21. Brass
“My king,”
said a new voice, this time from the table on the left.
The slender man with white blond hair and a refined face of perhaps forty winters was standing.
He was wearing the black cotton and leather of the military men, but over it was that rich, embroidered robe of mossy greens and browns.
“My king,”
he repeated, his words and expression warm.
“May I approach you and the lady, so as to offer my counsel?”
“Cian, Cian, Cian,”
sighed Hinnom.
“If you must, priest.
Quickly!”
He sort of sang out the last word.
The blond man stepped out from behind his table and approached, but his steps led towards me, not his ruler.
He approached me with caution and a friendly face.
“Madam,”
he began, addressing me.
“May I hold your hand? Your left hand?”
He held out both of his.
Awkwardly, I extended my tattooed hand.
He took it in his own dry, slim-fingered hands, one caressing my hand from beneath and one from above.
“Madam, be at peace.
I will not harm you.”
“Mad priest, what are you about?”
said Hinnom.
“Let Cian do what he needs,”
said the prince.
The blond man rubbed his hands over my hand, lifting the one on top and inspecting the tattoo the way Hinnom had.
Then he smiled at me.
“Lady Edie, I believe you’ve earth magic in you.”
Around me, a ripple of interest fluttered through the other people in this chamber of horrors.
Behind me, I heard Mischa’s and Maureen’s intakes of breath.
“Oh, does she now!”
said Hinnom.
“Marvelous! And it be earth magic! Very nice, very lucky! Alright, keep her and kill the rest.”
“No!”
I shouted.
The chamber went deathly still.
Cian dropped my hand in surprise.
I thought I heard Alric inhale.
What had I done? What in the name of every god ever worshipped had I just done? I was surely dead now.
Hinnom turned to me, his mouth curling upward.
“My, my.
You are a bold one, madam.
Bold as brass, as your countrymen say.”
“I apologize,”
I gasped out.
“I am sorry, sire.
I am not used to royalty.”
He took me in, pulling away from his brother, stepping past where Cian stood so that he was right up against me, his face peering down at mine.
“I know that you are from a kingless, as well as a godless, place.
But, beautiful priestess,”
and he paused to run an icy hand over my braid crown.
“I have killed men for breathing the wrong way in my presence.
Know this.
For there will not be a second mistake.
Not for you, Lady Edie.
Not now.”
“You are most merciful, your highness,”
I whispered up into his face, searching the depths of those eyes for any sign of lenience.
Hinnom stepped back from me and turned towards his brother and the blond man called Cian.
“Very well, then, she can yet live.
But the rest are quite useless to me.”
He directed his last words to Alric.
“You know I cannot use them for ransom.
Eccleston doesn’t have priestesses for their old saint.
They will not renegotiate a trade agreement for nine common women.”
“One of us is a Tigon,”
I blurted out.
I ignored all the gazes on me, looking to the king, who was livid.
“One of us is a Tigon, sire.”
Hinnom waved his hand towards me.
“Well, she can obviously live! Perhaps she can be of use to our cause.
That is no name to be sneered at.
Which one is she?”
He looked past me to the other women and I prayed none of them looked at Catrin.
“We cannot tell you, sire,”
I said, again ignoring the widening of eyes around me.
I thought I saw Alric mouth my name.
“We cannot tell you until you promise us all quarter.
Your highness.”
Hinnom drew himself close again, speaking down into my face, both hands now caressing my braid, tilting my head back.
“And, Lady Edie, who will feed and clothe these women? How will they earn their shelter in my Shark’s Keep? Or even in my grand city of Pikestully? Will you whore yourselves out? We have many fine brothels.
Will you scale my fish? Will you scrub my floors? Will you shine my boots? Will you warm my cold, cold bed, lovely Edie, with your round hips and splendid breasts?”
I swallowed the spit in my mouth and I answered him.
“Whatever keeps us alive, your highness.
All of us alive.”
He bellowed with laughter, falling away from me, his hand on his chest.
“She is a treasure, Alric! Whether you were fooled by her priestess ruse or fell for her fair face, I do not care! Do not worry, priestess,”
he said, turning towards me.
“I am no plunderer.
You will not be ravaged, not one of you.”
A thought that it was too late for Helena crossed my mind.
“However,”
he continued, now approaching Alric.
“You have failed me, Captain Procurer.
A great failure, indeed.
And it must be punished. Also,”
and he paused and pointed a finger on either side of Alric, to Perch and to Thatcher.
“Did your sergeants fall for this priestess ruse as well?”
“We did, sire,”
answered an earnest Thatcher.
Perch bowed his head.
Alric met Hinnom’s scouring stare head on, but his chin was dipped down with a show of regard for his king.
“I see.”
Hinnom crossed his arms and turned back towards the steps leading up to the shark’s jaw, but he did not step up all the way to his throne.
Now that he was somewhat higher than all assembled, he faced his audience, eyes roving over the room and began to speak.
“You will be very busy, captain.
I see the coming moons as a time of trial for you.
Not only must you host Procurer trials to replace the loss of your man, which, if I’m not mistaken, you cut down yourself? Ha! I would love to watch you explain that to his family.
Had he a wife?”
No one answered the king and I thought, they must know his moods, intuiting which questions were for a theatrical purpose and which begged answering.
The king continued.
“Not only that but you must bear your sentence, my good man.
And I hereby sentence you, captain.”
Hinnom crossed his arms again, his former nonchalance replaced with a somber consideration.
“Thus will be the punishment of Captain Alric Angler and his two sergeants.
Alric, you will fund the citizenship, housing and clothing of these nine women.
If it leaves you bereft, it leaves you bereft.
I expect them all to be gainfully employed by day’s end tomorrow.
Your two men will assist in this.
We already know what this lady will do.
She will train as an acolyte under Cian in the temple of Mother Earth.
So that is one less thing for you to manage.”
“That is the height of grace, my king,”
said Alric, his tone without emotion.
“I’m not finished,”
said Hinnom, waving his pointer finger at the captain.
“Your sergeants will each pick one of these women to wed this winter at the time of our sharks’ mating season.
And you, Alric, will marry the Lady Edie on the morrow.
And keep her as your lifelong bride, this holy temptress who lured you into her spurious temple.”