Votive

by Karen Brooks

  As if conjured by his thoughts, Cristoforo appeared, a female Bond Rider in tow. He looked around and saw Dante, giving him the briefest of nods. The woman shot him a baleful look and whispered something to Cristoforo, who nodded and covered her hand with his own. They seated themselves next to a couple who smiled warmly at them and faced the front.

  Dante resisted the urge to sigh. For the first time in his life, he’d found a place where he was at ease with his choices, deft with the skills he was learning. Only, the community didn’t want him. He studied the render burns on his arms – remnants of his old life, marks of experience or of failure. Back in Serenissima, he was a member of a large family, a trade and a tradition. Apart from his family, it had meant nothing to him. He’d hated being a chandler. Here, despite the coldness of the Riders, he felt he had found his place. This new life and his Bond consumed him – he didn’t care what the others thought. It made no difference to his pledge.

  Pulsing away, deep inside him, was not only his link to Katina, a vague awareness of her presence, her state of mind – which was surprisingly calm – but of Tallow. With every breath he took, every movement he made, every sigh and heartbeat, was Tallow. She burned deep inside him like an unfulfilled urge.

  That was another reason the Riders didn’t speak to him. He had not only rendered their Bonds void until his and Katina’s were fulfilled, but he was not like them. He could discuss his Bond – with Katina. They shared not only this life, but their mutual pledge and that, he gleaned from hints that Debora and Alessandro dropped, kept it strong and meaningful. He’d been in this strange, complex world long enough to recognise how important sharing was. Bonds separated and individualised Riders, but love and sex gave them a chance to reconnect. And reconnect they did. Even now, as they filed in, Dante could identify couples, threesomes, and more. Same sex, opposite; it didn’t matter in this world. God could not condemn a soul if the sinner didn’t possess one. But Dante couldn’t think of these people as sinners. Not now he was one of them.

  The shuffling of feet and the scrape of benches gradually slowed as stragglers entered. The only light, apart from the weak one filtering through the yawning cave mouth, was provided by spluttering candles melting in their wall brackets and in holders on the main table. They smoked badly.

  Moving his feet out of the way so a tall woman could pass, Dante caught sight of Santo. Unaware of Dante’s gaze, he sat with his legs outstretched and his ankles crossed, a barrier that people were forced to negotiate. Dante noted the way he pulled his hair off his face, the care that had gone into his grooming; his shirt opened just so, his boots shined to a high gloss. His face was the same washy colour as those who sat on either side, but his eyes were cold and his chin weak. Scanning everyone who entered, he was clearly on the lookout for his partner. There was something about Santo that plucked at Dante’s memory. He knew Santo was young in Rider terms, that he’d crossed over only about thirty years earlier. He shouldn’t be familiar to him at all … and yet. Santo’s face lit up as another man appeared before him and he quickly drew his legs in and straightened his body with the eagerness of an apprentice welcoming a beloved master. Stefano squeezed into the small gap beside Santo, forcing the people already seated to rearrange themselves on either side. Their heads came together as they whispered, their eyes darting around them before they landed on Dante. Dante looked away, but not before he’d seen their triumphant smiles.

  Finally, hundreds of faces were fixed on the older group behind the table. ‘Are they the Elders?’ whispered Dante. His last word was captured and bounced off the walls – Elders? Elders? Elders? – his intonation casting a question over their authority.

  Dante held his breath. A trickle of sweat carved a passage between his shoulder blades. Already, the air was growing warm, close.

  Alessandro pressed his lips against Dante’s ear. ‘Sì. They’re our Elders, like the Doge’s Council in Serenissima, they’ve kept peace and order here in the Limen ever since the Bond Riders came into being.’ Alessandro glanced around then continued. ‘Here, we’re all senators – whether we’re from a nobile line or not. We all have a say – we’re all kept informed. In the Limen it’s what the popolani think – what we think that counts.’

  Before Dante could challenge this, a shadow filled the cave entrance and, as one, the crowd stood as a thin, ancient man dressed in a gold togati, draped with an ermine cloak and wearing a cone-shaped hat appeared. For just a moment, Dante thought the Doge had left Serenissima and entered the Limen. His heart caught in his throat.

  The old man moved behind the table and took the central seat. As he sat, the other Elders took their places and the Bond Riders, after a suitable interval, followed suit.

  ‘Bring in Katina Maggiore,’ said the man. His voice was clear and deep.

  From a recess in the cave that Dante hadn’t noticed before came two guards. Between them walked Katina. Debora drew her breath in sharply and Alessandro stiffened. Dante wished he hadn’t sat between them, but it was too late to move.

  Neatly groomed with a clean shirt and leggings, Katina looked refreshed. Age appeared to have sloughed away from her. Dante had met her only once, but he’d remembered her as older. Not this tall, relatively unlined woman who stood before the Council. She hadn’t been languishing in a cell as he’d imagined.

  ‘She looks good. They must have been feeding her.’ Debora’s lips barely moved.

  Alessandro gave the barest of nods.

  As Dante understood it, only the sick were fed. Food and drink functioned like restoratives. The air of the Limen was enough. If they were providing Katina with nourishment, surely that was a good sign – it meant they cared about her well-being. That would explain the lilt in Debora’s tone.

  Katina crossed the floor, her head held high. All eyes were upon her yet she glanced straight at Dante, picked him out of the crowd. His heart responded. He felt her, felt the strain beneath the outward show of composure. She gave him the barest of nods. He returned it.

  Debora and Alessandro sat on the edge of the seat.

  The guards brought her to a standstill in front of the wide stone table and left her, retreating to the entrance, their swords still drawn.

  One of the Elders, the one who had ordered Katina’s capture when he first entered the Limen … Nicolotti? rustled some papers. He found what he was looking for and passed it to the Doge-like man.

  After scanning the papers for a couple of minutes, the Elder in gold finally spoke.

  ‘Katina Maggiore.’ He raised deep-set eyes to hers. ‘You have been brought to the palazzo today to hear the judgement of the Council of Elders.’

  ‘Sì, Elder Dandolo. Grazie.’ Katina’s voice was low but firm.

  The head Elder had the same name as the Doge.

  ‘This has not been easy, Katina. You have been a Bond Rider for over three hundred years. You’re one of our oldest, our finest and, furthermore, you’re linked to the prophecy.’

  A dull murmur swept the room. Dante’s ears pricked up. Prophecy? He glanced at Debora and Alessandro, but their eyes were fixed on what was happening in front.

  ‘We’ve never had any reason to doubt your loyalty,’ continued Elder Nicolotti. ‘You have remained true to the Riders’ ways, obeyed all our laws. Until recently.’

  Another round of muttering blew through the room.

  ‘While we can understand that not all the tasks to which we set our Riders will be successful, ‘continued Nicolotti, ‘your recent antics now cast your other, more recent failures in a different light. Was this fiasco a result of bad planning or unforeseen circumstances? Or was it deliberate?’

  A candle spat. Someone coughed.

  ‘You will answer, Katina Maggiore.’

  ‘It was never deliberate, Elder Nicolotti. Never. Things happened that could not be predicted. We were forced to respond to the situation as events arose, to change our plans accordingly.’

  Elder Nicolotti nodded grimly and turned to Elder Dandolo.<
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  ‘So, this changing of plans, Katina Maggiore –’ Elder Dandolo lowered the papers – ‘plans that were clear and agreed upon by all involved in your mission, meant breaking our laws, did they?’

  ‘All I can do is repeat what I said before: it was not preconceived; I did not set out to break them.’

  ‘Who did you discuss this with? Your partners?’ Elder Dandolo indicated Alessandro and Debora. ‘Your team?’ He gestured to where Santo and Stefano sat.

  ‘As I have explained, Elder Dandolo. No-one else was involved. I made the decision myself. I had very little time to act in case the chandler died. Despite what the Estrattore had done, he was not completely healed. Not at the time I was required to make a decision. I did what I thought was best. To me, it was the only viable solution.’

  Nicolotti struck the table. Dante jumped. Dandolo shifted in his chair.

  ‘A solution that undermined our authority but brought you closer to fulfilling your Bond,’ he said darkly.

  Katina lowered her head.

  A female Elder leant over and whispered something to Elder Dandolo. He nodded.

  ‘You also forcibly pledged an unwilling subject –’

  ‘I … I don’t mind. Not now –’ began Dante. Debora clutched his knee and squeezed it hard, hushing him mid-sentence.

  Elder Dandolo frowned. ‘You do not speak unless you are directly addressed, do you understand?’ His words hung like lead in the air. Dante almost bowed under their weight, shrinking back onto the bench.

  ‘Sì, your … your eminence. Mi dispiace.’

  There was a quickly stifled laugh from the assembly.

  Elder Dandolo held Dante’s eyes for a moment longer before resting his gaze upon Katina again.

  ‘Katina Maggiore, our laws are designed to keep us civil, to protect us, not only here within the Limen, but outside its borders. If we allowed every Rider to flout these, whether they believed it was for the best, or because of their Bond, then anarchy would erupt. Do you understand?’

  ‘Sì, Elder Dandolo.’

  ‘While what we ask you to do may not always make sense, it’s because we understand the bigger picture, the greater context. You do not. Therefore, your actions, while seeming to be harmless or helpful, often have the opposite effect.’ He paused to let the words sink in.

  ‘As a consequence, we cannot let this most serious transgression go unpunished.’

  ‘You have left us with no choice, Katina Maggiore, but to make an example of you.’ An Elder sitting at the end of the table with a shock of white hair and grey eyes spoke. His voice was so soft, so grave with sadness that Dante had to strain to hear. ‘We do this so everyone here today understands what it means to be a Bond Rider.’

  Katina lifted her chin. ‘I understand, Elder Maggiore.’ She held his eyes for a beat longer than she had the others.

  Dante looked from the Elder to Katina. They had the same surname. What was their relationship?

  ‘No longer can we be assured of your loyalty, Katina Maggiore,’ said Elder Nicolotti. ‘Not now that you have placed your own Bond above the welfare and Bonds of all other Riders. In renouncing your first Bond with an Obbligare Doppio, you have made us all beholden to you and to his young man.’ He indicated Dante. Dante tried to shrink as he felt all eyes swing towards him. ‘And to your mutual Bond.’

  ‘It is with great sorrow that we have reached a decision,’ said Elder Dandolo. ‘Elder Errizo, would you please stand and read the punishment? Dante Macelleria, you will come forward. Because of what Katina has done this is your punishment as well.’

  Dante’s heart hammered in his chest as he tried to stand. Debora and Alessandro helped him. His legs felt weak. Faces spun in his vision as he stepped over a space created in the bench in front and stumbled across the sandy floor to join Katina. He glanced at her, but her eyes were fixed on Elder Dandolo. She appeared so solid, so stalwart; he would not disappoint her by showing how nervous he was. He drew back his shoulders and stood erect.

  Elder Errizo gathered his robes and came to his feet slowly. Shorter than the other Elders, he nonetheless wore his togati with aplomb, the faded red setting off his dark hair. With a sense of ceremony, he unrolled the yellow piece of parchment and held it in front of him. ‘Katina Maggiore, you are charged with breaking section four eight of the Code of the Bond Riders with the intent to gain personally. You are hereby banished from Settlement –’ There was a gasp. ‘And the Limen.’ Exclamations and cries escaped; there was a hum of anxiety as whispered words were exchanged. Elder Errizo waited until they’d all but stilled. ‘You are not to enter Settlement again until either your Bonds are fulfilled or you die trying.’

  Dante didn’t understand what everyone was so upset about. This was a good outcome, wasn’t it? Katina wasn’t being put to death – he wasn’t being put to death. They were simply to return to Vista Mare – to Serenissima. That meant they could find Tallow, get her away from those who would cause her harm. He knew that somehow Tallow was the key to his Bond, to the one he shared with Katina. Best of all, when they’d done this, they could return. He knew he’d bring Tallow with him. They’d be together again after all.

  ‘There’s one more thing.’ No-one moved. ‘Your partners, Alessandro and Debora, are forbidden from joining you, from crossing the Limen until your sentence is carried out. You will bear this punishment with Dante Macelleria alone.’

  There was a long wail from the back of the cave. The sound was eventually muffled. The Riders began muttering again; their voices rising and falling.

  ‘Silence!’ roared Elder Nicolotti, standing so quickly, the candle in front of him blew out. A finger of dark smoke curled its way towards the ceiling, dividing his face in two. He had to thump the table a few times before everyone finally stopped talking. During the commotion, Elder Errizo sat down and began rolling the parchment with great care.

  ‘Do you have anything to say for yourself, Katina Maggiore? Any last words?’ asked Elder Dandolo.

  Katina looked from one Elder to the other, her eyes lingering on Elder Maggiore. ‘No, Elder Dandolo. I do not.’ There was a catch in her voice.

  ‘Bene. You have fourteen rests to get your affairs in order, to say your farewells, to prepare yourself, then you will leave. In that time, you will be provided with food and water. Is that understood?’

  ‘Sì, Elder Dandolo.’

  Elder Dandolo indicated the other Elders should stand. They climbed to their feet and waited for Elder Dandolo to do the same. As one, they all bowed to the Bond Riders who stood and lowered their heads. The Elders turned and filed out from behind the table, passing through a dark opening and disappearing deep into the mountain.

  Dante turned to Katina as soon as they’d left, questions tripping off his tongue. She shook her head. ‘Not now,’ she said between clenched teeth. Her eyes were glassy.

  With barely a word or glance at Katina, the Bond Riders exited the cave, shaking their heads, holding hands, talking in fraught snatches. A movement in the corner caught Dante’s eye. Only Stefano and Santo remained stationary, the throng being forced to move around them. In the spaces between heads, they nodded towards Katina, their eyes cold, their mouths twisted in sneers. Katina bit her lip. Knowing she’d seen them, they turned and departed.

  Debora and Alessandro waited till only the guards at the entrance remained. They jumped over the benches and ran to Katina, their arms held out. Debora was crying, tears streaming down her face. Katina fell into their embrace. They stood there for a long time, not talking or moving, but Dante could see Katina’s shoulders were shaking. He wanted to comfort her, to offer her something to make her feel better, but he knew he didn’t have the right.

  ‘Look, perhaps I don’t understand what happened, but isn’t that good? I mean, you have to leave here – yes – but only until your Bond, our Bond is fulfilled. That means you can come back – doesn’t it? It’s not goodbye! Why are you so sad?’

  Katina slowly drew away from Alessandro
and Debora. Pale, Alessandro pulled Debora against his chest. Her face was red and puffy; she sniffed loudly. Katina’s state was not much better. She shook her head at Dante, a sad smile on her lips. ‘You’re right – you don’t understand, Dante.’

  ‘Explain it to me then.’

  Katina sighed, a long shuddering sigh that ended with a fresh bout of tears.

  ‘I’m such a fool. I thought, I dared to hope when they fed me, brought me water and vino, that I would be forgiven …’

  ‘Who brought you food?’ asked Alessandro quietly.

  ‘Elder Maggiore. I was so … grateful. It has helped me enormously. I thought …’ She paused and took a deep breath. ‘I now know he knew what the outcome was. They all did. That’s why they waited so long to go to trial. They were giving me a chance, buying me time – not here in Settlement, but for when I am exiled out there.’ She nodded towards the cave mouth.

  Dante swung round and stared. What did she mean? ‘Katina –?’ he began.

  Alessandro started to answer, but Katina placed a finger against his lips. ‘Hush, my love, let me tell him.’ Alessandro bit back what he wanted to say. Debora began to sob. Alessandro drew her even closer, his hand pressed against the back of her head.

  ‘Come, let’s sit on the bench.’ Katina moved towards one of the wooden seats and patted a place next to her. Dante joined her, full of questions. He waited patiently for her to begin. Her eyes strayed miserably towards her partners and she almost lost her ability to speak. She shook her head and stared into space for a moment before beginning.

  ‘Dante, you heard yourself, in Serenissian terms, I am over three hundred years old. There are so many rumours and stories about Bond Riders floating around Vista Mare. Many are true, but most are not. Some think we’re immortal, that surrendering our souls to the pledge stones gives us eternal life – not in the Great Patriarch’s heaven, but here, on earth.’ She made a small sound that was meant to be a laugh but resembled a groan. ‘More like the Limbo that the padres speak of from their pulpits. The truth is, we don’t live forever. We live on borrowed time. Our lives are extended – but only while we remain in the Limen. Each time we return to Vista Mare, what we’ve been given catches up with us. Little by little, we age. The more often we cross the boundary, the quicker it overtakes us, until one day –’ She snapped her fingers. Dante started as the sound echoed in the cave. ‘Our lives end. It is quick. That’s why so many Riders don’t leave anymore; even once they have fulfilled their Bonds. There’s no point if the choice to go back to their old lives, to return to Serenissima, only means eternal death, death without a soul.’ She stood up and stretched her back, hands on hips.