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Reading through the newest reports made King Bastion smile. In a matter of weeks, the tide of escaping slaves was almost completely blocked. Of course, there was the occasional guard willing to be bribed to look the other way but they were rare enough to be ignored.
"My liege," General Tavers entered the throne room and knelt before King Bastion; who quickly waved his hand to let him stand upright. "Here are the latest reports from the outer villages. No sightings of attempted escapees within the last week and any reports of missing slaves are found within the day." He handed the king a new roll of parchment. "The smaller groups of villagers patrolling have been particularly effective in keeping the Muri in line."
"I thought they would be." A smile curled King Bastion’s lips. "People can be very motivated when the gold in their pockets is at risk."
General Tavers cleared his throat. "There are growing concerns about the Muri in Grey City, sire. By our estimates, there are thousands, possibly more if any slaves from other kingdoms have escaped as well."
"They absolutely have." Bastion walked over to a large table covered in messages from other rulers who had enacted similar measures to keep their slaves in line. "And they are having mixed success. Overall, it seems they have been cowed within the cities and we are exploring our options concerning Grey City."
"What sort of options, my love?" Queen Anasia glided into the room and all the guards, squires, and scrambling messengers stopped to kneel. "Did I tarry too long to be of use with this most inconvenient conundrum?"
General Tavers kept his eyes on the floor and tried not to shiver as the queen went by him as her mere presence seemed to suck the heat out of the room. He didn't understand how the king could stand to look at her, much less take her to his bed.
"Nonsense, dearest," The king inclined his head and reached out a hand to her. "We would be most grateful for any help you could provide."
When their hands touched, Tavers grit his teeth. It must be like holding hands with a corpse.
"Excellent." Her dark eyes peered around the room. "Perhaps a bit of privacy, my king? This is highly sensitive information."
"Of course," The king clapped his hands, and everyone in the room scattered. Tavers went as fast as he could without making it obvious that being near Queen Anasia was more terrifying than any battle he could conceive of.
When the room was empty, the queen brushed aside the missives from other kingdoms and set a book on a clear surface open to a page with a picture of the Muri branding staff with tightly written notes all around it. "In my research on these brands, it appears the way it functions is it binds itself to a Muri's magic and consumes it; creating a loop where the magic of whoever is branded keeps the brand functioning."
"Quite clever of the old wizards." The king looked at the page but only gave it a quick glance. He didn't want to know the details of the queen's magical goings on. Knowledge is power but this is a power he didn't want to get involved in.
"My theory involves using this loop to consume the user's magic completely.” She smiled and the king thought of a scorpion waiting for an unsuspecting person to give them a reason to sting. "I will need to design the spell and test it but I believe this will cripple the Muri hiding in Grey City."
"Once this is perfected, we will contact the other kingdoms and raise an army to destroy that city down to the last stone." King Bastion stroked his wife's hand and preened when she leaned into him and pressed a kiss to his bearded cheek. "You are a marvel as always, my lady."
"You praise me far too soon." Closing the book, Queen Anasia hugged it to her chest. "I will earn such flattery with my work, my king." She cooed, gliding from the room.
As the king watched her leave, neither monarch noticed a small shadow scampering from behind some tapestries a servant's entrance. An undernourished Muri teen ran through dim hallways then to the bright, hot path leading to the kitchens.
"Pasha!" He hissed, tugging on the apron of the tall, muscular Muri kneading a massive mound of dough. "I have news that has to get to Grey City."
"Are you mad saying that name so loudly!" Pasha hissed, giving the teen a swat to the back of the head that left a white spot of flour on his ice-blue hair.
"Be easy on him, Pasha." The cook near the oven wiped her hands on a cloth and reached under the legs of the metal stove for a slip of paper. "Come quick, Mica. Tell me what you heard." She whispered, reaching close to the fire for the stick of coal she kept hidden among the burning wood.
"Yes, Mama." He leaned close to her ear while she bent over the table, transcribing everything her son had heard from the king and queen.
"Dear gods, this is horrific." Pasha gasped, his large hands drifting towards his belly to his brand. "Ragio, what should we do?"
"Get the information to those who can help." Ragio pulled out several strands of her own hair and rolled the scrap of paper into a tight tube. "I have to gather herbs for supper. Nobody should care why a hawk would fly over the gardens." Her fingers moved with amazing speed, the remaining eight functioning as fast as a full set of ten, wrapping the message in her hair and tying a strong knot.
Pasha covered the dough to let it rise. "I think we should all go. We can be a distraction just in case."
Ragio looked down at her hands, the missing pinkies a warning not to waste too much time gathering anything from the gardens. "And the guard's swords are thirsty these days." She muttered.
"We could gather berries for a desert and tell the guards we'll hide some for them." Mica smiled, a front tooth missing from his own brush with an angry guard. Lucky for him, a new one would replace it eventually.
"A worthwhile idea. And just in case, I'll gather some wood. It's easy enough to drop as the last resort."
The trio nodded to each other and Ragio tucked the message behind her clipped ear and under her hair, completely hidden from view. And just in time for the maid staff to come down with the royal requests for dinner. She brought the paper from the maid staff with all the orders so she could show it to the guard and the iron gates to the garden as proof of their request was valid and presented it to the guard at the garden gate.
"There are some herbs I need to gather for his highness and his queen for their dinner." Ragio held out the order for the garden guard to look at. He snatched the paper from her and read it quickly, then scowled at her, at Pasha behind her and Mica in between them.
"All three of you?"
"We are low on wood and the little one can help me gather fresh berries for a tart." Ragio kept her eyes downcast. Her heart pounded in her chest as the guard took his sweet time looking them over. He always did. It was only because he could. The shifts at the gardens were the most boring among castle assignments. Anyone who would dare steal from the castle would have been caught long before they ever reached the gardens as they were close to the center of palace grounds.
The queen insisted the gardens be close by if she needed supplies for her potions.
"Go on then." The guard tossed the order to Ragio, who was able to cover her revulsion at the thought of the queen by frantically trying to catch the parchment thrown at her. She was certain that ghoul of a woman had kept her severed fingers.
The guard opened the iron gate and shut it behind them.
One good thing about being a slave in the castle kitchens was access to the beautiful gardens. It was carefully organized so the fruits, vegetables, and herbs each had their own area, trees placed nearest the harvests that required partial shade, and dotted among the edibles were flowers to attract and repel all sorts of garden creatures. Butterfly houses hung from the sturdier trees and a hive of bees lived at the far end of the colorful area. If she weren't a slave, Ragio could spend hours wandering this oasis among the cold stone of the castle and away from the heat of the oven.
"Let's be quick." Pasha dragged a small cart behind him and headed for the woodpile while Ragio hastened Mica along and handed him a wide basket.
"Make sure you pick the red, plump berries. The green ones will be too sour."
"I know what to do, Mama." He groaned and ran off.
Shaking her head, Ragio reminded herself to stop treating him like a child. He had seen fifteen summers, not the mere ten he appeared. She prayed to the gods often for him to remain small, as if he grew too tall, he would be sold off and she may never see him again.
The roast would need savory herbs from the furthest area of the gardens so Ragio worked her way there by gathering vegetables for the sides and a few potatoes to thicken a soup. She glanced back at the gate and saw the guard yawning. His back was turned. Ragio went as far as she dared and gave a high-pitched whistle into the air. It disturbed a cluster of smaller birds who took off into the sky and luckily for her, it was in the opposite direction from the hawk.
The sound of Pasha using his ribbon to slice logs small enough for the oven and she tried to time her whistle to summon the bird. The impact of the ribbon and clatter of wood were closer to the guard than her call to the hawk.
The bird landed at her feet and Ragio used more of her hair to attach the message to its leg. "Good luck, little one." She whispered, giving the bird a pat on the head before nudging it to fly away, finding it hard to keep from watching it soar. There would be hell to pay if a guard caught her staring off into the sky instead of working.
"Almost done, Mama!" Mica called, waving to her. He'd seen the bird fly away and was signaling to Pasha the deed was done and to hurry along with their work.
"Good job." She called back, quickly snatching up everything she would need for dinner, a little for breakfast, and some herbs to dry just in case she ran out. Trips to the garden were rare and having a little extra for medicinal needs was always wise. Too many accidents happened to slaves in the castle and the only Muri trusted with herbs was a cook.
"You all done yet?" The guard bellowed from the gate without even turning around.
"Yes, sir. We will leave right away." Pasha gathered up an impressive amount of chopped wood (he may have had the same thought as Ragio, extra wood to boil bandages) and met her and Mica at the gate.
"Hey," The guard stopped them as they passed, leering at Ragio. "Any chance at something sweet for me?"
Ragio didn't panic. She was not to this guard's taste and she kept the fact another guard was his lover a secret. "Of course, sir. I'm sure I won't be able to keep proper count of how many tarts I make."
The guard's smile was gleeful and he waved them away.
"What do you think will happen?" Pasha said when they were in the safety of their kitchen unloading their gatherings.
"We honestly may never know." Ragio sorted through Mica's berries and picked the ripest of the bunch. They worked in silence, Mica jarring the hard berries, Ragio silently washing and chopping, and Pasha spreading lard into the metal loaf pans to prepare them for the dough; all desperately trying not to think of what the queen was planning.