The Orion's Factotum

Ch. I | The Job

I was awake far before the first sun's light. I could hardly sleep even though the summer night was cooler than it had been in a long time. The crickets sang for most of the night in their soft, soothing way. There was a promise of rain clinging to the night air. 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 whom I would be working with in my new occupation as the Orion's Factotum.

My dear friend, Caster Veil, had arranged the meeting which still played repeatedly in my head over and over with the counsel saying that I would fulfill my obligations and accept the position despite the inherent danger. I didn't say much. I didn't have to say anything because 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 toward the castle and its 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 tread 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 and the location where I was told to go to tend to my duties. The Turret was built on a raised mound of earth and stood against the sun, silhouetted perfectly as a lone tower. This column was only the entrance for the main part of the prison. The real prison lay 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? Was he violent? Would he kick and shout at me? Would he lunge at me? Curse and yell profane things? 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 it desperately. 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 remembered stammering when the male guard leaned over, looking me dead in the eyes.