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twenty

Carnaxa

K ing Atlas doesn’t even look towards us as he continues, “Women are not permitted at the plal ryow. When she was removed she argued and then when she was under guard she physically struck two members of the Prel .”

My thigh begins to hurt again at the mention of the plal ryow , even though Ereon just applied more paste before we came here. But it’s the flaring rage at how he addresses Siphonie that has me fisting my hands at my side. The King goes on, “I was also recently told that before that, she assaulted Sache Ataiun. ”

Thylas starts to open his mouth but Rhenor beats him to it. “My wife meant no harm, I assure you. She was worried for her cousin as the culture of Shaston differs greatly from where she grew up.”

“That may be true, as you also spoke out during the ceremony before being removed. You quickly gained your composure.” Atlas still holds the door to the whipping post open and sighs. “But it is still against our laws for any woman to strike a man of any status. Come and let’s get this over with. Six lashes and she will remember where she is and understand her place here.”

“Forgive me, King Atlas,” Thylas begins, his face paler than before, “surely you do not think I would allow a member of the royal family from Antalis to be flogged by you or your men. Bêlit Siphonie is with child, she is also King Clennom’s niece, so it would be considered an act of war against Antalis if you harm her.”

My fingers now tremble at the thought of a flogging, especially for Siphonie. With what Ereon said earlier, I must be silent, speaking up would only make things worse.

Because you aren’t important here.

Atlas nods at Sache Ataiun , who grabs Siphonie’s arm and starts hauling her through the small space. She screams and fights against him, tears streaming down her cheeks as she is placed in front of the King. I start to walk towards her on instinct, but Ereon grabs my forearm and pulls me back. I pull my arms away from him but he shakes his head again.

“Father,” Ereon speaks from beside me, “it is true that in Antalis, to hit a woman with child is the highest of crimes, aside from rape. Clennom may view this as an act of war.”

“Clennom has enough disorder currently in his kingdom at the moment to worry about what is happening here in mine, but I’m maintaining what is written in our agreement. It is stated that Carnaxa and her entourage will be safe — and she will be, she’ll just learn her place. And Ambassador” — the King turns his cruel eyes to Thylas — “you will exact the punishment on Bêlit Siphonie , since as you say, you are King Clennom’s representative. It would be his duty here in Shaston to dole out the lashings, but he isn’t here.”

All color leaves Thylas’ face at the pronouncement. His eyes blink rapidly and he licks his lips nervously. My eyes can’t focus on anyone in the room, instead dancing from one person to the next. There is nothing I can do.

Rhenor runs up to where Siphonie stands. “I’ll take her lashings. Let her go. She is my wife, my responsibility, and I will take them. I have no other heirs but the one she carries. I would hate to jeopardize it.” His words sound almost heartless, but I know he’s trying to find something that Atlas will understand to change his mind and help Siph.

Siphonie’s knees fall to the floor with a crunch. Thylas just stands shaking his head. “No. No one is getting whipped. We will figure out something else. King Atlas, tell us what you need.”

The King grabs the whip from his side and throws it at Thylas’ feet. “While I normally don’t accept exchanges, I’ll allow Bêl Rhenor to take the punishment. I did not realize it was your first, considering your age. So I need you, Ambassador, to do your duty. ”

“He will.” Rhenor looks to Thylas. Rhenor picks up the whip at Thylas’ feet and hands it to him, forcing his hands to wrap around it before returning his attention to the King. “He will do what’s required of him or I will permit you, King Atlas or Sache Ataiun, to deliver the punishment.”

Thylas nods faintly. Sache Ataiun removes his hands from Siphonie, who is still on the floor and grabs Rhenor by the biceps. We all follow King Atlas out to the whipping post in the center of a raised platform which is also covered by tarps to protect from the sun’s rays.

Standing beside Siphonie, we both struggle not to tremble. Our hands tangle together as we watch Rhenor strip off his shirt. The crowd gathers beyond the platform and begins to shout and yell in excitement for the cruel practices still held in this kingdom.

I stare at those in the crowd. Some are fully clothed, protected from the sun, but it’s those who aren’t that catch my attention. Women, men, and even children are covered in burns and scars from previous burns. They dart about trying to find shadows extended from the buildings to lessen their wounds. An odorous fog begins to slightly emanate from the crowd and the stench of it all is overwhelming. Looking around, I wonder what is causing the fog and think it must be dust, when I realize it’s coming from people’s skin. It’s smoke. They are being burned. Nausea builds inside my stomach and I lean back from it all. Tears threaten to spill at the cruel treatment these people must endure. Something to change once we can .

I cough and cover my mouth. Siphonie remains steadfast looking at her husband, her hand now grazing against the shell in her chest. Rhenor breathes slowly as he approaches us. His chest, covered in light red and blonde hair, shows the scars he’s received over the years. He reaches up and pulls Siphonie’s hood down a little further before wrapping his hands behind her neck and pulling her close.

“I love you. I’ll survive this, my lil?. Don’t cry. I’d bear the pain of a hundred lashes if it meant keeping you safe from just one.”

She shakes her head. “To protect your heir?”

“No, because I cannot survive a day without the light your smile provides.” He kisses her deeply and she grabs onto his collar as if she can stop what’s about to happen.

They might not have chosen each other, but they have found love and for that I want to smile. I look away, giving them as much privacy as I can right now. I find Ereon as he stands behind his father, his eyes searching the horizon, but he makes no move to speak and anger builds inside me.

Rhenor turns to me, the look on his face solemn. “Princess, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stop what happened to you after Nle Shom . Maybe this will be a punishment of sorts for not being able to protect you.”

I reach out to grab his bicep and squeeze, as I hear Siphonie’s small cries beside me. “It wasn’t your fault, Rhenor. I’m sorry I can’t stop what’s about to happen now.” Rhenor nods.

Ereon’s sad brown eyes meet mine for just a moment, before his look of indifference rises to the surface. I thought he might try to stop this, but as he straightens his shoulders, I realize he won’t. Anger like I haven’t felt before intensifies as Rhenor walks to the post, a member of the Prel pulls his arms around the pole and shackles them so he can’t run or turn from the incoming strike.

Thylas stands just to the side, the whip hanging limp in his hand. He walks up to Rhenor and hangs his head. Soft, irritated whispers are barely heard above the roaring crowd. After Rhenor finishes speaking, Thylas steps back and takes a deep breath before raising his hand, a sharp whistle hushes the crowd as the whip meets Rhenor’s back. Siphonie buries her face in the curve of my neck. I rub at her shoulders, my eyes pleading with Ereon as he looks at me. His fingers twitch at his sides as if he’s thinking.

Thylas raises his hand twice more and no one cheers. No one yells out. Small strips of bright red appear across Rhenor’s skin, but even he doesn’t scream. Thylas raises his hand again.

“Stop! Snuksech! ” Ereon’s voice shatters the silence, but it doesn’t stop the images that come barreling into me.

Black hair. Screaming. My father, holding a whip. Fighting against the strength of my father’s soldier. Blood dripping on the stone because he stayed with me. Thylas. Thylas stayed with me when my mother died and my father whipped him for it. I remember taking care of those wounds when he was still asleep thanks to the tonic from the healers, but when he woke up ... when he woke up ... I don’t remember the rest of the memory.

But I see now how Thylas is struggling to breathe, how his fingers tremble against the leather handle. He’s doing exactly to Rhenor, what happened to him all those lunar years ago .

“ Bêl Rhenor took the punishment without screaming, that earns him half the limit. Those are the rules of snuksech . Bêlit Siphonie was assigned six lashings and he has received three. Let him go.”

His father chews on the inside of his cheek before signaling Rhenor’s release. Siphonie lets go of me, a sigh of relief escaping both of our lips. Rhenor stumbles towards us, sweat coursing over his brow. He reaches Siphonie, who wraps her arms around his waist. He kisses the top of her hair. “I told you I would survive.”

She snorts. “Stubborn ass.”

Thank you, I mouth to Ereon who simply nods.

Thylas stands motionless near the blood that was spilled against the planks of wood. He turns to us and the King holds up his hand, halting him. “Ambassador, you were told to issue six lashings.”

Thylas’ head snaps up. “And I dispensed the punishment as required. Rhenor’s six lashes were reduced to three, he is free to go by your laws.”

“He is free to go. You still have to hand out three more.”

Thylas looks at him with a puzzled expression, trying to understand the meaning. As I glance over, I notice Ereon absentmindedly tracing the buttons of his shirt, lost in thought. I look up at Rhenor expecting an explanation, but he just shakes his head.

“If another here should declare snuksech , they are the ones who will receive the remainder of the lashings. My son knew this. Surely you don’t think us so weak of a kingdom that my word is not the law. I said there was to be six lashings and so there shall be, but now ...” His eyes darken before he continues, “I think there will be five more added. Saves me the trouble. I was going to have Sache Ataiun dole out the punishment to my son anyway for what happened during the plal ryow. ”

Ereon tosses his shirt to the ground. “Don’t worry about the restraints. I won’t run.” He makes his way closer to the post and stops just short as the soldier returns to his father’s side.

My blood feels as if it’s racing through my veins as my heart speeds up. He can’t do this, to willingly sacrifice himself for someone else. “Stop!” I yell at the King. “This isn’t right.”

“And here I was beginning to think you were the one Antalian who knew to keep their mouth shut,” the King says. “Perhaps you should receive some lashes as well, you aren’t with child after all.”

“She’ll remain quiet,” Ereon says, rolling his shoulders.

Siphonie grabs my wrist, pulling me back to her and wraps her hand around my waist. “His back ...” Siphonie whispers.

As Ereon turns, I take in the welts I felt at the consummation ceremony. The marks he tried to use to distract the men so they wouldn’t look at me. The marks on Ereon have scabbed over and are less red.

“Prince Ereon is already hurt. I can’t whip him without causing possible disfigurement.” Thylas turns to the King, who just shrugs his shoulders.

“He made his choice. Begin.”

Ereon winks at me, a brave facade in place, before he turns toward Thylas. “Come on, Ambassador. You’ve been wanting a chance to beat me since you met me. Don’t get soft on me now.” He braces his hands on either side of the pole and the crowd roars again. Seeing a Prince whipped, that’s what has them eager. I look back out at the crowd and imagine if I was one of them. They see him as the evil son of their ruler, of course they would applaud his anguish.

A whistle echoes and Ereon’s back becomes bloody instantly as the beads tear into his warm ivory skin. He doesn’t scream or yell, but I know no one will help him by calling out snuksech. Not again. The muscles in his back tighten as another lash crosses it.

Thylas’ face seems to go from one of pain to one of stone as he continues the lashings. His brow furrows as if this is nothing but a job he must get done, and I wonder what’s going on in his mind. Thylas’ eyes glaze over and his breaths are ragged— judging by the rising and falling of his chest. The next two lashes come quick and still Ereon makes no sound but his knees shake. Crescent shapes must mark my palm as I hold my hand tightly in a fist.

On the fifth lash, Ereon’s blood speckles across Thylas’ golden armor. I watch as Thylas’ glazed-over expression fills with hate before the whip slices once more against Ereon’s skin. Ereon’s knees give out and a gasp leaves my lips. He lies on the ground for only a second before he gathers his strength and crawls up on his knees. His hands reach out to the post and hold on to it once again. He nods and Thylas releases the last lashing. Thylas’ face quickly changes from one of violence to one of confusion.

Look at how he enjoys it.

Thylas drops the whip and briskly walks back to the small room we were in earlier. He barely nods his head as he passes the King .

I rush to Ereon as he kneels in a pool of his and Rhenor’s blood. I look for a patch of skin on his back to touch, to comfort, but I don’t see an area that’s not been marked. Instead, I put my fingers on his shoulder and he looks up at me. He fumbles to find purchase as he grapples for a spot on the wood to push himself up. Ereon stumbles once before I grab his arm and throw it around my shoulders. “I got you.”

He smiles at me before I turn him around and we begin to walk in the same direction as Thylas did.

“That’s what I say to you, you aren’t sup —” He hisses at the pain in his back. “You aren’t supposed to have to say it to me.”

“Ereon” — his father blocks our path — “where are you going?”

“King Atlas, my husband received all of his lashings with honor and without screaming. I would like to take him back to our room and treat the wounds so they don’t get infected.” I just want to leave, to get away from here.

“Married for less than a moon cycle and already she speaks for you?”

Ereon struggles but stands straighter. “No, Father.”

“Very well, because I need you to gather your wits. You’ve been gone for some time and there are many more that need punishment and it’s your job as the Prince to see that it is done. Just as it’s always been. The prisoners are already ready for you.” He nods his head to the left where a stairway leads to a group of twenty or more people ranging in ages of nine to one older than my father .

I cover my mouth with my palm. He isn’t expected to whip all of these people, is he? What could a child have done to receive such a punishment?

“Princess Carnaxa, as future Queen-consort you will watch as they receive their punishments so you can learn more about the kingdom that owns you. It was you who caused their fates. They were all caught stealing from the caravan that brought you here. The bastards were stealing from royalty. They are lucky the payment is only whippings and not death. It will even give them a small reprieve from the sun for a moment. Come now Ereon, I would like to have lunch before the sun is in the middle of the sky.”

Ereon’s legs wobble, but he seems used to having to ignore the pain I know he must feel. He removes his arm from my shoulders and peers down at me. His eyes search mine before his expression turns distant. “I’m sorry ...” His voice becomes flat as he closes his eyes and finds the words. “I had hoped you would have remembered who I was with you before you saw the monster I have to be.”

He walks slowly to the whip that lies on the ground in a pool of his blood. He leans down and picks it up, cleaning the handle on the back of his pants. He straightens and rolls his shoulders, his back still bright with ribbons of crimson. He clears his throat before he yells, “First prisoner.”