Page 21 of Light Up the Night

“Hold our ground. If she breeches that bend, I want to know of it!” Bard bellowed to the men.

I gave a nod, solidifying our troops with his, and led the way back to the Great Hall. I didn’t want questions, and I didn’t care to see the tear-stained faces of our future widows, so I cut through the back and took them straight to the office.

Keifer, Chalice, Bard, and Fish gathered around the large Oak table and gazed back at me like I was in charge. Nothing in life had ever frozen me so quickly or deeply.

Surely, they realized my answer to half of life was a capital crime… what the fuck did they expect from me?

There were rules to this type of thing. The oldest son hierarchy within the house, for fuck sake! This was Messiah’s demonstration. All Messiah. I took orders. I killed. I did a lot of things. Taking responsibility, wasn’t one of them. Not for myself, and certainly, most certainly, not for others.

I wanted to run. To scream. Cry maybe? My hands itched to snatch one of them by the throat until their eyes were as big as mine felt… but all I could do was contend with the quiver of my jaw and pray no one else could see it.

“Keif was worried about food.” Of all the fucking things to pop into my mind.

“The people will move to quarter rations, save for the infirm and the expecting.” Fish spoke as if he represented the people of the Inlet. It’s quite possible that by now, he did. The boy was wise beyond his years.

“Right. Rations. Have the women bring any canned goods and dried meat to the Great Hall. Everything will be gotten through as a community.” My words came a lot slower than they sounded in my mind. It was almost a delayed ‘thinking aloud’ type situation, but no one stopped me. They all hushed as I worked it out. “Last resort, we butcher one of them milkers. Won’t be worth much, stews… broth goes farther?”

“Fine… fine.” Chalice flicked her hands and stared at me like I had three heads. It anchored me further to the floor and shattered every thought I had. What the fuck did she want? I was a walking, talking complication. And that was on a good day. I was a physician. An assassin. I either killed people or I fucking saved their life. Things that happened quietly.

Not. In. This. Chaos!

Oh, to be back in the infirmary. With my Root. A whole cabinet full of goodies. I’d even smile at the fucking leaches…

“Leakers,” I gasped, tossing a wild hopeful look around the table. “Do they have leakers in the Iron Inlet?”

All eyes riveted toward Fish and Bard.

“Of course, there are leakers.” Fish sighed before casting Keif a disappointed look. “I thought he was the brains?”

I snorted and shook my head.

“Alright. So, that elephant caused quite the stir up there.” I swatted the air in the boy’s direction and tried to keep them on track. “The terrain has no doubt kicked their ass. They’re probably resting on the ground when they stop. Scratches and blistered feet…”

“What does that have to do with the leakers? We can’t just throw them on the path. They will be gone by the time her men reach it,” Fish objected.

“The midwives!” Bard cried. “My woman is expecting our first child, the midwife gave her a bottle to wear on her neck, like a medallion. A tiny little thing that holds a few grains of sand and slivers of gemstones.”

Keif snapped his fingers and pointed toward me. “I’ve seen those. They call them gris-gris in the Kingdom Isles! The glass is thin, and when it breaks, the wise women claim it means the charm worked. It took a hit of negativity meant for the mother or baby.”

“Do they break easy?” Once he described them, I knew exactly what he was talking about, but slaves were not allowed such protection. Only the free women of the Kingdom Isles wore them, and I was never permitted near the Villas, so my knowledge was quite dependent.

“Let’s find out!” Fish said giving the table a slap. He scooted his chair back aggressively and strode toward the door. He barely committed to sticking his neck out before his head tilted to the left and called with a wave, “You… come here.”

The soft sound of slippered feet drew closer. What. The. Fuck. He couldn’t just ask a woman for her damn gris-gris. Had this child’s mother raised him in a hog pen? He didn’t have a manner one.

“Tarla? That’s your name, no?” he asked, lowering his voice just a bit. His eyes softened and he took the young lady’s hand while gently leading her into the room. She gave a timid nod before her eyes abruptly swung toward Chalice. She snatched up her gown and made a painful display of trying to lower her very pregnant form to the floor.

Chalice’s arm shot out and she started to lift herself from her own chair to stop the woman. Fish placed a sturdying hand to Tarla’s back and lifted the hand he had been holding.

“Our Queen wishes for you not to discomfort yourself on her account, Lady Tarla.” When he used her name with a formal title the girl paled and humbly lowered her head.

“Lady Tarla, fear not,” he bid, tipping her chin back up. “Do you know what this is?”

He reached out but stopped short of touching the gris-gris. She instantly snatched it into her fist and went wide eyed.

“That charm was given to you, to keep you and the baby safe, no?” he gently led.

“Y-y…” the woman was all but trembling and eventually resorted to nodding.

---