I looked around, but no one had woken. Bending down, I retrieved it. It was a rusted skeleton key. In the opening at the handheld end was a filigreed triangle with the point meeting the shank of the key, facing the bits. I opened the book. On the first page was the name ‘Gareth Pope.’ I turned that page and read ‘Mother wants me to be a soldier. Father, a priest. I believe he knows my secret and therefore, thinks I will face less adversity in the order of Mother Earth rather than the ranks of Tintarian black. But here I am in my barracks, a soldier. I am fast on my feet and not bad with sword craft, better with a spear. Mother knows too. But I believe she thinks perhaps the infantry will beat it out of me.’
Looking around, I realized that this dormitory could have been a barracks once, for new army recruits. I flipped through more of the book. It was clearly a journal of this man. I turned on the bed so that the weak candlelight lit more of the book.
‘Two people of extreme importance I met today and both made a great impression on me. One was Keturah, the archpriestess of Mother Earth. She approached me in the training yard and told me she had heard that I had earth magic. Who told her, I do not know. I was so nervous in her presence, one of the most powerful people in Tintar. She is a pleasant woman, wrinkly andinquisitive and I think I would enjoy her company. I told her I wanted to pursue a military life and that with the goddess’s blessing, my earth penchant may even aid me in such service to Tintar. She asked what my earth penchant was, reminding me that unlike the other three, earth had more specified propensities. Was I interested in farming? Was I drawn to apothecaries? Did I like Horticulture? Dendrology? I told her that I liked rocks and she laughed and said stone magic was special. And proceeded to tell me the story of the stone drakes, her bony arm thrown towards the sea. Did I know, she began, that an earth Tintarian could, with the right sacrifice to Mother Earth, return the rock formations to their true forms, that of giant drakes who defended Tintar’s coast and capital city, the sea a mere pool to their height? I said yes, I was told the story as a child, that I knew it had been done once but that the goddess put her drakes to sleep because Tintarians did not sacrifice enough to her anymore. It was a cautionary children’s tale about not showing the four deities their due worship. I asked what the sacrifice was and she said I should join the order and find out. Then she reminded me that all of the rooms and corridors inside the bluffs had been made by earth Tintarians who could move stone, that our very own keep was constructed by them, every chamber, every level, every hall. She suggested I could be that powerful. I told her she was exceedingly kind. She bade me reconsider, gave me an adderstone on a leather thong and left the yard. I wear it now.’
I looked towards my black dress laid out over the end of the bed, the hagstone in one pocket.
‘And also, at dinner, the crown prince of Tintar, Hinnom himself, came to my table and sat amongst us fresh infantrymen, his white teeth flashing in his rakish face. He said he wanted to welcome us to the keep. He is beautiful in a sort of sculpted way, the bones of him just visible beneath the skin. His hair is a shiny black and he does not adorn himself as much as you would think a prince does. I felt very country mouse, even in my new army clothes and polished breastplate. The weight of that shield slung over my back is a strain on my shoulders and spine, but I know we infantry cut a fine figure. But he, this celebrated scion of Tintar, with his substantial sea magic, having swum with sharks and emerged the victor, time and again, with his title and his looks, looked at me tonight. He looked at me and smiled and, I would swear my life on this, there was hunger in that first look. Is he like me, I wondered? Did women not entice? Did he also find the long, muscled legs of another man alluring? Did he watch the mouth of another man and wonder at how kissing him would be? Did he desire what I have desired since I was a youth, standing on the side of dances, wishing I could ask another boy and none of the girls?’
All of the lessons taught in Perpatane about coupling for any other reason than to have children washed through me. Pleasure for pleasure’s sake was an affront to Rodwin, a holy man who had spent his life in contemplation of what it meant to be morally pure, who had meditated for winters on end, if his inane, frenzied writings were to be believed. And because two men as a couple or two women did not result in a babe, that was outlawed in Perpatane. Because Rodwin forbade that things like desire or a pursuit of love be satisfied. Eccleston had decriminalized it as well as Tintar in recent winters. But Perpatane still jailed any citizen caught in the bed of any but their spouse, particularly a coupling of two members of the same sex. I read further.
‘I need not have wondered long. The corridors full of infantry and servants as the dining hall emptied, Hinnom, in his plain black, out of the range of the sconces, unrecognized, pulled me into an alcove and kissed me. He asked what must he do to get me into his bed? I was in awe of him. He is so tall. I could not speak and he kissed me again.’
I closed the journal. Hinnom had no queen other than that of his stepmother, the dowager Modwenna, Peregrine’s mother. Was that why? Was that why Tintar had done away with that law? Had Hinnom been the ruler to do it? Was that why his younger brother seemed to have almost as much sway as the king? The kingship would fall to Peregrine as the Shark King had no heir.
Sympathy for this Gareth filled me. It is a terrible thing to be seduced by a seducer.
29. Proposals
In the early morning, after a fitful night of closing my eyes and wishing for sleep, one of Zinnia’s women led us to the women’s baths where we all had another wash, enjoying the cakes of soap. Tin cups of chew sticks punctuated the shelves as well and we all gave our teeth a scrub. The variety used in Tintar was similar to the sticks in Eccleston, herbal, finger length twigs coated in an astringent sap. Those trees grew here as well as in the rest of the continent.
I noticed a woman who was likely noble eyeing me and my tattoos as I cleaned the back of my neck carefully to avoid wetting my hair again. She was sitting on one of the descending steps, nude and proud, rubbing oil into her hands. She had vivid blue eyes, dark hair and flawless skin. I judged her to be of my age or even a little older, but the lack of sun on her flesh and the sheen of her hair told me she was of their peerage.
She inspected my tattoos and then my face and then my body.
“Do you see that woman?” I said to River who was closest. “She is looking at me.”
“I’m sure you cannot be the only person in Tintar with tattoos,” she replied, edging closer to me. I was grateful that she was only partially trying to eye the blue-eyed woman, managing some subtlety.
“Yes, she’s not looking at Mischa’s moth,” I replied. “Just at me and mine.”
“Maybe she knows the captain,” offered River. “I’m sure descriptions of us are circulating along with the rumors about nine Ecclestonian women, particularly you.”
“You think?”
“Yes. Your hand tattoo is very distinctive. And well done, I might add. I have always loved ranunculi. Did you know they are mildly poisonous?”
Giving my attention to River, I turned my back to the woman, frowning to myself.
Zinnia’s woman, Beryl, collected us as we finished up and then introduced us to the dining hall mentioned in Gareth’s journal. And she, like her mistress, generously offered instruction as to where we were and pointed out the handily carved symbols at intervals of the bluff rock. A fork with a corresponding arrow meant you were on the way to dining hall and so forth. We had none of us noticed this yesterday. The first floor of the Shark’s Keep was a maze of halls that either led to one of the four temples of earth, air, sea or fire, to outside the bluff rock, down into Pikestully and the keep liveries or to the living quarters of all non-military keep staff, the kitchens and the great dining hall of King Hinnom’s Shark’s Keep, the room where all who dwelled there ate, even the Shark King himself. The rows of wooden tables and benches went on and on, leading up to several rows of stone ones where the Tintarian peerage and royalty dined. Certain notches at the ends of the tables indicated where one could eat. The ones with shark teeth meant the Tintarian army, cavalry and navy ate there. Unmarked tables were for all other keep staff. Like being in the city center of Pikestully had been, the hundreds of armored men, black-clad servants and well-dressed nobles was overwhelming, but the smells this time were magnificent. I would never take good food for granted again after Nyossa.
The nine of us ate in silence that morning. Each table was full of cutlery, tin plates and silverware, some cups potted clay, others of that cheap, dinged tin. Along the centers of each table were pitchers of cold water and hot tea, plates of seafood, grilled and warm or smoked and chilled, hot bread, fresh and dried fruit and nuts still in their shells. We had served ourselves and were eating, enjoying the feel of a clean body and filling belly.
Beryl, having delivered us to an unmarked table, returned shortly to collect Eefa and Bronwyn. They would be taken to Fletch’s wife’s brewery in the city center. We said our goodbyes to them with embraces and well wishes, promising, once we had found our footing and understood how much freedom we would be given, that we would visit the brewery as soon as we could. Bronwyn whispered hurried thanks in my ear, but Eefa did not acknowledge me. The remaining seven of us sat back down to eat.
“Might I have a moment, lady?” said a warm, male voice.
We looked up to see Thatcher, arms clasped behind his back, his eyes only for Helena.
Mischa, Maureen and I all looked at each other.
Helena swallowed the slice of pear she had been eating and stood. “Of course.”
They stood at a short distance, him speaking and her listening.
The rest of us watched.
“What is happening?” Mischa whispered.
