Tebun, Chapter 1 Part 1
There's stuff about skin colour in here that I forgot to put in the Prologue. Another thing I have to remember to add. To understand this you have to know that Jack and Andria were both born and raised (both by their parents and Hurk) in Tebun, and are therefore Tebunese. Miek and Lusie are living in Gegraine, the capital city of Jaal (which also needs a better name, sheesh.) They are not Jaalan, however, even though they think they are. I haven't come up with names for any other countries yet, and my map is crap and needs re-drawing. Anyway, there's some background info for you.
I also decided it would be more interesting for Andria to be mute. (I'm sorry Chee, I'm sorry..) So she never regained her voice after her mother's death. She can hear just fine though.
1
The house was quiet. Downstairs in the kitchen and up in the attic, cats prowled on the hunt for mice and rats that evaded them night after night, surviving to return to their nests where the next generation constantly grew. Shadows penetrated every corner in the near silence of the midnight hour. Night was a sacred hour for most of the occupants of the house, when they could rest their aching bodies and tired eyes until morning, when the five o’clock bell would interrupt their dreamless respite.
In the girls’ dormitory Lusie Thunder lay awake, watching the shadows of the tree that stood stubbornly outside the window. They slow-danced on the grey ceiling and walls like ethereal creatures of twilight, crawling over the numerous blankets, worn and also grey, that covered the low wooden bed frames standing solemnly in three vertical rows down the room. Everything was grey in this place. Lusie pulled the blanket tighter around her arms, telling herself over and over in her mind that she wouldn’t have to wait much longer. Only until the midnight strike of the clock tower. It was the safest time to get out of bed because Miss Cockerel, the owner of the house, had at least three glasses of mulled wine by the eleven, and was always asleep by the twelve. Lusie knew from long experience that while the old woman was awake, it was a grave mistake even to lean out of the window for some fresh air. Miss Cockerel had an uncanny way of knowing if someone was out of bed. Some people suspected that she might be a witch, but never voiced this opinion for long. Others, like Lusie, reasoned that witches would have much better things to do with their power than run Tollorean House.
From the town square came the slow, deep sound of the tower clock striking. The bell in the tower was so large that it took two men to ring it, Lusie knew, because sometimes the bell ringers would hire some of the older boys to help when someone was ill. Lusie longed to go up there, to be able to see the whole city, maybe the whole of Jaal from the very top, like the boys said you could. But she was small even for an eleven year old, and although she could pull most of her weight when it came to lifting heavy pots, one of the bell ropes could probably pull her off the ground.
She counted to ten before sitting up slowly and carefully so as not to wake the other girls, and reached onto the floor for her pile of day clothes. She found a grey headscarf and used it to pull back her long flaxen-coloured hair. As she climbed cautiously out of the bed she brought the blanket with her, draping it around her shoulders like a cloak. Although it was not winter, when the dormitories would have icicles hanging outside the windows and the air inside would be misty with the breathing of all inside, she was only wearing a thin grey nightshirt, and Gegraine was never overly warm, not even in summer.
Deliberately she tiptoed across the wooden floorboards to the door, which was heavy, but unlike the door to the boys’ dormitory, wasn’t locked at night. The creak of the hinges as she tugged on the door handle caused some sleepy movement among her roommates, and she froze, waiting until the rhythm of heavy breathing set in once more. Then she squeezed through the small gap she had made between door and doorjamb, out onto the landing. Leaving the door slightly ajar, she crept forward to lean over the banister, both hands clutching the solid wood as she craned her neck to get a good view. The front hall was large - it had to be, to incorporate the size of the massive front door that took three boys to open fully. Then, to the left was the kitchen, and to the right was Miss Cockerel’s bedroom, which she only used at night and was locked from the outside at all other times. Lusie squinted. The door was closed, and there was no rusty iron padlock on the bolt. The room was occupied.
She took a deep breath, trying to keep it as silent as possible, and made her way across the landing to the staircase that led to the next level. The stairs themselves had been walked up and down on so much and for so long that every single step creaked - if you walked in the middle. Lusie carefully placed one foot, then another, on the very edge of the staircase, clinging to the wall as she climbed, slowly, never skipping a step because that put more pressure on the aging timber. Years of this routine had yet to make her over-confident, and she took each step with determination and purpose until finally she reached the next landing. Her destination was now within sight, but there was one last thing to do before she could be sure of safety. Once more she tiptoed over to the banister and leaned over, a cold breeze rippling the hem of her nightshirt. From here it was even harder to see properly, but the horrible door remained immobile.
She was about to smile with satisfaction and turn away when a sudden loud bang caused her heart to jump into her throat and her legs to buckle. She fell to her knees behind the banister, biting her lip hard to stop a scream. She dared not move as the banging continued, even when she realised that it was someone knocking on the big front door.
“Enough!” she heard Miss Cockerel screech from inside her room, and the next minute the skeletal figure of the old woman appeared in the front hall. Lusie shivered at the sight of that scrawny body in a long nightdress, a long braid of white hair snaking down its back and grey slippers on its feet. “Who d’you think y’are, calling at this hour?” Miss Cockerel shrieked, holding up an oil lamp.
A deep voice answered from beyond the door. “City Guard, Milady. Got two for you.”
Miss Cockerel pulled a large brass key from her pocket and turned it in the lock of the door before grasping the handle and pulling it towards her. She looked frail, but those arms of hers could probably bend iron. Her charges were afraid of her for many reasons, her cruel nature and harsh punishments, but she also had sheer physical power over them that few could rival. The door slid slowly open, and without thinking Lusie gasped at the sight of the huge man who stepped into the hall. Miss Cockerel’s head darted around like some absurd owl, and Lusie started backwards. Without even thinking of running back to her own room, she stumbled across the floor to where she’d been going in the first place - the boys’ dormitory. Her fingers slipped on the bolt, but there was conversation going on downstairs now and she must have been forgotten about… the bolt went back with a click and she pushed it open, pulling it shut behind her.
The knocking had awakened some of the boys, and now most of them sat up in bed, the younger ones looking pale and frightened, the rest displaying a mixture of worry and excitement. When Lusie entered, they all made startled movements, as if to duck back under the covers again, but a muttering soon broke out among them as Lusie leaned against the door, breathing heavily, waiting for her heart to stop beating so hard against her chest. A blonde boy pushed back his covers and stood. “Lu - what -?”
“Miek,” growled another. “Your damn sister is going to get us in trouble…”
The blonde boy ignored him as he ran towards Lusie. “What’s going on - we heard knocking…”
Lusie let her brother hug her tightly, breathing in the warm smell of his bare chest and tightening her arms around his body. “There’s a guard,” she gasped. “Cockerel came out, she almost saw me…”
Miek hissed through his teeth. “S’all right,” he told her, even though it wasn’t. Everyone in the room flinched when the front door downstairs banged shut. They waited. Lusie heard from below the sounds of Miss Cockerel shouting at someone. The guard? Then she realised it couldn’t be.
“He said he had two,” she whispered to Miek.
“New kits,” he breathed. “Boys or girls?”
“I didn’t see.”
“If they go in the girls’ room they’ll know she’s gone,” called one of the older boys from the back, gesturing at Lusie. “We’re all going to sleep in the basement tomorrow night.” A couple of the younger ones started whimpering.
“Don’t be idiots!” Miek hissed. “Be quiet, will you?” They were coming up the stairs to the second floor now, Lusie realised. “Hide!” said Miek and pulled her to his own bed, where she ducked underneath. It was a very small space but she curled herself up as small as possible all the same, and saw Miek’s feet disappear from beside her as he threw himself back into bed and pulled the blanket up to his chin. There was a rustling sound as the rest of the room did the same, and then all she could hear was the footsteps and Miss Cockerel’s voice as she led the guard and whatever prisoners they brought with them to the door of the dormitory. She tried not to flinch when it was thrown open.
“And you’ll ‘ave new clothes in the morning,” Miss Cockerel announced.
“You can’t keep us here!” said a boy’s voice, angrily.
“‘Ow dare you!” exclaimed Miss Cockerel.
“When will I see my sister?” asked the boy, still sounding angrier than Lusie would dare to appear while under Miss Cockerel’s furious stare.
There was a sharp smacking sound and a thump, and Lusie closed her eyes tight with fear. “That’ll teach you,” rumbled the voice of the guard. “You don’t talk like that teh a lady, boy. If'n it please you, Milady, I’ll be on me way…”
“O’Rourke,” snapped Miss Cockerel. “I’ll see you to the door. And next time wait ‘til mornin’ before bringin’ me the first kit you find on the street.”
“O’course Milady.”
The door opened, and slammed. There was a short pause before Lusie heard the bed above her creak as Miek sat up. “Hey,” he whispered, and Lusie realised that he wasn’t talking to her. His feet came once again into view as he got out of bed and made his way over to the centre of the floor, where Lusie lost sight of him. “Hey,” she heard her brother say again. “Are you all right?”
A grunting noise. A shuffle. “I think so. He got me a good one. Who’re you?”
“I’m Miek, Miek Thunder. Listen, did you say you had a sister.”
“Yes, she -” another grunting sound.
“Careful. Dizzy?”
“I’m all right now.”
“Did they go into the girls’ room on the way up here?”
“No, they just shoved her inside. Mercy, she’ll be so frightened…” Lusie held her breath. Mercy was the Tebunese god; she knew they had two, Grace and Mercy. Was the boy Tebunese? She’d only ever met one other person from there before, the butcher in the village just outside the Gegraine. She couldn’t remember what the butcher sounded like - the boy didn’t sound Jaalan at all.
“Lu, get out here.” Lusie almost hit her head on the bed frame at the sound of her brother’s voice. Carefully she crawled sideways out from under the bed. When she turned, she saw her brother standing beside an older boy, perhaps sixteen years old, with foreign-looking olive skin and roughly-cut black hair. He narrowed his eyes at the sight of her. “My sister Lusie,” Miek explained to him. “Go now, Lu, before she hears us. And - maybe not come back for a few nights, all right?”
She hugged him quickly and went to the door, which Miss Cockerel in her haste had fortunately left ajar.
“Wait!” called the foreign boy. Lusie flinched and turned. “Will you - could you please make sure my sister is all right?” he asked, a little desperately.
Lusie smiled. “Course,” she said, and left the dormitory to a few sighs of relief. The house was silent again - Miss Cockerel must have returned to her room. She took just as great care going downstairs as she had coming up - the recent drama would only throw the old woman off the scent for so long - and arrived, finally, back at the girls’ dormitory. When she walked in she knew immediately that everyone was awake, firstly because some had not mastered the art of breathing heavily while pretending to be asleep, and also because there was a olive-skinned girl with long dark hair tugged back into a braid, sitting up straight in one of the usually unoccupied beds, staring at her. Lusie closed the door and made her way over to the girl. Before she could get there, another girl sat up in bed and glared angrily at her. “What do you think you’re doing’?” she demanded. “Goin’ to see that brother o’ yours, why? You could’ve gotten all of us thrown in the basement!”
Lusie was getting a little tired of this accusation. She had actually had to sleep in the basement a few times, sometimes with lots of people, sometimes by herself, usually with Miek. She’d done it so much in fact that she was almost used to it, and had almost forgotten what it was about the place that scared so many of the other occupants of the house. “You’d know if’n you had a brother, Mora,” she muttered.
“Lots of us have, and we don’t go creeping upstairs every night to go see ‘em.”
Lusie wanted to say, that’s because you’re too scared. She wanted to say, it’s because I’m the only one who’s been here long enough to know how to do it. But she didn’t. There was little point, after all. “Quiet,” she said instead. “Or you really will get thrown in the basement.”
Mora glared a little longer, but lay back down again eventually, pulling her blanket over her head. Everyone who was watching the exchange did the same. All except the new girl Lusie had never seen before, who remained sitting up. She could only be the foreign boy’s sister. Lusie crept over to her and sat on the bed.
“Hello,” she whispered, knowing that even now she was taking a big risk in talking this much. The girl tentatively raised a hand and gave her a little wave. “I’m Lusie,” said Lusie. “Or you can call me Lu. I saw your brother upstairs.” The girl’s eyes widened. She started to make strange signs in the air in front of her, quite taking Lusie aback. “What d’you mean?” she asked.
The hands dropped. The girl sighed, dark brown eyes trying to communicate something to Lusie’s blue ones. “Don’t you talk?” Lusie asked at last. The girl smiled and shook her head. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
The girl shrugged. She pointed a finger to herself, then raised the finger into the air and drew in it, slowly and carefully, from left to right. After the first A, Lusie realised that she was spelling out letters. She praised the priest in the _ church, who had insisted that all the Tollorean House children learn how to read and write. Miss Cockerel had agreed with this if only so that she could hire them out to historians or monks as scribes.
She watched the letters carefully as the girl outlined them in the air between them. ‘A-N-D-R-I-A’. Lusie sounded it out. “Andria. Is that right?” The girl nodded. “It’s very pretty,” said Lusie. The girl touched her thumb to her forehead with a smile. Lusie frowned. “Does that mean… thank you?” Andria nodded, grinning. Lusie grinned back. “How old are you?” she asked. Andria held up first ten, then three fingers in reply, and then pointed at Lusie with raised eyebrows. “Eleven,” Lusie answered; proud that she understood this strange sign-language. “I have to go back to bed,” she said. “I’ll talk to you more in the morning, all right? Stay close to me; I’ve been here nearly forever.”
Andria raised her hand to her face, placing her thumb and forefinger just beneath her eyes before dragging them in a downwards motion, as if the fingers were tears. Lusie thought about this for a moment, wondering exactly what the strange girl meant. “Not very often,” she said, eventually, and went back to bed.
The last two paragraphs are awful. I have no idea how to structure it. Little help.. please?
And yes, I spelled 'kid' wrong on purpose.