Our Lady of the Islands (30 page)

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Authors: Shannon Page,Jay Lake

BOOK: Our Lady of the Islands
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“My lord, why are we being kept here?” Reikos tried in desperation.

The Census Taker looked back in apparent surprise. “What? Has no one told you?”

“No, my lord. How … long are we to stay?”

“Well,” the Census Taker sighed, “I’d love nothing better than to stay and answer all these questions, but I have too many bigger messes to clean up at present. I will let Sergeant Ennias explain it to you.”

Then he was gone, leaving Ennias and Sarit to stare after him and his guards, then up at the ceiling as the sounds of their departure grew fainter. Ennias rubbed his chafed wrists.

When it seemed clear that they were well outside of hearing, Sarit lowered his eyes to gaze balefully at Sergeant Ennias. “I’m truly sorry, sir. Seen a lot of sad things down here, but I never half imagined seeing this. Not in my darkest dreams.”

“Thank you, Sarit,” said the sergeant without any sign of emotion. “I’d been meaning to discuss this with you, and hope it won’t seem too self-indulgent now, but … if there’s any way to get the three of us something of a bit more substance by way of provisions — from time to time, even — I would be deeply obliged.”

“Well now,” Reikos said, “that’s rich.” He turned to glare at Ennias. “Your concern for our well-being does take on a whole new urgency, doesn’t it?” He was sorely tempted to haul off and punch the man, but Ennias still looked a formidable fighter and had at least of foot of height on him, while Reikos’s own strength was paper-thin after all this time without food or light.

“Did he not bring you extra food just yesterday?” the jailer asked.

“No need to defend me, Sarit,” Ennias said gently. “I thank you, but if Alkattha should return for some reason, you ought not to be found down here with me, eh?”

The man grimaced, but nodded at the sense of this and headed up the stairs as well.

When he was gone, Ennias looked back to Reikos. “I arrested you two for attacking me and my men while I was doing nothing but what I
thought
was a good thing for your friend, Domina Kattë. I’ve already told you that I have no beef with either of you personally, nor feel anything but worse and worse about where all this has landed you since then.”

“Or where it’s landed
you
, huh?” Pino said, his lip curled in disgust. “So, who did you rush to get thrown in here?”

“I’m in here for the same reason you two are.” Ennias sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his thick, dark hair. “Trying to protect a woman. Several of them, actually.”

“What women?” Reikos asked in alarm. “Is Domina Kattë in danger now?”

Ennias raised his eyes toward the rough rock ceiling, betraying the first real signs of distress — or any other emotion — Reikos had ever seen in him show. “Somewhere up there, right now, Domina Kattë, a Factorate maid, and the Factora-Consort herself are waiting for me to help get them safely out of this building.” He dropped his gaze and gripped his head into his hands. “And there’s not a godsdamned thing that I can do to let them know we’re all in trouble.”

Reikos’s eyes were now as wide as Pino’s. “The Factora-Consort is
here
? With Domina Kattë? Does she not outrank the Census Taker? Can she not just order him to —”

“Alkattha doesn’t know that’s who she is,” Ennias cut in. “She’s pretending to be Domina Kattë’s maid.”

“The
Factora-Consort?
” Pino blurted in disbelief.

“Sian’s maid?” Reikos shook his head, wondering if maybe this confinement had already driven him mad. Could he be asleep? Was this just a dream? “How … Why on earth would —”

“It’s complicated!” Ennias barked, losing his infuriating cool at last.

“No, it is
insane!
” Reikos protested. “What in hell is going on up there?”

“I wish to all the gods I knew,” sighed Ennias, his frustration seeming to evaporate as quickly as it had boiled up. He gazed around, looking for somewhere to sit, it appeared, only now seeming to realize that there were just two pallets for the three of them. He went to sit on Reikos’s, though the captain hardly cared at that moment. “The Census Taker is apparently involved in some kind of plot to overthrow the Factor and his government,” Ennias explained, as dispassionate as ever once again. “Domina Kattë is involved now, because of her ability to heal the Factor’s son. Because there’s no one they can trust, the Factora-Consort and her maid are here themselves, trying to sneak Domina Kattë away without giving the Census Taker any reason to suspect she’s gone — although I’m pretty sure that plan is broken past repair now.” He shook his head and sighed. “They fear that if Lord Alkattha knows they’ve discovered his involvement, this conspiracy might just launch an all-out civil war.”

Reikos and Pino were both gaping at him now.

“Civil war?” gasped Pino. “There is going to be a
war
? Over
Domina Kattë
?”

“Not over Domina Kattë, son.” The sergeant bowed his head again, looking very tired. “She’s not the cause of this. She’s just stuck in the middle of it — along with all the rest of us.”

“Is the Census Taker not your Factor’s cousin, though?” asked Reikos, wondering if his understanding of Alizari politics was even more muddled than he’d thought. “Why would he wish to wage war against his own family?”

“The Factor’s government has been teetering for some time now, and the Alkattha family’s prospects with it. The Census Taker may just have decided to flee his family’s burning ship before it goes down anyway — as any rat will do.”

Reikos began to pace around their cage, rubbing at his stubbled beard, and trying to absorb these mind-numbing revelations. His Sian was at the mercy of her clearly deadly cousin, at the center of an unimaginable catastrophe. How had the whole world come to such an edge in just the few short weeks since he had docked his ship here in such placid-seeming waters? His
ship!
It was anchored in what might soon be a war zone! His ship and Sian … They were all he had. And there was nothing he could do for either of them. “Is there no way to get us out of here, Sergeant?” Reikos pled. “The jailer, he is clearly liking you quite well, it seems. Can you not explain to him what is at stake here — just as you have done with us? Surely, he would see … There might still be something we could do if we were not stuck here.”

“I have thought about it, Captain, I assure you. But though these women are in danger now, Lord Alkattha does not seem to have recognized the Factora-Consort or her maid yet. I don’t know whether they would be in more danger or less if he found out. If I tell Sarit what I’ve just told you …” Ennias raised his hands and shrugged. “He’s clearly very sorry for me, but you’ll notice he hasn’t offered to let me go. He’s as afraid of Lord Alkattha as everyone else here is — with good reason, obviously. I have little doubt he’ll find some way to feed us better now. Whether he would do more if he knew the rest, or just run fearfully to his master and make everything worse for the Factora-Consort and Domina Kattë, I have no way of knowing.”

“He’ll hurt her, if he figures it out,” said Pino, as much to himself as to anyone else. “And there’s nothing I can do now. Nothing …”

Reikos didn’t need to ask which ‘her’ the boy meant. It wounded him to watch Pino still clinging to this hopeless love of his. There seemed nothing left in all the world that didn’t hurt to look at now.

Arian led the healer from the Census Hall’s forecourt out into the darkened drive, glancing up and down, but there was still no runner-cart in sight. “Well, something has gone amiss. But we are out, at least, and the harbor is not so far away. Our boat to Home should be waiting there. We can just walk.”

Sian nodded, limping after her.

“You can stop pretending now,” Arian said after a minute. “We’re no longer visible from the house.”

“It’s these sandals,” said Sian. “They’re too tight.”

Arian looked down at Sian’s feet, frowning. “Why did you not say so?”

“I didn’t think we’d be walking.” Sian gave her a reassuring smile, trying to walk more naturally, though it was obvious the sandals pained her pretty badly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Perhaps we’ll find a runner-cart along the way,” Arian said hopefully, though they would have to walk beyond the Census Hall’s jungle-covered grounds before reaching populated streets. There would be very few people out at such an hour, though she heard the faint echoes of a prayer-line in the distance.

Despite the minor setback of their absent cart, Arian felt more exhilaration with every step they took away from the Census Hall. They had done it! Sian was out of Escotte Alkattha’s clutches! Konrad would be healed at last. Arian blinked back tears, recalling Sergeant Ennias’s tale. “Does it truly happen all at once?” she asked Sian. “This healing you do?”

Sian glanced up at her, surprised, perhaps, at the change of subject. “Very nearly.”

“It must feel strange to wield such power.”

“To be honest, it feels … quite uncomfortable. If it’s a wounded arm, my own arm aches. If it’s colic, my stomach hurts along with the child’s.”

“So you
can
cure illness then — not just injury? I mean … you have no doubt, do you, that you will be able to heal Konrad?”

“My lady, you have risked so much to come for me, and were not sure of this?”

Arian fell silent a moment. “I didn’t have much choice, really. Sergeant Ennias was most convincing, but the truth is, I have exhausted every other option.” She gave Sian a pointed look. “And, I’m still
Freda
, please, till we’re safely at the Factorate.”

“Of course. I am sorry.” Sian smiled at her sheepishly. “I feel quite certain I am meant to heal your son. Perhaps I’ll find some peace again when this is done.”

“What do you mean?”

Sian stumbled over a loose cobblestone; Arian reached back to steady her. “When this power was first … given to me,” Sian said, “I wanted only to be rid of it. Now, I’ve come to understand that there are forces much, much larger than myself at work here, though I still don’t know why
this
, why
me
.” Sian looked at Arian and shrugged. “I’m a mother too. That alone is reason for me to come with you — whatever other reasons the gods may have.”

“Is this power truly given you by some god then?” Arian asked. Was it this ‘Butchered God’ after all? Was Sian able to communicate with it somehow? Sian looked at her strangely, clearly uncomfortable with the question. “You needn’t answer,” Arian added hastily, having no desire to alienate this woman on whom so much depended now. “I have no wish to pry. It’s just … I really did not think there were gods in Alizar … Until I heard of you.”
Do they resent me for such disbelief?
she wondered.
I’m truly sorry if I’ve seemed disrespectful
, she silently assured whichever of them might be listening to her now — or walking right beside her even, within the body of its avatar.
You have simply been so quiet. For so long.
Arian smiled at Sian, and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “I thank you, cousin, for all this must have cost you.”

“I do wonder, sometimes, if the power will leave me after I have healed him.” The healer sounded pensive. “Or if this will always be my life now.”

By the time they emerged from the Census Taker’s wild estate and returned to streets lined in shuttered shopfronts and dark houses, Sian’s limping had grown noticeably worse. Arian wondered why she hadn’t just healed herself of this small pain. She was trying to decide whether it would be rude to ask her this when three black-robed priests stepped into their path from an alley just ahead of them.

“Halt!” the foremost of them commanded.

Fright coursed like lightning through Arian’s entire body, freezing her in place. Sian yanked at her from behind, trying to pull her into flight, but the priests were too fast. The leader reached out and grabbed Arian’s arm, pulling it so hard she feared it might be injured, while the two behind him dashed past her to catch Sian as she turned to flee. Arian began to struggle now, unable to believe that this was happening — after all they had come through — but her captor just clamped down even harder on her wrist, wrenching her off balance with a single hand.

“Let us go!” Arian yelled, pulling against his grip. “What right have you to —”

With his other hand, the priest cuffed her sharply across the face, knocking her to the cobblestones. Arian reeled with shock; never, in all her life had she imagined … had anybody dared … It took a moment for the pain even to register.

“Stop it!” Sian yelled, thrashing in the arms of her own captors. “
Don’t hurt her!
” She kicked her sandals off and twisted around, jabbing her bare foot at the shin of one of the priests. He howled, and must have loosened his grip on her arm, for she spun and thrust the heel of her hand against his chin with a wordless cry.

The priest opened his mouth in silent astonishment, and fell to the ground, gasping and clutching at his chest for some reason.

Sian’s remaining captor threw her face-down on the ground with terrible force, crushing one of her hands against the gravel with his booted foot, while falling atop her back and trying to pin her other hand beneath his knee. “Father Lod, it’s her!” he shouted. “I think she’s killed Poden!”

Ridiculous
, Arian thought in half-abstracted rage.
Anyone can see he’s moving still.

The sound of running steps drew nearer. Arian turned her head to see an older priest coming toward them from somewhere nearby —
Father Lod?
— flanked by two younger, stronger priests — initiates, perhaps.
Do they always come in threes?
Arian wondered, struggling to regain possession of herself through her still-rebounding shock, and dawning despair.

“He’s not dead!” Sian yelled. “I have killed no one!”

“Bind her hands, fool!” snarled the older priest. “Don’t let them touch your flesh!”

Donning gloves as they ran, the two young priests with Lod raced to grab Sian’s arms while the first man kept her pinned in place, then deftly tied her hands behind her back with rope.

“Don’t let this one get away either,” Lod said, casting a sidelong glance at Arian as he strode by. “She may be useful.”

Arian’s attacker yanked her to her feet, holding her tightly by both wrists now.

The priests tying Sian brought out more rope to truss her with, eyeing her warily, clearly aware of the power her hands could wield.

“Sian Kattë, at last,” Lod spat, glaring down at her. He nodded toward Arian. “Is she another fraud like you? Some disciple of yours perhaps?”

“No!” Sian cried. “Leave her alone, she’s done nothing! She is no one.”

Lod gave Sian an ugly smile. “I think not.” He turned to the priests. “Bind her as well. Better safe than sorry, as we’ve learned to our great cost.”

“Let her go!” Sian screamed. “Take me — just let her go!”

Do they know me too?
Arian wondered fearfully.
Is Duon to have his revenge here on this darkened street, un-witnessed?
They had shown no sign they knew her, so far. Their attention seemed focused on Sian Kattë. “My lady,” Arian choked out in the deferential tones of a terrified maid. “Oh, please, my lady …”
Please don’t lose your head and give me away now, healer,
she thought, as the priests tied her own hands behind her back.

“Be strong, Freda,” Sian said, still glaring at Lod.

Thank all the gods. Again,
Arian thought. Sian understood. But how had they been found like this? Had someone betrayed them, or had they just been impossibly unlucky? Did the gods of Alizar hate her after all for her disbelief? Where
had
their runner-cart gone? When, exactly, had all this fallen so terribly apart?

“Well, well.
Domina Kattë
,” Lod growled when they had both been bound, “what a lot of trouble and embarrassment you have caused our order.” Arian could see him struggling to retrieve an air of icy calm. “And for what? Did you think you could elude us forever?”

“When my cousin, the Census Taker, hears of this —” Sian started, but Lod cut her off.

“Your
dear cousin
is the one who warned us, just this afternoon, that you might be found nearby his hall this evening,” Lod answered with clear satisfaction. “It seems your distinguished family has cut you loose. And who could blame them, really?”

Maronne!
Arian thought, biting her lip to keep from crying out. She’d left her dearest friend locked in the serpent’s lair, with no way out now.
Oh, Viktor, what have I done?
Her husband and Hivat had warned her, but she had refused to listen. Yet should she not have tried to save her son?
Oh, Maronne. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry

“But don’t think that’s going to make me over-confident again,” Lod continued, all his satisfaction seeming vanished now. “I know the threat of pain or injury means nothing to you. Not even starvation was intimidating, was it? But I’ve a hunch that you have other weaknesses.” He lurched over to grab Arian’s hair, yanking her head around by it.

Arian yelped, more in surprise than pain, stumbling in a tenuous attempt to stay upright. Only Lod’s fist in her hair kept her from falling.

“Stop it, stop it!” shouted Sian. “I’ll go with you, just don’t hurt her!”

“That’s what I thought.” Lod smiled unpleasantly. “And what I mean to make quite sure of, this time.” He let go of Arian’s hair and elbowed her hard, in the ribs. She buckled and fell to the ground with an
oof
, unable to use her bound hands to catch herself. Her face had hardly hit the stones before Lod kicked her in the side. Arian heard a rib snap just before the pain hit. She screamed; Lod stepped away, beckoning to his young companions. “Nothing fatal, please.”

The first priest leaned down to punch her in the face, slamming her head back onto the cobblestones. Arian felt blood begin to fill her nose and mouth, choking her screams as a second priest joined in, paying particular attention to her broken rib. Soon it had siblings. She heard Sian screaming too now, but only faintly as all sensation grew remote, and Arian … fell away. Inside.

She found herself detached somehow, watching the whole scene from high above. On a nearby rooftop, maybe? Oh look, those priests are beating some poor woman in the street. How terrible. Why is no one helping? … all that screaming …

She was still in her body too — remotely. It wasn’t really hers, though. Not anymore. Her face felt made of bone, unfeeling even as she felt it pummeled mercilessly. Her hands were tied; her legs did not obey her, though she still struggled with some vague notion of defending herself, or of fleeing. Ultimately, though, there was nothing she could do, except bear the blows.

And then they stopped. Arian came back to herself sobbing in a ball on the ground. Pain filled her, everywhere; every breath a stab wound in her sides. Blood flowed into the mud.

Sian still screamed, somewhere nearby. “
Stop! Stop!
” She had been screaming the whole time. How could such things happen on a public street, and no one come to save them, or even to investigate? Was Alizar that broken? …
Yes
, she thought.
Clearly
. As broken as herself. It must have been for some time now. How had she failed to notice sooner …?

As Arian lay gasping for each painful breath, struggling for coherent thought, a righteous anger began boiling up inside her to displace the stunned disbelief, wrapping around the pain like a fiery lover.
These gods-damned priests

who feel entitled to beat me on the street; to kill my son!
If they let her live; if they made that mistake; she would see their temple burned to the ground, every last offertory hall and stained-glass window and shred of altar cloth … If she could but live!

“All right, then,” she heard a disembodied voice say somewhere above her. A voice she intended to remember — and to silence utterly. Someday. Somehow. “Heal her, if you wish to.”

Arian recoiled at the touch of someone’s hands on her broken body, though they seemed soft and gentle now. She could not abide the thought of being touched again. By anyone.

“It’s all right, it’s all right,” Sian crooned, even as she gathered Arian up closer.

Arian gasped, flooded with sensations for which she had no language. She cried out as her cracked bones began to throb and shift. Her cries were echoed by Sian, who gripped her tighter now. Convulsively. It wasn’t pain, exactly. Nothing like the pain she had just known, at least, but neither was it pleasure. It was … disintegration. Disassembly. Both stretching and compression; an earthquake through her body, and the tearing of a cloud. And then, as suddenly, it became euphoric! Disorienting ecstasy! A wave of pure, erotic pleasure rolled through her body as the healer’s touch brought first upheaval, then relief to all her wounds at once. Arian wanted to weep and laugh and scream. She buried her face in the other woman’s lush silks, wishing she could put her arms around her … kiss her, reach past the clothes to run her hands across Sian’s skin … Then this vast erotic urge winked out as suddenly, and Arian fell back, resting on the ground as Sian collapsed beside her.

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