The New Modrain

by “Amaranth Rose”

copyright 2002

Chapter 1

A Knight is sworn to uphold the weak, defend the innocent, protect the foolish and balance the strong. A Knight shows valor in conflict, courage in danger, unswerving loyalty, and mercy and compassion to all. A Knight is the custodian of Liberty, Justice, and Peace. A Knight behaves with Honor, Truth, Grace and Courtesy at all times. Thus does a Knight bring light and order to the fabric of the Universe.

The map in Doug’s lap began to slide, and he clutched at it, catching it just before it went to the floor. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and wiped a few stray locks of hair from his brow. Retrieving the map carefully, he smoothed out the several slight wrinkles he’d made in it. Then he stretched slowly, shifting slightly in his seat as he straightened out his long legs. On his feet he stood more than six feet tall, and he was thin and muscular. Too thin, actually, but that was as a consequence of his recent experience on Na’Chotle.

Several months in prison as the guest of the High Council of the Crystal Matrix Knighthood had nearly killed him three times over. The poisoning he’d suffered from the jail food when he’d first been imprisoned had had a profound effect on Doug. It had left him thin and gaunt, with deep hollows in his cheeks and the tendons in his neck and wrists standing out sharply. He’d lost a great deal of weight, between that and the anemia he’d suffered from, and he was only now beginning to shake off the last of their combined ill effects.

“Nothing but a scrawny, skinny, insignificant little slip of a boy,” Lord Yahveen, the Castellan of Modraya, had called him, on first seeing him. Though he was more than Doug’s equal in height and stature, Doug had soon convinced him otherwise. Yahveen had misjudged Doug badly, and had found himself caught in a steely grip, unable to move, as a result of his error. Despite their unpropitious first meeting, they’d grown to be good friends.

The older man in the seat next to his gave Doug an appraising glance. He’d known him all his life. Master Shan-ji had in fact helped bring him into the world when Doug’s mother suddenly went into labor and a midwife could not be found in time. He was a slim, wiry man of medium height and indeterminate age. His lined face gave evidence of much wisdom and a normally sunny disposition that had seen its share of joy and sorrow. The elder Knight smiled at his former apprentice.

“You should get some sleep, Dou-Gai-Han,” Master Shan-ji remonstrated. “You’ve plenty of time yet before this shuttle reaches Modraya. You don’t have to memorize every rock and rill.”

“I was just looking for likely places to put in hydroelectric plants, Master,” the young Knight said contritely. He yawned behind his hand. “And I’m not tired, really.” He glanced around the shuttle’s passenger bay.

Lord Marlid, the Modrayan Chief Constable, was sound asleep a few seats away, his voluminous red and gold trimmed black cloak swirled close around him, accentuating his burly black-bearded bulk. Lord Yahveen and Lord Ronat, the Archivist, were similarly occupied on the other side of the shuttle’s passenger bay, wrapped in identical cloaks. Even though Ronat was noticeably smaller than the other two Modrayi, he still made Doug look short and slender at his six-plus feet. It was thanks to their efforts that Doug had survived the attack of a schickbat while in jail on Na’Chotle. The creatures fed on the life force of other living things, and they especially preferred Crystal Matrix Knights. Doug wondered briefly if all Modrayan men had beards, and made a note to ask when the opportunity arose.

The three of them together constituted the basic governmental structure of Modraya, the planet that was their final destination. As the new Modrain, or Governor, Doug would become their overlord, and the final authority on Modraya.

The last occupant of the shuttle was engrossed in a computer screen. His softly glowing green compound eyes echoed the light from the dim screen. His exoskeleton glinted weirdly in the dim light as it shone off his glistening shell with its green, brown and black mottled markings. Rangar most closely resembled a five-foot long cross between a grasshopper and a preying mantis, studded with sharp thorny armored projections on his body and legs. Doug half-turned to watch him for a moment. Rangar glanced at him briefly and nodded before returning to the computer.

Shan-ji took advantage of Doug’s momentary distraction to quickly take possession of the map. Doug gave him an annoyed look.

“Master, I was using that,” he said, sounding slightly peeved.

“Prince Rangar is a Fabreetzan, Dou-Gai-Han. They can easily go three weeks without sleep. You can’t, so don’t try it.” Shan-ji sounded slightly amused.

Doug turned to look at him, and the old Knight touched him gently on the forehead. It was an old Knight’s trick, but Doug didn’t see it coming. He stared at Shan-ji for a moment.

“What was that for, Master?” he asked drowsily.

“Consider it a new form of discipline. Now get some rest.”

“But I’m not tired, really. I’m f-f-f….” Within moments he was sound asleep.

Shan-ji regarded him soberly.

“Nevertheless, my young friend, you need some rest. And if you cannot take care of yourself, someone else will have to apply the brakes from time to time. You’re only just getting over the anemia, and you don’t need a relapse.”

Rangar spoke then, his high-pitched, somewhat shrill voice softly muted so as not to disturb the others.

“Are all Malledorans so stubborn, Master?”

Rangar was Shan-ji’s most recent apprentice. He was a Fabreetzan, and the first of his people to have attained the status of Crystal Matrix Knight. There had been some reluctance on the part of the High Council to grant him the status of a full-fledged Crystal Matrix Knight, but in the end they’d been forced to admit him to their ranks. It was one of Shan-ji’s finer accomplishments, diplomatically speaking, and he was justifiably proud of that achievement.

Shan-ji shook his head.

“No, Rangar. Dou-Gai-Han is an extraordinary case. With Leo for a father, and Lina for a mother, how could he be otherwise?” They both chuckled softly.

Shan-ji placed the map aside with his book, and soon Rangar heard him snoring gently. If he’d been able to, he would have smiled. As it was, he made an amused gesture with a forelimb.

“You never did tell me what happened the first night we were on Fabree’s Planet,” Doug said to Marlid the next afternoon. Long shuttle flights such as this one tended to become boring, and story telling served to relieve the tedium.

“No, I did not, My Lord.” The Chief Constable of Modraya did not look at Doug, and seemed reluctant to talk, but Doug was undeterred.

“Please, tell me what happened?” Marlid sighed and looked at him then. One glance told him Doug would not let the topic die. He spoke then, choosing his words carefully.

“Judge Mercer and I had a very interesting discussion when I accosted him on the way into your bedroom in the middle of the night. We came to an understanding very quickly.”

“Was that before or after you cut him on the nose?” Doug asked, watching Marlid’s face carefully.

Shan-ji looked startled. Marlid’s eyes widened slightly and he hesitated a moment.

“Before,” he said reluctantly. “I only wanted to make sure he didn’t forget what we had agreed upon. Pain sometimes helps to jog people’s memories a bit.” He looked carefully at Doug. “How did you know about that?”

“I saw the blood on the floor and the bandage on the nose, and put two and two together.”

“I knew I forgot something,” Marlid said coolly. “I didn’t clean up the floor.”

Doug and Shan-ji spent most of the shuttle trip learning more of the Modrayan language and poring over maps. The crews that Doug had sent on ahead had reported in while they were on Fabree’s Planet, and they charted their progress carefully.

“In a few weeks, we should be ready to start wooing the well-to-do with the promise of light and power,” Doug said. “The castle should be fully wired by then. And I have something very special in store for the great hall.”

“Do you really intend to put an end to slavery, My Lord Modrain?”

Doug looked at Yahveen. The Castellan looked hopeful.

“Yes,” he said firmly, without hesitation. Then he sighed. “But not immediately, unfortunately. It plays too big a role in your economy at the moment. But I will do my best to improve the lot of your slaves immediately. And your women. That much I can do.”

What he had heard of how Modrayan women were treated filled him with horror. Under the existing Modrayan laws, they could be beaten, even killed, with impunity. As far as he could tell, cattle were treated better on Modraya. He meant to change that immediately. Ronat looked at him with keen interest.

“What do you propose to do, My Lord?”

“I’m not entirely sure, Ronat. It depends on what I see when we get there.”

The three Modrayi glanced at one another.

“I don’t think you’re going to like it, Modrain,” Ronat said quietly.

“I hope he doesn’t,” Marlid asserted.

Doug looked at him curiously, but did not pursue the subject.

They arrived on Modraya in the middle of the night. Doug admired Chee’s skill as he landed the shuttle by the light of lanterns that were hung around the perimeter of the spaceport.

Several soldiers met them at the shuttle. Marlid took the Captain off to one side and spoke with him quietly for several minutes. He seemed satisfied.

They set off on foot for the castle, Marlid and Yahveen on either side of Doug, and Ronat following behind. Shan-ji and Rangar followed after Ronat. Several soldiers accompanied them, carrying lanterns on poles above their heads to light their way. The few people they saw along the way carried lanterns or candles. They hastily knelt and bowed their heads until Doug’s entourage passed. Doug heard several people remark about him.

“He’s just a little slip of a boy,” one woman said.

“Such a skinny little thing,” a man said. “I could break him with my bare hands.”

“What manner of strange creature is that, I wonder?” They were referring to Rangar.

“They must have been out of their minds, picking that for the new Modrain,” said another.

Doug looked at Yahveen and Marlid. They appeared not to hear. Then Yahveen said,

“It’s a good thing we got back in the night. Rumors spread slower then.”

Marlid nodded. They took Doug to a bedroom on the third floor of the castle. He was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow. In repose his face looked somewhat boyish, the dark hollows and sunken cheeks accentuating his gaunt frame. The heavy gold and stone bracelet on one wrist seemed almost too heavy for him to bear.

“He looks so young and vulnerable,” Yahveen mused. “I almost wonder if we’ve done the right thing.”

“The Yeoman of Chaos is anything but vulnerable. If anything is vulnerable here it is Modraya,” Marlid remarked sharply. He looked around the room.

“I wonder how much our world will have changed in a year because of him? I suspect in five years we won’t know the place.” He shook his head dubiously.

“We’ve cast our lot with him. Now we must hope for the best.” He gently tucked the covers around Doug’s somnolent form.

“Sleep well, My Lord Modrain,” he said softly.

They tiptoed from the room. Yahveen locked the door behind them. He gave the key to a guard.

“Watch over the Modrain, and see that he is not disturbed until he wakes. When he does, notify me at once.”

“Yes, My Lord Castellan.” The man bowed deeply.

Doug slept late the next morning. Sunlight was streaming in the windows when he finally rose to face the day. He walked over to the window and looked out. In the distance he could see hills, covered with green.

Directly below him was a courtyard, enclosed on three sides by the castle. Its far side was bounded by a high wall pierced by a broad, heavy gate of wood and iron. In one corner was a fountain, made up to look like a pond of water lilies, its water sparkling merrily and making rainbows that danced in the sunlight. As he watched he noted that the flowers gradually filled with water, then emptied to splash down over the leaves. A couple of gray stone benches stood near the fountain. His heart leapt. At least there was one corner of Modraya where he would feel welcome. He stood looking out for some time. He heard the key turn in the lock, and he turned to see Yahveen enter. The Castellan joined him at the window. He noted the look of pleasure on Doug’s face.

“Do you like it?”

Doug nodded.

“It has been there for nearly five hundred years,” Yahveen stated. “From time to time it needs repairs. But it is well worth the effort.” He noted the look of longing on Doug’s face.

“Come with me. I’ll take you to see it up close,” he urged, and led Doug through the castle to the courtyard.

Doug dallied in the courtyard for some time. Presently Marlid came, with Shan-ji and Rangar. At last Yahveen looked up at the sky.

“It’s time for lunch.”

They followed him to a dining room. A servant was just finishing setting three places at the table. Doug looked at Yahveen.

“Where are you eating?”

“We eat after you, My Lord Modrain.”

Doug shook his head.

“Not any more.” He went toward the elderly servant. The man backed away from him.

“Come here.” The man approached Doug hesitantly.

“Please set three more places. The Lord Castellan, the Chief Constable, and the Archivist are to eat with us. From now on,” he said firmly.

The man looked fearfully to Yahveen.

“Don’t look at him,” Doug said kindly but firmly. “I’m in charge now. Please do as I ask.”

After a long moment, the man nodded silently, and set three more places at the table. When he finished he scurried away in the direction of the kitchen.

Doug looked at Yahveen and Marlid. “Will you please join us for lunch? And all other meals henceforth?”

There was a long silence. Yahveen and Marlid looked at one another. Then Marlid shrugged.

“Very well, My Lord Modrain. If that is your wish,” he said resignedly.

“It is my wish,” Doug said firmly. He looked around. “Where’s Ronat?”

At that moment, the young Archivist appeared in the doorway, breathless and flushed, as if he’d been running. Doug’s heightened senses, the legacy of his meeting with the Lysaran Mind Bender, Leighton Fendahl while he was serving the Fabreetzi on Na’Chotle, took in many minute details of his clothing and manner. Ronat took in the table settings and gave a little strangled cry.

“Oh, Great Heavens! I’m late!”

Marlid strode toward him, a dark look on his face.

“No, Marlid, please! Have mercy!” Ronat cringed away from Marlid. He put up his hands as if to shield himself.

“You are late. You know the penalty.” Marlid spoke with a cold, implacable voice. He drew a wide, thick leather strap from his pocket. Something glinted metallically on the free end as Marlid wound the other end around his hand and gripped it firmly. Doug studied the free end. It was tipped with sharp metal barbs that looked as if they would easily cut flesh.

Ronat swallowed hard and looked at Marlid, raw fear in his eyes. He whimpered slightly, whereupon Marlid glared angrily at him and advanced toward him. Ronat’s eyes filled with tears. He looked away. Marlid flashed the strap once, testing it. It cracked like a whip. Ronat flinched silently. Marlid turned toward the younger man then, his face expressionless.

“Marlid, stop!” Doug cried out.

He froze, his hand upraised with the strap ready to strike Ronat. He turned to look at Doug, slowly lowering his hand.

“What is this about?”

“He is late, My Lord. That is irresponsible, and unacceptable,” Marlid said simply, his voice cold and empty of emotion.

“So?” Doug prompted.

“As Chief Constable it is my duty to punish him.”

Doug choked on his breath.

“What is the penalty for being late?” Doug asked when he could speak again.

“Ten lashes.”

Doug felt ill as he stared at the leather strap with its wicked end.

“Oh, Great Heavens.” He looked away for a moment and swallowed hard.

“You would do that to him?” he asked at last.

“It is my duty,” Marlid replied tonelessly.

“It’s a beautiful day. He’s been out picking flowers, for heaven’s sake,” Doug exclaimed in exasperation.

Ronat looked at him in surprise.

“Don’t you have any feeling for him?”

Marlid looked at Doug.

“I love Ronat like a brother. But I would do my duty. Otherwise I would be punished twice over,” he said stolidly.

Doug turned away for a few moments. At last he looked at the two of them. He felt decidedly sick to his stomach. When it settled down he turned and looked Marlid in the eyes.

“Marlid, I hereby forbid you to punish anyone for any reason without my expressed consent. Henceforward, if there are any violations of the rules, you will bring the miscreants before me and I will determine their punishment. I will have no more of this.”

He took the strap from him, holding it gingerly away from himself as if it were a venomous snake.

Marlid studied him keenly.

“Do you truly mean that, My Lord Modrain?” he asked at last.

“Absolutely! Every word of it, Marlid. Every. Word,” he said emphatically. To Doug’s great surprise, Marlid knelt before him, his hands clasped tightly before him.

“Thank you, My Lord Modrain. Thank you, thank you!” he said fervently.

Doug was too astonished to move for a moment. Then he took Marlid’s hand and hauled him up onto his feet.

“You’re welcome. I think.” He wasn’t at all sure what he’d just done, but they could sort it all out later. Right now, he was getting hungry.

“How did you know I’d been picking flowers, My Lord?” Ronat asked curiously.

Doug smiled at him.

“You have pollen on your pants legs, and the cuffs of your shirt.”

Ronat blushed.

“I was at the cemetery, My Lord.”

“The cemetery? Why?”

“My father’s grave is there, as well as my sister and my brother.”

“I’m sorry,” Doug said gently. “How did they die?”

“My father died of old age.” Ronat looked at the floor.

“And your sister?” Doug asked gently.

“She was beaten to death, My Lord.” Ronat spoke softly, still looking down.

Doug winced.

“I’m sorry. What happened to your brother?” he asked after a moment’s hesitation.

Ronat looked up at him then. His dark eyes were twin pools of misery.

“I killed him,” Ronat said quietly.

Doug felt a shock like lightning course through him, followed by a wave of nausea. Gentle, kind Ronat, a murderer? Instinct said there had to be more to it.

“Why did you kill him, Ronat?” Doug asked when he could speak again.

“He broke his word to our father. He swore to Father on his deathbed that he would never sell Amina or force her to go with someone against her will. But Bayard was a gambler, and he was a loser. He got into big trouble with his gambling, and the man offered to write off his debts in exchange for our sister. Mother and I begged him not to do it. He had a reputation for cruelty. But Bayard was the oldest son, and after Father died he was in charge. He sold Amina to that man. She died six months later. He beat her to death.” His voice broke, and he sobbed a few times.

“So I killed Bayard. After I beat him.”

Doug put his arm gently around Ronat’s shoulder and drew him close. He wept hotly then. At last his sobs faded to the occasional hiccup. Suddenly he realized where he was. He stepped back and knelt before Doug.

“Oh, my Lord, forgive me. This is not seemly.”

Doug took his hand and hauled him to his feet. He reached out and brushed away a tear from Ronat’s face.

“I hope the day never comes when I cannot comfort my friends when they are in pain. It would be a sad day indeed.” He looked at Ronat for a long moment.

“I forgive you. I’ll even write you a pardon if you want. I probably would have done the same thing in your place. I probably would have killed the man as well.” He smiled weakly.

“Shall we have some lunch, then?”

Although he was very hungry, it was some time before Doug’s stomach settled enough that he could eat much of anything.

After lunch Marlid took leave of them.

“I have some urgent jail business to attend to.”

Yahveen took Doug, Shan-ji and Rangar on a tour of the castle.

“Tomorrow is Market Day,” he remarked casually.

Doug looked at him keenly.

“What sort of things will there be for sale?”

Yahveen looked at him coolly.

“Everything,” he said simply. His implication was clear. “Do you wish to go?”

Doug nodded.

“Please get me up early. I don’t want to miss anything,” he said grimly.

The Castellan hesitated.

“Let me guess. It is forbidden to wake the Modrain.”

Yahveen nodded.

“I hereby rescind that rule. If I don’t want to be disturbed, I’ll tell you. If I ask you to wake me, please do so.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Yahveen replied, bowing deeply.

That evening at supper it was Marlid who came hurrying in late. He glanced at the others, and at Doug. He knelt before Doug quickly and bowed low.

“Please forgive me, My Lord. I am late.”

Doug looked at him, somewhat exasperated.

“Marlid,” he said sharply, reaching down and taking him by the shoulder, “Get up off the floor.”

Marlid scrambled to his feet quickly.

“I’m sure you have a good reason for being late, which you will no doubt tell me. Later. After we eat. When we are alone,” he said pointedly.

Marlid looked at him incredulously.

“You are not angry, My Lord Modrain?”

Doug shook his head.

“Not angry. Concerned. Curious. Hungry. But not angry.” He glanced at Yahveen and Ronat. By the looks on their faces they were assimilating this with difficulty. He sighed.

“What does a person do around here to get a meal put on the table?”

Yahveen signaled to a servant, and the meal was served presently.

After they ate, Marlid took Doug to the office of the Modrain. It was a large room, its wood paneled walls dark and gloomy. It was lit with candles set in sconces on the wall, and their flames seemed to fade away to nothing in between the candles. There was a fireplace at one end of the room, and the fire in the grate gave a cheery if ineffectual glow that struggled weakly against the chilly darkness of the room. Doug strode over to it and extended his hands to the feeble warmth.

“You are cold, My Lord?”

Doug glanced at him.

“A little, Marlid. It is a good deal cooler here than Fabree’s Planet or Na’Chotle.” He shivered slightly and shrugged. “I expect I will get used to it in time.”

He turned back to the fire. He heard Marlid move behind him, but he did not glance back. Then Marlid put his cloak around Doug’s shoulders.

“You did not have to do that,” Doug said.

Marlid shrugged.

“You are cold. I am not.”

“Thank you,” Doug said simply. He tugged the cloak close around him.

“I’m sorry I was late this evening,” Marlid said hesitantly.

“I’m sure you had a good reason.”

“I was meeting with the jailers. I told them to search for Darek’s companion.”

Doug looked at him. Darek was the Gallarian Gnome who had given Marlid the Rose of Gallaria, a carved ruby stolen from Gallaria, when he lay dying on Modraya. Marlid had kept it safe and eventually returned it to the Gallarian Gnomes, earning their grudging trust and respect.

“Do you think they will find him?”

Marlid shook his head slowly.

“I doubt it. If an Elf were interned in a jail on Modraya, I doubt he would live long. They are dark, damp holes, My Lord. But they may have word of him. Many people pass through Modraya’s jails, for one reason or another. I took the liberty of telling them there was a reward.” He sounded uncertain.

“That’s fine, Marlid. Do whatever it takes.” Doug gave him a long look. “Just don’t beat anyone.”

The Chief Constable smiled slightly.

They were silent for a time. Doug looked around the office. Besides the enormous ornately carved wooden desk there was a chair, equally enormous and ornate. Three straight chairs faced the desk. The floor was of smooth gray stone, and cold as a crypt. He studied the ceiling far above them.

“Do you like it?” Marlid asked, gesturing around the room.

Doug shook his head.

“No. It’s cold and dark and harsh. Very forbidding. But it suits the official. And if I’m not mistaken there are some rugs in one of the storerooms that should help make it more comfortable.”

An hour later, with the help of a couple of the palace guards, the room had been transformed. Doug surveyed the results with satisfaction.

“Much better,” he said at last.

Marlid nodded agreement.

The New Modrain

Chapter 2

The next morning Yahveen shook Doug’s shoulder gently. “Time to get up, My Lord Modrain,” he said softly.

Doug rolled over on his back and groaned.

“No, please, I didn’t do it, hones’,” he muttered groggily.

Yahveen smiled. He nudged Doug’s shoulder again.

“Wake up, My Lord. You said you wanted to go to Market.”

At last Doug woke.

When they were ready to go, Marlid surveyed the party critically. Shan-ji and Rangar had elected to come as well.

“Be especially careful, you two. Stick close to the rest of us. It shames me to admit it, but what the Gnome Prince Arghis said is true. The Modrayi have very little experience of other people, and what they do not understand they fear and try to destroy.” He turned to the Captain of the Guard.

“Assign two of your men to stay with them and protect them at all times. They may be Crystal Matrix knights, but this is Modraya.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

They set out at last. Doug and Shan-ji in their scarlet Knight’s garb made a sharp contrast to the black-garbed Modrayi, and Rangar was sure to draw attention with his alien form and features. He was in all likelihood the first Fabreetzan ever to set foot on Modrayan soil. Many comments were made about him, and the slender youth who was apparently the new Modrain, as they strolled through the city on their way to the Marketplace, traditionally held on the open plain on the outskirts of the town.

The Marketplace was a colorful sight. In addition to all manner of fruits and vegetables, there were animals of every description, and booths selling prepared foods. Ronat bought a sweet roll and gave it to Doug.

He tasted it carefully. He had no desire for a repeat of the kind of food poisoning that had nearly killed him in the jail on Na’Chotle.

“It’s delicious! Thank you, Ronat,” he said, and ate it as they wandered along the marketplace.

There were merchants selling cloth, pottery, fine metalwork, and crafts. There were artisans of all sorts. A fancifully crafted star at a shop that sold stained glass work caught Doug’s eye. It was done in white and gold with flashes of red, blue and violet.

When Doug held it up, it caught the sunlight and sent it forth again in a dazzling display of color. He studied it longingly for a long moment. At last he handed it back to the artisan.

“It’s very beautiful. You do excellent work.” The man beamed.

“Thank you, My Lord.” They moved on. Doug did not notice when Marlid slipped away for a time.

They were watching the cattle being auctioned when Doug saw a man being led onto the auction floor. He was sturdy and muscular, and his bronzed skin spoke of much outdoor work. As he turned around, they could see some scars on his back, evidence of past mistreatment. Doug watched in sickening horror as the man was sold to another.

As if he sensed Doug’s eyes on him, the man turned and looked his way. Their eyes met briefly, and Doug looked away, shamefaced. When he looked back, the man was gone, and another had taken his place. Shan-ji looked at him.

“Can you go on, Dou-Gai-Han?” he asked gently. Doug closed his eyes for a minute.

“Yes, Master,” he whispered at last. They made their way through the rest of the Market slowly. At last they turned toward the castle.

They were coming to the end of the street when there was a disturbance ahead of them. A large, burly man was walking down the street. He was dragging a woman by a coarse, rough rope tied around her neck. Her hands were tightly bound in front of her with rope, and despite the cool morning she was rather scantily clad. In fact she appeared to be dressed in two strips of dirty, ragged cloth knotted rather inexpertly around her, one at the chest, the other at her waist.

As Doug and the others watched, a man approached the pair. He spoke briefly with the man. Then he reached toward the woman. She backed away from him. He cursed and seized the rope, dragging her to him. He lifted the cloth covering her breasts, and she kicked him in the shins. He cursed and bent her over his leg, administering several sharp smacks to her backside. She cried out, cursing him loudly. He set her on her feet then, and said something to the man holding her rope as he walked away. The man grinned, apparently amused.

The woman turned to her captor, cursing him loudly as he dragged her along the street toward the group. There was a rapid exchange between them in Modrayan that Doug couldn’t quite follow. She stopped suddenly.

The man sneered at her and jerked hard on the rope. She fell to the ground. The man kicked her in the side, causing her to cry out.

“Get up, wench, or I’ll sell you as you lay.”

She cursed at him, and as she made to rise he kicked at her in the ribs again, knocking her to the ground. She cried out in pain, and he drew back his boot as if to kick her again. Doug stepped between them.

“Stop it!” he said angrily. The man looked at him in surprise and said something rapidly.

Doug looked at Marlid. Beside him Doug noted Ronat staring at the man, a look of pure hatred on his face.

“What did he say? What is going on here?” Doug asked sharply.

Marlid gave the man a cold look.

“He asked if you wanted to buy her. She was his Zdujina,” Marlid said.

At Doug’s blank look, he hesitated, searching for the right word.

“His pillow-slave. Concubine.”

Doug felt a wave of revulsion wash over him. He looked away for a minute.

“She was pregnant with his child and had a miscarriage. So he is going to sell her in the Market today.”

Doug looked down at the woman. Her hands had been bound very tightly, and the rope was flecked with dried blood where it was biting into her wrists. Her neck was raw where the coarse rope had rubbed as he had dragged her along. Her face was somewhat dirty from where she had fallen, and he could see the evidence of old bruises on her delicate features. Her eyes blazed angrily. She was an attractive woman, slender and well made, and she looked rather young.

“What will happen to her?” Marlid shrugged.

“Someone will buy her. Either for a Zdujina, or to work in their house or fields.”

Doug watched as she struggled to get to her feet. The man laughed cruelly and jerked very hard on the rope, pulling her off balance so that she fell down again at Doug’s feet.

She looked up at him; her eyes caught his, and the depth of the misery he read in them made up his mind in an instant.

“How much does he want for her?” Doug asked suddenly.

Marlid looked at him in surprise. Then he turned to the man, and they haggled for a few minutes. He told Doug a sum.

“Is that reasonable?”

“Yes, it is a fair price. I told him the bruises detracted from her value, and he accepted what I offered him.”

“Give it to him,” Doug commanded instantly.

Marlid’s eyebrows rose slightly. He did as Doug said. When Marlid had paid him, the man handed Doug the rope. The woman looked at Doug with fire in her eyes and cursed at him.

That he did understand. He stood looking silently at her. But before he could say or do anything, the man turned back to her. He said something rapidly in Modrayan and hit her full across the face. She cried out with pain and fell to the ground. When she looked up again Doug could see that her lip was bleeding. The man grinned.

“Some women you just gotta smack a few times before they’ll behave,” he said very smugly.

Out of the corner of his eye Doug saw a flash of movement. Then the heavy hilt of Ronat’s dagger slammed into the side of the man’s head. He fell to the ground. Ronat raised his hand again. This time the point of the long blade was aimed straight at the man’s heart.

“Prepare to meet your doom, Garlock, you foul fiend!” he said, his voice as cold as Death itself. The dagger began to descend.

“Ronat! No!” Doug cried.

There was a strange look in the young Modrayan’s eyes as he turned to face Doug.

“Please, My Lord, please!” Ronat begged. It would give me great pleasure,” he said intensely.

Doug understood immediately. This was the man who was responsible for his sister’s death. He shook his head slowly as he held out his hand toward the young Modrayan Lord.

“No, Ronat. Not that way. Please. Give me your dagger.”

The man was looking up at them both, terror in his eyes. Ronat looked at the man with an expression of extreme hatred and disgust. He looked pleadingly at Marlid, who glanced pointedly at Doug and shook his head slightly.

“No, Ronat. Don’t forget yourself,” Marlid said warningly.

Ronat looked from him to Doug, and then at Garlock, cringing at his feet, shaking with fear.

“You filthy scum! You don’t deserve to live among decent people!” the Archivist spat out at last.

The man flinched and tried to scuttle away. Marlid blocked his path.

Finally Ronat reluctantly handed Doug his dagger.

Doug glanced at the Chief Constable.

“Marlid, arrest that man and throw him in jail. I’ll deal with him later.”

“Yes, My Lord. It will be my great pleasure,” Marlid said with alacrity. He was grinning broadly, as if Doug had given him a very special treat. From some concealed pocket in his clothing he produced a pair of manacles with which he bound the man’s wrists. He motioned to two soldiers, and they hauled him up from the ground, none too gently, and took him away. A small crowd had begun to gather around them.

Doug inspected the dagger.

“This is very sharp,” he commented. He tried the tip on the end of the rope in his hand. It sliced the rope neatly in two with very little effort. He looked at the woman then. She shrank from him. He reached down and carefully helped her to her feet.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Sophia.” She looked at him curiously.

He returned her gaze placidly.

“What are you going to do with me?” she asked timidly.

“I haven’t got the slightest idea, my dear,” Doug said calmly. He brought the tip of the dagger to her neck. Her eyes grew very wide. There was a gasp from the crowd that had begun to gather around them. He smiled then, and deftly sliced the rope from around her neck. She shivered slightly. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed her state of dress.

“Ronat?”

“Yes, My Lord?”

“Will you lend this lady your cloak? She is cold.”

“Certainly, My Lord!” He wrapped his cloak around her.

Doug turned his attention to her wrists. He carefully sliced through her bonds. They had been tied so tightly that they had cut into her skin and drawn blood. It looked as if the rope had been there for a few days; the cuts were beginning to get infected. Sophia flinched as he removed the rope.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “That must really hurt.”

She looked at him in astonishment. She looked around, noticing Rangar and Shan-ji for the first time. She looked at Yahveen, Ronat and Marlid in turn. Then she turned to face Doug.

“Who are you?” she demanded at last.

Doug smiled.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On what planet I’m on.” He looked at her wrists again and shook his head in dismay.

“Hold still, please,” he said quietly. He placed his hands over her wrists and closed his eyes. Presently a soft golden glow appeared on his hands. As they watched, it spread around her wrists. At last he drew back his hands. The golden glow lingered on her arms for several moments. Then it faded, and as they watched the cuts began to heal very rapidly.

“Dou-Gai-Han,” Shan-ji remonstrated.

Doug looked at him.

“I’m okay, Master. I’ll be all right.”

He looked around. They’d attracted quite a crowd. Many people were muttering and murmuring about what he’d just done. He sighed.

“Who are you?” Sophia demanded once more, her voice tinged with awe.

Ronat looked at her pityingly. He bowed to her politely.

“Sophia, meet Prince Dou-Gai-Han Chang-Tsi-Yar of Malledore. Our new Lord Modrain.”

He spoke clearly, and loudly enough that many in the crowd could hear him. They became silent. Sophia’s face lost all its color.

“The n-new L-Lord M-Modrain?” she stammered, looking at Doug. He nodded slowly. “Oh, Great Heavens!” she gasped, and fainted dead away.

He caught her as she fell, and gently wrapped Ronat’s cloak around her. Rangar picked her up carefully in his arms and they set out for the castle.

“What are you going to do with her, My Lord?” Marlid asked as they walked. Doug looked at him and shrugged his shoulders.

“I really haven’t got the faintest idea, Marlid.”

The Chief Constable looked surprised.

“Why did you want to buy her, then?” he asked after a moment. He sounded puzzled.

Doug stopped and turned to look at him.

“I could not stand by and watch him hurting her.” His voice carried clearly to the people around them. “I won’t tolerate that kind of cruelty,” he said angrily. “And I mean to put an end to it, if I have to rip all Modraya from the foundations and start from the ground up.”

Marlid looked at him steadily.

“If you don’t like it, tell me now and we’ll leave tomorrow. Because if I stay, things will change.”

Marlid gazed into Doug’s eyes for a long moment.

“I like it, My Lord Modrain. I like it a lot. I can not begin to tell you how much I like it,” he said, in a clear, calm voice that carried to the small crowd that had begun to accompany them.

Doug looked into his eyes and gently probed his mind with his Knight’s skills, and he saw that Marlid was completely and utterly sincere.

“I believe you really mean that,” he said at last. He spoke quietly so as not to be overheard.

Marlid looked at him silently for a long moment.

“Can you possibly have overlooked the fact that I have a family too, My Lord? I have sisters, My Lord Modrain. I have sisters too.”

Doug was moved by the depth of feeling those simple words conveyed.

“Curse me for the blind fool I am, Marlid,” Doug said softly. “I apologize. Please forgive me.” He bowed deeply to Marlid then.

Marlid shook his head.

“You could not have known. You’ve only been here one day,” he said soothingly.

“Is that all?” Doug said. “It feels like a lot longer.”

They continued on to the castle.

Sophia regained consciousness at last. She was in a bed in a small chamber off of Doug’s room. She thought she heard voices somewhere nearby. The rags Garlock had dressed her in were nowhere to be seen. She moved slightly, and there was a slight “clunk” sound. The voices stopped. Doug came to her side, stooping to pick up a short squat cylinder that collapsed to a thin wafer in his hands before he slipped it into a pocket. He looked down at her. He’d thought her eyes were blue, but he realized they were a deep shade of lavender. She looked up into his deep coffee brown eyes and licked her dry lips. She showed no sign of recognizing him.

“Where am I?” Her voice was dry and raspy. There was a chair nearby, and he pulled it over and sat down.

“It appears you’re in a bed,” he said with a wry smile. He reached over to a table and poured a cup of water.

She sat up slowly, wrapping herself in the sheet, and he handed her the cup.

“Thank you,” she said politely. Despite her obvious thirst she drank slowly.

Doug studied her carefully. When she’d emptied the cup he refilled it and gave it back to her.

“How old are you, Sophia?” he asked at last.

“Seventeen, Sir. Next month.”

Doug’s stomach turned over.

“How long were you with…that man?” he asked at last.

“Garlock?”

“Is that his name?” Doug said sourly. She nodded.

“Two years.”

Doug covered his face with his hands. She looked at him.

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounded anxious.

“No, Sophia. You didn’t say anything wrong.”

“Are you ill, Sir?” she asked.

“No. But I think I’m going to be.” He looked away.

She reached out and touched his knee gently.

“Here, Sir. Have some water.”

She held out the cup to him, and he noticed her hand was trembling. He took the cup and set it down on the table.

“Sophia, when did you last eat something?” She reflected.

“Day before yesterday. I think. Is today still Market Day?”

He nodded.

“Day before yesterday.”

“How did you get to the Market?”

“We walked.”

“How far?”

“Not far. About ten miles.” Doug turned to the doorway.

“Master Shan-ji!” he yelled. Shan-ji and Rangar came running. Sophia gasped and shrank back when she saw the Fabreetzan. Doug took no notice.

“What is wrong, Dou-Gai-Han?”

Doug pointed to Sophia.

“This…child…has not eaten in two days. Would you get me some Mirhazh, and ask Yahveen to send up some broth or something?”

Shan-ji nodded, and they left. A few moments later Rangar handed Doug a flask and left again. Doug poured some Mirhazh into a cup and handed it to her.

“Drink it. It’s good for you,” he said gently.

“Yes, Sir.” She obediently began to drink.

“Do you have any family, child?” Doug asked then.

“I have two brothers, and my mother.”

“Where are they?” She shrugged.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen them since Garlock came for me.” She sounded wistful.

“Why would anybody sell a child to a man like Garlock?”

“He needed an heir to carry on his line. He promised my brothers that if I bore him a son he would make me his wife.”

Doug was appalled. A wave of nausea washed over him.

“And they needed the money to start their business.” She looked at Doug. “Are you all right, Sir? You look awfully pale.”

“I think I’m going to be ill,” he said with difficulty.

She reached over to the table and handed him the basin with trembling hands. He took it from her and turned away and was presently violently ill.

“Oh, Sir, I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” Sophia sounded contrite and a little frightened.

Doug shook his head slowly. When he could speak again he looked at her.

“No, child, you’ve done nothing wrong. Don’t be afraid. No-one will harm you here.”

“Where is here?” she asked, taking in her surroundings, the heavy curtains at the windows and the rich, thick rugs on the floor.

“You’re in the palace of the Modrain, Sophia.”

Her eyes got very wide, and she drew back from him.

“Don’t worry. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. No one will hurt you, I promise.”

A servant arrived with a tray. Doug took it from the man and thanked him. The man looked at him in awe and backed away slowly. Doug took the tray to Sophia.

“Eat, Sophia, please.”

He sat down again and watched her. Marlid came in after a short time.

“Are you all right, My Lord?”

Doug nodded.

“Rangar told me you’d been ill.”

Doug nodded again.

“I should have sent for you first, Lord Marlid,” Doug said pensively. “I find I do not have much stomach for interrogating children.” He waved at Sophia. “Especially children not quite seventeen who’ve been the property of a person like Garlock for two years.” He stood a bit unsteadily. Marlid took his arm gently.

“Remind me to make it a crime to starve people,” he said. His voice shook with anger.

“Yes, My Lord Modrain.”

Sophia looked at Doug. Her eyes got very big.

“You are the new Lord Modrain?” she asked in a small voice.

Doug nodded. She looked down at the floor.

“I’m a dead woman,” she said quietly. Doug looked at Marlid questioningly.

“It is forbidden for a woman to touch or speak to the Lord Modrain except to serve him,” Marlid explained. It was very plain to Doug just what kind of service was entailed.

“What is the penalty for breaking this rule?” Doug thought he knew.

“The penalty is death,” Marlid said calmly. His hand rested on the heavy hilt of his dagger. “It is the duty of the Chief Constable to carry out the sentence.”

Doug looked at them both for a long time. Then he reached down and took Sophia’s chin in his hand and turned her face to his.

“Look at me, Sophia.” There were tears in her lavender eyes. He reached up with his other hand and wiped them gently away.

“Consider the rule abolished, as of this instant. And the penalty is abolished as well.” He smiled. “You may look at me all you like. If I am bothered by it, I will say so. I rather like lavender, actually.”

She smiled faintly. He pointed to the tray.

“Now, you eat that. Lord Marlid and I have some plans to make.”

Doug leaned back in the ornately carved chair and looked at the ceiling of his office.

“What fascinates you so about that ceiling?” Marlid asked.

Doug glanced at him, and held his tongue. It was obvious to him that at one time the room had been larger. The pattern of the ceiling was interrupted slightly on one side, and the decorative molding had been carved by a different hand. The candle sconces along that side were subtly different from the other three walls, as well.

“I guess I keep expecting to find electric lights up there,” he said at last. He turned to their work. “How soon can these be put into effect?”

“It will take three to four days to get the notices to every corner of Modraya.”

Doug grimaced.

“Is that not soon enough, My Lord?”

“Not soon enough for some. Too soon for others, I expect,” Doug sighed. “I suppose we’d better have it take effect on some recognizable date.”

“How about sunrise on Market Day? Market Days are always the same day of the week, all over Modraya. That will be in six days. Plenty of time for the word to get out.”

“Yes, I suppose that will have to do.”

They were preparing the first edicts Doug would issue. They prohibited anyone from beating a slave or a woman, and forbade starving them as well. Finally, it decreed that they were to be clothed appropriately for the weather.

“Have I forgotten anything, Marlid?” Doug asked him at last.

“Penalties?”

“The wrath of the Modrain?” Doug suggested.

Marlid considered this.

“It could work,” he said at last. “It could work very well indeed. Though you may find yourself swamped with cases.”

“Let’s hope not. I could always be very harsh on the first offenders and scare the rest into compliance.” He put his elbows on the desk and rested his forehead on his hands. Marlid looked at him for a long moment.

“Yahveen was right about you,” he said at last.

“How’s that?”

“The first day he met you he told us you were no pushover. That you were a great deal tougher than you appeared.”

Doug blushed at the memory.

“Did he tell you what happened?”

“Yes.”

Doug’s blush deepened as he recalled the conversation. He’d convinced Yahveen rather forcibly that he was no weakling, and no pushover. In doing so, he’d injured the Castellan slightly, and he’d felt compelled to heal his injury. That had impressed Yahveen even more.

“Yahveen’s a good man,” Doug said. “He deserves some happiness.” He’d found out that Yahveen had a girlfriend, and that they wanted to marry, but her parents were opposed to the match.

“Are you going to change the marriage laws next, My Lord?”

“Not yet. But I’m going to work on his girlfriend’s parents very soon.” He looked at Marlid closely.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a woman in the woodwork somewhere, would you, Marlid?”

“Not really, My Lord.” Marlid was blushing.

“What do you mean by that?”

Marlid squirmed slightly.

“You’d better tell me. I’ll probe if I have to,” Doug bluffed. “Or I’ll get Master Shan-ji to do it.” The ability of Crystal Matrix Knights to sieve through the minds of others was a legendary mind trick. Few could resist the probing, and those who tried usually suffered a severe headache for their efforts.

Marlid sighed resignedly.

“Very well. If you must know, My Lord, I find Sophia very attractive. She is strong and brave and full of fire. But she’s hardly more than a child. She would never look favorably on an old man like me. I’m old enough to be her father.”

“Garlock looks old enough to be her grandfather,” Doug said grimly.

“That swine,” Marlid said viciously.

Doug looked askance at him.

“Why do you say that?”

“The only reason he needs an heir to carry on his line is because he spends his time with boys.”

It took a few moments for the full meaning of his words to sink in.

“Oh, Great Heavens,” Doug said as his stomach rebelled anew. He buried his face in his hands and gagged.

Marlid rose and opened a window quickly. He led Doug to it, and he breathed deeply. Gradually the queasiness subsided.

“I’m sorry, My Lord. I thought you knew. That’s why he hates women.”

Doug shook his head.

“Curse me for the blind fool I am, Marlid.”

“Twice in one day? No, I decline, My Lord. Do they not have such men where you come from?”

Doug nodded slowly.

“Yes. But they go about their business, and do not trouble women.” He sighed at last. “Let’s get finished here. I have a strong desire to sit by the fountain and watch the water run for a while.”

“I’ll join you, if I may?”

Doug nodded. They stopped at his room when they were done so Doug could put some things away. He walked into the room and stopped in his tracks. The room had been cleaned, the bed was made, and every surface was spotless. Doug looked at Marlid.

“Sophia!” he called out.

Barely a moment later she emerged from the side chamber. She was wearing a clean dress, a few sizes too large, and she’d had a bath. Doug studied her. She was a rather attractive woman, even with the bruises that showed on her tender skin. Her hair was dark brown, and it hung sleek and smooth past her waist. The contrast with her pale skin and lavender eyes was rather striking. Marlid gave a barely perceptible groan as she approached.

“Yes, My Lord?” She was looking at the floor.

“Look at me, Sophia. Please.”

She looked timidly up at him.

“Thank you. That’s better.” He glanced around. “It looks like you’ve been working very hard.”

She nodded shyly.

“Are you pleased, My Lord?”

Doug looked at her uncertainly.

“It looks very nice,” he said at last.

She looked puzzled, and a little frightened. Marlid coughed loudly.

“May I have a word with you, My Lord?”

“Yes, Marlid, what is it?”

Marlid motioned to Sophia, and she went back into the other room.

“Let me give you some advice. Tell her you are pleased by what she has done. As your Zdujina, it is her job to serve you and please you, in everything she does, in or out of your bed. If she does not, her life is forfeit.”

Doug paled.

“I don’t want a Zdujina. A concubine,” he said irritably. “Can’t we find her a room somewhere else in the castle?”

Marlid shook his head quickly.

“People would assume she was there to be used. In the worst way.” Doug groaned as he understood Marlid’s meaning.

“What will I do?” he asked. Marlid shrugged.

“Tell her that what she has done pleases you. Let her please you in whatever way. In or out of your bed.”

Doug sighed in exasperation.

“I don’t need a woman in my bed!”

Marlid looked at him strangely.

“Do you not like women, My Lord?” he asked after a long moment. Doug suddenly realized what he was thinking.

“It’s not like that, Marlid,” he said hastily, his hands gesturing defensively. “I’m already betrothed. To a vision I can’t shake. To a dream I cannot forget. To the Queen of Heaven.”

“Oh.” Marlid frowned slightly. “That complicates things.” He was silent for a moment.

“Well, you’d better at least tell her you’re pleased with what she did. It’s best not to leave people upset too long.”

“Sophia?” Doug called out.

She came out of the side room.

“Yes, My Lord?” She looked at him hopefully.

“Come here, please.”

She came and stood in front of him, looking at the floor. He touched her shoulder.

“Look at me, Sophia.”

She looked up then.

“I see you cleaned the room, and straightened things. It pleases me, Sophia. It pleases me very much. Thank you.”

She searched his eyes, and smiled brightly.

“You are welcome, My Lord Modrain. You are very welcome.”

“Would you like to come with us, Sophia? We’re going out to the courtyard for a little while.”

She nodded, and turned to gather a wrap. Doug watched as Marlid’s eyes followed her every movement.

Finally they were in the corridor. Sophia followed several steps behind them. After several yards, Doug stopped.

“This isn’t right.” He looked at Marlid and Sophia. Then he took her gently by the arm.

“Walk beside me,” he said, placing her between him and Marlid.

She looked almost frightened. Marlid smiled at her.

“Best do what he says.” Marlid made a little gesture indicating insanity. “He is the Modrain.” They walked out to the courtyard together.

Doug sat on one bench, his knees drawn up, watching the water and thinking about the day. Only two days on Modraya, he mused, and so much had happened. He’d had a man arrested and bought a woman slave, prepared edicts against abusing slaves and women, and decreed that the cabinet ministers sit down to eat meals with him. He’d learned things about Ronat and Marlid that surprised him greatly. He’d prohibited Marlid from administering any more punishment. What more could possibly happen?

He’d reckoned without supper.

They walked into the dining room as the elderly servant was setting the table. Sophia stopped short. She looked frightened. Marlid took her by one arm. She struggled against him momentarily, her eyes appealing mutely to Doug. He touched her shoulder reassuringly.

“Stay here,” Doug said, seeing her fright. He went to the servant who was setting the table.

“Please set another place at the table.”

The man looked at Sophia, then at him.

“Woman servants eat in the kitchen. After the men,” he said pointedly.

“No wonder they’re so skinny,” Doug said jokingly. No one laughed. He looked at the man challengingly. “I say she’s eating with us,” Doug said firmly.

Apparently this was more change than the elderly manservant could assimilate in less than two days. He shook his head mutely.

Doug took a couple of steps toward him, and he turned and fled in the direction of the kitchen. Doug looked at the others. Yahveen sighed and followed the man. Doug quietly found china and silver and set another place.

Yahveen returned presently with a younger man. He seemed rather nervous and ill at ease.

“Vontor, this is the new Lord Modrain,” Yahveen said, gesturing to Doug. “You will obey him in everything and serve him faithfully. Despite what Kanish was saying, he is quite sane. Serve the new Lord Modrain well, and you will be amply rewarded. Serve him badly and you will suffer accordingly. Treat him with the utmost loyalty and respect, or you will die on my blade when Lord Marlid finishes torturing you to his satisfaction. Do you understand?”

Vontor’s eyes widened, and he trembled slightly.

“Yes, My Lord Yahveen. I understand,” he said after a long moment. He turned and knelt before Doug.

“Vontor, rise, please.” He did so slowly. He looked frightened.

Doug smiled encouragingly at him and waited a few moments, until he judged that the man had calmed down a bit.

“Where I come from, Vontor, men and women eat together. All the time. From Kings and Queens to the lowliest peasant.”

He gestured to the broad expanse of polished wood.

“This is my table. I will say who eats at it. And they will all be treated equally well and served equally graciously. Anyone who eats at my table is to be treated with the same courtesy and respect as I am. Can you understand that?”

A curious gleam came into the young man’s eyes.

“Oh, yes, My Lord Modrain.”

“Good, Vontor. Now, could you see about sending us up some supper?”

“Yes, My Lord. At once!” He left quickly.

Doug sighed and looked at Yahveen.

“What did you do to the old man?”

Yahveen looked at Doug quietly.

“I sent him out to the stables to clean out the stalls. It should keep him busy for a few days. Then I’ll think of something else if he’s still having trouble adjusting.”