A Midsummer's Saga Pt. 06

Suddenly, Valdemar exploded. "We don't even need divine punishment, we bring all of this on ourselves! Look at us! Look at people in the cities, living in comfort for all their days, look at the peasants, thinking only about the next festival, forgetting the gods, avoiding all hardship! This is how it ends! We have exiled courage from this land! We have exiled all our old grit! Our elders are schemers! Our young are sluts, drunkards and wastrels! There is no place for courage or self-sacrifice if you only want to give in to temptations all day! We're ruined! This country needs to be cleansed, cleansed with holy fire, its order destroyed and the old ways restored!"

The other two hurried to contain him a bit, but he kept rambling on about the death of courage and valour and the triumph of gluttony and lust and sloth for about a half hour, before at last he got tired and calmed down, sagging in his chair. The other two glanced at each other, and decided that this was perhaps enough discussion for the day.

*

Gabrielle headed for her chamber to wash her face in cold water, as if she hoped this would wash all the craziness away. She told Mista that she'd be out until sundown again, catching up on her reading, and headed out.

The chapel garden was empty and quiet as usual. She started to wonder why none of the castle denizens ever strolled here. Maybe they were afraid that Valdemar would notice them and chat them up.

She told Aerin all about her day with the soldiers and the monks, except for the spear bit.

"Seems like everyone's getting a bit tense," he remarked.

"Yeah. Not very big fans of Kontarians, either."

"Aww. Do you like Kontarians, at least?"

"They're okay, I guess."

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said."

She smiled and lay down on the grass, closing her eyes.

"I've heard all sorts of crazy stories about Kontaria around here."

"What stories?"

"That you sacrifice children to your gods, for example."

"Why would any god want child sacrifice? The little shits just run around screaming all the time, you don't need that in your divine halls."

"I think there was also something about drinking the blood of virgins."

"That would be gross and not really worth the hassle, if you ask me."

"Also that your men have sex with men and women with women."

"That counts as a crazy story in Harmen?"

She opened her eyes and looked to the sky. It was framed, as always, with Behem's overbearing walls and towers.

"I mean, the Harmeni do the sex part all the time, but you're never supposed to admit it in public. You see, people think it makes men effeminate and women—eh, everyone thinks women are unstable anyways. But that's the issue with this entire shit kingdom. Everyone is scared to death to appear effeminate, or weak, or just, I dunno. Not a gigantic piece of shit. Not sure where did this come from, but it's like this shell that everyone is for some reason wearing."

"You sure you like Harmen all that much?"

"I mean, there are sides of it that are alright. But I'm very far away from them right now. You can survive and thrive here, you just gotta be smart." Or ruthless. She thought of people who have made it. She thought of Titulus, son of a common soldier who was now a general. She thought of Oren, who rose from minor nobility to be the Duke of Haratraz. Gods, the stories they told about that guy! Whole rival families surgically removed from existence, not out of cruelty but just out of cold calculation. Okay, there did exist influential nobles who seemed decent -- the Lady Tessa, whom she met at the capital, for example. But how much agency did she really, truly have? Gabrielle waved her hand. "Anyway, how's the book?"

Aerin shifted on his feet. "I'm going through it. I'm more used to sagas, really."

Gabrielle looked thoughtful. "I've discovered this book in the Great Hall library. There are a lot of them there, and they're surprisingly... decent, diverse. An open, curious mind must have once gathered them. Might mean there was a time when Behem wasn't all that terrible." She picked at the hem of her dress. "Well, there they sit on their shelves, waiting for better times. What's the difference between a book and a saga, anyway?"

"Well, sagas aren't written and read, they're spoken. Or, when done proper, kind of sing-spoken. Like, there's a beat to the words."

"So what, you have to remember them whole?"

"Well, the bards do. Of course, you can also just tell them normal. Everyone knows them, but you can always tweak bits or focus on unexpected things, depending who's listening. That way they're alive, constantly changing."

She sat up. "Aerin, tell me a saga!"

He faltered. "Ah, I wasn't ever a good teller."

There was that predatory smile and that princess glint in her eyes again. "Boy, you owe me! You can get down on the floor, I'll sit here and kick on the bars if anyone's coming."

He shrugged, stepped down and took the stage. "I'm not doing the singing thing, though!" Okay, sagas. What's a good saga for starters? The Saga of the Blue Gemstones, that should do it. Everybody likes that one.

He introduced the setting properly, ancient Kontaria with its supernatural creatures and talking animals and spirits walking upon the earth. He told of the dying sorcerer, and his wish to revenge himself on the world. He went through the story of his hapless acolyte, their struggles against the ruthless warlords of the forest, the trouble caused by the unwise badger, the reproach of the one-eyed bear, the demon disguised as a chicken farmer, the tragedy of the gale, and finally, of the sorcerer's death and the acolyte's escape. When he was finished, it was almost evening. All in all, he thought he did a pretty good job. Gabrielle must have thought so to, because she had barely moved throughout the entire thing.

"Wow," she said. "And you know more of those?"

"Dozens."

"Shit." She was silent for a while. "Well, turns out you can tell sagas perfectly okay."

"Yeah." He jumped to the window and his usual foothold. "I'll tell you more if you'd like. We have eight more days, right?"

"Eight more days." She looked at him thoughtfully. "I'm still figuring out how to get you past Dodo."

"Any progress?"

"Some."

"Okay." He looked at her, and something turned inside him. "Gabrielle, if this whole thing puts you in danger, then don't do it, okay? Just slip me a razor or something, I'll off myself the easy way before Titulus comes."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

He picked at the iron flakes coming off the bars. "I just don't want anyone to take risks for me just because I'm a dumbass who got caught, okay? It fucks me up that everyone is in danger while I'm locked here, useless."

"You are in danger, you moron."

"You know what I mean. I fucked up and yet I'm comfortable here, and eat well, and... I spend time with you, while people who are actually doing their jobs properly are dying in this war."

Oh, fuck's sakes. She propped herself on straight arms and looked up to the clouds. Now that she thought about it, she'd probably be pissed off in his situation too.

"It's your pride that brought you here, isn't it? You wanted to be the great hero of the entire Kontaria who brought home an Eagle of Harmen."

He dug his nail into the flaking bar quite hard.

"I guess."

"You know what an ironic punishment is?"

"A what?"

"You feel guilty because you don't feel punished for your pride? I think that's the most fitting punishment you can take. You just sit here with nothing to be proud of. Your task is to just accept that something good might happen to you without you doing something to deserve it, to kill that self-hate within you. Self-hate is so Harmen, anyway. There. Isn't this a brilliant thought?"

He blinked. "I mean, it's either brilliant or total horseshit. I'll have to think about it."

"Yeah, do."

"I'm provisionally leaning towards total horseshit, though."

She snorted. They were quiet for a while, just enjoying each other's presence. The clouds took on their evening colours, pink and gold and blue. A swallow passed low overhead. The calm of an early summer evening can be felt even in places like Behem.

"I love the sky at this time of day and year," she said.

"I haven't even seen the sky for days."

"What?" she turned to him.

"Yeah, that nook the window's in blocks my view. Also, I can't touch sunlight from here. Even if I reach out like this," he extended his arm all the way, to the grass; she shied away instinctively, "I always miss a couple inches."

"That's shit."

"Isn't it."

She watched his hand, with its long fingers, lying helplessly on the ground. It certainly wasn't reaching any further beyond.

She slid her own hand towards it, and their fingertips touched. He looked up at her, mystified.

"Just a few more days, Aerin." She went further and slowly stroked the outside of his palm, before withdrawing. "Which brings me back, I need to go figure out the whole Dodo thing. I thought I'd wander around the armoury above and the wall to the gatehouse, maybe something will occur to me."

Only now he hazarded to move, drawing his hand back. "Okay. Same time tomorrow?"

"Same time tomorrow, my dirty little slut."

"I'll fucking strangle you."

She laughed. No. No, you wouldn't.

*

She moved freely through all of the castle. If the soldiers found it strange that she had taken a sudden interest in the armoury, inspecting its contents, dimensions, spacing of windows and many other details, they certainly didn't show it.

The room was on the first floor of the massive tower and directly above the dungeon. It contained all sorts of chain and leather armour, bows and crossbows and ammunition, swords, spears, polearms and maces, shields and bucklers, shin pads and wrist guards. What it manifestly did not contain was ideas.

There was a door in there which opened directly to the top of the walls. She walked out and looked over the battlements. Beneath was the deep ditch carved out of the hill and protecting the castle's front; great old trees were swaying in the wind beyond it and below her. The night was making its slow, gentle fall.

She leaned on the crenellations. There simply must be a way to get Aerin past Dodo. Maybe if she dresses up as Paula and imitates her voice and it's pretty dark she can trick Dodo and—

Alright, but let's keep to plans which aren't idiotic as shit.

Maybe she was onto something, though? Maybe instead of tricking Dodo, she should trick Paula or Clement into calling Dodo away for five minutes? Cause some accident that would urgently require Dodo's great strength to fix? But what? Pin Paula to the floor with an iron chandelier dropping from the ceiling? Make an ox sit on Clement?

She thumped her forehead on the stone. It's been such a long day.

Her thoughts started floating.

What if she could get him out of the dungeon early in the night? Maybe she could smuggle him to her chamber for a few hours, before the carts left. She'd like a few hours with him, one on one, very much. If only she could be sure that she could trust him...

She sighed with sad desire and cradled her head inside her bent elbow. She believed, each day more, that he would never to harm her. She believed there was some genuine connection growing between them. He always treated her like an equal, that low-born foreigner prisoner. To him, she was just Gabrielle foremost. He liked her -- seemed to like her -- because he felt they were likeminded, not because of her birth. His attitude was beginning to rub off to her.

When she took him he was tied up, unable to respond to her. What she'd like the most in the world right now was to be with him free, let him do whatever he wants to her, unleash his passion on her, feel him run those hands which she kept avoiding all over her naked body. Wouldn't it be exciting, exhilarating, ecstatic, to just get completely ravished by that boy.

She lifted up her head. She had felt genuine connections growing before, and she had been wrong. It was better not to trust feelings all that much. Besides, this is all theoretical anyway. You still don't know how to get him out.

*

In his long dim hours he thought of her. He thought of them.

He saw that she was afraid of coming near. This saddened him, but he thought he understood. How much connection did they even have, after all?

He'd decided not to bring this up with her. It was, in general, better not risk to upsetting her. Because she was to him more than Gabrielle. She was also his only hope.

He wished she was only Gabrielle. He wished he could talk with her freely, express himself freely, not having to calculate to keep her on his side. It was not that he ever actually had to deceive her so far -- in fact, he was surprisingly at ease genuinely opening up to her, letting her walk around his mind, take a look at his fears. She really seemed to get him, she even made him feel a little better about his insecurities. The whole ironic punishment thing sounded ridiculous, but that was not even the point. He let her see his shame, and she didn't shirk away -- she tried to understand, accepted him, tried to make him feel better. He wished he had more to give back.

But in the midst of all that it was still there, that potential barrier, that implicit insincerity, threatening, lurking silent between their minds.

He just wanted to be alone with her, no ulterior motives, no expected favours. Just he and she, alone, and nothing else in the world.

Well. A boy can dream.

*

Plan fifty-three. Dislodge the wasps' nest from the rafters of the smithy. Throw it into Dodo's room. Lead Aerin out in the ensuing confusion.

This is getting ridiculous. Fuck!

*

"So yeah, I'm kind of stumped," she admitted.

Aerin cocked his head. "We could go with the one where you give me something to pick the lock. And, like, some heavy armour. Maybe I'll overpower him."

"Maybe you'll just punch right through this wall."

"Maybe."

It was late in the afternoon, and they had been talking for a couple hours. Gabrielle had been trying to figure something out for the whole morning -- the monks having decided that she won't be helping in the infirmary, and focusing on her reading instead (young women around soldiers are a way to weaken everyone's moral fibre, anyways). But even with several hours alone in the scriptorium, the problem still defeated her. With time growing shorter and her anxiety higher, she'd decided to turn to Aerin to brainstorm. So far, though, thinking together had brought no results much better than what she was considering alone.

"You don't have any hidden abilities to get past him, do you."

"Let's see, all my life I've been helping out with the fields or with the horses. He's not a horse, so that leaves my agricultural expertise. I was very good at weeding, and also at making scarecrows."

"That's good. If we ever have to fight a flock of very small yet ravenous birds, you'll be the hero of the day."

"Maybe I should talk Dodo into just coming with me. He'd like it in Kontaria. You'd have to order him to talk to me, though."

Gabrielle grimaced. "Well, I'll admit this is a new idea, at least." There is still time, she reminded herself. A whole week. There was no way they wouldn't come up with something, just no way.

Overhead a seagull drifted bright against the sky, heading east. Gabrielle blinked. What business could have brought it this far inland? Why would you be here, above Behem, when you had the free choice to be literally anywhere else in the world? Then she reflected, and touched her pocket.

"I've got something for you, by the way." She reached out and carefully placed near the bars a small flat and round object. He picked it up and examined it, puzzled; it was a hand mirror, in a thin tin frame. "I thought if you held it out at an angle, you could maybe see the sky. Might be silly, but..."

He extended out his hand as far as he could and rotated the mirror. On its surface the lurid stones whizzed past, and where they ended, the endless blue expanse opened. He stared. High above him, far far far away, clouds were floating lightly by. He had almost forgotten the concept of a long distance. The outside great world still existed beyond his dungeon. It was all still there.

Gabrielle sat motionless, observing the intent focus in his eyes. His eyes were themselves like the sky at that moment, she thought, two lit up pieces lost underground.

Eventually he withdrew the mirror, and gave her that broad, teeth-full grin of his.

"Thanks," he said. "That's real nice, actually."

"Yeah. You're welcome."

He leaped to the floor and stepped back from the window, to stretch his ankles. This constant standing on his toes was starting to take a toll on his feet. He was beginning to wonder when will they start to deform to the shape of the gap in the wall. She huddled over to the bars and watched him walk on. Ah, why has fate brought you here, you beautiful boy? Can't it see that this isn't where you belong?

"Hey, Aerin?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you going to do when you get back home?"

He leaned on the hallway grating, considering this. "Well, I'll help out with whatever's left of the war. I'll gloat to Leapfrog that I nailed a princess. And eventually, I'll become a warrior."

"Hopefully without any wars to fight in."

"Yeah. I'd kick too much ass. It'd be unfair." He ignored her look. "What about you? What's going to happen to you?"

She lay on her stomach, chin on intertwined fingers. "They'll have to let me out of here sooner or later. I'm gonna get back to the capital, where I'm gonna live as I had, just more careful this time. And eventually I'm gonna get married off to someone, become a lady of some noble house."

"That sounds shit."

"Sometimes, but not necessarily. I think I'll handle myself pretty well in Harmeni court politics. If you're smart enough, you can do fine. I just hope I'll live in the capital, and not in some shit place like Behem. As long as that happens, I'll manage."

He gave her a good long look. Her eyes were cast to the side, and she was calm now, thoughtful. She seemed at peace with her fate, if unenthusiastic. Yet he remembered that moment when he'd looked deep into her, when passion brought her guard down, when through her naked body he thought he felt her spirit revealed, a spirit unyielding, free and affectionate. Would she find any happiness in the life she described? She jutted her jaw forward and grazed her upper lip with her lower teeth, mulling over her own reflections. She was so beautiful to him right then, so fascinating.

"It would be such a waste for you to become an ordinary noble lady somewhere."

"Would it? What should I become then, in your opinion?"

"An evil queen."

She laughed. That boy. "You know what, with your muscle and my brain, we could collaborate. We'll conquer ourselves our own tiny kingdom by the sea. You'll be the army, I'll do the evil ruling."

He drummed his fingers on the iron bars. "Awesome. Seems like a complete country to me, all basics covered."

"Until we starve to death."

"Ah, but you forget I more or less know how to plant you a vegetable garden! Also I can swim, like the dolphins can swim. I'll dive and catch fish and shrimp, for our kingdom by the sea."

Her eyes brightened. She leaned forward and wove one of her hands in through the window, fingers resting freely on the cell's wall. "I can see it now. You'll come back with baskets of the stuff at sundown. I'll lick the salt off your skin, and no business of the state will ever get done, because of all the fucking that will get in the way." She shifted her legs. Great, now he got her to think of his naked body. Her abdomen tensed from the inside.

He licked his teeth. "Gods, you really are good at this politics stuff."