by T.M. Nielsen
***
Finn and Alric turned when everyone in the ballroom fell silent. Kyrin had just entered with her arm in a sling and her flail on her left side. The people from Valhara had heard about the fight and were starting to wonder about her being an evil. While no true evil had existed in over 100 years, rumors still held them in grips of fear.
She ignored the glances and how the people moved back when she came closer.
Alric watched her. “How is your arm?”
“He’s making me wear this,” she said, looking down at the sling.
“If you’d let me heal your arm, you wouldn’t need it.”
“I’m fine.”
He nodded, and then sighed. “Were you in the orchard this morning?”
She froze and her eyes grew wide. “Yes.”
“I said she could have the apples,” Finn told him.
“I’m not worried about the apples. Did you threaten children playing there?”
Kyrin smiled and relaxed. “Yes, and you’re welcome.”
“Why did you threaten to remove their heads?”
“The vile little beasts were playing.”
A soft murmur ran through the crowd.
“Children are allowed to play in the city orchards,” he told her, “and they aren’t vile beasts.”
Her brow furrowed. “You allow them to run free?”
“They’re children.”
“They’re repulsive, and an embarrassment that should be hidden.”
“Just those children or all children?” Alric asked her. He knew Sithias would be quite interested in this new development.
“The whole idea of children.”
“Sire,” Trox called out to them. They all turned and watched him walk up. He had a natural presence that demanded respect. Kyrin figured he’s the oldest person she’d ever met, and his eyes held wisdom and understanding beyond her comprehension.
“Is there a problem?” Alric asked him.
“Yes, may we speak in private?”
“Sure, let’s go to my office.”
Trox and Alric left, and the others resumed their decorating. Kyrin walked over to stand beside Finn, so she wasn’t in the way of workers.
“So what are they preparing for?” she asked after a few minutes of silence.
“A wedding.”
“Alric and Genessa?”
“No, it’s two folks from the city, but Alric is performing the ceremony.”
She nodded and watched as flowers were brought in. “Why the decorations then?”
“I told you. It’s a wedding,” Finn said, and turned to her. He wondered at the curious look on her face but was still feeling the effects from the fight and didn’t want to chat with her.
They watched as decorations were finished and guests began to arrive.
Finn finally looked down at Kyrin. “I’m going to go get ready. You might as well go change.”
“Into what?” she asked.
“I would assume into a dress.”
“Why?”
“Do you know what a wedding is?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m very much aware of what it is.”
“Well, in Valhara, we dress up for it.”
“I’m dressed more than adequately for a wedding,” she said, irritated. He looked down at her blood-red tunic and pants, and then shook his head and left to get ready.
Kyrin watched as more and more people began to arrive. When one young man from the town smiled at her and started toward her, she backed into a shadow away from him. He frowned slightly and then moved off to talk to a man at the other end of the room.
It was obvious when the bride and groom arrived, and Kyrin couldn’t help but glare at him. He looked happy and pleased with his choice of brides, but Kyrin noticed that his bride seemed nervous and on the verge of tears.
Kyrin looked around to see who was going to help the bride. When Alric appeared, he was wearing a deep purple tunic that fell to his knees. He also wore a golden sash, and medals lined his left side. No one was helping the bride, and Kyrin watched carefully as Alric started to make his way to the front. When the people saw him, they began to sit down to get ready for the wedding.
She started to panic, and she couldn’t sit by while no one helped the bride. Once the bride and groom took their places at the front of the room, Kyrin maneuvered quickly to the front. The people fell silent as they watched her, and Alric moved quicker to get to them. He caught Finn’s eye, and Finn was also trying to get to them.
Kyrin moved up to the bride and whispered to her, “Here, take this.”
The bride looked down at the tiny vial in Kyrin’s hand and then took it and smiled. “Thank you.”
“You better hurry,” Kyrin said, glaring icily at the groom.
“Drink it?” the bride asked.
“Yes”
“What is it?” she asked, pulling the stopper out of the top.
“It’s okay. It’s not a painful death. It’ll be quick.”
Alric heard the last part and quickly took the tiny vial from the bride as Finn pulled Kyrin away from her. The bride was now in the groom’s arms while he snarled at Kyrin.
“What are you doing?!” Alric yelled, looking down at the harmless looking vial of clear liquid.
“She doesn’t have a mercy killer!” Kyrin said angrily. “So I’m helping her.”
“You tried to kill her.”
“So?”
“Get her out of here,” Alric ordered Finn. Finn nodded and pulled Kyrin from the room amid gasps and whispers from the audience.
Finn pushed her roughly into her room and then followed her in and slammed the door behind him. “Why would you try to kill the bride?!”
Kyrin calmly sat down. “I was doing her a favor.”
“By killing her?”
“Yes”
“How is that a favor?”
“I realize that as a man you aren’t aware of this, but death is favorable to being the property of a man.”
“Do what?” he asked in a whisper. He’d never heard anything like that, and it concerned him how casually she spoke about it.
“I know what marriage is. You’re given to a man, so he can beat you and do what he wants with you. I’ve heard the stories of how all a man wants it to shove a baby into you.”
Finn didn’t know what to say, so he just watched her.
“Then for nine months, you get to hide in shame, too disgraced to so much as show your face to anyone. The man gets off easy. His deed isn’t known to others, but the gods punish the woman by displaying her humiliation. Then when the baby comes, you have to give it away before anyone finds out you even have it.”
He could hardly breathe as what she said began to sink in.
Kyrin reached over and pulled another small vial from her pack. “I was simply acting as her mercy killer, because I didn’t see as though she had one.”
“How many of those do you have?”
“I have seven left, but I can make more.”
“You carry poisons?”
“Some”
With the final proof Finn needed that Kyrin was an evil, he backed out of the room and locked the door from the outside. He called in two more knights to watch her door, and then left to talk to Trox.
Kyrin wasn’t surprised that she was locked in her room. She was surprised she hadn’t been beaten first though. Mercy killing a bride was frowned on by men. It was invented by women and passed on by women to offer an easy out for women about to be bound as the property of the husband.
Knowing that Finn would be back to take her small stash of poisons, she carefully hid them deep inside the mattress. She could make them most of the time. It’s one of the things Creteloc had shown her. The problem was, she wasn’t born a rogue, so the poisons sometimes didn’t turn out well and could often have the opposite effect. These poisons were made by Creteloc though, so she had to hide them to keep them safe.
Once
she was sure the poisons were safe, she sat down to re-wrap the handle on her flail. She carefully unwrapped it and then began the meticulous process of re-wrapping it tightly. Proper weapon care was ingrained in her from youth, and she knew that she had to keep good care of it if it was to save her life.
When night came and no one came to punish her, she spread out her blanket on the floor and was soon asleep.
