15. Chapter 15
Melisanna created some noble excuse for Ora to follow her before we all set about the city—which only increased Beralt’s irritation.
Moments passed before they both returned, and when they did, Ora donned a new dress of reds and golds that accentuated her petite figure and eyes.
If one looked carefully, they would even see that she had a new pep in her step.
I smiled at the thought and silently thanked Melisanna for assisting my sister.
“A queen must always look her best” was her short reply before following behind Beralt, her eyes locked onto the ground.
Ora walked with Sury on one side and Beralt on the other, who gestured wildly with his hands as he talked about crops and complete nonsense almost the entire time. Peiro and I followed beside Melisanna, while Fyom guarded us at the back with a clear view over everyone in the party.
“As you know, our Airus Wielders are some of the strongest in Gria, and most work in the mills,” he stated as we passed a large section of windmills.
“Most that you see here grind our grain. Over there in the distance, some are used for tasks like pressing oils or making paper. We have other mills set across the territory that pump water to Ventus Bluff and the smaller villages. But our very best Wielders are sent to the mountains to carve out new homes for business associates or for those who simply want a wind-carved home within the mountainscapes.” Beralt laughed, like something was overly humorous once again.
“My, your territory seems to be excelling exceptionally well,” Ora stated calmly.
“Oh, yes. Our coffers are doing very nicely.” Beralt beamed.
“With all the mills and carving, that would take even the most exemplary Wielders a large amount of energy. What do you do to give back to the community for all of their hard efforts that line your coffers so well?”
Beralt stopped abruptly and looked at Ora as if she had grown an extra head. “Give back? Why, their wages, of course. Give back?” He scoffed as he mumbled, “Women and their ideas.”
Ora hummed. “And what about burnout? I would imagine that could be a threat to those who spend all day carving mountains with their Wielding. Do they work alongside Earthen Wielders to help distribute the labor?”
“Why, Aurora, we have Healers on site. Maybe not as good as my new friend Fyom here, but they get on. Perhaps I could persuade your man here to take on a new job. What say you?” Beralt’s smile beamed so wide that I noted bits of his earlier meal still stuck between his teeth.
Fyom’s patience looked like it was threatening to thin, but surprisingly enough, his composure was still intact. I think. “Again, I will respectfully decline, but I do not mind taking a look at your city’s infirmary to ensure everyone is trained in the ways they need.”
Beralt raised his eyebrow. “An infirmary? For the workers?”
“Yes. How else would you triage and treat anyone who is injured? Burnout is a serious condition that could lead to death, and depending on the strength of the Wielder, it can take days or weeks of recovery—even with the proper medicines and Healing techniques.”
“Oh.” Beralt gave Fyom a questionable look, like he had never heard of the notion until this day.
“With the strenuous labor between your mills and carving new homes, do you experience many Wielders who undergo a burnout?” Ora’s question sounded light and full of intrigue, but I knew my sister and the hidden hostility laced underneath the flattering tone.
She was fishing for information to keep in her pockets.
“Why, uh—”
Beralt was interrupted by Melisanna stepping forward.
“The lord and I were just devising a plan to help balance the tasks and challenges that have been historical here in Ventus Bluff. I would love to show you the numbers I’ve compiled and the plan that could be mutually beneficial.
Let’s walk back toward the manor and discuss this over a luncheon.
” Her smile was more timid than earlier.
I watched Beralt chew on his cheek and rest his hands on his hips when Melisanna took Ora’s arm into hers.
Ora’s smile matched the lady’s, but I knew the message was clear: the “historical” issue of Wielders being worked too hard at the mills for the sake of greed.
Melisanna would make a fine leader here one day, even if her Wielding might not be as strong as her husband’s.
That would be something my sister and I would change once she resumed the throne—tearing down the vicious hierarchy of power our parents seem to have been so content with.
We all followed silently as Melisanna led the way, idly chatting with Ora about various matters within their territory.
Our original path took us on the outskirts, but the lady was adamant about showing Ora the lively parts of the city she loved, with the music hall being one of her most frequented places.
She even mused about a traveling troupe of musicians that brought her to tears with such beautiful music.
Many of the buildings were of typical architecture and all made of various stones.
The structures in the business district turned out to be almost identical in nature, with even the building for their archives being quite small and unremarkable.
Ora lightly asked Lady Melisanna what sort of records they kept in the building, with the lady replying that it was mostly tax documents and permits.
It quickly diminished my hopes that there would be any information here regarding the keys or the prophecy that loomed over us.
We had just rounded the corner of shops that led us to the city square when Ora stopped in her tracks.
“What’s wrong?” I said as I hurried to her side. She didn’t have to answer as I saw what had caused her to still. We both gasped as we took in the countless number of people in various sized stocks.
People of all ages, some so old and frail that they needed a chair to sit on.
Children no older than six were in smaller constructed ones.
Every single one of them was dirty and wore thin rags.
I rapidly blinked back tears as I looked at each of their solemn faces.
The elderly citizens could barely stand, while a few had slumped in a way that made me curious if their souls were still here on this plane.
Many of the children wailed, too dehydrated to produce tears.
It was impossible to dismiss the bruises on them, all in various stages of healing, and their dried, cracked lips.
My anger took a swan dive as I looked upon their faces and their eyes begging for release.
“Lord Beralt,” Ora called over her shoulder. “Pray tell, why are so many people in the stocks? And in your city square? Have they all committed some sort of crime?”
“Ah, why yes, of course, Aurora. I’m not a barbarian.” He laughed once again, like she had made a sickening joke, and clasped his hands behind his back. The appearance made him look as if he were simply observing a work of art.
“How long have they been here?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Where are the children’s parents?”
“Good question. I don’t keep personal counts of how long prisoners are here.” Beralt scratched his beard with a deep, sickening chuckle. “And it’s also unlawful for any citizen to tamper with a prisoner in the stocks, unless they want to join them.”
“And their crimes?” Ora whispered, tears forming in her eyes. My own tears began to form, but these weren’t tears of sadness—these were tears of resentment.
“Oh. Uhm. Let me check.” Beralt snapped his fingers at a guard who held a scroll and hurried to our group. He bowed lowly toward Beralt before standing at attention. “You, guard, what are these criminals here for?”
The man looked at the lord with large eyes before correcting himself as he unrolled the scroll and made his announcement.
“Here are the thirty-six criminals that stand before you who have colluded, evaded taxes, or stolen from Lord Ivan Beralt. Each criminal must show penitence for their crimes for seven solid days—or three, if their age requires it of them.”
“Seven days?” Ora whispered harshly and stumbled back into Melisanna’s arms. I took note of the hard expression on the woman’s face and suspected she had wanted Ora to see this. To see the injustice on her people. “And you would keep children in the stocks? For three days?”
Judging by their state and injuries, I suspected many of these children had been here for longer than three days. The more I looked, I noticed that deep welts from some unknown device patterned the prisoners’ skin, each leaving a tiny wake of black veins.
“They stole, Aurora. I have to make an example out of them.” It wasn’t lost on me that this was the second time he refused to address her as queen. I fumbled with my lip as my Wielding itched to be called the more I took in the scene.
Do it. Make him bow before you and lick the shit off your boot. Just a small call to your power is all it would take. You can be his puppet master.
The idea was too good to ignore. My Wielding flashed in my hand but halted the moment I felt callused fingers clasp mine, followed by a deep hiss of pain. I looked up to see that Peiro had stood closer but kept his eyes on the small children. His own fury was unmistakable.
“What was so precious of yours that these children deserved the stocks?” Ora inclined her head to the lord.
“Oh, uhm, let me read the scroll.” He took it from the guard to scan the contents. “Let’s see…a few took bread and apples from a cart. Some trampled over the manor’s lawn, dispelling flowers.”
Ora hummed in rage. “They’re in the stocks for trampling on flowers? And what of the collusion and tax offenses?”
Beralt rolled his eyes and read more of the scroll, his annoyance palpable. “Collusion to over power his lordship.” Melisanna shifted uncomfortably and glanced at her husband. “Tax evasion for not paying their semi-quarterly duty…”
“Were these crimes proven?” Ora hissed. “Did they have a fair trial? Or a trial at all?”
Beralt scoffed as he held his head high. “If my guards deemed them to be here, then so be it.”
I watched Sury shift closer to Ora with a look that I could only describe as wanting to slice through this lord’s neck.
He’d have to wait in line behind me.
“So. Conspiracies and not paying more into what they had already paid?” I watched Ora start shaking as she spoke. “And what are these markings?”
“Signs of a prisoner,” Beralt dismissed quickly.
“Historical offenses, your majesty.” I didn’t mistake Melisanna’s whisper as she kept her head low and turned away from the scene.
“Let them out,” Ora seethed vociferously through her teeth.
“But Aurora, they’re criminals.” He laughed. It was the third time in this exchange he hadn’t addressed her formally.
Imagine holding him down onto the ground with your Wielding.
His face bleeding from the pebbles and debris that embedded themselves within his flesh.
He’s held in place as your sister takes a knife to gut him.
If she doesn’t have the gall to do it herself, you can pluck his lifesource without batting an eyelash.
I licked my lips in anticipation of what his lifesource would feel like in my palm.
A strong hand squeezed mine. I rapidly blinked my eyes to rid the growing gray edges before it got worse.
A new voice entered my mind. My imagination made it sound similar to Peiro’s. Don’t lose control. Focus on the here. The now. What do you see?
But focusing on the here only made me rage more.
I was trapped; my senses couldn’t find solid ground to keep me present.
My body tensed as I forced my Wielding to remain at bay.
Another strong hand took my free one and caged it within a soft, solid palm.
I looked up to see Fyom standing close beside me.
I should have felt caged between him and Peiro, but the softness of them both helped steady me in this moment.
I could only watch my sister as I worked to bury my Wielding that threatened to break free.
“I said to let them out, Ivan, or so giants help me,” Ora snarled as she ripped her hold from Melisanna and stood directly in front of the small-peened weasel.
“I command you to let them go. Their crimes have been paid and I will cover the costs of whatever coin is missing from your precious coffers.” Ora looked to Melisanna with care.
“Take them to the Healers. The children and elderly will be treated first, then the rest after that, depending on the severity of their state.”
“Yes, your majesty.” Melisanna curtsied with her head bowed.
“I will provide my aid.” Fyom stepped forward with a small pulse to my hand before letting go.
Beralt stood there with his bottom lip between his teeth, seething. “They all have reached their final day anyways.” He sneered then waved off the guard to release the prisoners.
The way back was tense, with Beralt leading the charge.
Peiro and I held our tongues as we followed.
I could read his face as he looked at the people and the injustice that had been dealt.
We both felt the pain of seeing people treated so callously based on mere theories and nonexistent proof.
Once we were back to the manor, Beralt excused himself, issuing a vague explanation of needing to miss our luncheon and proposing we have lunch in our given rooms.
None of us said a word as we turned back toward the guest wing, all silently seething.