by L. R. W. Lee
I refocused on my eldest. “Your sister told me you were the one who facilitated Alissandra’s… exodus to Wake.”
“Escape, you mean?” Velma corrected.
Was she trying to infuriate me? Surely, she didn’t expect me to dismiss her behavior and let it go unpunished, but to anger me further was unwise, even for her.
“Semantics. So you admit it?” I continued.
“It was the best option in my judgment,” Velma replied.
Matter of fact. No cowering despite what she surely had to know would happen. I respected that.
Alfreda whimpered behind her. “I didn’t want to, Velma. He forced it out of me.”
Her cowering tone got under my skin, and I couldn’t crush a growl. She’d been so strong under my questioning. Now she just sounded pitiful.
Velma didn’t break eye contact with me. “I’m sure he did, sister. I hold no ill will against you. No doubt you held out as long as you could.”
“I must say I am impressed that you discovered a way to send your sister. It’s not common knowledge that it’s possible. There have been a few others who have made the journey, but never in such a fashion.”
Velma tried to hide her surprise at what I revealed, but her eyes grew large before she could school her expression again. Alfreda sucked in a breath and drew a hand to her mouth.
“Why are you telling me this, Father?” Velma asked.
“Can’t I praise my daughter?”
She didn’t speak or break her stare.
“By doing what you did, I’m sure you realize you’ve created a problem for me. Yes, others of the gods have heard about it. Temis, Thena, they’re just the ones I know of, but I’m sure there will be more.”
Velma’s expression didn’t change, but Alfreda’s eyes grew large. At least one of them was sharp enough to understand. Yes, Alfreda’s look told me she remembered my reaction when the regents I’d appointed to oversee the provinces challenged my authority and forced us all into a war—several goaded me over it for eons, calling me weak. I’d vowed never to allow it to happen again. Why oh why did it have to be my own daughter who’d challenged me?
“I am your Father, but perhaps you’ve forgotten I am also your sovereign. Velma, you have been disloyal, treasonous even. Do you know what the punishment for treason is?”
Velma clenched her jaw but made no reply.
How I respected her. If only every member of my family were as strong.
“Before I pronounce sentence, I want you to understand the full depth of what you did in convincing your sister to become mortal, because I’m not sure you do. If you did, I doubt you would have encouraged her.” I took a deep breath. “Velma, to be mortal is to become less. You’ve sentenced your sister to death, but worse, you’ve condemned her to grieve the passing of those she loves.”
Velma shifted her wings.
Yes, she should be uncomfortable. I continued, pressing my point. She needed to understand. “As gods, the only time we are touched by tragedy is when we care for a mortal beyond helping them dream. When we become attached, we expend our energies doing what we must to care for them. It’s our own choice to make, but if we do, it means we are no longer free. And worse than being a parent caring for the welfare of our immortal children, we are brought low and suffer because of their frailty. I should not have to remind you of Dyeus’s grief and lamenting over his son Sarpedon’s death. Or Thetis’s knowledge that her son Chilles’s life would be short and full of grief. She was reduced to groveling and making bargains with others of us gods in desperate attempts to save him. It was hard to watch. What she endured, I would not wish upon anyone, despite her bringing it on herself. She was shortsighted.”
Velma shifted her wings again. “With all due respect, Father, I believe that loving has made Ali stronger and more courageous. Before her current charge, she was naïve and easily swayed. But as she has come to understand how she truly, deeply feels about him, she has taken a stand and will defend him, no matter what. She’s grown in ways I never would have imagined. Yes, she will necessarily endure grief, but she can live fully, completely. Mortals, through their very mortality, have the potential for great nobility. Our lives seem trivial in comparison.”
“You speak so highly of their lesser state, daughter. Do you wish me to send you to Wake? To make you human? Is that what you’re saying?”
Velma’s gaze held for several heartbeats before she looked away.
“I thought as much. Yours are the ideals of a spoiled child who has never experienced any degree of adversity.”
Alfreda shot up, wings flaring. “Velma is not a spoiled child! No doubt she feels she needs to stay to protect us. You act like all you sought was Ali’s good. You tortured her just like you’re torturing me!”
“That’s enough, Alfreda. I will deal with you shortly. Trust me when I tell you, you do not want me addressing your conduct until your sister and I have resolved this issue. Sit down and wait your turn quietly.”
Alfreda glared for several heartbeats but at length she furled her wings once more and reseated herself on the mattress.
“That’s a good girl. At least one of you obeys.”
I returned my focus to Velma. “So now that you understand my perspective, perhaps you can understand the error of your ways.”
Velma clenched her jaw. “We shall have to agree to disagree, Father.”
I nodded. “I see. Very well, then I shall have to effect a punishment that may assist you in reaching my conclusion.”
Alfreda sucked in a breath. I ignored her.
“As your sovereign, I would be well within my rights to have you executed for treason.”
I watched for Velma to react. She did not. She must have steeled herself for this outcome. My pride in how I’d raised her grew.
“But as your father, that would cause me to grieve, exactly what I wish to avoid for it would make me appear even weaker. So, I believe I have a fitting punishment that will also help instruct.” I turned toward the archway. “Morfran!” My bellow echoed through the cave.
“Yes, my liege.” My soldier strode forward and bowed low.
“Have Zagan and Bate join us as well.”
Alfreda tensed visibly. I doubted she could gather her wings any tighter. Velma’s eyes darted between me and the three guards as they appeared.
“Velma, it is up to you how you endure your punishment. You may do it with dignity or without, but my men will ensure it is carried out.”
I turned to Morfran. “Cleave her wings.”
“No! You’re a beast!” Alfreda shouted, rising. “Velma!”
I nodded for Bate to restrain Alfreda, which he did, despite her kicking and flapping.
She was trying my patience. I boomed, “Alfreda, if you cannot control yourself, you will force me to have him shackle you.”
“Sister, don’t resist for my sake. He’s already hurt you enough. He can do whatever he wants to my body, but he will never break me. Never again,” Velma ground out. Alfreda stilled, but tears flowed freely down her cheeks.
With order again restored, I nodded to Morfran.
“Kneel,” he commanded. Then turning to the other guard, he said, “Zagan, hold her down.”
Velma complied without coaxing, kneeling three strides from me. She would take her punishment with dignity. Wise. I expected nothing less.
Zagan forced her forehead to the ground, fully exposing her wings. She didn’t even try to tuck them.
Alfreda whimpered but didn’t fight Bate.
Morfran removed his sword from its sheath. “Extend your wings fully or I won’t be responsible for cutting your back too.”
Velma’s wings trembled as she stretched them wide, their full span. The shaking grew the longer she held them open. They weren’t the largest among my children, but they were certainly noteworthy. I just hoped she learned the lesson I hoped to teach her through this, that becoming less would never make her noble. That notion needed to stop before she led mo
re of my children astray.
I watched her. I didn’t need to see her face to know she hadn’t yet learned the lesson. The vein bulging in her neck told me as much.
Morfran held the blade up and, with one swift motion, brought it down and across the stem of one wing.
Velma let out a muffled cry. Zagan held her head firmly in place.
Alfreda wailed and became a crumpled mess on the mattress behind Bate. She writhed and thrashed as tears streamed freely. I’d lost all respect for her.
Blood flowed as the wing went limp, then fell free.
Morfran brought his sword up again and a heartbeat later an agonized cry was wrenched from Velma. She’d never want to give me the satisfaction of hearing her, but she’d had no choice. She moaned as blood coursed from the other stump and the other wing dropped to the floor.
Zagan stood, and Velma slumped onto her side, onto the severed member that no longer possessed life but remained extended. Bate moved to restrain Alfreda again as she rushed him.
“Let her comfort her sister,” I said, waving him away.
I dismissed my men and watched my children. Alfreda’s tears continued unabated, but she composed herself enough to examine Velma’s stumps. She swiped an arm across her face and, without a word, took to tearing the bottom of her dirty dress into strips.
Velma’s sides heaved, and her face grew wet with tears as her body reacted to the loss. I wouldn’t kid myself that she’d yet learned the lesson. That would only come in time as she had to cope with being less.
“This may hurt a little,” Alfreda whispered to Velma as she began wiping the blood on her skirt. Velma tensed but did not reply—she trembled, from shock probably, but otherwise remained still and balled up as her stumps were wrapped.
I waited patiently. I still needed to address Alfreda’s behavior.
Velma slept on the moss mattress, Alfreda stroking her side when I reasserted myself. I’d been more than patient waiting for the drama to end. It was time to address her behavior.
“Alfreda, come here.”
She scowled, but rose at a slug’s pace and approached me, tucking her wings tightly. With a closer view of her face, the circles under her eyes seemed darker. It was hard to say how long she’d been denied sleep, but the shadows would soon be the color of her raven hair. My troops had certainly followed orders. I’d trained them well.
She stopped within arm’s reach, and I grabbed her chin. I wanted a better view of that bruise on her cheek.
She tried twisting her head out of my grasp, but when that didn’t work, she grabbed my arm and tried to pull away.
“Calm yourself, daughter. I merely want to examine your bruise.”
She stopped struggling but held my arm. Her wings twitched.
I turned her head this way and that. I could guess what had caused it, but I wanted to get her talking. We’d start with something neutral and go from there. “How did this happen?”
“They hit me. I couldn’t stay awake, but they wouldn’t let me rest. My jaw throbbed for a very long time.”
I released her face. “Did they do anything else to you to keep you awake?”
She nodded. “They plucked some of my feathers.”
I looked her wings over. My troops had thinned them but not so much as to cause notice unless one looked for it. And they’d left her flight feathers untouched.
“Anything else?”
She shook her head.
So they hadn’t resorted to stroking her wings… or more. We still had room to go with her.
“You managed to get your charge to locate Ali. Well done.”
Alfreda sighed.
I continued, “Unfortunately, as you know, he’s run off. What do you have to say?”
“I don’t control him! He has free will. He means to protect Ali and his brother from you. I won’t interfere with that. I won’t.”
She was weak and deluded, pure and simple. Her charge was nothing but a sniveling mortal, and he needed to assist me in my cause, desire or not. She’d spent too much time with Velma.
“Oh, but you must, daughter.” I raised my brows to press my point. “You don’t have a choice.”
Alfreda frowned and crossed her arms.
The gesture told me she’d chosen the difficult path. I suppressed my frustration.
I’d located Alissandra in an Astanian border town but lost her again. And now that Alissandra knew I had eyes nearly everywhere, I knew she and that mortal wouldn’t surface again anytime soon—her charge was too smart for that. Mortal he may be, but he had a head for strategy.
“You don’t seem to understand, you will help me. I intend to make an example of Alissandra, so it is imperative I find her. If you force me to, I will be happy to make an example of you first, but I’d like to avoid that if possible. Unless you want me to.”
She glanced at Velma’s sleeping form. “No.” It came out clear and without hesitation.
“I thought you’d see reason. So then, connect me with your charge. You indulge him in his fantasies of free will. I shall help him see reality.”
She gave me a long look before her shoulders slumped and she moved to sit.
“I think not, daughter. There will be no sitting. You need to remain awake.”
She sagged but managed to remain upright as she closed her eyes to envision the dream canopy and connect with her charge. She knew where he was, and I latched on to her mind. She would connect me to him.
In her sleep-deprived state, it took her eons to finally reach her charge, but when she did, I grabbed his thread before she could. I needed to reset his reality. It would no doubt require force, and she would fight me unless I found something to occupy her.
“Alfreda, put your hands above your head and hold them there.”
“But I’m tired,” she whined, rustling her wings.
“I don’t care. Arms up. Now.”
She whimpered but slowly raised her hands.
“No, do not rest them on your head. Up. All the way.”
That would keep her occupied. I could now accomplish what I needed to.
I turned my focus to her human, following his thread into his mind. Darkness held sway all around him except for the light from a small fire, next to which lay a blanket. He licked his fingers as he perched on a log beside the fire. It looked like he dined on pheasant.
His thoughts oozed of sentimental drivel, and I couldn’t help but shake my head—love for his brother and Alissandra, nonsense about protecting both of them, and a charming stretch of romantic pining for her despite feeling unworthy of her love. It was no wonder Alfreda’s thinking was so weak. Between Velma and Alfreda’s charge…
The connection faltered, and I eased back. “Alfreda, put your arms all the way up. Do not make me tell you again.” Her lips trembled. She approached tears, I just hoped she could endure until I reset the man.
I refocused. I couldn’t stand hearing any more of his sentimentality. It was making me sick.
Quiet! You will listen and do as you are told.
The human had the good sense to be still. Progress.
You have run off in an attempt to thwart me. I will not tolerate insubordination. You are my tool, and you will do as I say.
I am no one’s property!
The gall of this human, my anger rose. You do not want to experience my wrath. It is unpleasant, as your sand maiden can attest.
I will not do your bidding.
Correcting this mortal would necessitate more pain than I’d planned, so be it. I had no problem doing what he requested. Too bad Alfreda would experience it too, but he left me no choice. I needed his assistance, and I would not be denied.
I stretched my mental claws into his mind. This was only the second time I’d had to do this with a particularly difficult mortal. I needed to be gentler than with immortals or I’d destroy his mind, fragile as it was—I couldn’t risk thwarting my own designs. I stroked lightly. He screamed in unison with Alfreda’s moan. Bless her heart,
she kept her hands raised. She was mentally weak, but she would obey with enough persuasion.
Are you now prepared to do as I request? I asked.
Never!
I shook my head. Honestly, this was monotonous. What was it with these notions of resistance, mortal and immortal alike? I was a god. Idealistic fools. They couldn’t win. Why did they even try?
Four light brushes later and Alfreda collapsed. I’d pushed her to her limit. She was unresponsive, probably for the best, because I still held her charge’s thread. I would teach him obedience.
I stroked his mind with a bit more force, and he again cried out but still fought me. Damn human. Another brush of my mental claws had him falling off his log perch, clutching his head.
More force, more screaming as my claws caressed his mind a seventh, then eighth time. He’d lose his voice completely at this rate, but he still refused my commands. Arrogant, willful mortal. I found it harder and harder to hold my anger in check.
By the tenth brush, the human writhed on the ground. He so infuriated me with his hubris—he actually thought he could resist me. Crush him like a gnat. The thought flitted about my head, but I resisted, instead taking several deep breaths. I needed him.
Anger turned to amazement as he fought me, despite the agony he endured on the next three passes. He’d been abused, no doubt about it, and he’d learned how to cope with pain.
By the fifteenth brush, his face was wet with tears and he’d pissed himself.
Stop, I beg of you. I’ll do whatever you require, just stop.
I smiled. He’d shown mental toughness, holding out longer than I’d expected. Alfreda could take a lesson from him. He would come in handy.
He was barely conscious—optimal conditions to plant a thought in the deepest recesses of his mind, a thought that even Alfreda would be unaware existed. It would make him useful and guide his actions to the end of his suns, which depending upon how vigilant he became on my behalf, might be sooner than later. No matter, he was mortal and expendable.
