Episode 44

The system of power turns like wheel

You can rise to the top through money or steel

You could lift up others or leave them in muck

But it’s the poor who will suffer when the wheel becomes stuck

If the problems aren’t met with any solution

The wheel must turn in bloody revolution

The vermin will rise as the predator sinks

Let’s see then if the fox can outsmart the lynx

Lilian felt the ocean spray on her face as the ship’s bough crashed against the waves. With each passing mile they travelled south, the sun became hotter and so the cool spray was a welcome relief. From this position she could look out and see only sky and sea. Blue on blue, with the former peppered occasionally by cotton clouds, like the white crests of the waves below only so much slower to rise and fall. Lilian turned to look back at the ship. She was the Swift Stag, a merchant vessel that ran goods between major ports up and down the western coast. Her captain, a large dark man with a cheerful character by the name of Giddeon Terne, was nearby chatting and laughing with two of the crew. Lilian reminded herself to thank him before she got off the boat at Zandt. He only had room for two passengers, and those beds had already been booked and paid for. However, after a heartfelt plea from Lilian which hinted at her predicament with the law, he had agreed to take them on the journey, provided they kept out of trouble. This was a return trip and there was always extra room below deck on a return trip.

As she stood and watched the crew mingle and work about the deck, she felt a familiar ache in her forearm. She rubbed it, absentmindedly. It still hadn’t fully healed since that fight in the Weardian Captain’s office. That had been three weeks ago now, yet the memory of it all was still very close, kept fresh by her bodies’ constant painful reminders. The days that followed the fight were a little hazy. She remembered waking up in Katrina’s spare room and seeing Mr Attorcop safe and smiling. They had talked a little about what had happened and Lilian saw that the money she had stolen was safe and hidden. But she did not see Mr Attorcop again for at least a week. She was kept fed and happy during her recovery by Katrina and her son Peter. It was them that came up with the plan for Lilian to leave the city. Wanted posters, similar to the ones that had been made for Mr Attorcop, were now appearing within the city walls and even though only a small militia loyal to the Empress was left to enforce them, they still made Freedos a dangerous place for Lilian and Fritha to live. Katrina needed supplies from Zandt and so she paid for the passage and sent her son along to make sure the materials she needed were of high quality. Once enough time had passed, they could return to the city and the populace will have moved on to some other dangerous fascination.

“It’s about time you both travelled a bit more anyway,” she had said, “that’s what being young is all about. Seeing Alicium while you’re still able to fall asleep comfortably on a hay bale.” And so it was decided. Mr Attorcop had bade them goodbye a few days ago after he had accompanied them down to the river dock just outside the city walls during the night. The Swift Stag liked to leave early to catch the tide.

“There are enough crowns in your bag to pay for accommodation and supplies. I’ve also split our remaining lunar essence and packed the vile for you.” He had whispered hurriedly on the dock.

“Did you pack the earth?” Lilian had asked. She had not been able to go anywhere to fetch her belongings.

“I did, although I’m not sure why you’d need it.” She had requested some of the earth that Mr Attorcop had brought back from the demon forest, but she didn’t want to tell him why. Truth was, she had an idea but she wanted to test it out before telling anyone about it. They had hugged and Fritha had drooled on his nice shoes and before she knew it, Lilian had sailed down the river and was out in open waters, travelling south against the rising sun.

At that moment, Peter appeared from below. His head popped up through the hole in the deck and swiveled about until it found Lilian. He smiled and hoisted himself up. Fritha followed him, scrambling up the wooden steps. Those two had become good friends during Lilian’s recovery. Peter smiled, his mop of sandy hair flitting in the breeze and Fritha lolloped unsteadily towards her. Watching the feinhound navigate her way around the boat was funny but Lilian always felt a pang of guilt for laughing when watching the forest dwelling legend slip and slide across the wet wood. The sailors had been unsure about Fritha but thankfully their captain was a worldly fellow who knew such encounters to be rare and therefore treasured.

“Morning Lily.”

“Hi Peter, Hi lady.” Fritha’s tail was wagging so much that Peter had to move out of her way to avoid being struck over and over. Lilian looked up at the boy after giving Fritha a hug. He was three years older than her and was maybe a head taller. He had not spoken much when they’d first met, but since getting to know her he had come out of his shell and turned out to be hiding a fierce intellect as well as a wicked sense of humour. Ever since his mother had disappeared from sight waving them off on the dock, his face had been fixed in a permanent cheeky grin, as if comedic malice was always right around the corner. His eyes were shining in that way now and so Lilian grew suspicious.

“What have you done?” she asked, expecting to see a sailor rush out of the cabin with an octopus on his head or something.

“Wha- nothing!” he replied. Lilian raised her eyebrows in an accusatory stare. She couldn’t believe that she had to be the sensible one on this trip. “I’m serious,” he said and then looked over his shoulder to check if anyone was nearby. Seeing the captain and his two crew members he leant forward and lowered his voice. “Well, I did see one of the passengers below deck last night.” Lilian raised her eyebrows again, this time, in surprise. The identities of the booked passengers had become a source of gossip on board. They rarely left their rooms and each time they did, Lilian had been somewhere else. She knew it was a man and a woman, but she did not know their relationship or indeed, anything else about them.

“Really?” she asked, “which one?” Fritha licked the back of her hand, which was salty from the spray. Peter glanced over his shoulder.

“The man. He was older than I thought he would be. Definitely the oldest on board.”

“A merchant?” asked Lilian. Peter frowned and shrugged his shoulders.

“Hard to say.” Lilian smiled and chuckled a little. “What’s with you?” Peter asked.

“Nothing. Are we really so bored that seeing an old man is now considered gossip?” Peter cracked a wide grin.

“Ha! Yeah. What does that say about us eh? We’ll be lucky to have any personalities left by the time we reach Zandt.” Lilian turned back around and gazed out to the open ocean.

“Did you say you’d been there before?”

“Once,” replied Peter, leaning on the taffrail beside her, “It was a few years ago now though.”

“What’s it like?” Lilian asked.

“I don’t remember much of the actual streets, but the temple is beautiful, I remember that.” Lilian cocked her head,

“Temple?”

“Oh yeah, you can’t miss it. It’s huge and looks over the entire city. It’s got golden columns that reflect the sun at dawn. They’re really into the sun, the Zandtians, the Zandtites? I dunno, whatever. The sun, good food oh and birds.” Lilian’s smile faded a little. Hearing someone talk about the sun brought her back to that day again, lying in the street, bleeding and watching Zadoch Korshid walk calmly into the Weardian head quarter, as if he was about to ask for directions and not… well, do what he did.

“Are you okay?” Peter caught the change in her mood, he was good at reading her like that.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You thinking about Zadoch?” Lilian nodded.

“What’s going to happen to him?” she asked. Peter scrunched up his face in thought.

“Well, I heard he was being detained, but that won’t last long. He’s a holy solar pator so he could just walk out of any prison he was put in. The real question is: what’s going to happen to Katherine?” Lilian felt suddenly very worried, her friend hadn’t visited her at the rare flower market during her recovery but Mr Attorcop had said he was doing all he could to protect her. She hadn’t really known what that had meant.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Peter slowed his speech and lost his jovial tone, “she was the one who asked for his help. Technically a Pator cannot act unless they are helping someone, so the question is: Will Catherine go to the tower for asking Zadoch to help her, or will Zadoch be punished some other way for… doing what he did.” Neither of them dared name the act out loud, lest the memory attracted similar disasters. Lilian’s mind was not letting her forget though, the feeling of the heat on her face. The smell, the fires… the screams. She shook herself out of the memory and went back to idle gossip.

“So! Who is the mystery woman then? Hm?” Peter smiled and Fritha chimed a happy bell. The sea stretched out to the horizon and the taste of new adventures seasoned its salty spray.

It took another two days for them to catch their first glance of her. That morning, the Swift Stag had reached the estuary of the river Shikra and turned its sails inland. The trip had been blessed with good weather and they would be arriving at Zandt within the day. The shoreline had been sandy beaches and tall dunes for some time but now that they were approaching the river, Lilian had begun to see tall trees and thick patches of coarse grass. The Shikra, she knew from her studies with Mr Attorcop, was the only source of fresh water in this part of the world. It was the blood of the region, giving life to the flora and fauna on its banks and allowing trade ships access to the various settlements. It was so important to people’s survival that most towns and cities made polluting it a punishable offence. All waste was buried deep in the desert that sandwiched the river on both sides. Zandt was the largest of these settlements and it would take them another four or five hours of sailing upriver to reach it. Thankfully the river was wide and calm and so sailing up it wasn’t too difficult. In case the current ever did get too strong though there were several stations peppered along the banks that provided ropes and oxen to pull the ships along. Lilian was looking at one of them now. There were six enormous oxen all grazing lazily around an enclosed paddock. A man, presumably their keeper, was sitting in the sun, his shirt off and his hat over his eyes. Not a bad life, she thought as she saw one of his oxen sniff his hat and then lick his ear, causing him to wake with a start. Fritha was somewhere below deck, sleeping off a bout of sea sickness and Peter was at the helm studying the helmsman’s technique in navigating the tricky transition from ocean to river. Behind her, she heard an unfamiliar clip clop of heeled shoes on wooden deck boards. She didn’t turn around right away, doing so would answer the riddle of who the strange female passenger was, and Lilian wanted to keep the mystery alive just a little longer. She was standing on the port side and she heard whoever she was walking past behind her and up towards the bough. Lilian heard the ruffle of expensive skirts and inhaled a sweet smelling perfume. Whoever she was, she had money, and her presence felt out of place amongst the rough sailors and semi-stowaways like herself. Lilian smiled at the thought of telling Peter about her brush with the mystery woman.

As the ship hit the line where the waves met the river the wood beneath her lurched and Lilian had to steady herself. After catching her balance she looked up and found that she was staring directly into the eyes of the mystery woman. She was just a few feet away and looking at Lilian with an expression of shock and anger on her face. It took Lilian a few seconds to place the young woman’s face but when she did similar feelings began to rise up inside of her.

“You!” Both women shouted the word at the same time and threw up accusatory fingers at each other like dueling gentlemen. There was a tense silence whilst they glowered at each other, all the social niceties having been left behind in the city.

“What is an annoying country bumpkin like you doing on my ship?” said Serena Bellaswan, her bright, brown eyes gleaming in the morning sun. Lilian narrowed her gaze and tried to stop herself from saying something too harsh. A task which she failed instantly,

“You arrogant, entitled princess. First of all, I’m allowed to be here, I paid for passage and I can go wherever I like. Secondly, this isn’t your ship, it’s Gideon’s.” Lilian faltered for a second, realising that a ship could have a captain and an owner and that they could be two different people. Thankfully, Miss Bellaswan didn’t correct her.

“Just when I thought this trip couldn’t get any more awful, now I’m forced to spend the day with this ginger rube.” The young noblewoman hitched up her pale pink travelling skirt and turned on her heel. Lilian was fuming. She marched after her, determined to have the last word.

“Um, excuse me, but it’s not like my day just got brighter knowing that I’ll have to spend it looking at your sour face.” Miss Bellaswan spoke over her shoulder,

“Well no one is forcing you my dear. Besides, last time I checked you were the one following me.” Lilian stopped in her tracks and clenched her fists into tight balls. She let out a sound of frustration, half grunt, half scream. No one had ever managed to irritate her like Serena Bellaswan. She spun around and decided to go below deck to find Fritha. Perhaps she could persuade her to bite the young heiress on the bum. That would be quite delightful.

For the rest of the journey, Lilian avoided Miss Bellaswan as best she could, going above deck when she came below, and moving to the starboard side if she saw that Serena was on the port. For the most part it worked and the two young women managed to avoid each other despite the size of the vessel. Lilian enjoyed looking out into the trees, which by now had grown to be the size of houses and were thickly packed together. The river was essentially surrounded by a jungle and the heat, when mixed with the lush greenery and ample river water created a wet and humid atmosphere. Lilian found that her sweat began to stick around and within a matter of hours, everyone on board looked like they’d just jumped in the river for a cooling dip. A prospect which grew more attractive to Lilian by the minute. Occasionally, she would catch sight of a dune through the trees. A grim reminder of the sandy graveyard that met anyone or anything that left the safety of the river. Mr Attorcop had said that the desert was home to a few nomadic tribes, but several years could pass between sightings of them. They spoke their own language, had their own customs and survived by harvesting moisture from the air. Lilian was wondering if she might meet any of these tribal people while in Zandt when a spot on the horizon caught her eye. It was a bright light on the top of a hill. It was similar to the lights she would see reflected off the lakes down in the valley on a bright day in Benlunar. Only this light did not flicker or change. She heard footsteps approaching behind her and turned around to see Peter.

“Is that…?” she asked, pointing up to the hill.

“The temple? Sure is. Doesn’t look like much from here but we’ll do the hike one day and you can see it up close.” Lilian smiled. She was looking forward to that. Suddenly, she glanced down and noticed that Peter was holding a pink hat with a wide brim.

“Is that…?” she gestured to it.

“Oh! Yeah I forgot to say. I met the other passenger! She’s a young woman called Serena…”

“Bellaswan.” Lilian finished his sentence. Peter looked shocked.

“You met her too?” Lilian grumbled something by way of reply. Peter went on, “Isn’t she lovely? The bow on her hat had come unstuck so I offered to fix it for her.” Lilian rolled her eyes. Suddenly, as if her ears had been burning, Serena Bellaswan appeared from below deck. She glanced about, saw Peter and smiled, then she saw Lilian and her smile disappeared.

“Peter darling,” she said as she climbed up onto the deck and approached them, “I don’t suppose you have my hat? Oh look!” she smiled broadly, flashing teeth as bright as the light on the hill behind her, and took the hat from Peter, “It looks wonderful, thank you ever so much. How can I repay you?” Her golden curls bobbed in time with the boat and Lilian found herself infuriated to see that even in this humidity, not a single hair was out of place. Lilian had caught sight of her reflection in the river just now and she looked as though a pigeon had made a nest on her head.

“No need Miss Bellaswan, it was my pleasure.” said Peter, “The flaw was quick to fix, tis a fine… bonnet.” Lilian looked at him, confused. Why was he changing the way he spoke? His posture had changed as well, he was standing up straight and grinning like an idiot. Miss Bellaswan looked between him and Lilian.

“Peter my dear, do you know this… person?” Lilian snorted irritably. Apparently, Peter was oblivious to the tension between them.

“This is my friend Lilian, we’re travelling to Zandt to escape oof!” Lilian elbowed him sharply in the side. Peter shot her a hurt look. Mouthy twit, thought Lilian. Miss Bellaswan arched a single eyebrow.

“Well once we’re in Zandt feel free to come and find me. We’re staying at the Thorn and Paw, near the base of the hill.” Peter quickly forgot about the pain in his side and nodded emphatically at the offer.

“I will miss, I - I hear the tea rooms in that quarter are delightful. Perhaps we could visit one together?” Miss Bellaswan smiled obsequiously.

“It’s a date. And do feel free to come… alone” Peter bowed and she walked past him, briefly touching his shoulder as she went. Once out of his eyeline, she turned to shoot Lilian a look of haughty self satisfaction. It made Lilian’s blood boil. Once she was gone, Lilian looked back to Peter and thumped him on the arm.

“Ow!” he protested.

“‘We’re here to escape’” Lilian parroted him, wobbling her head in mockery, “fool.”

“Yeah, er, sorry about that. She’s… disarming.” Lilian curled her lip and went back to looking upriver. She could see a few brightly coloured rooftops in the distance and the river seemed to be widening. Suddenly, Captain Gideon called for all hands from the helm and Lilian knew they were close to the docks.

The city of Zandt overwhelmed the senses of all who visited. The squat houses stretched out into the distance like a sprawling jigsaw where all the pieces had been forced to fit together. Most of them were white and square with dark little holes in the walls for windows. Some were painted blue or yellow or orange, giving the sea of whiteness an occasional splash of colour. As the Swift Stag pulled into the dock they had to navigate around a myriad of other vessels. Small wide bottomed ferries, larger sea faring trawlers and even the occasional trade ship like theirs. As the ropes were thrown down to the dock hands and the boarding plank was being safely put into place, Lilian skipped between port and starboard sides to look at all the activity around her. Fritha joined her, happily wagging her tail, thinking this was some kind of game. Lilian’s cheeks ached from smiling. She looked overboard to see two long black punt boats overflowing with different coloured fruit. Fruit she had never seen before and that she did not even know the names of. They had come from upriver and would occasionally be hailed down by city citizens on the banks. Lilian inhaled deeply and took in the sweet smoky smell wafting on the breeze from the harbour market. The people mostly wore long and flowing garments which were meant to keep them cool in the sun. Almost everyone wore something to cover their head, usually a wrap or a cotton scarf dyed in bright blues and greens. There was music coming from somewhere not too far away, lending a jovial accompaniment to the hubbub of the bustling crowds. Overseeing everything was the temple on the mount, which Lilian had learned was called the Simurgh. The sun had long past its zenith so the reflection from the golden columns was not quite so bright as it had been on their approach to the city.

She turned to see Peter waiting for her between the boarding plank and Captain Terne. A few of the crew had already disembarked and it seemed as though the captain wanted to be the last to leave. He smiled as Lilian and Fritha approached.

“A calm and quiet journey, surely thanks to you and your friend my lady.” said the sailor, gesturing down towards Fritha. Lilian shook her head.

“It was all down to you and your crew Captain, we could not have wished for safer hands to carry us south.” This seemed to please him greatly and he bowed low in thanks.

“Well since this was so successful, I hope you will be joining us again on your return journey? Sailors are superstitious folk so convincing the crew shouldn’t be so hard now that they’ve seen what luck you both can bring.” Lilian looked at Peter and smiled.

“We should like that very much, Captain Terne, thank you.” said the young lad. Lilian noticed the captain glancing down at Fritha, a curious look in his eyes.

“Would you like to stroke her?” she asked. The captain’s face lit up.

“My lady, only if I may.” Lilian giggled and reached into her pocket for a sour berry.

“Of course! Here, give her one of these and she’ll love you forever.” She handed it to him and he took it with great care. Fritha had already smelled it and was eagerly following its journey from hand to hand. The seasoned sailor bent down low and held his left hand out for Fritha to smell. As he opened it to reveal the berry, he touched her neck with his right hand. Fritha’s coat was currently a deep emerald green, like the ocean. His eyes widened as he saw it change colour to match his skin tone where he touched it.

“Remarkable…” he whispered under his breath. Lilian smiled, she loved seeing how people reacted when they saw Fritha up close.

Suddenly, the sounds of raised voices caught her attention. The captain heard them as well, and stood up to see what was going on. On the harbour floor, just before the slick boards met the sandy flagstones of the market, an argument was breaking out. Lilian squinted to see, lifting her hand to her brow to block out the sun. She tutted and mumbled under her breath,

“What’s she doing now?” Serena Bellaswan was raising her voice and stamping her foot in front of a tall man dressed in a dark, traditional robe. He wore a dark red wrap on his head and a stern expression on his face.

“Captain Terne, thank you for everything, we’ll find you again to arrange our return.” The captain smiled in understanding and bid them farewell.

It felt fantastic to have solid ground beneath her feet again, Fritha had been so excited she practically leaped down the boarding plank. Lilian had no time to savour the sensation though as Serena’s altercation was drawing the attention of a small crowd. Peter was marching close behind, they both carried their travel bags over their shoulders and Lilian was quickly beginning to realise why everyone wore baggy clothes and covered their heads. The heat was oppressive, like the hottest summer day in Benlunar but without any wind or chance of rain. They reached Serena in just a few seconds. The argument was reaching its climax and for the first time ever, Lilian thought she saw a single hair out of place on Serena’s forehead. The other passenger, the older man, was also there. He was apparently part of Serena’s travelling retinue, a guide or relative of some kind to ensure her safety and attend to her wellbeing. At that moment, he was standing off to one side looking sheepish beside her two large travelling trunks. Lilian let Peter step ahead of her, preferring to assess the situation before stepping in.

“Miss Bellaswan?” he said, meekly, and she spun round quickly, turning her ire on him. Her face softened a little when she saw who was speaking, but she still looked furious. “Is everything alright?”

“Peter dearest, everything is NOT alright. This ‘gentleman’ has just informed me that our residence won’t be ready for another two days! Where am I supposed to keep my things? Where am I supposed to sleep!?” Peter turned to the man.

“Can nothing be done?” The tall, imposing Zandtian folded his arms and shrugged. For the first time since they’d seen him from the deck of their ship, his expression softened a little.

“It’s hard to say,” his voice was gravelly and he spoke in a thick regional accent, “It is not my fault, huh? There is still a family in the house. Perhaps they could be persuaded to leave early…” He waved his hands in an odd, suggestive manner. Lilian didn’t quite understand the mannerism but Peter seemed to catch on. He turned back to them and lowered his voice.

“I’m not one hundred per cent, but I think he might be asking for a bribe…” A look of understanding fell upon Serena’s face. She had dealt with this kind of thing before. The look didn’t stay long however, as it quickly turned back to anger.

“I have been cooped up on a smelly ship for over a week. All I want is a bath, a tea and a bed. If you cannot give me that right this instant,” she stamped her foot, addressing the serious man in front of them, “then I’m sure there are plenty of other inn’s, guest houses or hotels that can accommodate us…” with that, she hitched up her skirt and looked ready to walk away when her travelling companion, the older man that had been on the ship with them interrupted her.

“Miss, the accommodation has been arranged and… paid for in advance. Your mother…” Serena let out an exasperated groan.

“URRGH! Fine!” She began reaching into the folds of her skirt, Lilian guessed she had a hidden pocket there where she kept her purse. “How much are we thinking, hm? Four bits? Six, seven?” Peter put a hand on her arm and stopped her.

“Hold on,” he said and turned back to the man, “Sir, please. I’m sure if the rooms are pleasant and the service is good then a reward at the end of the trip will suffice. We have travelled far and my friend needs a…” Suddenly, the man, having seen Serena reach for her purse and expecting an imminent prize, placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder and in one swift movement, shoved him aside. Peter stumbled. The move hadn’t been quite enough to knock him over, but it was far too forceful to be considered friendly.

Lilian had stepped forward as soon as the man had raised his hand above waist height. She stood between him and Serena with a serious look on her face.

“Please don’t touch my friend,” she said softly, trying to keep her anger in check. For the first time since leaving Freedos she wished she still had Kissandra’s blade with her. The assassin had come to collect it during Lilian’s recovery as part of the deal for the information she’d given on the Weardian headquarters. The man stood two heads taller than Lilian and scowled at her, annoyed at the interruption.

“This is business, child. Step out of the way.” He went to lift his hand up again to move her aside, just like he had done with Peter, but Lilian was ready. She brought her right hand up to block his wrist, the impact sent a pang of pain through her injured arm, but she didn’t care. In a flash she had his hand in a lock and twisted it round and back causing the man to wince. Holds like these were easy to block in a fight, but if they caught you by surprise, there was little you could do to break loose. The man choked on his breath as Lilian brought him slowly down to his knees. Fritha was there waiting for him, becoming visible just in time for him to see her dagger sharp teeth bared and slowly approaching his neck. Lilian saw his eyes widen in terror as Fritha’s jaws opened. She spoke softly,

“My friend can move into her residence today, correct?” The man resisted for a second, but Lilian twisted his arm an inch further. He let out a high pitched sound before nodding emphatically. Lilian let him go and he stood up quickly, rubbing his arm and attempting to fix his wounded pride. If looks could kill then Lilian would have been dead ten times over. Without a sound, he grabbed one of Serena’s travelling trunks and mumbled,

“Welcome to Zandt.”