Peace of Pearlion

She stumbled from the tent into the pale light of morning, her rumpled gown soaked with the spray of green-black blood. His knife was sharp, and even with her unsteady hand, it had cut. He had not moved.

 

No one was stirring. No one challenged her as she stumbled in a daze to the carriage that still stood in place. Tandas was no longer inside it, but the horrified driver had been resting there. He took one look at her and leapt to ready the horses completely, the crack of his whip and the lurch of the carriage following quickly.

 

Instead of taking her to her own lodging he took her directly to the Tor. She waited in the carriage until she was fetched. Nothing felt real. The blood was drying on her dress, the smell of it made her feel ill and her head throbbed.

 

She was shocked to see her uncle himself open the carriage door. There was something malicious in his surprise at the state of her.

 

“I received word moments before your arrival … someone murdered a Meazyr Prince. You?” He looked almost perversely amused.

 

“Yes.” She looked at him and realized she felt no fear. “I killed Vellsenslakter.”

 

She thought he might have smiled as he stepped back. A guard leaned in and looked at her nervously. She offered her hand and he helped her from the carriage. She was taken to the depths of the Tor silently, and she stepped into the cell without resistance.

 

It was Tandas who brought her water, to drink and to clean herself, and a white shift. When she was finished and changed he took the blood soaked dress and began to apologize. He looked horrified when she burst into tears and began to laugh. She shook her head and waved him away, lying down on the bench when he left.

 

The next morning, she was given a light breakfast and told that she would be tried and executed at midday. She nodded only.

 

It was not long after that a visitor came to speak with her. Klinglachprinz. He stood silent and imposing, staring at her as if trying to make her afraid. She smiled at him sadly.

 

“Ask.” She spoke with a voice like petals falling.

 

“Je killed him, because of Vells?” He demanded to know.

 

“No. I killed Vellsenslakter because he put the knife in my hand and said he required an answer. An answer I had promised to give. He said I would kill him with a refusal, and if I spared him I would have him. He kept calling me his wife.” Her eyes filled and burned. “He would not accept any other answer.”

 

“Why did he have one of jer flowers in his hair?” He looked at her intently.

 

“He put it there before he spoke of Vells, before he demanded his answer. He had helped me pull my hair down.” She touched her ear, inadvertently showing the bruises at her wrist, and sighed holding her tears back at the memory.

 

“He should not have made je choose.” He sounded regretful.

 

There was nothing further to say, so she didn’t. Hours later she was taken to the festival square of Pearlion, still decorated to celebrate the Peace. She stood silent on the scaffold as her name was read aloud, drawing hisses and shock from the gathered Meazyr, and as her crime was announced to the massive gathered crowd, drawing murmurs of shock all around that seemed to take ages to abate.

 

When she was asked how she pleaded, she said simply, “Guilty.”

 

She couldn’t bring herself to pay attention to the posturing of the Princes and the booming speech about the Peace given by her uncle. She was watching the birds and the way that the banners swayed and danced in the breeze, the shadow of clouds moving across the sky as they fell over the crowd. They had to touch her shoulder to get her attention when it was time for her to give her last words.

 

She smiled sweetly, “Lay me in the ashes of Vells. I’ll rest better near my father.” She knelt before the headsman and did not flinch.