Laria
The night air was chilly and dry. Laria shivered and pulled her robes tighter, but the fabric was too thin to offer much warmth. The camel plodded monotonously along, its thick hide impervious to the breeze. As for Roderick, he preferred to travel on foot beside the beast.
“Please, Master Roderick,” she urged. “You should be the one riding.”
“Nonsense, Laria. We’ll make better time this way. You wouldn’t last an hour without becoming exhausted.”
“That isn’t true. I walked in the desert for days when the slaver still had me.”
He grunted. “Even so, I won’t let you walk while I ride.”
“Then why don’t we both ride? The camel has borne us both before. Please, Master Rod—”
“For the thousandth time,” he snapped at her, “I am not your master.”
Laria bit her lip. Roderick was such a mystery to her. He had a temper as short as her cruelest masters, and yet the way he treated her was anything but cruel. Her first reflex was to shy away from his outbursts, but she knew now that he would not hurt her, and that encouraged her to be more bold.
“The night air is cold, and my robes are too thin to keep me warm. It would be better if we sat together.”
He gave her an odd look, then took off his cloak. “Take this,” he said, holding it out to her.
“But won’t you be cold, Master—I mean, Roderick?”
“I’ll be fine. Besides, we’ll probably stop for the night soon. Like you said, they probably aren’t following us, and even if they are…” his voice faded into silence.
Laria took the cloak gratefully and wrapped it around her small frame. She wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped in his arms instead.
“That town was little more than a lair of ruffians and thieves,” Roderick muttered, as much to himself as to her. “First they tried to buy you, like so much freshly slaughtered meat, and then they tried to kidnap you. Can you believe such a thing?”
Yes, Laria thought, remembering how one of her previous masters had done exactly that, throwing her over his horse and galloping off while her previous master’s estate burned behind them. Thankfully, he hadn’t found her alluring enough to keep her, and had traded her with a passing slave caravan. He had been a particularly cruel master.
“My father didn’t believe in keeping slaves,” Roderick continued as he walked alongside the plodding camel. “He believed that every manservant and maidservant should be paid for honest work. But when the coin of Xulthar flooded the realm, our family’s wealth began to evaporate. Too late, he learned that the coin was cursed.”
As Roderick spoke passionately about his desire to restore his family’s house, she found herself drawn both to him and to his story. If his temper was bewilderingly short, it was because of all the wrongs he had suffered—wrongs that he was determined to set right, just like he was determined to set her free.
“That’s why our house fell,” he told her. “My father was falsely accused of the very corruption of which those in power were guilty, and we lost everything: our home, our lands, our wealth. Everything.”
“And that is why you seek the riches of Xulthar?” Laria asked.
“Aye,” Roderick said eagerly. “The lost city of Xulthar is said to contain treasures beyond imagination. Surely, it must be enough to restore my family’s wealth and honor.”
“But what about the curse? Isn’t Xulthar’s treasure cursed as much as its coin?”
His expression suddenly darkened. “Aye,” he admitted. “That is why I must first defeat the evil that possesses it. After that, I will seize the riches that lie therein and restore what was wrongly taken from us.”
“But how?” Laria asked, confused. “You are just one man, Roderick. How can you hope to defeat the dark sorcery of Xulthar alone?”
He didn’t answer, and a brooding silence fell upon them as they journeyed through the night. With a start, Laria realized that Roderick had lost his hope—that he fully expected to die on his quest, just like all the other adventurers who had sought the lost city before him. That was why he was so determined to be rid of her—because he did not want her to die with him in his hopeless cause.
“Roderick,” she said softly, “I want to go with you to Xulthar.”
“Are you certain?” he asked. “The way through the desert is fraught with danger, and we may not return alive.”
“I am certain,” she said, her voice firm. “You are a good man. I don’t want to leave you, and—”
How could she adequately express how she felt? This all was something new—something she had never experienced with her other masters. In spite of his short temper, Roderick saw her not as a possession, but as a person worthy of his respect. It made her feel truly seen and heard, perhaps for the first time in her life. And perhaps for the first time, she was beginning to truly see herself, too.
“I don’t want to take you as a slave,” he told her, his voice equally firm. “If we go to Xulthar together, we go as companions—as equals.”
“Yes,” she agreed, surprising herself.
“You are a free woman now, Laria. You are free to come and go as you please. And if for any reason you should desire to turn and leave me—any reason at all—I will not stop you.”
“Yes,” she agreed readily. “Whatever fate befalls us, my life is in my own hands now.”
Her own words sent a chill down her spine, apart from the cold night air. Even now, the thought of embracing her freedom filled her with dread and fear. Life was so much easier when the burden of caring for herself was in somebody else’s hands, even if that person exploited and abused her.
Roderick turned, and their eyes met in the dim light of the stars. “Do you truly mean that, Laria?”
“Yes,” she said, the words spilling out of her. “I will go with you to Xulthar, not because I have to, or because I have nowhere else to go, but because I want to accompany you there. Yes—this is what I want.”
“Not just to be my slave?”
“No. You are a good man, Roderick, and it would make me happy to serve as your slave, but since that is not what you want for me, I will accompany you as a companion instead.”
“Then you accept that you are a free woman now? That you no longer have to call me, or any other man, your master?”
Laria hesitated. Again, the same fear gripped her. “I accept that I am free to come and go as I please,” she said carefully. “And I want to go with you to Xulthar, to help you succeed in breaking the curse and righting the wrongs you have suffered.” And to convince you not to throw your life away on a hopeless quest, she thought but did not say aloud.
As if sensing her thoughts, he turned sadly away from her. “I have to be honest with you, Laria. I do not expect to return from Xulthar alive.”
Laria nodded. “I know.”
“You do?”
“Yes. Isn’t that why you wanted me to find a place to settle down? I can see it in the way you brood over everything, and how willing you seem to throw your life away when you fight.”
He grunted. “You have a keen eye, Laria.”
“No, I’m just good at reading people. And what I see in you worries me, Roderick. Have you lost all hope of success? Are you so obsessed with honor that you’ve forgotten your own happiness?”
She stopped, and the only sounds that answered her were the plodding of the camel’s hooves and the whistling of the desert wind. Knowing that it sometimes took time for me to work through and understand their feelings, she waited patiently as Roderick took a deep breath.
“Some people say that the only difference between a slave and a free man is that one of them understands he is a slave.”
Laria frowned. “What do you mean?”
“We all must serve something. Most people serve only themselves, and thus become slaves to money.”
“How is that? I don’t understand.”
“Curse or no curse, we all must use money, for everything in this world has a price. For those who only serve themselves, the acquisition and spending of money ultimately becomes the object and purpose of their existence.”
“And so they become slaves to it,” Laria finished for him. When he put it in those terms, she understood the concept precisely.
“Aye,” said Roderick, kicking a stone. “So in a way, Laria, you were perhaps more free as a slave than most of your masters.”
“And what about yourself? What do you serve?”
“I have always sought to serve something higher than myself, such as honor, or my house.”
“Or your family,” she added.
“Aye,” he said, nodding. “Or my family.”
“Do you plan to have a family of your own someday, Roderick?”
In the silence that followed her question, the stillness of the desert seemed to wash over them. “I do not know,” he finally answered. “What about you, Laria? Was family ever part of your plans?”
The question gave her pause as well. As a slave, pregnancy and child rearing were things that just happened to you—like so many other things in her life, they were outside of her immediate control. As of yet, her womb had never born a babe. But she knew of no reason why she couldn’t bear children if she wanted. If she were truly a free woman now—and the thought still sent a shiver of fear down her spine—then the possibility of starting a family of her own was well within her own power.
“Not until now,” she said honestly. “It is… something I will have to think about. As a slave…” her voice trailed off.
“This is why we are meant to be free,” he mused, staring off at the starry horizon. “Slaves beget naught but slaves, and cursings follow the children unto the third and fourth generation. But blessings follow as well, and families, like people, are strongest when they are free.”
“Wise words,” Laria whispered softly enough that only she could hear. Roderick gazed out across the desert, lost in his thoughts. She could feel his struggle within her own heart, and it filled her with a longing to ease his burden somehow. He was a good man with a strong sense of honor and a fierce loyalty to those he cared for. That alone set him apart from every man she had known, but he also had the courage to risk his own life for those he cared for, even if it cost him everything. Surely a man like this deserved to be a king. And yet, he seemed so lonely in this dark and honorless world that it made her want to weep for his sake.
On impulse, she took the reins of the camel from him and brought the beast to a stop. “What are you doing?” Roderick asked as she swung her leg over the side of the saddle and leaped to the ground beside him.
“I’ve had enough riding,” she told him. “From now until we make camp, I want to walk beside you—unless, of course, you would prefer to ride.”
“No,” he said quickly. Then, with a shrug, he led them off again.
As they walked, Laria slipped her hand in his. He accepted the gesture with apparent indifference, but she sensed an added quickness to his step that hadn’t been there before.
“Roderick,” she said softly, “you don’t have to face your struggles alone.”
He turned his head to look at her, then gave her a sad smile. “Thank you,” he said quietly, “but I don’t want you to suffer for my sake. Only I can face my own demons.”
“No,” Laria said quickly. “I’m here for you, Roderick. I’ll stand by your side and face down those demons with you. You don’t have to face everything by yourself.”
A strange new warmth spread inside her as she spoke, and she sensed that her words surprised him as much as her. But Roderick shook his head.
“Laria—you do not know what you say. Xulthar is a place of darkness and death. If you stay by my side and share in my fate, it may be worse for you than if you had remained a slave.”
Laria’s heart skipped a beat, but she steeled herself with a determination she hadn’t before known she was capable of possessing.
“I know the risks, Roderick. But I can’t just leave you to suffer alone. Our fates are tied together now, and I want to follow you to the end.”
He opened her mouth to say no, but when he looked into her eyes, the word died on his lips. A newfound admiration for her filled his gaze, and he squeezed her hand, giving her a pleasant thrill. But then, his expression grew grim once again.
“I wish you wouldn’t come.”
“Why not?” she asked, frowning. “Though I may not be a warrior like you, I know what it means to face danger and death. I’ve faced it quite often, as a slave.”
“This is a different kind of danger. The dark sorcery of Xulthar consumes everyone who goes there. If—”
“Then I have to go with you, Roderick. I can’t just stand by and let you be consumed.”
“Your courage is unquestioned, Laria. But there is a difference between bravery and foolishness. Do you understand the distinction?”
“Do you?” she retorted. “Roderick—you’ve told me that I am free. That means I can choose where I go—and I choose to go with you. To Xulthar.”
He studied her face for a moment, then gave a small sigh. “Very well, Laria,” he said finally. “But there may come a time when you regret this decision.”
“Isn’t that the price of being free?”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “I suppose it is.”
Laria
The desert seemed softer in the predawn light. Laria stole from the tent that she and Roderick chastely shared and walked barefoot across the dusty sandstone to the nearby ridge. The hills were not as high here as the dunes of the deep desert, but she was still out of breath when she crested the top.
The desert was so empty and vast. She could understand why it drove some travelers mad. But for Laria, the solitude was a welcome respite. Here, there were no demands or interruptions: just the peace and silence she needed after the tumultuous turn of recent events.
She marveled at the sheer beauty of it all: the rugged mountain peaks that loomed in the distance, the sandy plains that stretched out before her, the cloudless sky speckled with a million lingering stars. Most of all, she was struck by the serene stillness of the landscape, which—though barren—still possessed its own beauty.
As the cool night breeze rustled clumps of dried grass, the sound made her muse on the relentless march of life. She shivered and hugged her knees to her chest, pulling Roderick’s cloak tighter as she pondered on the course her own life had recently taken.
It had all happened so quickly, the events that had torn her from the life of slavery she had ever known. Even now, she felt torn between embracing her newfound freedom and rejecting it, for fear of the unknown. She missed the familiarity of her old life, for even in the hardest times it had still been predictable. But she couldn’t deny the possibility and promise of adventure that came with the uncertainty of her future.
And then there was Roderick. Laria found herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t quite explain. He was strong and reliable, with fierce determination that she found wonderfully admirable. Truly, he was the best master she had ever known. But unlike all her previous masters—even the first, who had all but adopted her as his own daughter—Roderick treated her as her own person, and not just a piece of property. It was a foreign concept to her, but one she found more appealing with each passing day.
And of course, since he had freed her, he was her master no longer. She wasn’t sure if that made him less to her, or somehow much more. Would he continue to protect her? Probably—after all, he had protected her from Jamal and his thugs. He would probably continue to do so all the way to Xulthar.
As she gazed at the predawn sky, her ponderings were abruptly disturbed by a rustling in the grass. It was too heavy to be the wind, and seemed to be accompanied by the crunch of approaching footsteps, though perhaps that was just her imagination. She held her breath, and when she heard it again, her heart began to pound.
She turned just in time to see a massive figure materialize from the darkness, its form hulking and powerful. It had the appearance of an otherworldly creature, with the head of a lion and the body of a man. In its hands, it carried what looked like a golden scepter.
Laria gasped in fright, but before she could act, the creature spoke. Its voice was deep and guttural, like the rumbling of distant thunder.
“Fear not, little one. I am Zonthar, one of the old gods of Xulthar.”
“You… you are a god?” Laria managed to say.
Zonthar nodded, and Laria realized that she could see through his ghostly body, which had the shimmering quality of a mirage. “Tell me, little one: what brings you to the edge of the forbidden desert? Why do you seek the forgotten city?”
“I—my name is Laria,” she stammered. “As for Xulthar, I seek it with my friend.”
“Your friend?”
“Yes. His name is Roderick, and he seeks the city to confront the evil power that dwells there.” A chill ran down her spine as she realized that Zonthar might well be a part of that power. But when she looked into his cat-like eyes, they seemed to hold only sympathy and sorrow.
“Your friend,” Zonthar repeated, this time as a statement of fact. “Perhaps. But I think it more likely that he is your master, and you are his slave.”
Laria’s heart sank. “Yes,” she admitted. “Until now, I have been a slave all my life.”
“Until now?”
“My… friend, Roderick, was indeed my master. But he made me a free woman, or at least, that is what he tells me.”
“Do you feel that you are free?”
Laria didn’t know how to answer. Before she could, the god sat beside her on the ridge.
“I, too, was once a slave,” he said, his voice as woeful as the lonely whistling of the wind. “It is a hard and miserable life.”
“You, a god, were once a slave?” Laria asked incredulously.
“Yes. Xulthar was once the seat of a mighty empire, and as one of its gods, the fame of my cult spread far and wide. But my worshippers exalted themselves, and sought to chain me with their unrelenting dogma. Alas, too late I realized that even a god can be a slave.”
Laria blinked in wonder. “How can that possibly be?”
“In the same way that your friend has become a slave to the expectations of honorless men,” Zonthar told her. “As a patron god of Xulthar, I thought myself all-powerful, but the more I showered my worshippers with miracles, the greater their expectations became. They sought to bind me with their worship, and ultimately succeeded, for how could I disappoint them and retain my place in Xulthar’s pantheon?”
Laria listened intently, though most of the old god’s words went over her head. Still, she understood enough to make her wonder. She had never supposed that a god could be a slave.
“What happened?” she asked.
Zonthar took a deep breath, and the sound was like the rushing of a mighty wind. “My followers turned to the worst forms of wickedness that you can possibly imagine. Their worship was tainted with their greed for wealth and their lust for power. And so I disowned them, instructing my priests and prophets to preach that I had abandoned them to their own destruction. They responded by cursing my name and casting down my high places, slaughtering those who had given them my word. I have wandered in exile ever since.”
As the stars began to flee from the rays of dawn, Zonthar began to fade as well. Was he just a figment of her imagination? If not, he was little more than a ghost now.
“Why have you come to me?” she asked, gazing into his feline eyes.
“My power is feeble compared with the evil that haunts my former abode. But with the last of my waning strength, I have come to give you a gift, and a message.”
“Me?” Laria asked in shock. Zonthar’s form began to fade more rapidly.
“Listen well, little one! The dark and sorcerous powers that possess the ruins of Xulthar are seeking you for an evil end. To defeat them, you must embrace your newfound freedom and accept my final gift.”
He held out his hand to reveal an ancient gold coin, which glinted in the predawn light.
“This coin is free from Xulthar’s curse,” Zonthar told her. “Its value is nearly priceless, for it was minted during the height of Xulthar’s glory. Now, it is yours. Use it to forge a new life for yourself, as a free woman.”
Laria sat as still as a stone, rooted to the spot as Zonthar slowly vanished before her eyes. When he was gone, the first rays of dawn began to alight on the tops of the distant mountains. Shivers ran down her arms, and not just from the chill air.
Had she truly just spoken with a god? Or had she merely dreamed it? Now that it was over, she could not believe it was anything other than a dream. And yet, as she stared where the apparition had sat, a glint in the sandy ground caught her eye. Sure enough, it was the ancient gold coin—the final parting gift of the god.
Laria picked it up with trembling fingers. She felt the surprising weight of it in her hand, and for a moment was in awe of its strange beauty.
But how could she possibly take such a valuable coin for herself? She had never owned any before, and so far as she could tell, treasures like this brought only trouble and sorrow.
For a moment, she considered giving the coin to Roderick instead. But then, she realized that he would ask her how she got it. He would never believe that a god had given it to her—indeed, the very thought seemed ridiculous even to her. She must have simply dreamed it in the starry haze of the night.
Laria sat lost in thought, torn between her fear and the fortune she held in her hand. Finally, she made her decision.
“No,” she whispered as she flung the coin with all her strength. It shimmered briefly in the dawn’s soft rays, then struck the ground and disappeared from view. Satisfied, she rose and returned to the camp, ignoring the forlorn howling of the desert wind around her.
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