other two servants. The man sat in the chair, holding the whip he almost always carried in Islana’s presence. His words were spoken in a command, “You are to wash my feet.”

The redhead had kind of assumed that but had never been asked to do this particular task before. It wasn’t that this task was difficult or awful in itself but the forcing made it incredibly demeaning. Still, she went about it not saying a word.

Vasant, on the other hand, had a few things to speak on. “I like this. From now on one of your duties, every evening will be to wash my feet. And another thing, I think you kneeling in front of me is about right for someone as low as you. You shall kneel when you are waiting on my instructions.” He paused as if waiting for an answer.

The only response Islana could give was “Yes, sir.” It was beyond clear that any other response would end with her being whipped. Inside though she recognized the way he was breaking her down even further.

“Now, what did my wife tell you?” He was expecting an answer. Islana was a terrible liar but out of sheer perseverance came up with ways to get around that.

“I don’t know. It didn’t make much sense to me.” Islana continued to pay attention to the man’s feet so she wouldn’t have to look up.

When Vasant just said, “Figures.” it surprised even Islana that he actually bought what she had said.

“Well, you know that she will be meeting Zin soon. Once that happens, I will start you on your true duties.” The Lord’s words made the girl swallow. “I know none of the other servants or slaves speak to you so I suppose I can tell you. Once the mourning period is over then I will marry the Lady Nossett and you will produce children for us.”

Islana was already well aware of all of this but it was the first time the Lord had spoken of such things. The mourning period - Islana did not know how long that was in this situation. It could never be long enough.

The man’s feet were now clean and dried off. He said nothing until the knock on the door brought the two servants back to take care of the water. Once they were gone, the man hit Islana five times with the whip and said - “Don’t ever forget who you belong to.”

Barely able to move by the time he allowed her to stand, she slowly stood up. He then said, “It’s near dinner time. Go.”

From his room to the dining room, set the table, and then serve him the food. If everything was perfect maybe, just maybe it would be a peaceful night but the young slave was beyond hoping for such things.