Free Tomorrow's Kingdom by Maureen Fergus Page A

it.
    Without thinking, Persephone straightened her back and lifted her chin. As she opened her eyes, she reminded herself that a warm bath and a glass of strong wine beat dangling by her wrists from a pair of rusted manacles any day. And though it would seem that Mordecai intended to ravish her, he wasn’t ravishing her now— and many things could happen between now and that future moment when he sought to place his hands upon her.
    Turning to the old man, Persephone said, “I know you are Mordecai’s servant, but I am your queen and I need your help.”
    When the old man said nothing, only gaped at her, Persephone rolled her eyes before striding across the chamber to where the three women stood. Recalling the kindness and great bravery that had been shown by Martha, Meeka, Meena and Meeta—the servants who’d tended her when she’d played at being Lady Bothwell— Persephone smiled encouragingly at the women who stood ready to tend to her now.
    Then she glanced down and her smile froze on her lips when she noticed that, just like the old man, each one of the women was missing most of one foot.
    â€œWhat happened to your feet ?” cried Persephone.
    Two of the women just looked at her. The third opened her mouth to reveal a gruesomely amputated tongue before pantomiming having her foot chopped off and her tongue snipped out.
    So that no matter what Mordecai does to them, they cannot run and they cannot cry out , thought Persephone with a shudder.
    Thinking that she couldn’t imagine anything worse, Persephone looked away only to see that half-hidden behind the privacy screen, on the floor beside a chair heaped with women’s undergarments, were a pair of impossibly high-heeled purple slippers, a pile of cut rope and a riding crop.
    Refusing to dwell on the possibility that whatever Mordecai had planned for her might actually be worse than having her tongue snipped out, Persephone considered using the riding crop to try to fight her way past the guard at the bottom of the spiral staircase. Deciding that she’d never get past him without a blade, she turned to the old man and said, “Can you fetch me something to eat? I’m partial to large hunks of meat carved thin before my eyes.”
    Blinking at the oddness of her request, the old man pointed first to the tub, then to the dress, then to the closed door. Then he pantomimed shoving food into his mouth.
    â€œYou’ll bring me food once I’m bathed and dressed?” asked Persephone.
    The old man shook his head and jabbed his finger more insistently at the door.
    â€œI’m to dine elsewhere once I’m bathed and dressed?” said Persephone.
    The old man nodded enthusiastically.
    â€œWith Mordecai,” she guessed.
    The old man nodded again—though less enthusiastically this time, as though he wasn’t entirely sure he was supposed to be telling her all this.
    Persephone folded her arms across her chest. “And what happens if I refuse to bathe and dress?” she said. “What happens if I refuse to dine with him?”
    The old man pointed first to himself, then to the three trembling women. Then he drew his finger across his throat.
    â€œYou’ll be killed ?” exclaimed Persephone, letting her arms fall to her sides.
    The old man nodded and then pantomimed ripping off his own head and jamming it down onto a spike.
    Persephone hesitated—but only briefly. A show of defiance was not worth four lives and besides, if she refused to cooperate, Mordecai was unlikely to respond by sending up a juicy haunch of beef and a nice sharp carving knife. More likely, he’d send up Hairy to strip her, bathe her, dress her and drag her down to dinner.
    Or else he’d leave her to starve.
    And so Persephone dismissed the old man, called for wine and set to work preparing for an evening with her enemy.

THIRTEEN

    E LSEWHERE IN THE black stone castle, Mordecai sat in one of two