Bellica Page 17

  That hope had been dashed when the recruiters had refused her crippled body for service. They'd not said it, but to them she was unfit for any service a woman or man in Athering could perform. It'd been clear in their eyes.

  She'd given up healing. Her town needed her abilities, meager as they were, but through her bitterness she could not bring herself to care. Besides, she was sure another healer would come along eventually.

  I wasn't sure, to be fair. I hoped, so I would not have to take up that mantle again.

  That hope had been answered, and within a year of rejection by the military, a new healer had come to town, Lorrie of Two-Sides. Upon her arrival the woman had made a professional visit to Molly and had committed the mistake of offering to fix the ex-healer's leg. Molly had screamed at her to get out, and they'd not spoken since.

  It was just as well. Molly had cut off her life. Her main contact with the outside world was through her work in the tavern, or her brother, Luis.

  It was true she had been adopted by the tavern owners, a childless family at the time. Apparently the arrival of Molly had galvanised a previously recalcitrant fertility, and in 4003 Luis had been born.

  Molly loved her brother. Luis was the one who had taught her to play and who had broken down her seriousness. She had protected him when they were kids. When her accident had happened, Luis had not left her bedside until she could walk again.

  Luis was the only person with whom she could relax and be herself, and she was the only person he trusted with his secrets.

  No wonder her blood boiled now.

  Among her many vices and habits of ill-repute, Duchess Danika had a penchant for young men. It was rumoured that her harem had boys as young as nine years of age, drugged up on ailina, an expensive import from the Jasmine Isles, so they'd be ready to service her at any time of the day or night. She selected them from the townspeople and, once they were too old or broken to attend to her needs anymore, they were thrown into the streets, too abused to be any good as workers. The number of beggars on Aeril's streets had risen exponentially since Duchess Danika's...ascension.

  Periodically she made rounds of the town, hunting new playthings. Today Molly had needed something from the Market and Luis had volunteered to go in her stead so that she could wait for the mail. Luis was sixteen, healthy and quite good-looking. He'd not escaped Duchess Danika's gaze.

  He'd been permitted to go home to deliver his market goods, but not without an escort that waited just outside. Luis would not try to escape, Molly knew. That would endanger his family, something he'd never do.

  "You can't go," Molly said, the futility of her words sinking into her shoulders like claws.

  "I must." He was putting away the goods as slowly as possible, to afford time for a goodbye.

  "How do you expect to survive?" Thunk-step, thunk-step as she limped over to grab his arm. "You've seen her used toys. You've seen what happens...." She broke off, a lump in her throat, salt stinging her eyes.

  Luis looked at her with the same sadness. His words did not match his expression. "The results of years under her, Mo," he said, using her childhood nickname. She had to bite back more tears. "I'll survive. I don't expect to be there that long."

  She caught the meaning of his words. How did he expect her to stage a rescue, as crippled as she was? They both knew no rescue would be possible without a rebellion, which Molly could not pull off by herself.

  "You'll have help," he said, their familiarity letting him answer questions she didn't say. "Selene told me so."

  "You've been talking to the moon again, I see."

  "I am a man of faith, Sister."

  "You're a boy of faith. And it's wasted. No Goddess worth believing in would allow the cruelties of this world to persist." She could not resist the tears now, and wanted to hit herself in anger when she felt the wet trails they left down her face. Luis shook his head and embraced her, letting her silent sobs soak his shirt.

  "Dear sister...think you life will not get better?"

  "It never has."

  "Was my coming so unimportant, then?"

  A pause. "That's not what I meant and you know it. But we're trapped in this world, caught under the pressure of injustice until it crushes us to dust."

  "No, no, dear one," he responded, stroking her hair soothingly. "The Goddesses speak to all of us. We've just forgotten how to listen. The time has come for us to remember, and I know things will get better."

  She pulled away from him. "How do you know?"

  He smiled, but there was no joy in it. "Because if I do not, I can not continue. I will believe in our survival because I can believe nothing else." He glanced to the door. A shadow crossed his face. "My time is over. We will see each other again, Love." He bent slightly to brush his lips to hers, and then was gone from her arms before she could hold him fast.

  She watched his retreating back until the late day sun swallowed his figure up. Then, not caring who saw or thought what, she flung herself on the ground and sobbed, wishing all of herself to be cloven in two along with her heart.

  ~

  When she'd lost consciousness and how she'd ended up in her room she did not know. She could only guess her parents had managed it..

  It was late, past midnight. She could see no stars from her window, for the street lanterns of Aeril obscured the wonders of the night sky from view.

  She felt emptied, her soul spilled out and washed away with the rain of her tears. Luis was gone. That was her only reality right now. Luis was gone, and without him she no longer wished to live.

  He was as good as dead in Duchess Danika's clutches. Molly knew this, he knew this, anyone with two eyes and half a brain in Aeril knew this. No one escaped the Seraglio intact. No one.

  Yet he'd seemed so optimistic. What did he know that she didn't? What had she missed? She tore through her brain, searching for an answer and finding none. In despair, she turned over and closed her eyes. She was tired of thinking. She wanted to sleep and not wake up.

  ~

  With a sharp intake of breath she was awake. Predawn light rested on the eastern horizon. She'd dreamt of Luis.

  "What?" she pleaded of him. "What have I missed?"

  He shook his head, almost laughing, and turned away from her. She cried out and ran after him, but he was gone, going into the arms of....

  "Damien," she whispered aloud. Of course.

  Part of Luis' reason for going to market had been a meeting with Damien, away from his family's eyes. There were a few secluded alleys in Aeril's ghetto. They stole time in those alleys.

  Damien must have been at market when Luis had been chosen. She guessed he would have offered to go in Luis' place, pleading Luis' family obligation. Danika would then have taken them both. Two young boys for the price of one.

  They were all free to the Lady. If she had to pay for them, Aeril would be rich and she broke by now. How unfortunate it is just the opposite.

  She relaxed into her pillows and stared at the dawn for a while. Now that she'd figured it out, she felt a bit better. Not much, but enough for her to breathe -- to live -- again.

  Luis would be expecting her rescue. She should begin planning. Did she dare risk a letter to Selina?

  A yawn took her by surprise, and suddenly she felt very weary. Planning can wait. Unrested minds make fatal mistakes.

  She turned again, wriggled for comfort and closed her eyes. She dreamed no more that night.

  Yarrow

  Jourd'Selene, 22nd Decima

  Yarrow was glad leave was over. She'd spent a restful and quiet month alone in Harbourtown. After a tredicem she'd become bored; another six days later, she was crazy with inactivity. To keep her mind and body in shape she took to running up and down the length of the shoreline every day at dawn. It was too cold to swim. Trust Zanny to give us leave in the coldest season of the year.

  When she'd wearied of walking down memory lane, eating, sleeping, or being gawked at by townspeople, she'd gone to secluded areas to
think. Countless hours of her vacation had been spent in an isolated cove, sitting on a rock and staring at the waves.

  That had been her purpose. She had come to Harbourtown hoping her mother's spirit would give her some guidance. Not that she literally believed Zameera lived in the sea, or the town -- she was simply more clearly reminded of her mother there and so could listen to what she knew was really her own judgment. It was the only judgment she relied on, in the end.

  Those hours in the cove had yielded some decisions, and by the time she rode into Atherton at dawn on the twenty-second of Decima, she felt considerably better about her circumstances. Which was not saying much, but at least now she felt less helpless, able to do something -- and that did wonders for Yarrow's stability. And peace of mind, as much as she could attain that.

  Surveying her surroundings in the dawn light, she was surprised to see her comrade Anala riding out of the West Gate, in the direction of Harbourtown. Alone.

  She tugged on the reins and urged Pyrrhus towards the other bellica. "Anala, what ho? Leave's over -- it's too late to visit your family!" She tried to make her voice jocular, but Anala visibly flinched at her words.

  The second bellica had stopped her horse, however, and now Yarrow was close enough to touch her. She did so, grabbing Anala's arm gently. "What gives, friend? Where are you off to?" It was the first time in years she'd used the honorific for her comrade.

  "I'd be on an assignment to our neighbour nation," Anala said after a pause.

  Yarrow froze in shock, keeping careful eye contact with Anala. A thousand questions ran through her head and she wanted to yell them. She barely kept her voice calm.

  "Who sent you?"

  Anala's face said it all. Yarrow swore viciously, her lips curling back in a snarl. Anala raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

  "Why?" she said through clenched teeth. What business could her sister possibly have with their mother's murderer, that she would send her second-best bellica alone?

  Anala shook her head. "I cannae tell ye that, Yarrow. I risked enough telling Aro, ye ken." Yarrow frowned, about to ask more, to get the classified information from Anala, when she belatedly caught the meaning of the other bellica's words.

  She nodded. Anala returned the gesture.

  Releasing her grip on Anala's arm, Yarrow sat back in her saddle and said her farewell. "Travel safely, friend. May Bellona protect you from harm."

  "I thank ye kindly, and I'd be seeing ye in little less than a month, friend."

  Yarrow restrained the urge to hug Anala, whose eyes glistened with unshed tears. This could be goodbye forever -- but bellicas didn't talk of such things. They accepted them. That was their job.

  Yarrow blinked furiously as Anala rode off. She did not turn to watch her friend go.

  ~

  Upon her entry of the castle, Yarrow's fingers encircled the arm of the nearest servant. The girl squeaked as the bellica drew her close until they were face to face.

  "Major Aro -- where is he?"

  "I know not, My Lady." The girl was visibly frightened, but Yarrow did not care right now.

  "Find him. Tell him Bellica Yarrow seeks him and wishes to speak to him post haste." She released the girl and stood back up. All too eager to be away, the youngling picked up her dropped linens and scampered off.

  Yarrow felt a small twinge of remorse as she watched the retreating figure, but smothered the feeling ruthlessly. It was no time to be soft -- not until she learned what was going on. And perhaps not even then.

  ~

  It was over two hours before Aro arrived at her quarters. She'd long since unpacked her bags, bathed, and rested.

  "Come!" she yelled at the knock on the door, not pausing in her furious pacing.

  The tall major stepped inside and stood at attention. "Ma'am?"

  "At ease, Aro. Close the door." When he'd done so, she continued. "Why was Anala sent to Mt. Voco?"

  Surprise registered on his face briefly. "I take it your paths crossed this morning?" Yarrow nodded. "She doesn't know the details herself, Bellica. She told me what she knows -- it has to do with a peace treaty between our nations."

  "Peace treaty! Between Zardria and Exsil Vis, you mean."

  He nodded carefully. Yarrow's anger was palpable, a thick tension in the room.

  "Why alone?"

  Aro's face stayed neutral, but Yarrow caught the brief flash of pain in his eyes, and remembered his battle skill was rivalled only by his devotion to Anala.

  "The Empreena's reason was to show good faith. She also assumed any trouble could be handled by Anala alone."

  "It's a deathtrap."

  "I said as much myself."

  They fell silent. Until this moment, Yarrow had not realised how much she cared for Anala. There was not more trust than was needed for their relative career positions, but that was usual these days. Yarrow just had assumed that care and trust went hand in hand. It seemed that they didn't.

  She sank down onto her bed slowly. Head in hands, she felt tears sting her eyes and willed them away. If it killed her, she would not cry in front of Aro. She breathed in sharply and looked up. Aro had not moved from his position.

  "Do you want a drink?" she asked plaintively.

  "You keep alcohol in here?"

  "Reserved for such occasions." She got down on the floor and felt for the loose panel of wood. Pulling it up, she was pleased to note her store of Pyra's Breath was untouched.

  "You do know it is not yet noon, right?" Aro said as she poured a glass for him.

  She took a swig from the bottle. "Good thing I'm not working today."

  He nodded in assent and raised his glass in the air. "To Anala's safe return."

  She repeated the toast, and they drank, Aro downing his glass in one. Yarrow had two more swigs, and put the bottle away half-full.

  Handing her the glass, Aro looked down at where she sat on the floor, a bemused expression on his face. "I did not realise you cared so for Anala."

  Flashes of memory stole across Yarrow's mind -- the beach, the rain, the caves, the fight. Voco had changed things. That was a regret. But things can change again. I hope they do.

  Realising Aro was waiting for an answer, she forced a wan smile on her face. "Neither did I," she said.

  Satisfied, he nodded and headed for the door.

  Belatedly she realised she'd forgotten to ask how their leave had fared. "Aro," she called, but he was already gone.

  Ghia

  Ghia awoke to late afternoon sunlight filtering in through her window. She had not moved from the position in which she'd fallen asleep. She found she could not move now. Every muscle wanted to quit on her -- rather, she wished they would quit, to stop the aching.

  A strange noise from beside her bed made her flick her eyes upwards. Jules reclined in the chair, head tilted back and mouth open. He was snoring.

  She smiled, or tried to. Her facial muscles hurt, too. The sentiment remains. A warm feeling spread over her, though not reaching her muscles, and suffused her whole being with an emotion she lacked words for. Suffice it to say Jules' steadfast loyalty, in staying through the night and otherwise, made her feel good.

  As if alerted by her being conscious again, he awoke, looking around and taking in his surroundings, confusion on his features. His eyes locked with hers and remembrance occurred. He smiled.

  "Good morning, Princess."

  "It's afternoon," she croaked, "and I'm not royalty."

  He shrugged. "If the boot fits...."

  "It doesn't." With a struggle and more than an ounce of pain, she raised herself upon her arms. Stubborn pride made her do it even if her ligaments wouldn't. "Anala and Aro?"

  "Gone, as of last night. I assume Anala's on her way?" It was a question directed at her, she realised slowly. She closed her eyes and reached. Yes, Anala was on the road to Harbourtown. She rode quickly, and Ghia reached into her mind a bit to sense her emotions.

  "Yes, and she's not happy about it."

 
Jules snorted. "I should think not. Do you know why she was sent?"

  "Didn't Aro tell you?"

  "I stopped asking when I learnt she was sent alone."

  She nodded in understanding. Lovers old and new were loathe to separate. Aro's pain was great.

  Briefly Ghia explained Anala's assignment to Jules. His lips curled back into a snarl.

  "Zardria's made a misstep. Anala is well-loved. If she's harmed as a direct result of the Empreena's orders...."

  "What makes you think anyone will know? Anala was sworn to secrecy as to her mission. The fact that Aro knows is a breach of that oath; our knowing will sentence her to death. If we tell others, making it well known among the citizens of Athering, it will mean our heads as well. Our hands are tied."

  Jules made a noise of frustration in his throat. "What about your Magi powers? Can you use those to help her in some way?"

  She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "I already have, Jules. I can do no more -- she's not trained to link up with me. I can only trust that what I left her with will work if she needs it."

  "Will she even know?" He got up and stretched. "I mean, she's human. She can't consciously use what you gave her, whatever it was. Right?"

  Ghia bit her lip and remained silent. Should I tell him? We're not even sure.

  She half-expected Rosa to answer her private thought. When there was silence in her head, she went with her intuition -- or my Magi self. Which is which, I don't know anymore.