Fearless as the Dawn

by Katie Roman

  Instead, she went to the bedside and held out the small wooden Huiki idol. It was stained a rusted brown color from Halia’s blood, but at one time it was precious to Aleka’s mother. Huiki was her patron goddess.

  “What’s this?” Deana took the small figurine in her hand, bringing it close to examine. “One of the Nareroc gods?”

  “Huiki, goddess of home and hearth. Normally, when a woman goes into childbirth, she prays to the fertility goddess Kiri; but since family is sacred to Huiki, I thought it was an appropriate gift.”

  Deana closed her hand around it and brought it to her chest gratefully. “Thank you, Aleka. Do you pray often to this Huiki?”

  Aleka shook her head. “My mother did. She carried this idol everywhere in her apron pocket.”

  As Deana looked again at the figurine, her face contorted for a moment. She looked as though she was putting together a puzzle. Now that she knew how fervently Halia prayed to Huiki, she must also realize what the unnatural stains in the wood were. She said nothing about it, though.

  “Aleka, go to my bureau and look inside.”

  Aleka did as she was told and opened the large oak bureau. Inside, she found her violin case.

  “I had Edward bring it up. I thought you could play, if you wanted to, that is.”

  “My lady, thank you.” Aleka removed the violin from the case and set to tuning it. “You are a good friend, and I’m sorry for ever saying otherwise. I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused.” This apology felt more natural than the one she’d rehearsed, and Aleka was happy to have this cathartic moment with Deana. She felt lighter having said something.

  Deana smiled. “It won’t always be as it is now, you’ll see. I was hoping you might indulge me,” she said as she toyed with the Huiki idol.

  Aleka tuned the A string, feeling a lightness take over as she handled the smooth wooden instrument. “What would you like to hear, my lady?”

  “A lullaby, I think. Something gentle to calm my nerves.”

  Aleka nodded and finished tuning. When she was ready, she settled the violin under her chin. She hesitated just a moment as she brought her bow to the strings.

  Deana lay before her in her night dress, her hair tied up in a tangled mess at the top of her head. Small beads of sweat broke out on her forehead and upper lip. She had dark circles under her eyes and her stomach bulged under the blankets, yet she looked remarkably calm.

  “Are you afraid?” Aleka asked.

  She had always heard horrendous stories of the child bed; tales filled with blood and death, tales where mother and baby perished from some malady or from an unclean healer or midwife’s hands. Tales of pain and screaming, only to deliver something already dead into the world. Halia feared going through the ordeal again, yet in this moment, Deana didn’t look frightened. Aleka knew that if she were in her position, she would be terrified. The very thought made her stomach clench in fear.

  “A little,” Deana confessed, looking up towards the ceiling. “I trust in the midwife and the priestess healer. I also believe in the goddess, Kamaria, and now,” she played with the idol, “I have hope that your Huiki will help see me through this, too.” She smiled.

  Aleka began playing, picking a lullaby Halia used to sing. The song told the story of a mother taking down the stars so her children would always have light. After Aleka had played it all the way through once, she stopped to sing it in Narerocish. Her tenor voice filled the room, bouncing off the walls. She stopped as soon as the midwife stepped back in to check on Deana.

  “Such a lovely voice,” she commented as she shut the door quietly behind her. “How are you, my lady?”

  As the midwife lifted the blanket that covered Deana, Aleka beat a hasty retreat, deciding not to intrude on something so private. She spent the next few hours assisting the midwife, healer, and Amelia. Aleka brought clean towels, water, tea for the midwife, and even played a few more songs at Deana’s behest. Aleka and Amelia sat in the hall much of the time, waiting to be called. After a long while, they heard Deana’s grunts and the midwife’s muffled instructions, and eventually a baby’s wail.

  “What a set of pipes!” Amelia exclaimed.

  The door opened sometime after the baby was brought into the world, and the midwife came out. “You.” She pointed to Amelia. “Come with me, dear. And you.” Now she looked at Aleka. “Are wanted inside.”

  “What a surprise! The duchess is summoned,” Amelia said sarcastically before going off with the midwife.

  Aleka entered the room to find the silent priestess healer swaddling and cleaning the wrinkled baby. She smiled at Aleka.

  On the bed, Deana was a sweaty mess, but she offered a weak smile. “It’s a girl,” she said, tired pride in her voice. “Would you like to hold her?” Deana nodded to the priestess, who gently put the baby in Aleka’s arms.

  She showed Aleka how to properly hold the baby and then patted her shoulder. Aleka stared down at the pink newborn.

  “Have you thought of a name?”

  “I quite like Anita, after my mother.”

  “It’s a lovely name, Deana,” Aleka said, dropping formality for the moment. She looked into the scrunched up blue eyes of the baby.

  The priestess washed her equipment in a water basin. Aside from the sound of the splashing water, a pleasant silence pervaded the room. Aleka was lost in the eyes of the baby, who just looked up at her calmly.

  “What is the meaning of this?” The Admiral stood in the doorway, his presence chasing away the pleasant moment. “Why is that servant holding our child?”

  Sensing the edge in the Admiral’s voice, the priestess took the baby from Aleka and whisked the newborn from the room with a polite bow. As the door closed with a click, Aleka felt dread settle over everything like a fog.

  “I will only ask one more time: why was she holding our child?” His eyes and tone bespoke fire and death. Aleka swallowed hard, moving closer to Deana’s bedside, as though she could protect her.

  Deana hoisted herself up into a sitting position, replying defiantly, “I thought it was only right that our child’s sister be allowed to hold her.”

  Aleka dropped her gaze to the floor quickly, but still managed a sidelong glance at the Admiral. She could see his chest rise and fall and hear his deep breaths, but she dared not make eye contact. How did Deana know? And how long had she known? No one talked about it. It was an accepted fact, but not one to discuss openly.

  The Admiral said nothing. Instead, he turned on his heel and stormed out. The calm Aleka felt with the baby was replaced with a cold tension. From the first floor, she heard the door slam. What was once a happy occasion had suddenly turned dark.

  It was only a matter of time before the midwife and priestess returned. Aleka had to act fast.

  “You knew?” she asked, and began to pack away her violin.

  “Lady Ghilian told me before we were married, and I chose to ignore the fact that his first child served in the house of his parents with her mother. The incident occurred long before I met the Admiral, and he’s not the only man to have a past. Though, I was always curious how they even met.”

  “The Admiral was once stationed off the coast of Uyn Struit on the Nareroc Islands. My mother worked in a tavern there. The way my mother told it, they spent the better part of a year together. He was promoted and a few months after he left, I came along. She contacted him and he would send some coin, but he wanted nothing else to do with us. I think he felt duty bound to at least make sure I had food. Lady Ghilian eventually found out and began writing my mother.”

  “Lady Ghilian told me your mother wished to come to Glenbard, but could not afford it. So she and Lord Ghilian paid for the voyage so their first grandchild would be close and struck the deal to educate you in exchange for Halia working two indentureships. Even if Edward would not acknowledge you, they could at least provide a future for you. When I first married him, I thought it odd, almost insulting, but Lady Ghilian pointed out he wasn’t the first
to sire a common born child and so long as the affair was over, it shouldn’t matter.”

  “How romantic,” Aleka said, huffing out a breath.

  Deana shook her head, smiling sadly, her eyes heavy lidded. “It is the price I pay for marrying well, I suppose. After your mother’s death-”

  “Murder,” Aleka corrected.

  “Murder,” Deana agreed, not bothering to fight it. “What happened was done in a drunken rage; a grievous mistake, and you are owed more than you received. You are my step-daughter, Aleka, whether anyone else acknowledges it or not. It’s why I purchased your indentured papers. I couldn’t buy them out right, but I could bring you here. You are my child’s sister, which means you are my family.”

  Just then, the priestess came back in with the baby. Aleka stood still, awkwardly staring down at Deana.

  “Family,” she repeated. Deana had said the word before, but Aleka didn’t take it seriously. She assumed it was just something highborn ladies said to seem more approachable to their servants.

  “Yes, Aleka.” When the baby was placed in her arms, Deana bared her breast to feed without a thought to modesty. She no longer looked at Aleka, and as a matter of fact, she almost forgot she was there. All her attention was on the newborn.

  “Thank you, my lady,” Aleka said and left the room.

  ~*~*~

  Aleka slept curled in a ball, hugging a pillow to her chest. Family. Deana’s words danced around in her dreams. Aleka never thought of Lord and Lady Ghilian as her grandparents. Benefactors, certainly, but not family. And she had absolutely, never seen the Admiral as her father. His blood may run in her veins, but Halia was the only family she had. Aleka never needed anyone else. Halia was gone though, and Deana offered some comfort.

  Deana was trying, in her own way, and Aleka knew it. She certainly couldn’t have brought Aleka into the family openly, but she did let Aleka play her violin and visit Halia’s grave, all heedless of the rage of the Admiral. She didn’t have to show any kindness to her husband’s bastard, and yet she did. Family…yes. Deana could be family to Aleka. It was a pleasant thought Aleka carried into sleep with her.

  The door to her room flew open, startling Aleka awake. In the bed next to her, Amelia struggled awake, too. A shadowy figure stood in the doorway. As Aleka’s eyes adjusted to the dark, she saw it was the Admiral.

  “My lord!” Amelia pulled her blankets up to her chin.

  He ignored her and fell to his knees, rooting under the bed. In an instant, Aleka knew exactly what he was looking for. He found it right as she kicked off her own blankets.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t return it, but you weren’t home and I didn’t dare go into your study without permission!”

  She now stood toe to toe with the Admiral as he held her violin case. She smelled the whiskey coming off him in waves and her nose burned at the smell. She remembered it from the night he stabbed Halia. It nearly made her gag.

  He growled deep in his throat and turned to leave. He opened her case, pulling out the violin and carelessly flinging the empty case into the hall. Aleka fell into step behind him.

  “I’m sorry!” she cried after him. “I never said anything to her!”

  He went into the sitting room, where a fire blazed in the hearth, a fresh log resting on top. Aleka could see that it hadn’t yet been engulfed in the flames.

  “I’m sorry!” she wailed again, dread placing an icy hand on her heart. “I swear I didn’t come into your home with the purpose of upsetting you!”

  The Admiral looked at her, his eyes barely focusing in his drunken state. He was unsteady on his feet, but wicked purpose propelled him and he would not be deterred. He turned back to the fireplace and pitched her violin into the flames.

  Aleka shrieked and dove for the fire, but the Admiral caught her and threw her back. She stumbled and fell to the floor, but the pain from falling hard on her knees was nothing against the splintering feeling of her heart breaking into a thousand pieces. She felt as though a piece of her soul was burning.

  “No!” she screamed and crawled for the fireplace, but the Admiral stood in her way. “No! You monster!”

  Aleka watched as the flames licked around the sides of her violin. I can still save it if he’ll just move! She screamed and cried, clutching at his pant leg futilely. “Please! Don’t do this! It’s all I have left of my mother!”

  Hot tears rolled down her cheeks and mucus poured out of her nose. She climbed to her feet but the Admiral blocked her, holding out his arms to keep her away from the fire. She tried to beat her fists against his chest, but he grabbed her by the wrists.

  The violin burned, and Aleka was powerless to stop it. She cried and screamed her impotent rage in Narerocish. Time moved slowly around her as her beloved instrument succumbed to the flames. Finally, the Admiral let her go. He grabbed a bucket of water and tossed it on the flames, filling the room with smoke. It gagged Aleka and she fell to the floor.

  “Open the windows, Baxton,” the Admiral said dispassionately. “Air out this room.”

  Aleka was aware of someone moving by her. Upstairs, the baby cried and footsteps made the floorboards creak. But all Aleka could focus on was the burned shell of her violin. She sat on the floor, face in her hands, sobbing.

  Part II

  Bitter as the Night

  Chapter Eleven

  Aleka felt every muscle in her body protest to being dragged from bed, and her eyes refused to open and face the day. As long as she stayed under her blankets, everything would be fine.

  “Come on, duchess.” Amelia shook her gently. “It’ll only be worse if you stay in bed.” In the past three weeks, Amelia’s tone and attitude toward Aleka had softened, although all her kindness was born of pity. They both knew it, but Aleka was grateful Amelia never tried to offer hollow words to make Aleka forget her sorrows.

  “I can’t, Amelia,” Aleka said from beneath the safety of her blankets.

  The Admiral had been working Aleka to the bone. She was confined to the house, scrubbing every floor once a week, handling the heavy laundry and burning her hands in the hot water and lye, fetching water, sometimes even chopping firewood. Any job that would exhaust her, the Admiral assigned to her. He kept her under near constant surveillance and banned Deana from seeing her. Aleka often heard baby Anita crying, but it was a distant world. The warmth of Deana’s friendship was nothing more than a dream now.

  Her fantasies of running away to a life of crime were gone; replaced with a need just to get away from the Admiral. Even if it meant leaving in a pine box like Halia or in flames like her violin, Aleka only wanted out.

  “Get up, duchess,” Amelia repeated, pulling away the blankets. She handed Aleka a bowl of almonds coated in cinnamon. “To give you some energy,” she offered.

  Aleka thanked her and ate without tasting the food. She dressed as she chewed, pulling on the gray servant’s dress, feeling the scratchy linen fabric scraping against her sore body. She followed Amelia to the kitchen to take part in the servants’ breakfast while outside, the day had barely begun. Everyone ate their oatmeal and berries with cream in a sleepy silence.

  The food settled in Aleka’s stomach like a stone. She ate spoonful after spoonful mechanically, never really tasting it. Her fingers itched to hold her violin and not a spoon. Her heart called out for her mother’s laughs, not the oppressive quiet of the Admiral’s household. Her soul demanded the music that had been ripped from her, not the clink of tea cups against saucers. She longed to be wrapped in the warmth of Deana’s kindness and to look into the innocent eyes of Anita, to be with all she had left of a family. Aleka could always feel a scream itching at the back of her throat, struggling to get out, but she pushed it all down. The torrent inside of her moved like a whirlwind and she feared to open her mouth and vocalize her hurt and wants. Anything she loved would only become a weapon the Admiral could use against her. The charred remains of her violin were proof of that. So she performed her duties without complaint because she�
�d learned it did no good to fight.

  “Lord and Lady Ghilian are coming today,” Baxton said as he finished his breakfast.

  They’d come almost every day since Anita’s birth, although Aleka hadn’t been allowed to see them. Which was just as well, since she didn’t want to.

  “Amelia, see to the dusting as soon as breakfast is done. Bennet, my lady has sent a request for one of your berry cream pies. Aleka, Admiral Ghilian is waiting in his study with instructions for your day.”

  The stone in Aleka’s gut expanded and she pushed away her half-eaten breakfast. Her weak appetite entirely washed away at the thought of attending the Admiral.

  “I’ll go now.” The sooner she faced him, the sooner it would be over.

  ~*~*~

  Since Deana had insisted Aleka was Anita’s sister, the Admiral had been colder than ever. Aleka had to see him each morning to get her list of duties. He had Baxton or Amelia watch her when he couldn’t, but all of Aleka’s fight was gone. She moved about in a haze.

  When she finally stood before the Admiral’s desk, her eyes focused on the papers that were spread in front of him. They had a crowned anchor on them, the seal of the royal navy. The Admiral had his own admiral’s seal and special wax out, ready to use. All four of the royal admirals had identical seals and when the Admiral retired, his would pass on to the next. He kept the seal on him at all times, just to prove his rank over everyone else. He wasn’t just receiving orders, he was still giving them, even though he wasn’t out to sea. Aleka looked at the gray anchor, its simple design, its ability to drop and sink, keeping large ships in place. Something so simple, yet so powerful. Aleka felt like she wore one around her neck.

  “Wake up,” the Admiral said. His voice was stern, but not cruel.

  Aleka hadn’t seen the drunken monster who killed her mother and burned her violin again. He had reverted to his normal stern and cold self, but Aleka remembered the flames in his eyes and the stink of whiskey that ripped down her world.