Chapter 30

Anseyla and Jabbit were heading westward through Sanjaba. Kuwasi had told them of a beautiful lagoon with bright, sandy beaches just a few leagues beyond the capital. As soon as the pair was out of sight and hearing-range to the others, Anseyla smiled and took Jabbit’s hand.

“Now we look like a couple in love,” she proclaimed.

Jabbit looked up from their entwined hands into her hazel eyes and asked, “Do you want to disguise who we are?”

She batted her eyelashes. “No. I want to seduce you to fall in love with me, my Lord.”

“Really?” Jabbit asked, sounding surprised. The surprise faded and was replaced by a thoughtful look. “How will I know if you succeed in seducing me?”

“You’ll know when you can’t live without me anymore. I’ll become as necessary to you as the air you breathe.”

Holding hands, they walked on in silence. Anseyla was smiling and Jabbit looked thoughtful.

“I think I know what you mean,” he said a little while later. “But why do you want to be so important to me?”

“Because of my mother,” she immediately answered. “I was always envious of her. Many rich men, nobles, and even kings fell hopelessly in love with her - but never a god. If I can make you fall in love with me, I don’t have to be jealous anymore.”

“I understand,” Jabbit said after a few moments of contemplative silence. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Anseyla laughed. “You want to help me seduce you?”

“Yes, I think I’d like you to seduce me,” he answered.

She laughed out again but then looked closely at his face. “You aren’t kidding, are you?”

He shook his head. “No, I would like to fall in love with you.”

“Jabbit, you know I love Sybelien,” she stated earnestly. “Why would you want to be hopelessly in love with me?”

Jabbit smiled. “Rich men, nobles, and kings may hopelessly fall in love but I’ll never be hopeless. Breathing and air aren’t as important to me as they are for other men; I don’t die without them. I don’t die at all.”

Anseyla looked up at the sunny sky and groaned. “Please; forget I said anything.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, I won’t forget what you said,” he clarified and displayed his newly learned grin - the evil one.

“Bastard!”

“Yes.”

After they had left Sanjaba, they followed a small road which led through a pinewood and beyond was the lagoon. The lagoon was separated from the ocean by a spit of land and a coral reef. The headland was high and steep and its rugged slopes covered by plants and trees. The beach was a band of fine white sand and the water an azure-blue. The place was as beautiful as Kuwasi had promised it would be and also as secluded. The only other visitor was a man out on a boat.

Anseyla and Jabbit took off their sandals and walked barefoot along the beach. Still holding hands, they left behind two long and closely entwined lines of footprints in the fine white sand. They reached a rickety wooden jetty where the man who had been out on the boat before was now unloading his catch. Carrying a net full of oysters on his shoulder, he walked the jetty toward them. It was an old man. The dark skin of his face looked like old, wrinkled leather. He had only a few teeth left in his mouth but still managed a toothy smile.

“Good day to you, my Lord and Lady,” the old man greeted.

“A good day to you as well,” Jabbit replied. “But I’m not a lord.”

“Every man with such a beautiful woman by his side is a lord,” the old man answered with his toothy grin.

Anseyla smiled at the fisherman. “You are a wise man,” she praised and then looked at Jabbit. “It’s funny; you never correct me when I call you my lord.”

“That is true,” Jabbit conceded, thoughtfully. “I like it when you call me my lord.”

The old man burst out laughing.

Still chuckling, he sat down on the end of the jetty. He opened his net and took out a few oysters. “You made me laugh. Let’s eat a few fresh oysters; they are my gift in return.”

“Thank you,” Jabbit said.

He and Anseyla sat down next to the old man.

“The lady first,” the fisherman said.

He took a knife and opened an oyster. Startled, he paused for a moment but then he smiled and showed the open oyster to Anseyla. The big white pearl inside the oyster was a bit slimy but still a shining sight.

“You are a lucky woman,” the old man congratulated.

Anseyla stared at the shiny pearl, and then at Jabbit. Her eyes turned into slits as she slowly tapped her lips with the tip of her forefinger. She looked until Jabbit smiled at her.

“I sure am lucky but I’m also really smart,” she told the fisherman. “Keep this pearl; I want the pearl inside the shell you will open for my Lord.”

The old man’s eyes widened in response to Anseyla’s choice. He took another oyster, opened it and gasped. The largest pearl he had ever seen was inside the shell - and it was a black pearl.

In a flash, Anseyla’s nimble fingers snatched the pearl out of the old man’s stare.

“That’s mine!” She squealed, giggling happily. She spun around, wrapped her arms around Jabbit’s neck and kissed him. “Thank you, my Lord,” she breathed in his ear before she kissed him again.

Anjatta var Dosha left the palace and, as she passed the bridges to leave King’s Island, she noted the ill soldiers were gone. At The Fangs, she asked for Sallas Kharjos, the officer who had escorted her to the palace before.

“What happened to the sick soldiers on the bridge,” she asked when he arrived.

“All guards, servants, and slaves who show signs of the new plague are taken to a camp. It’s an old, exhausted sandstone quarry, a few miles south-west of Sanjaba. A few healers and priests are treating them ... too few healers, my Princess.”

“Do you know how many are suffering from the plague, yet?” Anjatta asked.

“I saw how many were taken from the palace a little while ago; about a hundred, my Princess, but look,” he said, pointing at a group of people approaching the gate. It was a group of about fifty servants and guards, dragging their weary figures across the bridges. “More are coming.”

“I have to go to Sanjaba,” Anjatta said and turned to leave.

“My Princess, you know I can’t let you go unescorted,” Sallas Kharjos reminded her.

Anjatta halted. “I need an escort to Sanjaba,” she requested. Intently regarding the officer, she quietly added, “An escort which will lose sight of me in the capital ... please.”

“As you command, my Princess,” Sallas Kharjos answered just as quietly.

Two hours later, Anjatta, Sallas Kharjos, and four guards reached a market in the center of Sanjaba. Anjatta halted their group at a stone well and looked at the officer.

“I want to look at the wares of the merchants and maybe buy a few things,” she said. “It’s a busy market, if you lose sight of me, we will meet here by the well.”

“Very good, my Princess,” Sallas Kharjos agreed.

Standing In the middle of the market, Anjatta looked around, placed a hand on her collarbone and closed her eyes. A moment later she moved on, leading them through a row of booths, mostly displaying fruits, and vegetables. They were passing a two-wheeled barrow with high stacked heaps of jujubes and pomegranates, as a big man, walking in the opposite direction, tripped and fell against the cart. The collision caused an apparently loose wheel to slip off its axel. The cart toppled, the big man fell and was buried by a landslide of jujubes and pomegranates. Luckily Anjatta was quick enough to jump and dodge the falling man and fruits. Sadly, after her jump, a mountain made of a fallen big man and fruits separated her from her escort. In the ensuing tumult, they totally lost sight of each other. Sallas Kharjos commanded the guards to return to the stone well at the edge of the market where they waited for their princess.

Anjatta turned a corner into a narrow road and left in the opposite direction. At the end of the road, a young blond woman leaned against the wall of a shack. She wore men’s clothes with rolled-up pant legs.

“Hello Anja,” Sybelien greeted. “Do you need a new escort?”

Anjatta smiled. “Thank you, Sybil. The officer would have let me go but thanks to you, I didn’t need him to help me escape. Since when did you follow me?”

“I was watching from The Fangs,” Sybelien answered. “I’ve followed you since you left King’s Island. I noticed you don’t wear your necklace. What happened?”

Anjatta lowered her eyes. “Khalib destroyed it.”

Sybelien shook her head. “I’ve never seen Jabbit get angry but that might do it. Your cousin is a bloody moron.”

“Did you see the groups of sick people leaving King’s Island?” Anjatta asked.

Sybelien nodded.

“The King is sick, too ... and my mother,” Anjatta said. “I need to talk to Jabbit but without my necklace, I can’t find him. Can you help me, please?”

Sybelien watched Anjatta intently. “He spent the afternoon with Ansa at the beach and now he’s returning.”

Anjatta’s eyes filled with tears as she heard Sybelien’s answer. “Rhaseris suggested I should teach Jabbit mercy but I don’t know if that’s even possible.”

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t; maybe there are things he doesn’t need to learn,” Sybelien answered. “If you think you can’t do it, maybe we should ask the Yorak to teach him everything they know about mercy.”

Anjatta looked at Sybelien and wiped off her tears. “I know mercy isn’t what you want,” she said.

“You’re right, I don’t want mercy for the murderers of my family,” Sybelien answered. “I want revenge.”

“My mother helped to murder your family,” Anjatta stated. “She wanted your death and if she wouldn’t be sick now, she still would want it. I know all that and still try to save her. You want revenge for your family and I want mercy for mine.” Anjatta fell to her knees, clasped Sybelien’s thighs and looked up at her face. “I beg for your mercy. Please help me save my mom.”

“Are you mad? Let go of me!” Sybelien hissed, trying to pry Anjatta’s arms off her thighs. She couldn’t succeed and gave up as Anjatta buried her face in Sybelien’s belly and her tears drenched the blonde’s shirt. “Damn mad woman!” She cursed. “Yes, I’ll bloody help to save your bloody mother!”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Anjatta cried even harder.