Fools, these Mortals

Viola Chapter Six

Othello stamped his foot twice at the frosty stone floor. A large click snapped as it unlocked and the black doors opened. Light, warmth and the voices of people immediately filled my body with anticipation. Without a backwards glance, Othello made his way through the doors. As there was no other alternative, I stumbled forward, with my wet feet leaving a trail. Within a few breaths, all traces of the cold left my body, ceasing my trembles. Before me was the largest grand hall I had ever seen. Clearly Othello's kin were far wealthier than mine. Boasting talented craftsmen, I had to admit begrudgingly.

Stairs descended to the main chamber of the hall. Decorated by dark carved stonework that adorned every wall, the hall took grandeur to a whole new light. A dominant white fire blazed hotly at the end of the room. The centre piece that reached halfway up the wall. Smaller fires dotted the side of the hall, in between ancient pillars of stone that queued at each quarterly mark. Casting such light, that no candles were needed. Two simple thrones on a platform were positioned before the grand fireplace. Infront of the thrones were two long tables, burdened by empty wooden cups, a knife and a filled silver bowl. Long tables filled the sides of the room on rich tiled flooring. Every inch was covered in food, smoking and drink pinchers with more wooden cups. Plentiful in colours and variety. Meats, vegetables, desserts. Standing in the centre of the hall were the rest of shackled criminals and the pregnant woman. All their eyes gouged on the awaiting food, ripe for the taking. Along with the shadowy figures from the cave that stood surrounding them in a tight formation. They were still wrapped in their white garments. One man was standing on the platform of the thrones.

"Come, Kirk," Othello called back to me.

On unsteady feet, I descended down the stairs, using the stone railing for support. Quietly I made my way to stand in the cluster of chained people.

"Welcome to Illyria, your new home. I am Sustainer Iago," the man in the black leathers began. "And here is where you will make use of the rest of your lives." Iago clapped a greeting to us. His gaze did a double take when he spotted me; a frown frosted over his eyes before his smile was back into place.

Despite the obvious black servants' uniform, Iago's demeanour was that of nobility. Curled white and grey beard framed his smiling face, with dark brown eyes that twinkled. Sharp intelligence lurked behind those eyes, which sparked familiarity. Did I know him? Blankness from my memory answered my consciousness. On a silent command, Othello's people stepped forward to remove all the chains. Deep grunts of approval echoed through the hall. On predator stealth, Othello came to my right and gently unlocked my chains. Relief screamed through my joints.

"Thank you," I whispered to Othello.

One ancient man frowned. "When can we get our freedom?"

Iago chortled, "Why, my friend, whenever you wish. The doors are unlocked. The drawbridge is self-operating. There is a small town, a day's travel at a moderate pace. There are no chains from this moment on. No one from the staff nor court will stop you. You're free to go as you please."

Iago held my attention. Escape seemed too easy to accomplish. Criminals were sent here to serve out the rest of their sentence. Why give them the option of freedom? Standing in silence, I glanced at the men; desperation leaked from some, most were cautious. The woman was less so. After all, she had another life that depended on her.

"But I would advise you to stay the night," Iago said with a smooth smile, teeth white and straight. Definitely confident in his charisma. "You've all had a long, tiresome journey. Sleep on it. All males have the communal sleeping quarters and the women have their own separated accommodation. You will be made very comfortable, my dear. Whatever you need, do not hesitate to ask for it," Iago addressed the blushing woman.