Paladins of the Pickle Goddess

I had never been the seafaring sort. There was a reason I had fled home by land, not by sea; I didn’t trust most ships not to sink, and the stink of the ocean got into the back of my throat and made it difficult to taste anything.

It was worse when we were plunged into darkness, forced to listen to nothing but rattling above us and the lapping of the waves against the hull. I stayed leaning against Apis for a while, just so that I wouldn’t lose my place in the room.

I didn’t realize that I fell asleep, leaning on his shoulder, but I startled awake all the same when the door slammed open. My mouth was sticky with drool- I was briefly embarrassed but quickly re-focused on the important things- and my head pounded. It had been too long since I’d had food, or water.

It was the same guard from before, yawning. He had a single plate of food, another lantern that I was embarrassingly envious of, and an empty chamber-pot tucked under one arm. He tossed the chamber-pot into one corner, slapped the tray of food onto the table, and turned to leave. He didn’t refresh the oil in the lantern.

I cleared my throat, feeling sticky and tired. “Please. The light-”

I’d only been in here half a day, and I was already saying please? Who had I become? I stood, knocking over the chair. “The light. You should add more oil.”

The boy looked at me. I could have been his mother, in another life. He shrugged, unbothered by my request. “Not supposed to,” he said. “Oh, but thank you for the reminder.” Then he leaned in, snatched the lantern away, and tucked it under his arm. Then, before I could say anything else, he walked out, slamming the door again and leaving us in darkness.

“That- that-”

“At least we have food,” said Apis. There was a crunching noise next to me, a crumbling. I sighed, then began feeling my way back over to the table. There was an unfortunate moment where I tripped over Apis, but after a moment we sorted ourselves back out and ended up sitting in the chairs again, both gnawing on what counted for food over here.

“No wonder they’re so desperate to make it onto land again,” I offered, “If this is what-”

“Wait,” said Apis.

I stopped talking. “I didn’t realize you were so-”

“I thought I heard something.”

He grabbed my arm, stopping me from chewing. Then I heard footsteps as he walked away from me, a thump- what was he doing?

“There’s someone underneath us!” He hissed.

Well, yes. That was how ships worked. Although he seemed rather excited about it, so I put my food in another pocket and tried to walk over near where I had heard his footsteps. There, kneeling on the wood, I put my ear against the planks.

There wasn’t much. Just muffled chatter, high-pitched voices. Children, then, teens at best.

“Hate this,” said one. “Want to go home.” Came another voice.

“My mum’s going to be so mad,” said another one.

Next to me, Apis made a strange shuffling movement. A second later, I heard his voice, muffled up against the floorboards, a yell. “Hello? Is anyone down there?”

I heard nothing from where my ear was pressed against the floorboards.

“Hello?”

The following silence almost echoed. We waited there for what felt like an eternity, ears pressed to the floorboards. “We come in peace!” I tried.

Still nothing. I sighed and rolled onto my back, sitting up and taking another bite. “Maybe it’s just the crew,” I said.

I didn’t believe it. Crew of a ship usually didn’t speak about their mums being mad.

I had other concerns, however. The savory biscuit they’d given us was so hard I had to gnaw at it with my back molars, and they hadn’t given us any water. “I might die just from this food,” I said. “Do you think that was Sylvia’s plan?”

“I have mead,” said Apis.

“Really,” I continued, not really listening. “I mean- it’s one thing to trap me, but to feed me-”

A flask pressed into my side. I paused. “Did you actually bring mead?”

“I usually have some on me.” Apis actually sounded embarrassed. “It’s not- I don’t typically drink it. I bring it to advertise to pubs, if there’s one around. But, well, we’ve been busy lately. So, ah…”

“Well, no time like the present to start trying your own product.” My night- or morning, whichever it was- had just improved infinitely. “You know, I begin to see the hope Andrena saw in you.”

“I’m fairly sure the priestesses just wanted someone to experiment on,” said Apis. I forgave him for that, because the flask was uncorking in my hand, and I could have some mead to wash down the horrifying concoction we’d been served. I pressed it into his hand, wherever it was in the darkness, and lay back. I could still hear nothing below us.

“Think we scared them off?”

“Next time maybe I shouldn’t shout,” said Apis.

“Of course,” I said, rolling my eyes. Then I remembered that we were in the darkness, and I had been betrayed, and it was a waste to roll my eyes in the first place. “You’re so terrifying, you scared them off.”

I swallowed another draw of mead, then handed it back. It was very good, was the problem. What was the city thinking, not giving him a license?

“I’ve been called intimidating!”

“How many times.”

“Well, once.”

“I’ll bet you all the money I have it was about the bees.”

“Andrena doesn’t smile upon betting,” said Apis. He flicked my knee. “I’ll take the flask, if you’re done.”

We probably should have saved some of the mead, given that I didn’t think we were getting out of here anytime soon; but Apis made an extremely strong brew, and before I knew it, he was telling me old stories about the priestesses as we waited for the guard to show back up. I found myself staring towards the door, trying to think over what weapons they had. If only I’d had the staff.

“I really think I could take him,” I said. “As long as he shows up alone.”

“Please do not fight anyone,” said Apis. “We do not have the political strength to bail you out.”

“It’s we, now? Who are you recruiting to save me? Last I checked, we’re alone in here.”

“Well, alone, I certainly couldn’t.”

I snorted, leaning into his shoulder. “I still think being imprisoned in a cell on land beats being imprisoned here. On land you’re not likely to sink.”

“Just what I needed, more to worry about.”

I had planned on staying up, keeping a vigil until the door opened again. Instead, I woke up sprawled out on the floor- at least my clothes were still on, I was fairly sure- and with an aching head. I groaned, sitting up.

“Did they come to visit again?”

“I’m speaking to them.” His voice was low, somewhere next to me. I scratched at my head. “What?”

Apis didn’t respond. I put my ear to the floor again.

“We’re letterboys, old man!” Called up a voice. “Who’re you!”

“I brew mead,” said Apis, which was deeply misleading. “I’m with a representative of Andrena, here to pursue justice for Voice Marcia.”

There was a silence, after that. Then a muttering through the wood. Finally, another voice shouted out, “We didn’t do it!”

“I thought not,” said Apis. His voice echoed strangely. I thought he might be speaking directly into the wood, as much as he could. “Are you trapped here too? How long have you been here?”

“Dunno! Got put in after they broke us out. The priests said they were with the Voice!”

I wanted to sit up, to punch the air. I had known it would be better for them to tell the truth! To stay! But no- they had thought it was better to go in that stupid boat, to throw their shoes at me. I cupped my hands around my lips, spoke towards the wood, too. “You’re the ones that threw shoes at me?”

There was another silence. Then, “Did you keep those?”

“No!”

There was a momentary burst of cursing that they should not have known.

I paused, then said, “Do you know who put you in here?”

“Dunno,” said the boy. I wanted to hit my head on something.

“Is the Voice of Celeres in there?” Said Apis. “Has she been hurt?”

“No. Dunno where she is,” said the boy. “We haven’t seen her since the fire.”

I leaned forward. There was one more question I’d wanted to ask the letterboys, and I’d never had the opportunity to - I’d even gone to the Laundresses guildhall to try and find answers. I might as well try now, even if I couldn’t do anything about it. “Do you know anyone with the initials L.L.?”

This was met with a long silence before someone finally shouted up, “Only Laelius!”

“Is he… rather tall, a bit slender?”

“I didn’t do anything! I already told the guards!” Came the shout, so loud I had to actually push myself back from the floor. “I was sick all last month.”

“Are you well?” Apis sounded genuinely distressed.

“With what?”

“The pox,” said Laelius, presumably. “My mum sent away my stuff to get cleaned. Now everyone thinks I’m a murderer. I didn’t do anything! I didn’t even make any money!”

“But you’re well now, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine. Just fine! I can deliver anything, so long as they let me out!”

I sat back at that. So; we had confirmed someone else had taken Laelius’s clothes. But there was only one person with those initials, only one set of clothing that had been burned.

Why had Candida seen two people? She had seemed so sharp. How had she missed something like that?

I stared into the darkness, listening to the letterboys shout about missed income, and couldn’t find the connection.