James Maxey - Greatshadow

Infidel shrugged. “I’m not even terribly respectful of my own beliefs. Anyway, why should you care what people think of your religion? It certainly didn’t do you much good. Banished by your own people for losing a harpoon.”

Aurora’s eyes narrowed. I thought she was about to scold Infidel, but then her expression softened. “I wasn’t banished. I was executed. I was wrapped in chains and taken to an iceberg. My people chiseled a hole in the ice, then buried me in it. My own brother, Tarpok, filled the hole with water so that it would refreeze. Cold cannot harm me, and my people can survive for days without breathing if we do not struggle. Still, I was left to drift in my frozen tomb, completely trapped, doomed to eventually suffocate or starve.”

“But you obviously escaped.”

“The Black Swan rescued me. I don’t know if it was by pure chance, or due to her ability to travel back in time, but she found me after I’d been adrift for little more than a week. I was near death when she freed me. I had no will to live, but she nursed me back to health anyway. She told me that, since I was dead to my people, I could make a new life with her in Commonground. I hope she’s survived.

“I searched the ruins of the barge and found no sign of her. I don’t know what to do if she’s gone forever.”

“She’ll be okay. She strikes me as a survivor,” said Infidel, who by now had found the sea beans. Sea beans aren’t actual beans; they’re a puffy weed that grows in marshes. They taste like asparagus soaked in saltwater. They make my mouth pucker, but Infidel likes their crisp snap. “You were going to quit working for the Black Swan anyway. What do you care?”

“As priestess, my whole life was devoted to serving others. Without service, I have no purpose. I didn’t always approve of the Black Swan’s actions. If she had any greater goal for her life other than accumulating wealth, I never learned of it. Yet, serving her gave structure to my days. I know I was only another employee to her, but she was my world.”

Infidel rooted around in the sack once again and pulled out a jug with a cork in it, looking at it skeptically. “What’s this?”

“Fresh water,” said Aurora. “I don’t drink spirits.”

Infidel popped the cork and chugged down several cupfuls. “Mmm. I needed that. After a big fight, I’m always thirsty for days.”

“It must take a lot of energy, to do the things you do,” said Aurora. “There aren’t many people who can say they’ve killed a dragon.”

Infidel shrugged. “Yeah. It takes a lot out of me. But, not as much as you might think. My strength is more magic than muscles.”

“What is the source of your magic?” asked Aurora.

Infidel stared at her, obviously annoyed by the question. Then, to my surprise, she flashed her what-the-hell grin. “Okay,” she said. “You know that there used to be a primal dragon of the forest named Verdant. He was killed, like, a thousand years ago by the first Knight of the Book, the original King Brightmoon.”

Aurora nodded. “I’m familiar with the legend.”

“It’s not legend, it’s history,” said Infidel. “Brightmoon killed Verdant, who had been weakened by the decimation of the forests near his lair. The blood of the beast was drained and dried, forming a dark green powder. A gilded casket of this blood was kept at the Brightmoon Cathedral. When Knights of the Book are initiated, they’re given a spoonful of the stuff, dissolved in wine. It grants them a small measure of the dragon’s strength and toughness.”

“Blood magic,” said Aurora. “I thought the church disapproved of such things.”

“The Church is just a wealth of contradictions,” said Infidel. “They preach peace, then raise armies of violent tempered men to impose it. They sing the virtues of forgiveness and mercy, but build torture chambers to focus the faith of those who’ve gone astray. Dabbling in blood magic is a sin for you and me, but priests don’t have to play by the same rules. Since they decree what is and isn’t a sin, a priest could eat babies and pick his teeth with the bones and still be praised for his rectitude.”

“I’m starting to see how you earned the name ‘Infidel.’”

Infidel shook her head. “The church doesn’t give a damn about my opinions. It’s my actions that put me on the naughty list. When I was fifteen, I stole their casket of dragon blood. Knights had been gobbling down this stuff for centuries, so it was almost gone, but there was still about a pound of it caked up in the corners. I went at it with my fingernails and polished off everything that was left. At first, I didn’t think anything had happened to me. When the priest came to get me from the inner sanctum, he found me crouched down over the empty casket, blood caked around my lips and under my finger nails. The sleeves of my wedding gown were green with — ”

“Wait,” said Aurora, holding up her hand. “Wedding gown? Is this part of the story about you once being engaged to Lord Tower?”

Infidel pressed her lips tightly together, as if contemplating whether to say more. After several long seconds, she said, “Engaged isn’t the right word. It implies that he asked me to marry him and I said yes. The truth isn’t so pretty. I was sold to him.”

Aurora raised her eyebrows.

“My birth name was Innocent Brightmoon. I was the king’s third daughter, but the first to survive to breeding age.”

“A princess,” said Aurora.

“It’s not as good a job as it sounds,” said Infidel. “‘Princess’ is just a fancy label for a high-priced slave-whore. My wedding to the firstborn male heir of the Tower family had been arranged before I was born. The Towers were immensely wealthy; there were all sorts of political and economic reasons that the Tower and Brightmoon lines were fated to mingle. My father had decided that his first eligible daughter would marry the first eligible son of the Tower family, and that was that. No one ever asked my opinion on the matter.”

“Still…” said Aurora. “You were born into luxury. Life couldn’t have been all bad.”

“Couldn’t it?” Infidel asked. She sighed. “I guess, from the outside, it looked like I was living a life of wealth. But, it wasn’t my wealth, or my life. I was little more than a doll, a pretty thing to be dressed in gowns and decorate my father’s court. I was never allowed to make a single decision. I lived in a palace where court dinners were held, with meals literally fit for a king, and all I’d be given to eat would be a meager salad. I wasn’t allowed to taste dessert because my wedding gown had been designed before I was even conceived, and it was important that my waist be slender enough that I might get mistaken for a wasp. I never wore shackles, but I was a prisoner all the same.”

Aurora nodded. “So you decided to run away.”

“I wish I could say my actions were that deliberate. My education, such as it was, didn’t teach me much about making good choices. When my wedding day finally came, I could barely think. I felt like a caged rat; my mind was darting all over the place, looking for any escape, but I found nothing.”

“You must have really hated the young Lord Tower.”

Infidel made a gagging noise. “Hated doesn’t begin to cover it. He’s such a sanctimonious idiot; he can’t fart without running to the nearest priest to offer repentance. He believes every lie the church has ever crafted. You wouldn’t believe his awkward, ritualistic attempts to court me. I could tell he really had no choice in this matter either. If he’d been a little rebellious about it, who knows? Maybe I might have liked him. I mean, he was good-looking, and he was always winning jousting tournaments, so he wasn’t without a certain physical charm. But, his attempts to write love poems were cringe inducing. They sounded like sermons! ‘Praise the creator who this day has blessed me with the bounty of your chaste lips, blah blah bluhhh.’” She stuck out her tongue. “We never even held hands.”