The Pearl Crucible - A Dardana Fenek Mystery - DARDANA FENEK (Part 1)
(Chapter 43 Part One)
They bound our eyes again, and took us away in the dark.
Temes, it’s said, was born out of a rock and came from a cave in the bosom of the world and lay to sleep in the wood, where Irodiada, coming out of the waters, found him. So—I hear—the exit from the temeaeum is like being born. The brother—I’m told, don’t ask by whom—goes in without the breath of spirit and emerges a new and living man.
So we were like new women, from the heat of the cave-womb into the cooling evening warmth under the light of Neith as she sank westwards in the path of the vanished sun. Taken blind back to where we left our sandals, our eyes were freed, and Efan was there, no lion mask, no lion skin, just him and his dress blues and the moonlight. In the shadows among the trees, I saw a few men in black cloaks and raven masks—in case Alkimila, thrust flat in the ferns, tried to cause trouble.
Herme Scyros stood queenly and bare-armed in the gold-white light, her feet naked in the moss, and she pointed at the four servants who clung to each other. They curtseyed and flowed at once to crouch in a flutter of white chitons, kissing their new contract-owner’s feet and hands and hems and tied on her sandals and Orestia’s. They knew to whom they belonged—for the moment at least.
I wondered when the last time the Scyros women had dressed themselves was. Years? Ever?
I should talk. I confess Barsina had dressed me almost all the time for the past two and a half years. There’s something to it if you have the money, or the luck.
A deep plainchant hummed in the earth as the syndex completed its evening’s services. The coffin would doubtless soon emerge from some deep internal chamber for Fortunato’s final trip to the family mausoleum in the Nekropolo on the other side of the wood. We would have to be gone, I sensed.
“I appreciate your assistance, Ensign-Captain,” said Herme Scyros. “It has made an annoying series of events more profitable where it could have been costly to me.”
“It’s my pleasure, Miss Scyros,” he said.
“Shall we take our new toys home, Orestia dear?”
“Yes, Mother.”
“You should make sure this one gets some rest: she’ll have a long trip to Calypso.” She favored Alkimila with a kick
“Miss Scyros, I’ll send someone with you to get you to your ground-car with her,” Efan said. He beckoned to a raven-masked shadow. “Brother Korako Kvardek Sep? Can you safeguard Miss Scyros and Miss Orestia?”
“With pleasure, sir,” said Subaltern Alagon’s voice. “Up, you,” he said to Alkimila.
She made a squalling noise, wriggled, almost trying to run as he dragged her to her feet, and then gave up.
“Good evening, Ensign-Captain,” she said to Efan.
“Good evening, Miss,” he said.
She looked at me. “I trust you have nothing to complain of?”
I curtseyed mutely, and Barsina followed suit. She departed in a cloud of scent and trailing silks, her new contracts following, Alagon dragging Alkimila by the arm. I haven’t seen her since.
Orestia stopped by me, and her teeth flickered at me in the dying moonlight. “I will come for you by and by,” I thought she said, and she was gone in a flutter of shadow and stars.
I shuddered.
“Efan,” Thelumene said hopefully, lifting her hands.
“Thelnjo,” he said.
I bridled, and she didn’t fail to notice, raising her chin and putting on citizen airs as he untied her.
“Thank you, Efan,” she said, offering him her hand. He bowed over it. “I do mean it.”
“Pick your friends better,” he said. “And stay home, Thelnjo.”
“My father will marry off at once if he can find anyone who’ll take me,” she said bitterly. “And I have to buy new maids!” She made a frustrated noise.
“I am sorry,” he said. “But you almost went with Alkimila and been someone’s maid yourself.”
She shuddered. “I would swallow my tongue and choke first,” she said.
“The marriage is better.”
“Darling,” she caught his hand, “what if you and I—?”
He shook his head and gently freed himself. “I respect your father,” he said. “It’s not a match he wants.”
She pursed her lips and pouted. “Of course,” she said. “Of course. And this creature—” she said of me, “which one of you … men—?”
Then I guess she realized how I was looking at him, and she flushed in the moonlight, angry again.
“Oh!—I hope you’re happy with her,” she snapped. “She requires much beating.”
“I understand,” he said, grave. “She’s been a trial so far, and a great responsibility.” He gestured, and a machine moved from the shadows under the trees into the road and pulled over: a black hire-car, with a uniform sitting in it.
“Take Miss Testaferrata to La Stela Meridiano, armsman. Make sure she does not leave it until she departs for Helioshad tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir,” the uniform said, as if driving aristoi girls to hotels and standing there at their door overnight was all in a day’s work for militia. Irodiada, maybe it is.
Efan bent over her hand, and she kissed his cheek, looked at me, mouthing, Some day, and was gone in a flash. Out of my life for good, I hope, the damned both of them, her and Orestia both.
Solene was waiting patiently—for her—and he untied her hands last of all.
“Well,” she said, chafing her wrists. “This was a bit of an evening.”
“Yes, it was.—Will you ride back into the city with me?”
She looked at us. Barsina had her arm through mine, but mostly we looked respectful. “If it’s no trouble,” she said.
“Not at all, my ground-car’s this way.”
“Kind of you.—Kind of you to intervene between Herme and me.”
“I’m interested in justice,” he said. “And peaceful solutions. And I have an obligation to you now.”
“I won’t let you forget it, either, my dear Ensign-Captain.—Alas, I get no revenge for Isthmia,” she said. “Yet. That bint Orestia is on my list of people to destroy, and Herme is not far behind.”
“I hope it can be kept peaceful and legal, and I hope I’m not on that list.”
“Oh, my, no, Ensign-Captain,” she smiled, putting her hand on his arm (oh, my eyes narrowed). “Not at all! I hope you and I will work well together until your inevitable promotion.”
“I have every expectation we will,” he said. “It isn’t all creditable to my assistance, Miss Zenithar. The words that … were spoken are correct. You are too dangerous a woman to attempt to destroy.”
“Oh, I can assure you,” she said, “the chaos my in-the-event-of files would unleash would be epically interesting.”
Barsina and I sat on the floor of the ground-car at her feet while she chatted with the ensign-captain about city gossip and some interesting things I heard, but I didn’t know how they would be of value to me now that I was … well, Io again. Solene kept stroking Barsina’s hair, and I certainly did not like that any more than I liked her touching him, and she knew it.
As we came into the Brothel District and neared Mama Solene’s, still going strong near midnight, she said, “My dear Ensign-Captain, I don’t suppose that would consider selling the Barsina’s contract to me? Or possibly exchanging her—I have a few interesting and uncommon young women you might find to your taste.”
“I like Barsina,” he said. “I find her useful. And I think that … it would be frowned on if I gave her back to you.”
“I’ll just have to get another one,” she said, peevish. “Such clever things, but a bit dear to the pocketbook.”
“I am sorry. I don’t wish her to be a point of friction. But … ”
“Oh, I understand,” she said. “It’s just that this one was so well-trained. Such a waste, just to be your handmaid.”
“I do apologize,” Efan said, slowing and parking.
She smiled at Barsina and me. “Do remember,” she said. “Any time you like, Ensign-Captain, I would be happy to take her off your hands. Your Io as well, if she is tedious.”
“A kind offer,” he said. “I won’t forget.”
She gave us a cold smile and me a particularly unfriendly look. “I find girls need encouragement to perform sometimes. Good night, Ensign-Captain.”
“Good night.”
And she was gone.
( … This way to Chapter Forty-two part 3 … ) ( … This way to Chapter Forty-two part 2 … )
… ( … This way to Chapter One part 1 … ) …