24: What Say The Lady?

VASILEIOS

A few more hours. I thought as I wiped the longsword’s blade on a cloth, the blood coming away from the steel cleanly. The criminal’s head had easily fallen from my executioner’s block—It stared at me, slightly twitching as the prisoner’s mind finally accepted death. I kicked it towards the trough that lay in from the platform, and it unceremoniously thudded on top of the bodies that lay there, all just part of my day’s work. My attendants, also hooded, grabbed the body by the shoulders and let it follow after its head. There had been so many executions in the short time I had been here that I wondered if my king had ordered them just for my punishment. I reached towards the fabric hood. I wore its coarse fabric which was a constant annoyance and let a bit of air in around my neck.

The combination of the Summer sun, my garb, and the many torches around the wooden platform in the middle of the prison courtyard had my brow dripping with sweat. I reach a hand under the mask and rubbed the gruff bit of beard on my chin. I tried in vain to wipe the salty perspiration from my face in vain. Giving up, I remind myself it’s my last day at Eleutheria. For a word that means freedom, this prison is a disgusting pit of suffering. I should be glad I get to leave it, that I’m not sentenced to rot in one of these cells. I think I would welcome the executioner’s sword if I was trapped here. The whole prison stinks of death.

My attention turns as the guards retrieve my next victim. A young male fae, unlike the previous criminals sentenced to die today, he was noble-born. His clothing finer, his posture more regal. His golden blond hair fell loosely in waves just over his ears. I could see they’d stripped him of many rings from the tan lines on his hands before bringing him to the block. He’d been worked over, though. His tanned skin was mottled with green and purple bruising. Dried blood flaked off his chin and stained his blue robes. The burning heart sigil on those robes was barely visible.

“On this day, before the lords and attendants of Eleutheria Prison, and as judgment handed down by Summer king Orthus of house Helios, you Lord Ares of house Onasis, of the minor courts of Summer, are hereby sentenced to die.” The guards forced him to kneel in front of my block. I sharped the edge of my blade on honing steel as they spoke. “On the charge of kidnapping and the defilement of Lady Calista of house Vitalis. The king has found you guilty on all counts.” Lord Ares’s brown eyes fell at the mention of the woman’s name. I approached my mark and began my routine, as If I was the main player in a grim theater production.

“Look at me,” I told the fae male. He breathed deeply before meeting my gaze. I searched his eyes, hoping to see behind them the same sickness that afflicted my brother. Maybe I could pretend this blonde head belonged to Orthus before cleaving it clean from his neck. I frowned underneath my hood, pretending is what I had come to now. I would never hold the power to change the king. “Any last words?” I asked for the tenth time today. I didn’t usually listen to what they said, but it was a required grace I had to allow them. When they spoke I would remove myself from that platform that roasted in the hot summer sun. I would fantasize that Orthus was gone—Dead, never existed, or in prison, it didn’t matter to me. I would picture Cordelia safe, and maybe I would even be able to get her back to her family. I still struggled with the idea she would give them up, no matter the time shift. Maybe it’s because I was a bastard. I couldn’t ever remember wanting anything more than family. I had some family, but I wanted something less tainted than my brother. Ares spoke, ripping my daydream from me.

“She asked me to take her. We’re in love; I’d do it again if I had the chance to keep her safe. I will go happily into death knowing I tried.” He pulled his shoulders back and gave me a look that acknowledged his fate. I turned towards the Lord of the prison.

“Where lies the crime? What say the Lady?” I boomed. The Lord of the prison scoffed at me.

“Lady Calista is betrothed to another! He had no right to ta—“ I cut the portly fae off.

“What say the lady?” I growled at prison lord. He tried to hide his shudder but did so unconvincingly. He was a weak male. I wondered what embarrassment had caused him this lowly position.

“Our king has decreed this males death. What should the thoughts of Lady Calista matter now?” The prison lord tapped his foot impatiently. “Get on with it.” Ares knit his brows together and looked between myself and the prison lord as we spoke.

“She is with me. We are in love. She is always with me.” He took his chained hands and put them on his heart.

“Is this true?” I snapped at the prison lord. He stared at me in distaste but eventually nodded. “I will not kill this male. I cannot punish someone wanting to keep their mate safe.” The prison lord let out a guffaw, his face flustered and red.

“But the king has decreed it, and we have no choice.” The prison lord fidgeted with agitation at my refusal—his hands gestured wildly. I removed my hood, the anonymity of the executioner’s costume working against me. I knew the prison lord knows who I am and that I am here, but maybe he needs reminding. Freeing my head from its stifling cowl I smile and wipe the sweat from my brow.

“I will deal with my brother.” As if emboldened by the hood, he won’t make eye contact with me as it’s removed. I turn again toward Ares. “Swear to me your words are true.” He looks shocked. He must recognize me.

“I swear it. I do nothing that isn’t for Calista. She is my heart.” I believe this male when he speaks. I see nothing of my brother. I see myself.

“Which is your sword hand?” I ask him. In confusion, he raises his right palm towards me. “Lay your left hand on the block. I will not kill you, but I will let my brother and our courts know you were punished. Even though you love Lady Calista it’s a theft all the same.” Realization comes over Ares’s face. He nods, and a flash of worry crosses his eyes before he braces himself and places his left wrist on my block. The long sword swings and lands heavily down on his joint, hewing his hand cleanly from his arm. Ares screams in pain as I dip my blade into one of the nearby torches that line the platform. The steel glows molten hot in the fire. I turn back towards to mewling golden lord and grab his damaged arm. I press the hot blade metal to his bleeding wound, cauterizing it. The stump smokes and sizzles and my stomach roils. I find no pleasure in this. He might hate me now, but he will realize this was kindness in due time. I doubt they’ll allow him a healer here, and with this act, he’ll be less prone to infection and blood loss. Ares goes slack against me, losing consciousness from the pain. I turn toward the guards after I’m satisfied with my cauterizing.

“Take him back to a guest room, not a cell. Send him home tomorrow morning with a pardon.” They look towards the angry prison lord and back at me. He might be in charge here at Eleutheria, but I’m in charge of the entirety of the Summer army, which they belong to. They heed me, if only a little hesitantly, and drag him back towards the building. I turn towards the frustrated prison lord. “I’ll take my leave tonight, my brother. Your king bids me back before the solstice.” He nods and turns, stomping back towards the prison. “Fetch a squire, won’t you?” I taunt him as he leaves.

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The sun sets at my back as I ride my steed at breakneck speeds. This has been the longest week of my entire life. No matter how often I retreated into my mind and thought of Cordelia, I worry that some harm has befallen her. After my outbursts at my brother, I know I will need to put on a better show to keep her safe. I can’t be sent away again. I can find a way to work this plan without facing his retribution. It might kill me to keep my distance from her, but I can do it if it means she’s safe. I can protect her from afar as long as I’m able to be at the Summer estate.

I know Nelo will do her best too. I pray to the goddess I can find some way to explain my begging to Nelo. She’s not stupid. I know that she knows our Brother isn’t as benevolent as he might seem to others. I don’t know if I can be the one to destroy him in her eyes. He still keeps a kindness for her in his black heart, and I think part of that comes from Circe’s sacrifice. I won’t take any happiness away from my chosen sister—I can’t do it to her.

My horse’s hooves pound furiously as we make haste towards the Summer estate. The Inanis sea’s lifeless waters crash to my right. I follow along the coastline for a bit, enjoying the waves spray after spending a week under that hood. I think of Ares. I could steal Cordelia away from it all. Would it even be any safer for her? Would I be dooming her to a life on the run? Would she even go with me? I wouldn’t kidnap her. She hasn’t had many choices in her life here. I won’t take another choice away from her.

She’d never trust me enough to leave. So I’ll stay.