Blackjack Wayward (The Blackjack Series) (11 page)

I must have had my mouth open in wonder, because he laughed.

“Yes, my friend. You will be richer than I with one wave of the goddess’ hand, and you will be her first Seshine.”

“I...I don’t,” I stumbled, looking around at the girls and the two warriors. “I don’t know if I’m worthy of–”

Drovani raised his hand, in pause.

“It is done,” he said. “Or it will be, but do not count your Versupen before they fall into your pouch, Blackjack. We must still fight to reclaim our home world. A long war lies ahead of us before you can bathe in a Chelen pond of gold and silver.”

“I see,” I said, understanding at once.

“Do not worry, my friend. We shall lead an army that will blacken the lands, like a thousand Kotoron beetles at a kill. As you become Seshine, I have been named High Champion of the Castle and will decree you my First Paladin, so together we will lead our army from victory to victory. Not even the Wardens of the Old Gods will be able to stop us.”

I rubbed my nose, feeling a sudden headache settling in my sinuses and migrating through my face and head.

“So we have to fight a war.”

Drovani laughed, “It will be a slaughter! For who can beat an army led by the mighty Blackjack?”

Chapter Six

After Drovani left, I wasn’t in the mood, especially with the two “guards” watching my every move. I waved the girls off and took a robe that one of them offered me when I got out of the pond. It was far too small, so I just dried myself with it and followed the girls to my chambers. The room was large but spartan, with a simple bed and washbasin, and a bucket for my necessities.

One of the guards, whose name I had already forgotten, came inside and barked some orders at the girls, clearing them out. The fellow was as stern as Drovani, but younger, slimmer, if such a thing was possible, wearing heavy golden armor with ornate etchings. He herded the girls out with his spear and bowed to me, turning to follow them.

“Wait a second,” I told him.

He paused, bowing again.

“What is your name?”

“Elgar,” he said, maintaining his bow.

“And the other guy is, Thro–”

“Hroneth. My caste-mate.”

“Got it. Can someone get me some clothes?”

Elgar looked up for a moment, confused.

“I’m sitting in my underwear here,” I said, motioning to the simple loincloth.

“You are to be Seshine,” he said simply. “You do not wear clothes.”

“Oh really? Well this one does. I don’t like my junk flopping around, you know?”

He shook his head, conflicted between the need to serve me, and the rules of his people.

“Look at it this way,” I said. “I’m not Seshine yet.”

It took him a few moments to follow my logic, but he nodded a few times and left the room. Moments later, the girls returned. At least I thought it was the same group. I only recognized the one that had pressed against me. She carried a bundle of cloth and her companions brought baskets with thread and metallic adornments. The two guards also came in and took positions on either side of me, their spears ready.

“What are you doing?” I asked Elgar, who was discernible from Hroneth because he was about an inch taller and had a much slighter build. Hroneth had the look of a bulldog, with large shoulder muscles that made it seem as if he had no neck.

“We will protect you in case they harm you with the needle. Seshine shall not spill his blood until the bonding rituals.”

I reached out to one of the baskets and held up a threaded needle. It was tiny, even when compared to the ones I was used to.

“This could never hurt me,” I said, poking myself with it and showing the guards my pristine forearm. I did the same with a pair of scissors to the same effect.

Elgar eyes widened, “Those are sharp, Seshine.”

“Not sharp enough,” I said. “Just stand down, guys. Let them do their thing and–” I paused because the girl with the scissors had cut off my loincloth, leaving me stark naked.

The Vershani looked at my nakedness and were all aghast, one of the girls going so far as to cover her face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, feeling a sudden rush of blood to my face.

Hroneth smiled, he was the less severe of the two.

“You are disgusting, Seshine.”

“What?”

“Like a dirty bull Czentok.”

I looked down at myself not understanding what he was talking about. I’m a big guy, so I’m big all over, but it wasn’t something I ever gave much thought and suddenly, here was a room full of these wretched creatures laughing at my pecker. Elgar hushed the girls, who were staring dumbfounded at me, but not in wonder. More like genuine shock and disgust.

“What are they saying?” I asked Hroneth.

“They were commenting on how filthy a Czentok male is.”

“What the hell is a Czentok?”

Elgar shot a guarded glance at his companion, and Hroneth just shook his head. “It is nothing. Forgive me, Seshine.”

“No, no. I want to know. What the hell is it?”

Hroneth looked back at Elgar who just shrugged.

“It is a hairy beast, low to the ground and powerful. A Vershani warrior must kill one when he is....” he paused, not knowing how to translate a word.

“Grown,” Elgar assisted.

“Yes, when he is grown to adulthood.”

“And their...?” I motioned to my pelvic area.

“It is hairy and dirty. And big, like a man’s arm.”

I laughed.

I got to like the two guards, Elgar and Hroneth, who as time passed became friendly. The girls remained nervous while they stayed, but they worked diligently, making me a sort of Roman toga-like garment that was both comfortable and form-fitting. They decorated me with silver and gold adornments, including the pair of bracers I had taken as booty. The women fitted it as an overlay to a set of leather bands that took some time to size, encrusting it with gems of topaz and amber that bore the mark of my station, the Seshine. One of the girls made me a pair of sandals, though there was some amusement when she measured my foot.

“A Czentok?” I asked Hroneth, causing all the Vershani to laugh or giggle.

Hroneth shrugged, and his mate motioned to his foot, displaying what was probably a woman’s size five.

“Big is....” Elgar struggled to find the right word.

“Stupid,” Hroneth finished for him, not caring if he hurt my feelings or not. “Stupid and clumsy.”

Then I understood. Since they were a smaller species, they associated large size with brutishness and stupidity.

Hroneth started acting like a clumsy fool, showing me what he meant, dropping his spear and picking up, slamming it into his face. It was like watching a bad version of Rowan Atkison’s Bean character, struggling with the spear.

“Keshek,” Hroneth said. “That’s what we call those that are big and daft.”

Elgar fought to hold back a laugh.

“I like Keshek more than Seshine.” I said. “Sounds like something you eat with chopsticks.”

Hroneth scratched his head. “Keshek we cull when they are young. The city priests use a eethush....” he looked at Elgar.

“A hammer.”

“Yes, this,” Hroneth continued. “The priest hits it into the Keshek boy’s head and he is dead. The body we toss on the street for the dogs to eat.”

I looked at them, hoping they were joking, hoping that their people couldn’t be so absurdly brutal, but neither flinched. It was something they were used to, something almost irrelevant.

“And the parents?”

“Most times the father will dispose of Keshek long before that,” Elgar said, matter-of-factly. “It is a great dishonor to the caste.”

“Dispose of the wife too. Keshek is bad news, Seshine.”

I couldn’t contain my horror, wanting the whole conversation to end, but Hroneth was unaware of my displeasure, and eager to share his culture. “Wife we take to city priest. He cuts her apart and takes her womb to flame. To cleanse the caste.”

“Jesus,” I whispered.

“Eethush,” Hroneth corrected, thinking I had misspoken the name of their ritual hammer. “But no, priest uses a Corzo blade to open the woman. It is fast, she will bleed out in moments.”

Elgar said something in his language that made Hroneth smile.

“What is it?”

“He calls me a liar,” Hroneth said.

“It is not fast, Seshine,” Elgar said. “It is agonizing for them.”

“I was trying to make it easier for you,” the other added. “You look like a woman who is with the child sickness.”

“Me?”

Hroneth laughed, motioning at my face. “You show worry, so I meant to soften the words.”

“So it’s pretty bad, huh?”

Elgar continued, “The female’s insides are cut apart and thrown to the flames while she still lives. The priest makes a spell ... magic, you know this?”

I nodded.

“It binds the flesh as one, even if it already outside of her.”

I looked at them, confused.

Hroneth motioned at two things, one in each hand. Then did as if one was burning, then the other, and he smiled when I finally understood.

After the girls were finished, they bowed and left the room. The two guards resumed their posts outside, and I had the feeling of a man in prison. I walked to the door and found it unlocked, but just as I peeked out; Elgar came over, barring my way.

“You need anything, Seshine?” one of the girls said.

I shook my head and went back inside.

They hadn’t let me keep one of the girls in the room, nor had they let me stay with them by myself. When I gestured to the bed, letting the guards know what I meant to do with her, they just scoffed.

“They are just chamber girls,” Hroneth said.

So I was alone, and kept at bay. I could beat both guards, and the next hundred, but then what? Take the ship? No, I was a prisoner by my own doing, and despite the soft bed and a balcony that gave me an impressive view from the rear of the ship, I would have rather been back on the pirate ship, whose name I couldn’t remember.

I would have rather been anywhere but here.

The balcony looked cramped, designed for a shorter people, so I just leaned against the glass, looking at the swirling purple and orange skies of Shard World, wondering if I would ever find my way home. There was a way, hidden out there in the mists, a machine I had built with Mr. Haha’s help that now lay abandoned atop one of the smaller shards. But it would be nearly impossible to find without my own ship. Shard World was many thousands of miles across, and besides, to get the thing working again I would need a special focusing crystal that I might never find. We had carved one out of the back of the behemoth beneath the lakes that I had ridden to defeat the Mist Army. After the battle, in our desperate escape, I had lost sight of the monster, so it had quite likely fallen off into the void, lost forever. Along with all my hopes of ever returning home.

It was hopeless, I knew that now, but there was no way to settle into the new paradigm, no way to get used to living among a race of creatures with a culture that made ancient Sparta look benevolent and kind by comparison. It was either that or a band of pirates who would just as soon toss me overboard in my sleep. There had been no goodbye, nor even a minor care. I just walked off, ignored and forgotten, much like when I had been sent here in “punishment.” Maybe this was what I deserved: to lead Drovani’s army to victory so his monstrous people could rule over some other just-as-horrible folk.

I searched for patterns in the wailing mists, for a face, for something to guide me, but I saw nothing, just a whirlpool of colors in the distance. I had no bearings, no lighthouse to lead me home. Hell, there was no home to go to, and I had no ship to steer. The winds were pushing me along endlessly, but to no end, with no purpose. Time meant nothing here, with no sun to mark its passing. I tried sleeping, but my mind was restless, my body hotter than ever. Whenever my mind drifted away, it would seek her out, that rose that had ensnared me, made my soul whole, and mended my broken spirit. She was distant even in my heart, taken from me even in my dreams; ever farther than I could reach. Her face was a ghostly memory of its beauty, undefined and easy to forget. Such a rare beauty, such a kind soul, such a hard blow she had caused me. A wound that would never heal, that would always bleed in longing for her. She faded, despite all my efforts, becoming one with the nothingness of the far void, slipping from my memory, spiraling downward to nothingness, darker than a starless night.

“Madelyne,” I whispered, but it was like for the first time, a harsh rasp on my throat as if I had never spoken before.

Something moved in the dark within my room, dancing through the shadows like a dream, and I blinked, wondering if I was awake or asleep, but it was the same whether my eyelids were open or closed. The whirling of the mists was now meandering through the room, trailing a figure in a tall robe, a wonderful creature that only had one name.

“Madelyne.”

She responded to my voice by coming to the edge of my bed, letting her robe fall back to the wisps that trailed her. Her face glowed amid the dark, and her touch as she ambled up the bed toward me was like the coming of the sun. She eased up my body, as she moved into the bed, her face coming to rest in my hands and her body hard against mine, but her face was too bright for me to see, consumed by forces that I had no control over, taken away from me with a violence that stood in contrast to her gentle touch. The memory of her face lingered, if only for a moment, long enough for her to speak to me, for her to say one word....

“Wake.”

I was in the bed, naked, spread eagle, and coated in sweat. Around me were a dozen figures, the only one of which I recognized was Drovani, standing at the edge, just where Apogee had come and vanished to.

“Wake, Seshine,” he said.

Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and felt them come to focus as a royal retinue entered my room. These soldiers were armed with heavy weapons and laden down with feathered ceremonial armor that made Hroneth and Elgar’s stuff look like a child’s toys. Neither my guards nor my serving girls were anywhere in sight.

“You are beckoned to council, my friend,” Drovani continued. “I did not expect to summon you, or I would have given you fair warning.”

I rolled out of bed and threw on the toga, still foggy, still haunted by the image of Apogee, so close and real.