Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
That’s a problem for tomorrow, though.
For today, I have a human clinging to me that I don’t quite know what to do with. I make it to Akara’s side and send her comforting thoughts, even as I all but heave the human onto the edge of her shell.
What exactly am I supposed to do with a human bride?
Chapter
Four
VALESSA
Crawling onto the back of a sea turtle feels strange, yet it’s not the strangest thing so far this day. I should think nothing of it after all that this day has brought. And yet…it’s not like being on land. It bobs like a ship, though with a different sort of motion, and one that makes me instantly queasy. I shiver, my slave-shift soaked and clinging to my skin. Every bit of my body is outlined under the thin fabric, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I tug it off of my skin as best I can, cross my arms over my breasts, and study my new environment.
It’s very…flat. Empty. Underneath my bare feet, the turtle shell is warm and rough, a bit like a cow’s hoof, and the most surprising thing of all is the thick clumps of moss that grow in cracks on the shell. They hang from the back like tufts of pale green fur, dry from the sun’s rays and crusted with salt from the water.
The turtle is also even bigger now that I’m upon it. When I was a young girl back in Parness, we once walked half a day to see a traveling menagerie at an amphitheater. The amphitheater had been huge, like a giant bowl set down by the gods in the midst of the city. I remember the base of the bowl being sandy and large enough that you could fit several buildings inside. That’s how big the turtle’s back is.
As I get closer to the center, I see that the tree on its back is not actually a tree at all. It’s a bony protuberance—a spike—in the dead center of the shell, and more of the strange moss hangs from it. A wooden cage of some kind has been attached at the top, and it looks like more moss and seaweed hang on it to dry. I turn to look at the sea-ogre’s tent. It’s made of the same strange glossy leather that he wears, and I don’t dare go inside if I’m not invited.
I might be brave, but I’m not that brave.
I rub my arms, continuing to shiver as I look around. There’s no spot for a fire to warm the camp. Of course there’s not. This is the back of a turtle, I remind myself. Why would anyone build a fire? And yet it’s disappointing to realize because I’m freezing with cold and there’s no relief to be had. I glance over at the sea-ogre but he’s ignoring me, and I suspect it’s not the time to demand dry clothing.
The turtle moves into the sunshine and it feels good. Maybe if it stays here, I’ll warm up. I sit near the tent and hug my knees close, watching my new “husband.” He moves around the turtle’s back, looking busy. I watch as he checks the strands of moss and seaweed hanging on the cage and then ducks into his tent. He emerges a moment later with a nasty-looking trident and gazes out at the waters as the ship slowly moves past the turtle.
It’s a warning. It’s him telling them that he’s letting them pass, but if they try anything, he’ll attack. You wouldn’t think that a single man could intimidate an entire ship full of soldiers, but they watch him warily. He might not win if they all attacked at once, but he knows these waters. I have no doubt he could tip over the entire ship with a few movements and I doubt many of them could swim. If it fell to hand-to-hand combat, he’s nearly twice as big as the men and could take down a great many of them without breathing hard.
No one wants to risk their lives over a single slave—me—and I don’t blame them.
I continue to shiver, watching as the ship drifts past, the oars digging into the waters. Just when they’re about to pass, Lady Dywan struggles to her feet, the chains dragging on her arms. “We won’t forget you!” she cries. “When I’m free, I’ll find a way to save you from this monstrous fate!”
I’m touched. Perhaps I’ve misjudged Lady Dywan. I doubt she’ll be able to do anything, seeing as how she’s heading for a Sunswallow brothel and likely to a fate worse than mine. I’m actually not feeling too bad at the moment.
When my father was killed and I was sold into slavery, I cried bitter tears. When my first master died, I cried again, knowing that my fate was uncertain. I’m far more used to the cruelties of the Lords of Fate. There are no tears this time, only planning. I need to please this sea-ogre. I need to be a charming companion, one that makes his life easier. A happy master is a benevolent one, and I don’t kid myself into thinking I have any rights as a monster’s bride. I’m a slave again, regardless of the title. But I know what’s expected of me. Make the food, tidy the house, be willing in bed.