The Dukes of Odwego finds Astra (secret necromancer, former nun, and displaced librarian of Qordashi) drifting ever farther from the only life she knew and deeper into a world she never expected to see. The powerful, winding Hoshikwazu river leads her, her injured best friend Traz, and the ever-enigmatic Xavai to a city that glitters with wealth but reeks of corruption. Within its walls, sour magic whispers, alliances shift like silt, and every kindness hides a price. To save the people she loves, Astra must rely on her wits, her courage, and maybe, maybe, a little necromancy.
Previously: Astra faces one of her worst nightmares...
They followed Riki’o across the square to where a large elevated platform was in the eastern corner, draped with curtains layered up and closed to protect the occupants, the massive oxen that pulled it into place standing placidly in their harnesses. A substantial number of soldiers surrounded it, all of them heavily armed with an array of weapons, including lances and swords and staffs. In front of it was a small area staked out and cordoned off, with hay piled up in it and a large, stained wooden block in the middle. Astra did not need to unwind her magic to know that a great and terrible number of ghosts haunted that deadly wooden block.
Astra shivered and turned back to look at the platform. An old man appeared, pushing one of the heavy curtains aside, his face streaked with tears as he toddled down the rickety stairs shoved up against the platform. There was a cry from the crowd and a young woman broke free to run to him, and together they supported each other as they disappeared into the crowd.
“Family member pleading for mercy.” Riki’o’s voice was flat and without emotion.
“This does not speak well of our chances,” Xavai said heavily.
Astra ignored him. Hosar whispered to her mother, and then glided away into the crowd.
There was some pomp and circumstance that followed, followed by a local priest wearing vestments of Jaga stood up. Astra was surprised to see Hosar at his side, wearing a simple green tunic embroidered on the front with a compass rose in silver thread.
“You did not mention that your daughter is of the diaconate,” Astra whispered.
Riki’o’s mouth was set in a firm line. “No offense to your beliefs, pilgrim, but I am not a follower of the Four Winds and her choice to become a deacon was not made with my blessing. I had hoped for her to follow in my stead.”
Astra bristled a little. “It is a worthy goal she seeks,” she said and would have continued in the vein if Xavai had not stepped on her foot.
The priest set out his ceremonial compass, setting the four legs of its stand…wrong. They were in the wrong position; they had to be aligned to the center points between the four directions, but he had them set to mirror the corners of the square. He then recited the Prayer of the Four Winds, the primary litany of the faith, the one long prayer that everyone could recite without second guessing a single verse, and like the compass stand, it was wrong. He skipped at least two verses—minor reflections on the ephemeral nature of north-bound cirrus clouds—and while it hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things, it made Astra’s skin itch. She looked around but no one else seemed to notice, or if they did, were upset by it….except Hosar, whose pinched expression probably mirrored Astra’s own.
Astra returned her focus to him and followed as he barely stumbled through a full Invocation of Mercy ceremony, which seemed odd for a day of executions, or at the very least ironic. He then gave a long sermon on the value of obedience. The magistrate, off to one side and standing just in front of the dukes’ platform, nodded along. Hosar stood still and blank faced throughout, assisting as required, but only that much.
When the priest finished, Astra leaned over to Riki’o. “Has he been dedicated to service long?”
She looked at Astra, confused. “The magistrate?”
“No, the priest.”
“Oh.” She thought for a moment. “Years. He was instated by the dukes while I was away.”
“He was not trained at Qordashi.” Astra spoke with authority, and got Xavai’s elbow in her side. “I mean, I don’t think?”
The doctor was still looking askance at her. Then she shrugged. “It is my understanding that most of the current staff were brought in by the magistrate after an attempted coup from within the palace.” She paused. “Hosar does not like him, but she speaks little about it.”
Just then, a soldier shouted for silence. The executions were set to begin. A familiar, small caged wagon rolled out and Astra shuddered, recognizing it from the night before when she had visited the shrine. As before, it had three people in it, or four, she realized with horror, as one of them was a baby held on the hip of a very angry-looking woman.
The heaviest outer curtains were drawn back and tied, leaving only a nearly transparent veil hanging in place, the dukes barely visible beyond it, their figures ominous shadows under the canopy, only the gleam of their jewelry shining through like points of cold, unfeeling light.
It was announced that the three adults were being punished for scheming against the dukes and inciting civil disobedience. Two of them, the younger man and woman, stared out of the cage defiantly. The older man behind them looked exhausted, tear tracks dried on his face. They were led out of the cart by several soldiers, and then Doctor Riki’o’s name was called out by the magistrate.
Astra and Xavai stared at her as she sighed heavily and made her way forward, the crowd parting for her. She did not even address the magistrate, who was clearly annoyed but resigned by the snub, and instead went over to the doomed woman. After a short exchange where the woman appeared to clutch at her child, she handed the baby over to Riki’o, her grief and fear finally giving way to wracking sobs. The man held her back while the soldiers bristled at the display. Riki’o cast a glance up at the dukes, then hurried away, back to stand with Astra and Xavai.
“What you naming this one, Doctor?” An old woman next to them asked.
“Nisun,” Riki’o said curtly.
“Episesh for ‘hope’,” Astra amended.
The old woman nodded approvingly. “You needed another daughter anyway. Too many boys.” She tapped her cane on the ground to make her point and then turned back to the executions.
Riki’o grumbled. “I do not care if she were a boy, or choses to become one. She is losing her family today. That is enough.”
Astra put out her hand and let the infant clutch at her finger. Nisun had to be no more than a year old, and was becoming upset at the realization that she was not being taken back to her mother. It was a good distraction while the crimes were read out by the magistrate, and the first victim taken up to the block, so Astra kept her attention on the agitated child.
The dull sound of an ax cleaving through bone and meat made Astra shudder and gasp. She could not look up, the death was too new, and she would be compelled to watch as the soul dust lifted away or, like so many others, became trapped in its death bed.
No one in the crowd made a noise, and the silence was heavy until the baby started crying.
Riki’o glanced over at Astra, bouncing the distraught child on her hip. “You have not seen an execution before.”
“No. Where I come from…where we come from…I—” she could not finish, realizing for the first time that tears were running down her face.
“She has been sheltered,” Xavai offered, wrapping an arm around Astra’s waist. She leaned into it.
Riki’o accepted that and kept trying to get the baby to calm down. After moment, as looked at Astra and then pushed the baby into her arms. “Focus on Nisun.”
Astra nodded clumsily as she wrapped her arms around the baby, holding it facing her so it could not even catch a glimpse of what was happening to her parents. Xavai shifted to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around both of them. Astra pet the child’s head and tried not to sob during the next two executions. The crowd around them kept silent and grim throughout. Finally, Riki’o turned and pulled out a small jar from one of the pockets of her over-robe. She smeared a bit on her fingers and rubbed it onto the child’s forehead, saying a few words as she drew a sigil. It smelled mossy and damp, but it soothed Astra’s nerves and immediately calmed Nisun. Riki’o heaved a sigh of relief.
Astra let Xavai continue serving as a brace, holding her as tightly as she held Nisun, but otherwise did not move, as if keeping himself in check.
“I can’t…I can’t—” she gulped for air.
“You can and you will, Astra,” he whispered fiercely into her ear. “You will.” With that, he gently pushed her away, just a little, and took her chin in one hand. His thumb absently rubbed against her cheek, wiping away the tears that fell. She looked up into his glistening green eyes and felt like she could get lost in them. She wanted to be far away from death and fear and tragedy. She wanted the life she had made for herself in her library back at Qordashi.
The doctor gently took Nisun out of her arms. “They will be calling applicants now. We must move toward the front.”
Astra nodded. She and Xavai walked together, his strength holding her own will together. Traz needed to be saved. That was what she had to focus on.
Next: A Bargain
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