Mire

by Vivien Leanne Saunders

  The honoured guest tried not to smile. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “Lord Mund.” The man bobbed his head like a posturing chicken, and this time Jonas did laugh.

  “I’m not exceptional, but if it gets me new clothes I’m happy to make up some stories. My name is Jonas Gaskell. I’m from a village called Singen.”

  “In Yanget.” Mund supplied. Jonas blinked, and the man waved a vague hand towards the window. “You came over the mountains. You must be from Yanget.”

  “We call it the Mainland.”

  Mund snorted into his drink. “Please. Four hundred miles of cliffs is not a Mainland. It’s barely even a country. Countries are horizontal.”

  Jonas stopped himself from snapping at the man by taking a large swig of coffee. The strong taste made his stomach churn. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  Mund tilted his head to one side curiously. “It is peculiar that I don’t know the customs of your land. I would not be offended if you insulted every field in my county. I had no idea you Yangettis were so proud.”

  “I’m not proud!” Jonas laughed in surprise, and the tension in the air faded. “I’m afraid that if you remember our countries are at war, you’ll lock me away after all!”

  The man frowned and put his cup down. It clinked against the fine silver coffee pot. “War? What do you mean?”

  Jonas looked at him blankly. “The war. We’ve been fighting for years.”

  “Have we?” The man raised his eyebrows and then huffed out an odd sound. Jonas hesitated, and pulled his pink dressing gown a little tighter. He wasn’t sure if the silk flowers or the man’s amused smile was making him feel more defensive.

  “You tried to invade us. You want the Mainland for yourself. There are gold mines, and…”

  “Yes, yes, but this was all ended centuries ago!” Mund sounded impatient now. His round cheeks trembled when he spoke. “The Sires Channel was blocked when the earth shook, and after that we thought you were trapped on your miserable bit of rock! Every ship we sent out to make contact either sank or...” He tailed off and cleared his throat.

  “Or?” Jonas leaned forward a little. “You mean they got caught by the Siren, don’t you?”

  “I told you: I don’t believe in fairy stories.” The man said stiffly. He relented, and picked up his coffee. His hand moved a little slowly but the redness in his cheeks began to fade. “Every so often we find a boson or a cabin boy floating on a scrap of wood. Of course they yammer on about Siren. Their heads are filled with salt and sorrow, and they know that stories about beautiful women will get them a few good meals at every inn they pass.”

  “The Siren are real.”

  Mund laughed uncomfortably and shook his head. “No, boy…”

  “Listen to me. After the channel closed the only way out of the Mainland was past the island. That’s where the Siren built their fortress. I couldn’t get past it any more than your sailors could. They’re witches, vicious, pitiless murderesses. They steal beautiful girls and throw their own sons into the sea. They demand ransoms for their victims, and tributes from every holding for a hundred miles. Their hearts are as cold as ice. I have never met a single person who is not scared of them. They are real!”

  “If they’re so bad, then why don’t you fight them?”

  “We’re too busy fighting you. The Siren keep us safe.”

  Jonas’s whole body shook. He had thought that crossing the mountains was bad enough. If the Altissi thought that there was a safe passage across the sea then the Mainland would be swarming with soldiers within a month.

  “Most of the people here believe in the Siren.” Mund said softly, and reached out to pat Jonas’ trembling hand. “I only said that I don’t. My villagers have little poppets which they lay in salt and honey whenever the moon is full, superstitious fools. If the Siren are real, then they are women and not sorceresses. As I said, mortals can do terrifying, wonderful things. I can be scared of mortals like that, but I will not be cowed by a story. As time creeps on, I hope that many of my countrymen feel the same.”

  Jonas fell silent.

  “What you need to do,” said Mund, “is bring one of them here. Let everybody see your creature and judge for themselves. Because I tell you this, Master Gaskell: Siren are mortal, and mortals make mistakes. Sooner or later, something will have to be done.”

  He rang a bell and one of the giggling women returned. Mund whispered in her ear. The woman gave him an incredulous look before she disappeared. She came back with a heavy cotton bag. Mund gave it to Jonas without looking inside. The younger man opened the satchel and flinched.

  “I don’t want there to be a war.” Mund shrugged and gestured out of the window. “It will spoil the view.”

  Jonas took out a few of the gemstones and felt the points digging into his fingers. They trickled back into the bag like raindrops. The lord patted his shoulder.

  “Go home, lad. Bribe your witches and do whatever else it takes to protect your country. If there’s any money left when it’s over, drink a pitcher of ale for me.”

  Jonas stopped telling me his story then, looking awkwardly around before he cleared his throat. “Can you imagine having so much money that you don’t have to think twice before handing it to a stranger?”

  “Perhaps he trusted you.” I offered. Jonas looked offended at the thought.

  “They have no mountains to fall on them, and no valleys to flood. They don’t have to save their money in case their village is swept away. They cannot lose a life’s savings in one thunderstorm. Seeing them made me realise how pathetic… how worthless…” He cleared his throat and looked arch. “Well, you don’t know anything about poverty. I don’t suppose you’ve seen the Mainland recently.”

  “Whatever gave you that idea?” I retorted sarcastically. He rubbed his temple as if it ached.

  “If I asked you to stop a war and you failed, what would happen to you? You wouldn’t starve. You have guards to defend your body and medicines to heal it. But if you were a peasant your failure would be a death sentence. Your food would be stolen by the army, your lands would lie barren, and if you got hurt you would have no one to help you.”

  “The Altissi could still kill me, or torture me.”

  Jonas smiled crookedly. “You’re less likely to be tortured than a hundred Mainlanders are to starve. Their suffering should matter to you more than your own.”

  “Are you saying that I don’t deserve to be safe?”

  “You are safe. You just imagine that one day you will not be, and pretend that it gives you an excuse to be afraid. The Mainlanders are dying right now. A war would only speed things up for them.”

  I frowned and fiddled with the edge of my sleeve. “What about the peasants in Altissi?”

  “I guess they don’t want to starve either.” Jonas said shortly. I reddened and shook my head. They were starving, and they were poor – but they were still Altissi.

  Jonas sighed and patted my hand. I pulled it away sharply, so he shrugged and returned to his story.

  “When I climbed back over the pass I put on my fine clothes and walked right up to the first castle I saw. I told the whole story to the duke-” he gestured at one of the distant men “- and he told me the truth about this place. I feel like such a fool. I had called Mund a liar. Now I see that he was completely right.”

  “Not completely.”

  “Close enough. You’re not a goddess, you’re… you.”

  “You don’t know what I’ve done to get here.” I murmured, but the words felt as though someone else was saying them. I could never tell him the truth. How could he be so right about us, and yet so utterly wrong?

  “This has worked out nicely.” Jonas grinned, “You’ll come with me, right?”

  I gasped in a lungful of air and shook my head. The wild gesture snapped me out of my daze. “How can you ask me that?”

  “I opened my mouth and words came out. Don’t tell me you’re too scared!”


  I reached back and slapped him, hard. My hand ached; I had never slapped a man before, and his face felt hard and sharp. “No wonder Sweetwater tried to con you! Don’t you know how insulting it is to ask a Siren to… to parade herself like a street whore?”

  He leaned closer, and his eyes were so serious that they looked hollow. “If I walk into their throne room with a whore on my arm they’ll see our people for the charlatans we are. I want to show them a Siren – a real, mystical goddess. Then they’ll think the stories are true. They’ll stay afraid, and our country will be safe.”

  I caught my breath and shook my head. “You cannot seriously want to take me to the Altissi. They’ll kill me. They’ll lock me in a cell and pull out my fingernails and torture me until I beg for death. They’re monsters. Inhuman, violent…”

  “Are they so bad? I hear that many of them wash up here. I notice your fingernails are still attached.” Jonas’s voice had grown icy. He looked at me as if I sickened him. “You haven’t changed at all, have you?”

  “I’m a Siren.” I growled. “I had to change. You abandoned me. You can’t call me a coward when you were the one who ran away.”

  He smiled thinly and ducked his head down in a mummery of a bow. “At least I came back.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Jonas wanted a pet, nothing more. The islanders didn’t even bother hiding their scorn. They laughed in his face when he spoke to them, until his face grew red. Then they turned on their charm and flattered him as if they had been joking. Jonas spent a week growing more frustrated, and his invitations changed from boyish hope into resigned, flat repetition. I stood outside the group and wondered how they could be so cruel. Perhaps they were like that to all outsiders, and I hadn’t noticed until now. Yes, that was it. They treated Jonas like an ignorant, petty creature because that was what Mainlanders were to us.

  Sometimes Jonas saw me standing in the throng, and glared as if the jokes and gibes had all come from me. I wished I could have told him how the Siren bullied me, too. As the years had passed the other women’s jealousy and dislike had made me into an outcast. It was strange to work with other Siren on the pier, and then have those same women throwing apple cores at me in the kitchens.

  I thought, ‘Leaving my sisters won’t hurt me.’ Why did I think that? I wasn’t going to leave!

  I coaxed Jonas out of the crowd and took him to the pier. I hoped the servants would think my friend was another victim to be spoiled, not mocked. They humoured me, but I know they saw through the act. Jonas did, too. He raised his chin and refused to react to their giggles. In the end, I found us a private room in the pleasure wing and told all the servants to leave us alone. My friend and I hadn’t seen each other in years, and even now we couldn’t talk without a hundred ears listening in. I plugged up the spyholes with wax. Jonas locked the door, and then laughed awkwardly.

  “They’ll think we’re… you know.” He gestured to the soft cushions that ringed the small room, making the whole place comfortable and intimate. I blushed – not at the idea, but because he was right. Every woman on the island probably knew already.

  “That’s their problem,” I said stiffly, “It’s not fair that we can’t be alone.”

  “It is strange here,” he agreed, and sat down. His eyes warmed, and he gestured for me to sit beside him. “It’s strange to see you, too, Clay. I always wondered what happened to you.”

  “I missed you.” I blurted out, and threw myself into his arms. He cried out in surprise, and laughed, and patted me awkwardly on the back, and kissed me until I stopped crying.

  Everyone smirked at me when I walked Jonas back to the guest quarters. I avoided their eyes.

  Still, I couldn’t accept my friend’s offer. I was sure that things couldn’t be as dire as he had said. People weren’t starving, or afraid. The noblemen who visited the island hadn’t breathed a word about it. A small voice in my head reminded me that they wouldn’t bother telling us about earth tremors and the pox killing their farmers. It wasn’t like I could ask them for the truth. I was a Siren. I was supposed to know everything.

  Well, why was it my problem? I was a Siren, not a diplomat. What could a cloistered courtesan possibly do?

  My heart skipped a beat.

  I owned enough poison to wipe out an army. If the Altissi wanted to threaten us, they were welcome to try. An army might not stop them, but a woman could slip through an encampment like liquid honey. The thought was too terrible to stomach, and yet my imagination raced ahead. I saw myself smiling at their king, and handing him a glass of wine. I saw the fear on the generals’ faces. They wouldn’t need to believe in our stories if they had a real Siren in their midst.

  What was the difference between Jonas’s toy and a real Siren? The Siren knew how to kill. If things went badly on the Mainland, I would be ready to fight back. My sisters would still be fluttering their eyelashes by the time I had destroyed the kingdom.

  It was an idiotic daydream, and yet it was the lie I needed to push me onto the boat. I sought out Janine, and was about to confess my plan to her when she pulled me into a corner and said,

  “I know.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You… you do?”

  She grinned. “I saw the way you looked at him. I couldn’t believe it when you gave him that feather! It was so sweet!” her eyes narrowed a little. “You’re lucky no-one else saw you.”

  “I’m sure they did.” I leaned back against the wall, feeling suddenly tired. I should have known better. Nobody thought me capable of much more than a sordid tryst. “Do they think I’m going to say yes?”

  “Say it? They think you moaned it in his ear.”

  “Be serious!”

  Janine chewed on her lip. She couldn’t admit that the gossips were already lashing their tongues at me. “If you like him, then…”

  “I don’t!” I burst out too quickly. I bit down my anger and tried to explain. “I think I should help him. He saved my life.” I told her the story of how he had swum with me out of the caves.

  Janine eyed me coolly. “It sounds like it was his fault you were in the caves to begin with.”

  “No, we…”

  “I don’t like it.” My friend shook her head. “You’re talking about him as if he’s the same little boy who played with you when you were a child. He’s not. I don’t see why you think you owe him.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then why are you leaving the island?”

  I fell silent. I couldn’t explain it, because I didn’t know the answer myself. Janine’s smile thinned, and she patted me on the shoulder before she straightened up. My heart sank. If my only friend thought that I was in love with Jonas, then everybody else would be certain of it. I couldn’t bear the thought of staying on the island with that rumour following me around.

  Oh, Clay, did you cry yourself to sleep again?

  Mistress Clay might not want this victim. He looks too much like her lover!

  Well, then. I was going to leave. I had no reason to go other than my pride, but that was enough.

  Jonas smiled when I told him my decision. It was a smug expression which told me that he had been expecting it all along. I bit back my fierce words, marched him to the tower and watched him tell the High Mistress that he had chosen his toy.

  “You want Clay?” Sweetwater huffed out a dusty laugh. The dried her out like a walnut shell, but her mind was as cruel as ever. “Well, she’ll wear them out if nothing else.”

  I reddened and looked down at my feet. I wasn’t ashamed of my reputation, but I hated hearing it crowed in Sweetwater’s foul voice. Jonas did not bother to ask what the woman meant.

  “Clay and I grew up in the same village.” Jonas conveniently forgot to mention that I had lived there for less than a year. “I know that I can trust her.”

  “All of my girls are trustworthy.” Sweetwater interrupted him with a fierce, motherly cast to her face. Jonas flushed and stumbled over his carefully rehearsed words. I started enjoying mysel
f. For all of my friend’s bravado, he crumbled as quickly as the greenest apprentice. The hag’s next few words made all the fun bleed away in an instant.

  “You can’t sleep with her. She’ll probably ask you to – hell, you two probably already did - but once you leave the island I forbid it. If a Siren is outside of my lands I can at least make sure she conducts herself properly.” She leered at us both and added, “Feel free to screw each other senseless in the meantime. Just be careful, Clay doesn’t have much sense left to lose.”

  “We haven’t slept together!” I burst out. The woman gave me a look that said far more than her crude words, and I bit my tongue. Whether I said that we had, or we hadn’t, she wouldn’t believe me. Jonas’ red cheeks were far too easy to read.

  Sweetwater had her arms crossed over her sagging breasts. She looked at me levelly and said, “I know you swallow enough protection liquor to make your womb rot. You shall not take a single drop of it from this island. If you start whoring yourself out like a common slut then you’ll pay the same price as any other woman.”

  I nodded coolly, biting back every rude word I knew. The old bitch was determined to humiliate me. “Can I take any other drugs, Mistress?”

  “Whatever you need.” she shrugged, and then grinned mischievously. “I suspect you could craft an aphrodisiac out of nettles and chicken soup, but you might need to ask Dahra to make you some sleeping drugs and a few mind-fogs.”

  “I don’t need her help.”

  “As you say.” Her wrinkles lined up into a spiral which ended at her gap-toothed maw. I only realised it was a smile when she cooed at Jonas, “Now, let’s talk about payment.”

  They argued for nearly an hour. Jonas may have been cowed by the old woman’s vile words, but when it came to money he refused to be cheated. It was in the island’s interests, Jonas pointed out, to send someone to the Mainland. Really, they should be the ones financing it. Sweetwater had heard about the money he had been given. Her claws lengthened like a ravenous cat.