by Dan O'Brien
Hera, though pleased by the response, felt the weight of the words spoken. She did not agree with such a disgusting practice and hoped that the rumors that the Lordess Ascendant had plans to dissolve the agreement and merge the southern tribes into Pa’ngarin territory were true.
“Well spoken, Rajani. I could not have said it better myself. I will leave our studies here for the night. When we reconvene tomorrow, we will talk about the Selthan Marshes and the tribes that inhabit it. Be prepared to talk at length about their rites and rituals.”
As the children shuffled out the door, Hera shouted after them. “Remember that next week is the beginning of the next building rotation, so class will be held in the Second Domus.”
Hera moved to the lone window and looked down on the streets below, pondering the factuality of the rumors of an attack on Duedonia and the dissolution of the trade agreement. She was a historian and knew quite accurately the probability of history repeating itself. If Scythia had indeed attacked Duedonia, it was merely a feint, not a true thrust toward war. She did not know what the Crimson Throne planned, but she knew it would not benefit Pa’ngarin in the least.
Aurora
Aeschylus lay face down on Aurora’s bed, where she had placed him after arriving at her residence in the Praesto district. The bed’s thick down comforters and silk sheets muffled his shallow breathing. A balmy and viscous salve covered the long gashes on his back where the whip had bitten him.
The heiress’ bedroom was adorned with vases of bright flowers and crawling vines, which stretched up the walls to the chamber’s high ceiling. On the wall opposite the bed was a stone-framed window with its white shades drawn tight. A large chest sat just underneath the window.
Aurora sighed deeply as she paced away from her bed, her feet sinking into the many rugs overlapping one another in no discernible pattern. Her mind was preoccupied with Helius’ fate. Even though her mother had released Helius into her care, she knew that the arrangement would not last long and despaired attending the boy’s hearing before the Council.
Such a hearing would be a circus.
The High Sisters would only reaffirm their own beliefs and manipulate the facts around the attack on Duedonia to present the boy as a danger to the realm, and, perhaps, even remove her guardian from duty. Even though she felt powerless, she still had no deep desire to become a Lordess Ascendant as Dione was.
She simply wanted Aeschylus.
That was all.
A knock at her front door drew her attention from the slumbering guardian and she allowed herself to take her eyes off his matted hair and sweat-drenched face. She turned and left her sleeping chambers, pulling its wooden door behind her until there was only a small crack between it and the door frame. She crossed her wide living chambers, maneuvering around the couches and chairs, all layered in brilliantly colored fabrics drawn taut in places and loose in others. As she passed the couch on which Helius slept soundly, she reached down and brushed his hair away from his face. She smiled and caressed his forehead, envious of his peaceful slumber on her buoyant, pillow-covered couch. The knocking redoubled and Aurora sighed deeply at this intrusion into her peace.
Reaching the door, she opened it irritably.
Athena stood on the other side.
“Lady Athena,” spoke Aurora with a hint of surprise in her voice.
Athena bowed and remained just outside. “Lady Aurora, I did not mean to wake you if I did so. The Lordess wished me to speak to you about your guardian and your tiny charge.”
Moments passed as Aurora looked at the Warden of the South in befuddlement.
Growing increasingly irritated upon the stoop, Athena placed her fists on her hips and fixed a stern gaze on the heiress. “May I come in, Lady Aurora?” she asked tightly.
Looking sheepishly at her Sister of the Dawn, Aurora nodded quickly and gestured for the Magister to enter.
Athena entered and her eyes roamed the apartment, only stopping briefly on the slumbering figure of Helius and the slightly ajar bedroom door. “Your home is simple, heiress. One might even call it bucolic. I cannot say whether it is refreshing to see a woman of your status with such a plain apartment, or painful because you have not yet ascended.”
The truth of the matter was that Aurora’s home was larger than that of any other Maiden of Pa’ngarin, for she was awarded larger living quarters because of her status as the heiress. However, her home was dwarfed by that of the Magister of the Inquisitors, who possessed a sprawling manor in the Praesto that was second in size only to the home of the Lordess, and perhaps the estate of the Minister of War and Warden of the East, Artemis.
“I find that I do not need much space, Athena. I have a garden and a place to sleep. I require nothing else,” replied Aurora as she moved past the couches and ducked into a small kitchen opposite the front door.
As the heiress entered the kitchen, she twisted a knob below an oil lamp to the left of the entrance. A small flame ignited, illuminating the room. Baskets of fruits and vegetables hung beneath the cabinets lining the walls and at the very back of the room, in a small alcove, stood a deep pit and a cast-iron furnace with burners atop it.
“Would you care for some tea, Athena?” spoke Aurora as she opened a cabinet.
“Certainly. Tea sounds like a wonderful idea,” spoke Athena as she crept toward the bedroom door and pushed it open. She peered into the darkness and saw Aeschylus sleeping on his stomach, his body rising and falling in rhythm with his shallow breathing. A dark thought entered her mind, though it was such musings that made her an efficient Magister.
She should kill Aeschylus.
If she stabbed him as he slept, Aurora would worry about him no longer. This thought passed as Aurora poked her head out of the kitchen. “What kind of tea would you like?”
“Whatever is fine with me,” responded Athena with a smile as she closed the bedroom door and turned to face Aurora.
Aurora filled her tea kettle with water and placed it atop the stove while Athena moved into the kitchen. “I imagine these are from your garden,” mused Athena.
“Hmm?” spoke Aurora, turning to face her.
Pointing to the labors of the heiress’ garden, the Magister managed a wry smile. “The vegetables, they are from your garden, no?”
“Indeed. I find that broths and stews are better with fresh ingredients, don’t you?”
Athena smiled again and sat on one of the slender seats at the diminutive oval table located opposite the alcove with the furnace. “I do not do much cooking, Aurora. I prefer to leave that task to my servants. I find it troubling that you have grown rather domestic here.”
Aurora finished preparing the tea leaves and cups and set them on the table. She sat down across from Athena and placed her hands over one another on top of the table. “Troubling? Gardening eases my mind, focuses my attention. Not all of us can deal out justice, Athena.”
The Warden of the South laughed. “You are correct, of course, Aurora. We all do what we all do. You like to meander in the grasses and gardens of this world, while I prefer to wade through the blood and tears of war. I digress. I have come at the behest of the Lordess. She wants me to gain your friendship and trust.”
Aurora was intrigued by the woman’s honesty.
“You are too forthright for such a campaign.”
Athena nodded with a crooked smile. “You are quite right. I do not have an affable temperament. In any case, the Lordess Ascendant is concerned about your relationship with your guardian, and now this child from the West.”
“I know that my mother, as well as many other citizens of the Praesto, has become quite interested in how I keep my guardian. However, I may do as I wish with the people in my household. That is the same courtesy afforded to all citizens of Pa’ngarin.”
“For Ascendants of Pa’ngarin, true.”
Aurora scrunched her nose. “So, this is about my ascension. My mother wishes you to convince me to take Aeschylus’ life so that I may succeed he
r sooner rather than later?”
The whistle of the kettle did not draw the attention of either woman, for they were locked in a staring contest and neither woman wished to be the first to flinch.
“I believe our tea is ready, heiress.”
Rising quickly from the table, Aurora moved to the stove and grabbed a thick pot holder. She lifted the kettle and brought it to the table, then poured steaming water into their cups before setting the kettle on a circular, stone slab beside the cups. Aurora sat down and slid Athena’s cup toward her.
“It is quite hot. I would not wish to see you burn your tongue.”
Athena smiled as she lifted the cup, steam rising and curling from its surface. “Your consideration is most appreciated, heiress.”
Aurora lifted her cup in both of her hands. “Athena, you have always been a friend to me even if we do not agree about how Pa’ngarin should be governed, or how we should treat the men of our society. This order to convince me to take the life of the guardian sworn to protect my life seems a bit ridiculous.”
The Warden of the South blew on her tea evenly before taking a sip. “The Lordess does not wish you to bed your guardian, Aurora. Aeschylus is valuable to the Throne. He is both powerful and wise, attributes that are a rarity among his sex. Dione only wishes you to think past your lust to the future.”
Aurora set her cup on the table and looked toward her bedchambers. Was she being selfish? Were her thoughts so clouded that she could not see the importance of her ascension? “What then would my mother have me do?”
“Dione wishes only for you to fulfill your place in our society. If you want to keep Aeschylus as a guardian or slave, you must ascend. A Maiden cannot keep concubinus in her dormitories. Since you do not wish to destroy your guardian, then your only choice is to bed another and receive control of the acritudo.”
Aurora could not fault Athena’s logic.
She was right.
“I understand what I must do, Athena, but I am not ready to accept the cost of my ascension. Another life must be taken so that I may rule others. It does not seem fair.”
The Warden of the South took a long sip of her tea, enjoying the heat as it caressed her face. “Life is not fair, heiress. But you can determine the circumstances of your ascension. You can choose to spare Aeschylus’ life. True, you must take another’s life to ascend, but you can pick someone whose death would not grieve you as your guardian’s would.”
Athena did not like what she was saying. She did not believe the myth that the women of Pa’ngarin get to choose when they ascend, but she would do as her Lordess commanded.
“To take a life….”
“We all must take life from someone or something else, even if it is not by force. However, forcibly taking a life, knowing that your actions will take away all the remaining days of that being’s life, is something else altogether. You cannot fear. You can only act and live with the consequences.”
“What if I cannot act?”
Athena’s smile turned to a hard grimace.
“You will be made to act.”
Aurora pressed her hands into the table and leaned back in her chair as she sighed. “Made to act? How very civilized, pressured and forced into something that is my choice, yet the will of Pa’ngarin must prevail.”
“Would you rather be traded to Scythia when you have not ascended? Become a wife to a stone mason or perhaps a blacksmith? You could birth him seven sons, fat and hairy like all men of the West. You do realize Aeschylus would remain here and become a guardian or a concubinus to another household. There are many women in Pa’ngarin who would want him.”
“You try to goad me into an emotional response. I would have thought you better than that, Athena. I understand his value better than you do. A wife to a Scythian bastard is not the life I seek. I just want to be able to make the decision on my own without interference from my mother or the meddling High Sisters.”
“When you stop acting like a child, then perhaps we will leave you to your own devices. Until then, you must remember your place in our society. You may believe that you are already above the rules of the Maidens, but you would be wrong. Thinking that you have ascended is not the same as living the experience. You act as if you were the only one who has had difficulty with the decision to ascend.”
Aurora stood quickly, knocking over her tea.
She sighed as she watched the slowly spreading puddle drip from the edge of the table. Grabbing a cloth from the counter, she quickly sopped up the tea and crumpled the fabric into a messy pile. “So, I am a child because I will not flippantly take a life as others have? Is that what you are saying, Athena?”
As Athena spoke, her eyes were distant. “You talk as if you are the only one who feels anything at all, that you are so very good and the rest of us are rotten in some way.”
“That is not what…”
Athena raised a hand in warning. “You said what you wished to say, heiress. Now you will shut your mouth and listen,” spoke the Warden of the South irritably.
Aurora sat back into her seat and crossed her hands on her lap.
The Warden continued. “Very good, you do know your place when challenged. When I was still a girl of fourteen, I was forced to ascend. Not by my mother, not by people who cared about me, but by a group of wild men. At the time my mother was very sick and bedridden, and the other children thought I was diseased as well and would not play with me. So, I would go play by myself in the orchards because I liked to pick pomum from the vine, to taste them just as they bloomed.”
The heiress remained stone-faced.
“It was a cloudy day as I walked to my favorite place in the pomum orchards. Goddess Grove is what it used to be called. Though, now it is called the Hollow, and rightfully so. I had made a keep, by digging out a portion of a large tree at the center of the grove. I would go there and sit and feast on the pomum I had picked that day.
Aurora brought her arms closer to her body, embracing and soothing herself. She could see what was coming.
“When I got there I found that I was not alone. There were eight men lounging around my grove. They were wild men of the Brotherhood, the same men who abducted you and demanded equality. They offered me something to drink and some dulcis-panis. I never did get to eat the sweet bread.”
Aurora reached out and touched the Magister’s hand.
“The largest one grabbed me and ripped my sundress. I remember crying then because my mother had made it for me, though, had I known better, I would have waited to cry. Another of the men pressed me to the ground, holding a hand over my face. When he entered me, it felt like he would break my pelvis. He did take long.”
Athena paused and took a sip from her tea. “What they do not tell you is how long it takes to feel the touch of the acritudo once your innocence has been taken. They each took turns, some greedily having seconds and thirds. I was numb by then. Blood had dried on my thighs and my hair was dirty from being pressed into the soil. I used to keep my hair quite long until that day. One of them had taken my hair and tore at it until it was uneven.”
“Athena, I….”
The Warden of the South looked at her darkly and the heiress knew the story was not complete. “As the sun went down, the men did not leave and I was too frightened to move. They talked about what to do with me. Some wanted to cut my throat and throw me in a nearby stream, while another thought it would be fun to take me with them and use me at their whim. It was then that my fright turned into anger, a seething hatred that welled up inside me.”
“I felt a tickle in my toes first and then a soothing river of life and energy seemed to wash over me like the water in the stream I used to play in. The wild men began to cough as I felt a calming voice speak to me in a language I could not understand. Their eyes bled and their skin wilted and their bones shrank as they withered like a desiccating vine. As the men fell to the ground writhing in pain, I turned to a young man, no more than five or six years older than me, who had yet
to feel the worst effects of my ascension. I asked him where he and his people were from. He hesitated at first, but when his friends began to turn to ash, he would not stop talking. He wept and told me his name was Sarius, and that he was from Noveth, a village near the marshes in the South. Sarius said he was quite sorry and pleaded for me to spare him. He seemed to be quite concerned about his standing with his invisible god, I’mann.”
Aurora looked at the Magister quizzically.
“I have never heard of Noveth.”
“Nor should you have, heiress. I did not just want to see the men who had taken my youth drift away into nothingness. I wanted them to suffer. As they roasted in the burning grove, I vowed that I would make all the men of Noveth suffer as I had. When I returned home, I learned my mother had died in her sleep and as I grieved my hatred and thirst for vengeance grew. Not long after, the Lordess Ascendant was made aware of my ascension and she came to visit me. Your mother looked as she does today, still as radiant, still as imposing. I told her what had happened and asked a terrible thing of her. You see, a young Ascendant is not allowed to use the acritudo except to protect Pa’ngarin and her body.”
“You laid waste to a village….”
Athena nodded.
A cruel smile set on her lips. “Dione said she saw great power and potential in me. She said that if I wanted to make an example of the dirt farmers to the South, then I should have my wish. I was allowed this one time to use acritudo as a weapon of vengeance. And that is why you have never heard of Noveth, Aurora. I removed it from existence.”
“Athena, I am sorry for what happened to you, for what it made you become.”
