Chapter 8 : The Earring Man
Yisreal stood amid the dazzling blades, narrowing his eyes through heads and bodies at the earring man, seemingly focused on the same thing that distracted me.
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Places mentioned:
Castle Katella
A self-sufficient, city-like castle where the King and the Queen and the unmarried Valrinos live.
Spring
The capital city of Tyrannoson.
Kent:
A dynamic, inclusive town in the outskirt of Spring, swarming with foreign traders and merchants. All imported goods must pass here before entering the capital city.
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Creatures (that can speak and have names) mentioned:
Leopoldo Valrino
The King of Tyrannoson, and the sixth monarch of the Valrino family.
Yisreal Valrino
A son of the King. Leopoldo met the young Yisreal in the woods while hunting. Then the King brought him back to Castle Katella and announced him to be his son.
Carwen Valrino
King Leopoldo’s only daughter.
Chester Valrino
The first-born son of King Leopoldo and Queen Evelyn.
Sean Valrino
The second son of the Queen.
Leslie Valrino
The third son of the Queen. When Leopoldo first brought Yisreal back from hunting, the Queen was pregnant with Leslie.
Nicholas Valrino
The youngest son of the Queen.
Princess Irene
Married to Prince Chester. She’s also a princess of Dovewing and Queen Evelyn’s niece.
Garwallos
One of the sixth gods that participated in the Creation. At this point, Ivan doesn’t know what Garwallos created. The greatest warrior in the Central Continent is named after this god.
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8
The Earring Man
One of them dismounted from his horse. He had short hazel hair and a beard of the same color, and he was the bulkiest of all the Valrino brothers. He looked more like a Garwallos.
“How dare you let Carwen ride this wild horse?” he grumbled as he walked toward Amanda.
“Sean! I begged Yisreal to let me ride Amanda. And look—I’m fine!” Carwen spread her arms, looking like a yellow butterfly.
“I don’t buy it.” Sean smiled, lifting her off Yisreal’s horse.
Carwen looked around and spotted the brother behind the others. “Chester!” she exclaimed, running toward him. Chester dismounted, squatted to catch her in his arms, and spun her around mid-air.
“Where have you been?” Carwen asked, giggling. “I haven’t seen you in decades!”
“Oh, listen to her. I was in Kent.”
I almost found it amusing how Chester looked exactly like I’d imagined. He had features that seemed to fall between Sean and Yisreal’s; not as exquisite as Yisreal, but not as rough as Sean. He resembled their father the most—broad forehead, square jaw covered by a trimmed beard, a tall nose with a thick bone between the eyes. He had the face of a lion—except for his lips. His lips were his mother’s: thin, pale, and naturally lifted at the corners.
“Would you take me there sometime?” Carwen asked.
“Of course,” Chester replied.
“You must be Ivan Mellon,” another prince spoke up.
I looked toward the source of the voice. He appeared level-headed, with chestnut hair and pastel-colored brows on his high browbones. I was trying to decide if he was Nicholas or Leslie. The other man, who hadn't spoken yet, resembled the Queen even more: smaller in stature, with a narrower face, long sparkling eyes, and shoulder-length wavy hair. The quiver on his back was full of arrows, while his brothers' were only half-empty.
Everyone turned to me. I dismounted and bowed. "Your Highness."
Chester put Carwen down and walked over, gazing at me all the way before he laid a hand on my shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.
“I'm sorry about your father.”
He said the exact same words that his wife, Irene, had. I responded with appreciation. Almost at the same time, Yisreal dismounted. Chester turned to him, and they shared a brief but solid hug.
“You’re recovering fast,” Chester said, smiling and nodding before glancing at me. “We’re lucky to have Ivan.”
Yisreal didn’t follow the conversation. “It took you an extra-long time. Must’ve been a tricky one.”
“A tricky one?” Carwen chimed in, looking up as she stood between them. “What’s tricky?”
Chester lifted her off the ground again. “I’ll smuggle you out to Kent when you’ve grown a bit more.” He looked around and asked, “Anyone taking Carwen home? It’s getting dark. I already heard Mother yelling at us.”
The prince with high browbones and pastel eyebrows rambled on to them. Chester put Carwen on his horse. “Thanks, Nick. I owe you.”
“I don’t wanna go home,” Carwen protested against Chester, then glanced at Yisreal, as if he would speak for her.
“Come on, sweetie, have mercy on your brothers,” Nicholas said, rubbing her head as they rode slowly toward the castle.
The energy among the brothers shifted the moment Carwen was gone. They grew louder, ruder, and looser. Sean immediately suggested going to Kent for a drink, and Leslie seconded the idea, though he added that Chester must have had enough in the past two months.
“Yeah, thank you,” Chester said, catching Leslie’s belt and dragging him down from his horse. “I was drunk for two months handling the goddamn case!”
“What a bully!” Sean exclaimed.
“Said you!” Chester shot back.
“I say we go to Unicorn Tavern and stay the night there. No need to rush back,” Leslie said, as he dusted the dirt off his garments.
I was surprised that Leslie was alive—how had he survived the coming-of-age trial? King Leopoldo had one more brother besides Lerwick—who was now called the usurper—but that brother never came back. While all three kingdoms on the Central Continent practiced monogamy between kings and queens, the King of Tyrannoson was allowed to have concubines if the Queen couldn’t bear sons, or if all her sons died during the primal trial at age ten. How could Leslie have survived that trial, given how skinny and small he was? All five princes outlived the dangers of the wilderness. That alone made history.
“I’m going back,” Yisreal said as he got onto Amanda.
“No way!” Chester stopped him, then seemed to realize I was still here. “You’re not going back. Nick already made the sacrifice. Ivan, you too—come with us.”
“Me…?” I didn’t expect to be joining the princes. “I still have work to do tomorrow—”
“And we’re giving you work to do tonight,” Leslie smiled. “You’re responsible for alleviating our hangovers.”
“Come on!” Sean shook his head at Yisreal, then turned to me. “Hey, Maester, you gave Yisreal the wrong drug and brought him back domesticated!”
Chester laughed and rode alongside Yisreal. “You must all come. I’ll share this case with you. I bet none of you could ever imagine that this murderer, who killed seventeen men in a row, is a murderess.”
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Although Spring was the capital city, it wasn’t as flourishing as one might expect, due to patrols, guards, and strict inspections at the entry. Kent, therefore, became a hub for various businesses—domestic or foreign, legal or illegal.
I had passed through Kent for the first time in a wagon on my way to Castle Katella. Taverns stayed open until dawn; peddlers rubbed past pedestrians; on both sides of the street, all along the way, there were fruit stands, craft booths, sundry goods, pottery, ceramics, exotic spices and flowers, fabric, honey, furniture, slaves, child laborers, and prostitutes, among others. The spots selling humans were always more crowded than those selling goods.
We gave our horses to the pageboy. The hostess of Unicorn Tavern was sitting behind the bar across the room, puffing on her pipe while leafing through an account book. She glanced up, then walked out from behind the bar, her eyes locking onto us as she swept across each of us, head to toe. Chester asked for a more private place to sit, and she led us to the upper-floor loft, which was half the size but overlooked the first floor, including the tavern's entrance. Leslie gave the hostess a gold coin, glancing at the three occupied tables. The hostess immediately moved them downstairs, promising free wine and appetizers.
Chester sat down at the short side of the large rectangular table by the fence. Leslie sat beside him. I stood aside, waiting for Yisreal and Sean to come over. Yisreal pulled out a stool with his foot and sat down opposite Chester. Sean shook his head at Yisreal’s choice and sat down beside Chester. I figured Sean had already occupied all the space on his side, so I walked to Leslie and shared the bench with him.
“Alright, stop playing coy and tell us everything about this whore.”
We all laughed. Chester shook his head and asked Leslie, “Who told you she’s a whore?”
“Come on,” Sean roared, his voice low. “The only place women can kill men is in bed. She killed seven. Whore confirmed seven times.”
Both Leslie and Chester glanced at Yisreal. Yisreal had no reaction, only sipping his water. It was surprising that Chester had convinced him to come here.
“Leslie, aren’t you experienced?” Sean teased.
“Yep,” Leslie said, shaking his head. “Fleeing for my life all the time.”
As their laughter died down, Yisreal put down his mug of water and asked, like throwing ice into a pot of boiling water, “Why did she do that?”
We turned to him and then to Chester, who finally began his story.
“I had no idea. She not only killed them; she gouged out their hearts—I like those responsive eyes—” he looked around us satisfactorily. “Every dead body had a hole on the chest and the heart was missing. Seven of them, you could imagine how disgusting it was when they were juxtaposed in front of me.”