Daughter of the Night

Aaron’s P.O.V. (Continued)

While at first glance the revoke of and then my nomination for the title of Summer Knight may seem redundant and useless, I must explain the politics behind it. The Queen’s motives ensured that I was appropriately punished for my actions. The Summer Knight represents the ultimate battle prowess and embodies the ideal mentality and tradition of the Fae people. It is a hefty title to properly uphold. That I did not uphold it by refraining from aiding my comrades in battle, which is akin to abandoning them, was punishable by death. However, that I had done so to uphold the Fae code of honor was really what saved my ass with the Queen. On top of that, the guards had been in no lethal situation, so it wasn’t like my abstention had jeopardized their lives. And Cross was not strictly speaking an enemy to the Fae. So, in the Queen’s eyes, I had picked what I had thought the lesser of two evils. Still evil, unfortunately, but the lesser evil.

Of course, those excuses only prevented my execution. I still had to be punished for not enforcing the entirety of the code of the Fae, which was to never abandon one’s comrades.

Hence the revocation of Wildfire. Although idealistically my position as not-Summer Knight was temporary, this was going to give all the people who hated me an opportunity to make my life miserable. More importantly, my expulsion from the post made it clear that such actions as mine were not to be tolerated under any conditions. The Queen’s actions were, above all, to maintain order.

And, of course, I had been nominated for the position of Summer Knight. I still had to complete several requirements and prove myself worthy, the same as when I was originally nominated some decades ago. There was still a chance that someone else could take the post.

Apologizing to the guards was awkward, especially since when I first tracked them down the green-haired man landed a spectacular punch to my face. But then I told them everything. How Cross had saved me and then gave her freedom for mine, weakened as I was in human form. I explained what they had interrupted, what that argument had been about, and why she had been so mad. Then I explained how she had given me lenience when I was at a disadvantage, and how I was repaying her. While originally angry and betrayed, the Fae warriors felt my earnestness and my guilt.

I must say, I think they took it rather well. The green-haired faerie even apologized for my black eye, which was darkening to a brilliant purple already. When they asked about the reciprocations, I told them that I had been renounced as the Summer Knight. I was surprised at the vehemence they displayed at the Queen’s decision, but I told them that the Court would feel differently. Very differently. They agreed with me.

When I left, my comrades were debating the extent of Cross’s powers, which I had to admit even I wasn’t aware of. The last thing I heard before I got out of hearing range was that she could see into the future at least ten seconds ahead, which was how she must have avoided their knives with such ease. I had to struggle not to snort derisively.

It took very little time for word of my actions to spread throughout the palace, and without my firsthand account to persuade them otherwise, most of the Fae detested my presence. Especially since I was no longer the Summer Knight, there was no need for them to treat me with the utmost respect, and they took liberties.

For instance, when I went to the training arena to spar for a bit, I was given a dull, shattered-looking steel practice weapon with a splintered wooden hilt. Several long needles lodged painfully into my palms before I could find leather to wrap around the hilt. And then, of course, the sword itself snapped on the first exchange of blows I had with a woman maybe seventy years my junior and her sword caught me in the solar plexus. Good times.

When I asked to select my own weapon, I was politely refused under the claim that I was not of the Guard and could not handle Guard property without permission from the higher-ups. When a sympathetic soldier finally handed over his practice weapon, my first opponent was, lo and behold, Siamarkachek.

He was, as usual, unforgiving in the practice ring, not that that was a problem. He had a dual-sword style that was usually not difficult for me to counter with Wildfire’s longer reach, but the practice sword I had was the same length as one of his dual weapons, and the hilt was too short for me to fit both of my hands on.

Excuses aside, he came out of the arena with far more bruises than I, although he was delighted when a soldier automatically assumed that my black eye was from him.

I wasn’t sure how long it would be before the hostility would die down. The Fae were notorious for holding grudges. Cross had better appreciate this, I thought grimly. If she still wanted to kill me after all this, I'd do my Queen a favor and exile myself before Morhiannara had to do it for me.

Once I left the practice ring, I headed over to Lemariastra’s infirmary. When I got there, everything was in the exact same place as it had been the day before, including Lem, who was in her office.

“What are you doing back so soon?” she chided me, scanning me for wounds.

“I’m scheduling an appointment,” I said wryly.

“Aah, yes,” she sighed. “I heard about your punishment. I am sorry that you lost your title.”

I looked around for prying ears, and finding none, gave Lem a cocky smirk that I didn’t really feel. “Between you and me, I was nominated for the position four seconds after being renounced.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Wily,” she muttered to herself. “It satisfies the Court that you lost the title, but they cannot protest against a nominee promoted by the Queen herself… And if you can prove your prowess again, you have enough of a good reputation to secure the position once more…”

“Eh,” I said. “The good reputation thing is debatable at this point.”

“Well of course it is right now,” she waved me off. “Your side of the story hasn’t leaked out yet, it’s the Court’s word against nothing. But you’ll have more supporters than you’d think, given a few days.”

“You’re quite an optimist,” I told her. “The last person who was so sure of me tried to rip out my heart just yesterday.”

“Oh yes,” Lemariastra purred, a crafty smile playing around her lips. I felt a seed of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. That smile was never a good thing. “How is your vampire friend doing?”

I shrugged. “No idea. She’s had time to feed, so for all I know she’s partying it up in some night club in Vegas.”

Lem smirked. “Unlikely. Do you think she’ll return to the palace?’

“I believe she will. She clearly still has an interest in an alliance with the Fae. She’s just furious at me, specifically. It might take her a while to override it enough to return to the Court of the Fae, however.”

“And the Queen is making no action to bring her back?”

I sighed and reached up to grab Wildfire’s hilt for comfort, but dropped my hand when I remembered Wildfire wasn’t on my back any longer. I had had it for a matter of hours before losing it again. This was not a good day.

“Morhiannara,” I said, “is going to wait and see what happens. She has to be careful now that Cross knows the location of the Summer Palace, and any more deceitful moves could turn Cross against us.”

“But you don’t think that will happen,” Lem finished, her eyes thoughtful. “An interesting person, this Cross… Tell me, what is she to you?”

Ah-ha. This was the blow I had been waiting for. “She’s my friend,” I replied. “At least, that’s what I see her as, even if the feeling isn’t mutual. She saved my life. Twice. And I saved hers, although that was a byproduct of her saving mine, so I guess they neutralize each other…”

“Uh-huh,” Lem said. I got the impression she wasn’t satisfied with my answer. “So, on an entirely different note, when was the last time you dated somebody?”

I blinked, opened my mouth, shut it, and blinked again. Finally I managed a “What?”

“You know,” she said casually. “Dating. Like establishing a reciprocated romantic interest in someone, typically of the opposite sex.”

Usually I was good with witty comebacks, but Lem was the last person I would have ever seen this coming from, which subdued my astounding natural wit.

“Six years ago,” I finally grated out, “with Sheleandera. It ended when I gave her a bouquet of flowers that I didn’t realize she was allergic to for her birthday and her face bloated up to the size of a beach ball. On the night of her own party, no less.”

“You weren’t to blame for that one,” Lem said comfortingly. “Who would have thought that any among the Fae would have allergies?”

“Thank you,” I said, pleased that someone had finally seen my point of view. “Now, can we please move away from my personal life?”

Lemariastra’s eyes narrowed slightly, reminding me of a cat who’s seen a mouse. “You need to put aside more time for your personal life, Aerrin. I don’t know all the details, but it sounds like you went through hell just to hunt down this vampire and now you’re going through hell again just for her sake. Clearly, she’s more to you than just a mission.”

“She’s. A. Friend. Dear God, I’m getting whipped tomorrow and you have to be the Spanish Inquisition today? What are you getting at, anyway?” I demanded.

Lemariastra rolled her eyes. “If that had been any other person attacking the Queen’s guards, you would have interceded in a heartbeat. I don’t care what excuses you give about honor, that’s obviously not why you did it, or at least it’s not the biggest reason why.”

I took a step backwards, and then another, my hands held up in a defensive posture. “I’ll be honest, this conversation is weird and far too personal for my tastes. I’ll see you tomorrow when I’m bleeding all over your floor.”

“Do what you will,” Lem’s voice followed me out of the infirmary. I could hear a smile, and wondered what was so amusing. “I’ll be ready for you.”

The next day came with unfortunate speed. Still, my only desire was to get the damn thing over with so that I could collect Wildfire and be on my way to Ohio. Why was the vampire in Ohio, anyway? According to my not-infallible memory, Ohio was a relatively uninteresting state with few big cities. I supposed that the inactivity of the Supernatural was why the vampire was there.

I exited my chambers around nine. I was still trying to catch up on sleep, because my nocturnal hours with Cross as well as my daytime duties had eaten away at my designated sleeping time. In my mind, the nighttime excursions had been worth it. And, on an intellectual note, I had discovered what wolfbane tasted like.

I wore a pair of worn jeans and a black “A7X” band tee under my usual leather jacket (my Court attire was still lying unused in my closet from where I had deposited it over two years ago, when I gained the seal and went after Cross as a human).

Before leaving, I looked in the mirror at myself. I normally didn’t care what I looked like, but it was such a relief to see my normal face after more than two years of seeing an unfamiliar human with a dull complexion, dull green eyes, dull rounded ears, dull reflexes… You get the idea. I will admit I heaved a sigh of relief when I saw my cat-pupil eyes and angled ears, though. I towel-dried my still-wet hair and left my chambers.

I wandered to the kitchens, hoping for a few scraps from the previous night. I went out of my way to take less inhabited corridors and halls to get there, though, because I really wasn’t up for facing more ridicule and/or pity. When I finally did get to the kitchens, I flagged down one of the cooks and gave her my best puppy-dog-is-hungry-please-feed-me face, which I will admit may not have held nearly as much appeal as usual due to what was left of my black eye.

The cook, a plump girl with strawberry-colored hair and a charming smile that she flashed at me, disappeared. Within half a minute she was back with a plate laden with fruits, cheeses, and bread. I thanked her, took the plate gleefully, and left to find somewhere to eat my meal in peace.

The Fae are what one would consider being ‘vegetarian’, but it’s not that we don’t partake of meat because killing animals is deplorable (which we believe it is, nevertheless). Rather, we simply can’t. Our digestive systems can’t handle it.

I located a spot a ways away from the hustle and bustle of the kitchens, where there was a nice oak bench lodged between a fountain and an apple tree, lodged in a small courtyard carved out of the hall.

I enjoyed the meal tremendously, because there was no comparison between grocery-store steroid-induced fruits and fruit grown by the Fae. My only hope was that I didn’t have to puke it up later.

When I was done I returned the plate to the kitchen staff and took a long and indirect route towards the general area of the guardhouse, which was where my punishment would be carried out.

“Aerrin?” a disbelieving voice called out from behind me. I grinned, recognizing it, and turned.

“Hail, Tristanarium,” I called.

My old friend ran up to me, a smile on his face. “I had heard you were back, and I heard about your actions, but if they’re letting you just walk around it definitely isn’t as bad as it sounds. What’s it been, three years?”

He stood maybe two inches taller than me, with cobalt-blue hair and deep brown eyes. A scar crossed from the corner of his right eye to the edge of his mouth, giving him an intimidating appearance. He was dressed in bracers, greaves, and a chest plate over a white long-sleeve shirt and black jeans. An inscribed, beautiful yew longbow was strung and crossed over his shoulder and chest, a quiver of oil-dipped arrows slung over the other shoulder.

“About that,” I said, “since you were out subduing werewolves when I had to leave for New York. I’ve missed you, man!”

We proceeded to complete our very long and convoluted secret handshake. I was delighted that I had remembered it, seeing as there were like four hundred steps.

“So how was it? What was this vampire’s deal?” he asked, curiosity rolling off him in waves.

“She’s awesome,” I said. “Saved my ass like five times. Being human sucked because I couldn’t save my own ass, had to have her to do it for me.”

“I heard you got taken captive by some werewolves! That can’t possibly be true, right? I mean, you?”

I pulled a face. “They fed me wolfbane in the guise of a coffee from Grand Central Station. I thought I would be able to detect shit like that, but I didn’t realize the seal subdued even those abilities. It tasted awful. Oh, and I almost choked to death.”

“Because of the taste?” Tristan asked, eyes twinkling.

I snorted. “That would be why. Most definitely. Anyway, Cross got me the antidote in exchange for her freedom, but then they took me captive anyway-”

“Bastards,” Tristan spat. “I hate werewolves.”

“-and then Cross broke out, they threatened to kill me if she didn’t cooperate, and then they released me and left her out in the sun.”

“Ouch,” Tristan winced. “I’m no expert, but that’s no picnic, right?”

“That’s an understatement. I broke in and saved her, and then we got the hell outta New York. I influenced her enough to make her want to go to D.C., because if I hadn’t she definitely would have gone back to the werewolf hideout and ripped off all their heads, which would have been problematic.”

“Sounds like my kind of vampire,” Tristan smirked. “So what’d you do to make her attack you? It sounds like you guys were pretty tight.”

“She discovered that I had been using my persuasion to manipulate her once we finally got to Court. Apparently she’s not so into the whole manipulation thing. I told her that I had only kept her from being suspicious of me and that I had given her the idea to go to D.C., which is the truth. She didn’t believe me, though.”

“Ah,” Tristan said. “I get it now. You didn’t help the guard because she had saved your life, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I couldn’t force myself to draw Wildfire against her again, because when she attacked I reciprocated without thinking, even though she was my ally. On top of that, I owed her for not killing me when she had the chance.”

Tristan looked surprised. “You gave her a chance?”

“She buried Wildfire in the floor. It was a marble floor. I couldn’t get Wildfire out in time to defend myself if she came at me again, but she backed off. So she had already lost the will to kill me at that point.”

“But the Queen still had to hammer you for failing to defend your comrades, huh?” Tristan muttered. “So she revoked your title. But I’ll bet you good money you’re getting it back, right?”

I smirked. Tristanarium had a better head for politics than most would believe, because as Captain of the Guard he’d seen his fair share.

“Yeah,” I said, “although I have to suffer through a public lashing among other things to reclaim it.”

“Oh yeah,” he frowned. “That’s not today, is it?”

“It’s where I’m going right now,” I sighed.

Tristan clapped me on the shoulder. “I feel for you. Still, I see the necessity. The Summer Knight is a soldier of the Fae, and must be punished like one if the crime requires it.”

“Thank you for the political enlightenment,” I grumbled. “Now I’m completely lost, so could you point me in the right direction?”

“Better yet, I can take you there,” Tristan said. “I have the afternoon off today, and you’ll need a friendly face. Also, my presence will keep the public from doing anything… uncalled for.”

I saw the logic in his words and was grateful. I could think of better things to do than watching someone I liked get whipped.

I followed him through a maze of convoluted hallways until I recognized the main hall where the guards’ quarters were located. A small group of people had already gathered around the clearing, which was hard-packed dirt with a wooden frame in the center. Two ropes hung from the frame, to secure my wrists and arms, I knew.

“Do they seriously have nothing better to do?” I wondered. “Is this really that interesting?” I was, of course, just being bitter. I had already known that there would be people watching.

“Best of luck,” Tristan said, grimacing. “I’d offer you some alcohol, but I have none on me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “The last thing I need is to show up to this thing drunk.”

Tristan chortled. “True, true.”

I wandered up to the guard at the entrance of the clearing, which was surrounded by a wooden fence.

“So you did come, Aerrinaekaiyan,” the guard at the entrance said while eyeing me distastefully. “I thought maybe you’d run away from this too.”

“Oh?” I said, lifting my eyebrows. “That sounds like a challenge. If you seek an honor duel, my friend, I would be more than happy to oblige.”

The guard blinked, paled a bit, and then gestured angrily for me to go inside. I grinned patronizingly and stepped through into the clearing. An official from Court saw me arrive and nodded before turning to the gathering crowd. She opened a scroll she had stored in the messenger bag at her waist and began reading.

“The warrior Aerrinaekaiyan son of Zabraenae is to be subjected to fifteen lashes at noon for the crime of staying his blade whilst his comrades were under attack. While it is known that punishment for this crime is death, this is an exception due to the circumstances of the situation. Henceforth, this punishment shall be carried out instead.”

She turned to me, her pale blue eyes flashing. “Are you prepared, Aerrinaekaiyan? Know that the punishment for fleeing or fighting is an increase of your sentence.”

“I am,” I replied, shielding all my thoughts and feelings behind a mask of apathy.

“Then remove your shirt and step up to the platform.”

A faerie stepped out of the crowd with a long, mean-looking leather whip in his hand. I groaned inwardly. Although his face was hidden behind a dark cowl and robes, I could distinguish Siamarkechek’s cocky gait anywhere. What idiot had decided to let him carry out the sentence? Someone who hates me, I thought grimly. Joy.

I did as required and stepped underneath the frame. Two faeries came out to secure my arms in the loops, which I allowed while grating my teeth. I felt extremely vulnerable, immobilized as I was with all eyes on me and unable to protect myself. With a flash of guilt, I realized that this was what Cross must have felt like when she realized that the Fae could read and control emotions.

I really did deserve this, I realized, for being such a douche to her. No wonder she tried to kill me.

I heard the crack of the whip through air milliseconds before it hit me squarely across my right shoulder blade, parting flesh with ease. Pain like fire flashed through my back and my muscles contracted involuntarily, causing my back to arch. I exhaled sharply as the pain burned through my senses. Gritting my teeth in concentration, I forced it back, controlled it. Breath, I told myself. I’d been through worse, and this wasn’t even my first whipping.

The next several lashes came in rapid succession so that I no longer knew if there was any unscathed part of my upper back left. Not that it mattered; my entire back was still on fire. I was managing the pain well, though, and to distract myself was thinking of the time I had first been given a sword by my mother.

Then came lash number eleven, which was directly across my other open wounds with what felt like more force. I bit back a grunt as a new flash of pain swept through my body. That bastard, I thought. He was probably angry that he wasn’t getting any noise from me. As lash number twelve fell high on my shoulders, the tongue of the whip dangerously close to my neck, I snarled silently. He wasn’t going to get anything from me.

I felt blood trickle down my back, and it occurred to me that my jeans were probably ruined. The next two lashes did nothing but fall on already devastated flesh, officially making my back a field of agony. I tightened my grip even more on the ropes holding my hands in place and braced myself for the last one.

It fell with a vengeance, and it took a lot of concentration to remain on my feet. As it was, the ropes were holding up more of my weight than I would have liked. Still, although it felt like I was on fire, it was over.

The faeries stepped up to me and asked if I would need support getting to the infirmary. I shook my head no, and steadied my weight as they slowly unbound my hands from the frame. As I let my hands fall slowly to my sides, I rolled my shoulders. It hurt like hell but it loosened my arms and eased the sensation that they had been pulled from their sockets.

I walked smoothly past Siamarkachek, who was coiling the whip around his arm.

“That wasn't all you've got, was it?” I breathed into his ear without looking at him. I had the satisfaction of watching him stiffen angrily from the corner of my eye. I picked up my shirt and jacket off the ground, trying to keep my movements from appearing stiff and slow. I gestured to Tristan to follow me, and as I stepped out of the clearing with my head held high and my eyes narrowed haughtily, the people parted for me with ease. My performance had just reminded them why exactly I had been the Summer Knight, I supposed.

I took long strides to the infirmary, partly because my back was absolutely killing me and partly because I hated the sensation of my blood flowing down my back and through the waistband of my jeans, although thanks to my regenerative powers the flow was already slowing down.

Tristan kept pace with me easily, though. “Good job,” he told me. “That was impressive.”

I grimaced. “If that’s what you want to call it… What I’d like to know, though, is why the hell they let Siamarkachek do it.”

Tristan inhaled sharply. “Seriously? I thought he looked familiar. Probably volunteered for the job.”

“Not that it matters,” I said. “I’d be in pain either way. Although if you had done it instead, that whip would have been as light as a feather.”

Tristan snorted. “That’s why I never got asked. If I wanted to hit you, I’d do it with a right hook to your face.”

I snorted in turn. “Good to know.”

We finally arrived at the infirmary, which was good, because I had lost enough blood that I was getting dizzy.

Sure enough, Lem was ready for me. I tried to make a joke about bleeding on her floor just like I’d promised, but she was in doctor mode and glared at me until I shut up and laid stomach-down on an infirmary bed.

She wiped the blood off my back first, before pouring on the antiseptic. Needless to say, that hurt a ton. Then she pulled out her needle and began stitching me back together, without anesthetic, as that was part of my punishment. That wasn’t fun either, and I had to remind myself exactly why I was in this position. Tristan occasionally offered words of encouragement, but for the most part he was engrossed in a magazine article from the city.

“Damn,” he said at one point. “The double Taylors broke up.”

“Shouldn’t you be reading something more masculine?” I asked before getting speared with Lem’s needle again.

After eighty-four stitches, a lot of gauze, and thick white bandages encircling my back and chest, I was finally released from Lem’s clutches. By this time the pain had faded to a dull roar, and I had no idea how I was going to fall asleep tonight. I got off the bed stiffly, measuring my mobility with slow, careful movements. I could move, but only slowly, and every movement I made at all managed to pull on something in my back. Needless to say, I was in a rather sour mood.

I pulled on my shirt slowly, wincing at the excessive movement. I could barely force myself to lift my arms above shoulder height. The jacket came next, but that was easier.

“Now I’m up for some alcohol,” I told Tristan. He grinned. We invited Lem along, but she declined, saying that the last thing she wanted to see was the two of us wasted at a bar. I had to agree that it would not be a pretty sight.

We could have gone to the palace’s tavern, I supposed, but I detested going anywhere local because I would attract attention, good or bad. So Tristan and I decided on heading into D.C. for an adequate place. Of course, we didn’t look human, but we could blend easily enough with the aid of sunglasses and hats.

It was only five or so in the evening when we got out of the palace, but my mood was lifting. With every minute that went by, I was a minute closer to getting back Wildfire. My bloodlust was up for this mission; it had been so long since I had done any real fighting.

The city had never looked so beautiful.