by Eboni Dunbar
“And what does Titus deserve? To continue to suffer as it has?
To have no one seek relief on their behalf?” Mercy said. “For the Champion of the realm you sure sound like an aint shit magli ready to desert her people.”
“But we can’t win, Mercy. My army is her army, they are sworn to her. She has mages. Mages plural. I couldn’t even keep her from throwing Sherrod and I in the dungeon. I couldn’t breathe.”
Aaliyah stopped, her chest heaving. She couldn’t breathe now. She closed her eyes.
“Aali,” Mercy whispered. “I’ve lost plenty of fights, Merc. I have. I don’t pick fights I don’t think I can win.” She opened her eyes. “Odessa has beaten me in every fight we’ve had since we were children. She doesn’t care about my feelings, she doesn’t care who she has to hurt to win. She’ll destroy all of Titus because I might have had the thought of taking her down. Drop it into the earth and then set it on fire. You, of all people, can’t be naive enough to think Odessa won’t hurt everyone to cause me pain. Hurt you. She’s already destroyed everything I built. She’ll burn the rest to the ground.”
Aaliyah wiped a tear away. She knew what her sister was capable of. The memories swirled in her mind: her tantrums, her fingernails digging into Aaliyah’s skin, the ultimatums over Mercy, and of course, throwing her into that cell.
Mercy closed the distance between them, grabbing Aaliyah’s chin and moving her face so they were looking in each other’s eyes. Aaliyah swallowed. Mercy relaxed her grip and let her thumb rub soothingly along Aaliyah’s cheek.
“Trying is never futile, Aaliyah. You believed that when you fought for your sister. No one thought you could do this. And look what you’ve done! You gave her the southern lands. People laid down their swords for you. They stood with you. When you believed, so did they. That army may claim an allegiance to the crown but it was only because you did. Believe again now, and fight for yourself and for the people of Titus. You have given her an empire she cannot run. She cannot keep it without your sword. And you can take it with your hand and with your word. You’re the reason people followed her and even if you lose, people deserve the right to choose which Queen they serve.”
“I’m just a soldier.”
“And I’m just a whore, a thief, and a murderer. The child of all three. But I still take care of my people,” Mercy said. “Think of it this way: you’re backing my play for Queen.”
“Will you rule?” Aaliyah asked. Mercy shook her head. “No, probably not. But you will fight for the person I believe should rule. You will go with me to Galavera and we will get the king to back us.”
“Why Galavera?” Mercy shrugged. “I have a little more clout there.”
“And what are you going to give him?” Aaliyah asked, searching Mercy’s face.
The shorter woman raised an eyebrow. Aaliyah tried to look away, but Mercy slid over to maintain eye contact. She smiled. “You let me worry about what we’ll offer the king. Understand?”
Aaliyah sighed. “I don’t deserve you.”
“But you do. You always have. You’ve just never believed it. There’s more to you then what’s Odessa’s. You don’t belong to her,” Mercy said.
She lifted up onto her toes and Aaliyah leaned down until their lips met. Aaliyah let her hand slide around the shorter woman’s waist and Mercy wrapped her arms around her neck. When Mercy lowered herself back to the ground and Aaliyah couldn’t stop staring at her mouth. She tasted like honey. The general lowered her head again and Mercy chuckled, allowing her mouth to be captured by Aaliyah’s tongue.
Mercy took a step back and took a deep breath. Aaliyah stepped forward, ready to chase her, but the ground beneath their feet roiled with a great cracking sound, like it was being pulled apart.. Aaliyah grabbed Mercy’s arm, trying to steady them both. Screams broke out in the camp but also in the city. No one was being spared.
The great wall that protected Titus grew, taller than Aaliyah had ever seen it. She must be acting in concert with her stone mages; even Odessa wasn’t powerful enough to raise the wall to such extraordinary heights. A cyclone of wind and fire whipped up behind the wall, the top of it visible from the river. Aaliyah’s heart stopped as the screams grew louder, carried on the wind.
Mercy tugged her back to the camp. “She definitely knows you’re out,” Helima said, climbing up onto her horse. Sherrod’s face was hard as he mounted a borrowed mare.
Blue held two saddled horses, one a chestnut bay and the other a black stallion. Both animals were skittish as Mercy and Aaliyah approached. Mercy threw herself on the back of the bay. Blue handed the reins of the black stallion to Aaliyah and she pulled herself up onto its back. She ran a hand lovingly down its neck to soothe it.
“Blue, camp’s in your care,” Mercy said. “I got it,” Blue said, with a slight bow. Aaliyah saw the little boy wrapped in a woman’s arms. He was crying but the woman was trying to calm him. She wasn’t sure she could do this, but she’d do anything for these kids to not have to live in fear. She looked at Blue and nodded. He reluctantly nodded back, she could see his feelings warring within him. He wasn’t sure she could do this either.
“Return with some backup, my Queen,” Blue said. The sound of the title made Aaliyah’s stomach go cold and her skin clammy. She nodded. Mercy spurred her horse and Aaliyah was grateful to get away from the beginnings of her responsibility.
The road to Galavera was not long but it was still perilous. Mercy would not allow them to put themselves in danger. They needed to avoid anyone with potential connections to the Queen: merchants, mages and soldiers alike. Avoiding all those people meant spending much of their time riding near the road but not on it. They were forced to stop at odd times, to wait out people and avoid getting too near other camps.
All the clandestine travel reminded Aaliyah of the story of how the southern lands came to be. The story went that when the world had been new there had only been three countries. The pale people of Oxnar, the golden people of Galavera and the deep brown people of Titus. They’d lived in harmony for years, moving easily between the nations blissfully. No one agreed on which nation started it but word began to spread that Oxnar wanted nothing to do with the other two nations and they were willing to go to war. Galavera and Titus, selfish little countries, began to prepare for war from both of the other countries. Why they didn’t band together had never been clear. A group of Titans, Oxnarans, and Galaverans decided they wanted nothing to do with the wars and strife of these large nations, and so in the night they moved large portions of the courts in secret to the south, forming the many small tribes of the southern lands seeking a place where they could live peacefully.
The war itself came to naught, but the physical separation that it fostered lived on. Despite that, their cultures were deeply influenced by the years of peaceful mixing. Galavera was still the jewel of their continent, magic flourishing within its borders and as common as air. The King was said to be hard but fair, powerful and kind. Aaliyah knew that if she’d brought the army of Titus there they would have battled valiantly but the King of Galavera would have crushed them mightily.
Why would he bother to aid her now when she had truly nothing to offer except her arm? A useless arm at that. Throughout the journey, Aaliyah couldn’t fight the overwhelming feeling that this effort wasn’t worth it. The King would send them on their way, or worse take them prisoner, to offer Odessa and gain her good favor. And the thought of what Odessa would do with them once she had them... Helima and Sherrod didn’t need that. They could have been living excellent lives at home, if they simply let Aaliyah sit in the dungeon. Odessa would have eventually let Sherrod go. Aaliyah kept her dark thoughts to herself.
She noticed that Sherrod was unusually quiet too. Aaliyah imagined he might be thinking the same things she was. She knew there were at least twenty girls back home he could be with. He could have been the General of Titus’s army. She noticed him avoidin
g her, staying at the edge of their camps and riding at the back of the line. For all his bravado, she would not have been surprised if he’d run back and begged for forgiveness. Helima was quiet too, but it didn’t bother Aaliyah because that was just her way. Even when they’d lived on the streets, Helima never voiced her disapproval or her happiness. She’d learned to keep herself carefully neutral. At strange moments, Aaliyah would catch her staring, studying. She had no idea what Helima could be thinking.
Mercy avoided her. She said she wasn’t, but every time Aaliyah tried to get her alone Mercy managed to find another task to accomplish. Aaliyah felt isolated and confused. For all the betrayal, she missed Odessa’s loving caresses and the long letters Odessa had written while Aaliyah battled for her. Here she was all alone.
“Eat,” Helima said when they stopped on the second day. Aaliyah accepted the portion of rations that Helima handed her and tried to focus on the texture of it in her mouth. “You look like a child.”
“You look like a child,” Aaliyah said and Helima rolled her eyes.“She’s not wrong, you did used to make that face a lot,” Mercy said with a mischievous smile.
“I meant to ask,” Sherrod said, picking at his own meal. “How do you all know each other?”
Helima looked at Aaliyah. They really hadn’t told him much about their childhood. Hadn’t felt it necessary. But if he was going to fight and possibly die with her, he deserved to know.
“You know the Queen and I were street kids,” Aaliyah said. Sherrod nodded. “My mother took Odessa on when her mother died in a brothel in the southern lands. But that didn’t last long. She left us at an orphanage when I was three. Couldn’t stand Odessa’s tantrums. She was powerful even then. Orphanage couldn’t give us much. So I started stealing.”
“She was bad at it. Obvious. My father thought it was funny,” Mercy said.
“Your father?”
“Prince of thieves. My old man ran the ‘Ville back in the day.” Mercy knelt beside the fire and stoked it with more wood. Sherrod’s eyes widened. He looked up at Aaliyah and then back down at the flame, coaxing it with his power.
“Her father trained me in the blade. I held corners for him for a long time,” Aaliyah said.
“Corners?” Sherrod said. Helima snorted. “Spoiled ass. Adu spots. Whore houses. Whatever the Prince wanted, Aaliyah kept,” Helima said simply. “Then I wandered in to help.”
“Something like that,” Mercy said and she stood in the glow of the fire. “It’s funny, you always had a knack for leadership. My father used to say that. The corner boys would follow you anywhere you sent them. Blue hated that.”
Aaliyah shrugged but she could feel their eyes on her. This was different. Helima threw a stick at her and she looked up.
“I’ll follow,” she said simply. Aaliyah nodded, trying not to cry as she thought of the undersized girl with the too big head on her shoulders that the other corner boys had pushed around. Aaliyah had given her some food but expected her to run off.
“I got shit to do, magli. Get gone,” Aaliyah had said, something like that, trying to sound as cool as the others.
Helima had straightened her spine and raised her chin. “I’ll follow.”
And she had. All these years, she’d followed Aaliyah into one kind of trouble or another. She turned her head and wiped a stray tear from her eye.
When she was a little more composed, Aaliyah looked at Sherrod and found him watching her. “One more thing you should know before you follow me any further,” Aaliyah said.
“What?” Sherrod took a sip of water. “My girl in the palace?” Aaliyah said. “She’s my sister.” The choking gasp that Sherrod made was actually a little funny for a moment. Aaliyah waited, straightening her back. She could be judged a fool for many things but she wouldn’t be judged about this.
They’d been judged before. The Prince of Thieves, when he’d found out, had been ready to throw them back to the street but for Mercy’s intervention. They may not be together now but that relationship was...sacred.
“Guess there’s no way we were sharing then,” he said between strangled breaths.
It was the first time Aaliyah had laughed in a long time.
They arrived in Galavera after three long nights. Aaliyah
had been there only once before, and then in the dark of night, in order to get a better look at the forces of the king. Now though, in the full light of day with people milling about it, seemed a different place. The people of Galavera were brown, but in different shades then the people of Titus. They were olive brown with wavy dark hair and a multitude of eye colors. As they rode through the capital, people stopped to look at them. Mercy seemed unaware of the eyes on them, she rode with her head held high and facing forward. Aaliyah couldn’t help but notice people staring at her.
“Lady!” Aaliyah stopped her horse. The woman who cried out was young, brown skinned, and wearing her hair in long braids. “Forgive me, lady, have you come from Titus?”
“Yes, sis,” Aaliyah said. The woman smiled up at her, coming to rest one hand on the horse.
“Aaliyah, don’t stop,” Mercy said, turning back enough to look at them.
“Is it true what they’re saying?”
“Who’s ‘they’?” Aaliyah asked.
“The merchants escaping from Titus. Refugees,” the woman said.“What are they saying?”
“That the capital is in flames, the city was being burned by the criminal General Aaliyah. That she’s on her way here to—”
“Be silent, girl.” Mercy forced her horse between Aaliyah and the woman. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The woman stumbled away from them, eying them suspiciously. Aaliyah swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat. The capital in flames? How many people had Odessa killed in Aaliyah’s name?
Mercy led her through the city but Aaliyah had no idea where they were going. They stopped when they reached a large boarding house, in the shadow of the palace. She jumped down from her horse’s back and led them into the stable. A groom jumped up when she came in.
“Madame Mercy,” the groom greeted her. “Take care of the horses, Walead,” she said in a clipped tone. “Is your master at home?”
“He is in the garden Madame. Not to be disturbed by any member of the house,” The groom answered, holding Aaliyah’s horse while she climbed down. He looked at her and stopped. “You’re...General Aaliyah.”
“I am,” Aaliyah said. He stared a moment longer and then looked at Mercy.
“I suppose you’re not a member of the household,” he said carefully, and Mercy nodded.
Helima and Sherrod gave their mounts to the man and they followed Mercyinto the large house. A housekeeper rushed into the main hall to meet them. Mercy strode past even as the housekeeper tried to stop her.
“Madame Mercedes, my master is happy always to have you in his house, perhaps you could be kind enough to wait in the parlor and not disturb him in the garden.” The housekeeper ‘s voice got louder as Mercy continued through the house into an elaborate garden with large overgrown trees, flowering vines and a water fountain.
The air here was filed with the sound of hushed grunts and laughter, melding with the sound of birds crying out. Aaliyah noticed an ornate covered sitting area. There were four posts and the posts had layers of sheer curtains. Beyond them Aaliyah could see the outline of two figures, wrapped in an embrace. She reached out for Mercy, trying to slow her progress, but Mercy just pressed forward.
“Master!” the housekeeper shouted. Mercy stopped just short of the curtained area and waited. Aaliyah followed close behind while Sherrod and Helima hung back, standing ready closer to the house.
They heard a curse behind the curtains, and then a laugh. The figures stood, , their figure becoming more clear as they grew closer. One of them moved the curtain aside enough to stick their head through.
“What is causing such a disturbance...” the man trailed off, his eyes focusing on Aaliyah. His face went slack with shock, his eyes growing large.
Aaliyah stared back. She had never met him but she recognized him immediately. He could only be her father, Akil. He had her eyes and nose, though his lips were fuller than hers and his skin darker still. His hair was long and loc’d, peppered with gray throughout. He’d haphazardly pulled a robe across his shoulders and now he put it fully on, covering his nudity.
“What is it, habibi?” Another masculine voice called from beyond the curtain.
“My daughter, omri,” Akil said. There was movement beyond the curtain and the man pushed it open more. He was equally handsome, his olive brown skin slick with sweat.His black hair was cut short and a long scar crossed his face. His hazel eyes studied both Aaliyah and Mercy.
Mercy dropped to one knee but Aaliyah found she couldn’t make her body work. Her father was standing in front of her. Her father.
He waved to the housekeeper, causing her to run from where she had stopped on the path.
She knelt before him, shooting Mercy a hostile look that she didn’t see. “Master?”
“Please make my guests comfortable in the parlor. Bring them tea and food. The King and I will join you shortly.”
“As you will it,” the housekeeper said. Mercy stood and Akil gave her a look before he returned his attention to Aaliyah. He gave her a small smile and she tried to return it. Aaliyah found the will to move, following the housekeeper back into the house. She caught Helima’s eye and the other woman raised an eyebrow. So here was the other half of her identity: Akil, her father, lover of the King of Galavera.
The housekeeper, Rhia, was more than happy to bring them both hot tea and iced tea, ice water and even wine for Mercy, though she mumbled something under her breath when she handed it to her. She was warm to everyone else, bringing them plates of a sweet, flaky dessert and a more savory dish that tasted of spices and meat. Things Aaliyah had never seen before outnumbered those she had. Sherrod and Helima ate with relish but the food on Aaliyah’s tongue tasted of ash. Mercy watched her from behind her wine glass but said nothing.