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Chapter 11: Death Comes for Us All
Matriarch Arissa rose from her bed in a foul mood. She had always been a woman who enjoyed her pleasures and the sleeping gown she wore was of finest spider silk but tonight, like many of the nights before, it gave her no comfort and sleep had eluded her yet again. She donned a gown of soft wool and tied the sash about her slim waist as she moved away from her bower and towards the door of her chambers.
It was the dreams she mused as she slipped along the upper corridor towards her library. The floor was well polished, and her bare feet made no sound as she walked, passing without thought the many portraits and artworks she had spent centuries collecting. Yes, it was the dreams, images of fire and dread that persistently haunted her when she slept of late and thus, she was coming to despise and fear the bedtime hours with no small passion.
She passed a footman who bowed respectfully in her presence. She barely took note of the man, a human slave who had been brought to her household in chains, like so many others, some years past.
Perhaps a tincture might lighten her mood. She had found through experimentation that certain concoctions would for a time cloud the dreams and allow a night of deep slumber, but she disliked how the same brew would also mire and slow her thoughts. She paused and considered a moment before turning back to the human, "You! Fetch me one of my maids, Kymeera if she is awake, or Saladora, whomever, I care not."
As the footman hurried off on the errand she had set him Arissa resumed her walk to the library where one of the household guards opened the ornate, heavy door at her approach. She glanced at the tall half-orc, resplendent in a well-made gambeson bearing her house crest and favoured the creature with a minuscule nod of acknowledgement. The guard did not speak or appear to heed the gesture as was proper.
Arissa favoured half-orcs as guards, they were generally well-appointed and capable, more handsome she thought than pureblood creatures, but also more easily disciplined. She knew that many considered her a simple hedonist, but her guards were well-trained and equipped, and she had insisted on having a master from the Academy of Swords as trainer. She herself had watched Mistress Camille in the courtyard from time to time. The woman was handsome in a way, but she was also a dour humourless creature who didn't appear to drink or indulge in any earthly pleasure whatsoever, but she was certainly skilled at least.
The Matriarch stepped out onto the broad balcony and looked out over her estate. Hers was one of the most northerly houses and her keen eyes saw the edge of the great Dorcha Coille that bordered much of her lands, the trackless black forest that ran all the way to the Obsidian Mountains in the distance. Her woodsmen and foresters fetched good lumber from the edges of that mighty wood but only monsters and evil spirits lived in the deep and hidden places under that endless sea of trees, and who knew what resided among those pitiless far-off mountain peaks.
Her estate was a remote one, her family having seized the unwanted lands long ago. In fact, the closest settlement was not even of the Fae, for the village of Blackspire lay just across the veil in human lands. She herself had travelled there in the past for there was a slavers market to be found in Blackspire and it was a good source of labour. However, while she found the local fare to be of sturdy enough stock she sometimes despaired at the lack of more refined specimens. For such, she was required to breed them herself or send traders down to the Oppidan delights of the Dark Elven settlements in the Southlands.
An ancient watchtower had been built to guard the road between the human lands and the Fae and a small garrison still stood sentinel at that remote post. Captain Migdara was the current commander of that outpost. Now there was a woman who enjoyed her libations. She was hardly the sharpest arrow in the quiver but at least she had a sense of humour and while her dinner conversation was not the most delicate, she was at least amusing.
Arissa toyed with the brass telescope mounted and placed upon her balcony but was disturbed when Saladora slipped silently into the chamber, moved to her side and bowed respectfully, "You sent for me Mistress?"
Arissa turned to the half-elven woman and tried to smile, "Come now Saladora, you've not worn my collar for almost half a century, I am no longer your Mistress, can you not call me 'Milady', or even by my name if we are not in company?"
The girl gave her a shy smile, "Old habits Milady."
"Was I so cruel to you girl?"
"No Milady, you were not cruel, though I confess the memories of those first years of service are not fond ones for me."
"Eventine, the Housekeeper?"
Saladora grinned, "Yes, she was ever a stickler for protocol and that things were properly done, and she was oft free with that switch of hers. I am curious though, if I may. She was Dökkálfar, how then did she fall to slavery?"
The Dark Elf shrugged, "Oh, her house, like ours were slavers and they thought to be our competitors, so my mother ruined them. When they fell destitute, she further humiliated them by taking their first-born daughter into our service as remuneration of a portion of their debt. Strangely she found the girl, Eventine, rather agreeable, but they were of a kind, both as ruthless and crafty as each other and she swiftly became her favourite. Many suspected, though they dared not even whisper it, that they became rather
close
."
Arissa chuckled, "It may surprise you to know that I too felt that switch from time to time, for as I said, she was my mother's favourite slave, and mother ran a strict house. I was often sent to Eventine for discipline for I was very much an insolent and precocious child. Did you know my mother offered her freedom more than once, but she always chose to stay? A difficult woman, but loyal in her way I suppose. Was she hard on you?"
The girl laughed, "She was hard on everyone, but no, she did not pick on me in particular, but she had no tolerance of laziness or shirking."
"I did not take you for a shirker Saladora?"
"No, but I had my eye on one of the stable lads, who was sweet to me. Eventine thought that those that served in the house were above such things as cavorting with the common hands and she made her disapproval well known."
Arissa chuckled as she fidgeted with the telescope, "And did her disapproval halt your 'cavorting' entirely, or did you still manage the occasional rendezvous?"
The girl laughed, "Oh, we had our moments let's say, and leave it at that to spare my blushes."
"Fair enough, now, if I may interrupt our reminiscence, for I would appreciate it if you would fetch me a soporific, for sleep eludes me, again."
"At once Milady, I'll prepare the tincture myself."
"Thank you kindly, my dear. Upon your return, you can regale me with tales of your illicit frolics with the handsome stable lad."
"Milady!"
Arissa laughed, "I jest girl, now off with you lest I be forced to find a switch of my own."
Once the servant had gone Arissa turned her attention back to the telescope. On a clear night like this, the lights of the distant watchtower should be just about visible. She focused and fidgeted with the device as she peered through its aperture.
The watchtower was aflame from the lowest basement to the tallest battlements.
Arissa staggered back from the instrument, "Queen of Night!"
