The Shadow Watch (excerpt of the published novel)

Chapter Two

On the day Commander Scelero selected them for servanthood, Tori and Darien stood side by side in a much larger crowd of servants. The slumlands of the Fringes teemed with lowborns from all over the world. Thousands of them gathered in that cesspool seeking the hope of servitude for some noble. Most ended up slaving for the workhouses and salt mines, but on occasion, the nobles came looking for new field hands, and even guards and kitchen maids. So, Tori and Darien's taskmaster cleaned them up and stood them in a great long line. One by one, the nobles passed them by for stronger brutes and prettier maidens.

But when Commander Scelero strode down the line, Tori could sense something different. The memory was engraved on Tori's mind. His eyes were green, like a meadow in springtime, like the eyes Tori had inherited from her Oshan mother. His face was hardened by years of war, but his expression softened when he saw her. She couldn't explain it.

"You look malnourished," he said gruffly.

Fourteen-year-old Tori stood tall. "I can work, milord. I can do anything you like. I learnt to live on little, and that's made me strong."

A hint of a smile crossed Scelero's face. "Made you stubborn, more like."

His gaze fixed on Darien then. Even at fifteen, Darien had been strong. He worked to the bone in the salt mines, and despite years of hunger and overwork, the commander saw his potential. "I'll take the boy," Scelero said to their taskmaster.

It took everything inside Tori to let go of Darien's hand. Her friend stepped forward, but then looked back to her.

"I-I can't go, milord," Darien said.

"That's not how it works, boy!" cried the taskmaster, a large grimy man named Kresta, who brandished a thick rod for unruly slaves.

"Afraid he's right, son," said Scelero, waving the taskmaster away. "If I want you, I can take you."

"Please, sir. N-not without—"

"Darien, shut your trap!" Tori cried. "Ignore him, milord. He's going. He wants to go. Please, don't change your mind. He's got to go with you!"

Warmth spread across the commander's face. "She your sister, boy?"

"Close to a sister as you can get, milord. I know she looks scrawny, but she's strong. Up here." Darien pointed to his head. "She'll learn to do anything you ask her, and do it ten times better than anyone else, I swear it."

The taskmaster gave the commander a querulous look, his rod resting on his shoulder. The line of nobles was being held up, and they were not pleased.

"I'll take them both," Scelero said.

* * *

Now, Darien had been chosen again, but there was no hope of Tori going with him this time. He made his way to the front of Scelero's hall. Tori reached for the empty space where his hand had been.

"Thank you for your service, Darien," recited the commander. "May you serve the empire well." Scelero shook the hands of all four of his servants. Then, he addressed the room.

"Tomorrow morning, we will join all the Lord Houses in Maro Square for the drafting ceremony, where we will say farewell to them for the last time. Until then, enjoy the feast. Good night."

The commander left his servants alone in the great hall. There was a rush to greet the chosen four. The guards actually had the audacity to congratulate them, patting the new recruits on the back. The other servants expressed condolences and wishes for safety and victory, all the while inwardly thanking their gods that they had not been the ones chosen. That was how Tori had felt as well at previous drafts. But not this time. I should be going with him.