Louder Lemon
The royal palace of the Shah sees more than five hundred visitors a day
“Four lemons, please!” Sadie pointed. The old merchant smirked, regarding her with a knowing glint in his eye. “Don’t say it!” she quickly added.
Oyaji shrugged and began to bag her fruit. “You do see the irony, though, don’t you?” he asked her.
Sadie sighed. “Yeah, gramps, I see it,” she grumbled. “Almost like I’ve heard the joke a million times.”
He chuckled. “You’re so much like your mother.”
“You’d better hope not. She’d have smacked you for even implying that joke.”
“She did once, actually,” the elderly merchant replied. Oyaji stroked his beard. “She’s a feisty one, your mother. Probably where you get it from.” Sadie grinned as the old man tied the bag closed. “That’ll be two bronze honorables, young miss.”
She reached into her pocket and produced a pair of bronze coins, then dropped them into Oyaji’s outstretched palm. His fingers curled around the coins. Sadie took the bag, dropping it into her pocket. The large bag began to shrink as if it was being pulled by a vortex, then vanished into her pocket in a flash of golden light. A shiver coursed down Sadie’s spine as she felt the magic drain out of her, like water leaking from a cracked barrel. The runic circle on the back of her hand began to fade, disappearing as if absorbed by her skin.
“Oh-ho!” Oyaji exclaimed. “Been practicing your spells lately?”
Sadie flushed. “Heh, maybe a little,” she admitted, her grin widening sheepishly. “I’m kind of behind in that class,” she added after a moment.
Oyaji laughed again. “You remind me of when I was your age!”
Sadie grimaced. “Well uh... Did you pass the class?”
He gave her a sympathetic look. “You’ll be alright either way. Unless you were planning to test for the magi, that is.”
“Nope, definitely not trying to be a magus,” Sadie replied.
“Then you’ll be fine!” Oyaji reassured her. “Once you take over your family’s business, you’ll forget magic class was ever a thing. Heck, you’ll forget school was ever a thing!” Sadie scrunched up her face at the thought of taking over her father’s shop. She wasn’t sure that selling jewels was for her, either. Oyaji, noticing her expression, quickly added, “Or, you know, you’ll do something else. Whatever it is you set your mind to, I know that you’ll be great at it.”
“You really think so?”
“Of course I do. You’re a clever girl, Sadie. Stubborn as the Eternal Destroyer, sure, but who isn’t at your age?”
Sadie smiled. “Thanks, Oyaji.”
He returned the smile. “Don’t worry, Sadie. You’ve got years ahead of you, yet. In the meantime, is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Just the lemons.”
“Alright then. Try not to cause your mother too much trouble, alright, young miss?”
“No promises!” she exclaimed, drawing another chuckle from the merchant. Sadie smiled at him again before turning to leave. “See you tomorrow, gramps.”
“See you tomorrow, Sadie!”
She waved, then continued down the street. The marketplace was crowded as usual, vendors soliciting her from all sides as she made her way.
“A moment, please! You must try my flatbread! The best in Tel Kellah!”
“Mais non, cherie! Forget that scam artist and his flatbread! You must try my exotic fruit. I brought it all the way from Ibrahim! Ramin himself favors the gardens there, you know!”
Sadie passed each one by, bowing curtly with an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry, I don't have the time right now! Next time!"
She turned from the packed marketplace, ducking into a nearby alley. The alleys tended to be sparsely populated on account of how easily the unaccustomed could lose their way in the labyrinthian corridors. Sadie, however, knew them like the back of her hand. Muscle memory propelled her through nondescript back streets, past piles of trash and ragged urchins in corners, past stinking puddles and packs of stray dogs.
Her eyes fell upon one particular urchin, curled into a ball in a remote corner. He was shivering despite the day’s wicked heat, arms wrapped around each other and clutched over his chest. His breath was visible in the air, thick from condensation as if he were in some snowy place. As he shivered one of his sleeves slipped, revealing a large, runic circle on his arm, puffy and blistered, as if it had been seared into the trembling urchin’s skin by a hot iron. The sight caused her stomach to churn. She averted her gaze and kept walking.
Her journey brought her to a half-tucked arcade with a series of circumspect arched doorways. On one of the arches, bright red paint depicted a serpent with three heads. Bold font above the serpent read, “Beware His Return. Repent Now!”
It was noticeably colder there, a corner too isolated for sunlight to reach it. Sadie felt goosebumps crawling up her skin and shivered.
She whistled, three staccato notes in the pitch of the pied cuckoo. Before long, three urchin children appeared from out of the shadows, dressed in sweaty rags. They seemed hesitant at first, waiting to see if anyone else was with her. When they confirmed that she was alone, the three children scampered over excitedly.
“What did you bring us today?!” Cyrus asked her excitedly. He was a disheveled looking boy, dirty with thick brown hair. He was small for his age, more akin to a six or seven year old than a boy of ten. Like the other children, he bore a tattoo of a large X on his forehead: the mark of the truthless.
Sadie grinned and reached into her pockets. Glimmering dust burst forth, like golden snowflakes. Bags of lemons, apples, and loaves of fresh bread materialized in her waiting hands. “Like I promised!”
“Yippee! A feast!” Nazanin, the oldest, exclaimed.
“That’s so cool, Sadie!” Cyrus said.
Sadie’s grin widened. “Hold these a sec.”
She handed her loot to Nazanin, then crouched and produced the small knife her brother had gifted her. She began to cut the bread and fruit, then distributed the food evenly among the children.
When she had finished handing out the food, a feeling of invigoration passed through her like a wave, cold electricity sparking deep in her bones. She breathed a sigh of relief as she felt the magic fill her. Glowing lines burned into existence on the back of Sadie’s hand, golden runes scrawled within a tiny circle. Once more her pockets felt larger than life, enchanted by the power of a promise kept. After a moment the light faded, leaving the circle as a black tattoo.
The children began to dig in, their ravenous hunger apparent in the savage way with which they devoured their meals.
“Are you sure it’s okay for you to do this?” Nazanin asked between mouthfuls. “We’re all quick enough to get food by ourselves. You don’t have to spend your money on us.”
Sadie regarded the girl, then took one of Nazanin’s hands into her own. The young girl’s nails were flecked with dirt and dust. “It’s better if I do it,” Sadie said. “Worst case for me is a fine and some community service for fraternizing. If one of you gets caught stealing, they’ll take your hands.”
Nazanin nodded. “I guess that’s true, but...”
“No buts,” Sadie insisted. She smiled. “I’m happy to help.”
“I just couldn’t live with myself if you got in trouble because of us.”
How did anyone say no to those giant, pleading eyes?
Sadie shook her head. “Let me worry about that. You just focus on eating.” She desperately wished that she could do more, that she could change the society that had forced this life upon these innocent children. In Sadie’s meager position, however, there was only so much that she could do for those named truthless.
“You there!” a gruff voice exclaimed.
Sadie turned to find a city guardsman blocking the way out of the alley. He was dressed in the traditional garb of Tel Kellah’s warrior cast: red and gold dragonscale tunic and bracers with chainmail beneath. His helmet bore a standard neyzak spike, and he had a spear slung over his back.
“Go!” Sadie exclaimed.
The three children bolted past the guardsman. He gasped, surprised by their sudden burst of alacrity. By the time he had registered what was happening, the children had disappeared around the corner, leaving Sadie alone with the guardsman. He turned back to her, arms resting on his hips. Sadie gulped.
“They may have gotten away, but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook,” the guardsman told her.
“They were starving!” Sadie pleaded.
The guardsman sneered. “You think I give a damn about a bunch of truthless vermin? Now let’s see some identification.”
Her heart sank. Sadie sighed. Though she was prepared for most of the consequences of being caught, she’d still hoped to avoid this outcome. The labor wouldn’t be too bad, she’d done it half a dozen times already. The lecture that she’d get from her father was another matter entirely, not to mention how angry Sadie’s mother would be about paying yet another fine on her behalf.
She reached beneath her shirt and produced a thin chain with an ovular, bronze cartouche attached at the end. She handed her identification tag to the guardsman.
He took it, turning it over in his hands. The guardsman frowned. “How do you pronounce your name?”
“Sadie Lauterleman,” she replied, wincing slightly as she saw the look on the man’s face.
The guardsman raised an eyebrow. “Louder lemon?” he repeated, mulling the name over. “Actually, I prefer my lemons to be nice and quiet.” He chuckled.
Sadie rolled her eyes. “Ha ha,” she said dryly.
“Lighten up, it’s only a joke. How’d you end up with a surname like that, anyway?”
“Mom’s half Camduren.”
“Ah.” He handed the tag back to her. “Listen, I’m going to have to take you in.”
Sadie’s face fell. “Come on...” she muttered.
“What was that?” the guardsman snapped. “Are you resisting?”
“No, no of course not,” Sadie said quickly.
The guardsman shrugged. “Turn around.” Sadie complied. He grabbed a pair of bronze shackles from his belt and began fitting them around her wrists. Just as she was starting to mentally curse herself for her carelessness, another voice spoke from behind the guardsman.
“Sadie?”
The guardsman turned. His jaw dropped as a shadow filled the alley. A massive woman loomed before him, standing over two meters tall. She had a strong, square jaw and wore a gold cuirass with matching gauntlets and pauldrons. She bore runic tattoos all across her forearms, face, and the exposed skin between separations in her armor. An insignia was carved into the upper right corner of her breastplate, a tri-layered circle with a rose at the center; the mark of an Aspbad Paladin.
In contrast to the soldier with his thin spear, the woman had slung on her back a gargantuan sword, taller and wider than any man. How the woman could carry such a weapon everywhere without getting tired was beyond Sadie’s comprehension.
The guardsman paled as he drank in the sight of the massive woman. “E-Executioner!” he stammered, offering a hasty bow. His eyes fell to the insignia on her breastplate, and then to the bronze badge she wore over her upper bicep, an octagonal piece with an additional insignia: a clover with six leaves. “How may I serve you, Arash Shara?”
Executioner cocked her head to the side quizzically. “What are you doing?” Her voice was neutral, emotionless.
“I-I was just arresting this girl for fraternization with the truthless, my liege!”
“Fraternization,” Executioner repeated dryly.
The guardsman flushed. “Y-Yes, Arash Shara!”
Executioner scowled at him. “You have more important responsibilities than arresting an adolescent for fraternization.”
“Y-Yes, Arash Shara!” the guardsman repeated.
“See to them.”
“Yes, Arash Shara!” the guardsman repeated a third time. He bowed again, then ran from the alley, leaving Sadie half-shackled.
“Hey!” Sadie called after him. “You forgot your-You know what, nevermind.” After the guardsman had left, Executioner turned to her. Sadie held out her shackled wrist. “Want to help a girl out?”
The tall woman raised an eyebrow. She put her hand on the shackle and began to squeeze. The metal cracked, then crumbled away from Sadie’s wrist as easily as sand passing through an hourglass. How in Rouhani did she do that?
“I, uh, I owe you one,” Sadie said.
Executioner shrugged, turning and walking out of the alley. She motioned for Sadie to follow. Sadie complied, not daring to disobey. It would have been one thing to disobey a Paladin, but to defy someone of Executioner’s station was another matter entirely. Even satraps, the eight governing lords in charge of running each of Tel Kellah’s octants, would think twice before crossing one who was Arash Shara.
“What are you doing so far from the palace?” Sadie asked.
“Your father asked me to find you,” Executioner replied without turning around.
“Crap...” Sadie muttered.
The two women emerged back onto the bustling market streets. Most of the streets were made from rugged stone and tended to be narrow. The buildings occupying them looked mostly the same - short, square structures constructed with a tan stucco and fortified against sandstorms. There weren’t many windows or entrances to most buildings, causing most of the city to resemble a great maze. Compact kiosks lined most of the wider streets. Merchants in the kiosks called out to the two women.
“The freshest strawberries you’ve ever tasted, Arash Shara, guarantee!”
“Come this way, ladies. I’ve the finest scimitars you’ll ever lay eyes on.”
“May I interest you in the latest parfum, perfect for making you stand out with the men?”
Executioner walked by each kiosk with a stony expression, ignoring the vendors. She moved with the slow, deliberate grace of an experienced soldier, her posture rigid and her steps orderly. Sadie kept close, making sure not to stray too far behind.
“You shouldn’t get mixed up with truthless,” Executioner said after they’d been walking for a while.
The two women turned onto a wide street, large enough to accommodate a platoon of soldiers jogging next to one another on the other side. Their commanding officer bellowed at them from the front, urging the soldiers to run faster. Each soldier saluted Executioner with a fist to the heart as they passed. Executioner saluted them back, nodding to their commanding officer.
“The truthless are people too,” Sadie argued. “It’s not right how everyone treats them.”
“I’m not saying it is,” Executioner replied patiently. “But it’s not safe for you to be around them. Others will begin to treat you as one of the truthless. Your father asked me to look out for you, but I can’t be there to protect you every time.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“And if someone disapproving sets fire to your home?”
Sadie didn’t answer. She knew that Executioner was right. The hate against the truthless was ubiquitous across other castes, suspicion raised by the truthless’ inability to make magical promises or become bound by them. Some said it was because the truthless had no souls. The violence against them was as common as the dawn. Sadie knew she put her family at risk of violent discrimination by hanging around the truthless.
“Are you listening?” Executioner asked.
Sadie sighed. “I hear you. I just... It just makes me so mad, you know? It’s not their fault they were born truthless. Why do we have to treat them so badly?”
“The goddess Susa teaches that in the pursuit of justice it is pivotal to sacrifice oneself, and to never sacrifice others against their will.”
Sadie frowned. “But how can it be wrong to feed the hungry?”
Executioner didn’t respond. Instead she kept walking, eyes always ahead as if she expected danger to leap out at any given moment. With how much war Executioner had seen in her lifetime, who could blame her? Still, the tall woman was even more stoic than normal today. She seemed somehow troubled, though Sadie couldn’t say how exactly she could tell. Then again, it was always hard to tell with the freakishly tall woman. Executioner tended to be all business all of the time.
What must Executioner’s personal life be like? Sadie smiled to herself at the thought of Executioner on a date. “What I do for fun? Oh, you know, scowl a lot. I sleep with my sword, too.”
Sadie gasped as the women arrived onto a familiar street. “Wait! This is my house!”
There it was, just down the street - green painted door and everything. Her father’s wagon was parked just outside.
Executioner raised an eyebrow. “Obviously, I’m going to inform your father of what you’ve been doing.”
Sadie felt like she’d just been slapped. “Wait... You’re going to?! For real?! Aw, shit.”
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