Tributary

by Vivien Leanne Saunders

  “Why should you take up room in the carriage?” She demanded, “You’ve never come along before. Are you only going to work when it suits you?”

  I dropped a silk petticoat onto my bed and stared at the floor. For once, I hadn’t wanted to be left behind. I had dreamed of walking through the countryside and smelling fresh air, “I cannot work at all if you leave me behind.”

  “You can look after our rooms.” The old bitch returned, and grinned at me. There was a tooth missing at the side of her mouth. The hole it left was blocked with a bubble of spit. It was that more than her spitefulness that made me look away.

  At first, the wind blew the fetid air away from Guinn’s house. We burned braziers of scrap timber to perfume the air with cedar and apple smoke. When the wind changed we gagged and covered our faces with my silk scarves. The men looked rather dainty with pastel flowers wrapped around their heads.

  The town criers brought us news of the prince. His escapades had been interesting before he had met Clay, and now he was notorious. Every lunchtime Jonas and I braced ourselves to walk into the fetid marketplace and listen to the news. After three days we heard that they were making their way home. Jonas smiled ruefully at me and took my arm.

  “We’ll make tonight special.” He promised, but by the time we got back to the courtyard my head had started to hurt. I asked for some water, but there was only the filthy liquid from the river. Guinn brought me a glass of wine. The sickly sweetness made my stomach turn. I was violently sick.

  My friends tucked me into bed and then fussed around me like chickens. Guinn thought I was too hot, and Jonas thought I was too cold. Both of them thought I needed to eat. I ate obediently, but neither chicken soup nor thin porridge managed to stay down.

  “I know some cures,” I croaked, pressing my fingers to my aching head. “I just need my box. I have…”

  “Where is it?” Jonas asked immediately. I met his eyes, and he cursed. “Har, I can’t go into the palace. When Clay is not there I have no excuse.”

  “I don’t mean you.” I growled. “I have to be there before they get back anyway. Just help me get home.”

  “There’s no way I’m letting you…” The man started, but snapped his mouth shut when I glared.

  “We don’t have a choice.” Guinn agreed. “If she’s found here then…”

  “Then what? Is there something more dangerous waiting for Harriet than a deadly fever?”

  “Much more dangerous. Our dear rulers don’t look kindly on spies.”

  “Spies?” Jonas fired back, but I was already nodding.

  “A Siren wouldn’t grub around outside of a palace unless she was after something. If I’m found in Guinn’s house then they could make up any conspiracy theory they like. They’ll call him a traitor.”

  “What nonsense.” Jonas muttered.

  Guinn sighed and looked down at me, “What do you say, Harriet?”

  “Even without any conspiracies I’m in trouble. I can’t be found in a man’s bed.” I shuddered at the thought. Guinn nodded and pulled the blanket up around my ears.

  “Get some sleep, princess. We’ll wake you up before dawn.”

  When I woke up it wasn’t because they roused me. Sunlight was still streaming through the window. Bright stabs of pain flashed into my eyes like stars. I woke up retching, and missed the bedpan by several inches when I rolled onto my side. I heard footsteps, and a dark shadow pulled my hair back from my face.

  “You’ll have to stay in bed.” Jonas said. He sounded relieved. I forced myself upright and flopped forwards instead.

  “’m fine.” I mumbled, and then dived back for the chamber pot. My lover held my hair back even after I vomited all over his shoes, which was nice of him. I found a few words. “I just need… willow and brandy, and poppy tonic, and…”

  Altogether I gave my friends quite a list. I was too feverish to prepare anything properly, so I mixed everything into the brandy and swallowed it in one gulp. I had to sink my nails into my palm to keep myself from throwing it up, but when the opiates started to work my whole body relaxed. I lay back with a sigh.

  The light was agonizing. I covered my eyes with my hand. “Jonas, can you help me put on some of your clothes? When it gets dark we can pretend that I’m drunk and you’re helping me home.”

  Jonas turned pale. For a moment I thought he was going to argue with me, but then he clapped his hands over his mouth.

  “Oh hell, not you too.” Guinn sighed, and pointed at the bedpan. “I only let pretty young girls spoil my carpet. You’d better bloody well aim.”

  “I’m fine.” Jonas growled, and then his stomach emphatically proved that he wasn’t. I mixed up some more medicine for him with Guinn propping me up. He looked even worse than I felt! There was no way he was going to be walking across the city. By the time Guinn scooped me up to leave, my friend was fast asleep.

  “What if you get sick, too?” I asked Guinn as he carried me to Jonas’s room. He ruffled my hair and sat me down in an armchair.

  “Larva Flu hits us every spring. You can only catch it once. You’ll be fine, dear heart.”

  Guinn pulled some crumpled clothes out of the dresser. The opium was making me sleepy, but I dizzily marvelled at how quickly my life had changed. Six months ago I had never even spoken to a man, and now I was content to let one wash and dress me like a doll.

  “Poor Harriet.” He said, brushing back my hair into a man’s horsetail knot. “Are you ready?”

  My friend carried me as far as he could, but when we reached the market square we started drawing strange looks. He had to set me down. His arm was strong around my waist, and my feet barely touched the ground. Still, I struggled to move. Every false step I made was terrifying. I felt as though I would tumble to the ground and not be able to get up.

  We weren’t the only drunken revellers that night. It was the feast of some god or another – I had never bothered to learn their names. Puffs of incense and wine came from shrines on street corners, and every public house was full of light and song. The sour stink of dancing bodies made me vomit into the gutter.

  When we finally reached the palace the gate was closed. I felt tears sliding down my face. I would have to talk my way in past the guards. I could barely breathe.

  Guinn stopped in the shadows and let me get my breath back. He pulled my thin cloak from his knapsack and wrapped it around my shoulders. “You’re nearly home. Be brave.”

  I nodded, reeling back dizzily against the wall. Guinn helped me to straighten up, and kissed my forehead before he let me go. “I’ll look after Jonas.”

  “He’ll be worried about me.” I mumbled. “Don’t let him…”

  “If he looks like he’s going to break into the palace, I’ll nail his feet to the floor.” The man promised. I smiled shakily and drew a deep breath.

  The twenty steps from the shadows to the gate were the most difficult ones of my life. When the soldiers stopped me my legs shook so much I thought I would faint.

  “Let me in,” I could barely speak above a whisper. They brought their lanterns closer and peered at me. The smell of burning oil made me gag, but I swallowed and stood straighter. “My mistress sent me to market to make ready for her return. Let me in.”

  “It’s the Siren maid.” One of them muttered, and then he leaned closer. A wicked smile crossed his beardless face. “You smell of liquor, girl.”

  I pressed my icy hand to my forehead. It was easy to sound pathetic, “I… I don’t get to have fun when she’s bossing me around. Don’t tell her.”

  They glanced at each other, unsure what to do. The first guard moved closer to peer into my eyes. I was hoping he would get the fever, if I’m honest. Then the first man dragged his comrade back and took my shoulder.

  “Our captain is just as strict.” He confided, guiding me through the gate. He frowned at the sight of my diluted pupils and waxen skin. “Do you need help getting back to your room, miss?”

  I let out a sob and clutched a
t his arm, and let the world spin around me. I think I was unconscious before he caught me. All I could remember was falling.

  CHAPTER 15

  Dahra raised the burning blade above my arm.

  The hairs tickled as they curled up and burned. I was giddy with the sleeping drug, but not quite asleep. The Siren’s eyes looked like an insect’s – black and shining in the candlelight. An old woman with a sweet name looked down at me and her teeth were as black as Dahra’s eyes. I trembled as waves of pain throbbed from the snakebite in my palm.

  “Is there any way to save the hand?” The old woman asked.

  “The infection is getting worse. If it gets into her blood she’ll die.” Dahra spoke flatly, and did not look down at me. “This way, she’ll live.”

  “Still, it might be worth the risk. Take another day to see if the infection spreads. She’s a pretty thing, and she’ll be as good as useless if we…”

  “She’s not going to die.” Dahra shoved the blade into my skin before the old woman could finish her sentence. I felt heat tearing into flesh, and then horrible friction as the serrated blade sawed through the bone. I screamed and arched up from the bed, but before I could writhe away it was all over. The old woman tutted between her teeth as the Siren pressed a branding iron onto the wound to seal it. I lolled back, half fainting. I was too frightened to close my eyes. My unfocused eyes saw the old woman sliding my hand into a cotton bag. The white fabric blossomed into red flowers. That was the moment when I knew I would not be getting my hand back. I whimpered and tried to reach for it but my arms were still tied to the bed.

  “Do you want to keep this?” the old woman waved the parcel mockingly at Dahra. Then she looked down and brushed my sweat-stained fringe out of my eyes. “The girl really is lovely. Sometimes men have odd tastes. There’s no reason why we couldn’t retrain her.”

  “No.” The Siren wiped drops of blood from her forehead and her dark eyes lingered over my shivering body. “It’s finished. Don’t flaunt her in front of them for… this.” she snatched the cotton parcel and roughly shoved the old woman’s hand away from me. My hair fell back over my eyes as Dahra turned away. “I’m going to bury it.”

  “Go. Feed your plants.” The woman growled. Dahra flinched, and for a second it seemed like she was going to strike the crone. Then she shrugged and turned away.

  The old woman turned back to me and snatched my mutilated arm up in her dry hands. I keened and tried to pull away, but she held on tightly and shook it until I dragged my head up, and…

  Dahra raised the burning blade above my arm…

  “Harriet!” Clay wrapped her long fingers around my head when I fought to open my eyes, “Wake up, Har. Please, you have to…”

  I was in my bed in the palace, and the door to the courtyard was closed. I could hear angry voices.

  “Who was it?” Clay demanded. I tried to swallow, but my throat was too swollen. The Siren poured out a glass of water so clumsily that the jug shook in her hands. As I gulped it down she kept pressing me for answers: “Was it someone in the market? Or someone here? Was it…” She leaned closer and lowered her voice, “…your friend?”

  “I don’t understand,” I croaked. Clay snatched the glass away from me and threw it against the wall. The sharp noise made me clutch my head in agony.

  “Did you eat it, or was it a drink? It’ll help us know what kind of antidote to make.”

  “Antidote?” I whispered, and then doubled over as my stomach twisted. I had nothing left in me to vomit. I forced back the pain and managed: “It’s not poison.”

  “Look, we don’t have to tell anyone who he is. Not if you don’t want to. We can just say it was a stranger, or…”

  “It’s a fever.” I buried my face back into the pillows, “Couldn’t the doctors tell?”

  She did not answer. I understood: it hadn’t even occurred to the Siren to ask for a doctor. Well, if you ask a chef what makes people happy, he thinks of food. If you ask a Siren what makes people sick, she thinks of poison.

  “I want a doctor.” I groaned. Clay’s bony fingers rested on my shoulder.

  “It doesn’t look like a fever. Dahra knows about them. She said it isn’t.”

  “She only knows about the island! I’m sick, Clay. I haven’t eaten anything. I want a doctor.”

  If I had known what was going on in the next room I would have been terrified. The courtyard was full of soldiers. Dahra had disappeared into her own room to dig out every remedy she had brought from the island, while Miette flapped her arms at the Altissi trying to make them leave. Why were the guards there? Coluber said that they were protecting us. A Yangetti woman had been poisoned and her assailant was still at large! Miette said that the Altissi were protecting themselves. The Siren had been attacked. Who knew what shape their vengeance would take? One of them had killed a man just for throwing an egg.

  The noise hurt my head. I desperately wanted the world to be dark and silent. I gave up trying to tell Clay the truth. Instead, I told her that the only person I would talk to was Prince Coluber. Clay shot me a dark look, but she did not dare cross her paramour.

  Coluber must have run through the palace, because he appeared almost as soon as I fell back asleep. He loitered by the doorway with his servant and averted his eyes until I was composed. I beckoned him over.

  “Have you had Larva Flu?” I asked hoarsely. His eyebrows flew up before he nodded. I could not mistake the pure relief in his eyes. He sat down beside my bed and gestured for the servant to leave us alone. I wriggled a little further away, which he did not miss.

  “Are you doing that because you think I’ll get sick, or because you’re afraid your runny nose will shock me?”

  “Both.” I croaked, and covered my coughing fit with my hand. He waited for me to finish.

  “You’ve got everybody in a state They all think there’s an assassin out there. How did he give you Larva Flu?”

  “Blame Clay. She left me behind.”

  “Ah yes, the ever-generous Lady Clay.” He shared a secret look with me and lowered his voice. “I don’t think she’s ever heard the words Larva Flu before in her life. I would like to know where you learned them.”

  “The servants…”

  “You don’t know how pathetic that lie is, so I’ll stop you from making it.” He laughed, learned back and dug a cigar out of his pocket. When he struck a match the bright flame made me flinch. He apologised and treated me to a long puff of toasted smoke before he waved out the flame. “In the palace we call Larva Flu ‘Shallow Fever’. Whoever taught you those words must have spent time grubbing around the river districts while the maggots hatched. That’s where it comes from, you see. The filthy things drink the water.” His mouth set, and I shuddered. He wasn’t talking about the insects; his ‘filthy things’ were the men and women he ruled.

  “I had nothing to do while you were gone, so I went down to the market.” I kept babbling, and finally dredged up some tattered shred of the story Guinn had invented. Coluber took another puff of smoke and let it trickle out of his nose. The sour smell made me feel dizzy.

  “Of course! The market.” He looked around my empty room without a shred of sincerity. “Look at all the lovely things you bought!”

  “I just wanted to look.”

  “Yes, I suppose compared to the horrors of the Siren Idyll my abattoirs must be wondrous.” He smirked and blew a smoke ring at me. “How close did you get to the peasants before your temperature started to rise?”

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Not really. I’m not allowed to smoke near my father’s steward, that’s all. He’s outside interrogating every food taster in the palace. It will take him a while, so we might as well keep talking.”

  “I don’t like you smoking here, either. Go away.”

  “You asked me to speak to you.” He reminded me pointedly, and tapped ash onto the floor. I think I was as surprised as Coluber when I snatched the cigar out of his hand and threw it into m
y bedpan. He gaped at me for a moment, and then started laughing.

  “I just want you to tell them that I wasn’t poisoned.” I said through gritted teeth.

  “No, of course you weren’t. But I cannot tell them what really happened. You want me to lie for you, don’t you? Tell me the truth first, and then we’ll make up some pretty story.” He smiled pleasantly and I felt my temper rise.

  “Do you think I’m ashamed of going to the market? Fine. I whored myself out to every oyster catcher I met until one of them caught a sniffle. Happy?”

  “What a shocking story! Are you really saying – forgive me for my bluntness, but - do you really expect me to believe there are oysters in the river?”