by Clare London
“It won’t happen overnight,” she whispered. The flush on her cheeks was like a young girl’s. “We must continue to live as the city demands. But there are other things the Exiles can teach us—other information and skills to be shared by citizens who live there, but may return. There’ll be conflict, and yet there will be challenge too.” She half closed her eyes, nestling her face against mine for a brief moment. “You’re the only man I know who is fit for this. The only one who’ll respond well to it.”
“At the Place,” I said, hesitantly, “I was afraid.”
“I like that.” She laughed softly. “It shows you have imagination and a respect for diversity. It’s a good basis. Courage is shown in the midst of fear, not in the midst of comfort.”
“I’m under investigation. The city will reject me.”
“But I’ll save you.” Her smile was confident. “It’s been agreed. I have the right to pardon a soldier of anything if I consider there are mitigating circumstances. I’m not a stranger to conflict, inside my own city as well as from invaders.”
“You have it all agreed. All arranged.” My voice was quiet, but maybe she heard a thread of argument in it still.
“Relax, Maen. I do indeed have everything arranged.” In her expression I saw triumph, and the knowledge there was potential ahead for great power. And a need for me.
I looked into her eyes again and felt myself sinking. “The boy….” My head was whirling.
“The boy?”
“Will you take Dax as well, Mistress? Will he have a place in your Household?”
For a moment she just stared. I wondered if she’d call Zander to her side, if she’d conclude our conversation.
“Dax has no worth to this Household, nor to mine.” Her words were calm, almost bored, but I knew she’d understand the impact of them on me. “He’s been contaminated, damaged. His Devotions have been interrupted.”
“So have mine.” My heart began to beat more quickly.
“But you’re already loyal to us, Gold Warrior.” She smiled again, but there was an edge of menace to her tone that chilled me. “He’s too young, and a danger to us all, regardless of anything that happened between you. His background has proved insurmountable. I doubt we will choose Remainder boys for training again.”
No! “What will happen to him?”
She frowned a little. She glanced at Zander, already restless toward me, I could see. “He’ll be executed. Luana has given the order, and I have authorized it.”
“Executed?” I was stunned. “The rules allow for exile, surely? There are precedents—”
“There has never been a precedent for a Bronzeman and such a Gold Warrior as you,” she interrupted. “For adventures such as yours.”
“No,” I said, aloud. “Pardon him.”
“What do you care?” Her voice was light and she smoothed at her gown, her movements apparently aimless. I suspected that nothing Seleste ever did was aimless. “He was just a toy for you. You have enough concern with your own life.”
“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” I was the toy, for the Mistresses who demanded my attention. I was the danger, the threat to equilibrium. And Dax was the focus of my devotion, not those Mistresses themselves. That was the true, most awful crime. “You’ve twisted the rules solely for your own purposes. Is this the price of my life?” When Seleste met my gaze, I made sure she could see the fury and determination in my eyes. “I will not accept it,” I said. “I’ll confess publicly to whatever’s necessary.” I drew myself up to my full height, holding my head as proudly as I could. “You must execute us both.”
“There’s no need for that,” Seleste said, her voice higher than before. “What are you trying to prove?”
“What my life means to me,” I said hoarsely, rashly.
She made a sudden gesture, and Zander stepped swiftly to her side. “Put him to his knees,” she snapped. The soldier pressed harshly on my shoulder and I allowed myself to be lowered. “Show me the mark,” she said. Her voice sounded breathless, though whether in excitement or anger, I couldn’t tell.
Zander’s hand grabbed roughly at my waist. I felt his strong, cool fingers inside the waistband of my trousers, and the awkward pull of fabric as he wrenched it down at one side. I knelt before the Queen-Elect, the bare flesh of my hip exposed to the room. The soldiers around us stirred again. I looked up to find Seleste’s gaze on me.
“I was told about your new brand, Gold Warrior.” Her eyes glittered.
I touched lightly at the Exile mark on my skin. It had healed to nothing but a dark slash of loop and script. Things were becoming clearer to me since I’d returned from the Exiles, since I’d learned of the other men in the world outside the city boundaries. And other women.
“Do you know this mark, Mistress?”
Her eyes flashed. “Of course not. But it’s obviously a bastardization of the Queen’s mark.”
“So it appeared to me too.” There was a pattern echoed in the border that mimicked the sophisticated style of the royal version. The brands on Dax and me had obviously been devised by Eila, born of her hatred of the city and the family that had nearly murdered her. I held Seleste’s gaze with mine. Her dark, volatile eyes darted from the brand to my face and back.
“It’s a mockery, Gold Warrior. A challenge from the Exiles.” Her voice shook with repressed emotion. You see that too, don’t you? her look said. I met that look. I challenged her myself.
“The boy has one too,” I said.
Her eyes widened. “The boy, the boy. Your persistence is most irritating. What do you want, Maen? You can’t have him.” There was an uncharacteristic plea in her voice.
“I know.” My voice was steady, but it was a huge effort to keep it so. I lifted myself to my feet again, without her express wishes. But she’d admired my new assertiveness, so she must tolerate it now. I stood at ease, with my head slightly bowed to her. There was so little left to me now, and I was about to risk it all. “I would still confess, even if it’s a lie, and die bravely.” I dropped my voice. “But I will go with you… if you first give me some time. I’m the servant of the Royal Household. We both know that. But I need time to take my leave, Mistress.” My actual words weren’t important, veiled in outward respect. The critical things weren’t being said at all, and hopefully they didn’t need to be. Seleste had always been a match for any sharp thinking of mine. She would understand these were my absolute terms.
We both breathed heavily. I could see the rich fabric of her gown rising and falling on her breast. The pale blue jewels of her necklace sparkled around her slim neck. She would wonder what I was up to, what harm I could possibly do with my limited time and resources. Whether it was worth the risk of allowing this boon.
“Mistress.” Zander’s imperious voice broke in. “Mistress, do you want the soldier taken to the cells as well?”
“Be quiet,” she said, and he blanched.
He looked between us again, humiliated and confused as to why his Mistress didn’t strike me down where I stood. He was young, of course. He’d need to develop a better knowledge of men to be an exceptional Gold Warrior.
“You have twelve hours, Maen.” Seleste’s face was still flushed. “That’s when I’ll leave this Household, and with you. Go where you wish, see whom you will, in that time. But you mustn’t bear arms nor give me reason to punish you further.”
“I understand, Mistress,” I said. “I’ll be ready.” I made the gesture of obeisance, palm to my heart, and moved backward out of the hall. Zander watched me go; so did the Silvers.
Seleste called to me as I opened the door. “Twelve hours, Maen. And then I will never let you go.”
Truly, I believed her.
Chapter Fourteen
“WHY ARE you here?” Mistress Luana stood at her writing desk and stared at me. I was flanked by two of her Silver Captains, but I still had the freedom of her inner office. She looked shocked: I think she imagined she’d never see me again. Did she think I�
�d be executed in the hall that very day?
I also wondered why I was there. Did I wish to give her one last chance to be the Mistress I remembered? I knew how much I’d respected her. How much I’d missed her when I was abducted, missed her company, her guidance, her wit. Even her pleasant, enjoyable coupling. But now I looked at her and I saw only a woman—one who was disturbed.
“Mistress Seleste tells me you’re with child.”
She flushed. “Did she? I find that indiscretion most distasteful, but the Queen-Elect takes the law unto herself in many ways.” She pursed her lips, perhaps seeking to bring her emotions under control. “In any case, the insult is past now. Yes, I’m with child. Though it’s nothing to do with you, soldier.”
“I care for my Mistress’s well-being—”
She turned on me at that. Her eyes narrowed with anger and she gripped the back of her chair for support. “You’re a hypocrite, Maen, and should be ashamed of it! You think to treat me differently because of my condition? That you might be able to show less respect, that I might be more lenient of your appalling escapades?”
“Never that, Mistress,” I said sharply. “I’ve only ever held you in the highest esteem.” I turned and stared at the Silvers beside me as if memorizing their features, until they shifted with discomfort. Then I looked back to the Mistress. “Are you so afraid of the change in me,” I said softly, “that you feel you need protection?”
She frowned and waved the Silver Captains back so our conversation might be private, though she gestured for them to stay by the door. I bowed my head slightly to her. “Thank you, Mistress. You mustn’t fear me.”
But her face paled even further. She shook her head, and her hand hovered defensively in front of her belly. “There are many reasons to fear you, Maen. You’re a criminal. Whatever you might have said to Seleste, whatever you made her believe.”
“No I’m not,” I said, but I suspected things had gone too far for there to be any true reconciliation. “It’s not for me to tell the Queen-Elect what to believe.”
I watched her struggle with her feelings, and her distress manifested in physical tremors. I’d once thought her the best Mistress a soldier could ask for. She’d brought me from boy to man in her service. She’d often made me laugh; she made me feel good. She made me hungry for her attention. A Mistress didn’t have to do that, there was no obligation to enchant a man during her own pleasure. But she so often had.
To serve her had been all I’d ever wanted. My ambitions had once been solely concentrated on her.
“You speak of Seleste with familiarity, I see. So she’ll bend the rules and take you for her own. Is that so?”
I hesitated but answered her honestly. “I’ll leave with her tomorrow, Mistress. The sentence that was placed on me has been lifted.”
“She pardoned you.”
“I confessed to no crime.” I couldn’t restrain the anger in my tone.
“You think I need official confirmation to know what you did?” She laughed, a little too loudly. “So you refused to tell either of us the truth. That’s enough of a crime for me.”
“To sentence me to execution? Mistress, I came back to the city to serve you, to be yours—”
“Stupid man,” she interrupted, her voice harsh. She rubbed almost absently at her belly. “You were his by then. In the service of your illicit lust. Soiled. Nothing but a rutting animal, and not worthy of the honor and gravitas of a Gold Warrior. You lost your reputation along with the careless loss of your precious earring.”
I didn’t wish to listen to this anymore. I didn’t deserve it, though I might have thought so in the past. I turned away from her, ready to leave the room. “I wish you only the best, Mistress. And for the child.”
“Wait!” She gasped behind me, and I paused. “It’s not for a soldier to pass such comments on a Mistress. What have you become?”
“It’s not of significance to you, I know,” I said quietly, “but the children are for the city. I treasure that, and I support that. This city and its welfare are my life.”
She moved then, coming to stand closer to me, and I turned back to face her. Her mouth was twisted by her abhorrence of my behavior, but there was confusion in her eyes. “Do you remember, Maen, I once said I might tell you if I’d borne your children? Didn’t you ever want to know?”
Was it a trick of hers, to tempt me to even further misbehavior? “It’s not for a man to know,” I said slowly.
Her sudden touch on my arm seemed conspiratorial, but I knew to be wary. The soldiers at the door stood steadfast, and there was no sense of imminent danger. I held my breath.
“There have been two already born, that I know are yours. A boy of around six, in the Central School now. Maybe one day he’ll be at the Choosing and bring honor to his Household. So may the one I carry now. This will be a boy. This will be the third child of yours.”
I was stunned. My gaze dropped to the floor, my head spinning. I hadn’t realized how the thought of a child connected specifically to me might feel! It roused unusual emotions: pride, joy, a stab of pain because I would never get to know them. I’d never have felt this before my time with the Exiles, before my time away from the city and my Devotions. Before I’d opened my heart to Dax.
Mistress Luana watched my unguarded expressions, and her face tightened.
“There’s a daughter too, Maen. A woman. A female. No soldier, but a potential Mistress. I never told you before—not that I need to. She was at the school too, though I’ve lost touch with her. She can be traced through her brand, should it be necessary. She’d be nine by now, maybe ten. Born soon after I chose you and brought you here. A few more years, and she’ll be ready to start training as a Lady.” She let her fingers trail along my wrist as she moved away again. “The Queen-Elect will never give you that, Maen.”
“You lost touch with the child. With the girl.” I didn’t know why I echoed it. It seemed important.
“She was weak at birth.” My Mistress shrugged carelessly. “She was never as beautiful or as strong as my other children. I passed them to the school as is the way, but I had no particular interest in this progeny. She looked too much like you.”
My gaze snapped up sharply, but she’d moved to face the window and was obviously concluding the meeting. “Go, Maen. I don’t wish to see you again.”
I bowed appropriately and backed away toward the door. On either side of me, the Silver Captains stood to attention again, announced by the clatter of their swords. My Mistress’s voice threaded softly behind me, no longer angry or distressed, just sad. “You were such a perfect Warrior, Maen. Such a perfect servant. But then, at the end, such weakness….”
I wanted to speak, but there was no point. I wanted to tell her that my weakness was a strength, and that I’d come to realize this because of my time outside. I wanted to tell her that I’d learned to treasure another person for themselves, for something more than physical satisfaction and the furtherance of duty. To tell her I was indeed a different man, but I was beginning to welcome it. That there were more models of man and society than the ones she clung to here in the city.
But then, perhaps, she already knew that and chose not to acknowledge it.
“Weakness,” she repeated, her back still to me. “And I won’t have that in my Household.”
THINGS HAD changed subtly since Seleste’s questioning of me. I expected to be accompanied everywhere by Royal Guards until I left the Household, but I’d been left alone ever since I was dismissed from the hall. I stood now outside my Mistress’s private quarters, alone and racked with confusion after my audience. The Guards watched me warily—some with naked curiosity—but none approached. I was an Exile here too. I had no men of my own to support me, no Mistress to protect me. The rumor might be spreading swiftly through the corridors that the Queen-Elect had selected me to be part of her Household, but all that achieved was to leave me in a strange, dispossessed place between belonging and barter.
I was no one.
I had nowhere to go. And there was only one place I wished to be.
No one spoke to me as I strode through the corridors of the Household, though many pairs of eyes watched me. How many people knew I’d been sentenced to death but then pardoned? I didn’t think it had ever happened before. I’d become an anomaly, a pariah. I had no place here now; I’d never be accepted back with any comfort, let alone made welcome.
I assumed Dax would be in one of the lower cells, deep in the Detention Quarters. That area was naturally secure, set in what had once been a basement grain-storage facility. The walls were of the sturdiest brick, and there was little natural light. It was usually patrolled by a couple of Silver Captains and maintained by auxiliary Remainders. There’d never been any need for more security than that. The cells were rarely used, for our Household’s subjects had always been very obedient and loyal. Minor misdemeanors were dealt with by the Mistress, and our Exile prisoners were held in a higher-profile, more fiercely guarded fortress beside the gates of the city. I believed the Remainders had their own prison facility within their area of the city.
After that, who else had we to incarcerate, except for disobedient soldiers? It was a depressing, lonely corridor of detention rooms. Few soldiers welcomed their tour of duty in such a forsaken place. Even fewer expected to be a prisoner there.
As I approached the facility, I saw less and less people. Soldiers were required elsewhere, apparently, and any Remainders shrank away from me and hurried about their work. The prisoners in this place had little contact with the rest of the city, for their captivity was enough to ostracize them from the rest of our civilized society. Hadn’t I suffered that exclusion myself? I was still shocked at the brutality of it. Inside me was a destructive urge, one that tempted me to turn on those who’d watched me on my way here and cry out a protest at my betrayal. I felt it as keenly as if they’d thrown me bodily from the city walls and bolted the gates behind me. But I didn’t seek out any further confrontation now; instead, I dipped my head like any anonymous citizen and entered the quarters without notice from anyone.