The duelist 11, p.11
The Duelist 11, page 11
“It may mean she is confined during the course of her pregnancy, and the child is ‘returned’ to Bodin when it is born,” the osprey-man said. “Or it may mean her pregnancy is terminated.”
“But Vela wants that child,” I said. “That’s… what the hell?”
“It’s a low offense,” Sha-Kane agreed in a grave tone. “To take a wanted child away from their mother. To violate a woman’s body by refusing her the autonomy to choose. But the Order has its mandates, and it cannot allow a Prophetess to have anything anchoring her to the world. Not if they want her to be malleable.”
Bile rose in the back of my throat at the thoroughly horrifying prospect of being the Prophetess. I felt scared for Amaya, who was still publicly thought to be the Prophetess, and for Vel-Rala, who would take Amaya’s fate if we didn’t figure out how to stop the Order soon.
I forced myself to calm down before I could let the panic wash over me too much. We were going to Alem precisely so we could stop the Order from doing that to Amaya, or Vel-Rala, or any number of innocent women in the following decades. We were just tackling the Council first because Sha-Kane and I now had seats, which would make it easier. Not to mention, the Council would probably be reeling over the fact that suddenly their ability to control the Scourge had just vanished.
Until they adjusted to this change, we had the perfect opportunity to strike.
“We’ll stop them,” I said quietly. “Everyone who wants to exploit Aventoll and its people. We’ll stop them.”
“We will,” Sha-Kane agreed firmly, and the pair of us headed back to the entrance hall.
Everyone else had also changed clothes. Horus was in dark clothing similar to the Councilman uniform, only without the cloak and medallion. Sha-Kane handed him the silver crest, and with Anwaar’s help, the falcon-man affixed it to his own chest. The ibex-woman herself was in a flowing evening down with a high collar and no sleeves, made of a pale gold and embroidered with countless tiny beads that sparkled. She’d also decorated her horns by draping beaded threads between them.
Amaya had done the same, and her dress was similar, only it was the same rain color as her eyes. Beside her, Shay’s dress was bright white with a halter neckline and a low back, so her wings were comfortable. On Amaya’s other side, Zoie’s dress was the same midnight blue as her eyes and decorated with silver, and it reminded me of when she and Shay had dressed up as the Day and Night. The gown’s long, gauzy cape-sleeves fell to the floor, and I might have worried she would trip on them if I hadn’t known better.
“I tried to find something that would hide the baby bump,” Amaya said when she caught me looking at Zoie. “I think it would be sensible not to telegraph that your first wife is pregnant.”
“Agreed,” I said with a nod. “You all look gorgeous.”
I didn’t want to do anything that might put Zoie in more danger. The ‘upstart Traveler’ was one thing, but an ‘upstart Traveler’ with kids on the way was a whole new danger, as well as a whole new weakness to exploit. Of course, I knew Zoie could handle herself, but pregnancy was still a massively exhausting process, and even though I knew she valued her independence, I wanted to support her as much as possible.
“I don’t think Nova appreciated having to wear proper clothes, though,” Shay then told me, and I looked over to see Sera was imploring the younger Lakuna woman to stop fussing with her gown. It was dark blue, like Nova’s hair, and was simpler than the others’ dresses, because it lacked additional details like sparkling beads or intricate embroidery.
“As a concubine, Nova would ordinarily dress more simply, anyway,” Amaya explained, and Nova pouted.
“I don’t like this,” she said. “It’s too tight.”
“I’m sorry, Nova,” I said, and I pulled her into a hug. “But it’s necessary if we want to keep safe. We can’t give any reason for Alem to challenge me to a Duel or something.”
“If it helps, you look lovely,” Amaya added when Nova and I parted, and the Lakuna woman gave the oryx-woman a smile as they clasped hands.
The whole Manta then began to shudder as it landed on Alem, and once the shaking had subsided, we all looked at one another.
“Well,” Horus said after a few seconds of silence. “Best get this over with.”
“Agreed,” I said.
I remembered my etiquette lessons from Amaya and extended my right elbow to Zoie, and she wrapped her hands around it obediently. Ordinarily, she would have taken my left elbow, since I was right-handed, but since my left side was covered by the cloak, and a Duelist was expected to wear a weapon on his non-dominant side, she took my right. Behind me, Shay and Amaya linked elbows, and Nova clasped her hands in such a demure posture that I had to laugh. She’d been timid, on occasion, and shy, but never demure. The Lakuna woman was opinionated and fierce, and I just hoped that she wouldn’t get too tired of the ‘submissive’ act until we were safely behind closed doors again.
Anwaar, as Horus’ wife, took his left elbow, and I was momentarily baffled when I saw Sha-Kane extend his right arm toward Sera. But, seeing as it was ‘in poor taste’ for a Councilman to be traveling around with an ‘unclaimed’ woman, and Sera was very clearly of Sha-Kane’s generation, rather than Horus and mine, it was the logical choice.
“Here goes nothing,” I muttered to Zoie, and our procession, led by Sha-Kane, walked out of the Manta and out onto the shore.
I was surprised to see a couple of guards had already swarmed around the Manta when we walked out, but seeing as it was an unfamiliar vessel, and we’d given no heads-up to our arrival, I suppose that was to be expected. I did notice how some of the guards closest to us backed off a little when they saw the familiar black and silver colors of Councilmen.
“Gentlemen,” Sha-Kane said in his booming Official Business voice. “Is there a problem?”
“C-Councilman Sha-Kane!” one of the guards stammered, and he hurriedly rearranged into a salute. “We-- we had received no word of your impending return! Forgive us!”
“No forgiveness needed, my good man,” Sha-Kane assured him. “We’ll just be heading up to the Council Hall, thank you.”
“Ah, begging your pardon, Councilman,” one of the other guards said, and I noticed from his slightly fancier uniform that he must have been the captain of this group. “But I’m afraid we cannot allow that.”
“Oh?” Sha-Kane asked in a mild tone. He had an uncanny knack for coming across as almost threateningly pleasant. “And why is that?”
“New procedure,” the captain of the guard answered. “The Council is currently on high alert. They claim there is a dangerous criminal currently on the loose, one who can change his appearance at will.”
I braced myself for the inevitable accusation that I was Krev or Kavo Alda in disguise, since the rumor had been spreading around Aventoll recently. It had been the reason I’d been able to trick the insane Rogue mage Aiken, and the pirate Luhrmann, into working with me, before Horus and I had killed them.
But instead, the captain of the guard stood up straight before Sha-Kane.
“For that reason, Councilman, we have instructions to escort you to the Council Hall. Once your identity has been vetted, you will be given free run of the Island, as is befitting of a man of your status.”
“Hm.” Sha-Kane hummed like he was debating throwing an entitled-jackass tantrum, but instead he just nodded. “Understandable, I suppose. You cannot be too safe.”
“We will also need identifications for your… entourage,” the captain said, and I noticed how his gaze lingered on Sera, Nova, and myself in particular.
“Ah, very well,” Sha-Kane sighed like it was a great inconvenience, and I saw how it put the guards on just a little more of an edge.
I found myself taking meticulous mental notes, because the subtleties of the osprey-man’s manipulation were fascinating. His status and reputation did most of the work, so he only needed to give slight nudges.
“This is my wife, Sera-Kane of the Lakuna,” Sha-Kane said, and he patted Sera’s arm. To Sera’s credit, she didn’t look in the slightest bit surprised, but I supposed that after eleven seasons of being locked up, she would have learned a good poker face. “And these are Asher Alex Brightwood and Asher Horus Doler.”
The captain of the guard flinched a little when Sha-Kane announced me, but to the man’s credit, his overall composure remained rigid.
“And with Alex are his wives: Zoie Brightwood of Vartha, Shale-Lea Brightwood of Nata, and Amaya Mec-Brightwood of Alem. And his concubine.”
I noticed how the osprey-man didn’t actually name Nova, and I felt slightly uncomfortable. Zoie looked at me with a similarly uncomfortable look, and I made a mental note to shower the Lakuna woman with conciliatory affection later.
“And Horus’ wife, Anwaar Mec-Doler,” Sha-Kane finished.
I remembered from Amaya’s etiquette lessons that last name hyphenations weren’t just a matter of choice, like back on Earth. If a woman’s blood family was considered important, then her name was hyphenated with her husband’s name to preserve her status. In some cases, the woman might even keep her surname entirely, if the husband’s status was much lower than her own, but according to Amaya, marriages like that were nearly unheard of.
“Mec?” the captain of the guard repeated, and he looked at Anwaar and Amaya with a little more nervousness in his expression. “Forgive me, madams, but are you the sisters of Gavlain Mec? The legendary augur-mages?”
“We are,” Anwaar said in her serene, gracious way, and she inclined her head slightly as if to thank the guard for his recognition. “And we are tired from the long journey. May you escort us to the Council Hall so our men may conduct their business?”
“Of-- of course!” the captain said hurriedly, and he quickly waved the other guards into formation.
They rearranged in a sort of rectangle around us and, impressively, matched Sha-Kane’s pace immediately. We moved as if we were one creature with fifty legs and marched up the beach toward the town limits.
“We’re a little way up from the main port of Alem,” Amaya said from behind me, where she and Shay walked with still-linked arms. “The dock is enormous because there’s so much trade there, it had to be built a small distance away from here.”
“And ‘here’ is?” I asked. I wasn’t sure if the guards to my immediate left could hear me, because their armor clanked a lot as they moved, but if they could hear our conversation, they remained completely blank-faced.
“Medea,” the oryx-woman answered. “The capital city of Alem and one of the largest cities in all of Aventoll. Named for Mercedes, of course.”
“Of course,” I said with a nod, and I looked up at the high stone walls that surrounded the city limits.
There was a huge pair of wooden doors in the wall, which would obviously be our entry to the city, and through the gap I could already see bustling streets and crowds of people. I was suddenly glad for the ring of guards around us, because I was sure our group would have become separated without it.
I had no illusions about why the guards were really with us, though. It was less a protection guard than a group of wardens. Either they knew Sha-Kane was a bit of a renegade, or they’d been told by the Council to look out for the ‘upstart Traveler’ in case he ever came to Alem. Possibly both.
As we entered the city of Medea itself, I took note of how different it was to all the other Islands I’d seen. Om was a verdant jungle, Eng had its desert surface with the cities hidden in huge canyons, and Nata was filled with small villages and modest squares.
Medea, however, was a proper city. It was how Victorian-era London had always looked in period movies, with colorful storefronts and buildings all squashed together in tall, narrow rows, only it was populated by Aventollians. They dressed in floor-length gowns and smart coats and even posh little hats, and they wove their way through the cobbled streets with only passing glances at our procession.
“Every Island is so different,” I murmured to Zoie as we walked. “It’s like a new world every time.”
“I would love for you to see Vartha one day,” the cat-woman replied. “There are huge marble deposits on the Island, so there are many quarries. Women that don’t become trained warriors usually go to work in them.”
“Hopefully, I will,” I told her. At the mention of marble, I had begun picturing things like pillars and domes, an Island that looked like Ancient Greece or Rome. “Our children should see the Island their mother came from, don’t you think?”
Zoie grinned at me and squeezed my elbow a little tighter, and I was momentarily seized by the urge to kiss her, except I knew from Amaya’s lessons that public displays of affection were big no-nos, so I turned my attention back to the crowd around us.
Something about them was a little strange, and it wasn’t how they were dressed. It nagged at me, but I couldn’t precisely say what it was, until I saw a young child with antlers being comforted by her mother, who was Varthan, like Zoie.
There were a lot of non-Alemic people here. Like, a lot. Like, only a small fraction of the people I could see had the characteristic horns of the Alemic people, or the antlers of the Elaphin people.
It was strange to see such an eclectic mix of Aventollians. While Nata had been fairly multicultural, I’d still only seen a handful of non-Natavians, but I knew that was mostly because it was the second-most-populous Island in Aventoll. Terr and Om, however, had been populated exclusively with locals.
“The Duelists wear their Stones outside their clothing here,” Zoie then said, and I saw she was looking past me with a slight frown.
I turned to see an Alemic man with his Duelist Stone displayed prominently over his jacket-- the chain the Stone hung on had been tucked under the collar of his dark blue jacket, like it was a mayoral chain or something.
“Is that… bad?” I asked the cat-woman, and she shrugged.
“Not bad, just… different, a little odd, perhaps,” she answered. “When I was a child, I was taught Ashers wore their Stones under their clothing, to keep them-- and Mercedes-- close to their hearts. And when I came to Nata, I saw the same practice. I suppose it’s just different here.”
Honestly, I preferred the Varthan and Natavian way of doing things, because wearing a Duelist Stone over my clothes seemed a little too attention-whore-y. Luckily, because I was in the black uniform of a Councilman, it didn’t look like I needed to do that, and Sha-Kane hadn’t told me to do it, so I was probably fine.
Eventually, our procession came to what must have been the heart of Medea, or close to it. A curving wall of flawless white marble blocked our path, and elegantly wrought gates showed a huge domed building through the metal bars. Above the gates, in the same wrought metal, were the words By Mercedes’ Favor, By Aventoll’s Need.
I’d never thought the Duelists or the Council would have a motto before, and while it was definitely a good motto, I couldn’t help but think the Council hadn’t really kept to the spirit of those words in recent generations.
“Thank you for the escort, gentlemen,” Sha-Kane then said to the guards, and he pushed open the gates with ease.
Somehow, I just knew if a non-Councilman had attempted to do that, the metal wouldn’t have budged an inch.
“You are most welcome, Councilman Sha-Kane,” the captain of the guard said as he gave a deep bow. “You honor us with your gratitude.”
“See to it that our ship is not ransacked or impounded,” the osprey-man added with an almost careless wave of his hand, and he walked through the gates, which left the rest of us to follow.
There was a lush garden on the other side of the gates, between the walls and the domed building that must have been the Council Hall. A path of white, chalky gravel cut a straight line through the bright green grass dotted with pretty shrubs and flowering trees, but it bisected into a perfect circle around an enormous fountain with a highly stylized statue of white marble. It vaguely resembled a woman holding a sphere aloft.
“Mercedes with the Sun, I presume?” I said to no one in particular.
“That’s meant to be Bhraya, I think,” Zoie told me, and she pointed to the sphere, which was made of either crystal or glass that had been swirled together in multiple shades of blue. The water of the fountain flowed out of the top of the sphere and sprayed down into the white marble basin. “The comet that blessed the original sixty-four with their Asher abilities by showering its light over Aventoll. It was always described as blue to me.”
“It is meant to be Mercedes with Bhraya, yes.” Sha-Kane nodded. “But here, you would be wise to refer to them as the Sacred Sixty-Four. Offenses are easily made to the Council, and we don’t want another Duel if we can avoid it.”
“Agreed,” I said firmly. “Sacred Sixty-Four it is.”
We went around the fountain and came to the actual entrance of the domed building, and I was struck by the sheer amount of white marble everywhere. Vartha’s quarries must have made a killing when this place had first been built.
There were two more guards posted either side of the entrance, who had been hidden by the fountain statue earlier. Their uniforms were a little fancier than the guards who’d accompanied us from the shore, and their spears seemed mostly decorative, even if they were still razor sharp.
“Councilman Sha-Kane,” one of the guards said when we approached. “We didn’t know you were returning to Alem. Welcome back.”
“Thank you,” the osprey-man said with a smile. “Have things changed since I was last here, or is the Council still in session?”
“It is, sir,” the other guard told him. “Sixty-two are currently present for the monthly review. But I’m sure Mercedes will appreciate having a full Council on Alem once more. It is not meant to be split across several Islands.”
I patently disagreed with this statement, seeing as the rich and powerful isolating themselves only led to further and more extreme inequality-- for example, the Upper and Lower Echelons of Terr. But I wasn’t here to pick fights with guards, so I kept my mouth shut and walked in behind Sha-Kane. If either of the guards had anything to say about me, or that I was in a Councilman’s uniform, they kept it to themselves.
