‘Of course we will, but Locky cannot go alone. You must go with him.’ And she had eyed him, a dangerous glitter coming into that look Janus Quist knew well. She would not be contradicted nor beaten on this. She had made her compromise to his wishes. Now he must meet her halfway.
‘If you can manage a little longer on your own, my dear, then I will gladly escort Queen Sarel and the lady, Hela, to Gynt.’
And so it had happened that the four had left the following daybreak on horseback, Goth and his men hot on their heels, behind by just a day.
Goth’s sharp voice brought her out of her recollections.
‘I don’t wish to have to injure my hands by beating it out of you.’
‘I’m sure you don’t,’ Eryn countered. ‘Just get one of
your cowardly soldiers to do it for you. I see Cipreans take pleasure in beating women.’
The soldiers did not like this and responded with angry mutters and indignant expressions. Serve them right, she thought. She would offer no information. Beating or not, she would not give up Janus or Locky. These men might look threatening, but it was not as though they would kill her for her silence, surely. If they roughed her up, so be it. She would be strong. She had been strong all her life and she would draw on that strength now if they wanted to hurt her.
The man in black, the Leper, sighed a little theatrically. ‘So you will not make this easy for yourself?’
She said nothing, just raised her chin a bit higher. ‘Go fuck yourself, Goth,’ she cursed, using the sneer she had seen many a sailor use during brawls outside Madame Vylet’s in the old days.
He smiled crookedly, but it was more of a smirk. ‘Strip and bind her!’ he commanded, turning his back on Eryn.
Soldiers, albeit unhappily, leapt to his command and did as instructed, and as they did so, Goth addressed his audience. The sun had risen now and more curious Caradoons had gathered. The Quist family was popular. What could possibly be happening here? Some of the brothel girls —the younger ones—had begun to weep noisily. The elder ones tried to hug and console them but they too were feeling the first real chill of fear for the mistress they knew as Eryna. So far things had only been rough—most of them were sore and used, but that would heal. They feared for their madam. She was a good woman, a generous one, and, they realised now, a brave
one. Somehow they sensed that the moment of ‘rough’ had passed. This man would see to it that the situation spiralled into ugly—dangerous, even. Quist had returned a day or so ago and lovely Locky was back to tease them. A couple of new girls had accompanied them; beautiful, but quiet and wary. They did not speak much to the others and had left almost as quickly as they had arrived. No one had thought much more about them.
What did these men, clearly Ciprean, want with Eryna’s husband? Perhaps his pirating had become greedy? Unlikely. They all knew the reputation of Quist was about as high as a man could enjoy in this part of the Kingdom.
The effeminate-sounding man in black held their rapt attention now. He was explaining that he sought the pirate, Quist, for his part in the capture and theft of the new Ciprean Queen, a young woman called Sarel. She was accompanied by a slightly older woman—her maid—named Hela. They all knew he was describing the same women who had been amongst them a day or so ago.
‘Who wants to add anything to this story?’ he sneered at the women gathered before him.
It was Eryn who shouted back. ‘Why would my husband steal this girl you speak of?’
Goth did not look at her, he continued to address the other women —he did so love playing to a crowd. ‘I’d like to ask him that question myself. Why would he steal our Queen?’
‘She’s not your Queen, Goth. You are Tallinese. A murdering, cowardly, cringing, unfaithful dog who deserves nothing from us…not even the spit from my mouth which I’ve already wasted on you.’
Still he did not face her, but imagined the sharp chill of the early morning biting into bare flesh. Eryn was trembling—a combination of cold and anger. She thought of Tor, saw him putting his long, strong arms around both those women and hugging them close—how safe they would feel. She wished she too could feel those arms around her now. Then she thought of her kind and affectionate husband who, she knew, worshipped the very ground she walked upon, and she thought of Locky, the bright boy with the bright future if only he was not in such a headlong rush to get himself killed. And finally she thought of Petyr, her favourite brother, whose life had been cut short because of the attentions of another man like Goth. A man who liked to bully and take out his insecurities and brutal inclinations on powerless people…on innocents. As a little girl she had held her new baby brother, Petyr, and loved him at first sight. She had also held his wasted dead body in her arms and that would always be her memory of the brother she had adored. Something snapped within her as she watched the former chief inquisitor, now some sort of inquisitor for the Cipreans, strutting about like a peacock—except this was a black-garbed one…more like a crow. He was sinister and dark and devious. He brought death.
She would not kowtow to him. She would not reveal anything about the whereabouts of Janus or Locky or the women they protected. She would do this for all of them if it took her life. And if it did, she hoped Torkyn Gynt—the only man she had ever loved for nothing more than the man he was—would seek retribution on this death-monger.
‘Do what you will, Leper. Neither my girls nor I have anything to tell you,’ she snarled and felt strengthened by her own courage.
‘Hang her from that tree,’ he ordered, pointing to the one he wanted. ‘By her feet.’
Eryn felt all the blood rush to her head. She was disoriented; no longer embarrassed now over her nakedness but more concerned with the amount of pain the Leper would inflict. Humiliation was beyond her. Nothing now would force her to give him the information he sought.
Eryn felt the sun’s warmth kiss her bare flesh as the first hint of summer began to touch this northern land.
On that last wonderful night of carefree affection and friendship with Tor, he had told her how he had taught Alyssa not to be afraid— how to escape from her fear and allow her mind to detach and rush to a safe place she called The Green. Eryn had not really understood this at the time but she grasped its meaning now. The menace of impending pain gave her an insight into what Tor had meant when he talked about being able to separate the mind from fear or hurt. She needed to do that now. Eryn did not know how, but she understood that she must remove her spirit from this frightening event and then no matter what the Leper did to her, she could survive it. Perhaps he meant to whip her? Scald her, even…she had heard of such torture to extract information.
Feeling dizzy now, she tried to picture something which might carry her away from this, allow her the escape she needed to survive the torment. And in a way she was relieved that it was Quist’s face which came to mind rather than Tor’s. Tor did not belong to her; she loved him but he
would never love her in the way she wanted him to. His heart was spoken for. So, with great fondness, she pictured her pirate’s scarred, ugly face and heard that special gentle voice he reserved for her alone. When Janus grinned, his mirth touched his one good eye and made it sparkle. She imagined him smiling at her now.
The Leper was talking and she ignored his presence. She could not hear him very well either because she was making herself listen to Janus and his affectionate words. He was telling her that he was going to take her away for a while, leave the north and sail to some beautiful islands he knew lying west of the mainland, where the purest white sand felt like silk beneath your bare feet and the waters were warm and so clear the fish were visible. A place where oysters gave up their remarkable fat, creamy pearls and he would have them strung and placed about her neck.
Eryn could now hear the lapping of the ocean and the call of sea birds overhead…and all the while the soft voice of Janus Quist whispered sweetly to his wife.
The glint of a blade entered her consciousness but she clung to her vision, managed to keep it as real as she could. Ah, so he intended to cut her. An unoriginal torture but so be it. He would slash at her flesh but he would make no impact on her mind because Eryn was swimming with dolphins now and Janus was laughing in the distance as she held their fins and raced through the crystal waters with her friends.
The vision faltered as she heard Goth: ‘…enemies of Cipres must die.’
Did she hear correctly? Did he mean to kill her then? How odd, she had not really considered death as a
possibility. She had only accepted torture. It seemed the Leper no longer needed her information; he had been insulted by her—‘a base-born whore’—she could hear him saying.
So she must die in order to give Locky a life and to protect Janus and his royal charge. She knew deep down the Leper would probably have never permitted her life even if she had given up the details he demanded. She sighed with the realisation that it was death now beckoning her so much earlier than she had anticipated.
Janus whispered in her mind.
They call to you, my love,
he said, pointing towards more dolphins.
They want you to ride the waves with them and be for ever safe amongst them.
If Eryn felt the deep death-slash Goth made across her taut belly, she did not show her shock, but her body did, instantly spilling its slippery contents. She was not aware that Goth had decided to help this process, relishing the opportunity to empty the cavity of all that he could grasp within it.
Soldiers turned away, vomiting. Girls no longer screamed but fell to the dust, pale and unconscious from their own shock. Others held each other and turned away, refusing to give the Leper the awed audience he so desperately wanted.
Goth finished his grisly work, enjoying the steaming wet feel of his fingers and the death they had wrought. He looked up towards the skies at the circling black crows who might later feast at this scene. He smiled at the thought and realised it must have been their arrival which scared the small flock of wrens which had scattered earlier.
This execution was one of his more inspired moves; he had always wanted to kill someone in this manner and had often wondered how long it would take the body—following the shock of being emptied and exposed like this—to die. He estimated that Quist’s attractive wife, who tragically had not given the satisfaction of so much as a groan, had but moments left.
Eryn began to feel drowsy.
Janus whispered that she should rest with her friends and she smiled at him. The dolphins took her deeper now; she could feel the seaweed touching her face, ropey and almost warm to the touch.
It’s true she was tired.
I didn’t tell him, Janus,
she whispered back to her husband’s dimming face as the depths of death claimed her.
Eryn’s death was mercifully fast on that shiny morning and her friends would later comment that they could almost glimpse a smile on her pretty face. It was a slightly crooked smile, distorted because her face had been so badly broken on that side.
Goth did not have to inflict much damage on one of the youngest girls whom he noticed had suffered some sort of nervous episode following the slaughter of the madam. It turned out she was not one of the prostitutes but a simple serving-girl, who helped out each morning with breakfast and cleaning up the tavern from the previous night’s carousing. His sharp eyes had picked her out as the one most likely to spill any potential information, and he was right.
The moment he turned his attention onto her the girl began to shake violently.
‘I wish to speak with you,’ he said, pointing towards the stricken girl. ‘The rest of you men provision yourselves from whatever you can find inside the tavern, then be mounted. We ride shortly.’
Goth motioned to the most senior soldier who approached. ‘Leave two men here to guard Quist’s wife’s body. It is to remain hanging as it is now and to be fully enjoyed by the carrion birds.’ He watched the man grimace. ‘Have that girl brought over to her mistress.’
She was dragged screaming to cower near Eryn’s corpse which was already beginning to attract the attention of flies.
‘Shut up!’ Goth commanded.
She did from dread but could not stop her terrified whimper.
‘If you prefer not to be strung up next to the whore here, you will tell me everything I wish to know. Is that clear?’
She nodded. Her stifled sobs began to excite Goth.
‘Were the women we spoke of here?’
The girl nodded but could not look at her captor.
‘Good. You see how easy this is?’ He continued. ‘When did they leave?’
She whispered something and Goth decided he needed to soften her up. She was certainly cooperating but she was too slow. His boot landed viciously in her abdomen and he felt ribs splinter. Good, that should win her prompt attention. The girl collapsed to the dust, landing in the twisted ropes of Eryn’s bowel and
vomited both from the realisation of what she sat amongst and the pain searing through her body. Vomiting made it hurt more but her small body retched all the same from the dizzying trauma and the smell of Eryn ripening in the sun’s warmth.
‘Speak up and fast, girl, or you die amongst your mistress’s guts,’ Goth warned.
Through her gasps she answered him. ‘Yesterday. They left at dawn.’
‘Who with?’
‘Locky and Mr Quist, sir.’
Ah, Goth thought, so Quist continues to offer protection whilst the brother-by-marriage trails alongside. This was interesting.
‘Where were they headed?’
‘I don’t know, sir,’ she whimpered, pulling herself away from the slippery mass she kneeled on.
Then she remembered something she had overheard whilst serving food to the guests. She hoped this item might save her life. ‘Oh wait…I did hear them talking about the Great Forest. It was brief, sir. I serve food. It was all I heard in passing.’ Pain overtook her and she could say no more.
Goth was no longer interested in her and stepped away, grimacing at the mess she had made of herself. So they had made tracks for the Great Forest. Why? Who was there to look after them? He pondered this as he rinsed his hands of Eryn in a nearby trough. The only time he had ever had reason to venture into the Great Forest was in his relentless searching for Torkyn Gynt and Alyssa Qyn all those years ago.