“Don’t you think we should be going soon?” She thought she heard him say at one point. She answered by pouring the contents of a glass of wine into his face.
Later in the night, she heard singing. Many people had been singing off and on throughout the night, but now every voice in the house was singing the same song and then another.
“If the sea were wine, I’d be a sailor
If the sky were beer, I’d be a bird
If the trees were ale, I’d be a climber
But without a good drink, I’m a turd.” Were the words to one song.
“Take me out to the ocean
Take me out to the sea
Feed me some tack and then fill me with ale
Give me the wind and then lower the sail
Let me cross the seas with the dolphins
Let the tide and the wind keep me free
For it’s a day, a week, a month and a year
On the endless sea.” Were the words to another.
“Sing us a song!” Someone cried out to Terri. Drunk and slurred voices all shouted in agreement and then she slowly pulled herself from her chair.
“What kind of a song?” She stammered.
“Make it a sea song!”
“Right, we want to hear a song of the sea!”
“What makes you think a farm girl like me knows any sea songs?” She asked, barely able to stand.
“This is Sheyron, love! The empire of the sea!”
“Right! Sing us a song of the waves!”
She did remember a sea song that her mother, who was from Sheyron used to sing to her when she was a little girl. She would sing it to her on stormy nights and when she couldn’t sleep.
“Alright! Alright! I got one.” She called out, nearly falling backward.
The room went quiet and Terri steadied herself somehow.
“What would you be if the waves set you free?
And the wind in your hair sent you sailing to me?” She started singing.
Several people made happy noises as if they suddenly remembered the song and then every voice joined her.
“Tied upon shore, would you weary no more?
What would you be? What would you be?
What would I be if a hurricane came?
Would I be clever?
Would I be shamed?
Would I be helpless, cast up on the flame?
Where would I be?
Where would I be?
I will be here forever
Till the river runs into the sea
I will always be silent and hold my head up
Till we will be sailors no more
Where would we go?
In the sun or the snow?
Wander in memories?
Or let them all go?
Would we be dreamers, helplessly so?
Where would we go?
Where would we go?
I will be here forever
Till the river runs into the sea
I will always be silent and hold my head up
Till we will be sailors no more
I will be here forever
Till the river runs into the sea
I will always be silent and hold my head up
Till we will be sailors no more. We will be sailors no more.”
She finished her song and then collapsed back into the chair to deafening shouts of approval.
As the night went on, the house crowd began to thin. More and more women and men began to leave of their own accord or get thrown out and soon there were no more than two dozen men and women left. The musicians were packing up and Terri could just barely hear the barmaids saying “Goodnight” more and more often.
Memories started coming back to her, good and bad. She remembered her family, then so far away; her friends at home and friends she’d made over her years as a soldier. She saw their faces, heard their voices speaking and laughing and then she heard them screaming and crying in terror. And then the whispering came back; “Murderer…murderer.” Her ears began to feel the piercing pain she felt back in the Blackwoods as she battled with the creature. She closed her eyes and then saw burning embers flying into the trees and then the forest becoming a blaze. “You fool! You bloody fool!” She heard Kayla screaming at her and still the whispering, “Murderer…murderer.”
“Are you alright?” She thought she heard Firth ask her.
She heard mumbling voices close to her. What were they saying? Are they talking to me? “Drunkard,” she heard. “Filth.” “Murderer.”
Another voice came to her. It was close, almost as if standing close to her. There was a man wearing a brown coat and standing with a woman. His back was turned to Terri, but she could still hear him.
“Drunken cow,” She heard. “Murderer.”
She climbed to her feet and steadied herself.
“What did you call me?” She said to the man.
Apparently he didn’t hear her. She reached out, tugged at his coat and he turned.
“What did you call me?” She demanded.
He said nothing. He merely stood there and stared at her at first. Then his form began to sway back and forth. She felt dizzy and light. Her legs felt soft and weak and she could barely stand.
“What did you call me?” She asked again.
He said something, but she didn’t quite understand him. It was an insult, she thought; it had to be. She felt a rage flare up inside her. Whatever it was that he said was something she would not tolerate. No one; least of all a man would ever talk to her that way. She balled up her fist and swung at him as hard as she could. She saw her fist pass in front of him, lost her strength, fell forward and then blacked out.
When she woke up, she was lying back under an oil lamp, swaying back and forth above her. Her whole body was swaying back and forth and her head felt heavy.
“Twenty feet!” She heard someone shout and it went through her skull like an arrow.
The lamp continued to sway back and forth and then seemed to split in two. Her whole gut felt as if were about to leap out of her and then she felt hands grab her and turn her on her side before she let everything foul inside of her out.
“Got yourself another drunk?” She heard.
“Oh yes! She’s gonna hate herself in the morning!”
Chapter Twenty Five
Terri began waking up to a pounding in her skull. Her head felt as if it were too heavy to lift and the light coming into her half open eyes felt like it was stabbing her. Her mouth was dry and filled with a bitter, rancid taste. A sorrowful moan escaped her lips. She tried to raise herself with her elbows, but too weak, she simply fell back against the soft, comforting pillows.
“Sounds like it’s alive.” She heard a voice close to her.
She wasn’t completely sure, but it sounded like Kenner. She turned her heavy head and looked to where the sound came from and again tried opening her eyes.
There was a dark blur surrounded by striking yellow and she could hear the blood rushing through veins in her neck. The bright yellow began to soften and the dark blob slowly resolved into the blurry shape of a man sitting in a chair.
“Where the hell am I?” She groaned.
“Physically or spiritually?” Kenner’s voice answered.
She turned onto her side and stared intently at the dark shape and it became clearer. It was Kenner, but he was dressed differently. He was wearing a black jacket and vest with, what looked like white flowers jutting out from his neck. He came more into focus and then she saw that it was the same ruffled shirt she had seen on the men from the palace.
“What the hell are you wearing?” She asked in a scratchy, raspy voice.
She saw that he was wearing black pants, but with the same brown leather boots he always wore; except now they were clean and free of the mud that had been caked on them. He looked different ways as well. His curly, black hair which was usually unkempt and dirty was now clean and shiny. The curls fell perfectly over a face that looked softer an
d more refined. His course and shaggy beard was neatly cut and groomed and both his hair and beard accentuated his piercing blue eyes. It was him, she thought, but she didn’t remember him being quite that handsome.
“I found these on my chair this morning.” He said to her. “Apparently the women who bathed me last night measured me as well.”
“Bathed you, huh?” She said with a sick smile. She tried to laugh, but instead started coughing as if her lungs were filled with dust.
“Yes, and I must say it was the most thorough cleaning I’ve ever had in my life.”
“I bet it was.” She said as she buried her face in the silk sheets.
Vague memories began to filter into her mind. She recalled fuzzy images of a city, a public house, never ending ale and wine and singing. She also remembered being almost carried down barely visible corridors, whispering lusty invitations in someone’s ear and rubbing her hands all over a man’s body.
“Oh my Lady,” She wheezed. “Is there anyone in the bed next to me?”
“Not this time.”
She felt herself starting to fall asleep again, but then felt Kenner shaking her.
“Come on, princess; time to get up.” He said to her.
She thought of many offensive things to say to him, but could only mumble something unintelligible.
“Sorry, old girl. It’s time to face the day.”
She answered with a kind of grunt that, at least sounded like a curse. She heard Kenner sigh and then say, “I didn’t want to do this.” Several hands then grabbed her, dragged her from the bed and then into the room where she remembered the bath had been located. These hands then stripped her, picked her up and lowered into the tub. Ice cold water was then poured over her. It stabbed at her skin like needles and she screamed as if were wounded. She jumped out of the tub and was caught by someone with a large, soft towel. She was quickly wrapped in the towel, but then pushed herself away. She was caught by another set of hands and pulled her fist back to punch whoever it was. She looked into the face of one of the bathing girls from the night before and as she swung, the girl simply ducked under her arm. Her fist slammed into the wall which thankfully gave way. Several others grabbed her again and wrestled her back into the tub. The towel was ripped away from her and she was held down. Then soothing hot water was poured over her. One bucket after another filled the tub and she was quickly submerged and quickly beginning to feel relaxed and almost as if she was floating.
“Is that better, Miss?” She heard one of the girls ask.
“Oh yeah.” She moaned.
She lay in the tub for almost an hour. Several cups of really good coffee were brought to her and she felt life in her again. The images and memories clarified and by the time she finished her fourth cup, she remembered everything she did…everything. She even remembered trying to seduce poor young Firth and ripping his vest when trying to remove it as he put her into her bed. She felt embarrassed and slightly guilty, but then reminded herself that she had been drunk. Somehow, she felt that justified her actions.
When she finally climbed out of the tub, the girls quickly set to work at dressing her. They helped her step into soft, cotton pants that fell only down to her knees and an equally soft shirt. A corset, something she hadn’t worn since before the Army was pulled around her waist and chest and then it was pulled tight around her.
“What the blazes?” She exclaimed.
Before she could say anything more or try to escape, something light blue was thrown over her head and then pulled down over the rest of her body. Looking herself over, she saw that it was a dress and she recognized the sheen of the silk she had come to know and like so much. Strings and ribbons were tied around her, fastening her to a dress that seemed to fit perfectly. She remembered Kenner saying that his bathing girls had “measured” him the night before and quickly concluded hers had done the same. They molded the silk with their hands and gently brushed it. She was then led back to a chair and helped down to a seated position. The corset around her waist seemed to constrict her a little, but the girls helped her to a position more comfortable. They pulled up her dress over her knees and quickly pulled silk stockings over her feet and calves. Shining blue shoes with, what appeared to be diamond studded buckles were then placed on her feet. The girls then pulled her up out of the chair.
She was led in front a large mirror and simply couldn’t believe what she saw in the mirror. The seasoned soldier covered in years of battle and endless miles of travel was gone. There was a young woman she hardly recognized her staring back at her in a beauty she didn’t believe she would ever see. While a girl attended to her short, blonde hair; now so clean it looked almost white, she studied herself in the blue dress and wondered if she could have looked like this ever before? The cotton and wool dresses she wore before the Army had never hinted at a beautiful woman ever before. Even when her hair was long and flowing, it never looked to have so much life in it. Before her body looked like a barrel with a head stuck on top, but now she saw gentle curves and a womanly bosom she’d never even guessed at having.
Is that really me, she asked herself silently? It couldn’t be. The years were gone. The miles were gone. The battles were gone and so were the blood and the mud. The woman she saw in the mirror had never seen such times. For the first time in her life, she perceived herself as something beautiful.
At that moment, she wished Kayla was there to see her. At that moment, she felt as if the beauty she saw in her reflection could rival that of the Lady of the Woods and she wanted her to see it.
“What do you think, Miss?” One of the girls asked.
She continued to stare at the sight in the mirror in awe for a few moments. She still couldn’t believe it was her.
“Miss?” The girl urged her.
She wanted to say, “I think the next person who calls me ‘Miss’ is going to get her tongue cut out.” But for once, she didn’t mind being referred to as someone feminine.
When she stepped out of the room, she was surprised by Kenner’s reaction. His eyes lit up and a bright smile appeared.
“Wow!” He said. “Who are you and what did you do with Terri?”
“I gave her the day off.” She joked.
A tired and haggard looking Firth then appeared from his room. His eyes looked bleary and his head hung down as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it up.
“Good morning, sunshine.” Terri said brightly.
“Is it still morning?” Firth asked.
“I’m afraid not.” Kenner answered. “It hasn’t been morning for some time.”
‘ Terri then saw a stunningly beautiful young woman with brown hair step up to Kenner and take his arm.
“Your escort?” She asked him.
He looked slightly embarrassed and blushed a little.
“Yes.”
They were led down one long corridor and then another. Although the paintings, flowers and sculptures were different, it all had the same overall effect. It was still a grand and elegant palace of the rich and privileged, Terri thought. She thought it beautiful and sophisticated; but somehow detached from the world outside its walls.
“So when do we eat?” Terri asked. “I’m starving.”
“I’m afraid you missed breakfast.” Kenner told her. “…And lunch.”
“I’m assuming they’ll feed us dinner at some point?” She asked Firth.
“I don’t think I could ever put anything in my mouth again.” He moaned sorrowfully.
Terri smiled and patted him gently on the back.
She remembered further that he’d been a good friend the night before. Somehow he’d gotten her back to the ferry and on the boat, every time she needed to vomit, he turned her body and face over the side of the boat. He endured her teasing and nearly molesting him as he helped her through the long corridors of the palace and she also remembered him carrying her to the bed and then politely but firmly refusing her advances; even when she had tried to rip his clothes off.
> She looked at Kenner, who seemed almost as nervous and awkward with his escort as Firth had been with Terri the night before. She smiled as she imagined that he would have been equally as honorable.
They were eventually led to pair of large doors that appeared to be made of the same wood as the planks of a ship. Both doors had a pair of the long, thin swords crossing each other on each. There were loud voices of many people coming from inside and as they stepped up to the doors, two guards crossed their spears in front of them.
“No one comes into the council chamber armed.” One said sternly.
Kenner, carrying the Black Sword in his right hand glared at them, but they were unphased by his threatening expression.
“If you would care to leave the sword outside,” the guard continued, “I will be more than happy to watch it for you.”
“You sir,” Kenner said to him, “Can kiss my…”
“Oh for heaven’s sake!” The voice of Janna called from behind him. Everyone turned to face her and then Firth bowed and Kenner’s escort did the strange, straight-backed lowering motion they’d seen the day before. The guards bowed as well.
Janna was followed by a procession of guards along with elegantly dressed men and ladies. She herself was wearing what looked like a combination of a fashionable dress and military uniform. It was a tunic with two rows of gold buttons, a long, billowing skirt and shiny black, high-heeled boots; all the same scarlet color as Sheyron’s flag. Her fiery red hair fell freely over her shoulders and a red cape was draped over her.
“I think we can make an exception for the bearer of the Black Sword.” She finished. “Besides, you know damn well I’m bringing this in,” she said holding out the Golden Spear. “Now open the doors before one of you goes swimming back to Korsh.”
The Black Sword Trilogy: The Four Nations Page 14