The shouting echoed around the Square.
'Silence,' squawked the guard but no one listened.
The pimple-covered guard hurtled towards the Old Man Tree. Half way across the Square, he dropped on to his hands and knees. His body twitched and jolted. He lifted his head and puke surged from his mouth.
Gala and Jadzia exchanged frowns.
'Now!' yelled Agata.
'But... the red death?' Gala blurted.
'This is the sign.'
'There is one left, m'Lady.' Sira said.
But Agata didn't wait. She sprinted towards the pen, delighting in the ease of movement a man's hose and surcoat afforded. It reminded her of her childhood days running through her father's fields.
'Calm down. All of you.' The young guard with the large ears shouted, darting left and right in front of the panicked Allotment women, his pike firmly gripped in his skinny hand. 'Calm down.' But even he seemed unconvinced by his own words.
Agata reached the gate first.
'Open the gate,' Agata said, her voice firm.
Sira and Jadzia picked up the fallen guards' pikes.
'Who are you? I have orders...' he squinted in the torchlight, his brow furrowing. 'Wait? You're women?'
'Step aside.' Agata drew to her full height. 'Sira?'
Sira thrust the pike into his face.
'Wasp Women.' He recoiled.
Gala narrowed her eyes. 'What did he say?'
Agata gulped. She'd heard exactly what he'd said. Where did he get such an idea?
Chapter Fifty
I woke as morning crept into the laneway, a grey dim light that bleached away all colours. Huddled beside me in a ball, my fellow Cousin's face was a mess of crusted blood. I presumed mine was similar and I shivered, wondering how we had managed to sleep in a bed of snow. Grabbing at my ribs, I moaned as I tried to stand. I roused my companion, helped him to his feet and we hobbled through the streets to the gates of Meeraq. We did not stop for anything, not even water. I even left my copy of the Teachings behind in the room. As we started our journey South, my heart was as bruised as my face. We were but a few miles out of Meeraq when we heard the thundering of hooves and my heart bolted.
'Quick,' the Cousin said. 'They are coming to finish us off.'
We ran but our feet, unaccustomed to the icy road, slid and slipped. The Akull Clansmen closed in on us swiftly.
'The Father will protect us,' I said. 'The Father will protect us.'
Three horses surrounded us in a flurry of snow. I looked into the white smiles of the Queen's guards, my knees trembling. A fourth horse pulled up, ridden by the Queen herself. My heart stalled.
'Father men. You leave without saying goodbye? This is not the way in the land of the Akull.'
'Apologies, Queen Magnilla.' I bowed my head. 'I thought you wanted rid of us.'
She waved her hand. 'My guards tell me there was another incident. Last night. After you left my quarters.' Her eyes scoured my face.
'We ran into a disagreement.'
'Thugs!' said the other Cousin.
'I wanted to apologise for them. They have been rounded up and will be punished for disgracing our clan.'
I shuffled back a step.
She smiled. 'You think this strange?'
'Nobles do not often ask forgiveness,' I said.
'Queens and kings are as flawed as anyone. My people's behaviour was wrong. I do not want you to leave my land with this taste in your mouth.' Her silver eyes sparkled under her white lashes. 'We are warriors but we do not treat guests with such dishonour.'
'I thank you for your apology, Queen.'
'You and I may disagree, but we are the same. Every person deserves respect, regardless. I do not believe in your man in the sky and I do not control your thoughts. Nor should I. You are free to think as you please, as long as you do not hurt others.'
I nodded, her words spinning in my head.
'Good travels, Father men.'
With a cry, she slapped her horse and galloped away, kicking up clouds of white powder.
The Cousin and I were left open-mouthed. An Akull man on horseback tossed a satchel onto the ice. We stood, watching them disappear into the distance. I opened the bag to find dried meat and water, provisions for our journey. I threw it over my shoulder and we continued our trek home, so many miles away. On the long trip South, I had much time to think. The all-seeing Father would understand how we tried to share his word. I only hoped that my Scion would be as understanding.
Rather than returning triumphant after bringing the light of the Father to the cold North, I came back to Sulun with my head bowed low like a dog. My fellow Cousin left the Fatherhood as soon as we reached the capital. I heard he became a candle maker. But I remained. I kept my oath but no one let me forget my failure. My fellow Cousins ridiculed me daily, openly laughing at my failure to convert a woman. But I pursed my lips, they did not understand the different world of the Akull.
Not all was lost. My Scion awarded me a congregation of sorts. I was placed in charge of the Unwanted, given a chance to redeem myself. I sometimes watched the Unwanted with their dull eyes and broken spirits. I wondered whether any of them could become a Queen. As wise, brave and truly noble as she was. But my answer was always a resounding 'no.' Queen Magnilla was a one-off, a lucky find, a two-yolked egg.
Or was she?
Chapter Fifty-one
Agata swallowed. There was no time to find out how the guard knew about the Wasp Women.
'Open the gate,' she ordered and Jadzia raised her weapon.
With two pikes aimed at his scrawny throat, he lifted the latch with fumbling hands and stepped aside.
'Come on!' Jadzia called, beckoning the women to the open gate. 'You are free to go.'
'Get away from us,' yelled a pock-faced woman, tugging her three children close.
'You'll infect us,' screamed another, her eyes wild. 'Go away.'
'We're here to help you,' said Gala, pulling down her hood to show her face. 'We're not guards. We're women.'
But the captives refused to listen.
'Leave us be,' wailed one woman who crumpled to the cobbles sobbing. 'I don't want to die. Oh Father, please protect us.'
'Come with us.' Jadzia urged as she approached three women with weather-worn faces and plain linen shifts but they screeched and ran in the opposite direction. Two able-bodied women climbed up and over the fence walls, cheering as they hit the ground and bolted away.
Someone threw a boot, the leather sole clocking Sira in the head. Gala threw up her hands. 'Why won't they listen? Why don't they trust us?'
Jadzia shrugged. 'We have a ship!' she yelled.
'Get out of our way.' A woman and her two sons barrelled towards Agata, who was standing at the open gate. They crashed into her with sharp elbows and closed fists, knocking her down. Agata yelped as she landed heavily on the bricks. She cowered as the boys and their mother took turns kicking her. Agata covered her face, flinching and groaning as their boots pounded her again and again.
'Get off her,' Sira yelled and the pain stopped. Agata uncovered her eyes to see the boys and their mother running off into the night.
'My Lady.' Sira pointed as a stream of guards sprinted down the Avenue towards the Square. 'We have to go!'
Jadzia and Gala glanced up, their eyes widening.
'Hurry,' Agata croaked. Sira helped her stumble upright then rushed into the crowd of women who were huddled against the back of the pen. Sira studied each face in the cowering group.
'Let's go.' Jadzia shepherded a flock of women and children towards the gate.
'Did you see a girl with a mark on her face like me?' Sira asked.
The others shook their heads.
'She must be here somewhere,' Sira fussed.
'We cannot force them to come,' Agata said, placing her hand on Sira's shoulder.
'Fools,' Gala sighed.
'Frightened,' Sira mumbled. 'I would be, too.'
Agata turned to t
heir charges with a smile. 'We will take you away from all this.'
'Duchess? Is that you?' said a young buck-toothed girl, her eyes gleaming.
Agata grinned, her finger pressed to her lips. 'Quickly.'
The small group of heroines and fugitives ran to the entrance of the pen. The big-eared guard stood by like a statue, staring at his boots, ignoring the pushing and yelling around him. The other two stricken guards lay flat on the cobbles, moaning but still alive.
'This way,' said Jadzia.
'Stop!' called a voice as the guards entered the Square and ran towards them.
The women and children skirted out of their way and behind the Old Man Tree but its gnarled branches had hidden the approach of another group.
'What is going on here?' asked a familiar voice.
Agata looked up in horror at the bronze tunics and bald heads. Her hood was down, her face fully exposed.
'You?' the Scion said. 'What on earth do you think you are doing?'
'Run,' Agata yelled to the others but she did not move. Agata lifted her chin and waited alongside the Scion. Zavis or the Cousins would never lay a finger on any woman, regardless of class.
Jadzia and Gala side-stepped the bronze-frocked Fatherhood and kept running. Hand in hand with the rescued women, children on their hips and backs, they hurried towards the promise of a new life at the pier.
Sira hesitated, stuck to the spot alongside her mistress.
'Go!' Agata hissed but Sira stood as still as the Old Man Tree, her eyes darting between Agata, the Scion and the runaways.
As the women and children reached the pier's wooden boards, Agata smiled and raised a dark eyebrow at the Scion. But her smile did not last long as pike-waving guards poured from the castle and swiftly headed off the women and children.
'You thought you could outsmart us?' the Scion said.
Agata hoisted her nose high but beneath the surface, her backbone crumbled into dust. In a single moment, heroines had become fools and her courageous ballad turned into the punchline for a bawdy joke.
Seliv closed in, four guards at his side. 'Come with me, my Lady.' His words were awkward rather than authoritative, but there was no surprise on his face.
'Take me to the Duke,' she said, tossing her head.
'Those are not my orders, m'Lady.'
Agata folded her arms. 'And what are your orders?'
'Please, m'Lady.'
Like the Fatherhood, Seliv dared not touch her. Instead, he waved her in the direction of the Avenue. The guards tried to herd Jadzia, Gala and the others back towards the Square and into the pen but the women spat and clawed like cats.
'Secure the gate and call the physician,' Seliv yelled as the poisoned guards gulped down water from skins. Agata released a long thin breath as the pimple-faced guard rose shakily to his feet.
'M'Lady. Come,' Seliv said, this time with a little more iron in his voice. 'You too, Singlewoman.'
Agata straightened and followed willingly with the Scion and Sira close behind her. With each step towards her husband and the castle, her stomach tightened. She'd defied him, plotted against him, embarrassed him in front of his guards, his people, the whole town. What would he say? During their short betrothal, she'd never witnessed the full force of his ire. Would he understand? Would he even listen? She rubbed her forehead, searching for persuasive words.
Deep in his heart, he must realise the Allotment was wrong. He must. He had to.
The guards turned left at the iron gates towards to a door Agata did not recognise.
'Where are you taking me?' Her brow furrowed.
'Where do you think?' said the Scion from behind. 'After what you've done.'
The iron gate screeched open and Seliv led her into a dark moist corridor. 'Put the Singlewoman with the others.'
'Others?' Agata recoiled, a flush of heat rising up her neck. Sira shrugged as they led her away.
'You wait here, m'Lady.'
Seliv rapped on a carved door before sticking his head inside.
'Bring her in.'
Smoothing back her hair, she stepped through the doorway and bracing herself for the blow of his disappointed face. The rescue had nothing to do with him, or them. Her love for him was unchanged. She only hoped he would understand that. Stepping inside the room, her heart dropped like a bird pushed from its nest. Lord Kalin sat alone with his feet on the table and the soles of his boots facing her.
'So it is true,' he said. 'Although I am not entirely surprised.'
'She was trying to free the Allotment women,' the Scion interjected. 'I witnessed their attempted escape.'
'The accusations are piling up, my Lady.'
'Where is my husband?'
'He does not wish to see you.'
'I will go to him myself.' Agata swivelled on her heel towards the door.
'Even if he did want to see you, I would not allow it. I must keep him safe.'
Seliv blocked her exit with his bulky frame.
'I am the Duchess of Ambrovna. I demand to see my husband,' Agata roared. 'Move.'
But Seliv stood like a boulder in her path. 'I cannot, m'Lady,' he said, eyes downturned.
Agata's cheeks blazed. 'Move! I will not tell you again.'
Kalin cocked an eyebrow and Seliv remained in place. Agata gritted her teeth and jabbed her finger into the giant's Square chin. 'Now!'
'Please control yourself,' Kalin said. 'You will not solve anything by getting hysterical,'
'I am not hysterical!' she said with an unintended screech and Kalin smirked.
Agata clenched her fists, slowed her breath and softened her tone. 'I am perfectly calm. Only confused by the situation. If you'd please explain.'
'You will see him. At your trial. The day after the Spawning Festival.'
'Trial? You cannot place me on trial without an Initial Council. What are the charges?'
'Once you have calmed down, I will educate you on the law. Take her to a cell.'
'I don't understand.' She clawed at her hair as the brick walls swirled before her. The mouldy damp smell crawled down her throat, stifling her. 'Let me see him, I can explain.'
Kalin snorted. 'Take her away,' he said as he flicked his hand.
A fat toad-like guard gripped her by the elbow and wrenched her out the door.
'My Lord!' she yelled, her voice bouncing off the slimy-bricked corridor. She wailed, unfamiliar howls pouring from her mouth. 'My Lord!'
'Shut up,' said the guard.
'Gerthorn!' she screamed.
But she knew the Duke, who was sitting four floors above her, would never hear her cries.
Chapter Fifty-two
Froma lost count of the hours in the dungeon with nothing to see but brick walls and the rat, nothing to distract her from her thoughts until a set of keys clunked in the door and Lord Kalin strode in.
'About time,' she smirked, pulling herself upright and smoothing her dress.
'Mistress Plesec.'
Froma studied the Master of the Shield's steely eyes and tight calves and she blushed like a ninny. Her life as a wealthy widow lay before her. A new life without Danis.
'Your trial date has been determined,' he said and she instantly shook away her fancies. She narrowed her eyes.
'You will appear before the Duke the day after tomorrow. Along with the other three accused.'
'A full trial?' She blurted.
Despite her fine clothes, Froma's constitution was strong. Her people were bred for the fields and her bones knew how to survive hardship. But a full trial meant the risk of death. 'You said I could expect leniency if I confessed. I gave you their names. Do I get nothing in return?'
'Mistress Plesec, you disappointed me. You did not tell all. The truth has come out and naturally matters have taken a more serious turn. A full trial is necessary.'
'More serious than murder?' Her eyebrows knitted together as sweat beaded at her hairline. Her mind whirred.
'There is no need to play the innocent. Accusation
s have been made and all four of you will stand trial.'
'I do not follow you, Lord Kalin. Has someone been feeding you lies?' Froma asked, her belly cramping as she felt the situation slipping through her fingers.
'There was a conspiracy to kill the Duke and take over the Duchy,' Kalin said flatly. 'You will have your chance the day after tomorrow.'
'But--'
Kalin stormed out of the cell before she could utter another word. The door clunked behind him.
Froma slammed her fists against the locked door as a chill crept into her heart.
'This is not my fault,' she muttered to herself. She snarled at the blank wall. 'It was them.'
Faces flickered through her mind, Danis, the smug Scion, the Cousins, the pathetic Duke, the vain Duchess, Rabel, the self-righteous Sira, even the useless Irina. They had all driven her to it. All of them. She was the innocent victim here. No one understood her suffering. She should be rewarded, not punished. Where was the Father to protect his children?
A different set of thoughts hissed in her ear. Quiet at first, the voice grew steadily more insistent.
'You got what you deserved.'
'You brought it on yourself.'
'No one cares about you, not now, not ever.'
She remembered familiar laughter. Her father, Danis, her brother, the sneering boys from the muddy streets of Veigur.
'Ugly. Unlovable. Barren.'
The snigger of Lady Reyna. 'Commoner.'
'Be quiet,' She clutched at her hair, crying aloud. 'Leave me alone.'
'Worthless. Useless.'
'You got what you deserve.'
Froma slumped against the wall. 'It is not true,' she said until her voice faded to nothing and only her lips moved, silently repeating. 'It is not true.'
***
'The day after tomorrow,' Kalin said as he left Sira's cell and the guard locked the door behind him. Sira scuttled back into the corner, away from the other two prisoners in the cell, a wizened shirtless old man and a light-fingered boy, or perhaps it was a girl, Sira could not tell. At least they were quiet and kept their hands to themselves.
Women of Wasps and War Page 24
