The Black Sentry Read Free Page B

The Sentry typically did not permit slaves to accompany them when they performed official duties because it was thought slaves should not be trusted.
    He knew the slave, a short, broad-shouldered man called Martin. He served as pack animal for the entire group, toting their food and drink. One Sentry snapped his fingers, and Martin immediately pressed a flask to his lips. Another did the same. Because Martin was slow to respond, the Sentry cuffed the slave soundly on the side of his face.
    He turned away. He did not like seeing people mistreated, even if they were slaves. Bad enough to have so little personal freedom without being publicly humiliated.
    An older man ap proached his father’s booth—Mister Hayes, one of the elders of the village. He kept animals for slaughter near the North Gate. A patch of gray highlighted each side of his head. In a few years he would turn fifty, retire, and travel to Balaveria–a paradise where those who obeyed the Laws and Ways would live forever at the right hand of the Sentinel.
    A s usual, Mister Hayes came not to trade but to talk. “Have you heard the news, Mister Adkins?”
    “I’ve heard the gossip,” hi s father replied.
    “W hat do you think about it?”
    “ I hear rumors about the coming of the Acolyte every year at this time. But he never comes.”
    Hayes frowned . “I’m not talking about that foolishness. I’m talking about Mister Blackthorne.”
    Hi s father’s eyes darkened. “What about him?”
    “The Prosecutor has ruled . He is to lose his wife, and probably his livelihood.”
    “I am—sorry to hear that,” His father said haltingly.
    Hayes shrugged . “He knows the Laws and Ways, as we all do. He failed to produce a child. We have too few women of childbearing age. We cannot allow them to be wasted.”
    Hi s father nodded but remained silent. He knew his father was prudent and he should do the same. But he could not keep his mouth closed. “This hardly seems fair. They’ve been married for almost ten years and have always been happy. He’s the best physic in Merrindale.”
    “He k nows the Laws and Ways,” Hayes intoned.
    “But surely it’ s not his fault that he has no children.” Although he was hardly an expert, he knew enough of such things to believe that this was true.
    Hayes’ ey es rose to meet Daman’s father. “Mister Adkins, your son does not appear to be well versed in the Laws and Ways of the Sentinel.”
    Hi s father flushed. “Oh—I’m sure Daman did not mean—”
    “Then what did he mean?”
    “He meant nothing. He’s just a boy. Not even of Winnowing age. He knows nothing of these matters.”
    “He should be better instructed in the Laws and Ways . Someone might be tempted to report him to the Black Sentry as a blasphemer.” Mister Hayes lowered his eyes. “Are you a blasphemer, son?”
    He did not meet Hayes’ s gaze. “No, sir. I’m not.”
    “I’m glad to hear it. ” Hayes talked a bit longer about nothing at all, then finally left. He was relieved–but he could see that his father was even more relieved. His mother left abruptly, saying she needed to retrieve something from their home.
    Som e time later, Xander delivered a fresh batch of supplies. As always, Daman tried not to look at him. He didn’t know why. Xander just made him uncomfortable.
    “Thank you, Xander,” hi s father said. “Is everything well at the bakery?”
    Xander nodded courteously, then set his bundle down on a bench . He was a strong boy, with broad shoulders and tough sinewy arms. A lifetime of servitude undoubtedly produced firm muscles.
    “Any news of the day?”
    Xander hesitated. Like all slaves, he was cautious about speaking. In this instance, though, he had been asked a direct question.
    “Have you hear d the news?” Xander asked.
    “What news would that be?” his father asked.
    Xander’s voice drop ped to a whisper. “The Acolyte. They say he is coming to our village. That he will preside over the