Billy cleared his throat. "As you know, Lord Skerrick was due to pay us a visit this morning." Ordella's breath caught in her lungs. "It would seem, however, that there's been a change of plan." She exhaled. Perhaps something had happened to him. She crossed her fingers behind her back. Maybe he'd been struck down by the flux and had died in a pile of his own filth.
Billy's eyes flicked to the right, and Ordella followed his gaze. Her face fell. "It would seem that we are the visitors. Lord Skerrick is already here."
Skerrick stood in the shadows by the far wall of the chamber, his hands clasped behind his back. A coiled leather whip hung from his left hip and a sheathed dagger from his right. He walked towards them, picking his way through the piles of filth.
Ordella fixed her eyes on the crest embroidered onto the front of his purple doublet. Unlike Billy and the other guards, Skerrick didn't wear the labyrinth emblem of the Warren. Instead, his chest was emblazoned with a crown and sword. King's Retinue.
Riggett stepped towards Skerrick.
"It's such an honor to have you with us, my Lord," Riggett said, attempting to bow while holding his heavy ledger. He staggered to keep his balance, and looked up at his superior, his cheeks reddening. Skerrick walked straight past him and addressed Billy.
"Guard Bowyer, please proceed as normal. I am primarily here to observe, but as you know"—Skerrick looked at the women, and tapped his coiled whip with his gloved hand—"I will intervene as and when I see fit."
"Of course, my Lord," Billy said. He nodded to Riggett.
Now more composed, Riggett placed the book by his feet and blew his whistle.
"Buckets and barrels!"
Sara and Winn, the first two women in line, fetched the wooden buckets from the platform and stacked them in the center of the chamber. The second pair, Little Jane and Martha, rolled the water barrels over to the buckets and began to fill them using one of the smaller buckets as a ladle. Ordella kept her eyes on Skerrick. His face was stony and impossible to read.
By the time the brushes had been added to the buckets, and Riggett's ledger table had been set up, Skerrick was standing by the barrels in the middle of the room. Ordella sneaked a look at her grandmother. Gwenith stood straighter than she had for weeks. Perhaps she'd get through this after all.
Riggett sat at his table, book open and quill in hand.
"Collect your buckets," he said. He turned to Skerrick as if searching for a sign of approval. Skerrick didn't acknowledge him at all.
Billy led the women over to the buckets. Gwenith was in front of Ordella, and, although Ordella noticed some stiffness to the old woman's gait, she didn't think it would be obvious to anyone else.
"Stay in line, pick up a bucket and follow Guard Bowyer to the far corner of the chamber. He will give you further instructions when you are there as to how to proceed." Riggett was putting on a real show for Skerrick. Ordella snorted. Idiot! Surely he wasn't doing himself any favors.
Skerrick didn't even look in Riggett's direction. He stood by the water barrels and studied each woman in turn as they lifted their buckets off the ground and filed past him.
Ordella reached her bucket and grasped the handle. She delayed picking it up until she was sure her grandmother, bent down in front of her, had managed to balance her load.
Gwenith grunted and raised the pail off the tiles. Somehow she managed to pull it up to her side without spilling a single drop. Ordella walked a few paces, trying hard not to clip her grandmother's heels.
Skerrick's flinty gaze set upon Ordella as she approached. She stared forwards, focused only on her grandmother's crooked back.
Ordella walked on. Gwenith was just about to move past Lord Skerrick when she stumbled. Her grip on her bucket gave way, and it crashed against the tiles. Water and lye cascaded over the sides, splashing Skerrick's black boots. Gwenith was pitched forward, and she barreled into Skerrick. He stepped back.
Ordella let her own bucket fall to the ground. She moved to help her grandmother, but before she could reach her, Gwenith had regained her footing. With a quickness that seemed to take Skerrick completely by surprise, Gwenith snapped her hand up and snatched the dagger from his belt. She thrust the blade upwards, catching him on his forearm.
Skerrick cursed. He struck Gwenith across the face with his gloved hand, sending her sprawling to the ground. Her head clunked against the floor, and she let go of the man's dagger. It skittered across the flagstones.
Ordella was rooted to the spot. The room started to spin. She blinked once, and then again, desperately trying to clear her mind, to make sense of what she'd just witnessed. Her grandmother wasn't moving.
Billy, Riggett, and the other women had stopped what they were doing and had turned towards the commotion. No one said a word. All eyes were on Skerrick.
He stood over her grandmother and poked at her ribs with the toe of his boot. She didn't respond. Every fiber in Ordella's body yearned to be at her grandmother's side, but she couldn't. She'd only make things worse.
Skerrick took a step back. He slowly pulled up his sleeve and inspected the wound. A thin red line snaked down his forearm. The cut looked neat and shallow, barely more than a scratch. He balled his hand into a fist and wiped away the small droplets of blood trickling across his skin. He let his sleeve fall back in place, bent down and retrieved his dagger.
With the blade out in front of him, Skerrick turned towards Gwenith's crumpled body.
No! Ordella put her hands to her mouth. A scream formed in the back of her throat.
Skerrick bent down. He hovered over Gwenith for a moment, dagger outstretched.
Ordella wanted to cry out, but the words caught and came out as a yelp. Skerrick tipped his head and glared at her, his cold eyes daring her to intervene. He drew back the dagger. Ordella gulped. She tried to step forward, but strong hands from behind held her back. Her limbs were numb, and her vision was starting to blur.
Skerrick paused, then dropped his dagger-hand to his side, as if something had just occurred to him.
His gaze settled on Billy's face. The young guard stared at the floor. Skerrick grinned, sheathed his dagger and stood up straight.
Ordella stared at Lord Skerrick, her mind racing and her heart pounding in her chest. What in all Ellusia was happening? Surely he wouldn't let her go unpunished.
Skerrick walked over to stand in front of Billy.
"Guard Bowyer," he said. He waited for Billy to look up. "I need you to take care of this for me. Kill the insolent bitch."
Billy gulped, but he met Skerrick's eyes.
Ordella's head pounded and all the saliva drained from her mouth. Please refuse him. She balled her hand, digging her nails into her palms. Just say you won't do it.
"Yes, my Lord," Billy said. His face was pale, and he dropped his eyes back down to the ground again.
"Thank you, Guard Bowyer."
Skerrick strode over to the lift platform and stepped into the box. Cupping his hand to his mouth, he shouted up to the guard at the top of the chamber. A few moments later, the chains screeched into action, and the platform began to judder its way up the face of the wall.
Ordella pulled away from the hands of the women behind her and ran over to her grandmother. She bent down by Gwenith's side. A purple bruise had spread across the right side of the old woman's wrinkled face, and the skin above her eyebrow was grazed and broken.
"Grandmother," Ordella said. She stroked Gwenith's forehead. "Grandmother. Wake up."
Ordella turned to Billy. The guard hadn't moved at all since Skerrick had given him his orders. "Don't do it. You can't."
Billy's eyes were wide, and he seemed to look right through her. "I don't have a choice."
"For me," she said. "I'm begging you."
Billy drew a knife from his belt and stepped closer.
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Ordella. I truly am."
She launched herself at him. Her calloused hands scrabbled at his arms, and her fists pounded his chest.
Billy pivoted and fended her off.
"Riggett!" he shouted. "Hold her still."
Wiry arms clamped her flailing arms against her sides. She pushed back, but Riggett was surprisingly strong. She tried to wriggle free, squirming against him. The guard squeezed her tighter. Bolts of pain shot across her shoulders and down her back. She stood still.
Billy knelt down beside her grandmother. Beads of sweat dripped from his brow, and the knife trembled in his hands. He took a few deep breaths and wiped his forehead on his sleeve. Ordella swallowed back bitter bile. Her eyes burned, and tears streamed down her face. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't.
In spite of the bruising, her grandmother's face was peaceful, as if she was taking a doze in the summer sun.
Billy took one more deep breath. He turned the knife over in his hand, then he plunged the blade into Gwenith's chest.
Ordella let out a bloodcurdling scream. She kicked out against Riggett. He released his grip. Billy withdrew the knife and backed away from the body.
Ordella rushed over to her grandmother. She cradled her head in her arms. Sobs wracked her body.
"Move away everyone. Get to work. The chamber won't clean itself." The words seemed muffled and distant, and she wasn't sure whose voice it was.
A red stain was spreading across the front of her grandmother's tunic. Ordella bent her head close over her grandmother's face. Was that a breath against her cheek?
"Grandmother, it's me, Ordella. I'm here."
Nothing. She hugged her closer. Tears spilled from her eyes and dripped onto her grandmother's gray hair. "I'm here, Grandmother. I'm not leaving you."
Gwenith coughed. Flecks of blood spattered her cracked lips. She coughed again. Her eyes opened. She made a guttural sound, and streaks of blood spewed from the corner of her mouth.
"Don't say anything," Ordella said. She wiped at her tears. "I'm here."
Her grandmother blinked, and her face contorted. Her eyes narrowed, and she lifted her skeletal arm. Ordella clenched her grandmother's hand and felt a tiny squeeze in return. Gwenith turned her head ever so slightly. Her breathing became ragged.
I'm losing her. She wiped some more blood from her lips and kissed her gently on her forehead.
"Find your father." The words took Ordella by surprise. Her grandmother's voice was faint and scratchy. "I know he's alive."
Ordella smoothed her grandmother's hair.
"Promise me," Gwenith said.
"I promise. Wherever he is, I will find him."
A smile traced across Gwenith's bloodstained lips, and the tension seemed to drain from her body. Her grip on Ordella's hand loosened, and her eyes closed.
Ordella placed a final kiss on the old woman's cheek.
"Goodbye, Grandmother."
Four
Ordella opened her eyes and swallowed. Her tongue was thick, and a bitter taste filled her mouth. She ran her fingers through her hair and glanced up. She was on her own cot back in the Hutch, but where was everyone else?
She hopped off her bed and stretched. Her grandmother's bed hadn't been slept in. Her blanket was neatly folded on top of the straw-filled mattress. She scanned the room. It was the same with all of the other beds. Ordella's heart raced. Why was she here alone? Something was wrong.
"Ordella." She whirled around in the direction of the voice. "Come and sit with me."
Merisca was perched on the bench next to the cook fire, darning a hole in a worn tunic draped across her lap.
Ordella touched the front of her own tunic. She traced her grandmother's expert stitching with her fingers. She’d watched in awe as her grandmother had created the hidden pocket. It had been as if she was working on one of the silk party dresses from back when they were still in Rittle, and not just a plain old piece of coarse cloth. Her grandmother had never been happier than when she was sewing. Ordella could picture her now, surrounded by vibrant fabric, the sun shining in through the cottage's open door.
And then Ordella remembered.
She sank to her knees. Sobs wracked her body. In her mind, Skerrick loomed over her grandmother's body. A bloodstained knife dropped from Billy's hands and clanged against the flagstones. The rise and fall of her grandmother's chest as she took her last breath. Ordella clenched her fists and pounded the floor.
Merisca's arms wrapped around her. She led her over to the bench next to the cook fire and helped her to sit down.
"Billy brought you back here." Merisca held out a cup of water. "You passed out in the chamber, and he thought you'd fare better back in your own bunk."
Ordella sniffed and took the cup. "How very noble of him.” Her voice was louder than she'd intended. "Did he also tell you that he was the one who killed my grandmother? That he was the one who plunged a knife into her body as she lay defenseless on the ground?"
Merisca nodded. "He did."
She picked up an iron poker and prodded a log closer to the flames.
"I can't believe he'd do such a thing." Ordella choked back her tears. "I really thought he was different to the others."
"He was following orders," Merisca said.
"But he could have refused."
The fire hissed and crackled. Merisca used the poker to rake some of the embers forward.
"That's true. He could have refused Lord Skerrick's command, but, had he done so, he would have suffered the same fate as your grandmother. Rigget, or perhaps Skerrick himself, would have executed him on the spot. He made a choice." Merisca stared straight at her. "Just like your grandmother did when she decided to attack Lord Skerrick."
"How dare you!" Ordella leaped to her feet. "How dare you compare the two." She stepped away and then paused. She'd been so focused on what happened at the end, she'd been ignoring how everything had started. What in all Ellusia had her grandmother been thinking? She must've known it was only going to end one way.
She turned back to Merisca. "Why did she do it? She was so much brighter this morning. More her old self."
"I think you know the answer to that question," Merisca said. "She did it for you."
"For me!" Ordella sat down on the bench. "And how did her death, the death of the person I loved most in the whole world, actually help me?" She rubbed her eyes. "I never wanted this. I never asked for this."
"No, you didn't." Merisca gripped Ordella's hand. "But perhaps it's what you needed."
Ordella's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak.
Merisca cut her off. "Would you have used the bloodcap if Gwenith still lived?"
Ordella pulled her hand from Merisca's grasp. "How do you know about that?"
The Islander hesitated as if collecting her thoughts.
"How I know isn't important." She poked at the fire again. "Your grandmother loved you dearly, Ordella. Everything she did in this place, she did for you." Merisca ran her hand through her curls. "And her last act was no exception."
Ordella blinked back tears, and Merisca put her arm around her.
"You are lucky enough to have found a way out. Your grandmother was the only thing keeping you here. She's given you the greatest gift of all. She's given you a chance of freedom. With her death, she has presented you with the opportunity to start your life anew. You just have to take it."
Ordella's mind filled with the image of the bloodcap wilting in a cloth pouch under the wooden frame of her cot. Was Merisca right? Would she ever have used it if her grandmother still lived? She shook her head. She couldn't be certain, but she wouldn't allow her grandmother's death to be for nothing. She'd made her a promise and she certainly wouldn't be able to discover the fate of her father if she remained a prisoner of the Warren.
Ordella sniffed, wiped her eyes and walked over to her bunk. She crouched down and ran her hands under the bed's front edge. Her fingers touched the piece of cloth she'd tied to form a simple bag. She pulled it out, ripped it open and dumped the contents into her palm. The bloodcap was even more shriveled than it'd been yesterday, but it hadn't yet dried out
completely. Surely it would still work.
She hurried over to the firepit, the bloodcap cupped in her hand.
"Please tell me I haven't waited too long." She handed the toadstool to Merisca. The Islander grasped the bloodcap by its stalk and inspected the surface of its white dome. She turned it over and examined the gills on the underside of the cap, then dug her thumbnail into the stem. A small blob of red liquid oozed out of the mark she'd made. Merisca smiled. "It's on the turn," she said. "But you're not too late."
Ordella let out the breath she'd been holding in. She reached out to take the toadstool back from Merisca, then stopped.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it," she said. "I know I'm meant to eat it, but how much? Do I cook it first? Do I grind it up? I haven't got the first idea." She chewed on her lip. "Do you know anything about bloodcaps?"
Merisca nodded. "I can help you, Ordella, on one condition."
"Anything." Ordella looked up. "I'll do anything. Tell me what I must do."
Merisca stared straight at her. "You must take me with you. We'll take the Slave's Gamble together"
Ordella nodded. What choice did she have?
"Good," Merisca said. "Now that's settled, we have much to do."
She placed the bloodcap in a wooden bowl and turned to Ordella. "We have several hours before the others return. I will need to concentrate on preparing the bloodcap, so you'll have to complete my chores. Everything must be as it always is. No one must suspect a thing."
She pointed over to the area of the Hutch curtained off by a drape of roughly spun material. "You can start by emptying the chamber pots."
*****
Ordella slumped down on the bench by the firepit. Merisca had stoked a roaring blaze under the cooking pot, and the aroma of boiling turnips and carrots filled the room.
"We haven't got long. They'll be back soon." Merisca handed her a folded scrap of parchment. "Here's your portion. I've dried the bloodcap as best I could and ground it into a powder, so be careful when you open it. You'll need to take all of it for it to work."
Slave's Gamble Page 3