The Curse Giver

by Dora Machado

“Ouch,” Lusielle said. “I heard him. You didn’t have to do that.” The green eyes were open and intent on his face. “Don’t be mad at me. It’s not my fault that you’re a stubborn fool.”

  Bren gaped at the soggy woman before him as if he had never seen her before. “You conspired with the curse giver to get me to—?”

  “A gal has to do what she must.”

  “You naughty witches!”

  “Two of a kind,” the curse giver said, before her face dissolved into ripples and her liquid image whirled back into the pool with a colossal splash that exploded past the door and windows, drenching everyone in the room and drawing alarmed cries from people passing by.

  Lusielle flashed an apologetic smile. “I don’t mean to rush you, but we don’t know how long the potion will work. The soul chaser is on the hunt, and time remains of the essence in your case.”

  Bren looked around the room, unable to think of a single thing to say.

  Khalia stared at him with wide eyes. “He who can control the tides of men can change the river’s course.”

  “Who goes there?” A golden guard wearing a captain’s badge entered the shrine cautiously, followed by a dozen more, aiming their spears at Bren and the rest. A growing number of curious bystanders trailed behind the guards, no doubt vying for fresh gossip.

  “We’ve had reports of trouble here,” the captain said, taking in Bren’s bloody sword.

  Bren laid his sword on the ground and got up slowly to face the man. “The killing is done,” he said. “You’ll get no fighting from any of us.”

  “Stay where you are!” The captain’s eyes fell on the floating body. He reached into the bloody pool, and grabbing the bobbing head, stared at the face. “What kind of treason is this? Who has killed King Riva?”

  “I did,” Bren said.

  “Take him,” the guard said. “He has broken Teos’s peace.”

  “No, he hasn’t.” Khalia rose to her feet.

  “My lady!” The captain took a knee before Khalia. “I didn’t recognize you.”

  “This man has not broken the peace,” Khalia said.

  “With all due respect, my lady, he admits to killing the king. The law requires his head for Riva’s, and right away.”

  “You’re right,” Khalia said. “Under any other circumstances, Teos would require this man’s head, but you see, this is no ordinary crime.”

  “My lady?”

  “King Riva attempted to kill me.”

  “The king tried to murder you?” The captain grappled with the notion. “But why?”

  “The king knew I was on to him,” Khalia said. “He has been making plans to rebel against Teos and invade the Free Territories. He waited until I was alone in order to attack me.”

  “No offense, my lady, but why didn’t he send one of his men to do the deed?”

  “He wanted no witnesses. He was going to frame Laonia’s lord for my murder. But these good people learned of his plot and came to my aid. The lord Brennus saved my life.”

  “The law makes allowance for the defense of a high Chosen,” the captain said. “Still, I must arrest the lord until such time as a proper inquiry has been concluded.”

  “I’m afraid you have no jurisdiction to arrest the lord Brennus,” Khalia said. “Whatever happened here, it didn’t happen on sacred soil.”

  “Aren’t we on Teos and isn’t all of Teos sacred?”

  “In principle, yes, but we’re standing in one of the few spots which have been lawfully de-sanctified, the shrine of a fallen goddess.”

  “I believe the Chosen is right,” Hato said. “You have no authority to arrest my lord.”

  “In that case, I should file my report with the lord Terrachio right away. News of King Riva’s death is bound to spread quickly and will cause trouble all around.”

  “You do that,” Khalia said. “I’ll be over presently to testify on Lord Brennus’s behalf. And captain? Thank you for your prompt response. Your name and diligence will be mentioned when Lord Brennus’s heroic deed is announced.”

  “I’m most grateful, my lady. My lords.” The captain retreated, leaving some of his men behind to watch the crowd assembling around the shrine.

  “For a high Chosen,’” Bren muttered, “you’ve got poetic flare.”

  “You are welcome,” Khalia said. “You’re a lucky bastard today. Had you killed Riva in any other place, my story would’ve been very difficult to prove. You’d be dying just about now.”

  “What about Bausto?”

  “Ernilda is after her husband,” Khalia said. “Leave the matter in her capable hands. Now that she has proof, Bausto’s rule will not be able to survive her challenge. The people of Barahone won’t stand for treason.”

  “And Aponte?” Bren said. “You do realize that he’s mine to punish?”

  “I might be able to work something out with Terrachio.”

  “With my lord’s permission,” Hato said, “I’d like to assist you with the task.”

  “As long as you’re willing to follow my instructions,” Bren said.

  “I’ve always followed your instructions!”

  “You didn’t earlier today.”

  “Oh, that.” Hato looked to Lusielle. “I was following her instructions.”

  “So are we free to leave Teos?” Lusielle asked.

  Khalia nodded. “I can’t imagine you or your lord have the time or the inclination to linger here for the formalities. It’s what I do best.”

  “I think it will be prudent for the two of your to get out of here right away,” Hato said. “We’ll take care of matters here.”

  For a cursed man who hadn’t had a lucky day in ten years, this day was turning out particularly well. Bren’s eyes fell on the drenched, bruised and battered woman before him. He was blind to everything but her smile.

  With Severo hovering like an overprotective grandmother, Bren helped Lusielle up and led her out of the shrine. The day was new. The light was bright to his eyes. Word of Riva’s demise must have gotten around, because the rabble had grown to great numbers. The crowd was cheering. A number of fools were calling out his name. The balance of the Twenty who had made the journey to Teos formed an escort, clearing the way.

  “Are you all right?” Bren said.

  “I’m fine,” Lusielle said. “All I need is a bath, a hot meal and a steaming kettle.”

  “You heard your mistress,” Bren said to Severo. “Run ahead and make the arrangements.”

  Severo kissed his mistress’s hand and, boots squishing with water, took off at a trot.

  Bren smiled. “I wager from now on to the end of your life, you’re going to get all of your wishes properly seen to.”

  “Oh, good,” Lusielle said. “‘Cause after the bath, the meal and the kettle, I’m going to need a bed, with you in it.”

  Chapter Ninety-seven

  THE SMALL PRIVATE FERRY THAT HATO and Khalia sailed across from Teos to the Kingdom’s nearby shore docked without fanfare at the market’s busy pier. Rumors of Riva’s death had just begun to spread beyond Teos, but the mood in the bustling market was jubilant and decidedly optimistic. Trade was brisk and traffic was at a peak. There would be uncertainty in the days to come as change swept through the kingdom and rival factions rushed to stake their claims—Hato had no doubt about that—but euphoria ruled at the moment, and hope, new and fresh, blossomed on people’s faces.

  Word had come to the Lady of Tolone that the landing of Riva’s troops on Tolone’s shores had been repelled. Abandoned ferries were floating down the Nerpes and found stranded along the kingdom’s shores. Eleanor had already sailed for Tolone to deal with the problems likely to stem from the failed invasion’s fallout.

  If somebody would have told Hato less than a week ago that Eleanor was going to be a helpful and stabilizing influence for the Free Territories, he would have laughed. But everything was different now. Before his very eyes, Eleanor had transformed from an insecure, fearful sham into a capable ruler. It was as i
f the woman had drunk some miraculous remedy that had healed her self-confidence.

  Hato helped Khalia out of the boat. She had forsaken her golden robes for more subdued attire, a striped skirt, a ruffled blouse and a brown woolen cloak that allowed her to fit in with the market crowd despite her undeniable authoritative bearing. She had complained to Hato that she looked plain and old. Hato thought she looked even more beautiful than before.

  “The place is located next to the butchers’ quarter,” Khalia said.

  “Which way is that?” Hato asked.

  “I can’t smell a thing,” she said. “We’ll have to ask.”

  It pained Hato that Khalia had lost her gift. And yet she seemed uncharacteristically resigned and maybe even a bit relieved. Since she had been away from her airs for a few hours, she was already beginning to develop the rattling cough typical of inhalers experiencing the airs’ withdrawal. The next few months would be difficult for her, but as she tackled the market’s crowded lanes, she didn’t seem particularly daunted by the challenge.

  He motioned for the men to follow him. Clio and Cirillo had volunteered to remain behind with Hato in order to finish his lord’s business at Teos. They were as eager to complete their mission as Hato was. Duty aside, they were all looking forward to returning to Laonia and celebrating with their families.

  After ten years of hardship and tribulation, it was fitting that Hato should carry out his lord’s final directives. First thing this morning, Hato had crafted and filed the list of evidence outlining the details of Riva’s attempted invasion. He had lodged it—along with the claims against Bausto—with Teos’s inquirers as the code required. Hato, Khalia and Severo had all provided first-hand testimony on Riva’s death. Laonia’s charter was safe, and although the formalities would span months to come, Hato was confident of the outcome.

  Only one other task remained to be accomplished. His lord had wanted to do it himself, and yet he had been too short on time. But before he left, Bren had given Hato precise instructions. Hato had listened quietly, agreeing with his lord’s sense of justice but also horrified. He judged his mission fair, distasteful in principle, but necessary.

  They walked by the butchers’ quarter, leaping over the bloody gutters and skipping around the stinking puddles of piled gore. The place reeked like a three-day-old battlefield. Flies buzzed everywhere. The freshly skinned carcasses of lambs, goats, cows and pigs dangled from hooks, a gruesome sight. Hato looked behind him, where tightly flanked by Clio and Cirillo, Aponte Rummins’s face was as white as the fat gristle gleaming among the carcasses’ pink flesh.

  The man’s terror was gratifying. Aponte probably thought he was meant to hang on one of those hooks. It wasn’t a bad idea, but for better or worse, it wasn’t what Hato’s lord had in mind.

  “Here we are,” Khalia said. “That’s the man I spoke to you about.”

  A short, skinny fellow wearing a soft cap sunk all the way down to his eyebrows greeted Hato with a bow and motioned him into the small room that served as his office. “My lord.”

  “Hush,” Hato said, taking in the room’s squalor, the dirt floor, the stink of sweat, tears and misery wafting from the room next door. “As my message clearly stated, we’re not supposed to be here. Your type of business is not condoned where we hail from.”

  “I understand.” The man took a seat on a wobbly stool before an old desk. “Many feel as you do, and yet they also find my trade convenient. What do you have for me?”

  “A ruined trader, a lying cheater with an addiction to greed and a perverted streak.”

  Aponte Rummins groaned. “No, my lord, please! We can come to an agreement, I’m sure—”

  Cirillo silenced him with a look.

  “I don’t suppose I can get much for him.” The merchant studied Aponte. “He’s fat, all flab and lard, and not very strong. He’d take lots of coin to feed. As to his skills, they’re probably useless to my clients.”

  “I have to agree,” Hato said. “But surely you can find a suitable buyer for ripe goods such as him.”

  “How much do you want for him?”

  “Me? Nothing. You can sell him for as little or as much as you can get and keep the full price.”

  “Really?” The man perked up.

  “Our requirements are of a different sort.”

  “Oh?”

  “We don’t want the fellow placed in a domestic household or a business. And we don’t want him to remain in the kingdom or in any of the territories. We don’t want him sold to Riva’s salt mines either, if only because with Riva dead, the mines are bound to experience change and we don’t want him cheating justice.”

  “Where would you like him sold, then?”

  “We want your assurances that he can be sold in the lands beyond The Wilds, preferably to the infamous mines after which Riva modeled his salt mines. It is said that Riva’s mines are like the gods’ halls compared to the mines in the lands beyond the Wilds. That’s where we want him sold.”

  “An excellent idea,” the trader said, “one that will be profitable for me and satisfactory for you.”

  Aponte started to bray and complain like a mule in pain.

  “What a racket.” The trader selected a leather strip from the ones hanging on the wall and offered it to Cirillo. “Would you like a gag for the noisy fellow?”

  Hato nodded and Cirillo proceeded to silence Aponte. It was a relief not to have to hear the coward’s wails any longer. Hato returned his attention to the merchant. “Would you be able to guarantee the outcome?”

  “A trader’s word is his currency. I can be faithful to your wishes ….”

  “But?”

  The man shifted uncomfortably in his stool. “There’s the small matter of legalities, my lord.” He cleared his throat. “Teos is very strict and I run a reputable business. One wouldn’t want to commit an innocent man to slavery on account of a quarrel, deceit or revenge.”

  “Of course not,” Hato said. “What sort of shrew would stoop to such tricks?”

  “Am I correct to assume that you have judgment papers for the ruffian?”

  “I do.”

  “May I ask, my lord, on whose authority are the papers signed?”

  Khalia dropped the heavy sheaf on the desk. “See for yourself.”

  The man’s eyes widened when he unfolded the papers. “Teos’s seal! We don’t get these very often.”

  “Teos wants this done exactly as my companion specified,” Khalia said in her most acrid tone. “Consider this a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to serve Teos. Should you fail to follow our instructions, you’ll lose your trader’s permit and forfeit your livelihood. You could be called under the airs at any time, so be thorough. And remember, Teos is ever present. Teos is always watching.”

  The man’s pronounced Adam’s apple bounced several times up and down his throat. If he had ever had any doubts about the importance of this transaction, they had been completely dispelled. He pocketed the papers and got up.

  “It’s done, my lord.” He selected a collar and clasped it around Aponte’s fleshy neck. “Be at ease.” He hooked a chain to the collar and tugged on it, dragging a wailing Aponte into the other room. “Consider the matter closed.”

  The world seemed cleaner when Hato left the slave master’s quarters. The light seemed sharper. The scents were more poignant but less putrid. He had never sold a man into slavery before. He knew he would never do it again, but he also knew that justice didn’t wear a clear face and fairness needed help. He knew he had served his lord well.

  Hato reached out and held Khalia’s hand. She flashed him one of the blinding smiles capable of restoring rightness to his world.

  He would continue to serve the Lord of Laonia for as long as Bren wanted him and in whatever capacity his lord needed his skills. But he would also serve Khalia. To his dying breath, he would toil to redress her hardship, restore her affection and amend his neglect.

  He was no remedy mixer, and yet he was set on bre
wing a new life for Khalia and himself. Life still held joy, promise, surprise and adventure, even for the likes of him. And whatever little time remained on his life’s shrunken calendar, he was going to seize it.

  Chapter Ninety-eight

  BREN SIGNALED THE PILOT TO YIELD the way. With a sudden shudder, the barge veered off towards the small cove etched on the river’s west shore, straining against the powerful current, plowing an arch of frothy furrows on the water. The crew trimmed the sails, catching the wind for one last glide into the cove’s calm waters, before furling the sails. The horses stopped, and with them, the wheels ceased turning as well. The anchors were dropped, a short plunge into shallow depths.

  Bren stood by the gunwales, watching as Teos’s galleys sailed by in the second procession of the cycle, commonly known as the Scarlet Tide because of the crimson surge created by the mature yearlings trailing the ships. This time, the ships led the adult yearlings upriver and back to the Lake of Tears. He could have raced ahead of the galleys if he had wanted—the refitted barge could have easily outrun Teos’s galleys—but he chose to follow the law. He had a future dealing with Teos, a future he hadn’t envisioned before.

  He called on Severo, who stood the watch by the pilot, tracking the Scarlet Tide’s progress through his scope.

  Severo snapped his scope shut and came over. “My lord?”

  “I’ve been meaning to speak to you,” Bren said.

  “My lord, I’m so sorry I allowed harm to come to the mistress,” Severo said contritely. “I understand it if you see fit to dismiss me, but I’d rather you punish me instead—”

  “Punish you?” Bren said. “On the contrary, my friend. I want to thank you for bringing your mistress through the great perils you faced with such extraordinary courage. She would have never survived the dangers if not for you. I know I owe you her life and for that I will always be grateful.”

  “She’s a brave one, my mistress.” Severo flashed a crooked smile.

  “I’m also grateful for your loyalty to me. I know the last few years have been rough. Without you, the outcome would have been very different. I would be dead and the gods only know what would have happened to Laonia. Most importantly, I want to thank you for finding her for me. Do you know what I mean?”