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Prelude 3: Tepet Lasari

Earliest Memories

Lasari pulled herself out of bed. What was that noise? Surely her parents would not dare to have a party without her? Without even telling her? She loved the parties her parents threw, loved being the centre of attention, being praised, showing off her latest accomplishments, wrapping adults around her little finger. But yes, she gasped with indignation, that was definitely the sound of music downstairs.

She crept past her sleeping slave-nanny and managed to reach the huge doors of the reception hall without being noticed. Lasari was fuming by now. A party. And without her. Stamping her foot, she flung the door open with a crash. Inside the orgy stopped dead. Extracating himself, her father rushed to the door and swept his daughter upstairs. Her protests were soothed by his promises to never leave her out of any gathering again. There would be no more orgies. His darling daughter would never be made to feel alienated again. He promised.

She received a pleasure barge and ten slaves to man it in recompense, but never forgot that the one thing that had made her parents neglect her was the temptations of the flesh. As she grew up, she learnt to use that power for herself. No. Lasari would never be ignored again.

Childhood

In the summer months, when she did not care to while her time away wandering the gardens of her parent's manse or beating her house slaves, Lasari would lie in her silk cushioned pleasure barge and be rowed around the river delta next to her home. Despite her slave-nanny Murthal's fretting, she had chosen this day to have the barge rowed further upriver than ever before. The sun was hot, and Lasari dozed as her slaves released pleasant perfumes into the air to hide the smell of the river. Glancing up, she saw something she had never seen before. People in ragged clothes and weary faces were using crude implements to cut down grasses near the riverbank. As the barge neared, some looked up, and were equally amazed by the golden pleasure barge gliding gracefully on the bank.

"Who are these filthy people," Lasari asked Murthal.

"Just peasants mistress," the slave replied, " Shall I raise the curtain?"

"Give me some jade, Murthal. I shall have them buy more beautiful clothes so they do not offend my eye so," Lasari ordered, and, receiving the jade, threw a handful onto the bank. She did not expect the reaction she provoked. The peasants rushed for the money, the stronger pushing the weaker aside in their desperation. From the scrum of fighting figures, a girl of about Lasari's age was shoved into the water. From there she was swept close to the barge by the current. When she grasped a rope hanging from the barges side, Lasari looked overand demanded her business and threatened to have the offending hand removed.

The girl, choking on riverwater, was about to let go. To be swept into the main current, when Lasari relented. "Have her brought aboard, Murthal. Perhaps she can do something entertain me. But if she damages my silks you shall be the one to pay."

Shortly after, the girl stood, dripping before the dynast girl. And looking up at her, Lasari realised there was something amiss. This wretched girl had the impudence to be pretty. Not only that but her features resembled Lasari's own. The water had washed away the dust and filth, revealing the unmistakable similarity. Disgusted that one such as this girl should dare to mock her so, Lasari reached forward and shoved the girl back into the water.

From the bank there was a shout of "No", and a bearded peasant rushed to the riverside. Lean and better dressed than the others, this man swam strongly out into the current to rescue the girl. As the barge drifted away, he stood watching it pensively. On board, Lasari beat her slaves until she felt better.

School

Lasari fitted in well at her primary school. True, she did not have a natural aptitude for book learning, but her natural competitiveness and charm won her manhy friends among teachers and pupils alike.

She had long forgotten the incident on the riverbank. It was not until her second year had finished and she was back at the manse that she had cause to be reminded of it, as a man stepped out from behind a rose tree in the walled gardens of her family manse. Nobody should have been able to breach the grounds' defences. This was obviously somebody to be wary of. The man had a full beard and stood taller than Lasari by a head. It took her a moment to make the connection with the filthy peasant, as this man was dressed in a well-cut, black, buff jacket and carried an ornate spear with a red jade head. Before she could think to call for aid, he beckoned her over to him, caling out, "Do not be afraid Tepet Lasari. I require only a few words. You are in no danger. Please, come."

Well, if he wanted her dead, the guards would not be here in time to save her, so she lifted her head, smiled serenely at the stranger and approached. What she learnt in the next few minutes shook her view of creation. The man called himself Laris, and claimed to be her true father. Claimed that his parents, unable to conceive for themselves, had adopted the child of a distant relation. That he could not have looked after himself and so had given her up to more wealthy and settled parents. Lasari was not sure how long their conversation lasted, but she was convinced by the truth of the man's words.

Her father returned each night for a month, trying to teach her two things on each visit. And when he returned the following summer and each summer after that, he persisted at his teaching the use of the spear and the cruel truth of the land they lived in. He decried the arrogant wealth of the dynasts with as much skill as he wielded his jade-tipped spear. But Lasari was too much part of that world. She learnt the art of the lance from him, but could never bring herself to question the luxury she lived amongst.

The visits only ceased when, at the age of fifteen, Lasari, in the midst of an exchange of blows and arguments exploded into a column of flame. Around her a thousand children's faces laughed in cruel mocking scorn. Filled with power and confidence like never before, Lasari lashed out at her father. "What do you know, old man? I will tell you: Nothing. You are a failure and that is why you argue against the Realm. A failure and a traitor. You have no wealth, no position, no admirers. I don't know where you go all year and I don't care. You have failed in your life and now you want me to fail in mine. Well I won't have it. You will not ruin my life like you have ruined your own."

Nodding his head once, her father turned and left, not even looking back. Too proud to admit she was wrong, Lasari watched him go while mocking faces corruscated about her.

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