Book 7, Chapter 8: Hateful kinship
A distant but large booming sound woke me up and shook the stone walls of my prison, my bedroom, just a little, just a touch. Possibly another wall falling, a large section of it. Or a tower. I wasn’t convinced the city would hold out two more days. If everything fell apart, Serce might return home to find me a madwoman, wearing a loincloth and hunting mice for food.
I sat up. Listened. Didn’t hear anything from the other room. The windows were dark, it was yet nighttime.
What a mess! The invading army offering me safety, maybe even power, if only I’d join them. Well, not safety. Protection from . . . Serce, I guess. And everyone else who wanted me anywhere near the Temple. All I had to do was agree to whatever it was they wanted. Immortality. Not a thing I could provide any longer. What would they do when they figured out I was no longer useful for longevity?
It would take them a while to prove. They’d have to clear the Temple of monsters, assuming the Others continued to bring more horrors to this planet. And there was no reason to suspect they weren’t. For all I knew, there was an open portal to Hell, and demons pouring in right now. Anyways, I didn’t know their power constraints, but were I them, I’d be bringing in whatever help I could.
Thus, the nun army would have to clear out the Temple to safely house elderly monarchs, merchants, and generals and whoever else wanted to become young again, to make the place safe. Huh.
I sat up in bed. Perhaps their offer was the wisest. They’d at least get me part way to securing the Trap, securing the Others. Sure, I’d have to deal with them realizing they weren’t getting younger, but that seemed easy by comparison. I hoped, though, that they wouldn’t want to disassemble me to figure out how the entire youth-giving process worked. Or remove my arms and legs so I couldn’t escape again.
‘Hello, Princess Cayce,’ the now-young head nurse would say, sledgehammer in both hands, ‘I’m your number one fan.’ Boom! No ankles.
Oof. Ok, maybe some downsides. God, this whole politicking was annoying when unacknowledged unholy, otherworldly horrors were banging on the door. I needed to somehow escape here, marshal my armies, somehow convince Laemacia to aid me, either get the nun-army on my side or out of the equation, take the mage to the Temple and, without knowing anything, work out how to expel or further contain the unholy creatures that wanted out.
With all the people pushing for their side, the unending politics, threading this needle seemed impossible! The base question I faced was how to gain power, enough to either stop the hostilities or get everyone working together.
Marriage with Serce might do it, except for Serce being in the equation. He wasn’t unpleasant. Excepting this trickery, he’d been easy to get along with, assuming he didn’t change after the wedding. But he probably would. How many nice emperors have there been in history? I couldn’t think of any.
I sure wasn’t nice anymore. I’d killed and killed to get here, with my only excuse being that they, the baddies, the other nobles, were trying to kill or capture me. And now I was just like them. Once I was empress, I was on a clear path to take up torture as a hobby. Along with golfing.
The most recent offer from the elderly Tienseon was attractive. Except I did not trust her, not at all. It was true, I didn’t really trust anyone here, but her least of all. She’d been playing games since day one of my incarceration, trying to cause me issues. But. But, if she could remove Serce from power and install me as empress, that seemed double plus good in my books, except for the likely beheading of the former handsome ambassador, and then forcing me to marry one of her men, and probably doing her best to keep me out of power.
As I lay back down, I missed my ravens. Tapping on my windows. Their interruptions were much more welcome than those of an invading army, let me tell you! My ravens, crows, my corvids, and foxes. Emblems, representatives, friends of a trickster god and they no longer talked with me.
Yet, one animal did. Well, not so much talking as communicating, and never quite friendly, but maybe. Maybe I should reach out to them, if I ever escape this prison. I wonder if they’d help out. After all, their forests were at risk, their lives, too.
I decided then and there to do it. The next time I crossed a dryad’s grove, I was chatting with the unicorns.
***
After breakfast, after listening to the idiot twins encourage me to not only marry Serce, but bring them along with me as one big, happy polygamous family, after watching the cheese monger set up his smelly offerings and clear the table, and considering but rejecting a sudden, violent exit through the kitchens, I headed to the gardens, bodyguard in tow.
“Perhaps, my lady, it is time to begin your etiquette sessions?”
Giving her ugly side-eye to point out the absurdity of her comment, I didn’t stop walking, “To the garden.” With luck, I’d run into the nun-army’s agent again. I wanted to see what she’d offer, how feasible my late-night musings were. In reality, I’d be trading one cage for another. Despite hating the one I found myself in, it was pretty comfortable. Still, I needed whatever information she brought, though I was probably being a traitor to the empire by indulging her offer.
Also, I should probably ask her name. Humans give away their names so easily.
They met us in the large hallway just before the gardens. The etiquette teacher brought no less than five eunuchs to this fight and, unwisely, her class of giggling, hands over their mouths, and likely soon to be terrified, girls. I guess she wanted them to see I could be cowed. They wore white dresses that, I was happy to see, were modest, up to their necks, and open only to show cleavage and nothing more. I guess they graduated later to revealing clothing.
Another item added to my list of things to berate Serce about, if and when he returned and called for my company. Oh, but I was furious!
“Your Highness,” the etiquette teacher began, arm extended and indicating the rest of the girls who stood in a line along the hallway, “we’d love it if you’d join us for dance lessons.”
A few of the girls covered their mouths with their hands and mirth was in their eyes. One even winked at me. Another went so far as to say to the girl beside her, scarcely above a whisper but audible nonetheless, “This’ll be fun!” Yet, two were holding hands, staring at the ground, trying to shrink into the wall.
Five eunuchs, waiting behind the teacher, now walked around her, barring my way. The leftmost man, cheeks and nose puffed up, red and yellow, was the one I’d met yesterday. He tensed, eyes looking anywhere but me, hands tightly clasped above his belt, baton dangling untouched from its side.
Clean shaven to a fault, his fellows were relaxed, some openly smiling, and one slapping his baton into his left palm. Their physiques weren’t quite like other testicle-intact men. They had round faces, as if they never lost their baby fat, and slim and smooth arms and legs with just the hint of muscles.
These guys wanted to beat me up, get some revenge on one of the girls who far outranked them, maybe just unleash some pent-up anger. I could understand their feelings. Excepting, of course, that I was their target.
Which made beating them easier. I hated to think this, but the girl was right. This was going to be enjoyable. My own slice of Valhalla, thanks to the very dedicated etiquette teacher. I wondered if she was being threatened or simply strongly ordered to force me into submission. Not her fault, but I didn’t have to like her. And she was persistent.
I stepped forward and Mestamir took me by the upper arm, pulling me to a stop. She leaned over to say, in a low voice, “My lady, perhaps it would be wise not to fight five trained guards?”
The etiquette teacher smiled warmly.
I stared at Mest, from her eyes to hand on my arm. She looked at it, eyes back up to mine, widening as she caught my intention, and withdrew her hand. I gave her a head tilt and corrected her, not restraining my voice in the slightest, “Four. There’s only four men here to fight.”
The guards looked at each other, then at the bruised, battered, and frightened guard, and caught my meaning.
Mest’s gaze shifted to the first eunuch, up and down his tense, almost quaking body, then back to me. “Nevertheless, ma’am, I must see to your safety.” In a quieter voice, she said, “You can’t fight four men, not with your size. Ma’am, what’s the harm in having lessons? You might learn something useful.”
I considered. Perhaps she was right. The girls would gossip, some of them had to be plants for other powers, spies maybe. They might share secrets with me if I plied them. I was, after all, a trickster goddess. Maybe I should engage in some trickery.
“Nah.” Turning away from Mest, I headed over to the scary baton-slapping guy and stepped on his toe.
***
After dropping the bloody baton at her feet, and smiling sweetly, I patted the etiquette teacher on the shoulder, “Thank you.”
She’d closed her eyes, was trying to remain perfectly still, but her hands were shaking and shaking.
Stepping around her, I continued to the garden. The sound of cute girl gasps and eunuch moans fading behind me with each step. If I began to enjoy these sounds, it probably meant I was turning to the dark side. Well, they had cookies.
Mestamir’s footsteps rapidly ringing out as she scrambled to catch up. “Ma’am! How did you – well, right, you knew only four of them would fight you, but how did you . . .”
“I’m sure his fellows won’t be too happy with him after today, but the one from yesterday learned his lesson. Now they have, too. I imagine they’ll extract revenge for standing perfectly still, though.”
“If I may,” she hurried in front, faced me, forcing us to stop, “I’ve never seen a finer display of martial combat! You moved as if a brilliant dancer, or an acrobat, so perfectly fluid. And you never misstepped!”
“Ah.”
“How,” she shook her head in disbelief, “how did you learn to fight thusly?”
“Ah.” Staring into her eager eyes, searching my own for hidden answers, I wondered what to tell her. Lying never worked for me, so I went with the truth. “Thousands and thousands of years of training.”
She blinked very slowly. “Thousands?”
“Yes. You people move so slowly in my eyes. I see your mistakes before you know you’re going to make them. It’s like, it’s like fighting children. Except that children land blows because they’re so chaotic. Listen,” I took her arm in mine because I’d rather be walking than have her staring at me, “when I built this body, I hardcoded the fighting experience in. It’s unfortunate for those eunuchs, but they don’t stand a chance against a goddess. If only I thought to give myself some harem-escaping skills.”
“I, uhm, see. I see.”
We walked in silence for a bit until I released her, stepping ahead, and then I was miraculously alone. Or, it felt like that. The bodyguard probably considered me insane, wondering how she got into this mess, and decided to be as quiet as possible.
The garden was hot and humid under the glass roof, and as green as ever, the plants enjoying their time away from pests. Passing a lime tree, then lemon trees, I wondered how much of the harem’s food came from this place. Some fruit, perhaps. Or maybe that went directly to Serce. Or thrown out, I had no idea, but if this were mine, it’d be distributed.
From behind, “Can you teach me?”
I didn’t turn around. “Not really. I mean, a little, but you don’t have . . .” letting that sentence trail off to nothing, as it wouldn’t have made sense to her – I was going to say, ‘the bodily architecture for it’ – I faced her, instead asking, “Tell me the errors the eunuchs made in the fight. What did the first one I took down do wrong?”
“He didn’t expect you to attack.”
“Ok, that one’s easy because I caught him off guard. Mind you, the guy from yesterday should have warned him. So, that’s on him, he probably didn’t believe the guy. Maybe they won’t bully him after this, maybe he’ll be like, ‘I told you so!’ and they’ll listen.”
“Yes, my lady. The second guard fumbled drawing his baton. You’d already taken the first’s and cracked his hand before he could pull it out. Instead of taking a defensive posture, to work with the other guards, he punched at you and you smashed that hand, too. The third one’s mistake was committing fully to his attack when you were moving into him. That allowed you to get under his arms and-”
“Yes, and the fourth?”
“He swung wide.”
I nodded. “That was dumb. Clumsy, clumsy’s a better word. These guys probably aren’t the best example of fighting, but basically all of them made serious mistakes. And they just move poorly.”
“While they move poorly, you were outnumbered and they were men. How did you fight so many so easily? My own teachers couldn’t have - few fully trained soldiers could have continued attacking in that manner. Most would have allowed the attack to come to them or acquiesced to greater numbers.”
“Alright,” I stopped myself from sighing, “try to punch me. We’ll start there.” I had mixed feelings about teaching her anything. She could be asking to learn how I move for later, if she had to contain me. And the praise was over the top and made me feel gross. I, the Cayce inside this body, didn’t earn those fighting skills. It was like being praised for receiving a gift. ‘Wow, you are so amazing that you were given a wallet!’ Yuck, no thank you. Anyways, I had to admit, without magic, Loki’s long life of combat was sure paying off.
I wondered then, not for the first nor last time, whether I should have accepted Loki’s memories, too. It was, oddly, a rejection of self, to reject those. And Loki would have succeeded, easily, where I could only stumble along in the dark.
No idea why those sentiments kept haunting me. I wanted to be me and not Loki. And it didn’t matter, because I was me and not him. Or her, or whatever Loki was.
I was a her, I decided.
Pushing these thoughts out of my mind, I sparred with Mest lightly, teaching her what I could, while waiting for the nun’s spy to show up. I had questions. Only she could answer them. And then I’d make my decision.
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