“I see he’s prepared a speech,” Bluebeard said confidentially to me. “Your next pet should be voiceless, wife of mine.”
“I’m certain you’ll make it so,” I murmured and he seemed to like that. His eyes lingered on me before he stole another glass from a passing tray and sipped it as Grosbeak carried on.
“We stand here together to determine a contest of wives — or Queens, as one of the competitors has suggested.”
There was a general cheer at that.
“We all know the legend about the one who draws out the Wittenbrand arrow from the stone,” here he gestured at Coppertomb. “He will bring milk and honey with him and we will all dance for ten years. He will shepherd in an age of glory. He will marry the finest woman who has been revealed through her actions to be pure in spirit, and all the land will see peace.”
There was a silence after that. Perhaps his Wittenbrand kin were not so certain that they wanted peace.
“Who better to help find this worthy partner than I? I have plumbed the great depths where Death keeps his horde. I have been carried down the Path of Princes — for I am not one to walk, and my feet grow sore with any effort.”
That garnered him a hearty laugh from the crowd. I noticed that drinks were flowing again and the people were merry as if this was going according to some internal script I did not know. The only individuals who did not look well pleased were Ki'e'iren, me, and Coppertomb.
“It was my pleasure to betray the Arrow to the Sword and make an attempt on his wife’s life. And why should I not have? It was spoiling the game to see him take a new bride every time and drain her days, only to take another. The vampirian have always been a legend we despise in the Wittenhame.”
“Hear, hear!” the crowd called back.
“But, I was caught in the act, my head taken, my will snatched. And I was bounced from place to place, passed from hand to hand — even dragged once by magic from Bluebeard’s vaults to watch him as the Sword pried that very rib from his chest while he stood naked and bleeding. That was a grisly sight. And I don’t mean the theft of a bone.”
More laughter. He was nearly as good at this as my husband was.
“I won’t explain or justify myself. I was a true son of the Wittenhame. I did exactly what suited me and bettered me at each juncture. And now here I am, gifted with twice the number of my original legs and with the great honor of declaring to you what challenge my former mistress will face … oh and also Ki'e'iren who once I kissed while she was living and her husband was not looking.”
Here he winked at Ki'e'iren and to my surprise her face colored and her eyes grew even harder. My gaze shot to Bluebeard, but he was drinking from his goblet, unconcerned at this revelation. I knew he cared not at all for his wives, but I did think he would care that Grosbeak close to cuckolded him. I was wrong.
“And with that revelation, and my assurance that I have thought long and hard on this matter and considered every possible battle a hopeful Queen of the Wittenhame might have need to endure, let me reveal the one I have settled on.”
“This century, if you don’t mind,” Coppertomb said, drinking from his own goblet. His neck was almost puce, but he was still rigidly straight.
Grosbeak chuckled one of his evil chuckles. “Do not think I did not have you in mind, my darling audience, when I made my choice. For I know you. You are me. You have seen every possible physical and mental feat in your time. Arrows shot from horseback do not impress you. Nor does swordplay, nor do drinking games. Nor do knife fights, nor do bids of endurance where each member of the challenge slowly slices their own body parts off one by one.”
Had that been an option? I was suddenly more worried than I had been. I glanced at Bluebeard and saw he was watching me with a hard, considering face. This was just like the hand. He needed me to go through with it, just as he did. And he would respect me if I tried, and suffer the consequences of my cowardice if I did not. Well. I was not giving up my place by his side. I was not backing down. No matter what challenge Grosbeak had settled upon.
“What we want, brothers, sisters, flesh of my own flesh,” Grosbeak said, his voice rising in a crescendo. “We want novelty. We want drama.”
I swallowed down a lump in my dry throat and shot my beloved a last look. There would be no help from him. I had made the challenge. He would watch me see it through.
“We want our competitors equally matched, equally likely to fall into the pit and never return. Equally likely to be humiliated and ruined. And we want them to do it to themselves!”
The crowd roared and my belly lurched. What would Grosbeak force me to inflict upon myself? What revenge would he take now for all the wrongs done to him while in my care?
“Ki'e'iren!” he called, “take your place here as the former of Riverbarrow’s wives.”
“You can’t call me that,” Bluebeard said calmly. “It is not my name.”
“Fine,” Grosbeak said, grinning hugely so that his terrible, leering mouth looked like a gash in dead flesh. “We shall call you by Izolda’s name for you.Bluebeard’swives will join me here in the gracious hands of the Bramble King.”
I felt my cheeks grow hot as Bluebeard laughed at the name I gave him but it was not a happy laugh, it was a sardonic one and he watched me as I ascended behind my rival. Would that my husband’s moods were easier to read. Would that he were like mortal men in that, at least. But as ever, he was as mysterious to me as a fish of the sea is to a bird of the air.
I mounted the steps and I could see now why Grosbeak was grandstanding. From here, you could see all the land around. Fathoms and fathoms of moonlit islands, laced with the silver river and set off with blossoming trees. Between them, the Wittenbrand were gathered by the thousand, and all were watching me.
My palms grew sweaty and my breath hitched as I looked out over them. But why should I fear? Had they seen Death’s lands and returned? Had they been made to watch everyone they love pass and their most beloved die before them? Had they survived all that and more? I did not think so. I would rip Ki'e'iren apart limb by limb with my own hands if I must. I would spread every drop of her blood over them like christening water. I would rend every one of them apart. I would do anything I must to stay by the side of my husband and confirm his choice in me. And I would not be afraid.
When I met my old friend’s eye, here on the platform, it was with steel and determination and when he saw that look in my eye his own expression shifted to delighted excitement.
“We are ready,” he said a little breathlessly. “Let the Game Commence. I name it for you now. The lives of these women and the fates of those they represent shall be determined by … the Blind Man’s Jape!”
