Ch. I | The Job

I was awake far before the first sun's light. I couldn't hardly sleep even though the summer night was cooler than it had been in a long time. The crickets were singing for most of the night in that soft, soothing way. There was a promise of rain. It was omnipresent like the first chill of winter, and goodness knew that was coming far too soon. I rousted myself and adorned the clothes given to me by the guards who I would be working with in my position as the Orion's Factotum.

My dear friend Caster had arranged the meeting which still played repeatedly in my head over and over with the counsel saying that I would fulfil my obligations and accept the position despite the inherent danger. I didn't say much. I didn't need to; rather, they didn't need me to. The counsel and the guards merely snickered behind their helms and twisted their spears from side to side in the dirt like they were anxious to see what was to transpire. I was the first woman to hold the position after all. They handed me a tunic and a shift as well as undergarments not often worn by women. They told me I would need it for my work.

It was early, still dark, when I left my room and hurried down the stone streets to head to the castle and the dungeons below. They had not let me go down to the prisons before, but they did tell me where to go to begin my work. A light fog treaded alongside my feet as I traversed the unfamiliar path up the sides of the walls, down past the Low Towers, and further to The Turret.

The Turret was the prison of the city; or, rather, where I was told to go to tend to my duties. The Turret stood against sun, silhouetted perfectly as a lone tower. This column was only the entrance for the main part of the prison. The real prison was beneath the ground in the hill The Turret was placed on. It was an ominous reminder, a warning – stay away lest you take your fate into your own hands. Some of the most dangerous prisoners in the realm were kept here – or so we were told.

I approached, my shoes making the small stones under my feet crack and crunch. My heart pounded in my chest and my mind was numb with thought. I had no idea of what to expect on this first day as the Orion's Factotum. Why was this such a high turnover position? What was this Orion like? Would he kick and shout at me? Was he violent? Would he lunge at me? Most importantly, what would happen to me if the Orion got loose and managed to get his hands on me.

Was there even a plan if the Orion, Steele Veyne, managed to get his hands on me?

A shudder ran through my spine. There was every reason to worry about this now, but there was no sense in troubling myself over something I could not control. The position was mine. I needed this position. I needed to be brave. I simply had to put faith in the guards that they would protect me.

I nodded to the guards who stood solemnly by the exterior of the building. I had been introduced to them the day prior, but for the life of me I couldn't remember their names. In fact, the only thing on my mind after choking back my fear was my daughter. What was she doing this early in the morning? She had always been an early riser. Was she learning to crochet like my mother had taught me? Was she darning socks or snapping twigs for the farming family's fireplace? There was a pang of guilt in my heart as I had not told her of this new position and the potential dangers that accompanied it. I added sending a letter to the list of things to do if – when – I returned to my room.

"Oi! You!" The sound of a harsh female voice near me made my heart skip a beat. There, standing by the wooden door, were two guards I had not been acquainted with. "What's your business here?" Her voice was forceful and direct, cutting through the air like the spear in her hand. Instantly, my nerves sent my mind reeling and everything I was told to say to them had vanished like the mist around my feet. I remember stammering when the male guard leaned over and looked me dead in the eyes.

His eyes, a glossy brown, looked slightly red around the rims. They must've been on watch all night. I have never seen eyes like this. Already, he is annoyed and all because I cannot think of what I was supposed to say. Great first day. I nodded my head to jumpstart my thoughts, like knocking a piece of fruit down from the top branch.

"I… erm…" I cleared my tensing throat to at least make it look like I was putting forth the effort to answer. "I am… apologies, Sers, I am Raina. Raina Toro? I'm… um… supposed to…"

"Ahh you're the new one, aren't you? The new Factotum?" asked the man, raising up with a keen and knowing look in his eyes.

"Who now?" asked the woman, giving me a suspicious stare. I shied away from the glance immediately, keeping my eyes low and grasping the cowl on my shoulders. My fingers run over the fabric which is slightly damp from the morning mist.

"You know who. This, Izett, is the Orion's Factotum. You know, the new one?" he said with a melodic hint in his voice as if he were teasing me. I felt my limbs grow heavy and stiff while I kept my gaze averted.

"Ohhh! I remember now. They told us someone was coming, but I didn't think it would be someone like her. Skinny shift of a thing, wouldn't you say? I'm surprised they got the position filled so quickly; but, then again, it's not like they last long anyway. Come on, we're supposed to show you the ropes." Something in Izett's voice made me cringe. I was used to biting my tongue and keeping my thoughts to myself. This was also a position I needed. It was a good job. An honest job. I couldn't let a few insults get to me, but that didn't mean the other things she said weren't worrisome.

Filled the position so quickly? Caster mentioned something like that, but he wouldn't go to any lengths to put me in real danger, would he? And what was that other comment? They don't last long? The other Factotum in this position? And why…

"Are you even listening?" the man's voice sent my spiraling thoughts out of my head.

"Yes, Ser. Forgive me. My mind…"

"I don't care about that. I care about not repeating myself," he interrupted. "Really, you're going to need to pay attention to our rules if you want to make it here. Now, let's continue."

They swung open the wooden door and brought me inside the Turret. The air was clammy and cold, lit only by a few torches. The Turret itself spiraled up revealing several chambers with heavy set bars in them. The guards paid this no mind and, instead, stepped forward toward a gaping hole in the ground with a strange wooden contraption hung over it. The ropes which held it aloft creaked as did the wood as the guards stepped onto it. There was an obvious smell of damp bark and there was undoubtedly the threat of mildew and rot.

"This is the Lock. You always need to make sure you close this gate around the platform before activating the Lock. To activate, pull this lever and the weights will drop or raise. Understood? Good. Moving on." Neither of the guards gave me time to respond as they hastened their pace. I had to jog to keep up with the quickness of their steps, their leather armor creaking as they walked around the mechanism and continued to explain how I was to use it.

They opened the gate and stepped on without hesitation. I followed, nearly slipping on the slick wooden surface beneath me. They both snickered and threw the lever, plunging us down faster than I would have if I had simply fallen. A scream filled my throat but came out only as a faint whistle before they threw the lever again, making me stumble. They chuckled again.

"You're going to have a hard time of it if something like this frightens you," said Izett as she stepped off of the platform. "You haven't even seen him."

"Yes Ser," I muttered. My voice was shaking. I hoped they didn't notice. Thankfully, they didn't pay me any additional mind. They opened another large wooden door on the platform we stopped at, revealing the storeroom. Unlike most pantries with elements hanging like fruits and vegetables, cheeses and breads, everything resided in large barrels that came up to my waist.

I dared to think that if I needed to hide or employ a distraction, I could probably fit inside one of them. I also had the terrifying thought that no one would notice if I were to be closed into one of the barrels and simply given to the Orion. A wave of nausea hits me in the gut, but I clench my fists, tucking my thumb against my palm, to keep me from gagging.

"This is the storeroom. You need to pick up five barrels here and two there. The two here are water and these here are assorted food stuffs. It doesn't really matter which of these you pick. Just grab five and two. You are not responsible for putting the barrels together or filling them. You just need to grab them and deliver them. This is to be done twice a day. Understand?" asked Izett.

"I understand," I said briskly. Five? Five barrels? My heart sank into the pit forming in my stomach. One barrel would easily tide a family off for a week if rationed properly. Five? Twice a day? Izett's hand suddenly clasped my shoulder. Perhaps she knew I was feeling overwhelmed. Perhaps she saw the panic forming in my eyes. Whatever the case, what she said next didn't sooth my quickly fraying nerves.

"You know," she started slowly with a mischievous grin. "They're bigger than you think. The Orion I mean. One hand could cover you from head to toe and no one would know where you'd gone." I felt my shoulders shudder involuntarily at the words.

"Did you hear?" chimed in the male guard. "What happened to the last Factotum? Tripped and fell. It takes a second to get down to the bottom where the chains are; if you make it to the ground I mean. Orion are quicker than you think, and this one is even quicker. Excellent reflexes."

So many times, I had heard of the Orion. I heard of their mannerisms and their civilization. I heard of their immense size dwarfing towns and hearing it from them, now, was inconvenient and purposefully cruel. I needed this position. I kept telling myself who I was doing it for, even as my shoulders gave away my fear.

They both start laughing and give me a tap on the shoulder. "Just kidding. The last Factotum ran into physical restrictions," grins the man.

"Don't worry. As long as you don't get too close to the edge, you'll be alright," grinned Izett, who proceeded to explain the remaining procedures including how the balances worked for the Lock and how to load the beams on the platform so it would not become unbalanced. Everything was explained so very quickly that I was hardly sure I would be able to retain it. All the while, they would mention things about the Orion known as Steele Veyne.

Steele evidently came many years ago and terrorized a few towns along the western coast, burning some of them to ash. He was tried and convicted, what the charges entailed I wasn't sure, and sentenced to live out the end of his days below The Turret. The guards told me all of these things as they watched me struggle with the barrels that other Factotum also struggled with, reiterating that he didn't stay long.

They said Steele's behavior was like that of an animal, growling and grunting, raising his voice at the slightest provocation. They muttered among themselves as though I weren't there but just loud enough so I could hear them. They were saying things like the Orion's voice was deeper than distant rolling thunder and twice as loud when he was trying to be quiet.

Finally, after I strained my arms and rolled over my toes twice with the barrels, it was time to descend the Lock to the lowest level where the Orion was housed. The weights were lifted, and we plummeted further and further into the darkness. The shaft was carved directly out of stone and narrowed as we descended. The rock was slick from where natural moisture gathered along the surface. The torch light gleamed against the rocks as though they were thousands of black, beady eyes.

The Lock came to a halt, sending my knotted stomach in a plummet and my heart in my throat. Every part of me tingled with a nervousness I hadn't felt in years. It was an anticipation. A nervous anticipation. The two guards ushered me off of the platform, making no effort to assist with the barrels, and brought me to a metal door.

"Now, it's very important you don't go beyond the line. You can roll the barrels beyond the line, but do not cross it. Do you understand?" asked the male guard. "This is for your safety."

"Yes ser," I mumbled as I stared at the barred door in front of me.

"Gervis, we can't forget to tell her the most important thing," reminded Izett.

"Right," acknowledged Gervis, the male guard who failed to identify himself. "The most important thing is to not let him hear you. If he hears you, he will be angry."

"Furious," Izett chimed in.

"Inconsolably agitated. It is imperative you keep away from the line and do not make a single sound. Do you understand?"

"Yes ser," I breathed. My skin tingled like I was a personal pin cushion for their teases and taunts, every jab and statement setting my nerves trembling. I could hardly breathe. The ache in my muscles from managing the hefty barrels was already going to be a challenge; however not as much as getting them into the room without a sound.

Trying to adhere to words I spoke to my daughter about keeping calm, I took one more calming breath, which irritated the nauseous churning in my gut, and let the guards pull the door open.

The chamber was completely dark except for two large cauldrons of flaming oil left hanging above a chasm of darkness. The ceiling stood many meters above my head, but it was the darkness below the rocky platform I was ushered onto that held my attention. It was against the wall, which was its only saving grace, but the edge was a sheer drop into the unknown.

There were no bars in the darkness below that I could see, but I could hear something faint that sounded like the rattling of chains – heavy chains. I didn't need to see to know something was in that dreaded darkness that was immense. There was something rhythmic like the rolling of tide water against stone along the seaside. It wasn't until I stepped into the chamber that I understood what it was – breathing.

I swallowed dryly and, with extreme caution, began rolling the barrels to the indicated spot Izett and Gervis told me about. I passed by what looked like additional platforms that descended into the darkness and continued further into the chamber. The length of each breath seemed to indicate that Steele was asleep. Perhaps this venture would go unnoticed.

The first and second went without incident. The third creaked only once, but the fourth made up for it. I was almost done. The job was almost done, and it was in complete silence. The final barrel was almost in place when I heard a sound that made me leap out of my skin and let out a yelp of surprise. The sound was the slamming of a door – a metal door. The thunderous clang of the hinges locking into place told me only one thing – they had closed and locked the door behind me.

There was an instant where the rattling stopped as did the breath. I held back every ounce of terror welling up inside me like a guizer preparing to burst. I clasped my hands over my mouth as if that would somehow keep the sound from erupting from my lungs. I needed to be quiet to be undiscovered. Every beat of my heart sent a terrible clenching ache through my veins. My mind raced but produced no thoughts. The air seemed to thicken with the damp moisture just as another sound rang out.

"STEELE! GET UP! YOUR BREAKFAST AWAITS!" The guards – those two wretched guards – were shouting through the small, barred hole in the door. The cauldrons of fire suddenly tilted as the sound of the chains in the darkness rattled. They could control the cauldrons of fire from one of the levers outside. Light was spreading through this liquid fire and was bringing more attention to the ledge and to me.

I dared not approach the door. I dared not move. I simply watched with my heart and scream in my throat as streams of fiery oil poured into several basins and began lighting the entire chamber. In the dim firelight which slowly trickled through the rest of the chamber, I could see him – the Orion.

I could only see his frame at first as I pressed myself against the rocks of the ledge. The guards had not lied to me. He was everything they said he was. Easily consuming a large portion of the chamber, his form lay on the ground, curled up into a kind of sleeping position. Hair which fell in his face came right to his shoulders if I could see correctly. There were elements of blonde, or dark blond rather, hair with fragments of silver lining where his ears were. There were years of smudge and grime caked into the beard on his face.

None of these things though were as terrifying as when his eyes flickered open, revealing two lightly colored violet orbs. They blinked once. Twice. Everything about him tensed as those eyes glanced to the platform where I had placed the barrels; and then to me. His entire body tensed, poised and ready to react.

Every impulse became second nature in an instant and seized control of my body. I turned and bolted toward the door, the sound of chains scraping the ground and a deep, ragged exhalation rumbled in his chest. I grasped at the bars on the small window, seeing only the giddy faces of the guards grinning sinisterly back at me. They were laughing, but I couldn't hear it. I could only hear the primal growl that shook the very walls of the cavernous room I was now trapped in.

Tears pricked the sides of my eyes as I fumbled with the door. Yes. I was locked in. I was locked in a room with an Orion.

"Trjahaka itdyom! Minyhar eemonspur!" The language was harsh and intense, rattling me to my soul. The very depth of his voice was like that of crashing boulders in a storm, an avalanche come to life. I tried blocking it out, hands flying to cover my ears. In that instant, the scream I tried desperately to hold back escaped and, not wanting the guards to have the satisfaction of seeing my fear, I turned away from the door and collapsed to my knees.

The chains rattled again and merely kneeling, was already almost eye-level with the platform. Was I going to die? Was all of this a trap set forth by Caster? The thought of being mangled or worse by this immense being was too much. A warm track of tears streaked down my face as I shuddered and shook, huddled in the corner like an animal knowing its fate to be slaughtered. Steele leaned forward, unable to stand because this vast cavern is too small for him to do so and directed his attention to the door. "Kevine! Doshti nool itsol qaathn…" He lunged slightly forward, making me shriek again. I turned toward the cavern wall and hid my eyes, hoping to not see the doom looming toward me in the shape of the Orion's fingers.

Steele was suddenly cut short from uttering anything else by a harsh gagging sound. I glanced just over my shoulder, not sure if my heart could take any more by the way it pounded and pumped nothing but air into my veins. I was safe. A thick collar around his neck and chains against his wrists kept him from advancing any further and reaching me. The closest he could get, which I could now see, was the extended platform where the barrels were still set perfectly.

Our eyes met and, for the life of me, I could not bring myself to look away from those violet eyes lined with crows' feet and a thoughtful brow.

The sound of howling laughter now filled my ears as the lock on the door was tossed to the side.

"Sorry about that Factotum, but we couldn't have you come in without initiation," grinned Gervis who stepped boldly into the chamber, freely meeting Steele's eyes. "Don't worry. He can't get any closer than to barely reach his meals. Isn't that right?" The Orion's eyes narrowed in a seething hatred I knew once many years ago.

"Come along now Factotum. We have other things to show you about this place. Let the beast eat in peace," grinned Izett as she did the only courteous thing she could and helped me to my feet. I shook like a fragmented leaf in a monstrous gale. If I had anything to eat, it would be making a second appearance. Fortunately, the only thing that happened was a few nervous coughs and the burning acidic taste in the back of my throat.

The low light kept the two young guards from seeing the glossy tears now streaming down my face. What a cruel start. What a miserable post. I could now see why others left the position in haste, not only for the Orion, but also for the treatment of the guards. Still, I needed this post. I needed to take care of my daughter. I shoved my feelings aside, knowing full well that afternoon I would weep into my cot of straw before returning later that night to my post to fulfil my role as the Orion's Factotum.