Our Lady of the Islands

by Shannon Page

  “Lord Alkattha bids me extend his apologies for not being here to see you off. He is unavoidably detained, but asked me to assure you that he would still like to discuss those draperies with the seamstress if she is well enough to return as scheduled in the morning.”

  Sian could well imagine Escotte quaking in some other room until the contagious seamstress was safely gone. Not that she was anything but grateful for such cowardice just then.

  “Thank you, Quatama,” Arian said as they reached the door. “I fear she is too ill to speak just now. But I am sure she will be better before morning, and would be delighted to accept Lord Alkattha’s invitation then. Please thank him for the lovely dinner.”

  “Very good … Freda. I will convey that to him.” He pushed one of the two grand doors open for them. “Farewell, then. I wish you both safe journeys home, a pleasant night … and a quick recovery.”

  Sian nodded slightly, as if in gratitude, wondering if the man ever smiled.

  Then, despite all her fears, they were outside! The Hall’s great forecourt seemed more open space than she had seen in years, though she’d been confined here not even two weeks.

  Arian supported her down the steps, then stopped and looked around. “That’s odd. I don’t see the runner-cart. Did Quatama not say it was pulling through the gates some time ago?”

  While Arian peered around the forecourt, Sian remained crouched and looking down, in case anyone inside should be observing them.

  “Perhaps we took too long to get here,” Arian said. “Could they have left again when we did not appear as soon as they expected?”

  What were they to do now? Sian wondered. Not go back inside, surely.

  “Well, this is irritating,” Arian said. “Let’s walk down the drive a ways and see if they’ve just gone to wait somewhere else.”

  They began to make their slow way across the forecourt, Sian still shuffling at Arian’s side in pretended illness — and because Maronne’s too-small sandals were pinching her feet rather painfully. Even so, she was more than willing to walk all the way to the Factorate House. Just as long as they weren’t forced to go back inside the house behind her. Ever again.

  Reikos shoveled the last spoonful of this evening’s ‘dinner’ into his mouth, scorning the sergeant’s empty promises. They’d received the same watery broth and rotten vegetables last night and tonight as they’d been given every other night so far. If there’d been any improvements made in their situation here, he had yet to detect them. “Probably hasn’t given us a thought since he stepped back into the light,” Reikos muttered to himself.

  “What?” asked Pino, finishing his own slops across the room.

  Reikos shook his head. “Wasn’t talking to you, lad.”

  He was doing that more often now, talking aloud, but not to Pino. How much longer, he wondered, before he too preferred dying to rotting slowly in the bug-infested dark like this?

  “What’s that?” asked Pino.

  “I didn’t say anything … Did I?” Reikos turned to find the boy staring through their bars, head cocked uncertainly.

  “Listen.” Pino set his trencher down and went to peer through the bars, down the rough-hewn passage toward the staircase. “Someone’s coming. Lots of them, I think.”

  Reikos heard it too now. Boots on stone, echoing loudly down the long staircase above them. He went to join the boy. Clearly not just their jailer coming back for some reason. Were they to be hung at last? He dared not hope they might finally be freed. In such hopes lay madness.

  The footfalls grew louder, joined by the soft clink of armor — or chains perhaps — and a voice he recalled almost at once, and did not think he wanted to be hearing again now.

  “I can still make this easier for you, Sergeant,” came the Census Taker’s foppish whine. “Just tell me who those ladies really are.”

  “I’ve already told you, sir. A dressmaker and a maid, as far as I know. If you’ll tell me what makes you think otherwise, perhaps I can be of more help.”

  And that was Ennias’s voice. Was he coming to improve their situation finally, Reikos wondered, or to bring them some new grief?

  “Stop being obstinate,” growled the Census Taker. “I am to believe that Cleone fell ill just in time for you to find such a distinguished and convenient replacement for her — and then a wealthy, discreet dressmaker I’ve never heard of either, practically waiting at my gates?”

  “Cleone steered me to Freda, sir; and you sent me to get the dressmaker.”

  “Who also falls suddenly too ill to speak with me before she leaves? And who my cousin, the famous healer, somehow neglects to cure of this affliction? If I were as stupid as you seem to think me, Sergeant, perhaps you would be the Census Taker now, and I would be the mercenary soldier on his way into a prison cell.”

  “Well I’ll be a little purple sea monkey …” Reikos murmured in astonishment.

  Pino turned to him, wide-eyed. “They’re arresting him now?”

  Reikos shook his head, unsure, as torch-cast shadows filled the staircase landing.

  “Do as you feel you must, of course, my lord,” said Ennias. “But when you’ve had a chance to check this out, I believe you’ll find you’ve been mistaken.”

  The first person to come into view was Sarit, their jailer, looking even more morose than usual. The second was Sergeant Ennias, now lacking most of his house guard armor, and chained at wrists and ankles. Behind him came two more house guards, herding the sergeant. Last of all came the Census Taker, with a squirrel monkey clinging to his left shoulder.

  “I was certainly mistaken when I entrusted this affair to you.” The Census Taker peered past his grim entourage. “Captain Reikos? Ah yes, there you are. And I am sorry, but I have forgotten your name, boy.”

  “Pino,” Reikos said, before the rash youngster could say something to get them in even greater trouble. They did not need to be aggravating this man further, now especially, it seemed.

  “Pino, yes, of course. Well, I imagine it must get somewhat lonely here, so I have brought you company.” The Census Taker nodded at Sarit, who stepped forward with his ring of keys to open their cell door. “I believe you’ve already had the pleasure of Sergeant Ennias’s acquaintance. Sergeant?” He thrust his double chin at Ennias, who, with a look of stolid resignation, shuffled into the cell. Sarit followed to unchain him, then stepped back outside to close and lock the cell door behind him.

  “What have you done with Domina Kattë?” Pino demanded fiercely.

  Reikos grimaced, wondering why the gift of youth was wasted on such witless people.

  “Why, I have lavished every luxury at my disposal on her, boy.” The Census Taker frowned at Sergeant Ennias for some reason. “And warned her very clearly about the consequences of ingratitude.” He shook his head sadly, then turned to smile at them again. “I wish you all a splendid get-together, gentlemen. May the best man win.” He beckoned his two house guards to follow, and started for the stairs. Just before he turned the corner, he turned back and said, “If you decide to tear each other into pieces, please try not to make too big a mess. I don’t get anyone down here to clean that often.”

  “My lord, why are we being kept here?” Reikos tried in desperation.

  The Census Taker looked back in apparent surprise. “What? Has no one told you?”

  “No, my lord. How … long are we to stay?”

  “Well,” the Census Taker sighed, “I’d love nothing better than to stay and answer all these questions, but I have too many bigger messes to clean up at present. I will let Sergeant Ennias explain it to you.”

  Then he was gone, leaving Ennias and Sarit to stare after him and his guards, then up at the ceiling as the sounds of their departure grew fainter. Ennias rubbed his chafed wrists.

  When it seemed clear that they were well outside of hearing, Sarit lowered his eyes to gaze balefully at Sergeant Ennias. “I’m truly sorry, sir. Seen a lot of sad things down here, but I never half imagined seeing thi
s. Not in my darkest dreams.”

  “Thank you, Sarit,” said the sergeant without any sign of emotion. “I’d been meaning to discuss this with you, and hope it won’t seem too self-indulgent now, but … if there’s any way to get the three of us something of a bit more substance by way of provisions — from time to time, even — I would be deeply obliged.”

  “Well now,” Reikos said, “that’s rich.” He turned to glare at Ennias. “Your concern for our well-being does take on a whole new urgency, doesn’t it?” He was sorely tempted to haul off and punch the man, but Ennias still looked a formidable fighter and had at least of foot of height on him, while Reikos’s own strength was paper-thin after all this time without food or light.

  “Did he not bring you extra food just yesterday?” the jailer asked.

  “No need to defend me, Sarit,” Ennias said gently. “I thank you, but if Alkattha should return for some reason, you ought not to be found down here with me, eh?”

  The man grimaced, but nodded at the sense of this and headed up the stairs as well.

  When he was gone, Ennias looked back to Reikos. “I arrested you two for attacking me and my men while I was doing nothing but what I thought was a good thing for your friend, Domina Kattë. I’ve already told you that I have no beef with either of you personally, nor feel anything but worse and worse about where all this has landed you since then.”

  “Or where it’s landed you, huh?” Pino said, his lip curled in disgust. “So, who did you rush to get thrown in here?”

  “I’m in here for the same reason you two are.” Ennias sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his thick, dark hair. “Trying to protect a woman. Several of them, actually.”

  “What women?” Reikos asked in alarm. “Is Domina Kattë in danger now?”

  Ennias raised his eyes toward the rough rock ceiling, betraying the first real signs of distress — or any other emotion — Reikos had ever seen in him show. “Somewhere up there, right now, Domina Kattë, a Factorate maid, and the Factora-Consort herself are waiting for me to help get them safely out of this building.” He dropped his gaze and gripped his head into his hands. “And there’s not a godsdamned thing that I can do to let them know we’re all in trouble.”

  Reikos’s eyes were now as wide as Pino’s. “The Factora-Consort is here? With Domina Kattë? Does she not outrank the Census Taker? Can she not just order him to —”

  “Alkattha doesn’t know that’s who she is,” Ennias cut in. “She’s pretending to be Domina Kattë’s maid.”

  “The Factora-Consort?” Pino blurted in disbelief.

  “Sian’s maid?” Reikos shook his head, wondering if maybe this confinement had already driven him mad. Could he be asleep? Was this just a dream? “How … Why on earth would —”

  “It’s complicated!” Ennias barked, losing his infuriating cool at last.

  “No, it is insane!” Reikos protested. “What in hell is going on up there?”

  “I wish to all the gods I knew,” sighed Ennias, his frustration seeming to evaporate as quickly as it had boiled up. He gazed around, looking for somewhere to sit, it appeared, only now seeming to realize that there were just two pallets for the three of them. He went to sit on Reikos’s, though the captain hardly cared at that moment. “The Census Taker is apparently involved in some kind of plot to overthrow the Factor and his government,” Ennias explained, as dispassionate as ever once again. “Domina Kattë is involved now, because of her ability to heal the Factor’s son. Because there’s no one they can trust, the Factora-Consort and her maid are here themselves, trying to sneak Domina Kattë away without giving the Census Taker any reason to suspect she’s gone — although I’m pretty sure that plan is broken past repair now.” He shook his head and sighed. “They fear that if Lord Alkattha knows they’ve discovered his involvement, this conspiracy might just launch an all-out civil war.”

  Reikos and Pino were both gaping at him now.

  “Civil war?” gasped Pino. “There is going to be a war? Over Domina Kattë?”

  “Not over Domina Kattë, son.” The sergeant bowed his head again, looking very tired. “She’s not the cause of this. She’s just stuck in the middle of it — along with all the rest of us.”

  “Is the Census Taker not your Factor’s cousin, though?” asked Reikos, wondering if his understanding of Alizari politics was even more muddled than he’d thought. “Why would he wish to wage war against his own family?”

  “The Factor’s government has been teetering for some time now, and the Alkattha family’s prospects with it. The Census Taker may just have decided to flee his family’s burning ship before it goes down anyway — as any rat will do.”

  Reikos began to pace around their cage, rubbing at his stubbled beard, and trying to absorb these mind-numbing revelations. His Sian was at the mercy of her clearly deadly cousin, at the center of an unimaginable catastrophe. How had the whole world come to such an edge in just the few short weeks since he had docked his ship here in such placid-seeming waters? His ship! It was anchored in what might soon be a war zone! His ship and Sian … They were all he had. And there was nothing he could do for either of them. “Is there no way to get us out of here, Sergeant?” Reikos pled. “The jailer, he is clearly liking you quite well, it seems. Can you not explain to him what is at stake here — just as you have done with us? Surely, he would see … There might still be something we could do if we were not stuck here.”

  “I have thought about it, Captain, I assure you. But though these women are in danger now, Lord Alkattha does not seem to have recognized the Factora-Consort or her maid yet. I don’t know whether they would be in more danger or less if he found out. If I tell Sarit what I’ve just told you …” Ennias raised his hands and shrugged. “He’s clearly very sorry for me, but you’ll notice he hasn’t offered to let me go. He’s as afraid of Lord Alkattha as everyone else here is — with good reason, obviously. I have little doubt he’ll find some way to feed us better now. Whether he would do more if he knew the rest, or just run fearfully to his master and make everything worse for the Factora-Consort and Domina Kattë, I have no way of knowing.”

  “He’ll hurt her, if he figures it out,” said Pino, as much to himself as to anyone else. “And there’s nothing I can do now. Nothing …”

  Reikos didn’t need to ask which ‘her’ the boy meant. It wounded him to watch Pino still clinging to this hopeless love of his. There seemed nothing left in all the world that didn’t hurt to look at now.

  Arian led the healer from the Census Hall’s forecourt out into the darkened drive, glancing up and down, but there was still no runner-cart in sight. “Well, something has gone amiss. But we are out, at least, and the harbor is not so far away. Our boat to Home should be waiting there. We can just walk.”

  Sian nodded, limping after her.

  “You can stop pretending now,” Arian said after a minute. “We’re no longer visible from the house.”

  “It’s these sandals,” said Sian. “They’re too tight.”

  Arian looked down at Sian’s feet, frowning. “Why did you not say so?”

  “I didn’t think we’d be walking.” Sian gave her a reassuring smile, trying to walk more naturally, though it was obvious the sandals pained her pretty badly. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Perhaps we’ll find a runner-cart along the way,” Arian said hopefully, though they would have to walk beyond the Census Hall’s jungle-covered grounds before reaching populated streets. There would be very few people out at such an hour, though she heard the faint echoes of a prayer-line in the distance.

  Despite the minor setback of their absent cart, Arian felt more exhilaration with every step they took away from the Census Hall. They had done it! Sian was out of Escotte Alkattha’s clutches! Konrad would be healed at last. Arian blinked back tears, recalling Sergeant Ennias’s tale. “Does it truly happen all at once?” she asked Sian. “This healing you do?”

  Sian glanced up at her, surprised, perhaps, at the cha
nge of subject. “Very nearly.”

  “It must feel strange to wield such power.”

  “To be honest, it feels … quite uncomfortable. If it’s a wounded arm, my own arm aches. If it’s colic, my stomach hurts along with the child’s.”

  “So you can cure illness then — not just injury? I mean … you have no doubt, do you, that you will be able to heal Konrad?”

  “My lady, you have risked so much to come for me, and were not sure of this?”

  Arian fell silent a moment. “I didn’t have much choice, really. Sergeant Ennias was most convincing, but the truth is, I have exhausted every other option.” She gave Sian a pointed look. “And, I’m still Freda, please, till we’re safely at the Factorate.”

  “Of course. I am sorry.” Sian smiled at her sheepishly. “I feel quite certain I am meant to heal your son. Perhaps I’ll find some peace again when this is done.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Sian stumbled over a loose cobblestone; Arian reached back to steady her. “When this power was first … given to me,” Sian said, “I wanted only to be rid of it. Now, I’ve come to understand that there are forces much, much larger than myself at work here, though I still don’t know why this, why me.” Sian looked at Arian and shrugged. “I’m a mother too. That alone is reason for me to come with you — whatever other reasons the gods may have.”

  “Is this power truly given you by some god then?” Arian asked. Was it this ‘Butchered God’ after all? Was Sian able to communicate with it somehow? Sian looked at her strangely, clearly uncomfortable with the question. “You needn’t answer,” Arian added hastily, having no desire to alienate this woman on whom so much depended now. “I have no wish to pry. It’s just … I really did not think there were gods in Alizar … Until I heard of you.” Do they resent me for such disbelief? she wondered. I’m truly sorry if I’ve seemed disrespectful, she silently assured whichever of them might be listening to her now — or walking right beside her even, within the body of its avatar. You have simply been so quiet. For so long. Arian smiled at Sian, and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “I thank you, cousin, for all this must have cost you.”