Page 6 of A Crown Without Mercy

“I have nothing for you,” she stated adamantly.

“Just a scrap is all I ask for,” another begged.

Another grabbed Rana’s reins and pulled the wagon to a stop; a dozen Helots then rushed over surrounding the wagon.

She “turned,” bared her canines, leapt from her mare toward the one who was holding the reins, and seized his throat in a tight grip. “Remove your hand or I’ll remove it for you,” she snarled.

He gave a slight bow and released his grip just as Sylvana raised her knee and thrust her foot forward, sending him spiraling backwards. The rest of the group took heed and backed away.

Fucking scant, I would’ve ripped his throat out if their blood wasn’t so rotten,she thought, as she mounted Rana, again.

She passed rows of guards and numerous warriors before being stopped, two of whom held her mare’s reins, while two more approached and flipped open the burlap.

“More food for the mortals?” one of them asked.

“Yes,” Sylvana replied.

“You’re always in danger out there. Why do you insist on doing something so beneath you?” one of them asked.

Another looked at her as if in disgust. “I don’t understand why someone of your status would bother doing a Helots job?”

“It’s a wage, is it not?” she snarked. However, it was information she was seeking, not a wage.

“There are better ways for someone like you to earn denarius.”

Sylvana rolled her eyes and looked at the gate. “May I pass?”

He nodded at the guards, and they stood back, motioning her forward.

The noise of the outer courtyard became a sea of sounds, and the shadows being cast on the ground from the towers and turrets looked ominous and uninviting. She made it to the market, where tables and baskets of goods were being sold in a mess of confusion. She continued past the market and followed the cobblestone road until she rounded the corner, pulled Rana to a halt, and waited patiently at the back door of the kitchen for Muriel.

Sylvana was untying the burlap when she heard the clank of the lock. Muriel opened the door and pulled Sylvana in for a friendly hug.

“How was your ride? The fields are full of beggars today.”

“Yes, they are.” Sylvana chuckled.

“What happened?”

“Same as usual, only this time one of them grabbed Rana’s reins.”

“Scant is what they are. I don’t know why the Acherons allow it.”

“I have a feeling it’s more about listening to their whispers.”

Muriel smiled and led Sylvana into the expansive kitchen. “True, they chatter—a lot.”

Muriel turned to the staff and motioned toward the door. “Fetch the goods from the wagon.”

“Come, let’s talk in private,” Muriel suggested.

“First things first.” Muriel walked to the other side of the kitchen, collected two cups and an amber hued bottle filled with fresh ale.

They walked along a small hallway before they reached the main hall where the blue-gray walls rose like a fortress of stone. The light from the sun shone through the small, asymmetrical windows adorning every wall in perfect symmetry. Enormous statues and large oriental carpets decorated the main hall, while gigantic, black iron chandeliers filled with hundreds of candles hung from the cathedral ceilings.

“It’s beauty always catches me off guard,” Sylvana said.

“The Acherons would accept nothing less than regality in its finest,” Muriel replied.

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