The Silent Quest - IziCain (inspiring books for teens TXT) 📗

out and let me clean, you’ve lied enough.”
Havana grinned, her eyes tracing the open wounds on Anahita’s hands and half bare legs. The ugly bruise on her forehead was last to be examined, Anahita shook her head and her black hair slid forward, covering her swollen right eye. There was no more blood, but there was plenty of dirt to clean up.
“I know,” Havana examined her nails.
Havana never got a beating, she was beautiful and intelligent, she knew her role well, and that is why the Queen liked her. Believed her.
“Then go,” Anahita growled, making Havana raise a brow.
The lights were out; the moonlight was the only thing pouring shadows over the walls.
Havana barked a laugh, and then clapped a hand over her mouth, pointing a finger towards the door. “I don’t want a guard thinking that we’re having fun, they might beat me bloody.”
“When-” Anahita steadied herself on the wooden table which they used to chop meats and roll pastries. “Was the last time you were beat bloody?”
Havana’s mouth dropped, her featured flexed and she placed both hands on her hips, shaking her head sadly.
“Never,” it was an obvious answer, Anahita knew it. “Never ever beat bloody, they wouldn’t touch me. Ever!”
Anahita snarled and Havana giggled silently, and then slipped out of the kitchen, leaving it echoing silence, like the Dry Lands.
Anahita moved slowly, looking at the wrecked kitchen again, the crooked knives and the bent spoons. Someone must have taken their time to ruin this place, someone that was linked to- Havana.
Havana must have done something, if she doesn’t get beat then she doesn’t get blames, she gets away with the upmost dangerous activities.
Blinking her loneliness away, Anahita grabbed the cloth and wiped away the spilt juices. The spillages on the floors were much easier to handle, the mops sucked in most of the dirtiness, saved Anahita going on her knees and scrubbing the floor spotless. She moved along the kitchen, picking up skins and seeds, meats and other fresh foods. The tables were soon clean, and then she moved to the walls, someone had professional instincts to mess the place up with desserts, the apple pies they had served the Castle members were smudged everywhere. Anahita swallowed. She rinsed out the mop and raised it to the wall; she scrubbed the first two walls clean and then, a shadow reflected on the other.
Havana must be back, Anahita exhaled loudly.
She turned and raised the mop, mouth half open to announce a large curse, but she stopped. This wasn’t Havana; this was someone else, a tall strong figure in silver armour, not a Castle guard. He had bright blue eyes but sin black hair, the Persian eyes and the Arabian hair. He was what they called: half cast.
Anahita saw his tight features, the square of his jaw, just like hers, the slimness of his cheeks, just like hers. He was just like her, if only he had brown eyes.
“Who,” she stuttered. “W-who are you?”
There was no reply at first, then the man raised a bruised hand and rubbed his bleeding forehead which was covered with a lock of hair that fell into his eyes. Anahita cringed, his state was like hers.
“I-” his accent was firmly put. “I don’t know.”
Anahita held the mop tighter, crunched to her sore chest. He did not know who he was, that was a question she should have asked herself a few moments ago, but this man, who looked very sane didn’t know who he was? There had to be something wrong with him, something that didn’t quite get him to answer her formal question correctly.
“You don’t know?” she asked nervously.
He looked up at her, blue eyes almost white in this moonlight. He didn’t look harmful, but did indeed look harmed. He stood there for a few moments, making odd growling sounds, and then soon he stood straighter. His backbone cracked and he gasped, smiled at what was like himself and sat down on the table. Anahita struggled to form direct thoughts. Maybe he was a guard, beaten bloody because he didn’t do his job right, or maybe he was just another person who illegally entered the Castle walls.
“I don’t,” he nodded sadly, long legs dangling from the edge of the table.
Anahita leaned closer; he did not look much older than her, his solemn face showed courage and power, yet she sensed danger and damn.
“How?” her talking to men was one lesson she was taught by her parents long ago, they told her men were ruthless and savage creatures. But Anahita knew they were partly right, her father was neither a bad man like her mother had explained about others. It did not seem fair enough.
“You talk way too much, child.” He sighed irritably and cringed at her lost face. “By the name of Mu'aqquibat, what happened to you?”
Anahita looked baffled, then realised that she herself was also torn and bruised. “Me?”
“Don’t you know you?” he rolled his eyes painlessly.
Anahita set the mop down, “I do indeed. I was- never that mind you. I do not know you, you need not know about me.”
He got up from the table and Anahita saw that he wore a cloak of silk black, his hair just stopping under his ears in wavy curls. She almost tripped when she saw the sword and daggers strapped to his back and chest. He had to be a guard, ready to beat her for speaking like such a pathetic child. Anahita cursed herself, and cursed him too for disturbing her quiet cleaning.
“I buy maids,” he said instead of beating her, Anahita looked surprised.
“The maids are down the corridor, to the left-”
“Special maids,” he interrupted with a sniff.
Anahita frowned, “special? All the maids here are little creatures of evil and-”
“You,” he sounded almost angry, but not quite. “You’re a maid, guard servant be or the Queens servant, you are a maid none the less. You, I want to buy you, a sharp tongue is most necessary in my kingdom.”
Anahita froze, he was a king? But this was impossible.
Where were his guards? He needed them for safety; she would have attacked him with that mop for all she knew.
“Your, kingdom?”
“Yes,” he checked his hands again and sniffed although crying. “Well, not my kingdom. I’m from Arabia, travel to buy maids. You look fit for the job, now...”
He looked her up and down and grinned, “A little too thin, but we can sort that out sometime soon.”
Anahita blushed angrily, “I don’t know. I have been in Persia for most of my life, since my parents-” she stopped herself again.
He looked at her again, like he knew something, and then motioned her towards the door. She did not move, she stood there like a statue and watched him peek out the door.
Who was this man? Why was he buying maids? She knew he was no longer a King, but just an ordinary person, or maybe a guard.
“Come on child,” he turned back, hissing through his reddened teeth. “We have no time.”
Anahita was utterly confused; she looked around the kitchen and frowned. Who would clean up the mess? Havana? No, it would most likely be Ali, Queen Concetta hated him too, and he always saved Anahita from more punishments. It had to be him; he would come up here wounded like a cat and clean up the mess Havana had planned to make. Anahita could not imagine Ali getting beat, he would most likely die.
“We can get that sorted,” he frowned. “Come on, trust me, I will get someone to clean it up.”
When she didn’t move, he came to her slowly, watching her breathing hard, examining her sore legs. She could have hardly made a run if she needed to, she couldn’t have outrun a tortoise. He gently but firmly took her by the wrist, she snarled and shook him off, jumping awkwardly and landing painfully on the tiled floor. He jumped back in shock, but it was all too soon because as soon as she landed on the floor, a foot snapped back and she cried aloud.
He swivelled to the door and unleashed his sword just as guards pounded in, the man leaped forward and struck the nearest guard in the chest, without a sound he spun again and chopped off the others hands. They each gasped but did not roar in pain; instead they kicked the man in the stomach and barked curses.
Anahita struggled to stand, her whole body sweaty and sticky, she watched the fight with both eyes glued to the men. Her mind on the other hand was focusing on the broken foot, she tried her hardest not to bend it or flick it or dangle it, but whatever she did; it still did all those things.
The man came flying over the tables and landed by her feet, in surprise Anahita toppled backwards and yelped. She could see no more guards, but the ceiling instead. The man sprang up and grabbed her around the waist, hiked her over his right shoulder and pushed his arm out like he was opening a door, Anahita did not see what was happening but heard a glass break. Then the man jumped. No surprise that he jumped straight through the window, the last thing Anahita saw of the kitchen was another two guards running towards them.
The descend was deafening, Anahita could not scream, the wind whipped at her wounds and images of the beating flashed behind her watery eyes. The way Havana’s eyes widened when the blood sprang up like a fountain, the way Ali covered his eyes and prayed to God. The way the other servants turned and left without a word, it was all a work of evil. No one to stop her, not even her best friends, and this man was saving her from it. Maybe where he was going to take her would be softer, kinder, and safer.
They landed softly, but Anahita was not allowed to put her feet on the ground, looking around from over his shoulders she realised that they had jumped the three mile fall from the Castle back, they were outside the gates. Free from the horrible guards, the tormenting Queen Concetta and into the real world. Out there.
Where Anahita’s parents died.
“We do not stop,” the man said without sounding out of breath. “I do not stop.”
He laughed sourly, and then said: “What is your name?”
Anahita hesitated, and then blinked, she might as well tell. There was not point hiding, he would call her ‘child’ like he had several times in the kitchen.
“Anahita Meerad.”
He nodded, voice a whisper, “Ren Talon.” TWO

REN ran fast, so fast that everything looked like a hazy blur to Anahita. The woods that surrounded the Castle and the lands were thick and extremely clean. No leaves on the floors and no animal mess. The mud was cleaner than it had been inside the Castle walls, sprinklers tended to muck it all up, just to simply make fun of people if they tripped over it. Anahita had been the victim a few times; it had not been a steady fall to the dirt.
Ren ran on for a long, long time, his legs as Anahita glimpsed were mostly invisible. It was funny, seeing him run this fast, seeing someone so different from you.