Battles of Salt and Sighs by Val Saintcrowe

CHAPTER EIGHT

ONIVIA DIDN’T SPEAKto Larent about their kiss or about what they had called each other, and he didn’t speak of it either, much to her relief. She wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened, and that was easier if he wasn’t calling attention to it.

The next day at meals, there was no more kissing, but Larent did put his hands on her again. She didn’t speak, and neither did he. She wordlessly performed her duties and smiled at him. He watched her with that maddening look on his face, as if she belonged to him.

And Marta commented on it. “You’re mostly talk, I see, and I’m glad of that, because I like you, and you’ll be better off that way.”

Onivia didn’t know what the other woman even meant and said so.

“I mean that you talk a lot about defying Larent, but I see that when you’re with him, you do your best to pretend to be pleased by him, and that you must do a good job, because he seems to believe it.”

“Oh,” said Onivia. “That.”

“I see the way you smile at him. I suppose I know you better than he does, because I wouldn’t find the smiles particularly believable, but from the way he smiles back, he must.”

No, it was only that Larent was far better at pretending than she was. She wondered if she was really fooling anyone. If not, he would be displeased. The message had gone out to Magdalia, which was something, but what she really needed from Larent was for him to use his influence to send her to be with her sister. If he became displeased, he might not do that. She sighed heavily. She would do better.

“Maybe he’ll fall in love with you,” said Marta, giving her a wink.

“That’s preposterous,” said Onivia. “They hate us.”

“It’s happened,” said Marta. “It could happen again. There was a girl here a year ago, and one of the centurions married her. Sent her off to some plot of land on some liberated villa to raise their child until the war is over.”

“I don’t want to marry Larent.” Her voice was laced with contempt. “Don’t you think that eventually the imperial legions will crush this rebellion?”

“They haven’t thus far.”

“They haven’t taken it seriously,” said Onivia. “But they will. They must. They’ll call back the troops from the borders, the ones fighting with Emmessia. They’ll call back the troops trying to take new land for the empire. They’ll call them all back and the fae will stand no chance against the best army in the world.”

“Say they do,” said Marta. “What do you think they’ll do with us?”

“We’re human women—”

“Used and tainted,” countered Marta. “We’ll never be of any sort of worth to them. Maybe if you have family left somewhere, they might shelter you, but all my male relatives were killed in the uprising on my grandfather’s villa, even my brother, and he was only twelve.”

“I’m sorry,” said Onivia. “I’m so—”

“I don’t need that,” Marta snapped. “What I’m saying is that we are worthless to human men, don’t you see that? None of them want fae leftovers.”

Onivia thought of Albus again. He would… well, no, he wouldn’t want her now, but then he hadn’t wanted her in a while, she supposed. Still, he was an honorable man, and he would make sure that the human women were protected. “Maybe we could go to serve in the temples as Fortune’s matrons,” she said softly.

“I’d rather suck fae cock,” said Marta, shrugging.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m not one for meditation and vows of silence,” said Marta. “Or vows of chastity, for that matter.”

“But you don’t… you don’t enjoy—”

“Not at first,” said Marta. “But it gets better. The way he smiles at you, and what they say about Larent, it can’t be so bad as all that with him. He seems like one of the better ones.”

“What do they say about Larent?” said Onivia, who realized, suddenly, that Larent would have had girls before her, and, oddly, this was not exactly a welcome thought to her. She couldn’t understand how she could possibly feel possessive of her captor, her rapist, her abuser.

I’m in an impossible situation. My brain isn’t functioning properly,she decided.

“Well, he’s never had a girl before you,” said Marta.

She let out a bitter little laugh. Well, then.

“Why do you react that way?”

“I…” She shook her head. “Continue. What do they say?”

“Well, he declined it for a long time, saying he didn’t find human women to his taste or something, and this was all fine until Akiel decided to accuse him of being a human sympathizer. Akiel hates him, but that’s because Akiel hates humans and Larent is a half-blood.”

“But there are quite a few half-bloods,” said Onivia. “Does Akiel hate them all?”

“Yes, and he resents the fact that they can use the metal weapons when he can’t,” said Marta. “The fae need Larent and they need half-bloods if they wish to win, but Akiel wishes that weren’t true. He wants it all to be pure-blood fae, triumphing over the humans through magic only.”

“Akiel is horrible.”

“He’s one of the worst ones,” said Marta, nodding. “If I can help it, I will never go to his bed.”

“But we can’t help it,” said Onivia.

“I don’t know,” said Marta. “I am making inroads with Dandren and perhaps he would protect me. It’s different with him, because he picked me himself, and I was already used to things when we came together. It’s…” She shrugged. “He tells me things, and he listens to me, and I sometimes feel as though I even almost like him.”

Onivia didn’t say anything.

“You’re appalled,” said Marta, sounding regretful.

“You’re the one who told me the worst thing we can do is to allow ourselves to develop feelings for them.”

“True,” said Marta.

There was nothing to say after that.

From then on, Onivia worked harder to make her interactions with Larent at mealtimes seem genuine. She started to attempt to pretend he was Albus. She would think of the way she had looked at Albus, the way she had laughed when Albus said something amusing, the way she had longed for Albus to touch her.

Of course he hadn’t.

Only that once.

Albus was too noble for such things, and the kiss had only happened because he’d thought she would marry him, and then…

It hurt to think about Albus, but it was also a sweet relief, a remembrance of what things could be between men and women. Marta seemed convinced that everything was violence, no matter whether it was human or fae men, but Onivia knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t always forced. It could be good and lovely.

Larent seemed to respond to her new manner, and he was more demonstrative. Now, nearly every mealtime, there was some kind of kissing, even if it wasn’t on the lips. He would kiss her neck or her cheek. His fingers would trail over her hip or the curve of her backside. He traced his thumb over her jaw, his forefinger down the notches of her spine. He smoothed his palm around her shoulder, and once, which made her gasp, around the inside of her thigh.

One evening, she was in his lap when the meal was interrupted by a fae militus bringing in a human prisoner. He was a young man, not yet twenty, and his clothing was in tatters, his face dirty. Even so, Onivia recognized him, and she fought hard not to react.

She didn’t want Larent to know it, and she was pressed into him, so she forced herself not to stiffen or start or do anything at all.

It was Cassus.

She hadn’t seen Cassus since the capital. It had been at least three years. He was older now. He was taller. He’d filled out, and he had a scraggly bit of growth on his chin. Still, it was easy to know him.

Akiel slammed his goblet down on the table. “Why do you disturb our dinner, militus?”

“We found this human skulking around the perimeter and we think he’s a spy,” said the militus. “Princep.” This was an afterthought.

“Throw him in the dungeons, then,” said Akiel. “Get out.”

“But, princep, if the humans are spying on us—”

“Out.” Akiel slammed a hand on the table and all the candles in the room extinguished. It was a bit of a parlor trick, but it did illustrate his magic, and the fact that they were all plunged into darkness was a shock.

Onivia felt unease blooming in her stomach.

What was Cassus doing out there? Why had he even left the capital? She knew he was in the care of his elder brother, whose rebel sympathies would mean that he would have remained there. Cassus had always opposed his brother, but never openly. Had he been cast out of his household?

If so, why hadn’t he gone to his grandfather, who was a senator? All those families had retreated to their villas and estates in the country, and surely Cassus would be welcome there. Unless Cassus’s family’s villa had been crushed?

Again, she fought not to show her unease. She wanted to get out of Larent’s lap, but she couldn’t figure out how to do that. Then it came to her.

She leapt up. “I’ll see to the candles, dominus.” Calling him this was easier now. It no longer hurt. It no longer felt like anything.

He patted her absently, nodding his ascent in the near-darkness.

She scurried off for flint and began to light candles. A few other women were up helping her.

By the time the candles were all lit, Cassus had been taken out, presumably to the dungeon. Onivia wanted to speak to him. But how could she manage that?

She was permitted more freedom than she had been before. The door was open during the day, and she was permitted to roam as she wished, though she never went anywhere other than the lower level where the other women who were not specifically assigned to a certain man slept.

There were guards at all the stairwells and all the doors. Though they let her pass when she went between floors, they would certainly report her activity to Larent if it were deemed suspicious.

It was hopeless.

After dinner, she retired to Larent’s chambers. He sat at a desk, pouring over maps, mumbling to himself, scribbling on paper. This was what he did every night.

Usually, she read the books on the shelves in the room, but that evening, she only stared at the pages, her mind wandering.

She thought of meeting Cassus.

It had been a warm spring day in the capital, and she and Magdalia had been out for a walk in Horta Park, which had still been deemed safe at that point. Well, perhaps it really hadn’t been, but her aunt was a stubborn woman, and they had lingered long in the capital, doing many unsafe things even after others had fled.

Magdalia had found a cocoon hanging from a tree branch. She had wrapped her hand around it, closing her eyes, and when she’d opened her fingers, a magnificent butterfly had flown free from the cocoon.

“How did you do that?” a voice said.

It was Cassus. He’d been sixteen at that point, two years older than Magdalia, and he’d already been looking at her with that worshipful look in his eyes, the one that seemed to indicate the sun rose and set in her, at least in his mind.

“It’s magic,” said Magdalia. “I simply sped it up. I made the butterfly grow.” It was fluttering around her head now. It was black, with a bright blue pattern on it, and the contrast was startling and beautiful.

“You have magic?” said Cassus. “You are one of the Favored?”

“Yes,” said Magdalia, smiling at him. She always loved it when people were awed by her. In fact, when people weren’t, she was annoyed.

There were introductions then, and that was when they discovered that Cassus was the grandson of the Senator Olirius, but that he lived with his older brother, who was a businessman in the capital. His brother sold imported silk, apparently.

Cassus wanted to know if they often walked in the park, and when they said that they did, he was always there whenever they came. He learned their schedule and waited for them, and he fawned over Magdalia. He wrote her poems and picked her flowers and never hesitated to compliment her.

Albus was gone by then, and she had ignored it, finding it childish and silly and yet somehow painful.

Then there was that incident at the end of it all, in the late fall, when she and Magdalia had walked to the market in Silvtown on their own, only with their personal maids as accompaniment.

They used to do it all the time, and they thought nothing of it. Back when they’d first arrived in the city, the streets were safe at all hours, with parties often held in the evenings, and carriages of the aristocrats going to and fro hours after midnight.

But things had been slowly changing in the city, and they should have realized that to walk to that market would take them through the area of Brillton, which had been practically destroyed in a recent riot. The storefronts had been vandalized and looted, and though there was talk of rebuilding, the place was currently a wasteland.

They hurried through, clutching each other’s hands, and Onivia remembered thinking to herself that on the way back from the market, they must go around this, even if it took them an extra ten minutes to get back.

The shattered glass windows and the graffitied walls were sobering.

And then Cassus had appeared, coming the opposite direction, and Magdalia had cried out. “Over here! We’re here!” She had reached high above her hand and waved.

Onivia had grabbed her, shushing her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I invited Cassus to meet up with us and go to the market,” said Magdalia. “I know Aunt Toria says that it’s the height of impropriety for girls to meet boys in the streets, but I can’t see what could possibly happen out in the open, can you? And besides, I would never do anything improper with Cassus of all people.”

It was true. Cassus might have adored Magdalia, but the feeling was hardly returned. Magdalia enjoyed being the object of his affection, but that was as far as it went.

“Quiet,” said Onivia. “This isn’t the part of the city to be calling attention to ourselves.”

Cassus agreed as he approached. “Not so loud, dominissa. I should have insisted that the two of you meet me elsewhere. I hadn’t realized things were so very…” He looked around at the silent streets, which were littered with rubble.

“We need to get through this area quickly,” said Onivia to him. She glanced back at their maids, who were staying close. They looked alarmed as well.

“Agreed,” said Cassus.

“Oh, you two are overreacting, just like our aunt.” Magdalia shook her head at them. “I’m not frightened, even if the two of you are both cowards. Why, what is there really to harm us here? A bit of broken glass? Some dilapidated buildings? There is no one here.” She linked her arm with Cassus. “Now, I am very happy to see you, and you will give me the account of your brother’s dinner party that you promised, since we are denied the fun of dinner parties ourselves.”

Cassus beamed at her. “Soon, dominissa, once we are past this part of the city. We will go quickly and then I will tell you all once we are in to the market. And I will also buy you some fresh berries, as I promised.”

Magdalia squealed in delight. “Yes, you will, Cassus.”

“Quiet,” hissed Onivia.

But it was too late, because the rebels were already slinking out from behind the buildings. Most of them were humans, for there were less fae slaves in this part of the empire, most of them concentrated in the Eeslia. They were dressed in clothes that indicated they were lower class, however, and they walked with the upright defiance that the resistance members had lately taken on, because they were no longer afraid of anything, and they squared their shoulders and lifted their chins to dare the aristocrats to challenge them.

Onivia was shot full of terror. These men were dangerous, and she could not protect her sister. What were they going to do? Should they run?

Cassus’s eyes widened, and he removed his arm from Magdalia’s grasp. “Let me handle this,” he whispered frantically. “Magdalia, not a word.”

She opened her mouth.

He put his forefinger against her bottom lip, his eyes flashing.

Magdalia was shocked at his demeanor and fell silent.

Cassus stepped forward, spreading his hands, grinning at the men. “What do you think? My sisters are quite like dominissae, are they not? We stole the lot—the dresses, the jewels, even the combs in their hair, and none are the wiser. It’s better than those aristos deserve, of course. What gives them the right to hoard the wealth?”

The men on the street were armed with clubs and boards and other makeshift weapons. “Who are you?”

“We are revolutionaries like you,” said Cassus. He brought his arm against his chest, making a fist, which he pounded under his opposite shoulder. “Brothers in oppression.”

The men made a similar gesture, all together.

“Brothers in arms,” came a resounding chorus.

“Liberty in fraternity,” said Cassus, letting his arm drop.

The men all relaxed, dropping their weapons, their postures easing. They and Cassus spoke together easily, asking questions about this supposed clothes heist, where they had gone to steal the clothing, what their association with the revolution was, and Cassus had answered each of the questions without any hesitation. His answers were well received by the others.

Eventually, they let them go, hooting in their wake at what they had supposedly accomplished.

Cassus led them through the streets, and it wasn’t until they were blocks and blocks away from the ruined part of the city, almost to the market, that any of them had spoken.

“You were very brave,” Magdalia observed.

“How did you know those things?” Onivia broke in tersely.

He turned wide, ashamed eyes on her. “I never wanted you to know, I suppose, how deeply it is that my brother is associated with these rebels.”

Onivia let out a sigh. “I suppose we should have guessed. Why else would he feel so free to have dinner parties at a time like this?”

“I am not with him,” said Cassus fiercely. “But if I openly oppose him, he will turn me out, and I wish to stay in the city because of the company here.” His gaze fell on Magdalia.

“I think Cassus was brilliant,” said Magdalia, looking at him in admiration for the first time ever. “I don’t see what the fuss is about.”

Of course her sister wouldn’t understand anything about the idea of honor.

“If you say anything about what I’ve done, I will of course, declare myself,” said Cassus. “I don’t wish your aunt to think—”

“We’ll keep it to ourselves,” Onivia promised.

But then the atmosphere in the city had worsened and even her aunt could not deny that it wasn’t safe there.

Before winter came, they had all been packed off onto the train, traveling to the south, and then onto ships, and then back to their home on Quinta Island.

Onivia had not known if they’d ever see Cassus again.

What was he doing here?

“You’re not reading.” Larent spoke, shattering her thoughts, bringing her back to the present, where she was a captive in this sitting room.

She looked up from the book. “Hmm?”

“You haven’t turned the page in twenty minutes.”

She turned the page. “Of course I have.”

Larent snorted. He was twisting around in the chair at his desk to look at her. “You recognized that human they brought in. Is he a spy?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“If you recognized him, I doubt he’s a spy.” Larent got up from the desk. “I doubt you were much acquainted with any of the imperial legions.”

“I once was quite associated with a legatus,” she said, and then cringed. Why had she volunteered that?

Larent sat down on a couch opposite her. “Is that so?”

She swallowed, shutting her eyes. I am so very stupid. Why can’t I hold my tongue? “It was nothing, and he never really spoke of his military efforts.”

“Who is he?”

“The legatus?”

“The human that you recognized.”

“I didn’t recognize him.”

“Get up.”

She only stared at him.

He stood up from the couch and approached her. First, he plucked the book out of her lap and tossed it to land next to her on the couch. Then, he pulled her to her feet.

“You couldn’t have let me mark my place in that?” she demanded.

“You weren’t reading it,” he said.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.” He raised his eyebrows at her.

“I don’t know who he is.”

“We’re going to go and pay him a visit,” said Larent.

“Why would we do that?”

“You’re going to say to him that you waited until the guard changed and were able to sneak down without anyone knowing. I’ll be listening, but out of sight and he won’t know I’m there. If you indicate to him in any way that I’m listening, I will know, and you’ll regret it.”

Her lips parted.

“I can make you regret it, domina.” There was something hard in his voice, and she had never really heard it before. She realized that this was who he was when he was the centurion, this was who he was when he was the military strategist. He had been someone else with her, though. He had been a man, and she had been a woman, and he had been…

She swallowed. “No.”

“Do you wish me to explain to you how I can make you regret it?”

She cast about for some other way to convince Larent. “He’s not important.”

“So, you do know him.”

“He’s definitely not a spy.”

Larent took her by the arm. “Let’s go.”

Anger pulsed through her. “Please.” She was begging him, as if he cared about her, as if he would do her favors. What did she think? Just because she’d pretended he was Albus when she let him kiss her didn’t mean he was Albus. He was nothing like Albus, and he didn’t care about her.

But there was a flicker in Larent’s expression. His voice softened. “Apologies, domina. But this is necessary. Let’s go.”

“Listen, I wouldn’t have the slightest idea why he would be here, but I don’t think it has anything to do with… with the war. He’s probably just… I don’t know why he’s here.”

“I believe you,” he said. “But he’ll tell you, and he won’t tell me or any of the fae. So, let’s go find out together.”

“I don’t want to trick him,” she said. She was still begging.

“You don’t have a choice, domina,” he said. “You can take comfort in that.” He pulled on her arm, and she was compelled to walk with him.

Together, they left the room, descending downwards, to the dungeon.

THE DUNGEONS WEREold, having been built hundreds of years ago, and they were made of stone, buried deep in the earth. They were damp and clammy and unpleasant. They were dark.

“Onivia,” whispered Cassus as he peered out of the barred window of his cell.

She could only see his face, and she couldn’t see what the cell was like inside.

“You came to me?” Cassus looked left and right down the hallway, but Larent was just out of sight, around the bend. “I saw you at dinner there, and I was horrified. I looked for… for Magda, but I didn’t see her. Where is she?”

“She’s not here,’ said Onivia. “She’s with the Croith.”

“Isn’t the Croith here? I heard that he was. It was good intelligence, from my brother’s friends. I listened in on their conversations and they didn’t know. But now, my brother will likely disown me.”

Onivia licked her lips.

Cassus was still speaking. “How are you here? Do you have free run of the place?”

“No, I…” She swallowed. She didn’t want to lie, but Larent was right. She didn’t have a choice. He hadn’t given her one. “I sneaked down here to see you.”

“Oh,” he said. “You shouldn’t have put yourself in danger because of me.”

“I… I’ll go.” She turned and started away.

“Wait,” he said. “Since you’re here, you can tell me about Magdalia.”

“I don’t know anything about her.”

“I heard the Croith wanted her, and that he was waiting for her here,” said Cassus. “I hoped to intercept the fae who had her, somehow take her away, save her, but… I guess I was too late. I’ve been watching the road here, and then—when no one was traveling—I decided to look at the villa itself. But I was too easily captured, I suppose.”

“Of course you’re looking for Magdalia,” said Onivia. “Even after all these years, you still feel…”

“I love her,” said Cassus. “I know, we were children, well, barely out of childhood, and I know she was indifferent to me, but I, well, it doesn’t matter, I can’t bear it, knowing she’s been taken by the Night King.”

“I’m told he wants her magic and that she won’t be mistreated,” Onivia said softly.

“But where does he have her?”

“In the capital,” said Onivia.

“Of course,” said Cassus. “That’s where I came from. If I would have stayed put, I could have helped her.”

“How would you help her, Cassus?” said Onivia. And then she realized he might actually have a plan of some kind, and she didn’t want Larent to hear it, so she plowed on, not allowing him to answer. “Surely, it’s impossible to go up against the Croith. You would only succeed in getting yourself killed.”

“It would be a worthy sacrifice if so,” said Cassus. “But I think I would have stood more of a chance than that. Of course, it doesn’t matter now, because I’m locked in this dungeon.”

“Perhaps your brother—”

“My brother funded the riots in the city, but even he is dubious about the death fae,” said Cassus. “They are killing the fish in the ocean, you know, using their magic to make the seas inhospitable, so chock full of dead things that the ships cannot pass, that the air is full of noxious disease that sickens. It has not been good for his import business.”

“I see.”

“I’m not sure his influence will be enough to free me,” said Cassus.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Can you come to me again? Could you also find a key? If you would help me, I would get to your sister. I know you are frightened for her as well.”

“I am,” she said. “I don’t know anything about keys, I’m afraid.”

“You’ll come with me, of course,” said Cassus. “We’ll both go after her. I’ll keep you both safe, Onivia.”

“I… I wouldn’t count on my help, Cassus. I… In fact, I need to go now. The guards will be back in place soon. The changeover is short. I must go now, or they will discover me, and I’ll be punished.”

“Of course,” said Cassus. “Do not put yourself in any further danger on my account.”

“I…” She wanted to say something to him, something that would help, something that would lift his spirits, but… there was nothing. “Goodbye, Cassus.” She turned and fled.

Larent caught her when she rounded the corner. He escorted her back upstairs, and back to his room. Then he deposited her on the couch and paced in front of her.

“He’s your sister’s paramour.”

“Hardly,” she said. “My sister never gave him any hope of reciprocation. He was desperately infatuated. It was a long time ago. I don’t know why he’d do something so foolish or dangerous.”

“I heard him. He said he’s in love.” Larent paced. “I’ll inform the Croith. He’ll want to know.”

Onivia’s heart sank. “What will happen to Cassus?”

“I don’t know,” said Larent.

“But couldn’t you…?”

He turned on her. “What?”

“Leave it be. He’s barely more than a boy. He’s no threat to the Croith.”

“I think I’ll let the Croith decide that,” said Larent.

“But there must be some way that I could convince you.” Of course, she knew there wasn’t.

He raised his eyebrows.

Her face fell. “I don’t know why I speak to you this way, truly. I know it’s useless, that you don’t care about me.”

“No, I don’t,” he said in a flat voice.

“So, it’s pointless to think that I could prevail on you in that way,” she said with a little laugh. “It’s only that Cassus is so young, and you sometimes seem to have some decency about you. I forget what you are.”

A smile spread over his face. “That was well done, domina. I find that quite affecting. You may have more influence over me than you should.”

She drew back, unsure of how to take this. What was he saying?

Suddenly, he sat down next to her on the couch, too close. “It’s all the caresses, I imagine. Those little breathy noises you make when I put my hands on you. You’re a marvelous actress. You impress me, domina.”

She hesitated a moment, and then she decided it hurt nothing to fully make an attempt to convince him. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, after all. “Yes,” she whispered, leaning close as well, “yes, it makes everything confusing, I admit.” She picked up her hand and put it on his chest. She feathered her fingers over him through his clothes. She’d never touched him like this. He touched her. She reacted and endured. But this was… He’d just admitted weakness and she wanted to see if she could exploit it. “You’re confused as well?”

“Even if I am, I won’t betray my people because of it.”

“Not sending that boy to the Croith is hardly a betrayal. He’ll molder here in the dungeons, safely away from the capital, and he’ll be quite prevented from doing any kind of mischief. You’d never have known his intentions if it weren’t for me, anyway. Just leave him be and forget about him.” As she spoke, she touched him. Her hand went lower and lower, down over his chest, down to his stomach. He was warm. He was solid. He was practically sculpted. “You have many other things to think about, after all, don’t you?” She gazed up at him from beneath her eyelashes.

He laughed. “Oh, domina, how far we’ve come in such a short time. Would you have imagined yourself doing such things that first night with me? Look at what you reduce yourself to.”

This hurt, but she refused to react to it. He was fighting that way because she was getting to him. She might actually win this. Her hand went lower, brushing down below his belly button. “Forget about that human boy.”

“You know I can’t.” There was a hitch in his voice.

And when her hand went even lower, he was hard, and that startled her, so much that she recoiled in shock.

He laughed again. Then he vaulted off the couch and left the room. He went into his bedchamber and shut the door.

She sagged against the couch. For some reason, she was struggling to catch her breath.