From my research, I believe a slice on the fleshier part of the left palm, cupped until full of blood and then poured out onto the body of the goddess will result in this. This is of course unusual for earth temple staff as they usually prick their right hand on the pointed sagaris end hanging to their right. This makes the mention of the use of the left hand’s blood one of significance. The mossy rock on the top of the keep is likely the best place. The moss representing how soft Mother Earth can be and the bluff rock repenting her hardness. It is so easy a sacrifice that I can only think it works for very powerful earth Tintarians, otherwise they all would have been summoning stone drakes continuously and there would be more written on them than bedtime tales. And Keturah said I am such, that I had enough in me to one day take her place. I thought perhaps my prince wanted us to have a romantic night of sailing around these great formations that fascinate his lover, but no. Hinnom wanted to show me he could kill a shark with his bare hands. He swam to the sloop and climbed aboard, kissed me and sailed us past the rocks and towards the horizon until we could no longer see the shore. I had never been this far out to sea and was horrified. He dropped anchor and dived off the edge of the sloop without a word to me. I watched the dark gray and green sea for him, but he did not return for some time. Then he resurfaced with a slick, dark writhing thing that was twice his size. They thrashed on the frothing surface for what seemed like an hour to me, although my prince assures me it was not even a tenth of an hour. I do not know how he killed it because I could not bear to watch. I was terrified for him but also felt sympathy for the shark. I wondered at Sister Sea allowing him to be so potent and yet murder her creations. He did not wrestle them to eat or make use of their flesh in some medicinal way. He wanted their bones. He liked their teeth. He gave me a necklace of a shark’s tooth but it clacked against the adderstone Keturah gave me. I hung it from my bedpost. I told him it helps me sleep.
Gareth then started writing about the sex he and his lover had had after Hinnom dragged the mighty body of the shark from the naval docks into the keep, shouting for it to be stripped of its flesh down to its bones. These passages about sex and love always made me sad because I believed Hinnom, whilst having had feelings for Gareth, had used him and Gareth had clearly fallen for his king.
After a desultory hour of flicking through the journal and sipping a tin cup of water, I made my way to the dormitory.
47. Crowns
The flowers had been delivered but Helena was yet to return from the throne room. Maureen was combing River’s hair and Mischa was braiding Catrin’s. Quinn was twisting the stems of green ferns, white roses and lilies together to create a crown. All of the flowers had been chosen and the only left were red roses and the blue flax flowers. I knew Helena would have preferred the roses. I sat next to Quinn and started to weave my crown. Everyone was excited about The Rush of Flowers, other women in the dormitory weaving their flower crowns and talking about the dancing and the music. I tried to appear interested when Maureen offered to comb my hair out for me before I wore the flower crown.
Luncheon in the dining hall was only half full of tables. Many staff members had already gone down to the city center to begin celebrating. Helena joined us at the table and talk of the evening enveloped us. After a meal of plums and fish, we returned to the dormitory so Helena could weave her crown of red roses. And then we began the walk down to the city center.
Pikestully was alive with flowers, the stones beneath us strewn with petals and ferns, garlands crisscrossing every street and wreaths were around every horse’s neck and on every door. Every woman and girl wore a flower crown of some sort and wealthier women had floral embroidery on their gowns. Music and singing poured out of every tavern, brewery and square. Every large intersection we walked by had been turned into a place for dancing.
Again we passed the Angler forge, but this time I kept my head turned away.
When we reached the brewery, I looked around but saw none of the Procurers or Alric and his twin. Fletch’s wife and her sister set down a stack of tin cups and pitchers of the pear cider we had the first time as well as an ale with a berry flavor. Eefa and Bronwyn came and sat with us, flowers in their hair as well. The sisters had given them the day off until the evening when patrons would be crammed into the building. Eefa was subdued, her belly now sitting out farther from her, but she did not seem unhappy. Bronwyn seemed to relish her new life and was eagerly telling us how Eefa had a knack for brewing. Eefa denied this, but seemed pleased at her grandmother’s words.
We sipped at our cider and ale for hours, picking at a plate of nuts and fruit we had ordered. I laughed at Mischa’s continued imitations of Jeremanthy’s men who tripped over themselves at finding a voluptuous woman working in their general’s chambers. Hours flew by, the nine of us talking and Eefa and Bronwyn soon had to stand to work behind the bar, filling jugs from the wall of barrels behind them and topping off the tin cups brought to them by patrons.
“They’re here,” Helena said, eyes on me and Mischa.
The three of us sat at the end of the table.
“Who is?” Mischa asked, looking to where Helena had tipped her head.
My back was to the door and I refused to turn. “She means my husband and both of your betrotheds. And likely my husband’s family.”
“Are they big men with red hair?” Mischa asked.
“I think so,” I sighed. “I am sure I should stand and go meet them.”
Helena turned to Mischa and gave her a brief account of the exchange on the stairs.
“Why is he so disagreeable?” Mischa asked and swilled her cider.
“We were entirely civil and polite for a while and then he ruined it,” I said.
“He is almost as disagreeable as Perch,” she said. “That big, dumb animal comes into Jeremanthy’s and refuses to acknowledge me. How rude is that?”
Helena smiled timidly over my shoulder, I imagined at Thatcher and then looked away.
“How long can I pretend I do not know they are here?” I asked. “I’ve no desire to meet his family today.” Most likely, he does not want me to meet them, I thought. He probably, like his former lover, did not think me good enough for him. With that thought, I knew I was about to be in my cups. “Do I seem drunk?” I asked them.
“We can tell, but I doubt anyone else can,” answered Mischa.
“You seem… hurt,” said Helena gingerly.
“Hurt?”
“I think he hurt your feelings. I do not know why he was irritated by flowers, but his …briskness upset you.” Her face was wary like she had crossed a boundary.
I nodded. “He did. I have been trying to be courteous and he just… does not care.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Mischa said, looking around. “This place is full. And continuing to fill. You can act as if you do not see them. I’m acting as if I have not seen the fish man.”
“Is that not what you just accused him of doing to you in the infantry offices?” Helena asked.
I laughed. “Her own rules don’t apply to her.”
