The Chosen One: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (The Airluds Trilogy Book 2) Page 3
Flea spoke up, bringing me back to the here and now. "The whispers of it are everywhere. Among those loyal to the rebellion and the Goddess. They say that the one prophesied to take the Godling's place has come and this rebellion will make right millennia of wrongs done in the name of the false gods."
"But how did you come to think this place was anything to do with the rebellion?" Rama pushed, moving so close that his face was in Flea's, their noses almost touching.
Flea braced herself for the violence she saw promised in his bright blue eyes, but she didn't back down. "A while back the word got out that a wife of the Godling was being returned to her home in disgrace. Back to Westsealund. The town I was living in is right on the border with Westsealund, but this side. In the Badlunds. For people who don't like the rules of the kinglunds." She puffed out her meagre chest as if proud that she was one of them.
"I'd been hiding on the streets ever since Mam died. She caught a whore's disease and died, they said. But I think her heart just broke." She paused to fight back tears.
I wondered if my men were empathising with her in this moment. I looked at each of them and saw compassion and understanding on their faces. Except for Rama's. He was still cautious and suspicious.
"See, my Dah was a fisherman in Westsealund and we lived in this little village along the coast. There was this man in the village. A bad man. Not a fisherman. And when Dah was away at sea he'd come 'round. I was eight suncycles old when he started doing that, and he used to try to make friends with me, giving me little gifts and paying me compliments. It made my skin crawl. I finally told Dah and he threatened to beat him up if he didn't keep his distance. And he did, until Dah didn't come home. I was ten by then.
"Mam was really scared what he'd do without Dah there to protect me, so she packed us up and we ran away one night. We ended up in some big town I can't remember the name of, and Mam only had one way to keep food and a roof over our heads. But she dressed me as a boy and told me that I needed to do anything I had to do to stay alive, except whore myself.
"When she got sick and couldn't work anymore I started stealing − breaking into people's houses. I was good at it. When she died it was easier to give up our room and find a squat on the streets. I was good at staying hidden. It was a gift."
She paused to draw breath, but she didn't look up to see how we were taking her story. It was like she'd become lost in it. Forgetting that we were even there.
"I've lived on my own for more than a suncycle. When I started getting taller, I started tagging along with some of the gangs. Not part of them, but on their edge. They didn't know what to make of me so they let me tag along.
"They would listen in on the rebels' whispers. It was easy enough for the likes of us. A few came from seafaring families and the Goddess was real to us. So when the whispers started that the rebellion was beginning we were excited. I was excited."
"This is all well and good but I want to know how you found out about this place," Rama barked, edging in again. During her story he'd backed off.
I could understand his thinking. Our Airling Centre was supposed to be a secret. Not even the rebels were supposed to know where it was. We were the rebels' secret weapon, and if the Godling found out what we were doing, and where, he would have his whole army here to wipe us out in our next breath. In fact, if he even got a hint of where I was, he'd send his whole army to wipe us out. He hated me that much.
I felt a pang at that thought. I had once been my father's favourite daughter. Now I was his most hated enemy.
"As I said, about a mooncycle or so ago the whispers started that one of the Godlings wives was being returned to her sealund to be put to death. A lot of us wanted to go to her rescue. I know I did. But before we could think of what to do, the word came that she'd been rescued by airling riders. And that those riders were going to create an army to fight the Godling. And you didn't need to be big and strong to join their army."
She looked at Rama with steady intensity, almost willing him to challenge her further. Or to deny what she said.
"Then I accidentally tore my tunic and the lads saw I was a girl. They were mad that I'd fooled them and they were going to... 'to treat me like the whore I probably was,' they said. I had let my guard down with them. I know it now. I'd started to think of them as friends. Though I was never that to them."
I could hear the tears in her voice again, and even Rama seemed affected by them this time. I didn't want to hear the rest. I didn't want to hear that she'd been raped by those wild boys who were probably just like my husbands had been when they were young.
"A man was passing the alley when they were saying what they'd do to me. I... I was crying. I admit it. The man was a big fisherman. I'd seen him with the rebels. He had hair like yours, Lady, but threaded through with silver. When he told the boys to stop they did, because they knew who he was, too, and they respected him. He sent them away, and then told me that I could go with him if I wanted.
"I said I wanted to join the airling army. He looked quite shocked I knew about it. And after questioning me about what I knew, he told me to come here. That being a girl or being young wouldn't matter here. He gave me some coins for a new tunic and some food, and I set out that very night. And here I am." She threw out her hands as a performer might, to signal the end of her tale.
For a moment the room was silent. I even noted that Bertil and Micca were standing by the door, intently taking note of the interaction. Although, as they were both nearly deaf, I had to wonder how much of Flea's story they had actually heard.
"Did this fisherman give you his name?" Rama asked.
"Beyen. He said to tell you Beyen had sent me.
At the name the room lost a lot of its tension. My mother's sweetheart was called Beyen, and he was likely moving backwards and forwards across the territory between Westsealund and the Badlunds gathering support for the rebellion. I hoped he would stay safe for my mother's sake. And for mine. I had come to like and respect the quiet seaman while he lived among us.
"You can stay and help with the airlings, but you can't join the army when it comes time," Darkin said, his jaw set stubbornly. "Airsha will need help the further into her pregnancy she goes. Her mother will come for the birth, but she'll need a female with her before then."
I saw his brothers forming mental ranks behind him. This was a girl and she needed their protection. Life had been hard for her up until now, but it would not continue to be. And being an airling trooper was hard.
Flea suddenly looked at Calun and said, "I know I will. Airlings have always called to me."
Startled, I looked at Calun and he opened his mind to me. He was as shocked as the rest of us when Flea seemed to answer his thought, which had been that once she'd tried riding an airling she might not be so determined to be a trooper.
I considered the possibility that he'd accidently communicated with her as he did with the airlings and his brothers. He did that with images and gestures. Nobody but me could hear him talk to himself in words. I could only do it because I could be in his head, as he could be in mine. We didn't do it all the time, but we could whenever we chose to.
It was a two-way version of the communication that existed between his brothers and me. But in their case I had to be emotionally stirred up for my mental barriers to come down. With Calun it was not just an emergency beacon of sorts, it was an on-going closeness that reminded me of the bond I'd had with my twin brother when we were young. But with Calun I was even more connected. And certainly more loved.
My brother had grown away from me over the suns, once we were separated and I was forced to remain in the harem while he became a youth-in-training. Of course, I didn't stay in the harem, and that was how I'd learned to fight: by following my brother around in the shadows and passing myself off as him when I could.
"What are you two doing?" Flea suddenly demanded in surprise, looking from Calun to me and back again. Some of the disrespect she had shown me in small ways since her a
rrival was apparent in her expression.
"Why, what do you think is happening?" I asked with interest, ignoring her feminine challenge. It felt like I had something she wanted, and she considered I had no right to it.
She shrugged and seemed to get edgy and cautious for the first time. I was starting to wonder if answering Calun's thought had been an accident on her part. She hadn't meant to show us what she could do.
"You both suddenly went quiet," she answered slowly, feeling her way by eyeing each of us in turn.
"Calun is always quiet. He can't speak," Jaron pointed out.
Flea frowned and looked at Calun in bemusement. "Yes, he can. I heard him plain as day."
I went back into Calun's mind and heard him speak directly to Flea. 'Can you do this with everyone?'
She shrugged and looked away from him. "It comes and goes. When I was young it was just fleeting whiffs of thought I used to think was just my imagination. In the last mooncycle it has become easier somehow."
'Another Air Mistress coming into her power at puberty?' Calun asked me privately.
I nodded in amazement. Could it be possible? Could a fisherman's daughter be an Elemental Mistress?
"What are you talking about!" she demanded in fearful annoyance.
"Get used to it. They do that all the time," Jaron told her easily.
"Do what?!" she was growing agitated, and tears had formed in the corner of her eyes. I felt her pain and confusion. It was like we were intentionally denying her, by closing her out. She didn't know how we did it, but she was sure it was me who was excluding her.
Jaron looked at his brothers and then at me. I nodded, wanting to make up for the unintended slight.
"I can be trusted. I promise you, I can be trusted." She answered the unspoken question that had been passing between us all.
"She can read our minds? This is going to get very uncomfortable, given our lifestyle," Jaron said aloud, humour written all over his face. He was probably thinking about how often he thought about sex.
"Men always think about sex. Or food. It's very boring. I don't listen to that sort of stuff. Except if it's food and I can find a way to get some."
"To answer your question, Calun and Airsha have a mental bond," Jaron said, his too handsome face showing his discomfort at being overheard. "They can go into each other's heads and have no need to actually talk to each other. If they suddenly go silent, from your point of view, it likely means they have closed themselves off to everyone else. The way that any of us can go off in our own minds and tune the world out."
Flea looked at me and then at Calun. He nodded to her, a gentle smile on his face. They could have been brother and sister, those two. Though his hair was a much darker red than hers, and his eyes were green where hers were hazel, their colouring was distinctly similar, as was the shape of their faces. What if they were related somehow and his gift with mental communication was hers, too, from a common ancestor. A latent Air Mistress?
I had a theory about how magic was passed down. Most people believed that the Godling passed magic down to his offspring when he was taken over by a god; or goddess, depending on your camp. But I thought it was just as likely that a powerful man could gather a harem of latent magical women and they would be responsible for the magical offspring. The fact that in rare instances a magical son in turn could produce a magical daughter might also be evidence that their wives were the ones responsible. If one magical son could produce magical daughters, would not all of them be able to, if the potential flowed through him?
"Do you know for certain that your father was a fisherman? Did you look like him?" I asked, curious to follow my hypothesis through and yet not wanting to insult her dead mother.
She nodded quickly, her slightly snubbed, freckled nose turned up in disgust. "Yes, of course. Why? My parents were very much in love. They wanted more childlings but after me mother couldn't bear any more."
"Do you know why the Godling has the power he does?" I asked gently, probing her depth of knowledge. Most people knew about the Godling, I assumed. But I couldn't be sure.
She answered promptly. "He has magical sons. The gods incarnate through him and give the sons he fathers the magical powers of the gods. But those gods aren't real. The magic really comes from the Goddess."
"Have you heard that there are also magical daughters?" I asked.
She shook her head. "No, of course not. Women can't have magic..." She suddenly stopped and her mouth dropped open. "I don't have magic!"
We all smiled then. "What do you call it? Mental communication is the realm of air. A magical daughter comes into her power at puberty the same as a magical son does."
"No, what I do isn't magic. It's... it's just a talent. Women can't have magic."
Calun looked at me. In my head I saw the room stirring by my magic. I shrugged my agreement and lifted a hand. I might frighten our old retainers by this display, but they would have to know of my power by now.
The curtains at the windows began to billow. That could be explained away by the open window, although the air outside was still.
I flicked up my fingertips and lifted my men's hair from their shoulders, blowing it back as if they were caught in a strong wind. Flea noticed and frowned. When her tunic began to billow a little and the breeze stroked her skin, she gave a little jump.
"What is that? Who did that?" she demanded, turning from one to the other of my men, as if they were playing tricks on her.
"Airsha. She's an Air Mistress. Like you," Jaron told her indulgently.
She turned her wide eyes on me furiously. "If it's you, stop it now!"
I did as she asked. And the air in the room settled immediately.
"I can't do that!" she exclaimed in terror.
"No, you can read people's thoughts. It is another expression of air magic. Prophesy is also an expression of air magic," I explained.
Flea threw herself down into a nearby chair and rested her head in her hands. I felt sorry for her. She was tired and traumatised, after all that she'd been through in the last few days, and now she was being confronted with evidence that the beliefs she took as truth were false. Not only were there daughters of magic, as well as sons, but she was one of them.
"And just to complete your education," Rama said with a touch of malice. "The woman you have been looking down your nose at, while you've been idolising us, is not just an Elemental Mistress, she's the Goddess Incarnate. It'll be Airsha who'll take her father's place, the Godling's place, when the rebellion succeeds in removing him from power."
I shuddered at the emotional clip on the ear he'd given her. Yes, Flea had been treating me like I was just an ordinary female like her, but that was understandable. How could she possibly know who or what I was?
I had picked up from the way she spoke to me, and the looks she sent my way, that she couldn't understand why I could have four legendary Airluds as my husbands. I got the sense that she thought they had let me believe I was their wife to appease me, so I didn't feel like a whore. I was just a small, fragile-looking woman, not much older than she was, as far as she was concerned. How could I possibly deserve the honour of being wife to even one of these handsome and respected men? And what man would take his wife against a wall in public? She had likely pitied me for my unrealistic aspirations.
It hadn't bothered me that she underestimated me, but clearly it had annoyed Rama. Which I found rather amusing, given he'd accused me of looking down my nose at them when I first arrived at their hovel. He didn't like anyone looking down on him or those he loved. That warmed my heart a little because now I was one of those he loved. Much to his dismay.
Flea must have read the other's thoughts, agreeing with Rama, because she turned her big round eyes on me again. "I... I didn't mean to insult you. I just thought you were ordinary. Like me."
Jaron laughed with delight. "Ordinary? How many women do you know who can whip up a sandstorm or open up the earth so it can swallow her enemies whole? Airsha is as
far from ordinary as it's possible to be. And with the exception of Calun and his mental talents and way with airlings, we legendary Airluds are the ordinary ones."
He then did the most extraordinary thing. With utter reverence, my youngest husband came to my side, bent on one knee before me, and bowed his head. While I was trying to recover from this sudden show of obeisance, Darkin, Rama and Calun followed his lead and also dropped to one knee before me.
I gave a little laugh and hit Jaron on the shoulder. "Get up you idiots. You don't bow to me. We're equals. Are you trying to convince Flea she's come to a mad house?"
To complete my mortification, Bertil and her husband dropped painfully to their knees, too, bowing their heads in respect and awe. I didn't think they knew what they were doing. They were just following along to stay on the safe side.
Flea dropped to her knees as well, but her face was turned up to me. I saw bemused awe written there, as if she was still trying to make sense of what was happening.
"Enough, everybody! Get up. I'm not my father. I don't need people bowing and scraping before me. I am ordinary. It's the Goddess who is the extraordinary one. I'm just the lucky one she decided to use as her incarnation. My gifts are hers." I made it clear by the sarcastic emphasis I put on the word that being lucky was not exactly how I saw it.
Jaron reached out and took my hand, kissing its back, before rising with a cheeky grin. As he stepped back, the rest of my men took their turns to kiss my hand before fully rising.
"And just so you know," Darkin told Flea firmly. "Airsha's our wife not our whore. We're her harem. And as an Air Mistress, one day you'll have a male harem too."
Flea stood up and pulled a disgusted face. "And have a whole lot of sweaty men I have to service? No. Thank. You. My mam was happiest when she only had one man sharing her bed."
I suddenly felt incredibly sorry for Flea. The grief at the loss of her father and then her mother was too much for a girl her age to have to bear. And to have witnessed sex the way a whore experienced it would have been enough to put her off men all together.