Enna took a quick breath. The king—looking for her? She steeled herself for the inevitable rush of weakness that usually accompanied such thoughts, but this time, she managed to stand straight and without any trembling of her limbs.
Rosa looked over at her. "You'd best go, child."
Enna nodded. "Thank you for the food, Rosandrine." Her voice felt hoarse from disuse. Rosa nodded, and the young centaur motioned for Enna to follow him. So she did.
The coal-headed youth Enna'd seen earlier was leaning patiently against the doorframe of the kitchen, but he straightened when he saw their approach. The centaur bowed low, though Enna couldn't bring herself to curtsy—she didn't feel particularly ladylike, anyhow, with Sabsestrin's canvas tunic and wild, uncombed hair.
The youth bowed to her. "I'm pleased to find you, my lady."
Now that she was closer, she saw that he looked to be the same age as she was, perhaps a bit younger, with unnervingly bright blue eyes and tawny freckles splashed generously across his nose and cheeks. "How did you know I was here?" she asked.
He grinned. "That's the thing—I didn't. Guesswork, my lady, is what I thrive on."
Enna must have looked puzzled, for he went on thus: "The captain of the ship you were stowing away on—" Enna winced involuntarily—"wants justice, and when we went to fetch you this morning, you were gone, and my brother is currently searching the castle for you."
Enna felt the blood drain from her face. "Oh…"
The youth watched her with his head tilted curiously. "Come now, don't fret. My royal siblings and I are fair judges, if I may say so myself."
Royal siblings?
"Come. The quicker you come to the hearing, the quicker it'll all be over."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The youth motioned for her to follow him, and she did so meekly, through a practically labyrinthine jumble of corridors, until he opened the door to the throne room and shooed various courtiers out of the way. "Have no fear, my lady," he whispered. "Stand here, and I'll fetch my brother."
Two young queens occupied half of the four thrones in front of Enna, and they watched her not unkindly. Partly to get her bearings, and partly to avoid the queens' gazes, Enna looked around the large room, and felt a nasty plummeting sensation in her stomach when she locked eyes with the captain of the Seacharger. His lip curled in a sneer, and he made a sudden movement towards her. "So you think yeh'll get away, do yeh, wench?" he snarled.
Enna lifted her chin. "I'll take what I deserve, sir, and no less."
"And why should I believe yeh?"
"Honor, sir, an art you would do well to learn."
The captain snarled and started towards her, but a golden-haired young man leapt between the two of them just before he reached her. "Come now, captain!" he cried. "I won't have brutality in my court."
The man's back was to Enna, but the captain shrunk back under what she assumed to be a fierce look. "Yes, Your Majesty, sir."
"Take note, friends," the golden-haired man said, looking around, "of the captain's tendency for viciousness."
There was murmured assent, and the man glanced at Enna before walking up to the first throne and sitting down in it. His dark blue eyes glittered with…something that Enna couldn't quite put her finger on—nothing ill-tempered or malicious, but a sort of quiet dissatisfaction.
"May the hearing be brought to a start," he said, and the coal-headed youth scurried past Enna and to the only remaining throne, but not before throwing Enna a strange gesture, with his fingers folded against his palm and one thumb sticking out towards the sky.
"Captain Minodaurus," the golden-haired man went on, "what is your complaint?"
The captain stumbled forward with one finger pointing towards Enna. "That…that…minx was stowed away on my ship!"
Enna felt a prickle of anger.
"Lady, what is your reply?"
The man's question caught Enna off-guard, and she stammered uncertainly, "W-well, sire, I-I was stowed away on the ship—"
"See? See?" the captain said excitedly.
"—but I brought no ill effect to the ship or its crew. I took only of the stale bread and water. The ship's crew feasted mainly on salt pork and ale, anyhow. They were…drunk most of the time, most unfit for sailing."
"Is this true, Captain?" the eldest queen said severely. The golden-haired king spared Enna a benevolent look, and she felt her pounding heart steady a bit.
"I-I—we-well," the captain stammered. "Well—yes, all right, they were drunk some of the time. Either grog or mutiny, see!"
"When did you discover the girl?" the coal-headed youth interrupted.
"'Bout a week before we set into port," he grumbled.
"And what did you do once you had her?"
"Tossed her in the brig, sire."
"For a week?"
"Aye."
"And did you supply her with food and water during this week?"
"Aye, sire."
A sound of disbelief escaped Enna's throat, though she didn't mean for it to. The golden-haired king turned to her. "And do you have an objection, my lady?"
She nodded, avoiding the captain's vicious look. "I wronged them, sire, but they did not…did not feed me."
"She lies!" the captain bellowed. "The wench lies!"
"No, she does not, Minodaurus, and you know thus well."
This new voice prompted curious mutters from the courtiers, and the four monarchs' gazes were now directed towards the back of the room. Enna turned to look. A young man with untidy brown hair was being escorted into the hall by two centaurs that looked to be more carrying him than otherwise, his youthful face dirtied and pale beneath the sunburn, and his lips dry and cracked.
"Who is this?" the eldest queen asked.
"Aramir, Majesty," he replied.
"Do you have a last name, Aramir?" she pressed.
Aramir's bright eyes grew grave. "Ask him, Your Majesty." He nodded towards the captain.
"Quiet, boy," the captain snarled, fixing him with an utterly hateful look.
"Never mind the last name," the golden-haired king said. "It is of little consequence in this matter. Where did you find him, Orieus?"
"He was aboard the Seacharger, sire," one of the centaurs answered. "Lashed to the rigging."
He and his fellow centaur turned the youth around, and Enna's stomach knotted with sympathy as her eyes fell upon his blood-spotted tunic. But she had no time to react, for Orieus pulled it up to show Aramir's back. Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle a cry. Long, bloody gashes streaked across Aramir's fair skin, arcing up over his shoulders and over to his stomach and chest; dried blood was crusted over everything, and reopened wounds were trickling fresh paths of red down his torn flesh. Enna counted twenty, twenty-five whiplashes before the centaurs pulled his shirt down and turned him back to face the monarchs.
"Methinks the captain didn't want the boy to tell his side of the story, sire," Orieus said grimly.
Both kings gave the captain smoldering looks. "Come, Aramir," said the youngest queen, "you are safe. Let us hear your story."
Aramir looked over to Enna before taking a shuddering breath. "Your Majesties, the captain locked the girl in the brig—that's the hold, where the Seacharger's cargo is—and refused her water and food. I…I thought she was dead, Your Majesties. She stopped makin' noise after a time, you see."
"And how long were you on the ship, Aramir?"
"Since it left port, Your Majesty, from Galma. I'm one o' the crew." A shadow of pain crossed his face, and he pinched his white lips together. "Now I wish I wasn't."
"Have you been whipped so before?"
Aramir hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I tried to bring her some water, see, 'cause the captain's done the same thing to us before…"
"He directly went against my orders, sire," the captain interrupted. "And I demand justice!"
"You shall have it, Captain," the eldest queen said, waving a hand at him. "Aramir, is that so? Did you go against his orders?"
"I didn't believe them right, your Highness."
"You realize that's punishable by law, don't you?" she asked softly.
Aramir hung his head quietly.
"What about the sea rat?" the captain demanded.
"Lady—" the coal-headed youth began, then stopped abruptly. "Say—what's your name, anyhow?"
"Enna, sire. Enna Stalresin."
"Right. Well, Enna Stalresin, I'm sure you know that stowing away on a ship is also punishable by law…"
Enna gulped convulsively and nodded.
"Then I sentence Enna Stalresin to two nights in the dungeon for stowing away on a foreign ship. Does that satisfy you, my royal siblings?"
The other monarchs nodded.
"When your sentence has been served, you are to lawfully board a departing passenger ship and return to the port at which you first boarded the Seacharger."
A sick feeling settled in Enna's stomach. "Must it be Galma, sire?" she asked hesitantly.
The golden-haired king looked surprised. "Well, no, I suppose it needn't be…"
"Thank you, sire."
"And Aramir, you are sentenced to four nights in the dungeon for directly disobeying your commanding captain, but henceforth will receive care for your wounds. You, too, will board the next departing passenger ship."
"Yes, sire."
"And Captain Minodaurus?"
"What?" he snarled.
"For maltreatment of both a prisoner and a crewmember, your ship is henceforth expelled from the harbor here, and you are to cast off before noonday tomorrow, and you shall receive no reimbursement for your lost seaman. Apply to the Lord Peridan if you desire compensation for the supplies Enna Stalresin took to sustain her life. Court dismissed."
Chatter rose up from the courtiers, and Enna watched the monarchs as they turned to converse with each other. The coal-headed youth said something that made the other three laugh, and then the eldest queen reached over him to pat the youngest one's hand—she was watching Aramir with a worried look on her face, but at her sister's touch, turned towards her siblings and smiled. Suddenly, the golden-haired king looked up and caught Enna's eye, and before she could look away, he gave her a slow, solemn wink.
"Come, Lady Enna."
A short man-goat took Enna's elbow with a gentle hand, and with many kind reassurances led her out of the throne room.