Billy Ketch Allen - Requiem for House Octavian

Copyright 2018 Billy Ketch Allen

All rights reserved.

Published by Moonglass Books

T he violin bow danced in Ressas hand. It moved across the strings as if on its own accord, knowing the next notes before she did. All she had to do was stay out of its way.

Ressa closed her eyes and disappeared into the music. Each note of the nocturne reverberated through her thin body as if it had the power to lift her off the stone ground and take her far away. It was only in these moments, lost in the middle of a song, that Ressa was free.

Enough, Lady Octavian said, the shrill voice snapping Ressa back to the room. Lady Octavian sat on a plush chair beside the window of her chambers while another Descendants slave, Marta, weaved her hair into an intricate braid. Well need something cheerful for the banquet. We dont want to put our guests to sleep. Lady Octavian frowned. You will play Lady on the Shore.

Lady on the Shore? But Ive been able to play harder songs for years.

Lady Octavian held up a finger, and Marta stepped back. The braid shed worked on unraveled into straight, red hair. Lady Octavians hair was lovely, red as the sun setting over the southern mountains. And much like those mountains, her face could have been chiseled in granite.

Are you so good now that a classic such as Lady on the Shore is beneath you?

No, my lady.

A song beloved throughout Terene for centuries is not worthy of a Descendant girls time?

Im sorry, my lady. Ill perform whatever song you wish.

You most certainly will. And if I say that you are to not attend the banquet, but are to clean the stables by hand, you will do that, too. There is not a Descendant or servant here that would not trade places with you, Ressa.

Ressa met Martas eyes and looked away.

Yes, Lady Octavian.

Ressa didnt see anything cheerful about the coming banquet. Lord Mordals visit just meant more work for everyone at the castle. Her mother and the rest of the kitchen crew were working long hours to prepare for a feast none of them would be enjoying. On top of that were the rumors circulating about the reason for the banquet.

Lord Mordal was coming to buy a Descendant.

Ressa tucked the violin under her chin and began the opening notes to Lady on the Shore, changing her mood to fit the playful song. It was one of the first songs Lady Octavian had taught her. It had been a joke at firstsee if the lowly Descendant could be taught to perform tricks for her Raw Blood masters. But Ressas competence was clear from the start. She picked up the technique quickly and had a natural ear for the music. She memorized scales overnight, playing the notes in her head while she stared up at the barracks ceiling. Soon she moved on to real songs. Ressa had taken to it like breathing. She still remembered the day she played her first song, when the practice transformed into actual music, something with emotion and a story. Ressa knew she should be thankful; Lady Octavians curiosity had given Ressa the greatest gift of her life. The ability to play music.

Ressa had believed each of those early lessons would be her last. Descendants were not taught the arts like Raw Bloods. Some people found it profane and tried to talk Lady Octavian out of her little experiment. Most thought it was a joke. Descendants couldnt learn something as complicated as an instrument.

It had taken Ressa less than a month to surpass her teachers talents.

Ressa finished the song with a flourish, embellishing the simple melody with extra notes of her own. As soon as Ressa realized what her hands were doing, she cut off the final note with a quick twist of the bow. The room was silent. Even Martas hands stood frozen mid-braid.

Ressa blew a strand of her hair out of her eyes, and it settled on the right side of her face. The side covered with an O shaped tattoo that told all the world what she was and who owned her.

Yes, Ressa, Lady Octavian said, straightening up in her chair. That will do nicely. Lord Mordal will be quite pleased, Im sure.

As if Ressa cared one bit about pleasing a pig noble Lord. Nor did she care about being on display for House Octavians guests. She would never be a musician to them, no matter how well she played. She was a novelty, a Descendant who had been trained to play an instrument. Her skill was a tribute to Lady Octavians patience, not Ressas ability.

Lady Octavian grunted, and Marta went back to braiding her hair. That will be all for today.

Yes, my lady. Ressa bowed. She went to the shelf and placed the violin carefully in its place. It was a fickle instrument, the slightest bump, and it slipped out of tune. Not that most people could tell the difference. But Ressa could. Music was one of the only things she had control over.

Ressa bowed and shuffled to the bedroom door.

Come by tomorrow after my breakfast to continue your practice, Lady Octavian called. And well see what kind of dress Sarah can find for you. We cant have you performing at the banquet in rags.

Ressa wiped her hands on her pants, flattening the wrinkled brown fabric worn by all the Descendants at the castle. Just what Ressa needed, one more thing to set her apart from the other slaves.

Ressa left Lady Octavians chambers, gently closing the door behind her. The guard stationed outside Lady Octavians door gave her a dirty look. Descendants werent usually allowed to move freely through the castle halls. Most never saw more of the castle than their workplace and the barracks. Ressa was a special case because of her lessons with Lady Octavian.

She hurried down the hall, leaping down the stairwell. The sun was almost down, and she wanted to see Tar Shen before the nights blood draw.

The rumors were true. Lord Mordal was coming to buy one of Octavians Descendants.

* * *

Ressa ran into the kitchen, bumping into Kine.

Sorry, Ressa called to the young boy. Kine was the only other Descendant around her age at House Octavian. Though, Ressa hardly ever spoke to him. Kine was a shy boy who kept to himself since he had been bought at the Temple auction earlier that year. There was a rumor that hed lived on the streets as a thief before he was arrested by the Temple guard and his blood was discovered. Ressa didnt have anything against the boy, she simply spent more time with her mother or listening to Tar Shens stories.

Kine picked up his broom without saying a word and went back to sweeping the kitchen floor, bowing his head to hide the dark O tattoo on his face.

Watch where youre going in my kitchen, you clumsy clot! a voice screamed.

Ressa turned and came face to face with Miss Paulen. The wide woman stood with her hands on her hips like a cabinet whose doors hung open and unhinged. Paulen was the kitchen matron. A Raw Blood servant, not a Descendant. A status she was sure to lord over the Descendant slaves.

Paulen snorted. Im surprised you still have the energy to run after a hard day working for Lady Octavian. What were your chores today, lessons in sipping tea?

Have you seen Tar Shen, Miss Paulen?

Probably off helping your mother. You better get used to not having her around, Ressa. I heard House Octavian is selling a Descendant.