Page 50 of Elvenbred

She followed his gaze. “Umm … I’m supposed ….”

The taller one broke in. “You’ll do as you’re told.”

Triana felt quite taken aback. The staff had treated her with indifference, and Nora had insulated her from any unpleasantness. The guards’ hostility alarmed her.

She bit the inside of her lip as the two guards flanked her and walked her over to the main entry where the workers went down into the ration-making room. As they passed her quarters, she saw the door open and servants carrying the bedding, and what few clothes she possessed out.

“Hey!” she said angrily, breaking formation and starting towards where servants cleared her room. “That’s my—”

She never finished the sentence. The guard on her right side shoved her hard between the shoulder blades, and she fell to her knees, tearing her trousers and scraping the palms of her hands when she thrust them out to break her fall. She glared up, furious, ready to bounce to her feet and give him a piece of her mind.

“Go for it,” the guard said in a mild voice. Triana saw the truncheon poised to strike, and realized she would never make it before they clubbed her down. She relaxed her shoulders fractionally. Her mind whirled, trying to understand the hostility. What had happened?

“Good girl,” he said

The guard behind her tapped her bottom with his truncheon. “Get up,” he said. “Do what you’re told, and only what you’re told, or you’ll get more than a shove. Understand?”

She looked back at him and nodded.

She stood, limping a bit as the torn cloth worried the deep scrapes on her knees. She hissed a bit in pain as she crossed her arms and pressed her palms against her blouse.

They escorted her into the work building, and down the Workers’ Gantry, which proved to be an open metal staircase that descended into the floor and work spaces that supported the estate’s workshops and craft houses. Both guards followed her, nudging her along with their truncheons when she lagged. They guided her down a couple of levels to a hallway. Well lit at intervals, with deep shadows in between. They sent her past workshops with ringing hammers and tools, and into a small office, no more than a few paces on the side.

A male about her height with well-muscled arms and a thick waist spoke to a trio of others. Triana was still a few paces away when he grinned, clapped one on the shoulder, and the three men departed.

Triana opened her mouth to speak. He raised a hand to forestall her. She stayed silent, while he called out to another elf, who came at a jog. The thick-waisted man leaned in, said something to the younger fellow, and sent him on his way. He then ignored her to talk to an older woman, leaving Triana, flanked by the guards, to fidget while she waited for him to notice her.

She had done exactly the same thing once upon a time, and back upon her estate, when she sought to put someone in their place. She might recognize what was going on, but she still felt the sting of it.

He deigned to notice her. She opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off. “I am Troniar Vaylan, Lord Haldeen Gatekeeper’s Master Overseer. I run all of the belowstairs operations. You will address me in my presence as ‘Sir,’ or ‘Master Overseer,’ and in no other way. If you are talking about me, you will use my title … the Overseer, or The Master Overseer. You will not use my name. Only my title. I earned it. Do you understand?”

“I think there has been a mistake … ” she started.

“The question calls for a ‘yes’ or a ‘no.’ Do you understand?”

“Look,” she said, “I need to talk to Nora.”

The Overseer tipped his head to one side. “Stupid or stubborn. Either way you are wasting my time. Waste more and I will fine you a ration. Yes. No. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she answered, through gritted teeth. She felt her anger boil. He saw it as well.

“Yes, what?” he countered.

“Yes … Master Overseer.”

He dipped his head, a nod of satisfaction. “Stubborn. Not stupid. Good, provided you can learn.”

Triana knew a rehearsed speech, having given more than a few of her own. She felt one coming.

He didn’t disappoint. “We will have one pleasant conversation. This is it. If we speak again directly, it will be because I am taking something from you. Probably food, as punishment for failing to do something required of you.”

He opened his mouth to continue. She interrupted.

“What about my things?” she said, her indignation bubbling up. “They’re taking everything I have!”

She saw his eyebrows go up. “Of all the stones! You have nothing! Everything from the clothes you wear, the food you eat, and the bed you sleep on, is the property of Lord Haldeen Gatekeeper, and loaned … loaned … to you through his generosity. Having abused that generosity, it is his prerogative to make you earn your keep.”

Her anger boiled over. “I have done nothing wrong. I have followed your stupid rules, and I have answered every question asked of me. I have withheld nothing!”