Ashwalk Pilgrim

by AB Bradley

  She trailed Olessa out of Gia’s room. She would welcome sleep when it came. But first, Olessa would beat her until the woman was satisfied by Mara’s tears.

  Mara sighed through her nose. She shook her head. Just another night in the House of Sin and Silk.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Olessa's Right Hand

  Teardrops splattered over Mara’s trembling knuckles. She stared at the the fine rugs masking the floor, their intricate weaves a swirling labyrinth of gold and crimson before her bleary eyes. “I beg forgiveness, Madame Olessa, I did not mean to let him cut me.”

  Mara sucked the snot dribbling toward her lip and lifted her chin. Olessa glared at her property down the bridge of her long nose. Like always, gold, silver and glittering rubies covered her left hand. On her right, she wore a snowy glove over otherwise bare knuckles. Jewels and precious metals cut the skin. Silk and knuckles would not draw blood, but they would leave a bruise that taught a hard lesson.

  Olessa shook her head. She turned her back to Mara and headed for a plush bench. She kept her personal room sparse save the rugs, a bench, a pedestal for wine, and a shrine to each of the Six so she could pray to whichever one the occasion demanded.

  The woman admired her silk glove and wagged her fingers in the light of the oil lamps dotting the walls. “The Harvest Festival is upon us. Visitors from every city in the kingdom of Eloia will flood the Floatwaif looking for wine and glimmer and a taste of sinful flesh. Ships will sail from all corners of Urum, from the icy land of Skaard to the eastern kingdoms Blail and Hine, each tired sailor on their decks looking for a soft pillow and a moon maiden’s gentle stroke. Yet, my most beautiful maiden will remain untapped, her bulging belly ruining the years of etiquette, lessons, and fine food I’ve invested in her. You have ruined my profit in this endeavor, simply ruined it.”

  Mara dipped her chin. Harvest Festival would be Olessa’s most profitable night. The Floatwaif would teem with countless revelers. Normally, chaste men and women would take a second look at the enchanting House of Sin and Silk with its great braziers and billowing ribbons and wonder if they should visit a moon maiden if only for a night.

  “You were my best maiden by far, Mara.” Olessa closed her eyes and pinched her nose. “What happened to you? Why would you claim you took the ebon orchid draught when you clearly did not? Why would you launch yourself at a fool drowning in wine and glimmer and let that beautiful body of yours be further marred? Do you hate me so much? Do you wish to single handedly sink this home and serve the coral sharks a feast for the night?”

  Mara dug her nails into the rug. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the rhythm of her heartbeat. “Madame Olessa,” she said, daring to lift her gaze to her madame. “I swear upon the Six, I never once missed an ebon orchid draught. I even took it after I knew I was with child. You made the draughts yourself and watched me. I do not know why the child survives, but it does. Please, my madame, I only live to please you. I know no other world than yours, and I fear you will cast me from it once my child is born. I was not sure, but now that I am cut—”

  “Mara, Mara.” The woman plucked a wineglass from the nearby pedestal and savored a sip. “Do you remember how you came to me?”

  Mara leaned onto her knees and followed the woman’s gaze to the shrine of the Slippery Sinner. The statuette within the shrine watched Mara with wide eyes and a sly smile, dried rose petals and old incense littering his feet.

  “I only remember small things. I remember a big man’s hand. I remember people in streets. I remember a boat, and the big man’s quiet smile. Then, we were here, and you were all I knew because you were all I needed to know.”

  “His name was Laedon.” Olessa smiled, her fingers tapping her collar. “And he was from a time long ago, when things in Eloia were simpler and the old king ruled with a righteous hand. Before his son took the throne and renamed our fair city of Thean to Sollan in homage to his own stupid name. Who renames a city? Really, it’s quite foolish. I’m sure the mapmakers collectively fainted when they heard his proclamation.”

  Mara tensed. Her eyes searched the shadows. Even she knew none spoke ill of Good King Sol. Those who did often disappeared, leaving whispers that they had become food for some great serpent lurking in the king’s palace.

  “Was Laedon your patron?” Mara asked, trying to focus on something other than the king.

  Olessa laughed and gazed upon Mara like she was a foolish puppy. “No, of course not. He was my brother and an acolyte of the Burning Mother. You can thank him for saving your life. You can thank him for your survival in the House of Sin and Silk. You can thank him that I don’t sell you for a tarnished silver when one of your many disappointments burdens my ledgers and lightens my purse.”

  “I will light a candle to the Burning Mother for him tonight.”

  “Do what you will.” Olessa took a sip of her wine, her eyes fixed on Mara. “He’s dead anyway, so perhaps he might hear your prayers himself and pinch your nipple if your words have a honeyed taste.”

  Mara dare not laugh even though Olessa chuckled at her own words. Instead, she swallowed and nodded.

  Olessa swished her wine and leaned forward. “So you speak true when you say you remember nothing of your childhood? Not a single memory of your mother or father? Siblings, perhaps? Think. Reach into that shallow sea of a brain and find some hint of who you were.”

  Countless nights, Mara spent on her knees before Madame Olessa. Each time, Olessa asked the same questions, demanded answers Mara knew would never come. As far as she knew, Olessa’s brother had plucked her from the ground like a flower from a garden on his way to the pleasure barge.

  “Please forgive me, Madame Olessa. I have no memory before your brother.”

  “Bah!” Olessa launched her glass. It careened over Mara’s shoulder and smashed against the wall. Drops of wine slid down Mara’s cheek and stained her chiffon dress. Mara hunched on her knees, still as one of the statues in the shrines.

  Her madame floated from her seat like a wraith cloaked in flowing red and gold. The woman cupped Mara’s chin in a hand slathered with citrus lotion and weighed by jewelry. “Strange times are these, and stranger still the girl named Mara. Laedon wouldn’t say a word to me, either. We never really had much in common, you know. He loved the Burning Mother while I’ve always favored the Coin Counter. He used that to my advantage and told me you’d turn a profit fast. I should have known better. Gods, I should have known.”

  Mara’s child kicked. She winced, her hand clutching her belly. “I only ever wished to please you and your patrons.”

  “Yes, my patrons.” Olessa chuckled and released Mara’s chin. “The House of Sin and Silk has treated king and queen, sailor and scoundrel. We are as much a part of this city as the palace and the temples. Tell me, Mara, what do you know of the wider world? What do you know of the Six?”

  Her madame’s questions confused her. They were different questions than other nights, and Mara feared where the conversation might lead. “I…I do not know much other than that you worship them as do most throughout Sollan and the other cities of Eloia. My patrons, their tongues wag for flesh, not faith, and I would not trust the other maidens even if they would answer my questions. The Six are a thing outside the House of Sin and Silk. Patrons do not speak of their lives outside our gentle walls. I suspect they do not speak much of us once they leave, either.”

  Olessa retook her seat and smirked. “It’s good to know I only purchase smart girls. I have always believed we are the unspoken priestesses of the Six. Most clergy choose a single god to serve. Their god is their patron. Not us. No, a moon maiden serves all gods.”

  “How do we serve all gods?”

  “We are a place of sin where for a night a patron may indulge in the fantasies that the world will only let them dream of. For a night, we give them a sinful kiss, and in the morning, they may run to their gods and pray for forgiveness. We are the fuel for the holy fire and the food for the heavenly feast.”


  “I do not understand how that serves the gods, Madame Olessa.”

  “Of course you don’t. Mara, here’s a hard truth. There are no gods without sin to bring the faithful to them.”

  “Oh.” Mara clenched her knees. She still didn’t quite understand, but she feared looking foolish before the woman.

  “Indeed.” Olessa’s dark eyes drifted to Mara’s stomach. She clucked and straightened, her shadow swallowing Mara. “As I said, my word to Laedon is all that’s kept you around. You’re lucky he took pity on you because my pity spout ran dry long before your birth. That said, I gave my word to keep you safe. That bastard you bear is a different story.”

  “What?” Mara’s hands tightened over her belly, and she recoiled, fearful Olessa would somehow rip her child from her then and there. “Madame Olessa, but I—”

  “Want to raise it here? Or maybe you’d like to leave?” She raised a brow and motioned for the door. “You are not a prisoner here, although I wonder how long you would last with an infant in your arms in a city like Sollan these days.”

  Mara’s jaw quivered. Olessa was right. Mara’s first memory was leaving the city. Since then, she had never returned. Sollan would eat her like an ancient titan come back to life, and then it would take her child.

  “That’s right,” Olessa cooed, guessing her thoughts. “You have nowhere to go. You know nothing of Eloia or the many strange lands of Urum. This barge is your world, and I am its goddess. This goddess does not care for another mouth to feed, especially one that won’t turn a profit for years to come.”

  “Is there no way? Is there nothing I could say or do to keep my child with me?”

  Olessa’s features hardened. “Unless your infant pisses gold and shits diamonds, it’s off this barge as soon as it draws its first breath. You understand me? That is my word, and as you know by now I never break my word. You’ll watch iron rust and turn to dust before I reconsider.”

  Mara grabbed her dress and wrung it in her fists. The babe within her kicked, its hand moving like a wave across her belly. “What will you do?”

  “As if I have to tell you.” Olessa snorted and looked to the side. She rubbed her wrinkled hands on an armrest and puckered her lips. “But…I am not a cruel madame. The lesser pleasure barges on the Floatwaif, they would have tied stones to your ankles and tossed you to the coral sharks long ago. I am not them, this is the House of Sin and Silk.”

  “Praise to the Six,” Mara whispered, her knuckles whitening.

  “Indeed. As to your whelp, I have decided to show it a kindness undeserving of its station. Once you give birth, I’ll have it sent to the noble palaces in Sollan. Nobles pay good coin for well-fed infants. Raising them as servants from birth allows them to properly train them in the fine art of knee-bending and chin-dipping.”

  “A servant? I—I never thought…” Mara’s gaze drifted to her belly.

  Olessa cackled, her chortle twisting into Mara’s heart like witch’s nails. “What did you think this world would hold for your child, Mara? Did you think it would be some kind of mighty warrior, leading battalions to slay titans? Maybe a famed acolyte of the Six, performing their wonders throughout Urum to adoring crowds even as magic fades from our world with each passing generation? Or maybe you just want it to be happy, to live on a little farm outside Sollan and watch its kids grow old and have children of their own?”

  Mara bit her lip. A tear slid down her cheek and splashed onto her knuckles. “I did not think, Madame Olessa.”

  “Of course you didn’t. None of those things can ever be for that child, Mara. You are young and still bathe in your hopes and dreams, but one day, you will see that nothing can wash away the reek of our lot in life. Your child will be born a bastard to a faceless father and a moon maiden mother.

  “Like you, it will not have a last name because it does not deserve one. Sending it to a noble to serve is a kindness children of the docks would gladly slit a throat for given half a chance. Pray you never see what that life is truly like.”

  “Thank you, Madame Olessa, for showing me and my child such a blessing.”

  Mara fought down the urge to leap into the sea and drown in salty sorrows. Friends were rare in the pleasure barge, and at times, she even hesitated before telling Gia something close to her heart. Having a child with her would have been different. She would love her son or daughter, and they would love her.

  She could whisper secrets to them until the rising sun cast pale gold over the horizon and snuffed out all but the brightest stars. They would laugh at jokes no one knew but them, not caring how the other girls would roll their eyes and turn their backs. They would have each other, and nothing could ever break that bond between them. Nothing except the razor tongue and hard truths of Madame Olessa.

  “Tell me,” Olessa said in a flat, cold voice, “that when the time comes, you will willingly give me the child.”

  Mara lifted her chin. Olessa considered her with hard eyes.

  “You want me to promise this now?”

  Olessa nodded. She tucked a curl behind an ear weighed by gold and smiled coolly. “I’d rather not be forced to have this conversation again. If we come to an understanding now, that will make what happens after the birth so much easier on us both, don’t you think?”

  “I…I don’t know…”

  Olessa sucked in a breath, her anger lifting her brow. “Mara. Promise me now, you’ll give the child to me. Do not fight me on this. You are no prisoner here, but if you do not agree to this, I will not let you stay. I’ll have a strong boy drop you at the docks before sunrise, and then you’ll see what happens to a moon maiden when she’s plucked from the sky and buried in the sewage of that city.”

  “No, no,” Mara pleaded, “I can’t survive there.”

  The very thought of being marooned in the vast, teeming maze of streets and towers sent her heart clawing up her throat. Sollan was danger. Sollan was darkness. Olessa kept her safe on the barge. Mara knew that world, and if she stayed in it, Olessa would keep her from the wicked children of the docks and their long knives.

  “Well?” Her madame arched a brow. “You know what you must do if you wish to stay.”

  Mara placed her hands gently on her belly. She felt the life inside her, the ball of warmth and hopes and dreams, a child who would grow that she would never know.

  You have my heart, she told her child. I will love you until the end of my days. When you cry, think of me to dry your tears. When you smile, know I will smile with you. When you dream, know I will dream of you. I love you, I love you, I love you.

  Mara lifted her chin. A strange calmness washed over her body. Her tears disappeared. Her aches and pains and bruises faded. “I promise, Madame Olessa, that you may take my child once it’s born. I will not fight you because I know I cannot give it the life it needs.”

  Olessa clapped her hands and smiled. “See? That wasn’t so hard. Now get out. Oh, be a dear and send a strong boy in to clean that broken wine glass.”

  Mara nodded. She tottered from Olessa’s room, her aches and pains slowly creeping back into her bones.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Flight of the Lanterns

  The first paper lanterns of Harvest Festival drifted from the docks as the sun slowly sank beneath the horizon. The rectangular lanterns would drift on the glassy waters of the city’s bay until they reached the Floatwaif where the heat of their flames and the ocean breeze combined to pluck them from the waves and pull them toward their starry brethren.

  Mara never lit a lantern of her own. Olessa never allowed it, even though her madame always lit one herself. One day, Mara wanted to light a lantern. Maybe she would for her child once it was born. Once Olessa took it from her to a life that would never intersect with hers.

  “Each one is a prayer for the Burning Mother,” Gia said, tucking her legs to her chest.

  “May she bring another plentiful harvest this coming year,” Mara murmured.

  “And a year of healthy…” G
ia’s voice faded. She looked to her knees, her cheeks flushing red. It was an innocent mistake, the phrase she nearly muttered. All muttered it on Harvest Festival. All prayed for it on that night.

  “…Babies,” Mara finished. “It’s okay, Gia. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

  Ever since her talk with Madame Olessa, Mara had meticulously avoided the subject of her child. Gia eventually gave up her friendly prodding and hid her worries behind a warm smile. Mara wasn’t sure if she would ever tell her friend the truth until the deed was done and her child gone. By then, every moon maiden and strong boy would know the truth and it wouldn’t matter anyway.

  The first paper lanterns reached the bobbing mess of the Floatwaif barges. The lanterns lifted from the calm waters, floating in an ever-rising wave toward the titan skeleton proudly facing the horizon.

  Cheers erupted from the shore and quickly spread to Floatwaif. Drums beat a merry rhythm. Sea and shore came alive with leaping, dancing peoples of all shapes and sizes. Ferry boats unmoored from Sollan’s docks and disturbed the glassy waters, their pointed prows aimed like arrows for the heart of the House of Sin and Silk.

  Gia stood and smoothed her shimmering sheer dress. “And Harvest Festival begins. Is my collar polished?”

  Mara stood with a little help from her friend. So long had she worn her own brass-plated collar, she often forgot it hung around her neck.

  She licked her thumb and rubbed a speck of grease from Gia’s collar. “There. It looks like it’s never been worn before.”

  “You know I envy you, Mara.”

  Mara furrowed her brow and paused her polishing. “Envy me? Did you take a dose of glimmer?”

  “No,” Gia said with a laugh. “But you’ll be cooking in the kitchen while I’ll be serving the whims of drunk fools. Sometimes, I just wish I…I just wish I had my body back.”

  “I can’t remember a time when it was mine.” Mara looked to her belly. “I’ve been Olessa’s slave since my youngest days. As soon as I was old enough, she had me taking patrons so she could turn a profit. Now, I share my body with my child and wonder if tomorrow Olessa will grow tired of the expense and throw me to the sharks.”