She spoke over her shoulder to a nearby servant Akub hadn’t seen. He came forward from the shadows and collected the bowl.
“By the time I make it back to the castle, they will be over, elder.” Kanton’s almost apologetic tone made Akub smile. He wore a rough brown tunic and threadbare pants that failed to hide his sleek muscular build and his broad shoulders.
“Convince Tate or Mary to provide you what provisions are left. Your payment would be hot, sweet bread, fresh from the kitchen. Use my name as currency.” Octiva winked at him and cackled. Her laughter sounded strange, and Akub realized it may have been because she hadn’t heard laughter, deep belly produced joy, in a long time.
“Yes, elder!” Kanton’s whole face changed at the mention of sweet bread. He dropped his gaze hardly a second after locking eyes with Akub.
“Off you go,” Octiva said.
“Yes, elder.” Kanton left with the bowl clutched in his hand.
“You mentioned evening meals. How long have I been asleep?” Akub adjusted the bed’s pillows.
Octiva sat on the edge of the single bed and folded her hands onto her lap. “You’re in the village. More specifically, in Kanton’s bedroom.”
“That boy?” Akub paused. She’d slept in his bed.
Octiva laughed dryly. “Hardly a boy. He’s a stable page and an escort. Patches will whip him into lean muscle, and before you blink, young Kanton will be a man.”
“Why am I here?” Akub noticed that her cloak and clothes had been removed. She’d been dressed in a long-sleeved, somewhat itchy gown.
Octiva picked up a poker and stoked the fire. “It was decided you couldn’t remain in the holding cells or the castle. We brought you here to recover. Your clothes were ill-equipped for the weather, so I removed them.”
“Zykeiah agreed to this?”
“The minister retired to her rooms as soon as she unlocked the cell’s door.”
Her tone communicated more than her words, but Akub didn’t press Octiva for more details.
“Thank you.” Akub couldn’t believe their generosity. “Why?”
Octiva turned to her. “You are not the only one to whom the goddess speaks. Veloris is changing, and like all growth, it is difficult.”
“What does the queen say of my… my judgment?” Akub flexed her fingers and found them sticky. Hota juice. Sweet and tart, but always sticky. “I need to wash my hands.”
“As soon as you are dressed and well, we will speak of your judgment.”
Akub didn’t like the sound of that but threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. Octiva left the room and return with a bowl filled with water and a towel tossed over her shoulder.
She placed the wash bowl on a table beneath a hanging piece of reflecting glass. Octiva handed her the towel as she walked over. She dipped her hands into the water, noting it was warm. Octiva came by the bowl and offered a sliver of soap.
Akub frowned and adjusted the blankets to starve off the chill. “It’s late in the evening.”
“’Tis indeed. You must rest.” Octiva folded her arms into her sleeves. She’d put her locked hair into a roll on top of her head. As she moved around the room, tidying up, she sang. Several times, she disappeared into the other rooms of the cottage before popping back into Kanton’s bedroom. Akub had slept the full rotation; her magick hadn’t recovered.
As if reading her mind, Octiva said, “The orb drained you. Ha, devoured you. Save your breath, your strength, and rest.”
Akub crawled back into the bed. How did Kanton sleep on such a sliver of fur and feathers?
“Where is Kanton sleeping?” Akub folded her arms beneath her head. The ceiling’s wood beams had been repaired with what looked like splotches of tree sap. Perhaps the young Kanton had done it himself.
“In the front room.”
“Elder, why are you being so generous?” Akub’s stomach rumbled in agreement.
Octiva came to the bed. With a wave of her hand, she levitated from the floor. She sat cross-legged beside Akub. She could feel the elder’s magick fold the space to support her girth. For the briefest of moments, Akub remembered her mother sitting beside her on the bed, rubbing her hair and telling her stories of their great-grands and adventures.
“Our pasts are pieces of our present, assembled by the Goddess Ana. Are some pieces sharper than others? Yes. More blunt? Yes. They create a tapestry of you, and we wear it as we travel through life, mending torn sections and drafting new ones.”
Akub crossed her arms. “I did vile things, elder. I wish to torch the entire tapestry, not drag it about my person, a scarlet warning to everyone I meet.”
“Forgiveness is an attribute of the strong, Akub. You were once the Devourer. You know strength.”
“I know destruction. Death. Betrayal. Those are not strengths.”
“Love. Altering the fabric, replacing older sections with brighter, colorful, more cheerful sections takes time, but first, you must decide the design,” Octiva explained.
Footsteps sounded moments before Kanton appeared. He raised a bowl, still steaming, high into the air. “Still hungry?”
“Yes!” Akub shouted, and she bolted up to a sitting position.
Octiva laughed.
7
Facing the Queen
Akub awoke her third day on Veloris to Octiva’s shouting.
“Wake up! Come on! Get up!” Octiva swept from the room.
Akub threw back the threadbare blanket and shrugged out of the dressing gown. She snatched on the leather pants and black sweater Octiva had tossed on the bed. Hurrying, she scooped up the snow boots and put her feet into them. A little too big, they clopped as she walked. Left alone with Kanton presented an unwelcomed opportunity for awkwardness, so she stuck close to the elder woman as they exited the cottage on a trek back to the castle. A single male’s housing lacked the creature comforts of a woman’s. Well, by woman, she meant Zykeiah.
The worn, beaten path that led from the minister knight’s East Hall to the servants’ quarters had etched itself into the ground thousands of rotations prior to this time. The early morning sun hid behind dense, gray clouds. She couldn’t see the sun, but she didn’t need it. Its brightness reflected off the snow.
Once they reached the castle, they made a left into the East Wing Hall. Already the aroma of food hung like invisible curtains in the corridor. The morning sun, streaming through the various windows and into the hall, provided plenty of illumination for the day’s meal. The East Wing Hall sat in relative quietness. Just off to the right of the entranceway, a small fireplace lazily heated the open room.
“Let us eat morning meal before the day commences.” Octiva sat down at the table closest to the hearth.
Kanton rubbed his hands together and sat down across from the elder. Akub sat beside her and placed her hands out toward the flames. Stiff with cold, her fingers stung as if the ice complained at being warmed. Until she sat down in the East Wing Hall, she hadn’t been hungry.
“What you having?” a waif of a young woman with two plaits on either side of her head asked.
It spooked Akub, and she shot out of her seat.
“Katya!” Octiva grabbed Akub’s shoulder and guided her back down into her seat.
“Forgive me,” Katya whispered in horror, her color paled as she rushed to the table.
“Next time, come around to the front of the table.” Octiva gestured.
The servant smiled. “What can I get for you?”
“Boiled hencken eggs, two, and a few of those potatoes from Saturn Four, a mug of milk, and several portions of roasted rabbit.” Kanton grinned.
Katya scowled. “Kanton…”
Octiva waved her off. “He’s growing and young. He works the stables and needs his strength, Katya. That must be fed. I will have porridge.”
Katya shook her head, but then looked to Akub. “For you?”
“Whatever the elder is having.” Akub had no idea what the menu consisted of having never been to
the ice planet.
“You’d have tea as well?” Katya inquired.
“Yes.”
“Be right back with your meal,” she confirmed, already walking toward the kitchen.
Octiva grinned and thanked her.
Several minutes swept by, and Akub pondered the purpose of her return trip to the castle.
“Thank you for allowing me to stay at your cottage, Kanton.”
Kanton’s thick black hair had been pulled back and tied at the base of his neck. His well-worn tunic had small holes. Despite his position as stable hand, Akub noted a sharp intelligence in the young man’s ocher eyes. He took in much and probably saw many things others missed.
“The elder has done much for me, and I don’t mind helping her when she asks.” He glanced at Octiva, who appeared to be in mediation, before returning his attention to her. “I don’t have any family except for Curt, my friend. My mother left for another kingdom when I was younger, and my father has cleared on.”
Akub’s heart pinched. “I’m sorry.”
Kanton shrugged. “Don’t be. I’m happy for the company.”
“Here you go.” Katya arrived with her arms filled with bowls. Behind her was another young woman, with freckles and locked dark hair. She also had arms filled with bowls, and two mugs in her hand, one in each fist. Together, they placed the food onto the table, and Octiva sorted out the portions to each of them.
“Thank you, Tate and Katya,” Octiva said graciously and tore a section of bread.
“You’re welcome, elder.” Tate smiled.
Without waiting for comment, Kanton stuffed a piece into his mouth and chewed. In another breath, he crammed in two hencken eggs. He chased the food with a sip of milk from his mug.
“Slow down there!” Katya called from behind him, nearly forcing him to choke.
Kanton hurried to swallow as she walked toward the hall’s entranceway. “Katya! You nearly killed me!”
Octiva suppressed a laugh. Akub smiled, too. Clearly, Kanton couldn’t see the young servant fancied him.
“You’re the one scarfing down bread. We have plenty, you know,” Katya shouted back.
Octiva laughed then and signaled Tate over to the table. She bent down, and Octiva whispered into her ear. As soon as she was done, Tate rushed off toward the kitchen.
“Eat, Akub. We have much to do,” Octiva said with a slight grin on her face before lifting the bowl to her lips and eating.
Akub wondered what that meant but kept her thoughts to herself. She’d been in new territory, and although she didn’t completely trust Octiva, she didn’t have a choice. Both Kanton and Octiva had been kind to her, considering what she’d done, but so much remained unresolved.
* * *
After morning meals, Akub and Octiva left the East Hall. Octiva’s feet fell in hushed steps across the path that led down the hallway and up the spiraling steps to the queen’s quarters.
Akub slowed. What was the elder’s purpose for this?
She could hear soft voices emitting from farther down the hallway and around the bend.
Octiva stopped at the top of the stairs. “Come.”
Akub hesitated.
The armed guards barred her entry, forcing Octiva to stop outside the queen’s chambers. Akub waited a short distance behind her.
“No one’s to see the queen.” The guard’s voice trembled, and he avoided Octiva’s gaze.
The second guard unsheathed his sword and pointed it at Akub’s chest. “Halt! You attacked the queen!”
Akub held up her hands, palms out, and froze. As before, her hands burned as her magick sweetened. As the Devourer, she could force others to eat her words, and in turn, she bent their will. “Be calm.”
Octiva sighed as if bored. “I am the queen’s servant. It’s the morn.”
The dark-haired guard shook his head. “No one enters. Declared by Minister Marion.”
“I enter.” Octiva waved her hand, and he sheathed his sword, stepping back into his post.
The other guard kept his sword pointed at Akub. His eyes jetted back to the other guard and returned to them. He hadn’t moved an inch. Her powers must have waned.
“Um, elder?” Akub dared not move, the sword’s blade gleamed in the torches’ light.
Octiva looked over her shoulder. “Oh, yes. We enter.”
The second guard performed near identical actions as the first. His movement was disjointed as he fought against the magick. Octiva yanked open the screen and entered the queen’s bedchamber.
Octiva must have suppressed her power.
The outer room had been restored, everything set back in its place. Damaged furniture had been removed and replaced by similar-looking items. Octiva kneeled with her eyes closed beside the queen’s bed. She didn’t look up when Akub pulled the screen back and entered, her hands damp with anticipation. She came to stand at the end of the queen’s bed.
The early morn’s crisp cold waned beneath the sweltering heat. Octiva performed what sounded like a prayer. Normally, she stayed away from such things. After all the carnage she’d caused, she figured the goddess wouldn’t hear from the likes of her and didn’t care two oats for what Akub wanted.
Meditation helped clear her mind, but calling upon the goddess, well, that she couldn’t do. While she waited, she tried to make out through the curtains if the woman’s recovery had been completed. The pillows were positioned upright, and the queen’s silhouette lay back, but nothing more. Akub lingered near the fireplace. Memories of her fight with Marion and Sarah flickered through her.
“She is well.” Octiva slowly opened her eyes and rolled back onto her heels before standing up.
“Early morn, your highness,” she greeted her with a warm smile as she tied the bed curtains.
“Not good for some,” Queen Zoë replied, her voice thick and dry.
Octiva shot her a look of knowing. “That may be true of some. Yet the goddess does all things with wisdom.”
As she spoke, she secured the curtains with the silver cords, and the queen’s fragile body came into view.
“Octiva?” Queen Zoë called out, her weak voice barely hovering above the fire’s crackle.
“Yes?” Octiva offered her an exhausted smile as she knelt down beside her bed.
The queen’s once-sunken cheeks had fleshed out, and her eyes sparkled.
“You are well?” Akub asked with caution, as the possibility that she may not be squeezed her stomach. Once one was reincarnated into flesh, they may not be the same. The restoration used powerful and complex magick. It didn’t always go well.
“Yes, I am well.” She sat upright, adjusted the pillows, and stifled a yawn. “I slept through most of the evening. My stomach is full and free of pain.”
“Blessings be to the Goddess Ana.” Octiva smoothed the blanket over the queen’s body.
Positioned at the foot of her bed, Akub watched. She didn’t know why Octiva wanted her here. Akub wanted to leave, but Octiva gave a small shake of her head indicating for Akub to stay put.
“The room is very hot.” Queen Zoë looked down the bed to Akub. “The last evening must’ve been cold.”
“It must burn in here to draw out the burning inside your body,” Octiva explained.
“You’re the Devourer.” The queen nodded at Akub.
“Yes.” Akub crossed her arms and readied herself for the onslaught of questions.
“A former member of Valek’s network of spies and thieves; a weaver whose bloodlust devoured all common decency and compassion. Your reputation as a ruthless killer precedes you.”
“I killed no one.” Akub’s tone was sharp.
The queen’s cold gray eyes narrowed. “The Devourer ate the souls and trust of everyone she encountered. Many fell in battles, in the war, because of your efforts.”
Akub couldn’t deny those words. Some truths settled in uncomfortable pain in her memory and in her heart. No matter how much good she did, the sticky and oily stain covered her. Th
e stain is on the tapestry of her life. Her spirit would never be unblemished.
Octiva’s words about forgiveness echoed in her mind. Her actions had less to do with pleasing others than proving to herself that she could do righteous and good acts. When everywhere she went, her past as the Devourer preceded, and few gave her opportunities to be anything else, other than what they wanted—their bogeyman, their horror.
Akub would be those things no more. She threw off her tapestry of shame.
“Those deeds lie in my past, your highness. For many years, I’ve traveled and devoted my life to spreading goodwill.” Even to her own ears, it sounded as if Akub meant to justify her actions—as if anything she did could.
“My sons tell me you attacked me while I slept and tried to take me off world.” The queen folded her hands in her lap. “This is not goodwill.”
“Your son is here. I can feel his presence. Excuse me, my queen.” Octiva bowed and left the bedchamber. She stood in the outer room, listening and giving her own brand of wisdom to one of the knights.
The queen turned to Akub. “Do not stand there and stare. Tell me what happened. All of it, Devourer.”
Akub could see the older woman’s strength returning with rapid shots of life. Gone were the runny eyes and dry chapped lips. Whatever Octiva had given the queen, it had rejuvenated her. Just as she thought of Octiva, the servant appeared with a tray brimming with food.
“You must eat.” Octiva inched pass Akub and sat the tray down in front of Queen Zoë.
A bowl of gosha, two hard-boiled eggs, a potato, and three pieces of flat bread covered the tray. Queen Zoë selected a chunk of flat bread, rolled it around a hard-boiled egg, and took a bite.
“Delicious!” She waved to Akub. “Speak.”
Akub crossed her arms. “The oracle prophesied that an evil would arrive on Veloris and death…”
Queen Zoë nearly dropped her egg-flatbread combination. “A prophecy?”
“More a vision, your highness. In it, I saw desolation across the planet. Veloris no more.”
This time Queen Zoë really did drop her egg to the tray, along with her arm. With mouth ajar and eyes wide, she sat speechless. Once she recovered, she stated, “No. I’ve had no such vision.”
Devourer: A Minister Knight Novel (The Minister Knights Series Book 2) Page 6