by Cale Madison
“I’ll be fine, thanks. If you don’t mind me asking, why would you choose to open your business here? A staffed brothel in such a small village?” I asked, noticing the great number of prostitutes in the room, “And why is there a pig pen outside?”
“Brothel? Such a nasty title.” she replied as she placed a bushel of purple grapes before the smiling baron, “I prefer to call this a Courtesan House. That’s what the ladies in Mocoreta call them and it does sound more refined. The pig pen...well...the previous owners of this building were farmers. We bought the land and the house and kept the pigs because I think they’re cute.”
“Why haven’t you brought your business to Brunson? More customers, more money to be made?” he inquired while shoveling the fruit into his mouth, “Hell, we always have room aboard our ship. Doesn’t pay well but you’d have all the company you could ever need.”
“Sounds tempting, my friend, but our place is on land. Law states that brothels pay double taxation and the Tuskan Guard don’t have to pay a copper. Wine, everluce...all of it, including a night’s stay with one of my girls. They can never have enough. Hard to turn a profit when all of your girls are bedded by soldiers for free. We tend to lay low in the outskirts while such laws are in place. Until they become more laxed, we’ll be a fly on the wall.” she said before narrowing her eyes, “You two aren’t from the palace, are you? The steel at your sides looks expensive but you don’t wear the knight's crest.”
“We’re not knights. Skalige Beucront, by the way.” my friend cooly introduced himself, sliding his hand across the table to shake hers.
She accepted the offer.
“Mira Monocau. Pleasure.”
“Well, Mira, we’re here looking for a young lad.” I said, interrupting their subtle flirtations. She laughed under her breath after hearing it. The ladies sprawled on the couches behind us began giggling as they whispered to one another.
“So you prefer the company of young boys, do you? I’d expect that from an Arrigonian or a maester in Veines, but you southerners typically prefer older women. I keep a few young girls for men like yourselves but no one here is under the age of fifteen.”
I smirked and waited for Skalige to burst into snickering, which he did.
“Funny girl, you are. We’re looking for Prince Malachi.”
“Ah, yes, I did hear that the prince disappeared. Shame that they won’t go search for him themselves. Seems they hired two foreigners to dirty their boots instead.” Mira replied with a scowl, “Those corrupt, cockless officials.”
“How would you know where we come from?” Skalige asked.
“Can’t mistake southern accents. Enough men pass through, all shapes and sizes from every corner of the world. Folk from Ataman heading north into the Further, Arrigonians heading east towards Tavetsche...most of them have a pleasant night’s stay here. Now, have you come here only to pester me or to spend time with my ladies?”
“He’ll do the pestering. I’ll spend some time.” the baron answered, laughing as he turned to wink his good eye at the spectating strumpets in the corner. Mira shook her head and then turned to face me.
“Ask away, then.”
“Nearly a week ago, we believe that the prince came through Bardford. Is there anything that you could tell us? Anything that might’ve seemed out of the ordinary?” I asked her.
“You’re not the first suit in armor to come sniffing around, you know? Men from the palace came here six nights ago and asked the same questions. Lead by some uniformed man in black armor. I’ll tell you exactly what I told them. It was nearing midnight and I was closing the bar. We heard a loud noise and felt a deep quake in the earth. All that was left was a half-eaten cow and that destroyed house on the hill.”
“Where did the sound come from?”
“North, towards the DuBois's farm. They’re an isolated bunch so it wouldn’t surprise me if they were up to something. Keep to themselves, mostly. Now that you’ve spent some of my time, how about we take some of yours?” Mira asked, snapping her fingers. Several lovely women stepped from a room behind the bar, each wearing a matching shirt with a short skirt. It was almost as if they waited on que for their master to call them.
Mira then brought a freckled redhead to us, removed her clothes as if meaning for us to analyze her body. The skinny woman batted her eyelashes at us and dazzled her beautiful, azul-colored eyes.
“What gets you going, southerner? Brunettes?” the barkeep asked, snapping her fingers once more. I watched in astonishment as the redhead that she once presented to me had suddenly transformed into an entirely different woman with dark brown hair. Her eyes became a light shade of brown and her freckles merged together to form an islander’s southern tan.
“Blondes?” she asked again, repeating the signal. The brunette’s hair became lighter and lighter until the locks turned golden before my very eyes. The baron’s mouth dropped open upon witnessing this miraculous spectacle. Her skin also changed with her hair, becoming darker or paler upon command. Everything drastically altered, including the sizes of her breasts and the wrinkles on her waistline; it were as if she could change into another woman’s body upon command.
“Ah, yes. You like blondes.” Mira noted as she recognized a certain flare in my eyes as the woman resembled Aketa with her flowing, golden hair, “We can give you tattooed, short-haired girls, quirky mistresses, any queen or noblewoman of the past three centuries...whatever fantasy you desire. For a handsome fee, of course. Nothing this spectacular comes for free.”
“Dopplers.” Skalige remarked, admiringly, “Definitely helps you stand out from competition in the area. My offer still stands, inviting you all to join us on our ship. I make the laws on our island and I’ll have you treated like royalty.”
“Tempting, but my answer is ‘no’. So what’ll it be, then?” the innkeep said with a smile.
“Maybe some other time.” I replied, prompting Mira to sigh and dismiss her girls, “We’re strictly here on business, sorry to disappoint.”
“Then so am I. Pay or leave.” she said, coldly.
***
Aketa stood in the Grand Terrace, a stone pavilion that overlooked a vast expanse of the countryside. Great mountains reached into the heavens in the distance, towering over the clouds and concealing the Further, the ridge between the southern and northern regions. Statues of Opheria watched over the many gardens and greenhouses below, each designed to represent one of the five Heavenly Virtues: prudence, temperance, bravery, faith and compassion.
She could see the port of Brunson in the far distance, sitting in a crevice between a chain of green hills and the Hallobar Sea. Even the skies seemed more blue and less cloudy than in Mercia. The warmth of the sun rested on her skin, reminding her of summer days in her youth. Noblemen and women strolled through orchards below, speaking elegantly about poets and misunderstood art. A bumblebee buzzed around her ear for a moment before soaring off into the gardens.
Aketa leaned over the stone railing and spotted Gavin walking alongside the queen between the hedges. He would reassuringly place his left hand on her shoulder from time to time, as if he were offering condolences or kind words to ease her pain. Escorting the pair were several armed knights who walked behind them, cautiously surveying the area.
“Always have to be watched over, don’t they?” Aketa said to herself.
“Can’t be too careful these days.” Darius interjected, stepping beside her.
“Oh, Your Majesty, my apologies...I thought I was alone.”
“Don’t ever apologize for speaking your mind, dear.” the King replied as he placed his hands on the railing, “Behind these walls, you’re never truly alone. I can’t dress myself in the morning without three sets of ears being pressed to my bedchamber door.”
“Price of being a father.”
“Price of a being a king.” he replied with a grin, “Unfortunately, I have thousands of ears listening as well. Thousands of unanswered questions I shall never have the time
to hear.”
“They seem to like you. At least in Brunson, they do.”
“I could care less about approval. My father led Tuskan through fear, as did his before him. War was always their priority. Never in the history of Lockmours has there been an era of peace until my time. Our country’s history is vastly different from Mercia’s, as you’re well aware.” he replied.
“But peace is good, isn’t it?” Aketa asked, turning towards the withered king. His golden crown shone in the daylight, brightly beaming atop his blonde hair.
“There’s a fine line between peaceful and vulnerable. I can’t lead my men into war after we’ve lost so many to the plague, and I can’t sit back as the enemy takes my children from my home.” Darius said, mostly speaking to himself, “And there’s no one to guide me or give me answers.”
“You’re certain Malachi was taken?”
“I’m not certain of anything anymore. It just gives my heart solace to think he’s alive.”
Aketa nodded, trying to understand.
“Caine tells me you have no children of your own.” the King stated, to which she shook her head, “They can be difficult sometimes, yes, but the look in their eyes when they’re first born in something spectacular. When they look up at you for the first time...you cannot replicate that feeling. I’ll never forget Malachi’s first steps or his first words.”
“Caine won’t stop until he finds him. He’s stubborn in that way.”
“Walk with me. We’ve spent a great deal of resources on these orchards. I always love to hear an outsider’s opinion. You’ll notice that some of these flowers stand out from the rest. The yellow hibiscuses were imported from de la Nome last spring. Isabelle loves their shade of golden red. Those camellias, the white flowers over there, are from Mocoreta. Alice wears one in her hair every Sunday for church. Over there, we planted magnolias. So tell me, Aketa, are the stories true? About the djinn?”
“All of it. Very much so.” Aketa answered as they began strolling into the palace gardens with armored guards trailing behind them, “I didn’t share the same experience as him, but I can tell you it was the longest week I’ve had to endure.”
“You were so close to death...what kept you from letting go?”
“Eh, hope, I guess.”
“Hope. One of humanity’s greatest qualities.” he replied with a broken smile, struggling to not dwell in negative thoughts, “It keeps us alive, even in the darkest of times. There are still villages we haven’t searched. I have to keep reminding myself this isn’t a nightmare.”
“I couldn’t imagine what you and your family are having to go through, but I assure you that Caine’s doing everything he can.” she said, watching as a glimmer of optimism sparked behind his eyes, “He’s never been one to let a task beat him. He once walked between Port Mercia and the furthest dock of the Northern Shores, searching for my favorite flower when we first met. This wasn’t some rose you could buy in the market. This was a purple aster. I told him they were very rare but he didn’t listen. He waded through every marsh until he found it...took him two weeks. He never gives up. That’s how I knew he was the one.”
“Your parents must have adored him. That’s the kind of man I imagine betrothing Alice to, someday. Rare to find a love like that.” said Darius as he leaned down to admire a bushel of turquoise-colored flowers, “Rare as these Ixias here.”
“I’d like to think they would. My mother passed when I was very young.” Aketa explained as they walked between the hedges, “My father plotted for me to attend a university in Ataman, but I had other plans. He wanted me to study medicine, but I hadn’t the desire to leave Mercia. It was my home. He saw Caine as a step backwards, only because it wasn’t in a direction that he approved...and there would always be work for a war doctor.”
Darius raised an eyebrow slightly, “Where is he now? If you don’t mind my asking.”
“Somewhere in Ataman City, I’m guessing. Haven’t spoken with him since the day we got married. I don’t know if he’s even alive,” she answered before halting, “but he should be content knowing that I’m happy, that I followed my heart instead of his rule.”
“I’ve no doubt that he would be. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for mine. A wise man once taught me that noble fathers raise noble sons. I’m sure the same goes for daughters, as well.”
“Your father said that?”
“No, I can’t remember the wise man’s name. Probably some decrepit maester. My father was a mean old drunk.” the King said with a smile. Aketa laughed, her attention becoming drawn to a rose bush that dangled from the hedges. A bushel of violet hollyhocks swayed in the gentle breeze, hosting several bumblebees as they searched for nectar.
“These azaleas were delivered from Villaneuva.” he suddenly said, gesturing to a bush filled with a multitude of colorful flowers, “Southerners adore them. Every garden in the South has at least twenty azaleas somewhere. Azaleas and crepe myrtles. Isabelle was the youngest princess from Mocoreta. She had them delivered on the night she came here. Her first act as queen was to begin working on these gardens. She always told me they reminded her of the gardens back home. Everyone just wants to feel more at home, I suppose.”
“The queen’s from Villaneuva?” Aketa asked as they began to walk again.
“Emrich Viscgota’s her brother. Our fathers wed us when we were very young, a long time ago. They did it to solidify allies in the North during their war with Orthos, back when the Far Northerners cared about what happened beyond the mountains.” the King answered, smiling, “What sweet memories those were. Neither of us wanted each other. She would stick her tongue out at me when her father wasn’t looking. I did the same. We were young and mean-spirited. Slept in separate towers until we got older.”
Aketa smiled, imagining Darius and Isabelle as rancorous children.
“A classic tale. Has Arrigon always been at war with some other country?” she asked.
“As far back as I can remember. Their duchess wants to rule everything south of the Further, same as most kings. But their war does not concern us in the slightest. We’re building an empire now and cannot risk losing it. Once the last banner falls and Arrigon slinks away with its tail between its legs, Tuskan will be the dominant power.” he replied, not realizing that Aketa had stopped to smell a white rose, “But politics shouldn’t interest you. You’re probably bored with the conversation. My apologies. I haven’t talked much lately. I’m surrounded by generals and lieutenants who thoughtlessly agree to my every decision.”
“I couldn’t imagine.” she said, unable to come up with a better response.
“How could you? Mercia has no kings, no dukes or barons. Your little island sits between two forces waging the greatest war the world has ever known, and you neither see nor hear a second of it. I’m beginning to think you and Caine are just the luckiest pair in the universe.” the King said with a grin, “But, much like gardening and agriculture, the hardest, dirtiest part is prepping the soil and planting the seeds. Given enough time, the flower breaks through the surface and blooms. This terrible war will come to an end, as everything does.”
Before he could continue walking, Aketa interjected and asked, “Would you mind if I spoke in private with each of your children? Asked them questions, regarding the night that Malachi disappeared?”
“By all means. I’ll send for them immediately.”
***
Skalige and I departed from Mira’s, ascending a green hill that led us towards the DuBois’s property. I noticed a dismantled building in the distance, appearing to have been recently destroyed by some great, unknown force. Piles of charred lumber and scattered bricks lay in heaps of rubble around the site of destruction. We stepped over a crushed fence line, which lay as mere splinters now. Our horses whinnied nervously, trotting in place and thrashing their tails. Two young vineyard workers spotted us as we rapidly approached but continued to work as if they hadn’t noticed.
“Pardon me. What happened he
re?” I asked one of them. The two adolescent laborers scratched their filthy necks, set their bushels of plucked grapes down on the grass and then replied in unison, “We know nothing, sirs.”
“That was a quick answer, Caine.” the baron said before he spat into the high grass, “Almost too quick. Sounded damn near rehearsed to me.”
I surveyed the two boys, each appearing as if they had been reciting that response for days. Beads of sweat began rolling down their faces and their sun-tanned legs began to wobble. When my eyes met theirs, they were quick to avert their gaze. I noticed this irregularity and repeated, “One last time...what happened to this house, here? No lies.”
“We know nothing.” they said together, almost entirely choreographed.
Skalige suddenly dropped from his horse, leapt upon one of the young men and held him up by his tunic collar, shouting, “Tell us what happened here or by the King’s orders you will be imprisoned immediately...or worse, you’ll have to deal with me! I’ll shove you down into that well and feed you slop from the pig’s trough until you start squealin’!”
The frightened boy shouted the same response several times during the interrogation but then something caught my attention: a young, brown-haired girl peering out from behind a stable gate behind the farmhouse. She quickly retreated once she had spotted me. I nudged my aggravated companion and he released the boy. The two young workers sprinted away, sobbing uncontrollably with the stench of piss lining their trousers.
I then led Skalige to the old barn. We approached cautiously, checking inside before we entered together. Old farming scythes, hacksaws and axes hung draped across the walls and dangled from the ceiling like drained meat from hooks in a slaughterhouse. Pollen filled the windy air and residue from trampled hay lingered with it. The only sounds accompanying us were the songs of ospreys outside and crickets in the tall grass.
“Come out, now. We’re not with the Lockmours.” I announced into the seemingly empty barn, “We’re only here to learn about Malachi. Your mother sent us.”