Vessel Read Free Page A

roast partridge away from the flames. “It’s not much,” I said as I walked it over to the men in the cell and put it in the slot.
    “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush!” Kinder said, clearly delighted. They both devoured it eagerly, even as it burned their fingers and tongues. They groaned in pleasure and pain, but they didn’t stop eating until every bite was gone. When I dug the sunflower seed cakes out of the basket, they both smiled as if I’d presented them with the key to their freedom.
    “We should get arrested in Roma more often,” said Kinder, crunching on the sticky cake. “I can’t remember when I’ve eaten so well.”
    “Me neither,” said Recks, licking the honey from his fingers. “Just for that, I’m going to tell you the best story I know.”
    “I can’t stay much longer. I’ll be missed.”
    “Then I’ll be quick about it,” said Recks, wiping his hands on his shabby tunic and then holding them palms up toward the sky. “Mother Sun knows the hearts of all men. May they all please her.”
    That I’d heard many times. It was the traditional prayer before beginning any work. One never knew what might displease Mother Sun, so it was customary to let her know your intentions were good in the hope that she would take pity on you.
    “In the Time of Great Darkness, there lived a young boy. He had lost everyone and everything he’d ever known: his mother, his father, and his sister dead with many thousands of others. His village overflowed with the dead. No one was left to bury them all. Mother Sun willed it so, but she let this one boy live. He was special, wise beyond his years, and Mother Sun knew he could found a new race of men. She guided him to a sacred valley, high in the mountains, far from his home. On his journey, he met others like himself—thinkers, artists, healers, poets, and storytellers. They banded together and sought to create a world better than the one before the Time of Great Darkness. They built their city on the cliffs above a valley, where they live in comfort. To this day, they grow all they need. Everyone helps, none go hungry, and there are no slaves.”
    “No slaves?” I asked, incredulous.
    “Ask Kinder. He’s actually been there,” said Recks.
    “You have?”
    “Many moons ago. Then I got a crazy notion about wanting to study the peoples of the West. Now I wish I’d never left.”
    “No fool like an old fool, huh, Kinder?” teased Recks.
    The call of an owl outside reminded me I was in Roma, not a magical, shining city of freedom.
    “I have to go,” I said, standing up. I doused the embers of the fire with my water bag, sending steam hissing into the air.
    “Alana?” Recks whispered through the hole in the door. Two of his fingers poked out, reaching for me in the darkness.
    “Yes?”
    “Did you like the story?”
    “Like” seemed too casual a word for how I felt. Overwhelmed was a better choice. It stretched my imagination, showed me how much I didn’t know about the world. I trembled, knowing I’d remember this story for the rest of my pitiful life. Now in the cover of darkness, I reached out of the billa and touched his two warm, rough fingers with one of my own.
    “Yes.”

 
     
    “Master?” I’d finished my morning chores. I knelt at Dine’s knee in the way any proper slave would, waiting for him to acknowledge me. I couldn’t afford his anger. He could confine me to the house on a whim, and my prisoners would go hungry. They were all I thought about now. I cared for Dine’s children from time to time, but never anyone who needed me like this.
    Master Dine put on his jacket to go out. He turned toward me, impatient.
    “What’s Tow having you do for him?”
    “He told me to feed the prisoners once a day.” By now, news of the prisoners had spread through every home in Roma. The Reticents hardly ever came to this frigid corner of the world. Plans were underway for a reception. Everyone knew what had happened. Dine