Princess Reviled

by Butler, J. M.

  "And she was wrong!" Shon threw his hands up in the air. "My death meant something. I laid down my life for her. And because she won't listen, she's going to die anyway."

  "Maybe. I don't know what's going to happen in the future, but you're doing a great job now of making the present terrible."

  "You can't possibly understand what this is like, Matthu," Shon bellowed. He paced through the room. His boots crushed the shattered bits of pottery. When he struck a chair, he thrust it aside. "You've never loved a woman this way. I fell in love with her soul! I adored her for who she was, and she threw it all away because she didn't believe in it. She brought me back from the dead, and then, before we shared even a day, she rejected me to be with Naatos. She spat in my face and condemned me to live forever knowing that she chose someone else. And not just anyone else. The man who killed me. I actually died, and she brought me back so fast, I never even reached Elonumato's land! There is nothing for me now. At least Esko or Perez or Irasso would have finished their days with the ones whom they loved. What good is living if—"

  Matthu punched him in the face, knocking him back. Shon rocked against the panel. His hands flew to his bloodied nose and lip.

  Matthu shoved him against the wall again. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but I don't like it, and right now I don't like you. Maybe you and Amelia don't get to be together, but that doesn't mean your life has no meaning or that nothing matters. You matter to me! You matter to Father! You've turned into a selfish knoblek. You don't get what you want so you act worse than a child? You're supposed to be my role model. You are my commander. And it's like—I don't even know you."

  Shon cradled his cheek in shock.

  Matthu struck the table, winced, and turned away. "I just can't believe this is you because this can't be you." He crossed to the wardrobe and flung the door open. "Skelt said some of the medicine they gave you might make you a bit out of your head, particularly since you stopped taking it so fast. But this is more than that. The fates of the worlds are at stake, and you left the one person who is supposed to restore it be flogged."

  Shon snapped his head up. "No. She'll have the soles of her feet caned, and then she'll be left in the square until the king returns. That's—"

  "Well, that's not what happened. Not that that would have made it right. Letting her get caned would have been horrible too. Vorec had her flogged. A lot. And those screams weren't caning screams. What kind of denial do you live in?" Matthu grabbed a large pack from the wardrobe and tossed it on the table. "She was barely conscious when I got there."

  "That isn't what was supposed to happen to her," Shon said. The sick churning in his stomach returned.

  "Yeah, well, it did." Matthu continued to speak, but his voice blurred in Shon's thoughts.

  "I've got to do something," Shon said. His stomach twisted again. He needed to vomit. Staggering forward, he held his head. How could Vorec have done this? The law required fair punishment, not brutality. "I've got to do something."

  "Yeah," Matthu said. He placed several sheets in the bag. "Get your head on right and help me get Amelia's things together and anything else we might need. We've got to get her out of here tonight. Otherwise she isn't going to make it. Thank Elonumato we aren't the only allies she has."

  22

  Friends in Dark Places

  Amelia slipped into darkness, a darkness that was cold, comforting, peaceful, and far. Everything around her in this blackness was so large while she and her own breaths were tiny, barely enough to stir even the faintest shroud. She curled further into this place, not wanting it to end. Not wanting to wake. Content to shrink until she vanished.

  A dull shouting sounded somewhere ahead of her. Maybe Naatos. WroOth too.

  Amelia covered her ears, clenching her eyes shut. A fragment of pain spiraled along her spine. It burned and expanded slowly, like a plant's tendril unfurling in sunlight.

  No, just let me stay, Amelia thought. She pulled away from the growth and balled farther in.

  But this time the pain did not let her escape. It increased, radiating up and down with each breath, intensifying like a pulse. Then, without further warning, chaos erupted.

  The shouting became a cacophony of curses, crashes, and bangs. Panicked, Amelia thrust her arms out. She struck something hard and crashed back. Horrific pain streaked through her body, and someone screamed—no, her. It was her screaming. Her own voice sounded so strange, distorted and wrong.

  Rolling onto her stomach, Amelia struggled to get up. Again, she fell to the ground, dizziness and nausea sweeping up like waves. The voices faded in and out as her ears buzzed.

  "She hasn't stopped bleeding."

  "Amelia, look at me. Amelia. Get up."

  "Get up!"

  Amelia forced her eyes open and pushed herself up. It was too loud, ringing in her head like a thousand bells. Even the torchlight was too bright, more like the sun than fire and oil. She needed to leave, but her arms shook. She couldn't move.

  "I can't reach her. Grab her, WroOth."

  "Amelia, if you can't move over here, then lay back down. I'll pull you over. Amelia. Amelia!"

  Her hands were cold. Her fingers especially. Everything felt so heavy. Her hair hung over her face in long, dark, stringy strands, clumped together with congealing blood. Her body shook, but her elbows had locked. She couldn't lower herself back down.

  "Amelia. Amelia!"

  "Lay down."

  "Amelia, at least look at me."

  Their voices blurred in her head, distorting beyond recognition. She stared forward, blinking. Why wasn't her body responding? The buzzing in her ears increased, humming deeper and deeper.

  Her arms buckled. The floor punched into her body, but she couldn't cry out this time. She withdrew as best she could, covering her ears and seeking the darkness. The pain along her back raged. This time it did not fade as she pulled into the darkness, and her breaths slipped in and out slowly. She held each one as long as she could to ease the flames. If I'm going to die, Elonumato, just let it be fast, please.

  No fear lined that thought. Here, unlike with the spiders when death also seemed not only probable but almost inevitable, there was a distance and peace. If I chase the darkness, I don't have to come back, she thought. And it was almost enough to make her smile.

  Something grabbed her foot and dragged her back. Her awareness returned. Amelia pulled in tighter, clenching her eyes shut. "No, go away!"

  The grip intensified.

  "Stop!" Amelia shouted. She tried to kick, but her legs did not respond. "Let me sleep." She groaned, her chest tightening under unseen pressure. "Just sleep."

  "Amelia." A panicked voice called to her. The unseen force dragged her back farther, sending spirals of hot pain through her. Something slapped her face.

  "You can't sleep right now."

  "Go away." Amelia tried to shout the words, but they stumbled from her mouth. The burning focused along her spine, burrowing deeper into her body, into her heart, her gut, her soul.

  Another light blow struck her face, followed by several staccato taps on both cheeks.

  "Amelia. Come on. Wake up."

  "Hit her harder."

  "I'd rather avoid breaking her jaw or cheeks if I can. There's enough damage everywhere else."

  "Is she breathing?"

  "For now." The speaker shook her. "Amelia, open your eyes."

  Amelia finally forced her eyes open. WroOth held her up in a half-reclined, half-seated position through the bars. For once, he actually looked terrified, his hands tight on her and his face drawn. "You have to stay awake until the physician comes."

  Amelia shook her head wearily, aware enough of where she was. "Just let me sleep."

  "No," WroOth said, his tone sterner. "If you go to sleep, you won't wake up."

  "I'm okay with that." Amelia's eyes started to slide shut. The darkness beckoned.

  WroOth smacked her cheek. "Amelia!"

  "Leave me alone," Amelia mumbled.
<
br />   "If he has to break your jaw to keep you awake, I'll have him do it, Amelia," Naatos said from behind her.

  WroOth shot Naatos an annoyed glance. "You can still talk though, Amelia. So tell us what happened." He wrapped the cloak tight around her back.

  That should have hurt. But it didn't. Not the way it should. The pain was at once deeper and vaguer yet not so bad. "I'm going into shock, I think." Amelia found the shape of the words difficult. "Maybe." The distance grew once more.

  "That's why you need to keep talking. What happened?"

  "Vorec…" Amelia tried to brace herself up. "Said I was a traitor. Had me flogged." She closed her eyes, the pressure on her chest returning. "I don't want to breathe."

  "It's important that you do, dear heart. Did they use anything to keep you bleeding or make it worse?"

  "I don't know."

  WroOth continued to press for answers. Naatos asked questions as well. But staying awake was hard. She noticed her fingers most beyond the pain. They were cold and thicker than usual, so stiff she could not bend them. Each time her eyes slipped shut, WroOth struck her or shook her awake.

  Several times she caught WroOth and Naatos exchanging glances that didn't take mindreading to interpret. No one was coming. No matter what Vorec told Matthu, he had lied. One way or another this would be over soon.

  That was comforting.

  The wide-eyed, white-rimmed terror in WroOth's eyes was not.

  "Just let me sleep," Amelia said, letting her head rest against the bars. "Please. I'm fine."

  "If by fine you mean half dead, then perhaps. Just stay awake a while longer." WroOth pushed her hair back. "I'm sure the doctor will be here soon. And if not, we'll figure something out."

  Amelia shook her head. "No. He won't." She let another painful breath slide out. It was so cold. She didn't have to chase the darkness. It was coming to her.

  "All right," Naatos said at last. "We'll wait a little longer. Then we must risk it."

  "If I throw her wrong and you can't heal her, she isn't going to make it," WroOth said.

  "By morning, it won't make a difference. She's already bleeding through your cloak."

  "Just set her down and back away from the bars," a third voice commanded.

  Matthu? Amelia turned her head just enough to see him standing in the doorway by the stairs, a large bag and her satchel on his back.

  Matthu strode down until he reached the front of Amelia's cell, staying outside the white line. He pointed to Naatos and WroOth. "You're both going to move away now."

  "Are you a physician?" Naatos demanded, rising from the floor. "She needs a doctor, not a boy soldier."

  "Skelt can't come. He was being watched, but he gave me everything Amelia needs."

  Naatos scowled. "If the physician was being watched, why would you not be watched as well?"

  "Bear in mind, we don't call you the Ignorant Guard for nothing," WroOth added.

  "You call me the Ignorant Guard because I called you Ruth instead of WroOth. I know when I'm being followed, and I was careful. Now move!"

  WroOth set Amelia down slowly. He and Naatos both stepped back farther into their cells.

  Matthu unlocked Amelia's door and hurried inside.

  "Twice in one day," Amelia murmured, trying to smile.

  "I'm so sorry," Matthu said. "I tried to get here as fast as I could, especially when I found out Vorec lied. But I had to make plans with the others. You've got friends here. Not everyone can do something. But some of us can. And we're going to get you out of here."

  "Listen to me," Naatos said, his voice loud but strained. "Whatever you have, Libyshan medicine is not enough for her. She has been bleeding with no signs of stopping. Those wounds are deep. Bring her to me, and I will heal her. Neyeb physiology is very different from Awdawm."

  "I'm not bringing her anywhere near you!" Matthu knelt beside Amelia and placed a small flask against her lips. "Drink this. It'll stop the pain."

  The liquid was sweet, tasting like sugared chamomile. Amelia took several sips. Almost at once, the pressure and burning relented, and her head began to clear. The cold remained, but the pain deep in her back lessened, easing her breaths. "Thank you."

  "It won't last forever," Matthu said. "Maybe twelve or sixteen hours of relief. Or a lot less. You're a Neyeb, so we don't know. But you can take as much as you need. Whenever the pain comes back."

  Naatos's eyes narrowed. "She is my viskaro. Whether you want to accept that is irrelevant. I can heal her."

  Matthu continued unpacking the bag. "Yeah, but the huanna is supposed to keep you from shifting and projecting, isn't it? You can't even heal at your normal rate, so how could you heal her?"

  "What it's supposed to do and what it actually does are two different things," Naatos said, his voice sharpening. "Now bring her here."

  Amelia nodded to Matthu. If there was any point when being near Naatos would be good, this was it. She grimaced as Matthu lifted and moved her barely within arm's reach of Naatos's cell. Waves of dizziness and detachment washed over her again, sweeping over her and pushing her farther away. But the medicine kept her from drifting too far. Matthu took hold of her hand and held it out to Naatos.

  Naatos glared at him. "Bring her closer."

  "You can touch her from here," Matthu said. "I can't trust you. No matter what you say. This is as far as I'm going to move her, all right?"

  The rage in Naatos's eyes grew for several tense breaths. Then, at last, he seized Amelia by the hand. Fear stabbed through Amelia at once. But…not her own.

  Her eyes widened as she looked at Naatos. Him. It was his fear.

  Amelia curled her fingers around his wrist, not certain what to say. A muscle jumped in Naatos's jaw as he tightened his grip. "The huanna…" His voice trailed off.

  "It's all right." Amelia let her gaze drop to his hand, uncertain of her own feelings but surprised at his.

  "No." Naatos said, his voice hoarse. "It isn't."

  The heaviness in the air swelled. Matthu at last cleared his throat. "I can't really start helping her until you let her go."

  "Do all you can." Naatos let her hand slide from his as Matthu carried her to the bench in the back of the cell.

  Matthu laid her on her stomach, removed another waterskin, and poured it on her back. The smell of blood washed away as the air became fragrant with the scent of oranges, papalas, sage, thyme, and tea tree oil. Amelia braced, expecting more pain, but it did not come. A lightness suffused her body as the thick liquid soaked into the fabric.

  "That's a good sign." Matthu set the waterskin aside. "Skelt said this is really rare medicine, but it should help heal you and make it easier to remove any fabric that was covering you. I'll still be careful when I pull it off." He picked up the edge and carefully lifted it, then dropped it, jerking away, his face pale. "Oh…"

  "How bad is it?" Amelia rested her head on her folded hands, watching him as best she could over her shoulder. The detachment remained, but she was oddly aware of everyone else. She hadn't seen the damage yet. She could only guess from what she had felt, from what she knew about flogging, and from the way that they all stared… "Do you see bone? It's going to be deep, Matthu. I don't think Vorec was worried about whether I would die from this."

  Matthu lifted the cloak again. It peeled away with a sickening shlick. His face twisted as he let the cloak fall to the ground. "It's bad. I'm sorry. It's bad. I thought you were just bloody before. I…it's deep." Matthu covered his mouth. "I thought this was going to wash away, but that's…that's not—"

  "She isn't going to improve if you're just staring at her!" Naatos struck his hand against the bars. "Do something or let us tend to her."

  Matthu stepped back. "It's…there's bone. I see bone. And muscle."

  "Awdawm," WroOth said, standing. "If you are going to help her, then you need to start helping her. The bleeding may slow, but the wounds will soon become infected."

  "I'm not in as much pain now." Amelia kept her atten
tion focused on Matthu. "It seems like you're doing the right thing. The flogging has cut into my subcutaneous tissues and muscles at a minimum, all right? There's probably going to be swelling as well. I don't know how much damage there is, but they meant for it to be bad. Vorec meant for this to be bad. Skelt knew this. So he would have prepared you. And he told you what to do, didn't he?"

  Matthu nodded, his hand still over his mouth. Tears glinted in his eyes. "Lie still. I've got…I don't know if it's enough, but I've got some things."

  "Then use them." Naatos thrust his hand through his hair. He paced to the back of the cell and then returned. "She isn't in pain because she's in shock and medicated. The damage is extensive. They did not adjust the size of the scourge to her, and there were clearly shards of metal on the strands. Her organs are swelling, and the blood loss will soon become dangerous if it hasn't already. The damage will worsen as the night continues, so unless your primitive potions can seal her organs and regrow tissue, you're only delaying the inevitable. Your bilk wax bandages can't fix all this."

  Matthu muttered something under his breath, his words jumbled. He returned to searching the large bag.

  "You cannot heal her. Your country's medicines cannot heal her," Naatos continued. "Release us. Five hours away from this cursed substance, and I can mend her. I can take away her pain, the wounds, the damage. Everything."

  Amelia groaned, turning her face into the crook of her arm. Not this argument. Matthu did not need the weight of this on his shoulders too.

  "No." Matthu removed another waterskin and poured the liquid onto a piece of cloth. "Amelia, I'm sorry. I can't—"

  Amelia shook her head, relieved. "I know. You don't have to explain. I would say the same."

  "You're both fools," WroOth said as Naatos flung his hands up in the air and swore.

  "I'm still sorry about…about everything." Matthu's shoulders slumped as he knelt beside her. Then, with shaking hands, he consulted a series of scribbled notes and began applying salves, herbs, and oils. Several times he had to pause, close his eyes, and breathe. His color remained as pale as moonlight, and though he became faster, his hands did not stop trembling. Every few minutes, he made her take a few sips of the sweet medicine.