Bayou Bishops Box Set: Books 1-12

CHAPTER 5

“When will you tell her?” Samuel asked.

Bishop paced on the porch, shaking his head. “I can’t tell her while I have jack shit for answers to anything.”

“When will he know more?”

“He thinks soon. Which means could be tomorrow could be next week. Or month. All on top of everything going on.”

“Did Maggie know her father?”

“She did at one time. But I have no clue how close she was to him so we have two possible devastations looming.”

His phone buzzed and he looked. “Mah-Mah,” he muttered, reading the text.

Spoke to the Grand Oratrice. They said a Fate Roll is required regarding the Gauntlet and we’ll do it at the same time we hold hearings for those at the weigh station. Tomorrow morning at 9:00 am sharp.

He shoved the phone in his pocket before he threw it at the wall.

“Bad news?”

Bishop eyed him. “I feel like I’m at the head of a parade of wicked storms, Seer. And this is the first of many.”

“What’s going on?”

“The Fate Roll will happen in regard to the right hand rules and The Gauntlet. After the Auditors hear those waiting at the weigh station. Tomorrow morning at 9:00.”

Seer gave a sound of surprise, but Bishop wasn’t sure about what. Had he really expected anything different?

“Forgot they were over there still.”

Bishop stalked the wood planks, eyeing him. “Is that what you’re piffed over?”

“Not piffed at all,” he said. “Nothing to be piffed about.”

“Easy for you to say, Seer.”

“I have the same stakes in this as you now, brother. You think I want Cherie to have right hand voting powers while knowing she’ll try and leverage it for all the wrong reasons?”

Bishop considered that, shaking his head. Wouldn’t that be something. “Seems like everybody has leverage but us.”

“Our leverage is in the Fate Roll.”

“Oh, Jesus, Samuel,” Bishop muttered dryly, facing the bayou again.

“It is,” he assured. “You get three requests I believe in these types of matters?”

“Mah-Mah does too.”

He nodded. “So, what will your requests be?”

“I’d like to cancel the right-hand bullshit altogether,” he said.

“At least in times of war,” Seer agreed. “So that’s one. What’s your second if the Fate Roll denies you?”

Bishop considered that, searching the mist hanging over the water for answers.

“Maybe no voting rights during wartime?”

Bishop turned to him, nodding. “That’s a good one. And if Fate says no to that?” He eyed Seer, praying he had the miracle answer.

“They can always fail the Gauntlet too,” Seer reminded him.

“And get to retake it,” Bishop reminded him back.

“There’s your number three.”

Bishop realized that was definitely their number three. “So worst case scenario they are allowed to do the Gauntlet Trials and retake the test if they fail.”

“Don’t forget the Gauntlet dice,” Seer said.

“I haven’t.”

“Will they all be competing together?”

Bishops pulse thundered as he turned over scenarios while wondering that. “The tests are usually determined by the Gauntlet Master.”

“There’s also Mah-Mah’s three requests.”

“Oh, I well know.”

“I think we need to consider a worst-case scenario plan of action.”

Bishop regarded him with hands on his hips. “Elaborate.”

Seer pushed up the front of his hat and faced the bayou now. “Whatever it is we fear them doing with right hand privileges needs to be eliminated prior to.”

He eyed him, connecting the dots. “Get Cherie’s son before she does something stupid is the first thing I’m seeing with that.”

“Yep,” Seer muttered, sucking his teeth while openly calculating.

Bishop considered his own crisis then realized there wasn’t any obvious threat he could eliminate with his Petite. “As Fate would have it, all my potential dangers lie in wait around the corner. Neatly hidden out of my sight and control. I don’t want her anywhere near the battlefield, yet the swamp, our home, is the fucking battlefield. So, there’s that predicament.”

Seer turned to him and clamped a hand on his shoulder. “You need to remember what I told you about everything working out. The fears are already singing in your ear and you’re dancing to its tune. You need to stop. You need to take control of it and put it under your foot. You’re the leader of The Twelve and you’ve got what it takes to do any fucking thing you want. There are no devils too big, there are no mysteries too deep, and there are no darkness too dark. God’s got this. You understand?”

He let the power in the Seer’s words and conviction have him. He lowered his head, accepting his conviction with a nod before eyeing him for many seconds. “Thanks for being in my corner, brother.”

“Every step of the way.”

His conviction was sharp as stone, and it cut Bishop deep. But that’s what he needed. Something to cut through the darkness building inside him and tether him to the light.

“Maybe the women should come to the trial,” Seer said.

Bishop considered the edge in his tone, wondering what he was thinking.

Seer locked gazes with him. “The judgment dice will have to be rolled. They may get a needed glimpse of the dirty side of our business.”

“Fucking brilliant,” Bishop said in utter relief at that idea. “Maybe we’ll get to judge that one fuck.”

“Maybe even harshly,” Seer added with a gleam in his eye.

Bishop recited the first line in The Twelve’s Judgment Creed. “Vengeance is the Lord’s and the Dice are his Judgment.”

“And we are its ministering servants,” Seer added.

“Of both hellfire and mercy,” Bishop and the Seer finished together, followed by “Amen.”

****

Beth’s stomach was wrecked. Bishop returned after midnight and practically snuck in bed. He was still angry with her. And why? Exactly? He thought she had something to do with what Mah-Mah did at the meeting. She kind of did but she didn’t know what Mah-Mah had planned. And what was so bad about the Fate Roll? That seemed perfectly sensible. And fair to all. Just what on earth was he so damn worried about? And how long was he going to treat her like an enemy?

To have him get in their bed and not bother to even touch her was the most painful thing she’d ever endured. Shockingly painful. And now they were driving to the Weigh Station for some unknown reason she apparently didn’t need to know. Her only consolation was the other ladies were going to be there too. She couldn’t wait to find out what the hell was going on because she’d decided she wasn’t asking Bishop. The pain of how he’d treated her the night before had already turned into anger. And that was pure coping mechanism to keep from breaking down in front of the wrong people.

Pain gouged her chest every time she remembered the man who was usually loving and sensitive, now treating her like a stranger and a villain.

“I need to tell you why we’re going to the Weigh Station,” Bishop said when the boat came to stop next to a grassy bank.

“Do you really?” she asked, her voice wavering with anger.

He held his hand out for her and she ignored it, hopping out of the boat. He stared at the ground a few seconds before securing a rope to a little post then stood with his hands on his hips and head lowered. “There is one thing I cannot handle Beth, and it’s you lying to me. You called my mother and lied to me about why. I can tell you now that if you ever lie to me again, it will destroy things between us that are very difficult to repair.”

Beth suddenly couldn’t breathe as she held her stomach. She’d not even considered him angry over that. She’d been sure it was because of what Mah-Mah had done and he thought she was part of it. She’d been waiting for him to ask that, and he hadn’t. “I had no idea she was going to do that with the Fate Dice thing.”

“I know you didn’t call her about baby making concerns, Beth.”

“No, I didn’t. I called her because of how you’re behaving. You’re being…overly protective and paranoid.”

“And that’s a crime?”

She looked at him. “Are you telling me you don’t keep things from me?”

He held her gaze firmly. “Keeping things from you and lying to you are two different things, Beth.”

“This isn’t some…terrible lie. I just didn’t want to upset you or fight with you about something you can’t even think straight about.”

“What exactly can’t I think straight about?”

His tone pushed and pulled at her guts. “I get that you’re scared and want to protect me and I’m…happy that you do. But I’m not your enemy, I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with me doing. I’ve told you so many times that if you don’t want me being your right hand then say so.”

“And I’ve told you so many times that I’m not allowed to influence that decision.”

“Well, if this isn’t influencing, I don’t know what is!”

“I can’t help how I feel, Beth,” he half yelled at her. “We’re going to war with people who want to kill me and everything I care about. Why is this hard for you to understand?”

She wiped her tears and turned her back to him. “I just… want you to trust me,” she strained.

“This isn’t about trust, Beth. It’s about war and the brutal realities that come with it. It’s about you being you and me protecting you from other people using that against us.”

“Fine, then…I won’t be the right hand, I don’t want it. I get to decide and that is my decision.” His arms came around her and he pressed his mouth to her ear, bringing her sob. “I just want to love you, that’s all.”

His hold tightened and he kissed the side of her face repeatedly. “Ma Petite,” he whispered hotly. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m…utterly terrified to lose you, do you hear me? And this war that’s coming, it’s bringing dark clouds in my soul that I cannot shake.”

“I’m giving it up, I give up the right-hand thing, I don’t want it.” She turned in his arms and hugged him tight. “I don’t want it, I just want to be your wife.”

He put his forehead against hers, his breaths heaving with the barest shake of his head.

She took his face and kissed him, and he grabbed her hands and lowered them, his gaze dark and haunted on her. “It’s too late, Ma Petite. Once Mah-Mah set it into motion, the Auditors had to rule. And they have ruled that the Fate Dice will be used to determine everything. The decisions are no longer ours.”

Beth’s pulse pummeled her eardrums till she couldn’t hear anything else. Her mouth moved as she grasped what he’d said. “I…I didn’t mean for this Sahvrin, you have to believe me.”

He kissed her softly. “I believe you Ma Petite. I don’t doubt that.”

She realized all hope wasn’t lost. “The Fate Dice, they can…they can still roll in our favor. Or even if I have to be right hand, I don’t have to do anything, right?”

“If you are right hand, you must act as right hand.”

She shook her head. “I mean…we can still come out alright, the dice can be in your favor? Right?”

He kissed her softly again. “Yes, Ma Petite.”

She pushed back, searching his face. “Why do you sound defeated then?”

He raked a hand through his hair and glanced at the bayou. “Old Fate Dice habits die hard. It’s not my first round with those Dice.”

“It can be different. It will be. You’ll see,” she said softly. “You have to have faith.”

“You sound like Seer now.”

“Well, it’s true. We’ll both have faith that the Fate Dice will roll in our favor.”

He was back to staring at the bayou. “Alright Ma Petite. I’ll have faith.” He nodded. “There’s Spook and Maggie.”

Beth hurried to the spot where he parked their little boat and embraced her sister before looking her over. She held up her hand with a huge grin, showing off an ivory-looking ring. “I’m married! We killed an alligator and dismembered him and used his body parts for our wedding jewelry!”

Beth could only stand there with mouth hanging open as Spook came up with his own grin in place, shaking Sahvrin’s hand.

“Killed an alligator huh?” Sahvrin muttered, laughing before giving him a big hug. “Congratulations, showoff.”

Beth broke out in squeals of joy, and they hugged again, jumping up and down in a tight embrace. Her sister was married and so very happy. Surely this was a good sign. A very good sign.

****

Cherie fought with her nerves while clutching Tully’s hand tightly. They all gathered in a huge treehouse where two half circle tables sat, one seating twelve women in white robes with white owls masks and the other seating The Twelve and the four wives. There was also a single table and chair between the two large tables and Cherie guessed that’s where the guilty party would sit. She knew very little about why they were there, other than to witness one of the job’s they’d soon be a part of as right hands. There for a hot minute, she thought the twelve women might not allow it, but eventually they were led to the table that belonged to The Twelve where extra chairs were given for them to sit and observe.

Her stomach lurched at the idea she was married. To Samuel. The Twelve’s Seer. She felt the need to crawl and hide behind her own skin, feeling out of place and hella-unworthy. Then she eyed him. Again. Her heart went into immediate palpitation as her body recalled the many times and ways he’d married her and she him. Mercy, what a hot orgy that was.

The center woman in white stood at the table. “The Auditors are ready to hear the first Sinner’s case.”

She sat again as a man she didn’t recognize brought out a hefty giant of a dude and sat him at the small table.

The same woman spoke again. “Who is the Parleur for this Sinner?”

“I am,” Bishop said, walking up to stand next to the man.

“Proceed,” the woman said.

Cherie listened as Bishop gave the Sinner’s name and told his crimes that landed him at the Weigh Station. She sucked in a breath at hearing he was with the Roulettes, knowing how no good that crew was. But when he mentioned their ultimate plan to take Beth and finish what they’d started, she nearly fell out her chair. She grabbed Beth’s hand on her left and held it tight as whispered mumbles broke out.

“Does the Sinner wish to cleanse his soul?”

The man sat there, looking at Bishop then at the women. “Yes ma’ams I most certainly do wish to cleanse my soul. Whatever it is the good Lord has, I’m willing to pay. Torture, or death, it don’t matter, but I would like to ask that the…” The man looked up at Bishop.

“Grand Oratrice,” Bishop muttered.

“Uh, the Most Grand Oratrice allow me to do penance first before I meet my maker. I would like to right as many wrongs as I can. But if that’s not in the cards for me, then I’ll accept whatever my fate is.”

“Let the Seer come forth and see our Sinner.”

Cherie watched Samuel stroll in his easy, sexy stride to the man. He placed his hand on his head and muttered something for many seconds before turning to the women. “I have had confessional with the Sinner, and he spoke the truth. I see that the same truth remains within him today.”

The twelve women all stood and gathered together with their back’s to them, mumbling in French for a full minute before returning to the table. “The Sinner will pay restitution. He will be bound to the Swamp in servitude to its women and children. He may not leave until his servitude is complete. The Judgment Dice will be rolled to determine the length of his sentence.”

Samuel opened his coat and set a black pouch on the table. “Roll the Judgment Dice, son.”

The man opened the pouch and Cherie strained to see what they were. “I just roll it on the table?”

“That’s it,” Samuel muttered.

He shook the dice in his only free hand and let them go. Sounded like more than two dice to Cherie.

“The roll is Vie,” Samuel said, getting a round of chuckles and dramatic expressions.

The middle woman stood. “The Sinner’s judgment is servitude to the women and children of the Swamp and his sentence is until death.”

The man leapt up and hugged Samuel who stood there like a post. “Thank you most Grand Orafice!”

“Oratrice, dumbass,” Bishop corrected.

The women seemed to find it funny and all chuckled before the woman said, “The Sinner will report to the Nu-Nu who will place him with one of The Twelve. He will be required to endure The Sinners Trial before his servitude begins. This case is closed.” She struck a gavel on the table. “Bring in the next Sinner.”

****

Bishop hauled in the man who stole his daughter, ready for some blood in his justice after the fat fucker got life servitude. His only consolation was the Sinners Trial he had to pass. Didn’t matter which of The Twelve he was given to, he’d get his ass kicked right into sainthood.

“Who is the Parleur for this Sinner?” the Grand Oratrice asked.

“I am,” Bishop said before giving a detailed recount of the man’s sins. When he was done the Auditors stood with their back’s to them and convened. He heard all the terms he wanted to hear being circulated. Kidnapping a minor. Turned over to people who may have killed her. This was attempted murder in Bishops eyes and he knew it would be in theirs too. The question was, what would the judgment be? He remembered who the man’s son was and Luseah’s beg for him to help. He’d gladly let the Fate Dice determine whatever he could with that.

The Auditors returned to their seat and the Grand Oratrice rose. “Does the Sinner wish to cleanse his soul?”

“Yes ma’am I do,” the man answered.

“Are there any other sins that require confessing at this time?”

“Madam Oratrice, I would like to confess that I have connections that can help with the trafficking of flesh and arms through the swamps.”

Bishop listened as he gave up names of people he didn’t recognize. When he was done, the Grand Oratrice announced, “Let the Seer come forth and see our Sinner.”

Bishop eyed Samuel as he came and stood before the dude and touched him like he did the last. Again he wondered what sort of thing he spoke when he did that. Was it a prayer? Mumbo-jumbo?

“The man speaks the truth.”

Judging by The Seer’s tone, he was hoping for lies like Bishop was.

The Grand Oratrice stood again. “The Sinner is found guilty of kidnapping a minor with the intention to traffic. Judgment is an eye for an eye. In this case, the Sinner will give his own son to the father from whom he stole to do with as he sees fit. The Sinner will also pay a fine each month to the Charity of our choice. Default of these judgments will result in loss of limbs. One limb per default. The Judgment Dice will be rolled to determine the fine amount and length of payment. This case is closed. Bring in the next Sinner.”

The Auditor’s verdict bit into Bishop and nearly unglued him. Did he just inherit this dude’s entire fucking son?To do with as he sawfit?

Samuel paused next to Bishop and leaned in. “Remember what I told you.”

The low mutter rang with his earlier admonishments to man the fuck up. The sight of their coven devil being brought in raised the boil in his blood. Seeing they’d stripped him of his unholy robes and had performed a serious degree of physical interrogation should’ve given him a lot of satisfaction. But without the robes, it was obvious that this wasn’t a man, but a fucking boy.

Mother fuck.

“Who is the Parleur for this Sinner?”

“I am,” Bishop said, coming forward and stopping next to the bruised up trembling frame. He suddenly felt judging eyes burning through his back as he recited the crimes committed.

The Grand Oratrice spoke. “Are there any confessions the Sinner would like to make?”

Bishop looked at the lowered head before him. “Do you want to confess, Sinner?” Bishop asked again, getting the same nothing.

“What are the confessions for this Sinner?” the Grand Oratrice asked.

“There were none, Grand Oratrice.”

Bishop looked at Big Sha who apparently served as the Sinner’s Keeper. He met his gaze and the man’s eyes widened a little. “All measures allowed in interrogation were used,” he assured with a nod.

That was obvious.

“He never spoke. Not once,” Big Sha said.

The Auditors mumbled to one another in French while Bishop glanced behind him at the loudly whispering women. Maggie and Beth were in a heated discussion. Bishop connected gazes with Spook and barely nodded toward them. Bishop faced the Auditors when Spook headed to quiet the women before they were kicked out for disruption.

“Let the Seer come forth and see our Sinner,” Grand Oratrice ordered.

Samuel arrived and angled his head at the lowered one before him. He reached out and placed his hand over the crown of his skull, the size difference confirming his young age. The boy began to tremble after a full minute, making Bishop wonder what Seer saw.

He finally withdrew his hand and eyed Bishop with barely a headshake. He faced the Auditors. “I see darkness in the young man but I can’t make out how it’s tied to him.”

“The Sinner will confess or be forced to roll the Fate Dice to discern answers,” Grand Oratrice said.

The boy-man’s silence slowly burned away Bishop’s patience. He nodded at Samuel when they got no answer, and he placed the Fate Dice on the table.

“Roll the dice,” Bishop ordered only to get no answer again. He regarded Samuel then stepped over and grabbed the boy’s jaw, jerking his face up. The empty look in the large brown eyes got hold of him. “How old are you?” Bishop demanded. It wasn’t what he’d wanted to say but it’s what came out. “You need to roll those Fate Dice, boy.”

The boy looked down at the table and slowly picked them up and threw them down.

Samuel stared at the dice then looked at Bishop, his face troubled. Bishop looked at the dice then back at Samuel.

“The boy rolled Gray,” Samuel announced to the Auditors, getting earnest mumbling.

Bishop stepped closer to Samuel. “Remind me what Gray is.”

He leaned and whispered, “Yes and no mean there is sin and there is no sin. It’s as I saw. There’s sin and yet I can’t see how it’s tied to him exactly.”

Bishop locked gazes with him. “The fuck does that mean? He’s Noctambule.”

Samuel leaned, eying the boy before returning his troubled gaze to Bishop. “I know.”

“Excuse me!”

The gavel rang out as Bishop and Samuel turned to find Maggie waving her hand like a student in class.

“Observers are not allowed to speak during court,” Grand Oratrice said.

Bishop and Samuel walked over to her and leaned in to hear what she needed to say.

“I need to touch the boy,” she said, grabbing Samuel’s hand in both of hers.

****

The Seer jolted the moment Maggie touched him, his sight seeming to explode with dark visions all around them. She nodded at him and stood.

“Order!” the Grand Oratrice called with another bang of the gavel.

“Grand Oratrice,” Seer said, keeping hold of Maggie’s hand as he hurried to the front with her. “Maggie is the wife of Spook and she has gifts similar to mine. I can testify personally that her gifts are powerful and accurate as she has used them on me. I would ask that the Auditors permit her to touch the boy and discern what she can.”

The Grand Oratrice whispered to the ladies on her left then right before nodding. “Do as you see fit Seer.”

Seer let go of Maggie’s hand and she went before the boy slowly reaching out with a shaking hand. One hand rested on the right side of his head then she brought the other on the left. Seer stepped back when the darkness he’d seen in the boy rose up all around him, pissed and swirling. Maggie let out a sob as she knelt before him and her hands moved to his face, feeling and tracing the way she’d done to him. Seeing and understanding everything that had been maddening shadows inside him. She wailed and reached a trembling hand behind her toward Samuel. He hurried to her and took hold of it, sucked into a vortex of pain and torture. He dropped to his knees, grabbing Maggie’s shoulder as he saw and understood the darkness and why the dice rolled Gray. There were no sins to confess because the boy was not the perpetrator, he was one of their victims, bound in and by their sins.

“Dear God,” he shot out, heaving as he saw the devastation. Then he saw the thing that cut him the deepest and yanked his hand then Maggie from the boy. He pulled her in his embrace as she screamed and sobbed with the trauma.

“SPOOK!” he yelled, needing him to get her as he stared at the statue still boy.

“What did you see?” Bishop demanded in a harsh whisper.

“Let The Seer speak,” the Grand Oratrice ordered, banging the gavel.

Samuel released Maggie to Spook and turned to the Auditors, fighting to catch his breath and spinning mind. “The boy is not one of theirs. He’s…a prisoner. And he doesn’t speak because…” Seer’s breaths turned ragged with rage as he eyed the boy. “He doesn’t speak because they caused him to be mute.”

Spook had left out with Maggie but her agonizing wails could still be heard in the now silent room full of sorrow and shock.

Seer found Bishop’s confounded gaze. “The Noctambule will surely pay for this.”

He nodded firmly. “They will.”

The gavel rang out again. “We’ll take a thirty-minute recess. When we return, The Bishop’s Twelve will roll the Fate Dice to determine who will care for this boy. Then we’ll conduct the scheduled Gauntlet business after. The Gardien will see to the boy’s immediate needs.”