The Knight and the Peasant [FIRST DRAFT]

Chapter 27

A week after terms had been negotiated with the Seeker Company, Emma sat in a carriage that rolled through the streets of Grenaserrat City. She was accompanied by her brother and the three leaders of the Seeker Company. She had asked her brother where they were going, but the High King had only smiled and said it was a surprise.

Emma had found herself constantly fascinated with the Sersalvonians. They stood out so much in the Réaltimarine court and they cared so little for Réaltimarine traditions. They constantly defied the norm in both style and behavior. They kept close to each other, never trusting the Réaltimarine nobles. She also found herself captivated by Carabaí culture. However, there were few books that were not restricted that she could read about the Carabaí-folk and their way of life. She had yet to gather her courage and approach the foreigners.

The carriage soon left the walls of Grenaserrat City behind them. The road they took hung closely to a small tributary. The tropical weather was unbearable. It was simply too warm. Emma missed the temperate summers of her homeland. She remembered how she would despise the frigid winters but now. . . now she missed them almost more than anything.

Her brother sat in front of her, his eyes glazing over the foreign countryside. It was moments like these where High King Peter would melt away and reveal the brother underneath. Her brother underneath.

"Do you ever miss home?" she asked him quietly. Her voice barely above a whisper.

She could see he was slightly surprised at her question. "Of course. Every day."

They rode in silence for a little while.

"What do you miss most about it?"

His lips drew into a thin line. "The winters. The snow. The scent of pine trees. Everything. There's not really one specific thing I can pinpoint."

Emma nodded in understanding. "I miss the people most, I think."

"The people here are pathetic, aren't they?"

"What do you mean?" Emma mumbled.

Peter snarled. "They're all weak. Soft, spineless creatures. Nothing like the people back home. They are inferior to us. The only thing they're good for is the labor of the fields."

"Even the man who killed Sir Jonatan?" she whispered.

A smile tugged at Peter's lips. "Fair point, elder sister."

Finally, their carriage reached the rice fields. The wet, flat expanse was filled with rice plants. It was a sea, one that stretched for miles on end. Emma stared at everything in awe. It was essentially a massive plantation.

"What are we doing here?" she asked Peter.

"Checking on the slaves," he answered.

All around them, Grenesarri harvested rice by scythe and sickle. Overseers walked amongst them, holding whips in their hands. Any time one of the slaves faltered, an overseer would ravage them with his whip. Men, women, and children alike were sentenced to the fields. In just a few seconds, Emma heard seven screams as the weak Grenesarri fell to the ground, writhing under the cold leather of the whip. Every crack of the whip struck through the air. But Emma did not flinch. Not once.

At least until she heard the screams of rape.

Emma grimaced and tried to close her eyes and ignore the screams. But she just couldn't. She wanted to turn and scream at her younger brother to make them stop. But she knew it was the right of the overseers to use the slaves as they see fit as long as work got done as well. The slaves were nothing more than property after. . . not humans.