Queen's Ransom: The Golden Bulls of Minos

by Isabel Wroth

  Her smile turned a little mocking, amused as she folded her hands demurely in her lap.

  "I'll let you know when I am treated as your queen."

  Taken aback by her answer, amazed by her audacity, Dhega didn't immediately respond, given no time to gather his wits before Nivir brought the next suppliant to be heard.

  So focused on Jalia, he didn't even look at the kneeling figure until Jalia spoke.

  "Nivir, he's bleeding! What happened?"

  Dhega was forced to acknowledge the young male kneeling on the floor, as Jalia had leaped to her feet and rushed down to him.

  Her soft hands reached out to take the boy's face in her hands, gasping when she saw the bruises on his face and the evidence that his horns had been brutally cut from his skull.

  Nivir looked up at him for permission when Jalia ordered a healer be brought out,

  "Did I stutter, Nivir?" Jalia snapped, her voice carrying to every corner of the hall. Nivir ignored her until Dhega gave a flick of his fingers.

  He could hear Jalia's gentle murmur, but not what she said or what answer the boy gave. The palace healer appeared and knelt on the floor beside the boy, applying a fine white powder to the gruesome holes in his scalp matted with blood and hair.

  The boy wore threadbare trousers several sizes too big, tied around his lean hips with a length of coarse rope. His entire body was covered in bruises, old and new, abraded, his flesh burnt red from too much sun exposure. He looked malnourished, his lips dry and cracked from dehydration.

  "Jalia," Dhega called her back, sharper when she did not immediately obey. The look she gave him when she turned and stood was filled with fury and defiance.

  "Come here. Come. Here." He interrupted when she opened her mouth to no doubt argue.

  The pure white skirt of her gown was now saturated with blood, ruined from where she had pressed it to the worst of the boy's wounds.

  Dhega wanted to be angry that his gift had been so abused, but he found himself curious instead.

  Several of the people who had come to be heard today had suffered beatings, not so severe as this, but none of his other prospective queens had cared how or why it happened, let alone offered to soil themselves with the blood of common strangers.

  None of them had been offended or angry by the mistreatment, but Jalia looked ready to pick up a blade and take justice into her own hands.

  She climbed the stairs to stand where he pointed at the side of his chair.

  "His name is, Iscarion."

  Dhega nodded at her tightly clipped words, tearing his gaze away from her to motion a waiting attendant forward.

  She scurried up the stairs and offered Jalia a bowl of water and a cloth to wash the blood from her hands. Jalia snorted at him, refusing the water, her voice softening as she asked the attendant to let Iscarion drink first.

  "I'll wash with what's left," she said, and after the briefest glance his way, the attendant hurried down the steps to carefully cup handfuls of water for Iscarion to sip.

  When the boy nodded and rasped his thanks, the attendant returned to Jalia and held the bowl for her to wash.

  "Why was this done to you, Iscarion?" Dhega asked, wondering if the youth had the strength even to speak.

  Surprisingly, he did. His voice was thick with pain, but he answered loudly enough to be heard.

  "I am outcast, majesty. I live at the edge of Kaetonia, and the herd-sires sons destroyed my nets. I went to him, asked for lines to fix my nets and was accused of lying. Of stealing the nets.

  “Prince Milal set his sons on me, threw me into the Vanishing Labyrinth just before high tide. When I emerged, they beat me and tore my horns away. All I wanted was line...I just wanted to repair my nets."

  Dhega arched a brow, wondering if the boy was lying now. There was no way to survive the seaside maze at high tide. It filled with water, driving all the air from within the narrow passages.

  Dhega heard Jalia suck in an unsteady breath to speak, but she fell silent when he took her slender wrist in his hand and squeezed.

  "How did you survive the labyrinth?"

  Jalia leaned close and hissed at him, "How is that even relevant?" he shot her a quelling look and received a click of her tongue in reprimand.

  "I spend my days in the sea, my lord. I dive for the seagrass, deeper than any other can go. I have learned to hold my breath, to keep calm beneath the strong currents.

  “I found pockets of air to sustain me within the maze and continued forward until the water began to recede."

  Impressive. Dhega rubbed his thumb up and down the inside of Jalia's wrist, feeling the way her pulse surged and jumped beneath her petal soft skin.

  "What herd were you cast out from? Who are your people?"

  Iscarion made a sound of pain when the healer pressed a square of cloth to the deep wounds and began to bind his head to stop the bleeding.

  "I have no people, sire. My mother was abandoned by her family and had me alone; we lived by the sea outside the borders of Kaetonia my whole life. She died two seasons ago."

  Dhega didn't often involve himself in the politics of the herds unless it directly affected him, or if the princes were unable to keep order among their people.

  Dhega enforced the laws set down by the kings and queens before him, but beyond that, he did not interfere. He had too many subjects to look after on his own, which is why each herd had a sire. A prince to govern and care for them.

  "How old are you, Iscarion?" Jalia asked.

  Even from his seat above the boy, Dhega could hear him swallow thickly. "I am seventeen summers, my lady."

  "If you don't offer that kid someplace safe to stay, I will." Jalia jerked against his hold, growling softly when he didn't release her, her hair and eyes darkening to a sinister black.

  He had already decided to look into the matter, as taking a Minoan's horns after having survived one of the labyrinths was a punishment reserved for only the most heinous of crimes.

  The ultimate mark of shame. Iscarion had balls, coming here to accuse the Prince of Kaetonia of such brutality, strength for surviving the Vanishing, for surviving long enough with his grievous wounds to make it here.

  Long ago, Dhega had changed the law to ensure those guilty of crimes were not given a second chance at life, by repeating a run through a labyrinth they already knew how to solve.

  The Nine were not to be used at all, unless someone wished to become one of the Golden Bulls of Minos.

  "Zavir!" Jalia jumped in his hold, giving him a thankless look for having startled her.

  Zavir appeared beside his elder brother, the two so similar in coloring that if not for the difference in the shape of their horns, he and Nivir would have been indistinguishable.

  "My king,"

  "Carry Iscarion to the house of healing, see him treated for his injuries. When you have finished, take forty warriors to Kaetonia and secure Milal and his sons. I will deal with them when we arrive for the challenge."

  "With pleasure, your majesty," Zavir replied, careful when he helped Iscarion to his feet.

  Zavir moved to pick him up, but Icarion winced and proudly lifted his chin.

  "I can walk."

  The entire gallery was silent until Zavir, the healer, and Iscarion were gone. As soon as they disappeared, a low hum rose from thousands of voices speaking softly to one another.

  Dhega looked to where Jalia still stood, tall and trembling with anger. Her hand was so small in his, so soft.

  "Are you satisfied, Marchesa?"

  "I'll be satisfied after a few more horns are added to that chair of yours, your highness," she clipped out, twisting free of his hold to return to her smaller seat, her back ramrod straight as she sat and waited for the next complainant to be brought forward.

  Dhega pressed his lips together to stem his smile. Nivir caught his gaze and Dhega gave a nod, wondering briefly what it was to be now.

  The two women who came forward looked familiar though he didn't immediately pl
ace them. One was heavily pregnant, the other carried a bundle in her arms, both had haunted eyes, and expressions of fearful determination on their pale faces.

  "Renaya and Hyrmina, your majesty. Princesses of Bull Island." Nivir said, giving a bounce of his eyebrows with a rueful suggestion.

  Dhega stifled a grimace, faced with two of the three females that should have come to him three moons ago as prospective brides, had their father not betrayed him. Two of the three who were responsible in part for Jalia's presence at his side.

  "Nivir, will you please bring a chair for Princess Hyrmina?" Jalia asked kindly, ignorant of who it was she smiled so gently at.

  Hyrmina was comely enough, golden-haired, delicate features, dainty horns peeking out from her curls. She awkwardly lowered herself into the seat Nivir brought, quietly offering to hold her sister's child.

  Renaya declined, clutching her bundle closer, her pale blue eyes darting around fearfully, as though someone would tear the babe from her arms at any moment.

  Unlike her sister, Renaya was dark complected, taller, stouter, with a fair white brow and darker cheeks, thicker horns. She met his gaze bravely, brazenly almost, not nearly as weak as Jovan had described.

  "If you've come to ask me to spare your husbands, this was a wasted trip. They have already been judged and found guilty." Dhega informed Renaya, perversely pleased when she winced.

  Hyrmina gave a strangled, slightly hysterical bubble of laughter, clutching the skirt of her threadbare gown in shaking hands.

  He found himself wondering why both princesses were dressed in gowns so ill-fitting and torn they should have been destined for the fire. Bull Island was a wealthy province, their weavers renowned for spinning cloth most desired by females.

  "We have not come to ask you to spare them or us. We have come to ask that you spare our children." Renaya said clearly, her voice thick with unshed tears.

  Renaya, Hyrmina, their absent sister Adesia had obeyed their father and gone to Bull Island to marry the princes there, fully aware they were to meet Dhega to be selected as a potential queen.

  They married their princes in haste, so as not to suffer a fate they felt was worse than death, and yet here they were asking for his help.

  Dhega did not turn, but he could see Jalia looking at him from the corner of his eye with a confused frown of disapproval.

  Jalia affected him, made him question his decisions without speaking a word.

  He sat, rubbing his fingers back and forth over the arm of his throne, confident if Jalia had not been here, he would have waved his hand and dismissed the princesses, commanding them to suffer their fate. He was quiet for long enough she finally did speak,

  "I'm sitting in today, Princess. My name is Jalia. I was asked to listen to the people of Minos, to hear their needs and offer his majesty my thoughts.

  “I'm afraid I don't know anything about you or your sister, or why you're asking the king to spare you and your children. Would you please explain for my benefit?"

  Renaya glanced at him, swallowing thickly when he said nothing and began her tale. "Six moons ago, my sisters and I were ordered to come to Letau palace, to present ourselves before the king.

  “We were the last three females of royal blood, and it would have been a great honor to be chosen as you have been. To run the labyrinths. But our mother..."

  Renaya rolled her gaze upwards and shook her head, rocking from side to side with her child while she struggled to maintain her composure.

  "She convinced our sire that we three were too delicate. Too precious to risk death. She said without a queen at his side there would be instability, one of the other princes would challenge his majesty and finally, we would have a b-benevolent k-king."

  The princess was pale with fear, but Jalia encouraged her to continue, and his curiosity got the better of him, so Dhega remained mute.

  "In secret, my father went to our closest neighboring province, to Bull Island, and when he returned the princes came with him.

  “Nisos claimed my sister Adesia. Mantios asked for Hyrmina. I was given to Mecisistos. We were not asked for our consent and told to be silent and obey, but having known them all our lives, we believed the princes would be good to us.

  "The herd elder married us all at the same time. The quprian petals had barely fallen before we were taken to the wedding tents and c-claimed.

  “My sisters and I were given no respite, and before the suns had risen, we were on our way back to the island.

  “Two days later our princes were called to the palace. The day we were supposed to be presented before the king. When they returned..."

  Renaya shook her head and fell silent, and Hyrmina picked up the tale.

  "They were changed. Mantios told me it was my fault, mine, my sisters, my father's. He told us how my father and all my brothers had been sent to the Red Labyrinth as punishment for my father's decision to disobey.

  “Mantios said he had been tricked, that his life now hung in the balance and it was all my fault."

  Renaya touched her sister's shoulder, tears tracking down her cheeks. "It wasn't until Nisos murdered Adesia that we finally learned the truth about the sentence passed on us. When Hyrmina and I learned we too were with child, we fled the island with nothing and went to the Spotted Meadows to join the nomads rather than risk being killed."

  "Why would your husbands kill you?" Jalia asked, clearly disturbed.

  Hyrmina shot him an accusatory glare, turning white and lowering her eyes when he arched a brow at her. Renaya was not so meek. "As punishment for their collusion, his majesty justly decreed Nisos, Mantios, and Mecisistos would be put to death upon the birth of their first child.

  “I make no excuses for my sire or my husband, they understood the consequences of the risk they took, and what they and my father did was wrong. But my little brothers, the child Adasia would have had, they were innocent. My son, Hyrmina's child, they are innocent."

  Dhega remained silent, pondering his choice of punishment, wondering if he would have chosen to do anything different.

  He felt no guilt, no shame for what he'd done, but the look of condemnation Jalia turned on him suggested he should have.

  "Did you consider how the princes would react to your...decree?" she asked softly.

  "Of course."

  *****

  On the ship that had carried her to Minos, Croft had come back and forth with rumors he'd heard of what a brutal bastard the king was.

  Jalia had prepared herself accordingly, getting in a headspace to deal with a bloodthirsty tyrant. The first time she had seen Dhega, heard him speak, studied his body language and mannerisms, she had thought the rumors were exaggerated.

  Sure, Dhega seemed like a monarch who ruled with an iron fist. Who took shit from precisely no one and had few farks to give.

  In the short time she had known him, she would never have guessed him to be so cruel as to knowingly give a death sentence to men who would kill their wives and children to avoid it.

  Jalia had learned to read people, to listen to the things they didn't say to stay alive.

  She made her living by sitting across from humans and aliens alike, creatures of all shapes and sizes, able to tell when they were lying or bluffing.

  Was Dhega just that good at disguising his nature? Or was she compromised, allowing herself to see what she wanted to see, because she had a heavy case of lust for the gorgeous bull?

  Jalia listened to Princess Renaya and Hyrmina tell their story and wasn't sure.

  He didn't lie when she asked if he had passed judgment on the Bull Island princes, aware that the cowardly bastards would rather murder their unborn children, their wives, to go on living.

  Dhega's expression was impassive, as though he was bored with hearing Renaya's story. Disinterested in protecting her or her child.

  Uncaring that she and her sisters had not been given a choice as to whether they wanted to be married to traitors.

  Minos was a foreign world wi
th rules and traditions she didn't yet understand, but the murder and abuse of children...that was something Jalia would have no part in.

  Until Jalia had asked him if he'd known, Dhega hadn't said a word.

  Jalia sat up on the dais and had been asked to demonstrate how she would serve the people of Minos were she to become queen.

  While she was pretty sure she had decided she would never be the wife of someone who was so callous and cruel as to order the death of babies, Jalia was going to do what she'd been asked.

  She got up and walked down the steps to Renaya, hoping her smile was enough to assure the princess she meant no harm.

  Renaya wore clothes too small for her stout frame, too tight across her ample breasts, tattered, torn, dirty. But the blanket her baby was wrapped in was sparkling clean, and the sweet face nestled against his mother's breast was free of grime.

  He was so tiny, with wispy brown hair just starting to curl, with little bumps above his ears where one day his horns would grow.

  Renaya was stiff as stone when Jalia reached out to trace a fingertip down the soft, chubby cheek, unable to help her smile when the baby cooed and sleepily opened his sky-blue eyes.

  "I've never seen a baby in person before. What's his name?"

  "Kypris," Renaya stuttered fearfully.

  Jalia kept her voice quiet, not wanting to frighten the sisters, and not wanting Dhega or his guard to hear what she said.

  "If the king refuses to grant you asylum, I have a ship waiting. My men will take you to it, and you'll be safe.

  “If I fail the challenge of the labyrinths or die, they will take you somewhere, another world where you can raise your son in peace."

  Renaya's lips trembled as she looked down at her son, her tears falling on his blanket.

  "B-but this is our home."

  "Yes, it is. You don't know me, Renaya, but I want to help you. May I take Kypris for a minute?" Renaya's eyes rolled white with panic, the baby giving a little squawk when she clutched him too tightly.

  Jalia squeezed her shoulder, hoping what she was about to do would work.

  "I only want to help. Please, let me try."

  A tortured little sound left the princess, but a glance at her silently crying sister, Renaya nodded.