Chapter 42

About an hour after sunrise, Rhaseris opened the door to Jabbit’s cabin and stepped inside. As she saw the room’s occupants were still sleeping, she quietly closed the door behind her and tiptoed to the bed, bent forward and whispered in Anjatta’s ear.

“Get up; you have to prepare our breakfast.”

Anjatta didn’t respond but Evanis did. She mumbled something unintelligible and embraced the petite Ibanee princess a little tighter.

Rhaseris straightened and sternly looked at the tangled mess of bodies on the bed. “Anjatta needs to get up and prepare our breakfast!” She commanded, no longer whispering.

“Let me sleep; I’m tired,” Anjatta murmured.

“Go and find someone else,” Evanis grumbled.

“I would like to prepare breakfast,” Jabbit suggested, his voice much friendlier than his companions’.

“But you aren’t the one who has to atone for their sin,” Rhaseris opposed his offer.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Evanis commented.

“Get up, Anjatta - now!” Rhaseris hissed.

“I can’t get up,” Anjatta lamented. “I’m stuck between them.”

“Let go of Anjatta, Eva,” Rhaseris ordered, reinforcing her command with a swat on Evanis’ butt.

“Did you just hit me?” The warrioress asked, wide-eyed.

“Yes and I’ll hit you again if you don’t let go of her now,” Rhaseris threatened.

“I think I like it when my Princess becomes all forceful and commanding,” Evanis purred and shook her ass invitingly. “When Anja leaves the bed, you’ll have to take her place - did you know that?”

Rhaseris took a deep, long breath before she replied. “No, I didn’t know that,” she said and smiled. “But I’ll consider spanking you as a reward for good behavior from now on.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Princess,” Evanis said, mirroring Rhaseris’ unconvincing smile with her own shark-like version.

The warrioress freed Anjatta of her embrace. As the agile little Ibanee hastily climbed over her and out of bed, Evanis snuggled up to Jabbit’s side, closing the gap Anjatta left behind.

“You two remind me of a wolf pack I often watched when I was a little boy,” Jabbit mused, a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Two of the pack’s she-wolfs behaved the same way you do. Does that mean I am your...”

He was silenced by the hand Evanis put over his mouth. “Don’t you dare say it,” she growled and bit into his shoulder. “It’s better you don’t even think it, bunny boy.”

“Let’s go, Anja,” Rhaseris decided. “She-wolf Evanis is in heat. We’ll leave and grant their coupling some privacy.”

Far too quickly it became apparent that privacy was currently not at the forefront of Evanis’ mind. Although Rhaseris and Anjatta hurried out of the cabin as fast as humanly possible, they only were able to save a few, tattered remnants of ordinary decency.

A little later in the galley’s caboose, Rhaseris introduced the new kitchenmaid to Kuwasi and Shinta.

“Don’t bow before her!” Rhaseris huffed. “Anja isn’t here to be adored by her subjects; she’s the kitchen help.”

“I didn’t think you could cook, my Princess,” Kuwasi wondered.

“It’s true, I can’t cook,” Anjatta confirmed. “And just in case you’re wondering – I’m neither here because I want to help nor do I want to learn cooking. I’m here to atone for my sins.”

With a grin on his face, Kuwasi turned to Rhaseris. “If I remember correctly, you cannot cook either.”

Rhaseris raised her nose. “Of course not. I’m a royal princess, not some lowly scullery maid,” she stated the obvious, spun on her heel and gracefully floated out of the caboose.

“That was funny,” Shinta praised Rhaseris’ stage-ready departure. “If you don’t mind me asking, I’d like to know how it’s going with your atonement?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Anjatta answered, looking at her feet.

“Then let me ask a different question,” Shinta said. “Do you consent to your punishment or do you want to escape it?”

Anjatta’s head shot up and she stared at Shinta. “Escape?” She asked. “There is nowhere to flee nor anywhere to hide. I am an oracle; I can’t even escape in my sleep, where my dreams are hunting me.”

Shinta smiled. “In that case, I’ll teach you how to make yourself useful in the kitchen. Let’s start with washing and slicing some mangoes. I like mangoes for breakfast.”

“Next show her how to remove the pips from pomegranates,” Kuwasi required. “I hate to do such fussy things.”

“Come on princess, don’t just stand around and gawk; we have lots of work for you.”

Sybelien and Anseyla were roused from sleep by a shrill voice penetrating the wall between theirs and the captain’s cabin.

“I don’t think I want to become a mother,” Anseyla pondered.

“Careful, Ansa, you better not badmouth my new friend,” Sybelien warned, grinning.

“Actually, I think we should help your friend,” Anseyla suggested. “If her other new friend helps the little queen, it could become nasty.”

“You’re right,” Sybelien agreed. “It’s almost always better to intervene before the boss does.”

Washed, dressed, and a short while later, Anseyla and Sybelien stepped into the small corridor connecting the three upper deck cabins.

“It still sounds to me as if they are fighting for their lives in there,” Sybelien remarked as they passed the other stateroom door on the way to the captain’s cabin, “but it doesn’t worry me anymore because I know it’s the sound of their loving harmony.”

“I know you believe you recently learned a lot,” Anseyla replied, “and not just from listening. I’m looking forward to the moment when you’ll realize that watching also can’t satisfy you any longer.”

Sybelien didn’t respond – at least not verbally – and knocked on the door of the captain’s cabin.

“You’re so pretty when you blush, honey pie,” Anseyla teased.

“Shut up now,” Sybelien hissed as the door opened.

For a moment he looked puzzled but then a smile lit Agon’s face. “The Lady Danjala speaks the truth; your rosy complexion looks enchanting, Princess Sybelien.”

“Princess Sybil, my ally is here!” Nahseyra squealed and Irja groaned.

“What may I do for you, my ladies?” Agon asked.

“We’re here to invite your family to a joint breakfast in the ship’s mess,” Anseyla answered with a smile.

Irja stepped at Agon’s side. “That’s very kind of you,” she answered, smiling too, “but I fear we will have to pass. As you may have noticed, our daughter isn’t feeling well this morning.”

“I feel well,” Hamsun dropped in. “May I go, please?”

“I too feel well!” Nahseyra hastened to add.

Irja’s face flushed. She looked at the ceiling, closed her eyes and slowly expelled a breath.

“Poor Nahseyra,” Anseyla replied. “I can imagine how worried you must be. I’ll go and notify Jabbit. He’s a most capable healer, as you certainly are aware.”

Irja’s gaze returned from the ceiling and pierced the woman in front of her. “That won’t be necessary,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “I know he is a very busy young man - as we can hear now and could hear all through the night.”

Agon had a coughing fit and Sybelien suddenly found the floor paneling most interesting.

“I can assure you, Irja, Jabbit will never be too busy to look after your daughter,” Anseyla answered, unperturbed. “He’ll do everything he can to eliminate the reason for her absence during our meals.”

“I see,” Irja replied. “As her parents, we greatly appreciate Jabbit’s concern for our daughter ... and yours, of course, Lady Danjala. My own worry for my daughter runs very deep as well and causes me to become a bit overcautious at times. Indeed, I think Nahseyra feels well enough to participate in a joint breakfast and we gladly accept your invitation.”

“I feel so relieved to hear of Nahseyra’s quick recovery and I’m happily looking forward to breakfast with your family,” Anseyla answered. “Sybelien and I will leave you alone now; we wouldn’t want to overstay our welcome.”

The women all smiled at each other as they bid their farewells and then the door closed.

“Such a bitch!”

After their rushed retreat from Katerra, the cusp of the Alorian priesthood had chosen Clagesh Abbey as their refuge. The ancient monastery, twenty leagues northwest of the capital, lay surrounded by vineyards close to the river Nierra, one of the larger streams feeding the Ewu. According to legend, the monastery had been built on the remains of Clagesh, the world’s last dragon and eponym of the abbey. Allegedly, the dragon was slain by the Alorian god Injaramosh at the end of a battle lasting three seasons.

On this late morning, the monks of Clagesh Abbey were honored to not only serve breakfast for the nobility of the Alorian priesthood but also for several representatives of their loyal allies. Three dozen people had taken a seat at the largest of the tables in the monastery dining hall and his Excellency Montis Shoban’Rohass, High Priest of the Alorian Gods, personally welcomed his guests.

“Let me tell you my allies, friends, and brethren, today is a glorious day; for today, gathered within these history-charged walls of Clagesh Abbey, we see the past and we see the future. Here, at the very same place where once the Alorian gods defeated one of the greatest evils the archenemy brought upon this world. Here, at the new dawn of an old war, we, the faithful, stand once more, united and ready to fight the nemesis of this world!”

After the High Priest’s welcoming speech, the various representatives took the floor.

“Your Excellency, I am Thorjas Juniper, fourth commander of the Forsaken Army. I’m reporting to you on behalf of General Vassun,” a lanky man introduced himself. “The Forsaken Army progressed as planned and will reach the northern defense walls of Katerra tomorrow, in the early evening. According to plan, we won’t besiege Katerra but lay in wait, preparing ourselves to advance through the Coward’s Gate into the town.”

“That is satisfying news,” the Untar of the Bhansun approved.

“However,” Torjas Juniper replied, “the General wants to remind his Excellency on the contract stipulations. If Evanis Danjala can’t be handed over to the General within three days after the conquest of Katerra, an additional payment of ten-thousand imperial gold pieces will be due.”

The High Priest’s face contorted into an expressive display of his thoughts in regards to a debt raise.

“Irrespective of contract obligations,” the lanky man continued, “the General would be thankful for any news the Alorian priesthood would like to share about Evanis Danjala’s whereabouts.”