Blood Red Road

mother of this man.
    The mother of the King. Vicar Pinch. But it all makes sense. The picture in Rooster’s book. The way Vicar Pinch looks. Why Rooster Pinch lied when I asked him if he had any kids.
    How do you address your King? says Vicar Pinch.
    She don’t speak. Jest cowers there.
    Then he screams it, spit flyin from his mouth. How do you address your King?
    Yer … Yer Majesty, she says. I address my King as Yer Majesty.
    If you forget again, he says, he will have you killed. Do you understand?
    She nods her head, grabs a corner of his robe and kisses it. Yes, she whispers. All I wanna do is please … Yer Majesty. It’s all I ever wanted.
    He kicks her hand away. Do not dare to touch your King! he says. Now. What were you saying about this girl?
    Yer Majesty, I only said that … that I know her, Yer Majesty. She ain’t like the rest. Her spirit’s too strong to let her be beat. She lost today because she wanted to lose. She’s a sly one. She’s up to somethin.
    Miz Pinch glares hate at me.
    Enough! He waves his keercheef an she scuttles off into a dark corner of the cellblock. The King will speak to her, says Vicar Pinch. This … Angel of Death.
    DeMalo steps up to the cell. Come here, girl, he says. His Majesty wishes to speak to you.
    It’s the first time I’ve heard his voice. It’s deep. Dark. Jest what I’d especk it to sound like.
    Come, he says.
    I git to my feet, real slow. I take a couple of steps. Stop.
    Closer, he says.
    I move. Then I’m right next to the cell bars. Right next to him. I don’t look up. But I feel him. The warmth of him. The cold of him.
    Saba, I think I hear him whisper.
    A strange weakness grips me. I sway towards him. Grab at the bars to stop myself.
    Then he’s turnin away, he’s bowin to the King, he’s movin back into the shadows. Did he say my name? No … I must of imagined it.
    Now Pinch steps up to my cell. His hands shoot out. Grab me through the bars. Grab me by the neck. His fingers is strong. They press on my windpipe. Jest enough to make it hard to breathe.
    Is the woman right? he says. Did you deliberately lose that fight?
    No! I says. I didn’t! I wouldn’t!
    His fingers tighten. I grab his wrists. Struggle to git free. He’s too strong. I drag in air through my nose, frantic. He stinks like nuthin I ever smelled before. Sour, sweet, rotten … all at the same time.
    Your King has made a long and arduous journey to see you fight, he says. The miraculous warrior they’re all talking about, the Angel of Death. He would be vastly displeased to find that he was being deceived.
    I ain’t deceivin!
    Last chance! Are you lying!
    No! I gasp. Losin means death! Everybody knows that!
    Indeed, he says. Why would you lose on purpose? Why would anyone? It makes no sense.
    Suddenly he lets go. I fall to the ground, gaspin, holdin my throat where he pressed on it.
    You’re imagining things, woman, he says to Miz Pinch. You’ve had a good run. She’s made you a small fortune. You’ll just have to find yourself another fighter once this one’s run the gauntlet.
    I’m sure yer right, Yer Majesty, she says. Yer always right, you always know best. I shouldn’t of bothered you. I’m sorry fer wastin yer time, Yer Majesty.
    Miz Pinch, a cowed dog at her master’s heels.
    Slowly I git to my feet.
    Wait!
    Pinch grabs my wrist. Hauls me aginst the cell bars. He presses a cold finger on my cheekbone. Right on my birthmoon tattoo. He hisses in a breath.
    What’s this? he says.
    It’s a … tattoo, I says.
    The King can see that. Where did you get it?
    I think fast.
    Where I come from, everybody’s got ’em, I says.
    And where’s that? he says.
    Out east, I says.
    East, he says. I see.
    He stares at me a long moment. His small, dead eyes so much like his mother’s. He lets me go. He steps back an holds the kercheef to his nose agin.
    DeMalo, he says, the King will remove from this pestilent hole.
    Majesty, says DeMalo an bows his head.
    But not before I see it. The slight twitch of his lips. A flicker of somethin across his face.
    He despises Vicar Pinch.
    The Tonton bow the King out like they bowed him in. When they reach the cellblock door, DeMalo lets Pinch an his mother go through first.
    Then he turns back to look at me.
    My breath catches in my throat. I drop my head. I mustn’t meet his eyes. I don’t dare. Not even in the gloom of the cellblock.
    I feel it when he leaves.
    Somethin … lets go of me.
    An I can breathe agin.

    The