The Unblessed Dead

by Rhiannon Frater

  I have no one to speak to about my worries and fears. Though I’ve been tempted to tell my sister that I might be exonerated by Bale’s other victims, I can’t bring myself to do it. I don’t want to give her false hope only for it to be ripped away. If Jane fails, Carrie will be even more devastated. She’s convinced that at any moment I will be dragged out of the house and condemned to die.

  My sister sleeps fitfully on her bed across from me. Her blond hair is matted with sweat and fearful moans slip from her lips. I made the mistake of waking her once during a nightmare, startling her. She’d knocked me on the floor and started screaming that the Unblessed were in the house. Rennon had burst into the room in his wheelchair to save us, brandishing a knife from the kitchen. My father had entered long enough to drag Rennon out, leaving me to console Carrie alone. It had taken hours for her anxiety attack to subside. It feels as though the Necromancer Trial has broken her spirit. Since then, I’ve been wary about sharing too much with my younger sister.

  Not being able to speak about all my suspicions, hopes, and worries has made dealing with my circumstances harder. My sister is my only true ally in the world, and without being able to speak to her I’m stuck in my own doom and gloom scenarios. My constant internal arguments with myself have worn me down. Competing theories ricochet in my head. I can’t decide who is my friend or foe.

  It’s been two long days since Jane walked out the front door. A knot of anxiety has been growing in the pit of my stomach while waiting for her to return with news. At times I fear that she lied to me and is secretly a necromancer with a nefarious plan to expose me. Then I remember how kind she and her deceased husband had been after the death of my mother. Of course, it’s only a matter of minutes before my faith in her friendship is shaken. I’m bothered that her comments echo the ones whispered into my mind by the necromancer.

  I’m certain Carrie was right all along about a necromancer trying to expose me. The necromancer is out there, watching and waiting. She wants something from me, but what could it be? Does Quade have something to do with her? He is from the Chantry. Or is it coincidence that he arrived just as the necromancer started wreaking havoc on my life? He seems genuinely concerned with what I’m going through. But is that a ploy? It can’t be if he’s willing to marry me, right?

  The cycle is endless.

  I’m still bothered by the things Jane revealed about Bale’s victims. Our talk shed light on a lot of the restrictions placed on women, especially the Unclaimed, that I hadn’t fully grasped before. Bale had nearly destroyed the lives of several young women. At least one was Carrie’s age when he impregnated her. I can’t imagine how scared the girls must have been afterward. I’ve come to the awful realization he would have never paid for his crimes. He would have claimed his accuser seduced him and the Elders would have believed him.

  Throughout my life I’ve been told: “A virtuous woman uplifts men. A wicked woman destroys him.” It’s a commonly-quoted phrase to encourage girls to attain and preserve a Pious Standing. No wonder Bale was so confident in his attempts to seduce young girls and, when his seduction failed, assaulting them. Their fear of having their standing ripped away and becoming Unclaimed or exiled kept them silent.

  Carrie mumbles in her sleep, interrupting my dark thoughts.

  I sigh, feeling helpless.

  Dogs in the neighborhood start their morning barking ritual compelling a few roosters to attempt to drown them out. I slip from the bed and move to the window to peek out at the dawn. The sun lingers behind thick clouds that promise rain in the coming hours. I sweep my gaze over the garden and my heart flutters in surprise. The wardens that usually are posted near the back gate are gone.

  Grabbing my robe and shrugging it on, I rush out of my bedroom and through the house to the front windows. I peek past the curtains and see the wardens posted at the front gate are gone, too. Panic starts to fill my chest. Their absence is worrying since the early morning protesters will be arriving soon. What if someone tries to come into the house and drag me out? So far there isn’t a sign of the women from the Wescott family and their allies that usually gather at sunrise and take shifts throughout the day hurling insults at me. Men and boys take over in the evening, their voices louder and angrier. There have been a few times I was afraid they’d overcome the wardens and drag me into the street to be punished.

  “They’re not coming,” my father says, entering the parlor. He’s already dressed for the day, but looks as though he hasn’t slept. His eyes are weary and red. “It’s over.”

  Spinning about, I make sure my robe is tied properly. Modesty has been ingrained in me since I was a baby. For the first time I realize how differently my sisters and I are treated in comparison to our brother. Rennon is never forced to cover up as long as he’s wearing underwear.

  “Over? How, Father?” Though I’m certain I already know, I want to hear it aloud.

  “Sit down, Ilyse. What I’m about to say to you will be troubling to your innocent sensibilities.”

  I obey, perching on the edge of the couch. He sits down in one of the wingback chairs and sets his hands on the armrests.

  After a slow exhalation to gather his thoughts, he says, “Yesterday several young women confronted Master Wescott outside our gates after you’d gone to bed. I was asked to join the conversation. Annah was among the women.”

  I stare at him in shock. “Annah?”

  “Yes. She’s one of several women who came forward to accuse Bale of attempted seduction and-” he drags in a deep breath “-forcing himself on them in an intimate way when they spurned him. If only one woman had come forward with such an accusation, her story would have been suspect. But in this case, there were six Unclaimed and two married women of Good Standing accompanied by their husbands. They threatened to take their accusations to the Elders and the Wescotts were horrified. The conversation was quite heated, so we convened at the nearby Meeting Hall.”

  I stare at my father with wide eyes, unsure of how I should respond.

  “I know it’s shocking. It’s evident that Bale was a man of ill-repute. He was a serpent hidden in our garden.”

  “How does this absolve me?” I dare to ask.

  “It became evident to the Wescotts that Bale’s disgrace would reflect badly on their entire family if the women spoke to the Elders. The family does not have the best standing in the community and their son’s actions would only sink it further. The Wescotts have withdrawn their complaint against you. That is why the wardens are no longer guarding us.”

  “You don’t think Elder Alvus will be suspicious about them abandoning their allegations?” I know the man hates me and my family. He’ll be skeptical of the Westcotts’ change of heart.

  “He might be, but the Westcotts formally changed their statements to the Elders asserting new information had come to light. They’re claiming Bale boasted to his brothers and male cousins that he’d scaled the wall of the Perdition Sanctuary. When he dared to do it again, he fell in and the younger boys were afraid to admit they’d trespassed.”

  I never expected the Wescotts to create a false scenario to defend their family name. They’d rather lie and let their son’s killer go free than admit to his crimes. I remember I’m not supposed to know what happened to him, so I ask, “Is that the truth?”

  “A lie to save their reputation. It’s better for the family if he’s seen as a fool, not a rapist. Sadly, I am complicit in their deceit to protect your future. I believe he was murdered but he was too strong to be killed by a woman. I suspect that a father, brother, or perhaps even a husband, took his life as punishment for what he did to one of their kinswomen. If he had done such a thing to you, I know the temptation to do violence against him would have been strong.” My father hesitates, his expression deeply concerned as he gazes at me. “Ilyse, tell me, did he-”

  “No! I never went to him. I told you. When he spoke to me, I rebuffed him. I would never have gone to see him!” My anger sounds righteous. Perhaps it is
because it’s born out of my indignation at what Bale had attempted to do to me and successfully did to others.

  With a sigh of relief, my father nods. “I don’t doubt you, Ilyse. I just needed to hear the words from you again. It was difficult to listen to the stories of the women he’d attacked. I thought of you and Carrie. Your innocence and purity are treasures to be guarded.”

  I remain silent when his words unexpectedly sting. I realize that he’s so consumed with his daughters being of Pious Standing that he’s oblivious to our suffering. Carrie can’t even sleep through the night. I wish I could confide in him, but his rigid belief in the Lost Texts would doom me. I’d be exposed as a necromancer and killed.

  After a few seconds, my father continues: “The killer will go free, but perhaps it’s for the best. A revelation about Bale’s behavior and the women he violated would scandalize the settlement, and cause too much distress. Justice was served, and the settlement can continue on in peace.”

  “Do you think it was really justice?” Though I’m angry with my father, I need to hear him say the words. While I’ve told myself that killing Bale was an act of self-defense and I had no choice, I still feel guilty.

  “Bale would have been exiled over the wall and died among the Unblessed. His fate is fitting. I thank the Three Gods that this terrible situation has been resolved before your Bridal Auction, Ilyse.”

  “But is it? Father, the Wescotts might have withdrawn the accusation against, but people will still suspect me. Do you really believe a man would marry me?” He’s yet to talk to me about his plans with Crofter Beckett. I am tired of waiting, so I open the door to that conversation for him. I want him admit what he’s planning so I can beg him not to do it. I don’t want to betray Annah and reveal she overheard him.

  “Of course! You’re innocent in the eyes of the Elders and of Pious Standing! Any man would wed you. I admit that I hope Crofter Beckett will win your hand. He’s a good man who will protect you from anyone who dares to disparage you.”

  He’s twisting the truth. Lying makes him so uncomfortable he shifts his gaze away from me. We both know that the Wescotts have damaged me despite what the Elders might say.

  “What if someone else wins?” I ask, wondering how he’ll handle Quade vying for my hand.

  “Somehow, I doubt it. Crofter Beckett has already told me he has his eye on you.” He smiles warmly. “Why don’t you prepare for the day? I will eat a quick breakfast on my own this morning. I need to return to the bakery after all this time away. It’s time we resume our lives.”

  His words sting. My aunt is dead and our hearts broken, but this is the man he’s always been. Pragmatic and not emotional.

  I hurry to my room, eager to be away from the uncomfortable conversation. My father is making more compromises than he realizes in order to protect me. A part of me is touched that he’s willing to sacrifice his business to secure a good future for me, but I can’t forget that he stood by when my mother was killed. It’s difficult to reconcile my father’s contradictory choices when it comes to the women in his family. I don’t doubt he loves us, but yet he is willing to sacrifice us for his beliefs.

  I find Carrie sitting up in her bed staring toward the window with tears streaming down her cheeks. Her face is pale and her lips slightly quiver as I enter the bedroom.

  “When you weren’t in your bed, I thought they’d come for you,” she whimpers, and starts to sob loudly.

  I rush to her side, take her in my arms, and hold her close. “No, no! I’m here! Everything is fine now. Bale’s family has withdrawn their murder allegation. They did it last night. It’s over!”

  “What?” Carrie’s eyes widen in shock. “How do you know?”

  I tell her everything that our father told me in the parlor. The only part I leave out is about Annah. I suspect Bale is the reason she’s Unclaimed and it feels odd knowing her secret. I’m not sure she wanted Father to share that information with me, so I refrain from telling Carrie.

  “So Bale’s family is lying to hide what he did.” Carrie lets out a strangled, nearly hysterical giggle. “I’m relieved that you’re free from their accusations, but it’s just so wrong that they’d hide what he did. It’s not fair though! I want people to know that he’s hurt a lot of girls, including you!”

  “I feel the same way but there’s no way to do that without exposing me.”

  “It’s scary, isn’t it? How they twist stuff around. He was after you, but all those protestors were calling you the whore. Acting like you seduced and killed him.”

  “I just did one of those things,” I whisper, guilt weighing on me again.

  Carrie hugs me, her head tucked against mine. “You had to.”

  We cling to each other for a few precious moments before I realize Carrie is crying again.

  “Carrie, they’re not taking me away.” I stroke her back, rocking her gently.

  “Not yet. But someone will. Your Bridal Auction is in a few days! Father is hoping Crofter Beckett marries you. If you get married to him, you’ll leave. If you and Quade figure out how to escape, you’re still leaving. It doesn’t matter what happens. I’m losing you.” Carrie sobs into my shoulder, her body trembling.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, feeling helpless. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault,” she replies. “I know it’s not. It’s this place. The settlement. It makes everything so hard for us.”

  “Women?”

  “Yes. Necromancers, too. You do realize I’m going to be in your place in a few years. I’ll probably get my powers right before my Bridal Auction.” Pulling back, she wipes her eyes with her fingers. “I’m so scared.”

  It’s hard to be strong for myself sometimes, but when I see Carrie scared and brokenhearted, I find the steel inside myself. As her older sister, I have to take care of her and let her know I’m there for her no matter what happens.

  “Listen to me, Carrie. Quade got word to me through Jane that he’s going to the Bridal Auction. He’s going to bid on me. When he wins, we’ll get married and we can leave together. Once we’re away from here, I’m going to find a way to get you out of here.”

  “How? Father will never let me go.”

  “I don’t know how to do it right now, but I will make a plan to get you out of the settlement before your powers manifest. I don’t want you to suffer what I’m going through.”

  “Promise?” A tiny bit of hope springs into her eyes.

  “I promise.” I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile.

  A rap on the door startles us, but it’s just Annah.

  “Your father told me to make certain you eat breakfast,” she says.

  I notice her eyes dart toward me questioningly. I do my very best to pretend I don’t know her secret and plaster a fake smile on my face.

  “Ilyse, I’m glad that you’re finally free of those awful accusations. Your father told me that Bale fell into the Perdition Sanctuary when trying to climb up the side on a dare,” she continues.

  Carrie slides off her bed and shrugs. “Father always says young men are foolish and that’s why they have to wait until their thirties to marry. Otherwise, they’re the worst husbands. Maybe if they’re that bad they shouldn’t marry at all, huh?”

  Annah lowers her chin, her eyes downcast.

  “I didn’t mean…” Carrie trails off, realizing she’s stumbled onto a sensitive subject.

  “After breakfast, you need to try on the wedding gown again, Ilyse,” Annah says. “I’m still worried the waist isn’t sitting right.”

  “Is the veil done?” Carrie asks.

  “It is! I finished last night. We’ll try that on, too!”

  “Thank you, Annah. I can’t wait to try it,” I say.

  It’s as if we all three consciously decided to ignore the awkward moment. But that’s what we’re all good at: pretending. We’re always pretending that everything is fine, that the rules don’t strangle us, that we aren’t afraid, and that the injustice of our
situation doesn’t enrage us. I now see clearly how every woman in my life is shackled to a society that judges them harshly and gives them very little freedom in the choices they make.

  There is relief in our faces as we make the choice to ignore everything that has occurred. Maybe we all need a break from the constant stress that has kept us in a siege mentality.

  The morning flies by. Annah and Carrie work together to make small adjustments in my dress while I work on tweaking the veil’s length. We keep the conversation light and I manage to enjoy the company. Rennon even peeks in before slipping outside to wheel around the perimeter of our property to make sure the protestors are staying away. He only comes inside when the rain falls, but he takes his time so he can splash through puddles in his wheelchair and arrives in the sewing room drenched to the bone.

  After the storm passes, the afternoon is beautiful. Sunlight streams through the trees, green leaves dripping with rain. The air is fresh and cool, a relief from the heat and humidity. Carrie and I spend time in the garden picking vegetables for dinner and tugging on determined weeds. We keep our herbs in pots lined on shelves on the back wall. I clip sprigs of the ones I’ll need for the stew I will make for the Bridal Auction.

  How are you holding up?

  I start, panicking for a moment that it’s the necromancer.

  Quade?

  Yeah. On the other side of this wall.

  I grin, recognizing his voice before remembering I’m not sure I can trust him.

  How’d you know I was outside?

  I didn’t. I’m on my way home after arguing with the Elders all day. They’re giving me a lot of grief about being able to bid for a Bride. I’m too young according to their rules. I’m four years older than you! I had to make a hefty donation to get them to agree. I realized I was near your home, so thought I’d try reaching you.

  You had to bribe them?