Agata smiled.
Chapter Twenty-nine
'Quiet!' Rabel trawled her fingers through her hair.
'Mama. Mama,' cried Aula.
Rabel paced, wearing a path in the dirt floor, a cloud of dust trailing her skirts. She rubbed her shoulders and watched the door.
'I shouldn't have done it,' she muttered, tearing at her scalp. 'I'm wicked. I must confess.'
She opened the front door. It should have happened by now. Outside the day was fading into night.
'Waiting for Pa?' said Teo, appearing from the stables next door.
'Yes,' Rabel said, covering her mouth with her hands.
Her oldest boy came inside and slumped on the bench. 'I hope he never comes home.'
Rabel said nothing as she closed the door and lit the candle stub in the centre of the table, all the while keeping one eye on the door.
'I'll put on the stew,' she said.
'Not hungry, Ma.'
Rabel turned from the hearth with a frown, his face was paler than usual. Almost green.
'I feel bad.'
Teo squeezed his eyes shut, hunching his narrow shoulders as he clutched at his belly. Rabel laid her hand on his forehead.
'You're burnin'. You must eat. Then straight to sleep.'
'No, Ma...'
His words were cut short by a rush of vomit, gushing from his mouth and splashing all over the dirt floor. Rabel rubbed his back.
'There. There. Let it out.'
'My belly, Ma,' he said weakly, red froth bubbling around his lips. His shirt stained crimson. He gagged again, red liquid surging from his mouth, his eyes straining in their sockets.
'Did you eat something bad?' she said, the rancid smell singeing her nostrils. Then her words hit her. 'No,' she whispered, clutching at her throat. 'No.'
Teo crumpled to the ground, spluttering, his thin arms jerking.
She turned, crashing full force into the table as she rushed to slop water into a bowl. She pulled back Teo's head and forced water into his mouth. Teo shoved the bowl away and spewed again, choking and sobbing like one of the twins.
She stared helplessly at him. 'She didn't tell me how to stop it.' Tears streamed down her face. 'No. Teo. My boy. Not you.'
He writhed on the dirt floor in his own bloody vomit, arms thrashing, whole body convulsing.
Rabel fell to her knees, cradling her boy to her breast, her eyes skywards. 'No. No, Father. Take me instead.'
Teo slapped her in the face with his flailing hands. She only felt her heart being ripped from her chest.
The twins wailed, and Rabel howled along with them. She called his name but Teo did not respond as more blood poured from his mouth.
Then Teo stopped shuddering. So very still.
'No,' she screamed, shaking him but his head lolled.
'No!'
His open sightless eyes stared at her, accusing, unrelenting.
Rabel ignored the knocking on the door, burying her head in his chest, sobbing.
The door opened. Her heart plummeted. Iwan was home. She'd mixed up the bowls somehow. She should have known this was how it would end.
'Goodwife?'
Rabel jerked her head up and stared.
Two strangers stood in the doorway, propping up Iwan. He was dead drunk, his head flopping forward against his chest. Hot tears stung her eyes, Teo was gone but her no-good husband was back.
'Put him over there,' she croaked.
The two men dropped Iwan onto the bed.
'He was sick...' the bald one started.
Iwan's head rolled back, his face covered in red smears, his lips colourless.
Rabel's breath froze in her throat. Everything slowed down. It was as if she was travelling through tar.
'Iwan?' she whispered.
'What happened to the boy?' the bald man asked.
She placed Teo's head gently down on the ground and struggled to her feet.
The bearded man clutched his hands in front of his chest. 'He had a fit in the tavern. Spewed great loads of blood and he never got up again. In the eyes of the Father.'
The two men made the sign of the Father on their foreheads.
'Let's get out of here.' The bearded one pointed at Teo's body. 'They've all got it.'
The men hurried out and slammed the door, leaving Rabel alone with two dead bodies and two small children. She darted between Teo and Iwan. Teo. Iwan. Both bodies were growing colder by the moment.
Rabel slumped to the ground, wrapped her arms around her head and screamed.
She had got what she wanted. She had got what she deserved.
Chapter Thirty
The Duke snored softly in her bed but Agata was wide awake. She slipped over to the window and opened up the book, leaning against the windowsill to catch the light of the moon.
The radiant Queen angled her head, her snowy hair shimmering in the candlelight.
'Who are you?' she said, speaking our language with a musical lilt. I bowed my head as I was told. 'Simple men of the faith from the lands of Vorosy. Visiting your lands to share the wise Teachings of the Father with your people.'
'Whose Father?' she scoffed.
'He is Father of all. The one true Father. Creator, Protector, the all-seeing.'
Her forehead furrowed. 'One Father? For all of us?'
'Yes.'
The guide kicked at the back of my knee. 'Address Queen Magnilla with respect.'
I cleared my throat. 'Yes, Queen Magnilla.'
'You are here to teach us of your Father?'
'Yes.'
'With no weapons.'
'I do not need a sword. I have his Teachings.' I held up my book.
'You are here to conquer me with your papers?' She burst out laughing and her courtiers on the cushions around the firepits, laughed along with her. It was then I noticed, her court had equal numbers of men and women. These were not the unsavoury flesh-baring women of the taverns or noble women sitting in the shadows. They sat alongside the men. I tore my eyes away from these strange sights and answered the Queen's question.
'I am not here to conquer you, gracious Queen. I am here to share the Father's love. So you and all your people can benefit from His wisdom. Like thousands of your countrymen in the other Four Clans.'
She sneered. 'Countrymen? What is this word? There are not only men here. Is the Father only for your men or do women love your Father too?'
This was not a matter I had ever considered. It was too obvious to ever question. Our women followed the men, this is what the Father taught. I opened my mouth to answer.
She waited, head tilted.
'The Father loves all equally,' I said, finally finding my tongue.
She blinked very slowly then gestured for more wine. A young man poured a clear drink into her goblet. Do the Akull Clansmen drink only water?
She turned to her court and asked a question in her own language. I looked to the other Cousin and he shrugged back. The educated man stepped forward and translated into my ear.
'Queen Magnilla said 'what shall I do with them?''
Shouts of reply filled the dome and I could not understand a word.
Our translator pointed to a man missing a front tooth and repeated his words. 'Banish 'em.'
He next pointed to a woman with wide rosy cheeks. 'She said 'leave 'em in the snows.''
'And he...' The translator gestured to a man whose face was crumpled with age. 'He said 'take off their 'eads. And send 'em back to Sulun. A gift from Meeraq.''
I gasped.
Then a slim girl, barely old enough to be away from her mother, spoke. Her words were unfamiliar but her voice was clear and thoughtful, in a way I had rarely heard from a woman before. She was like a man but not like a man.
The translator repeated her words. 'Let them speak,' she said.
My heart thundered in my chest. My fellow Cousin grasped my sleeve. Queen Magnilla held out her hands for silence and the ruckus stopped.
The educated man continu
ed to translate the Queen's words. 'Why should I let them speak, Senu?'
The young girl, slender and white-haired like a lily, smiled as she rose to her feet and bowed. 'Let us hear their ways, so we can learn.'
The silver haired man grumbled.
Queen Magnilla nodded. 'I too am curious, too.' She turned back to us and spoke in our language. 'Sit.'
The guards cleared a space on the floor by her throne and the Cousin and I lowered ourselves onto the cushions with creaking knees. I accepted a goblet but it was not water at all. The burning liquid was stronger than any home-stilled brandy. My fellow Cousin spluttered out the first mouthful, much to the delight of the courtiers. I refused a second cup, as men of the Fatherhood should, but my Cousin was not as pious. He asked for more when his goblet ran dry.
'Tell me more of this Father of yours,' the Queen said.
I took a deep breath and began with a smile. 'The Father created all.' I waited as the Queen listened intently and the educated man repeated my words to the rest of the court. 'From the dirt to the sky. Every animal. Every man. The rain. The sea. The snow. All come from Him.'
'How does a man give life?' Magnilla said, with a squint. 'Do men birth babies in the South Rivers?'
'Of course not. His seed started it all. He is the originator. That's why we call him the Father.'
'But who births the people? Who nurtures them?'
'Females, of course. But they are only the vessel for the male seed.'
'Only?' She narrowed her eyes. 'Can two men have a baby?'
I tried not to grimace at the mere suggestion of such a union. The other Cousin guffawed and slobbered in my ear. 'She is an imbecile.'
I pushed him and his sour breath away. 'Of course, two men cannot have a baby. A woman is needed like a bowl to carry the water. Men cannot lay with one another. It is forbidden.'
'Why?'
'It is unnatural.'
'But you said, men loving other men is part of the Fatherhood. Do you not love the Father?'
'Not in that way.'
She shrugged. 'Why is it different?'
'It is a sin.'
'But why? Your sin is just a word. There must be a reason. I thought your Father encouraged love.'
I opened my mouth but no words came forth. She leaned back in her throne with a smirk.
'So, where does this Father live?'
'In the sky. In the Land Beyond the Sunset.'
'What does he look like? Does he speak to you?'
'Not directly.' I scratched my head. I could not tell whether her questions were mocking or not. 'He cannot be seen. Only sensed through his love and his power.'
'Is he here now?'
'Of course. He is in this room. He is inside you and me.'
She laughed. 'He's not inside me.'
'Oh, but he is.'
She shook her head. 'I would not allow it. It's unnatural.'
Her courtiers burst out laughing.
The Cousin grunted and I opened my mouth to protest, heat prickling up my neck, but I calmed my ire with deep breaths. I knew converting unbelievers to the light of the Father would not be easy. I had to be patient. This was only another test of my faith.
The Queen loomed over me. I gulped as I looked up into her silver eyes, unable to read her face. 'I am tired of this talk,' she said with a flourish of her hand. 'I do not yet understand your love for the man in the sky. It does not make sense. Come back with better reasons tomorrow.'
'Yes, Queen Magnilla,' I said as she swept from the room. I wiped the sweat from my brow and began preparing passages for the next evening in my head. The first step was complete, I had her curiosity and I knew the Father would win her heart, in time.
Chapter Thirty-one
The stench of stale ale, vomit and fish guts struck Kalin as he stepped inside the Seaweed Arms. The red-brick drinking house was as shabby as its patrons.
'Get a round of ales, Seliv,' he said, hoping a drink would drown out the scent.
'Thank you kindly, m'Lord,' Eeva tittered.
Kalin eyed her coldly. 'And ask the landlord about this churl.'
He squinted at three men hunched over the bar, staring into their tankards, the room shadowy with cheap struggling candles. Over to the side, a group of fishermen stopped their game of King's Table and whispered. Off to the side, in an adjoining smaller room, an old woman and a younger man sat by the hearth. In ordinary company, the man would be considered burly but not compared to a mountain like Seliv.
'Well? Is he here?' Kalin turned to the boy and his mother.
Wilken shrugged while Eeva took her time to look. 'It doesn't look like it.'
Kalin raised his eyebrows as he took a slurp from the wooden tankard Seliv handed him, but the ale was fresh. He'd tasted far worse in his time. He took another sip as Eeva emptied her tankard in a single draft.
'The landlord was useless,' Seliv said. 'But our description is very muddy.'
Kalin marched past the bar and through into the room with the hearth, waving Seliv over.
'Old woman. You know who I am?'
The grey-haired woman raised her head and smiled without missing a beat of her knitting. 'Yes, Lord Kalin.'
'We are looking for a man.'
'Always glad to help the Duchy, my Lord.'
'Excellent. You boy, tell her.'
Seliv thrust Wilken forward, the boy stared down at his holed boots and muttered.
'Speak up.' Kalin clipped him.
Eeva jumped in. 'A skinny man. Used to work on the boats. Likes his cock fights.'
'Could be anyone.' The old woman shrugged. 'Plenty like that in here.'
Kalin sighed. 'Get another round.'
'How very kind of you, my Lord,' the old woman said. 'But I am getting on in years. My memory is not quite what it was. Soon the Father will take me, hopefully, to the Land Beyond the Sunset.'
Kalin rolled his eyes but kept his hands away from his purse.
The tavern door opened and Kalin spun around. But the man was tall and fleshy, the complete opposite to the one they were looking for. The man approached the bar, dressed in a fine coat of brown wool unlike the other drinkers, and waited for the landlord to finish serving Seliv.
Kalin started for the bar, his eyes narrowed.
'I might know...' the old lady said as he walked away.
'Master Plesec?' Kalin said.
Plesec flinched. 'Lord Kalin. What are you doing in here?' He said, flushing red.
'I was wondering the same thing about you.'
'Passing by,' he said with an awkward chuckle. 'I heard their ale is not bad.'
'It is surprisingly drinkable. You have business in the Alleys?' Kalin frowned.
'Meeting a goat-farmer, my Lord.'
Kalin nodded, not believing a word.
The door opened again, but before Kalin could catch sight of him, someone in the room yelled, 'Shield!'
The door slammed shut.
Kalin glanced around. 'Who said that?' he shouted.
Everyone bowed their heads.
Seliv offered Kalin another tankard.
'No time for that,' growled Kalin. 'After him!'
Chapter Thirty-two
After another sullen dinner, Froma retired to a chair by the fire to inspect the household accounts.
'Wife!' Danis's bellow echoed down the wood-panelled hallway. Froma cringed.
'Come here now!'
Froma scurried from the hall to his Cabinet room, her heart pattering. She paused before the doorway, pulling herself up to her full height and clearing her throat.
'What is this gibberish?' Danis was sitting behind his hefty wooden desk, his big fingers jabbing at a page in the ledger, a goblet in his other hand.
'What is it, husband?' Froma stepped forward with her head high, trying to hide the tremble in her knees.
'This.' He pointed. 'What is this?'
Froma stood beside him, leaning over to read the entry. He reached up and gripped her by the throat, his fingers
crushing her windpipe, pulling her face down to the page, an inch above the print.
'This is your scribing?'
She gagged and he loosened his grip. 'Yes, husband. Who else would it be?' she croaked.
'I should have never lost that bet. Who needs a wife who can read? Especially one as ugly as you.' His breath was thick with wine. 'There. What price did you sell to Vinko?'
Froma stuttered and he slammed her head onto the page hard, the shock splintered across her face, the room swayed before her eyes.
'Are you deaf? What price?'
She blinked rapidly. 'Thirteen coppers a pound.'
'What?' he roared, shoving her away. She tripped and hit the floor with a thud. He tossed his wine into her face, followed by the goblet. The pewter cup ricocheted off her head and clattered to the ground. 'You sow. What kind of price is that?'
Froma scuttled backwards, red wine streaming down her face. 'It was second rate wool. Vinko was one of our only buyers. It was a fair price.'
'And now he will not pay any more.' Danis loomed over her. 'I thought the snake was lying to me. But here it is and it's all your fault. I should have known. You spoiled a good client. Stupid woman.'
'If you let me talk to him. As you suggested at breakfast,' Froma said cowering, her hands in the air protecting her face.
He guffawed. 'After what you have done?'
Danis grabbed her around the throat, his thumbs pressing hard against her windpipe. Her ears thumped as he squeezed, the sound of struggling blood.
'Idiot. I come home to this. A year of men being slaughtered all around me. A sea of blood and guts. Shit and mud. Grown men screaming and crying like babies. And now it's all over. And my business in ruins!'
Froma tore at his hands, gouged with her fingernails but his sword-hardened grip was too strong. She tried to call out for help, but all she could do was gurgle. No one would come to her aid anyway. Irina had been deaf and blind for years.
'Stupid, stupid woman.' Danis gritted his teeth as he pressed harder. 'I could kill you right now.'
Danis, the furniture, the walls, the whole room blurred. Froma's pain and panic subsided, and a lightness, a sense of peace, descended over her. Froma was no longer in his Cabinet room. She was up above, looking down on a woman who looked like her but she was safe, somewhere far away. The room darkened, her eyelids were so heavy and she wanted to sleep. If only he'd let her sleep.
Women of Wasps and War Page 15