The First Dance of Rapsamash

The sound of heavy footsteps approached the hovel. It was time. Today was finally her turn to work in the kitchen. She had to steal a lot of things and remain unnoticed. Stealing a single fruit had become a routine, as the loss of one wouldn’t be noticed. But stealing various herbs, roots, and other ingredients was a different challenge.

— Rapsamash! It’s time to prepare the chow. Don’t make me wait, or it will be like last time.

Kavir, as usual, waited at the very entrance. Being inside the “bald dump” he considered beneath his dignity unless it was necessary. Last time, this “necessity” cost Raps and her mother dearly. But she would repay him, she would definitely repay.

— And bring your bald sister along. She’ll be your replacement.

Shivers ran down Raps’ spine. Arti grabbed their mother’s hand, huddling close. It took considerable effort for their mother to sit up in bed, but she managed it. She gently stroked Arti’s head with her free hand and kissed her.

— Everything will be fine, Arti. Go with your sister, she won’t let anything bad happen to you.

The little girl obediently let go of their mother’s hand and rushed to Raps, her eyes filled with fear. In a way, Raps took pleasure in it. Finally, Arti would experience life in her skin, and she wouldn’t spend all her time with Mama. Yet on the other hand, she knew what awaited her sister... and she didn’t want that fate for her. But if she had to watch over Arti now, their chances of a bright future might fade. How could she steal everything she needed in this situation?

— The longer I wait here, the more lashes I will give your dear “mama” and her little whelp when my patience runs out. Hurry up, Rapsamash!

— Rapsi, take care of Arti, alright? Don’t worry about me; I’ll manage.

— Okay, Mama.

Raps held out her hand to her sister, and Arti squeezed it tightly, almost hanging on. It was clear that she was about to burst into tears, but she did her best to restrain herself.

— Stay calm, Arti. There won’t be any lashes if you listen to them, — Raps whispered, — and to me too. Arti, I’ll have to steal many different things from the kitchen, not just fruits. But if they catch me, it will be very bad for all of us. Understand?”

Arti nodded obediently, never taking her eyes off her sister.

— I won’t be able to help you and steal the herbs at the same time. But stealing them is crucial, very-very important! If I don’t steal them, something terrible will happen...

— I’m counting to three! One!

— Let’s go. There’s nothing to be afraid of; you’ll just help prepare food with the others.

Raps led her sister toward the exit of the hovel, where Kavir awaited them. Arti sniffed and wiped away her tears, obediently following her sister. As soon as they stepped over the threshold, all of Raps’ muscles tensed at once. There was a familiar whistle in the air. Arti screamed.

— Two!! Here’s a warm-up for you, you bald mutt! So that life doesn’t seem like honey to you!

Raps shielded her sister, baring her teeth at the guard. Anger clouded her mind. If he made another move, she would pounce on him. She promised Arti that there would be no lashes...

— Oh, so you’ve gathered enough courage to snarl, huh? If you weren’t merchandise, I’d whip you so hard! Too bad I won’t have the pleasure. But with your mother, oh, I would have quite the fun.

Kavir turned around demonstratively, pretending to enter their home. Raps was boiling with rage. She hissed quietly, and her fur stood on end. Such a trick might have worked against her before, but not now, not when she has Suiravka. She can beat him. She can kill him here and now. Surprisingly, Raps felt no fear.

— So, you’ve truly gone mad! Look at you, thinking so highly of yourself! Well, soon they will shake you off, and I will not leave a living place on your congeners! Mark my words! And now, onward! To the kitchen, quickly!

The girl, still snarling, turned her back to the guard, shielding her sister. Her heart was still pounding fiercely, but her rage had subsided. If she erupted now, if she didn’t follow the plan, there would be no chance for her congeners’ salvation. She had to hold on. She would make Kavir pay for everything.

***

The kitchen, as it was called by the locals, was essentially a large barn where underage and not suitable for other types of work, slaves from different parts of the city, including other mines, were herded. Here they were “allowed” to cook food for their kin. It was one of Eklat’s strange whims: they believed that if they allowed the slaves to cook their own food, even from third-rate ingredients, they would work better and be less prone to escape. And it was also an opportunity to punish certain miners by depriving their kin of food if the “cook” failed in the kitchen.

Raps never attracted the kitchen cook’s or supervisors’ displeasure by doing everything quickly and carefully. From the offered ingredients, mostly leftovers from city eateries or soldiers’ barracks, she took just enough to ensure there was enough for all her congeners but tried to reduce the amount of obviously spoiled food. The only thing she could be punished for was stealing fruit. However, no one ever caught her doing that because her hands and fingers were nimble. She would snatch fruits when she managed to get into the storage area where good produce intended for the local workers was kept. While they were busy with their cooking, the slaves were forced to carry baskets and boxes there, sometimes empty, sometimes filled with grain or other supplies. That’s where Raps skillfully grabbed sweet fruits and hid them in the folds of her coarse tunic. Now, her task was more challenging: she had to find what she needed to steal. And with Arti nearby... she attracted too much attention.

The cook — a strict, hot-tempered middle-aged woman—spent ten minutes pinching Arti’s ears, tail, and cheeks before finally allowing Raps to enter the kitchen.

— Behave yourself, and no one will harm you, understood? — the gray-haired woman finally backed off from Arti. — And now, get to work! Rapsamash, you’ll teach her. Her mistakes will be your mistakes. I won’t turn a blind eye. Forward!

Many other familiar faces were already there. That meant the best of the available ingredients had already been taken. That is, if people knew what to take. Her comrade, Tadum, a half-orc about her age, hadn’t learned how to choose suitable ingredients for his... dishes. If soups and porridge made from heaven knows what could be called dishes. He wasn’t remarkable physically or intellectually, but he was very curious and kind-hearted.

— — So-u, tha-at ish yoa bald sista? — he also spoke quite oddly, — Prettey! Bat yo a prettiear!

— Thank you, Tadum. Let me introduce you. This is Artirimaya, you can call her Arti. Arti, this is Tadum — he’s a half-orc. He’s good and not scary.

Arti stared silently at the gray-skinned, frightfully thin, but tall friend of Raps. He grinned foolishly at her while continuously throwing random things into the pot of boiling water. Raps suddenly realized that Arti had never seen other races except for the the Taular and humans. And here, in the kitchen, Raps had encountered a variety of creatures from all across the Far Lands: orcs, elves, dwarves, halflings, red-skins with clipped horns, ash-legs, and fox-like kinfolk, the Brauri, who were close relatives to the Taular. And they were all slaves of Eklat.

But there was little time to reconcile with that reality. Today, there were only a few orcs, gnomes, and a couple of elves present. Usually, Rapsamash would coincide with Tadum and Brauri Riata, so they got along well, but Riata was nowhere to be seen. Raps hoped she was fine and that today was simply not her turn to cook.

— She-e wiel cook when yo leav, raight? — Tadum frowned, understanding why there was suddenly a new cook among the the Taular.

— Quiet, Tadum! No one allowed you to talk here! — the cook threatened the orc with her fist. — Rapsamash, hurry up and explain to your sister what’s what, or you’ll all go hungry with your brood!

Raps began cooking, instructing Arti to observe her attentively, memorize, and, most importantly, not get in the way. She went through all the barrels and sacks of “ingredients”—scraps and spoiled food—sniffing each one, wrinkling her nose at the ones that smelled particularly bad. She observed what others had already taken and from where they got it, thought about what she could do with what was left, explained her actions to Arti, and started gathering the suitable food into a pot. Her mind worked feverishly, trying to remember and figure out what she needed to steal and how to do it. Luck smiled upon her: she found some honeycombs that had been sucked dry by someone — one of the strangest and rarest ingredients requested by Ittira, claiming it was vital, according to her words. Well, it was a rare ingredient, but no one needed it here, at the kitchen. Raps gave a meaningful look to Arti, swiftly hiding the find in her tunic. The young girl nodded slowly and uncertainly, understanding her sister’s intentions. A couple of necessary herbs were found just as quickly—among the sacks were a few with herbs and leaves meant for livestock feed. It seemed like a mocking joke, but the cook always included a couple of such sacks here. Sometimes, some of the cooks added these herbs to their “dishes” to mask the smell or enhance the taste. But today, Raps didn’t need to indulge in turning waste into food. Today, she was here to find a better use for those herbs.

Everything was going smoothly: the girl hadn’t even started cooking yet, but more than half of what she needed for the wise woman was already warming her heart. Arti wasn’t as much of a hindrance as Raps initially feared — she silently and cautiously followed her sister, listening attentively without distracting. The cook occasionally shot them stern glances as she moved back and forth in the barn, but as usual, Tadum received most of the reprimands. He was used to it and didn’t let it get to him, continuing to throw moldy bread and meat scraps into the same pot. It used to surprise Raps, but Tadum said his kin never complained about such food as long as it was filling. Well, if there were no other candidates for the kitchen among the orcs, perhaps he really was a decent cook... for them. Rapsamash had only a little left to steal, but for that, she needed to infiltrate the storage area. She whispered it quietly to Arti, but the young girl didn’t react. Finally, the cook was called somewhere. While she and the guards were distracted, Tadum leaned toward Raps and whispered loudly, “Yo wiel syucceead wis evrygting, Rhaps! We al r-relay on-a yo! We neow it wiel woar-rk o-aut!” Once again, Raps felt the burden of responsibility and straightened her tunic to ensure nothing would accidentally fall out of the stolen goods. At that moment, the cook returned.

— Enough, you dunces! Stop your stewing and come over here! There are plenty of crates today, and I’ll make sure you don’t drop them. Everyone, move! Except the little newcomer.

Plenty of crates meant a better chance of getting what she needed. But the cook would be watching... That was fine; the perfect moment would come. Raps, relying on her luck, joined the others, helping the elf carry one of the crates. Those had a strange marking on them, a large rectangle resembling a door, white on a violet background. Were they delivering something new? Raps sniffed—her nose told her it was edible, but that was all she could understand without opening the crate. And there were many such crates, along with bags and several barrels. It would take a while to move them. Arti initially walked with her sister, carefully holding onto the hem of her tunic, but then she got tired and sat by the pot where their soup was simmering. The cook remained inside the storage area, keeping a close eye on everyone entering and leaving. After moving a dozen crates with the elf, who looked quite unwell, Raps was surprised that she wasn’t tired at all. But she was concerned that she still hadn’t found what she needed to steal. The cook. Why had she suddenly decided to stand there? The girl looked at her sister. She caught her gaze and, with a blink, suddenly stood up and headed straight for the storage area.

— Hey, why did you stop? There’s still a lot to carry, move faster! — The guards joined in, urging the tired cooks.

Rapsamash, keeping an eye on Arti, obediently went to fetch another crate. As she passed by the guards, she listened in.

— That noble delegation caused quite a stir. They filled up all the barns, I tell you! We had to haul so much here...

— Well, they’ll consume all that food together with the Vizier, may his wisdom be praised. What does it matter to us?”

— Ah, but imagine the feast they’ll have. It’s going to be grand.

— They forgot to invite you though. Ha-ha!

— We’ll see about that, who would be on duty. I hear there will be a dancer too — that one, with black fur. Probably the delegation will take her to the capital.

For a moment, Rapsamash staggered. If someone was going to dance soon—it would be her. That meant... that meant she would be dancing at this upcoming feast, where people from the capital would also be present. These markings... the markings of the capital? The capital of Eklat? Could it be that the King himself had come? A shiver ran down Raps’ spine. If she could kill him...

— Move it! You don’t have much time, or you’ll go hungry, — the cook’s stern voice snapped her back to reality. Raps quickly straightened up—there was a more important task at hand. What was Arti doing? Her sister was curiously peering into the storage area, and the cook noticed. Contrary to Raps’ expectations, the woman didn’t shout or threaten the girl; instead, she squatted down and beckoned her closer. This day continued to surprise Rapsamash. Did Arti come up with such a clever diversion to help her? They needed to hurry.

After bringing a few more crates, each time lingering in the storage area to quickly inspect the contents of numerous bags, barrels, and crates, Raps had a few seconds each time to discreetly open a couple of lids and grab some of the contents without raising suspicion. Well done, Arti! Just a couple more crates, and the thief would acquire everything she needed. She just hoped nothing would fall out of her tunic.

— Rapsamash! What’s going on here?

As soon as Raps ventured deeper into the storage area in search of one of the last ingredients, the cook’s voice made her freeze.

— I... um... there was something rustling over there...

— Come here, quick! I’ve been in charge here for twenty years; nothing could be rustling over there.

If they decided to search her now, they would find all the stolen goods. And the blade... things would turn really bad. Raps’ heart pounded. Killing the cook here and now? But she had never done anything wrong to her... But she had done wrong to others! If she killed her, things could end up even worse than if her theft was discovered. What should she do? What should she do?

— You’re taking too long here. Do you want to steal something from me? Well, come closer and show me what’s under your tunic!

Raps hesitated. There must be a way out... Run? But how would she come back and deliver everything she stole? What would happen to Arti and their mother if she ran away? What would she do after she escaped? Suddenly, she noticed Arti sneaking into the storage area behind the cook. Carefully, step by step. While Raps slowly approached the cook, Arti started climbing up the crates. What was she doing? Did she want to jump on the cook from above? Why? That would only make things worse... Don’t be foolish, Arti!

But Arti, reaching almost the top crate of the pyramid that had formed at the entrance of the storage area, clung to it and pulled it down. The unevenly stacked crates, already weakened by the exhausted cooks, toppled over, bringing down those on top and some beneath. With a crash, the pyramid of crates marked with the symbol of the capital collapsed. The sound of breaking glass came from some of the crates. A reddish-brown liquid started to spill out.

The cook, horrified and instantly transitioning from anger, shouted.

— What?! What, the Breach take you, have you done, you little flea-bitten runt?!

In an instant, she lunged forward, grabbing Arti, who had sprawled on the ground, most likely bruised by the heavy crates, by the collar of her tunic and lifted her high, shaking her forcefully. The guards had also rushed over.

Behind them, the other cooks peered out. One of them whistled. Raps stood there, rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do. She had to save Arti! But she also had to get all the stolen goods out of here... What should she do? What should she do?

— Whip them! Whip both of these bald-faced vermins!

— But, ma’am, we can’t harm the black one. She’s merchandise. They say the Commander will take her.

— Then... then throw this one in the cage! Let their brood starve for five days!

— And for how long should we put her in the cage? For five as well?

— Until she dies! Worthless scum. Get them out of my sight, fast!

The situation was dire. The cage — a small chamber on the fourth level of the mines — was reserved for only the most grievous offenders. Some didn’t survive even a day there, consumed by the denizens of the tunnels. If Arti was thrown in there... she would never escape.

One of the guards approached Rapsamash and pushed her on the shoulder. The girl couldn’t believe what had happened. If it weren’t for Arti, everything would have gone downhill. But was it worth it? Could Raps have maneuvered out of this situation?

Another, stronger push. Raps nearly stumbled.

— Why are you standing there, you flea-ridden creature? Move!

The guards led Raps and Arti back to the tunnels through narrow, long, and winding corridors in the underground part of the city. These tunnels were dug by their ancestors, seeking refuge from the Great Storm, and later became their dwelling. They survived, but then they were driven back underground, robbed of sunlight once again. Rapsamash would bring it back. She would bring them out from beneath the earth. But first, she would rescue Arti from the cage.