by Eric Lewis
“It already hurts!” Uwen squeezed his eyes shut tight. “Just do it,” he whispered.
Timing is everything, Alessia thought. “What? What did you say?” She took a hold of the limb, got ready.
“I said, just do— Aaargh!!!” Uwen’s howl echoed back down the hallway and across the courtyard. When it died down he wept openly.
Ulnoth patted the novice on the shoulder. “Just be happy you caught her on a good day. Sometimes she demands payment in advance, and it can be quite a bill.”
Bendicca was about to ask what that meant when a scowling, silver-haired man appeared in the doorway. “What’s the meaning of all this?”
“Father Jenulius,” said Bendicca, inclining his head. “There was, ah, an accident. Uwen was injured, and these folk came to the rescue.” At knife point, he didn’t add.
Jenulius eyed Alessia up and down. “I see the rules don’t count for what they used to. I suppose we owe you a debt of thanks, madam. You’ve training?”
Alessia nodded, flicking sweat from her brow. “Some. Second degree physic, fullwise with kit. A season from third degree.” Remembering her manners, she bowed her head. “Um, I humbly beg to report, Honored Father.”
“So,” said Jenulius, “one of our order. Strayed from the flock perhaps?”
“Not strayed, released entire. In these bloody days, others have greater need of my service than the gods.”
“I see. Uwen will recover?”
“If you’ve left me anything to splint this bone with. Or plaster.”
“Plaster?”
“I’ve seen it done. Pour wet plaster around the limb. It dries tight and holds the bone until it knits.”
“Plaster we have,” said Bendicca. “It’s certainly no use to – er, that is….”
Jenulius sighed. “It’s all right, you can say it. Repairing that wall was a fool’s errand, and the fault is mine. Do as you think best.” He noticed Ulnoth for the first time. “And what’s your story?”
“Me? Oh, I’m just along for the ride.”
“Ride?”
Alessia paused wrapping bandages around Uwen’s leg. “We may be rabble, but we’re here with purpose. Please Father, tell me you can read Bhasan.”
Jenulius raised an eyebrow.
* * *
“It’s been some time,” muttered Jenulius as he squinted over the letter like a vulture. A piece of scrap paper was set beside the original, charcoal pencil at the ready. “Haven’t had occasion to read Bhasan since, well, since my subprior exams. Strange tongue to be sure, but so full of knowledge. Do you know, the Bhasans were charting the stars and cataloguing herbs when we were still clawing our way out of the Argovani swamps…though the hand that wrote this wasn’t a native, you can tell by the strokes. Phrasing is strange, but…. It says, ‘To deity body-wise, sun-rays-through-water which inhabit on all grounds, Artabarzanes—’ oh my! ‘From his same disgust-making and slave of no value, greetings and abasements’.”
“Basements?” said Ulnoth with a quizzical expression from the corner of the study to which he’d been relegated. “Some kinda construction—”
“Hush!” snapped Alessia. “We thought as much. Go on.”
Jenulius scribbled with his charcoal as he read. “‘I must pray forgiving of…shortness-by-mockery that is this parcel but endure yoke-whipped by now-wise evolutions pertaining to friend-taking by high lord—’ erm, it says angar-uw—”
“Engwara,” said Alessia. “We assumed that part references the queen. Go on, Father, please.”
* * *
To the God Incarnate, The Rainbow Which Abideth Upon The Earth, Artabarzanes, from His most loathsome and unworthy servant, greetings and abasements!
I must beg forgiveness of the insolent brevity of this note but feel compelled by recent developments concerning the acquisition by Queen Engwara of a powerful new ally in the person of one Lord Taurix. Your Radiance knows the delicate balance of strife in this country – which I remain honored beyond description to maintain – requires wealth of both gold and flesh to rest upon the scales. The first is easy to accomplish as our Bank and Your vast riches have shown – neither side in this pitiful war suspects the true source of its finances nor cares to discover. Alas the movements of people are a more troublesome coin. This Taurix, whose wrath Your Radiance’s western-most satraps may have had cause to fear, has against all possible calculation betrayed his self-styled King Pharamund and tipped the balance in the queen’s favor. I therefore beg as immediate counter a large infusion of resources to Pharamund’s cause of value not less than a thousand pounds gold and contracts for ships and men from Thazov, Marzahn and Porontus. The Bank can direct the flow of money with little difficulty but must act quickly. If successful the war can be maintained for another year yet, after which the whole of the peninsula will be exhausted and left at Your pleasure and mercy – a bargain! Profit flows everywhere, Your Radiance.
Your ever-kneeling and humble agent,
C. F. v X.
B. I.-E., Marimine Sardicchio Esquaralle
* * *
Jenulius translated the letter twice word for word, his hand shaking by the end. “Where…how did you come by this?”
“Quite by accident,” Alessia said, her voice barely above a whisper. “A Thazovi sneaking through the forest tried to kill one of us and…failed. Had this on him. I think he took us for spies.”
“Where did this happen – no, no don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. I shouldn’t even be reading this. You—”
“Wait,” said Ulnoth, “explain this to me like I’m five. This says what exactly? That Emperor Artawhatevers is footin’ the bill for both sides?”
“Proxy war, using Marimines Banks as middlemen,” answered Jenulius. “And when both are utterly spent from killing each other, the emperor can walk right in and take over. A bargain, indeed. We’re so poor by comparison it’s far cheaper than a direct invasion.”
“Uh-huh. And no one’s maybe taking this with a barrel of salt? I mean I could write a little note saying I’m the royal titty inspector of the Cloud Kingdom of Uxtaphrath, don’t make it so.”
“Good question,” said Alessia. “Is this genuine?”
“Look here,” said Jenulius, “the signature. This C. F. v X.”
Ulnoth and Alessia leaned across the worktable. “It’s…shiny,” Ulnoth observed.
“It’s gold dust. Poured onto the ink before it dried. The amount of gold there is of no great value, but dust of such fine manufacture is difficult to come by. In this country, anyway. Whatever else, someone of means wrote this document and wrote it in a hurry, I can tell that even in translation.”
“It makes sense,” Alessia said as the pit in her stomach sank ever deeper. “Argovan’s been bankrupt for over a year. Bergovny can’t be any better off yet they’ve managed to keep at it. They’re so obsessed with killing each other they don’t bother to ask where the money comes from. The bank must be getting…I can’t imagine what they’re getting to play such a long game like this.”
“A vast amount of real estate,” ventured Jenulius, “percentages, exclusive trade routes, monopolies, anything they want. All while hiding under Artabarzanes’s skirts.”
“Now Taurix has gone and thrown a stone in their stream by switching sides. Treason, that hypocrite. All for nothing….”
Ulnoth kicked a chair across the tiny study and it crashed into the corner. “A game!” he shouted in fury. “It’s all a game to them. Half the country’s dead and the rest on the way, all ’cause of a godsfucked bank?” He stormed toward the door, but in his rage he fumbled with the deadbolt.
“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Jenulius, more frightened than angry.
“Carsolan. Imma kill that bitch queen with my bare hands. Then if by some miracle I ain’t dead I’m going to Thoriglyn and do the same for—”
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“You can’t! If this gets out…oh gods, if anyone learns I had anything to do with this….” Jenulius turned even whiter and snatched his translation off the table. He turned and shoved the paper into the tiny hearth behind him.
“No!” yelled Alessia. “Stop, this is too important!” She grabbed the original before Jenulius could do the same to it. “Both of you just settle down, we need to think—”
A banging came from outside the study, followed by Bendicca’s voice. “Father? Is everything all right? I heard shouting.” Ulnoth at last got the door open and almost barreled into the brother. “What is going on?”
Jenulius’s forehead shimmered with perspiration. “What did you hear? Is there anyone else in this wing?”
“What? No, the brothers are gathered for chapter. Are you—”
“Start without me. Go. Go!” Jenulius turned to Alessia, begging again for the letter. “Understand, we can’t be caught with this – it violates sacred neutrality. Just dabbling in politics is dangerous enough, but this?”
“Don’t lecture me about neutrality, Father, it’s not as sacred as you think. Besides, which side could this help? They’re both getting funding from the bank, both being duped. Don’t you see? We can use this. If we can get to someone who has the ear of Pharamund or Engwara, expose the bank’s scheme, it might change things. If they knew Artabarzanes was behind it…well they’d have to make a truce, wouldn’t they? It could even help end the war!”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” said Ulnoth. “People who win crowns ain’t the type to be swayed by reason. Look, you’ve tricked me into doing things your way since we met, and I almost started to believe your cack. But you heard that letter – don’t matter what we do, don’t matter how bad you think things are, it just gets worse and worse and it only stops when everyone’s dead. I knew that once, but you made me forget.” Head hung low in resignation, he walked out of the study.
“Damn it all,” said Jenulius, “if he runs his mouth about this we’re through!”
“Don’t worry,” Alessia answered. “He plays at mean and callous – a lot of the time he is – but he won’t put anyone else in danger on purpose. There’s nothing to link this letter back to you. I’ll take it and go and forget we ever met.”
“It’s not that I blame you, girl,” Jenulius bristled, “it’s just, I’ve got the brothers to think about, ken’ee? And we’re walking a tightrope here already.”
“I understand, all too well. I thank you for your help, Father, and beg to take my leave.”
Jenulius nodded, laid a hand atop Alessia’s head in benediction. “Go sister, and may the gods—”
“Don’t,” snapped Alessia. “Don’t say it. They haven’t done so yet and I doubt they’ll start now.”
* * *
Where’d that fool get to? Alessia considered going back without Ulnoth and leaving him to his latest suicide attempt. It was tedious always having to coax him back from the brink of madness. Maybe it’s his fate and I should just let him get about it, she thought, although she didn’t believe in fate. But what about the letter? Was it pure chance that it’d fallen into their hands? Exhausted and morose, Alessia only halfway pondered these things as she made her way uncertainly back toward the bridge. She jumped back in alarm when a familiar rusted halberd appeared in front of her.
“And just where do you think you’re going, darlin’?” It was a different guard than the one they’d passed on the way in – this one had the stench of gleeful sadism about him, along with cheap wine and ball sweat.
“Oh, um, across the river,” Alessia answered, careful to keep her eyes down lest they betray her contempt.
“Rule is crown gets half o’ what you find. You know that.”
“Well, as you can see I didn’t find anything.” Careful! “Just bad luck I guess.”
“Oh, wrong answer, missy. No one gets out without paying the toll. Ain’t that right, boys?” Nearby a squad of conscripts gave perfunctory nods or looked away.
I don’t have time for this, she thought. “And what exactly is the toll?”
“Ah, well, thing is, the toll is either booty…or pussy.” He barked laughter at his witticism.
“I don’t think so,” she growled. Her hand inched toward the knife she had concealed in a sleeve. The guard noticed the movement and grabbed her arm.
“What’s this?” He wrenched the knife from her grasp. “Oho, a little pricker, eh? That’s against the rules too. Anyway, I got a lot bigger one for ya right here. Take her!”
Alessia lashed out with her free arm and struck the guard across the jaw. At the same time she jammed a knee into his groin. He stumbled backward but the padded jack absorbed most of the blow. She tried to snatch his halberd but the distance was too short to stab at him so she whacked the guard in the forehead with the shaft. “Ow!” he shouted. “Godsdammit, I said take her!” Half a dozen men grabbed her from behind, and Alessia was immobilized. The guard shook his head, spat blood, and smiled. “That’s good, I like some fight in ’em. At first anyways.” He wound up and landed a hard slap across Alessia’s mouth. The crack rang out and echoed across the ruined landscape of Lenocca.
“Now you behave, and if you’re a good little cocksuck just maybe we’ll keep you alive long enough to use you up. Turn her around.” They spun Alessia about and though dazed she struggled, sure she was about to be buggered then and there. The sight of nearly a hundred dejected-looking men greeted her. Most of them wore rags, but a few sported makeshift emblems of Engwara’s standard. “You see that? Them’s the fresh recruits, newly sworn to Her Majesty’s service. They been promised a sign-on bonus, and today that bonus is you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Murder Them
Ohshitohshitohshitohshit…. It was all she was capable of thinking in that moment. Not even before Taurix had she been so helpless, so paralyzed. They locked her up in the ruins of Lenocca’s jailhouse, its one cell still sturdy. They’d lain her face down over a table and chained her arms to opposite walls, in position and ready for use. Her chausses and braies lay in a pile on the floor. Just outside the cell a callow youth stood watch, saying nothing but staring intently at her exposed crotch.
“P-please,” she whispered, “let me go. I…I’ll take you with me, away from all this, I promise. There’s a place we can go – ah!” A piece of rubble slammed into her backside, tossed through the bars by her captor.
“Sarge says keep you quiet else I don’t get a turn.”
So that was it then. All her hopes, plans, incredible turns of luck all come down to this. The temple, Firleaf, Wengeddy, the Heron Kings – washed away in a moment of carelessness. Ulnoth was right, she thought while fighting back tears. It doesn’t matter what we do, all turns to cack in the end. She would die, and for her own arrogance, her conceit and presumption through it all she was going to be raped by a hundred dehumanized wretches first. Gods forgive me. She stopped fighting and wept.
Sometime later the door to the jailhouse creaked open on its one good hinge. Alessia heard it but had worked herself into such a merciful fugue that it seemed far away, muted. A drunken voice filled the room.
“It’s me. I won the lot, I’m first, sergeant said so. Let me at ’er.”
“All right, all right, pipe down. Lucky fuckin’ you,” said the youth.
“Exactly, ha! Lucky fuckin’ me.” The sound of liquid sloshing.
“Watch it! Where’d you get that jug, ’nyway? Wine’s against the rules for new scrubs.”
“Meh, who cares? No fightin’ to be done here, right?”
“Well then gimme some!”
“Here, enjoy. I got somethin’ sweeter to taste.” Footsteps. The clang of the cell opening. Closer footsteps, but still miles away as far as Alessia perceived. Someone else, she thought. This is happening to someone else, far away. Pay it no mind.
Stink of flesh,
heat. Rustling of roughspun cloth. Pressure from above. “Ah, now this is what I call a bonus.” There was something about that voice. Hot breath, scratching of a beard against her neck, bare legs pressed against hers. Someone else, somewhere else…. She held tight to the fiction, held on for dear life. Whispers in her ear. “Make this look good. Not sure how long that stuff takes.”
What?
Coughing. Hacking, violent spasms. “Oh…what is thi…help….” Moans. More sloshing. Crying.
Suddenly the pressure was off her. The sounds of suffering were cut short. Chains fell slack. What was happening? Slowly, so slowly, Alessia’s mind took a cautious step back toward reality. Then another, and another. When she felt her left arm fall free, then the right, she dared open her eyes.
Blinking away tears, she sat up and turned around, confused by what she saw. “…Ulnoth?” It was Ulnoth, as naked from the waist down as she was and hopping into his braies. On the floor next to him lay her jailer, face bloated and purple with green foamy slime pouring from his lifeless mouth, neck twisted at a grotesque angle.
“Nothing gets by you. Don’t just sit there, put your clothes on and let’s get outta here!”
“You came back for me?”
“Tell the truth, I never left. I was gonna. Then I figured you’d get into trouble without me and well, you’re a right silly cooze with silly notions but I still owe you. And gods damn you for that. Uh, sorry about gettin’ kinda intimate with you there, but it had to look real-like.”
“But how? What did you do to – oh, my poison powder!”
Ulnoth nodded. “Strong as I wanted, just like you said. I’m afraid the kid didn’t survive. I assume you won’t lose sleep over that?”
Alessia shivered as she fumbled back into her own clothes. “I’m not sure I’ll ever sleep again.”
“Uh-huh, we can debate the moral implications another day. For now can we…?” He jerked a thumb toward the door.
“Please.”
On the other side of the door they were greeted by a crowd of expectant recruits, but no officers. Ulnoth raised his knife and held it in front of them. “Listen up, you shitspittles, we’re walkin’ outta here. Anyone says different I guarantee I will end you.”