Our Lady of the Islands (20 page)
Read Our Lady of the Islands Online
Authors: Shannon Page,Jay Lake
Sian sat chained at wrists and ankles to the wall of the cramped and sooty cart. Pino was chained in front of her, tantalizingly out of reach, and mercifully unconscious for some time now. Reikos sat lashed to the opposite wall, staring into space as the cart rumbled along. Half a dozen more soldiers had joined the party after they had been apprehended — the first patrol Pino had spotted, Sian supposed.
“Is
this
your god’s path we are on?” Reikos sighed.
Tears stung Sian’s eyes. “How am I to know? Maybe I am being brought to heal the Factor’s son.”
“In chains?” Reikos shook his head, and looked away again. “I am sorry, Sian. I have failed you terribly.”
“How? This is in no way your doing.”
“If I had not pulled that damned hand-cannon out, well …” A rueful little smile came, and vanished. “I would still have it, for one thing. And I might still be a free man now, able to help you and Pino somehow. Instead of being chained up like a worthless sack of meat in here.”
“Hush,” said Sian. “If anyone’s at fault, it is the woman who refused to flee when you and Pino told her to.” She blinked away her tears and looked at Pino. His wound looked ugly: dark, sluggish blood now saturated patches of his light canvas pants and jacket. He gasped for breath in his unnatural sleep — when he seemed to breathe at all. “They will let me touch you soon,” she whispered.
I hope.
“I will still get us out of this,” said Reikos.
“How?”
He turned to gaze out at the dark street receding behind them. “Somehow.”
She followed his gaze, trying to calculate how much longer it might take them to reach the Factorate House. Then she looked again more closely. Weren’t they going in the wrong direction? Instead of heading toward the bridge to Hither, on their way to Home, the cart seemed pointed back toward the center of Cutter’s. “Where are they taking us?”
Her question was answered not ten minutes later, as they pulled through the lavishly scrolled and gilded ironwork gates of the Census Hall’s gardens and up the long crushed-shell driveway, finally rumbling to a halt in its paved forecourt. The building’s imposing, continental architecture loomed ghostly above them against the moonlit sky, seeming, for all its size and grandeur, somehow huddled nonetheless against the even darker jungle towering around it.
“They’ve brought us to my cousin Escotte’s home,” she said, bewildered.
“The Census Taker?” Reikos asked.
She nodded.
Prefect-Sergeant Ennias appeared at the back of their cart, climbing in with keys in hand. “All right then, come along.” He bent to unlock Sian’s chains from the cart wall.
“May I heal Pino now?”
“Soon enough,” he said, as a second guard climbed into the cart to stand over Reikos. “We’ll bring him to you just as soon as you’re inside with no more trouble, understood?”
“What about me?” Reikos asked.
“You’re fine where you are, for now,” the sergeant said.
“You told us you were from the Factorate,” said Sian.
“Did I?” The sergeant straightened, pulling Sian up beside him. “Let’s get going now.”
Sian was helped out of the wagon by two more soldiers, much less roughly than she had been loaded in, and marched off toward the elegant hall’s wide marble steps, flanked by the sergeant and three other men, rubbing at her chain-chafed wrists.
“If you had simply come with us as asked, my lady,” the sergeant told her, sounding abashed now for some reason, “all that could have been avoided. You’re not actually in any trouble, I don’t think.”
“
What?
” She gaped at him.
“Your arrest was just for show, in case anyone was watching.” He shook his head and glanced back at the wagon. “Damn shame about the boy. What a stupid thing. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how much I can do for either of them now. They did threaten and assault a Factorate embassy. But I will try, my lady.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Sian demanded. “This was some kind of ruse? And yet you will not let me heal Pino? What insanity is this?”
“Sian! My darling cousin!” She whirled about to see Escotte Alkattha, Alizar’s second most powerful official after only the Factor himself, beaming down at her from atop the flight of stairs. He’d come to greet her dressed as if for a formal ball, in falls of purple silk shot through with silver thread. The fabric glimmered in the darkness as he started down with arms spread wide in welcome. The elegant effect was somewhat undermined by the golden squirrel monkey perched on his left shoulder, wrapping its tail around his neck as though to strangle him.
Steps away, Escotte stopped, his smile fading. “You look simply wretched.”
Sian looked down to discover that her dress had gotten soiled and ripped somewhere during their transport here, probably as she’d been
helped
into or out of that filthy wagon. Another of her best silks ruined. She must stop over-dressing for these beatings.
“Come here, come here. What’s happened to you?” Escotte frowned down at the sergeant as Sian came up to stand beside him. The monkey bared its teeth at her and retreated to the opposite shoulder. “Explain her condition, Sergeant.”
“There was unexpected trouble, sir.” The sergeant stared calmly at nothing as he spoke. He didn’t even seem to sweat, despite the sultry night. “We found your cousin in the company of two male companions who mistook our intentions and attacked our men.” Escotte put his hands against his hips and tisked in apparent exasperation, though whether with the sergeant or with Sian’s companions, she was uncertain. “It was necessary to restrain all three of them, sir — to get them here without further risk.”
“You
restrained
my cousin?” Escotte gasped, incredulous.
“It doesn’t matter, Escotte,” Sian said. “It was clearly just a great misunderstanding, as he has said. But one of my friends is badly injured, and the sergeant …” She aborted what she’d been about to say, hopeful that the man might really try to help Reikos and Pino if she didn’t antagonize him further now. “I have had no chance to heal him yet. May I do so now? Please?”
“Heal him?” Escotte said. “So these dreadful rumors I have heard are true, my dear?” He studied her, then grinned. “How fascinating.” He turned back to Ennias. “You heard her, Sergeant. Bring the man to us immediately.”
The officer gave Escotte a stiff nod, and went to do as ordered.
“Oh, thank you, cousin,” Sian said, washed in relief.
“For what?” he asked, all graciousness again. “This is quite convenient, really. I have been hoping to see a demonstration of this … new talent you are credited with. Now it will not be necessary to have someone injured.” He tittered briefly at her shocked expression. “It would not have been a serious injury, of course. We have known each other all our lives, Sian! You cannot think me such a monster. A pricked finger. Something trivial. That is all I meant.” He glanced off toward the forecourt, where several soldiers were hoisting Pino’s limp body from the cart. “Oh,
he
does not look well, though, does he.”
“Escotte, what is going on here?” Sian struggled to control her resurging anger. “The sergeant says that my arrest was just a ruse. Why would you do such a thing? We were frightened out of our minds. My friends would never have attacked your men if we had simply known that you had sent them!”
“Oh, dear cousin!” He threw his arms into the air and rolled his eyes. The monkey hissed and scrabbled onto his back, clutching at his fine robe. “You can have no idea what a wasps’ nest you have stumbled into! None at all. I will explain it all to you, of course. But that will take some time, and they are coming with your friend now.” He patted her shoulder and drew back to watch as the guardsmen arrived to lay Pino’s body on the steps at Sian’s feet. His pallor was ghastly. She could not tell if he was breathing anymore at all.
She fell to her knees, shoving both hands down onto the awful gash at one side of his stomach, steeling herself for the —
Even braced for it as she was, the pain was astonishing. It was all she could do to keep her hands in place and still hold onto consciousness. An involuntary moan escaped her lips, as if the injured boy were moaning through her, like some carnival ventriloquist. As the stench of ginger became stifling, all strength fled Sian’s body, leaving her to sprawl face down across Pino’s torso. Her only remaining thought was for keeping her hands on his wound.
“Domina …?” Pino groaned, squinting down at her, then up at all the others, clearly trying to make sense of where he was, and what was happening. “My lady … what …”
“Amazing!” Escotte cried, rushing in to take a closer look. Dark, congealed blood still clung to Pino’s clothes and skin, but the wound itself had knit back together as if stitched by expert chirurgeons. Already, just a small white scar remained to mark the spot. “I must admit that I did not believe what I was hearing — but it’s true!” He beamed down at Sian, who was only just recovering enough to raise her head again. “Cousin, we have so much to catch up on. And I’m sure you have at least as much to tell me as I have to share with you. Come, come. Oh. Are you unable to rise?” He looked impatiently at all the men still staring down in awe at Pino. “Don’t just stand there, you louts! Help my cousin up! She cannot be left here in a pile on my front steps after such a feat. We must take her to her quarters to revive in comfort. Hurry!” Two soldiers came to grasp Sian beneath the arms, and prop her on her feet as best they could. “Sergeant, please find my cousin’s two companions suitable quarters as well. I believe you know the ones I mean.”
Ennias nodded once again, though Sian thought he looked quite unhappy. Was that because Reikos and Pino weren’t to be arrested after all? She could not focus on the question long enough to wonder further. It was all she could do to navigate the spacious marble steps ahead of her — even with two strong men doing more than half the work. “You will … take good care of them,” she managed to tell Escotte as she was carried past him. “Won’t you?”
“Please don’t concern yourself, my dear,” Escotte offered her an absent wave. “You will all be quite safe now.”
Safe,
she thought.
At last.
What a blessed word.
This late at night, the grand receiving room and public offices of the Census Hall were dark, though Sian was unable to pay much attention to her surroundings. They passed through a few more gilded rooms, and several stairways, the first few grander than the later ones. There were glimpses of crystal and flashes of mirror, and soft voices, and soft hands. Somewhere along the way, the scent and stiffness of leather armor and brass studs had been replaced by the swirl and swish of silk dresses trimmed in lace. Finally, the blessed softness of a mattress stuffed with down. The smooth, cool weight of linen sheets. She wanted to thank the people helping her, but she had such trouble keeping her eyes open anymore.
Safe
, she thought again as sleep pressed her further into the delightful bedding. What threat could touch her now, tucked safely inside her cousin’s home? A man even more powerful than the Mishrah-Khote’s highest priests. And all at once the young priest’s words came back to her. She would have laughed if she’d possessed the strength to. She had stopped running, just as he’d instructed, and been led straight into the highest circles of Alizar’s elite, just as he’d predicted. How clever that boy was. How modest, really.
Now
, she wondered,
whatever will this message I am bearing prove to be …?
Sian awakened in a lovely room, all spun sugar, cream, and gleaming gold. Even the light glowing from beyond the foot of her bed seemed to have a golden cast. And what a delightful bed it was.
Tap tap tap.
Sian raised her head just far enough to glance about. She saw a gilded door. That was what had awakened her; someone knocking at her door. But where was this? Not home; not her townhouse. Then she remembered.
Escotte! She was … “Come in?” Sian drew the covers up around her modestly.
The door cracked gently open, just far enough to admit a pretty face framed in lustrous dark hair pulled back in pearls, and a shoulder draped in pale blue silk. “Domina Kattë? Good morning. I am Cleone, your maid. Would you prefer to sleep a while longer?”
“I … What time is it?”
“Too late for breakfast, and too early for lunch.” The woman smiled impishly. “Though I can bring either to your bedside if you wish.”
Food! What a
wonderful
idea. “I will have both, I think.” Sian gave the maid an impish smile of her own. “If you don’t mind.”
The maid blinked at her. “Both, my lady?”
“Breakfast
and
lunch, please. I’m feeling … rather peckish.”
The young woman brought a graceful hand up to her mouth and giggled, then gave Sian a nod and disappeared again, pulling the door closed without a sound behind her.
Sian grinned in pure delight, stretched luxuriously, then threw back her covers to find herself wrapped in a white silk nightgown woven out of air itself, if she was any judge. And who would be a better judge of fabric than she? She stood up and looked around for the dress she had arrived in. It was nowhere to be seen, which was not surprising, she supposed, given its condition by the time she’d gotten here.
She wandered to the room’s great, delicately partitioned windows, and gazed down at a garden full of gorgeous orchids and hibiscus. There was a marble fountain filled with flowering lilies, a graceful stand of carefully manicured date palms, and, in another corner of the courtyard, a fig tree heavy with ripe fruit. Luridly blooming bougainvillea crawled up the opposite wall, almost too bright to look at. A large frilled lizard clung to the wall as well, several stories up.
Safe
, she thought again, and sighed.
The gentle tapping came again.
“Come in.” She took no care to cover herself this time.
It was the maid, as she’d suspected.
“Would my lady like to dress before her meal, or eat first?”
“I seem to have no clothes,” Sian said, gesturing around the room.
“Oh, but no one will have shown you yet! How silly of me. May I enter?”
“Of course,” Sian replied, unused to such deference.
The maid swept in and walked briskly to what seemed nothing but one more of many gilded panels on the room’s walls. When she pushed this panel with her fingers, however, it issued a soft click, then swung outward to reveal an entire closet full of dresses, which Sian saw instantly were … really rather hideous.
Everything was both far too elaborate and many years behind the times, as if someone had stuffed all the ladies at some dreadful coronation ball into this little space fifteen or twenty years ago, then locked the door and left them until everything had rotted away except their dresses. Where in all of Alizar, Sian wondered, had her cousin acquired these? And why ever had he kept them?”
“I … will eat first, I believe,” Sian told the maid.
Clearly perceiving her dismay, the maid said, “These are what your cousin had sent up, my lady. But, if you wish, I am sure he will not mind if I find something … simpler?”
“That would be lovely, if you’re sure he wouldn’t mind.” Sian had no wish to risk insulting her host — at the best of times, much less right now.
“I will bring the food, then,” said Cleone, “and go find you something nice to wear while you are eating, if that is acceptable?”
“Thank you. Yes.”
The maid smiled, and ducked out of the room again. A moment later she was back, pushing the door wide to drag in a silver cart barely narrow enough to fit through. It was laden with more elaborate confections, more smoked and salted meats and fish, more fresh-baked breads and cunning little rolls, more savory cheeses and delicately sliced and sugared fruits and nuts than Sian had ever seen. And a whole rack of lovely wines and morning cordials, plus — naturally — a silver pot of kava with a matching pitcher of heavy cream. She raised both hands to her face in wonder, and laughed aloud.
“Is anything amiss, my lady?” Cleone asked. “Do you require something more?”
“Oh no.” She laughed again. “This will keep me very busy for a while.”
“I will go then,” Cleone said happily, already moving toward the door with brisk efficiency. “But I will not be long.” She turned to point over her shoulder at a velvet pull hanging in the corner. “If you require anything before I’m back, just tug at that.”
“I’ll be fine, Cleone. Thank you. Very much.”
“Your pleasure is my own.” And the girl was gone again.
True to her word, Cleone returned not fifteen minutes later. When Sian bade her enter, she walked in with arms full of silk and various other accoutrements, set them on the bed, turned to say something to Sian, and saw the virtually empty meal cart. Her mouth dropped open as she cast a startled glance around the room, as if all that food might merely have been moved for some strange reason.
Sian could not help grinning. “I have a very healthy appetite these days.”
Recalling herself, Cleone snapped her mouth closed, and lowered her eyes in chagrin. “Would my lady like to sample something more?” she asked demurely.
Sian shook her head. “Not until it’s time for lunch, at least.”
Cleone arched her brows, then allowed herself to grin as well. “Shall we see then if the dress I’ve brought is any more to your liking?”
“Please,” Sian said, thinking it could hardly be much worse.
Cleone shook out and held up a simple shift in light green silk with accents and delicate piping in darker emerald.
Sian sighed in relief. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Very well. Let’s get my lady dressed then,” Cleone chirruped.
They had hardly finished when a less delicate knock came at Sian’s door. “Cousin? Are you decent?” Escotte called. “I am extremely eager to continue last night’s conversation.”
Sian nodded to Cleone, who went to admit him.
Escotte entered in a robe all stripes and paisleys, mauve and gray and charcoal. Less glimmer but more ruffles than the previous night’s attire; it didn’t clash as badly with the monkey. “You may leave us,” he said to Cleone, who dropped him an unsmiling curtsy and left without a word. “So, my dear Sian. How did you sleep? Well, I hope?”
“Quite well, cousin. Thank you. The bed is marvelous, as is Cleone and every other aspect of the hospitality I’ve been shown here.”
“Good,” he said, then paused to examine her with a frown. “You did not find the dresses I had sent to you?”
“Oh! Why … yes, of course. Cleone showed them to me right away. But they seemed far to nice to waste just wandering around my room here. I assumed they were for some special occasion? Dinner perhaps?” Escotte still looked … hurt? “I’m honored by your thoughtfulness,” Sian rushed to add, “but I asked Cleone to find me something simpler — just to loaf around in. You don’t mind, do you?”
He shrugged. “Of course not. Those were just some old things Víolethe left behind.”
“Oh.” That would explain it. His wife’s taste had always run toward excess
.
“Is Víolethe not here? She is well, I hope?”
“She is fine, and will be pleased to hear that I have seen you looking in such good health as well, despite your, er, clothing and all.” Escotte went to pour himself a little glass of morning cordial from one of the un-emptied bottles on her breakfast cart. He studied the decimated cart with interest, then turned to give Sian a curious look as the monkey hopped down and started looking through the empty dishes. “My wife does not so often reside here on the islands anymore,” Escotte added, going to sit in the room’s most spacious chair, arranging his robes with care, lest some important pleat or panel be crushed. “Víolethe seems to prefer cooler climes now. I suspect it’s something to do with the change.” He made a dismissive little gesture of distaste.
“The change?” Sian asked, unsure whether this was just a vague reference to Alizar’s troubled economic condition, or some part of the ‘wasps’ nest’ he’d referred to last night.
“You know.” He laid a hand against his groin. “These sudden spells of heat that overtake her at all hours. I can understand how Alizar’s warm climate might exacerbate … all that.”
Sian tried not to look too startled — or to laugh. “And how are your children?”
“All well,” he said, sipping at his cordial. “Kareen is to be married in a fortnight. I am sorry we were unable to invite you, but, given my position, the guest list is already as horrific as you might imagine, and times being as they are…”
“Of course,” she murmured. She had not invited any of her cousins to Maleen’s wedding either, if only because they were all so much more important than she was that she had wanted to spare them the discomfort of having to decline.
There was a crash as the monkey toppled a chafing-dish. “Gigi, no,” Escotte scolded. The monkey returned to his shoulder — sulking, Sian was sure of it.
“How are Reikos and Pino this morning?” she asked, wondering suddenly why they had not yet come to see her.
“Who?”
“My companions. From last night. Does Pino still seem well?”
“Oh! Yes, his health was really quite remarkable this morning. That was quite a marvel, dear. I, myself, am still recovering, just from the astonishment.”
“Could I prevail upon you to invite them up to see me when we’re done?”
“Sadly, that will not be possible. They are no longer here.”
“
What?
Where would they have gone?”
“As I believe I mentioned to you last night, dear, though I well understand why you might not remember, we are all embroiled at the moment in a tangle of very delicate dilemmas. Now that he is reassured of your safety, your good captain has agreed to help us
navigate
, if you’ll excuse the pun, one of our more urgent peccadilloes. He and his young crewman set sail very early this —”
“No!” she gasped. “That isn’t possible! Without even saying goodbye? I can’t believe —”
“You were sound asleep, my dear,” Escotte calmly interjected. “We all concurred that, given everything you’ve been through these past few days, it would be best to let you have your rest. They did ask me to convey their deepest affection, of course, and their delight at your newfound security here. I would tell you more about what they have gone to do, but it is all extremely hush-hush. And to be honest, it is almost as important to have them safely off the streets of Alizar right now as it is to keep your presence here a secret. You have acquired enemies, my dear, to my amazement, and until all this can be sorted out, your two friends know far too much about you for their own safety.”
“What are all these games about, Escotte?” she demanded. “First it’s false arrest. Then Pino nearly dead. Now you’re telling me that my two dearest friends have just disappeared mysteriously in the night, without a word to me? I’m sorry, cousin. While I am deeply grateful for your help, I must insist that someone tell me what is really happening.”
“But, my dear Sian, that is precisely what I’ve come to do.” He gave her a patient smile. “If you will but allow me to.” He sat back and took another sip of cordial, then ruffled the monkey’s fur. “I’ve been waiting half the morning for you to be up and finished with your … breakfast.” He gave her naked cart another glance. “Such an appetite, my dear. Did the temple fail to feed you very well?”
“You knew I was there?”
“Not until your two friends informed us of it. Though we had begun to fear something of the sort. There have been so many disturbing rumors circulating.”
“Then I assume they also told you I was tortured there — before they left, I mean?” She had no idea anymore which of her proliferating questions to pursue first.
“Yes,” he said, setting his glass down with a grimace. “How absolutely dreadful for you. Clearly we were not a moment too soon in gathering you to safety here.”
“But why do it that way, Escotte? I still don’t understand. If your men had simply told us they were sent to offer refuge, I’d have thrown myself into their arms, and Pino never would have suffered so for trying to protect me.”
“I’ve been trying to contact you more directly for days, my dear,” Escotte protested. “I’ve sent letters to your home on Little Loom Eyot, your townhouse on Viel. I even sent inquiries to your daughter on Malençon. Forgive me, I’ve suddenly misplaced her name.”
“Maleen.”
“Yes, of course: Maleen. But when you did not respond, I began to think that you were hiding. From
me
. Your own cousin.” He placed a hand against his heart, looking wounded. “With all these nasty stories I’ve been hearing, what was I to think? I confess, it even crossed my mind to wonder if you really might have fallen into league with that fanatic priest.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “The one who leads this new cult of the Butchered God.” He seemed to shiver in revulsion at the thought, and got up to pour himself another drink, putting a hand on the monkey’s tail as though to keep it in place. “Anything for you, dear?”