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The King's Right
THE KING’S RIGHT
©2007 Kristina Dalton
Stonehedge Publishing
ISBN: 9781602760
PROLOGUE
On the continent of Elgone, there existed a marvelous kingdom known as Etania. It stretched from the north Etanian Sea, west to the temple of the priests, east to the Pearl Shore where stood the temple of the priestesses. Near the warm southern ocean, the lands bordered another fine sovereignty, Samos.
Etania’s king, Lioncort Rione Etanis, ruled with strength, integrity and unequaled compassion for his subjects. Weavers and butchers, seamstresses and maids could expect an audience with the same speed as a wealthy nobleman or knight.
He protected the rights of women, created special laws to preserve their ownership of property.
Equivalence as people, if not of station, and education came as birth-granted rights to everyone. Trade and agriculture flourished. Everyone prospered.
In time, the king approached his southern neighbor with an offer for his daughter’s hand. Princess Zulee’epar of Samos came to sit on the throne of Etania before seeing her eighteenth turn of seasons.
Nine times they changed again. And for reasons of her own, the queen dishonored her husband with an adulterous alliance to the Royal Warlock, Myrrhaz. He in turn betrayed the queen to her death.
Myrrhaz and his force of magic-wielding warriors executed a coup for the throne. Lioncort and his bodyguards fell. Knights, yeomen, bowmen, scouts and sentinels all perished in defense of their sovereign’s castle.
As word swept the country of their beloved ruler’s fall, the common people he’d long nurtured and safeguarded swarmed to face the enemy.
An epic, desperate and ferocious battle ensued.
Even the magic-using fighters could not vanquish the subjects determined to avenge Lioncort’s slaying. They fought through the warlock’s soldiers without regard for their own mortality.
Myrrhaz made a lethal last stand.
In vain.
The surviving people - crofters, thatchers, sheep farmers, laundresses, even children - dragged the warlock into the castle courtyard and burned him alive.
Their lord’s doom was vindicated. But the monarchy had no one to care for it.
A bit at a time, warlords invaded the unprotected land. They fought each other for possession and eventually built keeps and fortresses. Called War-Kings, they reigned over the conquered, became law unto themselves.
King Lioncort’s empire of honor, equality, abundance, enlightenment and beauty passed abruptly into legend.
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2/5/2009, 8:55 am
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Kourtesan
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Re: The King's Right
CHAPTER ONE
Other People’s Plans
Gods’ year 1223
Late summer
White Stag Mountains
Near River NaPetrah
Land of the War-Kings
Continent of Elgone
“Oh, milady,” crooned Milda, the slim little maid. “’Tis websilk. The finest. Imported from the Jewel Islands, make no mistake. Worthy a queen.”
Suvari Illorian Cierdree D’Argraae turned from the open window and viewed the cobalt length of rare material without interest.
The breeze blew a lock of her gold-skeined red hair over her shoulder. Smoke from the castle forge and the scent of wildflowers carried on the air. “Another bride gift.” She glanced about at the cloth- and- ribbon-bedecked packages stacked on the marble floor of her tower bedchamber.
“How exciting,” Milda breathed.
“How absurd.” Suvari considered throwing them out the window for the pleasure of seeing them smash on the flagstones of the courtyard. “I’m expected to swoon and sigh over gifts from people I’ve never met, given in honor of my betrothal to a man whose name or face I know not.”
Milda, who as body servant to a highborn lady would remain free the troublesome attentions of men, continued to dreamily examine the silk. It tempted Suvari to pinch her.
The chamber door opened. Glynnis, Milda’s mother and Suvari’s old nursemaid, bustled in carrying a basket filled with violets, pink daisies and wild white roses.
“My lady Suvari, you’ve not changed for luncheon.” Her abundant girth, hurried pace and the summer warmth combined to have her huffing.
Suvari turned to gaze in the silver-framed looking glass. She still wore her knee-length tresses loose, and a simple morning dress of white muslin with soft stays beneath. The midday meal, taken in the common hall, demanded a full corset, fashionable day gown and confined hair.
Wrinkling her nose, she considered her image. Since she developed curves, she’d heard herself referred to as ‘blessed’ in beauty. Right now, she would prefer running the hills and vales like she had as a girl.
Before she became a commodity.
“I’m not hungry,” Suvari said.
In the depths of the mirror, she saw Milda place the bolt of silk back in its round case. “’Tis unseemly you not appear in the common hall this day.”
Glynnis sat the basket on the floor and began placing the flowers in a vase.
Suvari turned from the reflections. “No, I couldn’t possibly let anyone think my father’s decision to barter me for a trade route displeases me.”
“School your tongue,” Glynnis chided. “’Tis your place to wed for family advantage.”
Family, Suvari thought. Five older brothers, all of which came from their father’s mistress, and a full sister still in swaddling. Their mother, Heyle, died birthing the baby. But even before that, protocol dictated the matriarch remain in seclusion save for special occasions. She kept to her tower, leaving her children to the care of nursemaids.
What do I owe my ‘family’?
A year ago she bribed an old servant into revealing the secret of Heyle Argraae’s heritage. It seemed the late lady of Boor’s Roost Castle came from a line of magic users; priestesses of the blue robes. Powerful and pure.
Suvari’s ambiguous ideas began to take firmer form.
If she could escape, reach the far north temple of the Moon Goddess - Lalunah - she could pledge her life to the order.
Smiling, she gestured for Milda to bring her luncheon gown and corset. If she must become property, then she’d belong to the goddess.
Then never again would men rule her.
#
Breezes caught the red and yellow banners of Boor’s Roost Castle with a snap as Tanis approached the watchtower of the fortress. His stallion halted on command, shook his mane and blew a weary breath.
“Hail to the watch,” Tanis called. Holding the reins in one hand, he took the small, hammered copper seal from the inside pocket of his leather jack, lifted it high. “I answer the summons of your lord.”
Two guards stepped from behind the stone crenellations atop the tower. Tanis heard the distinct click of a crossbow engaged. He’d sensed the aim taken at him. Expected it, even.
“Your name, sir,” demanded a guard.
“Tanis.”
Murmurs passed between them.
Tanis expected that as well. There came a low grind as the portcullis lifted. “Let’s go, boy,” he urged his tired horse.
Stable boys rushed to take the stallion as he rode into the courtyard. A liveried manservant came to greet him as he dismounted.
“Welcome, sir.”
Tanis handed him the seal. “Take that to your master. I will follow when I’ve seen my mount settled.”
The gray-haired servant blinked. “Sir, the lads will attend it.”
“The vocation which makes me of interest to your lord depends greatly upon this steed.” Tanis left the older man staring in disbelief. Calling back, Tanis added, “War-King Hygarre surely knows the value of a good horse.”
When he’d put the stallion in an big sunny stall and seen to the horse’s feeding, Tanis gathered his pack, weapons, then went to meet the lord of Boor's Roost.
The noise of the hall receded for a moment when he entered. In the brief quiet, the snarls of quarreling hounds seemed very loud.
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2/5/2009, 8:57 am
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Kourtesan
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Re: The King's Right
Conversation and eating resumed. A pair of pages offered to take his things. Tanis declined. He scanned the midday meal crowd for the man who summoned him.
At the far end of the hall, a carved table sat atop a dais. A huge barrel-chested man garbed in a yellow tunic thumped the table for emphasis as he spoke to the five younger men dining there.
Tanis strode toward them. He stepped onto the platform. Above the din, he said, “King Hygarre, I am Tanis, come at your summons.”
At that, the bear-like man turned in his chair. The heavy curved sword at his side clanked. “Ah!” He shoved back his chair and stood. Extending his hand, he rumbled, “Tanis the Dark. When I had no advance word, I doubted my parcel reached you. Welcome.”
“The messenger you hired had some trouble finding me.” Tanis clasped arms with the self-made sovereign. In these lands, those who could take it, ruled.
“Come, break bread and meat with us.”
After riding the better part of eighteen days without chancing a fire, he accepted with gratitude. His weapons he kept close, either on or under the chair. A round little serving girl brought him a wooden plate and a heavy, ruby-crusted goblet.
Despite the rowdiness of the hall, he sensed many curious eyes on him.
A page served stewed venison, sliced pheasant, roast potatoes and nutbread with honey. Filled his cup from a pitcher of dark ale.
“These are my sons. The war-princes of Boor's Roost.” Hygarre spoke through a mouthful of meat, took several long swallows from his tankard. Set it back on the table with a thump. “At my right, Idold the Firstborn, then Hethrik, Gavern, Barloff, and Adgoth.”
Tanis inclined his head, touched two fingers to his brow in the customary salute.
In age they appeared to range from a score to a score and six. Their sire had stamped them all with fiery, flowing red hair and beard, black eyes. Heredity and battling to defend their land gave them shoulders like hill elk, forearms like blacksmiths. The mountain sun had baked their skin mahogany.
“By rights,” Tanis said, “in them you have your army.”
Hygarre guffawed in paternal pleasure. “And in Gavern, a clever linguist.”
Idold’s eyes glinted from under red brows. “I’ve heard stories of you since my beard came in.”
Tanis estimated himself perhaps six season turns the prince’s senior. “Stories are often just that.”
Hygarre signaled a page to refill his tankard. “I have a problem that wants your kind of help.”
Meeting the war-king’s gaze, he replied. “I have ridden far to hear it.”
“The land along the river between my kingdom and the sea belongs to Rathgorne Silvoore. In the past we were rivals, fighting over the borders.”
Hygarre drained a good portion of the newly poured ale, wiped his thick mustache with his sleeve. “Rath and myself’ve made shaky peace. I need his section of the river and the bay for my trade ships and barges. He needs iron and copper from my mines. Given our history, we both require insurance in a bargain.”
Tanis tasted the stew, sipped his ale. “Sounds to me a diplomat would serve better than I.”
“So said I,” Idold rumbled. Hethrik’s fist connected with his brother’s thigh as if to shush him.
Gavern smoothed his flowing beard. He wore braids banded with copper on either side of his mouth in the fashion of a courtier. “I see no reason we can’t fight our way to this end.”
Hygarre growled at his sons. “Get your boots from under my table. All of you. I wish to speak to my guest alone.”
The princes shoved back from the table amid muffled murmurs of dissent. None challenged their sire by look or word. Tanis took the opportunity to try the fowl and potatoes.
“Unruly pups,” Hygarre muttered. “Now then. I come to your part in this. Rath and myself’ve struck a contract of marriage between my eldest daughter and his firstborn, Torath.”
“A tried and true solution.” Tanis bit into the chunk of honey-drenched bread.
“There is a problem.” The war-king leaned forward, lowered his voice. “Rumors began in the spring. Talk of a rebirth of the followers of the Goddess Kahal.”
Tanis set down the bread. A deity from ancient times, Kahal demanded sacrifice and destruction in her name. Followers held gruesome banquets, ate the flesh of their enemies to celebrate her.
“Worship of her vanished a thousand years ago. Longer maybe.”
Hygarre shook his head. “I didn’t believe, either. Hired a scout to disprove it. A half-elf.”
Tanis knew only one scout who fit the description. “Kowen?”
“Aye.”
That settled the question of possible misinformation. “What news?”
“A horde of followers, as many as four hundred roam the coastal forests northwest of here. A bit at a time, sightings draw nearer.” The sovereign pushed aside his plate, emptied the ale. “Not a week ago, a patrol just outside the boundaries of my land fell prey.”
“Why did you send for me?”
“I promised a tremendous dowry. That we can float down river to them on camouflaged rafts. Bits at a time. Flesh and blood are Kahal wealth. The horde has no interest in gold or jewels. My daughter, however.” Hygarre sighed, paused. “That is another matter.”
Tanis considered the religious traditions and superstitions that prevailed in these climes. “You will send her to the eunuch priests?”
“Before the pre-nuptial contracts can be signed, her maidenhood must have their verification, then the union blessed. Rathgorne has made that a nonnegotiable part of the deal.”
Generally, only true aristocrats did. Tanis decided the war-kings must desire consideration as such. Rather than rulers-by-might. “You have many warriors between you. Enough to protect her.”
“Enough to provide a huge battle, aye,” Hygarre agreed. “Neither kingdom would benefit from attracting the horde’s notice. My advisor and I have decided two people could pass unnoticed through the Great Forest, north to the temple. Torath will also journey there in secret. The marriage will unite our lands against a common threat and insure prosperity for both. The half-elf recommended you. Your reputation will put my mind at peace. I wish to hire you for this task.”
Tanis imagined dragging a terrified girl over the dangerous country. Not his usual line of work. And definitely not appealing.
Years ago he’d learned not to burn his bridges with outright refusals. It made better business to quote an outrageous fee, let potential employers decline.
Taking a swallow of ale, he said, “Seven thousand pieces of gold, horses to carry it, delivered to my vault with the bankers of Windgate City. Another two thousand in credit vouchers redeemable by you, for use there.”
“Fine. My terms are simple. The girl delivered to the priests virginity intact, by next full moon.”
Tanis suppressed his surprise. “Paid in advance. Nonrefundable. Farrier’s attention for my horse, smithy’s for my weapons.”
“Done.” Hygarre extended his hand again to conclude deal.
Tanis never expected the man to meet the exorbitant price. Since Hygarre had, to finance retirement, even baby-sitting a pampered princess became bearable.
“I won’t tolerate tantrums,” he stipulated.
“Beat her if you like,” Hygarre responded, good humor restored. “Just don’t harm her face. Or break any bones.”
Tanis couldn’t help wondering if he didn’t do a good deed in taking the girl from a father like Hygarre. He clasped hands with the war-king and sealed it with the vow that made him a legend. “You have my word. It will be done.”
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2/5/2009, 9:00 am
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Justbec
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This is GREAT! I'm grabbing my coffee and reading it again. Thanks for sharing Kristina!
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2/5/2009, 9:10 am
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Catcherlady
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Wow, great job Kristina...thanks so much for sharing! 
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2/5/2009, 12:11 pm
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Justbec
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The King's Right
Thank you K! I'm going to check out your website.
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2/6/2009, 12:06 pm
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Justbec
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The King's Right
I will! It looks fine to me but I'm going to snoop around a bit.
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2/6/2009, 1:05 pm
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Justbec
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The King's Right
I love the blog. Print is a bit small but that's ok. Fun to read.
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2/11/2009, 9:30 am
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Justbec
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The King's Right
LOL.. not sure I know the fix. But it's not a biggie. I can read it.
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2/11/2009, 9:50 am
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Justbec
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The King's Right
Aw....
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2/11/2009, 10:17 am
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Kourtesan
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Re: The King's Right
CHAPTER TWO
Family Ties and Chance Meetings
Suvari came into the common hall as her sire and a tall dark man left through the wide open double doors. Brilliant sunshine pooled on the stone floor. A huge pink and blue butterfly swooped and darted just inside before it fluttered free.
“While I am expected to observe protocol,” she whispered to Glynnis, “it would appear neither my father, nor brothers are.” The scents of the meal swirled in the warm air.
“Shush, child.”
Her two sheer veils allowed her clear vision while shielding her features. Only her closest relations could gaze upon her unveiled face. She’d worn a covering anytime she left her tower room since her twelfth birthday.
Suvari savored the thought of answering only to the goddess and female head of the order. Anticipated walking unveiled in the world, feeling the sunshine on her face, wind in her hair.
Having her sex an advantage, rather than a prison sentence.
Pages rushed to seat she and her maids at the small ladies table to the left of the dais. Suvari bristled. Yet another insult. Gender made her unworthy the high table.
Through the pheasant spiced with saffron, potatoes, apples baked in mead and cinnamon, and the nutbread, she thought only of who in the castle she might bribe to aide her escape. Her knowledge of the outside world remained limited. Might she need guards?
I will sell or trade every gown and jewel. Perhaps hire female guards from Windgate City.
“Milady,” Milda whispered, “there’s a talk of a mercenary come to see your sire. We should hie you to the tower. You should not be exposed to such a sort.”
“Mercenary?” Suvari heard the breathless quality of her voice and clapped an iron restraint on it before she spoke again. That term she’d heard bandied many times by her father and brother’s. “Why ever would a hired sword come to Boor’s Roost?”
Glynnis sniffed in disapproval. “No lady of your station need concern herself.”
Suvari made an effort to hide her expression in her cup of cider. Sometime since the bride gifts began arriving, she’d begun to cultivate guile.
By all means, then,” she murmured, “I shall return to my chamber.”
As they ascended the spiral stairs, Glynnis’s labored breath echoed in the close confines. She would no doubt welcome the opportunity to rest.
Inspiration struck. Suvari stopped on the second landing. “Glynnis, I would see my sister, the young princess.”
The nursemaid made a sound Suvari recognized as approval. “’Tis seemly you say goodbye to her.” She took her set of keys from the pocket of her skirt. Plying one, she opened the door to the girls’ nursery.
Scents of peppermint oil, chamomile and oatmeal powder struck a poignant chord in Suvari’s memory. She remembered her childhood here. The sense of having the world revolve around her.
The young nursemaid, Thay, rose as they entered. She set aside the hooded blanket she knitted. “Princess, your sister sleeps.”
Suvari’s heart hitched unexpectedly when she stood at the cradle’s edge. Her sister, just over a turn of seasons aged, lie stretched on her back in innocent repose.
Here the ties of clan tugged.
“Rhythianna.” Suvari suffered a moment’s doubt. She’d come here for a robbery of sorts. Every child born to Hygarre Argraae had an official hammered copper royal seal of the kingdom hung in the cradle.
Suvari intended to take the seal to aide her flight. It would speed her to the border of her father’s lands. Gazing down at the white-gowned cherub in the bed, she had second thoughts. Then she realized she could do nothing for her sister bound by the strictures of her current life. Leaning over, she kissed the soft round baby-cheek, palmed the seal.
Suvari slid the copper piece down the neck of her gown, straightened. “Goodbye, Rhythianna.” She recalled the name she’d given her as an infant. “Thia the Feisty.”
I will find a better way. For both of us. And by my blood, I swear to save you.
As she sat in a chair by the window, shadows told Suvari the afternoon hours aged into evening. Guests streamed into Boor’s Roost. Carriages and contingents of riders began arriving just after she returned from the midday meal. Her Maiden Feast would commence when the moon rose.
What a mockery to toast matrimonial imprisonment as the symbol of the virgin goddess Lalunah climbed to rule the sky.
Milda’s gentle snores made Suvari glance at the bed. She’d convinced the two women to nap there as she herself could not. Glynnis had raised her with none of the sweetness or affection they displayed for Thia. Yet, Glynnis still represented the closest thing to a mother Suvari possessed.
When the time came to go, she would miss the busy, blustering woman.
A chorus of male laughter rose from the courtyard. Suvari considered drawing the shutters. But they’d only blow open without locking. And the key resided on the ring in Glynnis’s skirt pocket.
Realization struck Suvari.
Glynnis had shed her outer skirt and cloak before climbing into bed. They hung on a hook by the chamber door.
A giddy rush of excitement flooded her. Without pausing to consider possible repercussions, Suvari rose and tip-toed across the chamber. Breathless, she took the keys, donned the voluminous cloak.
She exited the chamber and locked it behind. Heartbeat wild and erratic, she hastened down the stairs. The cloak, made to accommodate the nursemaid’s rotund proportions, hung long on Suvari’s slim form. It caught often underfoot.
She had a general idea where the men’s guest quarters lie. This chance to speak to the mercenary would not come again.
At the base of the tower steps she paused. Her corset made breathing difficult. In this emotional state, she feared fainting for the first time.
Without removing her gown, she couldn’t manage loosening the garment. So, screwed up courage, resolve and continued.
She passed small groups of manservants, valets, and pages brought by guests. The huge cowl hood that concealed her face also complicated visual navigation. Twice she bumped into corners.
In a quiet moment, she dared push back the coif. The hall where she stood had a stone floor inlaid with painted tiles. Tapestries adorned the walls. Iron wall brackets held torches to beat back the shadows. At the end of the corridor, a recessed area indicated a stairwell.
Suvari wondered if it might lead to a servants wing. Time grew short for her to conclude her exploration. She must return to her tower. Garbed in a maid’s cloak, a servant’s section would provide the route of least complications.
Decision made, she drew up the cowl and rushed down the corridor.
She heard a door open behind her. Her brother Gavern’s voice carried in the long passage.
“Come to my chamber tonight when the feast ends. I’ve not had enough of you.”
Her heart thundered. If he discovered her, he’d doubtless whip her for the reckless offense. With the hood obscuring her face and vision, she stumbled on the first stair, dashed upward.
Not halfway, a dark shape turned the corner. Fright-induced impulse made her turn to flee. The cloak caught between her soft shoe and the stair. She slipped, grasped at the cool rough wall.
A big warm hand intercepted hers instead.
“Gently there, little one.” The deep masculine voice held not a hint of condescension.
Suvari found herself turned and held tight to a long, very hard body. The scents of leather and pine clung to him. Her rescuer stood on the step above her. It made him seem larger-than-life. Godlike.
Her mind stumbled over itself. Her cleverness deserted her. “My thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
The timbre of his oddly-accented voice made her belly flutter. She wondered if one could die of fear.
Suvari collected herself with great effort. She kept her face down, adopted a tone more native to a maid. “’Tis my shame the ale is more potent than my tolerance.”
“I hoped my touch intoxicated you.”
She experienced a distinct impression he enjoyed this. Her inner-self, recovered from the stress of near-discovery, yearned to cut with words. However, a maid would not dare.
To keep in character, she affected a different tone. “Pardon, kind sir. I must go.”
She stepped aside, made to pass. He caught her waist, pulled her close. “Stay a moment. A kiss would thank me better.”
Somehow, she knew her reaction warranted. Servant or lady. She slapped at his familiar grasp. “Unhand me!”
He released her. Suvari tossed caution to the wind, hitched up the too-long cloak and her skirt, took the stairs at a very unladylike run.
She had to pause twice to prevent a faint. Then move with the quiet of a mouse as she opened the chamber door.
Glynnis and Milda snored in rhythm.
Relief rendered Suvari’s knees to jelly. She returned the cloak and keys, hurried to sit in the chair by the window.
Moments later the watch blew their horns to announce sunset.
The maids woke.
Suvari bid them a serene, “Good evening,” and stood.
Tanis smiled to himself as he soaked in a bath. Whoever had hidden under that big cape, it certainly had not been a servant. No maid, no matter how coddled and favored possessed hands so white and soft. Let alone wore the essence of rare night-blooming red jasmine.
Steam rose as he reclined against the wood rim. Curiosity deviled him. What lady owned daring enough to masquerade as a maid?
He closed his eyes and found his thoughts still reaching for her. As a general rule, he avoided aristocratic women. They came with a wealth of complications and emotional instabilities. However, for one so spirited, he might make an exception.
Tanis sat up as an disagreeable idea dawned. What would have a lady in the men’s guest quarters if not a lover?
What care he? He’d given his word. Had a job to do.
The pleasure of the bath deserted him. He washed, rose to prepare for the feast honoring the girl he would take north.
The myriad aromas of roasting meat, mulled wine and beeswax candles swirled in the air as Tanis entered the common hall. Musicians played lute, piccolo and drum. Guests danced in the area cleared mid-room. Pages hurried among the crowd, bearing platters of pies and pasties, honeyed fruit, wine and ale.
Already he wished he’d made some excuse to War-King Hygarre and stayed in his chamber.
“Tanis the Dark.” Idold’s voice addressed him.
Tanis turned as the first-born and his brother Gavern approached. “Good Eventide to you both. Well wishes on your sister’s match.”
In his sire’s absence, Gavern’s true manner emerged. “Can’t imagine why Father trusts you with her. Unless he knows something we don’t.”
Having seen the prince going into a squire’s room earlier, Tanis had little doubt the man knew much of the vice he indicated. “Perhaps your father has less knowledge, rather than more.”
The subtle barb eluded Idold, who’s attention turned to the sway of a woman’s skirt. Gavern’s face mottled red with rage. But, he made no reply.
Tanis held the prince’s gaze.
In a moment the first-born’s focus returned to them. “When will you leave?”
“After your sister has broken her fast.”
“I oppose Father’s decision.”
Tanis nodded. “It remains his to make. If you will excuse me, I would speak to the king.”
He made his appearance to Hygarre, offered congratulations on the match.
As he turned to take his leave, he saw the bride-to-be gowned in white, seated with her maids on a small carved bench. Created of some gossamer-like material, the dress sparkled with tiny pearls and diamonds. A king’s ransom in pink diamonds circled her head like a crown atop the lace veil.
He suffered a moment’s pity for her, put on display. A decoration rather than participant in her own Maiden Feast.
Such sentiments would not serve him.
Tanis clamped a steel hold on himself, bowed in acknowledgment, then strode past. He almost halted as the faint, but unmistakable scent of night-blooming red jasmine wafted up from the princess.
In that instant, he knew his mysterious adventuress and the girl where one.
Tanis faced an ugly reality. His honor rested upon delivering her to the priests with her maidenhood in tact. If she’d already given it to a lover, he’d make damn sure her father knew it.
He did not intend to assume blame for deflowering the chit.
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2/14/2009, 9:06 am
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Kourtesan
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Re: The King's Right
CHAPTER THREE
Princess Meets Mercenary
“I am to have what?” Suvari stared in stunned surprise at her father and his physician. They’d arrived moments after she returned from the hall, catching her in only her corset and chemise.
Ever diligent and mindful of propriety, Glynnis had tossed the heavy, full-length lace veil she’d worn back on her.
Her father spoke in a bass rumble. “The contract demands a virgin bride. I’ve brought Tuathal to perform the examination.”
The impending indignity made Suvari feel ill. “Father, by the Gods, I swear I am maiden.”
“Then you’ve naught to fear,” he replied. Impatiently he waved a hand. “Make the necessary confirmation, Tuathal. I shall wait on the landing.”
She considered physical revolt. It cut to her soul she would have to endure the humiliating procedure. Her father’s lack of sympathy did much to fortify her resolve to escape his control.
The chamber door closed on the king. His aged physician regarded her with watery, faded brown eyes. “I will be brief,” he said.
Suvari laid down upon the bed. She shut her eyes and willed her spirit to some far away place of rippling brooks and sunshine-dappled grass.
The next morning, Suvari stood at the window as the guards heralded the dawn.
“Morrow comes to Boor's Roost! Hail King Hygarre!”
She would never forgive him for putting her through what he had last night. And if she could, she would exact some form of revenge.
The thought hardly crossed her mind when a knock came at the door. Glynnis took her keys and opened the portal. A maid from below stairs stood on the landing.
“Get the princess ready. Hisself will soon come to fetch her.”
A terrible sinking sensation formed in the pit of Suvari’s stomach. Tradition ordained he come escort her to break her fast in indication he would not see her again before she wed.
“Surely the two bride months will be observed?” Suvari looked to Glynnis for some sign.
The nursemaid began laying out the fragile white morning dress created for the occasion. “It would seem not.”
Panic dug sharp claws into Suvari. She’d expected two months time to plan and act. “Perhaps he enacts this formality because he will not travel with me to my husband-to-be’s kingdom.”
“Haste,” Glynnis urged. “Milda, pour water for milady. Lay towels and scent.”
Suvari felt the close of the trap sure as a fox caught in a hunter’s snare.
The common hall still bore the festive garlands of ground pine and wild yellow roses from the previous night. Guests lined the trestle tables, which seemed to bow under the weight of serving platters.
All the most precious goods her father traded for lie present: lemons, oranges, figs, dates, saffron, cinnamon, cloves, fine wine, anise-scented oil for the hanging lamps, incense.
Suvari had heard whispers about the match her father made to secure a better route for his ships. How ironic the very luxuries impressing the guests made her sacrifice to matrimony necessary in the first place.
In that instant she resolved not to eat a bite.
Pages served quail stuffed with spiced bread and freshwater mussels, late season berries in cream, clove-studded pears and apples, delicate tarts and custards.
Milda, lifted the veil and secured it at nose level with the made-in tie, that Suvari might dine. She sat with her hands in her lap.
After what seemed forever, her sire stood, goblet in hand. The hall fell silent.
“Most welcome guests,” he began, booming voice resounding to the rafters, “my thanks for coming to celebrate the betrothal of my daughter, the Princess Suvari.”
A cheer went up, tankards pounded on tables.
Little wonder, she thought, most of the men likely stayed up the night’s length drinking.
“It is now with greatest pleasure, I announce the identity of my future son-by-marriage.”
Suvari closed her eyes. Her heart seemed to freeze.
“Torath, first-born prince, son of King Rathgorne Silvoore!”
A roar rose in the hall. Most of the men in attendance had vested interest in open commerce between the neighboring kingdoms. An alliance would make them richer.
Suvari became lightheaded at her father’s choice for her.
Torath Silvoore.
She’d met him only once and he’d made an impression. An arrogant, insensitive brute. Made further despicable by prideful paternal indulgence and a youth spent in lawless freedom.
Escape not only meant freedom, but survival. For surely submitting herself as Torath’s wife would kill her.
Suvari clenched her jaw. She’d made a promise to herself and her sister. By whatever means required, she’s fulfill it.
Her half-brothers Barloff and Adgoth came stand behind her bench.
“Rise,” Barloff ordered. “Return to your chamber.”
Suvari resented his autocratic tone. His obvious delight in using it even more. But, she wanted to withdraw, and so did with relief.
As she, Glynnis and Milda ascended the stairs, a great deal of noise drifted down. They reached the uppermost landing, Suvari saw many serving women packing her undergarments, gowns, nightrails, slippers, and jewelry.
They packed her clothes to send to Silvoore lands. Suvari’s hopes of selling the expensive garments plummeted. They’d arrive in the neighboring kingdom within a week.
She took a deep breath. It did not alter her intentions. Another method of obtaining money would present itself. Mayhaps even the seal - which she’d concealed in her riding stays - would make currency unnecessary.
“Leave my riding garments,” she commanded, striding into the chamber as though she’d ordered the entire operation. Suvari flipped back her veil. “If my departure is imminent, I will require my stays and boots as well.”
Glynnis sniffed in disapproval. But, set about locating the garments Suvari requested.
She strolled past the packing maids. When the moment presented itself, she snagged a purple diamond choker from a stack and palmed it.
Suvari stepped behind the privacy screen in the corner of the chamber. In the guise of answering nature’s call, she stuffed the necklace into the folds of a washing cloth.
She strolled back into view of her maids, picked up her riding clothes, returned to the secluded corner. Her hands shook.
Would they question her dressing herself?
Her heart thumped.
Had anyone seen her take the necklace?
Dread of discovery made her almost faint.
Did they suspect anything?
With the seal and choker digging into her breasts, Suvari emerged. Glynnis stood at the chamber door. Her eyes held a hint of sympathy.
“Come,” she bid, “you sire requests you below.”
Tanis waited by the stable. His horse, rested and ready, nudged at him. Turning to a nervous-looking page, he said, “See if Lady Suvari comes.”
The lad raced off, stumbled once as he ran.
It brought back a memory of Tanis’s youth. When the desire to please lent wings to heels. Whispering recollections of white marble halls and temple bells tolling on the morning breeze stirred in his mind.
He shut down his sentiments and soft emotions. Concentrated on the task at hand. If he didn’t deliver the princess, someone less capable of keeping her alive would try. He had nothing to concern himself with aside from doing the job.
“Bring me the other mount,” he commanded a stable boy. When the tall, strong gelding stood before him, Tanis checked the girth, and the mount’s hooves.
The war-king had said his farewells to Tanis earlier, told the servants to honor ‘the mercenary’s’ dictates as his own. Hygarre didn’t even wish to tell his daughter goodbye.
The murmur of conversation heralded his charge’s arrival. Stableboys, pages, and courtyard attendants parted as a veiled female form accompanied by many maids drew close.
Tanis anticipated a scene. His instincts warned him of the prime potential for fearful tears. “All of you, except the princess, go.”
Two dozen people milled in confusion.
He pitched his voice to carry. “Go!”
The maids jumped, gasped in surprise. Footmen who carried the princess’s baggage dropped it, bumped into one another in their haste to comply.
The courtyard cleared. Standing with the horses, he beckoned. “Let me see what you have under that shroud.”
The princess approached, tossed back her veil without hesitation.
Tanis’s breath arrested.
Bards could compose themselves nigh death in vain hopes of praising her beauty.
Glorious bright red hair streaked with gold crowned her head. A high creamy forehead sat above russet brows and large, black lash-framed golden-brown eyes. Molded cheekbones framed a small pert nose and lush red mouth. Below that, a pointed little chin and delicate jaw finished the glorious picture.
His mental faculties returned. Such beauty promised problems. Something in the set of her jaw even more so.
He exhaled a long breath. “I’ll earn every piece of your sire’s gold.”
Something flickered in her gaze. “I know you.”
The musical sweetness of her voice made his gut pull taut. “Aye.”
She narrowed her eyes. “The stairway. It was you.”
Tanis inclined his head. “I don’t want to know what brought you to the men’s guest quarters.” He held up a hand to prevent the words he saw coming. “I told no one. We will leave it at that.”
The princess glanced around. “Are you to escort me to Silvoore’s kingdom?” Her gaze dipped to his sword.
Tanis wondered if Hygarre wished her to know details. He decided if the war-king had preferences, he should have stayed to speak them. “I will take you north to the temple of the eunuch priests. We travel alone.”
Though it appeared she sought to conceal them, many emotions flickered across her face. He expected the lady to rail at the impropriety or inconvenience. At the very least ,weep for the loss of her maids.
Instead, his statement brought a curious gleam to her honey-hued eyes. “Let us get under way, then.”
Tanis looked at the half dozen bags clustered in the wood shavings of the stable yard. “I stipulated one small pack. What’s all this?”
The princess went to the rub the gelding’s nose. “I know not.”
He swore under his breath. Taking up the smallest one, he set about emptying the rest. He sifted for sturdy skirts, boots, warm wraps for night. However, he found himself up past his gloves in frilly frothy undergarments and gowns.
Tanis dropped to a squat, surveyed the scattered lace and silk. “I ask for serviceable. They give me useless.”
“Surely there is something that will do,” she replied blithely.
Leaving the mess, he strode to the corner of the stable and called for the boy who’d tended his stallion. “Grigg!”
The lad tumbled from his eavesdropping vantage in the straw loft. Bits of chafe poked out of his unruly blonde curls.
“Yessir!” He gawked for a moment at the sight of the lady’s uncovered face.
“Boy, hie to your mother.” Tanis reached inside his leather jack, withdrew a gold coin. “Take this to her and ask she send a skirt and blouse”
The boy’s eyes crossed over his freckled nose at extended the coin. “Fast as a frog on a hot stone!” he replied.
“There’s another at the end of it for you.”
Grigg took the money and sped on his errand.
“Sir, I-” the princess began from behind him.
Tanis turned, pitched his voice low. “I will hear no argument against your wearing a laundress’s clothes. She is a fine woman and unworthy your disdain.”
She blinked. “I welcome them.”
He recognized her sincerity. “What then?”
“I meant only to suggest we find a servant’s cloak for me as well. But, not from the boy’s mother. The weavers are refitting the loom. She could not replace hers for many weeks.”
Something like shame touched him. He’d judged her by her family’s example. “The village of Vindale is two days from here. Perhaps something can be found there.”
Moments passed. Tanis found himself studying her. When she moved from the docile gelding toward his stallion, he warned, “Don’t. He’s unused to ladies.”
She stopped. “I’ve never seen the like. Powerful, yet elegant. And so black to be almost blue.”
Tanis saw the boy coming, a bundle in his thin arms. “Grigg returns.”
Eyes alight, he skidded to a halt. “Did just what you told me, sir.”
“I see.” He took the garments. One plain gown, a blouse, skirt and warm stockings. He fished another gold piece from inside his jack, handed it to the boy. “You did well. Send your mama my thanks.”
The princess stood by the gelding. “We can go?”
Tanis packed the clothing in the small bag, retrieved a few intimate garments to include, and the little bundle of toiletries. Then he tied the bag behind her mount’s saddle. “We’re ready.”
He came to offer her a leg up.
A soft flush colored her cheeks. “I’ve never ridden astride, and I’d scarce seen twelve turns when last I sat a horse.”
“Put your left foot in my hand.” He held it low. “I’ll push you up. Grab some mane and swing your right leg over his back.”
She nodded and did just as he said. The princess settled in the saddle with an air of accomplishment. He put one of her feet, then the other in the stirrups.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
He gazed up at her. “My name is Tanis.”
She smiled. “Thank you again.”
“You are welcome.”
He swung onto his steed’s back and they rode toward the gate of Boor's Roost. She clung to the saddle, did little more than allow her mount to follow his.
As they approached the watch, she pulled down her veil. The guards lifted the portcullis.
The way north lie behind the wall’s of Hygarre’s castle. Tanis turned his stallion to begin the journey. Careful of his charge’s inexperience, he kept the pace sedate as they crossed the meadow.
A soft laugh made him glance behind.
The princess’s veil drifted to the tall grass. An expression of pure joyance transformed her face from beautiful to exquisite.
His preconception of towing along a tearful terrified girl vanished.
Replaced by an entirely different set of troubles.
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Kourtesan
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Re: The King's Right
CHAPTER FOUR
Many Lessons
Suvari could not believe her luck.
Her sire’s plan landed her in the position she most desired. Alone, on her way to freedom. To the Temple of Lalunah.
With the mercenary as escort.
The diamond choker and seal cut into her breasts within her riding stays. A reminder she possessed the means to pay and change his plans.
Given what she’d learned over the years, the temple of the eunuch priests and that of the virgin priestesses lie in the same general area. A man’s retainer would doubtless serve to insure his behavior and efficiency best. So she would wait before she paid to gain his allegiance.
For now, she had only to savor the scenery and sunshine.
And freedom.
Suvari peeked at the mercenary. He rode almost abreast of her. His black garments seemed a bit sinister. Especially the high boots, leather jack and full length coat. A quiver of arrows and a strangely-formed bow crossed his broad back from shoulder to narrow waist. A long lethal sword hung in an angle there. The hilt of a dagger peeked from his boot.
Here and there, various weaponry hung from the horse’s tack or his small packs.
Certainly looks the part.
She noted his jet black hair. Shorter in the front, it flowed in long wavy layers to brush his wide shoulders.
The memory of his ice-pale eyes returned in an uncomfortable rush. In the swarthy, harsh planes of his face, they were startling in their light blue-green color. Sharp, clear, intent.
Suvari realized her horse followed his. So, she just gripped the reins in one hand, the saddle bow in the other and tried to absorb the moment. She tilted back her head and stared at the blue sky.
“Watch where you go, princess.”
His deep voice made her look at him. The mercenary had slowed.
She replied, “I have no real idea how to control this horse. He chivies yours anyway. What’s the point?”
He halted. Her mount slid to a stop. Suvari pitched forward onto the horse’s neck.
Her escort prevented her from falling, righted her in the saddle. “Don’t argue with me.”
Her near-tumble barely registered before they resumed the pace. Realization dawned. The knave thought to discipline her. Establish who held the power. She bristled. But, resolved to hold her tongue.
After all, the glorious day and increasing distance from her sire’s castle provided infinite reason for delight.
Every muscle in her body burned from exhaustion.
Suvari clenched her jaw. Every time the horse’s hooves struck ground, the impact jarred up through her body. They’d ridden for maybe five hours. Across flower-spangled meadows, shallow brooks, past cottages, cabins, farms, orchards and many fields of grain. Though the scenery had fascinated her at first, fatigue and pain prevented her from enjoying it further.
She’d also had her first experience with tending the call of nature outdoors.
“There’s a little river about an hour from here,” her escort told her. “We’ll stop to water the horses and lunch.”
She could only nod and clutch the saddle bow for support as they galloped up the swell of a hill. Determined not to slow their progress or complain, she tried to put her mind in another place.
At last, the mercenary slowed. Her horse bounced to a stop alongside his. The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth.
She’d bitten her lip to keep from crying out.
Suvari forced her aching limbs to reverse the process of mounting. Her legs seemed to have turned to jelly during the ride. They gave as soon as her feet touched ground.
Strong arms caught her. He swore in some foreign language. Then spoke in hers. “You little fool. Why didn’t you ask to stop sooner?”
She said nothing as he carried her to the shaded bank of the little river. He knelt, placed her with obvious care.
“Thank you,” she whispered. It amazed her the ride had reduced her to such a state. “I said nothing because I did not want to slow progress.”
“You aren’t fit to ride until morning, now.” He stood over her, a towering figure backlit by the sun. “Silence served no purpose.”
She wanted to weep for her physical weakness and ignorance. Tears prickled her lids.
He walked away, returned with a skin of water. “Sip it slowly.”
Suvari, fought back the threat of tears, did as he told her. She watched him loosen the saddles and lead the horses to drink. When they finished, he hobbled them and removed their bridles. After that he fed them a few handfuls of grain from one of his packs.
He doffed his overcoat, put it in his saddle bag, rolled back his sleeves and went to kneel at the water’s edge to wash. His brisk efficiency made her all the more aware of her inferior capabilities.
“I’ll get better,” she promised, to herself as much as her escort. “I’ll toughen up and learn whatever you’ll teach me.”
He shot her a brief glance, then took a small bundle from his horse. Carrying it to her, he offered, “Bread and cheese. While we remain inside the bounds of your sire’s kingdom, I will make a fire at night. After we’ve traveled beyond, it won’t be wise.”
Suvari accepted the food, though doubted she could eat. “Thank you.”
“Have a little,” he advised. “Even if you aren’t hungry.”
For a long while, she sat nibbling the nutbread and cheese, sipping water and observing him. He fastened something at the end of a line, tied the other to a small tree near the water, and tossed the free bit into the river. Then he went about gathering leaves, bark and moss, building a fire, putting a little pot from his bags on it to boil water.
Curiosity got the best of her. “What are you doing.”
He stirred the strips of bark in the water, then returned to mixing some paste on a stone.
“Making a few things for you.”
He brought a small metal cup filled with the water from the fire. “Be careful, it’s hot.”
She used the hem of her cloak between her hands and the mug. “What am I drinking?”
“Willow bark tea.” He returned to scoop some of the paste. “It’s good for pain.”
She tasted the tea, grimaced, but resolved to finish. Eyeing the milky-looking substance on his fingers, she asked, “What in the name of the Gods have you there?”
“Juice from a fairy glove plant, some of climber moss, silver oak sap, and water.”
Suvari leaned back as he made to dab it on her face. “It smells terrible.”
“That will fade,” he replied, seeming patient but determined. “Your skin has pinked in the sun. This will heal it.”
She allowed him to smooth it over her face. With his hands so close, she couldn’t help notice their beauty. Long-fingered and elegant, yet also tanned and powerful. Gentle, too. A jagged scar crossed the first two knuckles of his left. The nails seemed incredibly clean and tended for a man like him.
Then again, what knew she of mercenaries?
He finished, stood and moved back to the horses. Returning with his coat, he set it beside her. In what felt like only a few moments he’d walked a bit from her, cut big fern fronds, came back to lace them into a little bed, and spread his garment over it.
“Finish the tea and rest, Princess. Providing my lures entice the locals, we’ll have fish for dinner.”
Suvari managed the bitter brew. She set the cup in the grass and stretched out.
I’ll just shut my eyes for a moment.
The sounds of the water and the strain of the exercise had the last word.
Tanis found a late season bramble of blackberries a stone’s throw upriver. He cut pepper greens, accumulated a string of four shiny trout. After he cleaned them, he stuffed them with greens, rubbed the white flesh with some salt from his pack, then wrapped them in big sugar beech leaves. On the stones at the fire’s edge, they’d cook well.
He rinsed the cook pot, put in some dry goods and spices from his store. A stray apple tree provided a treat for the horses, and he made a poultice and wrapped the gelding’s legs with it and strips of cloth. He’d begun to show the same wear as his rider.
By morning, both should feel better.
Tanis had to admire the lady’s grit. He’d expected trouble. Her life and the strictures on it guaranteed complications until she adjusted. This first day he decided would show her, and he, her limitations.
Instead she’d turned it into a display of stubborness.
He glanced at her asleep on the mat. In truth, he wondered at the steel in her. With a sire whose reputation teetered upon assuming the label of bully, brothers who displayed characteristics similar, she seemed an aberration of heredity.
Good. That would help them both.
As the sun began to lower, he knelt by her. “Princess.”
“Glynnis, I beg a few moments.”
Tanis gave her a little shake. “Wake, the hour grows late.”
Her huge eyes opened. His pulse tripped. Their color echoed the rare shade of the gold oaks’ autumn leaves. The trees grew only in the orchards and gardens of his long-ago home.
She sat upright. Her hair tumbled from its thick coil, spilled down her back and pooled upon his coat. “That tea is like the dream god’s touch.”
Tanis willed his wits to gather. “Better. With willow bark come few dreams.” He offered his hand, tugged her to her feet when she accepted.
She winced as she stood. “I thought climbing the tower stair so often would have me in better condition.”
“Each activity develops different strengths.” He released her small, soft hand. “Walk a bit to ease the stiffness. Our meal will be ready soon.”
He busied himself to that end. When he ran out of supper chores, he rechecked the tack he’d taken off the horses, gave them a little more attention.
“Your horse is so beautiful. Do you have a name for it?”
He realized she couldn’t tell a male from a female. Recalling her earlier declaration about learning, Tanis replied, “A stallion’s anatomy is displayed under his belly. To answer your question, his name is Valor.”
From the corner of his eye he glimpsed her bending to have a look. A startled little, “Oh,” told him she’d grasped the lesson.
“The meal’s ready.”
Trout, barley stew and berries made a filling repast. She consumed the food with genuine appetite.
“You wash,” he told her when they’d finished their meal. “Until you can cook, you clean.”
Awkward at first, then with more skill, she washed their plates, cups, the pot and then her hands.
Tanis’s respect for her grew. Still, his instincts warned him the Princess Suvari would yet fulfill his premonitions of trouble.
Last edited by Kourtesan, 2/15/2009, 5:05 am
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Kourtesan
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Re: The King's Right
CHAPTER FIVE
Vindale and Effects of Beer
For Suvari, the next day and a half passed in a haze of discomfort, weariness, and most of all education. They arrived in the thriving village of Vindale just after noon.
Many people walked in the cobble streets. Women carried baskets of clean, folded laundry, fresh vegetables or bread. Children frolicked and laughed, pulled wooden toys or rolled hoops. Men drove teams of shaggy-maned horses hooked to wagons filled with grain or barrels.
The aromas of baking bread, fresh straw and something that reminded her of the drink her father favored hung heavy in the air.
“The town’s famous for its beer.” Tanis lead the way to a well-tended building. The scents of meat and bread made her mouth water. “We’ll pick up a little, buy you a cloak, then be on our way.”
Two brown-haired, blue-eyed boys grappled and tumbled in their eagerness to greet them. Their clothes clean and well-mended, seemed much better quality than the lads in of Boor's Roost. The cuffs of their trousers bore little dangling charms in the shape of Dyonine’s - the fermentation god - symbol.
“Welcome to Vindale, good people.”
The second boy elbowed the first for position. “For a coin I’ll take your horses to the stable and get your bags to a room.”
“We do not stay,” Tanis replied, dismounted.
The boys eyes bulged as they viewed the mercenary’s array of weapons. “Are you a soldier in War-King Hygarre’s army?” one asked.
“I but visited.”
Their eyes turned to her. Dressed in the simple servant’s dress, she seemed to hold little interest.
Tanis took out a small gold piece for each of them. “We’ll need a small jug of the best beer, a meal for two packed to travel, and the name of a seamstress.”
“Aunt Jinnee can make anything,” the other boy said. “Her place is down the street under the red and blue sign.”
Her escort nodded. “Bring the rest there.”
The boys raced into the establishment. Tanis came to catch her waist in his big hands. “Down from there, princess.”
Suvari noted a place under the laced neckline of his black shirt where it appeared he wore something. A necklace or talisman, mayhaps.
Despite her aches and pains, she welcomed the walk. It helped ease the pangs in her calves. Outside the little shop, they tied the horses. Tanis handed her a piece of stiff leather marked with her father’s seal and a number.
“You’ll need more warm stockings. She’ll likely have them made. Perhaps even the cloak.”
Suvari realized he meant to send her into the shop. A sharp mixture of disbelief and anticipation hit her. “Is it safe for me to go alone?”
“Far safer than the little walk you took in the men’s wing.”
Suvari blushed. “Very well.”
The inside of the shop smelled of cloth and tallow candles. A trim woman of maybe thirty season turns emerged from behind several tall bolts. She smiled, stuck the big spool of thread she held into the pocket of her skirt.
“Hello there, I’m Jinnee. How can I help you?”
Suvari hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. “I’m traveling and I need a few things. Warm stockings and a cloak.”
“I have two cloaks ready to the point of hemming. But they are too warm for days.”
She considered how cool the evenings and nights already had become. “Could I see them?”
“A moment, please.”
Suvari fought the urge to go peek out the wavy panes of the window. For the first time, she entertained the thought he might have taken her sire’s money with no intention of keeping his end of the bargain.
What if he’s already left me? Could I find someone here to guide me north?
Though they dug into her incessantly, a reminder she possessed means, the copper seal and diamond choker she’d brought from Boor's Roost gave little comfort at the moment.
The proprietress returned from a back room. In her arms she carried two folded articles. “I made these to keep for travelers. Our climate here often comes as a surprise.” She set them atop a trio of short bolts.
Suvari touched the sturdy, though soft material, one deep green, the other brown. Her ignorance made her reluctant, but she screwed up her courage.
“They will make the evenings more pleasant.” Suvari presented the item her escort gave her. “I’ll take them and a few pairs of stockings.”
The woman blinked at the piece. Her eyes turned suspicious. “I cannot make change for this.”
Suvari tried to calculate a correct response. “Jinnee, I have great need of these things, and little room for what luxuries this might buy.”
Jinnee relaxed. She smiled. “Let us see how they wear.”
She emerged from the shop with her bundle. A sense of accomplishment sizzled in her blood. And relief, when she saw her escort standing with the horses.
Thick black lashes framed his blue-green eyes, set off their paleness in his dark face. “Success?”
She didn’t want to let him see her thrill at having completed her first commerce exchange. Not to mention relief he remained. “Aye.”
Tanis patted a sack tied on his stallion. “Our dinner tonight. Afterward, you can bathe.”
Suvari had grown accustomed to naught but the dried fruit and nut mix he carried for breaking the morning fast, midday meal of greens and berries with some cheese. In the evening, he built a blaze and caught fish from the river they followed.
And she’d only washed off since leaving the castle.
She anticipated the veritable feast and bath with relish. Mimicking him, she said, “Let us cover miles in the hours until then.”
They stopped at a bend in the river. After his calling it small, and seeing this boulder-strewn expanse, Suvari became curious. “How big is the river south of my father’s? The NePetrah?”
Her escort glanced at the splashing rapids and the falls. “About three times so large.”
Stunned, she attempted to grasp the concept. “This river keeps getting bigger. Do you mean so much larger as this? Or the river at its widest at the north coast?”
The mercenary settled that pale gaze on her. “Your hunger for knowledge grows.”
Suvari enjoyed a surge of accomplishment as she managed to loosen the girth of her gelding’s saddle. “My life deprived me.”
“This river has a name. Given in the north.”
“And is it as large there as the NaPetrah?”
“Not quite. It’s name is Kyaleah.”
“How lovely.” Satisfied, she helped him to take care of the horses and make camp.
The mercenary settled the mounts. She sat on the grassy bank, listened to the snap and crackle of their evening fire, tumbling water and enjoyed the view. He brought the packed food, poured them each a mug of beer, and laid the meal.
The roasted game hen with spiced stuffing, meat pies, baked pears and blackberry cobbler all tasted delicious. Yet the beer topped all. Society rules did not permit ladies to partake fermented beverages. She’d never tasted it’s like. The nutty, grainy flavor and bubbly nature made magic.
Her escort rose, went to give their mounts grain.
Suvari helped herself to seconds of the beer.
Sunset streaked the sky shades of red and gold, stained the trees black. Their towering silhouettes linked the heavens to ground.
She gazed into the fire.
When he returned, she looked up and caught her breath.
All along she had looked at him, yet not seen. The flames cast hollows under his high cheekbones. Flickered in his aquamarine eyes.
Suvari noted the intelligent height of his forehead, the jet straight brows, inky lashes. A little crescent scar sat at the corner of the left brow. His straight nose possessed a subtle bump along the bridge. Evidence of its once break. Testament to his dangerous vocation.
Her gaze snagged upon his mouth. Did many men have such lips? Wide - the lower one fuller - framed with long deep dimples.
An unfamiliar emotion shimmered through her.
He must have sensed her gaze upon him. Those pale unreadable eyes met hers.
Something arced between them.
Suvari became very aware of their isolation. Her belly fluttered as though many butterflies flapped their velvet wings. A curious flush heated her cheeks.
The flames reflected in his icy gaze. She felt caught. Captured. Suddenly he seemed so very large and masculine it frightened her.
Her gaze moved down to where she’d seen a lump under his shirt. He wore something under it. What?
The mystery surrounding him added something. She didn’t understand the emotions simmering in herself enough to realize what.
“I’ll prepare your bath, princess.”
His words broke the unnerving tension. He rose and left before she had time to respond.
Tanis swore to himself in the mountain tongue, switched to Link, then explored the variety offered in his native language of Etanian. All failed to erase the carnal bent of his mind and the hum of arousal still sharp in his blood.
He believed his charge ignorant of the sensuality she conjured. The innocent awe in her expression told him so. Little wonder. Locked away most of her life, and with an appetite for knowledge and exploration, it had been only a matter of time before she pioneered that avenue.
Fixating himself on the task of creating a makeshift tub, he began.
Fallen water willows dotted the terrain. He found a suitable specimen and dragged it close to the fire. Careful not to look at her, he set about hacking out the interior with his utility hatchet. On impulse, he angled one end more. It consumed time. But, created a slant where she might recline.
Though unrefined, the project sat ready within an hour’s half. He scrubbed the inside with handfuls of river sand and pebbles, rinsed it several times.
He had a pot of water boiling and five huge clean stones heating in the fire. Two skins of water from the river, made warm by two rocks, then the water from the pot made it ready. He removed the rocks, placed them back in the fire to heat again.
Tanis draped blankets and his coat over low limbs between two trees to make a changing room next to it. Then placed one of her cloaks on the grass beside the tub.
“All right, princess.”
He took a seat on a wide stump, put his back to her. The sounds of rustling fabric and branches preceded a little splash and a captivating feminine sigh of pleasure.
Tanis closed his eyes for a moment, disciplined his wayward mind. After a bit, he stood. “Take the cloak from the ground. Drape it over you.”
Water sloshed. “I’ve done it.”
Tanis still kept his gaze from her as he grabbed an extra piece of leather from his packs. He kept them for tack repairs. Tonight he’d use it to carry hot stones.
“I will bring a rock from the fire to reheat your bath,” he explained. “Tuck your legs and pull the cloak back from that end.”
“I’m ready.”
Tanis used a piece of wood as a lever, put the hot stone in the leather sling and carried it to her ‘tub’. He concentrated on lowering it in, loosing the leather, then turned away.
He got himself a mug of water and returned to the stump. Time dragged its feet as a wayward child will when called to supper. He concentrated on the noise of the river and forest.
“Will you want the stone replaced and the water heated?” he asked.
“My thanks, but no.”
He heard her rise and step from the improvised tub. After a few moments, she said, ”I’m covered.”
Tanis rose and turned. His belly pulled taut in sudden sexual hunger. She wore one of the simple gowns. The glorious length of her wet hair hung in a dark curtain.
She seemed oblivious to the inviting picture she presented as she went to sit by the fire. Leaning toward the low fire, she spread her locks. The flames caught the skeins of gold.
“Thank you so much for the bath.” She sounded sleepy.
“By this time tomorrow we’ll reach the border of your father’s lands.” He turned over the hollowed log, dumped the water down the river bank. “No more fire.”
She held the majority of her hair in her lap, as she rotated smaller portions in the drying process. “I understand.”
He observed the effort her activity required, realized she might intend to finish before turning in for the night. Going to stand beside her, he prepared himself for a barrage of arousal. “Let me help you, princess.”
She looked up at him. Her expression showed indecision. “I can manage.”
Given the extent of torture he’d agreed to when he offered, his temper frayed. “I’ve tended your bath. Why not your hair?”
For a moment she studied him with those golden-brown eyes. Something in the potency of her gaze raised the hair of his nape. “I welcome your aid.” She paused. “Tanis.”
For the first time he heard his name on her lips.
It compounded his unwelcome, growing desire.
And by this time on the morrow, they would reach perilous country.
His instincts had not warned in vain.
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Kourtesan
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Re: The King's Right
CHAPTER SIX
Warriors of Kahal
Suvari’s heart pounded like a troubadour’s drum.
They’d ridden through the day. Ignoring her aches and pains, she’d kept pace. Minutes ago, her escort ordered her to stop and dismount.
Now they laid in a ditch, horses behind them.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“Warriors of Kahal.”
“Kahal?”
Her escort hugged her close to his body. He shook his head.
Suvari heard a branch break, then male voices speaking in a guttural language. Through the trees she saw men dressed in ragged matted furs. They moved more like animals than men. Red and yellow paint smeared their faces. Amulets on thick chains circled their muscular necks.
Fear shot through her like lightning. Part of her wished to bury her face against her escort’s wide chest. Still, she continued to watch them until they’d past from sight.
After what seemed like hours, the mercenary whispered, “Don’t move.”
He rose and melted away into the forest. Suvari’s pulse tripped at every sound. Her breath came shallow and fast. A scream lodged in her throat as her escort suddenly reappeared at her side.
He caught her arm, hauled her upright, and all but tossed her onto her horse. His pale eyes bore into hers. “Stay close.”
Breathless and charged with fear, she nodded.
He lead through the towering trees, down a rocky hill to travel in a boulder-strewn ravine. The rough terrain further unnerved her. Once he halted, held up his hand for quiet. She strained to hear whatever he listened for. To no avail.
He glanced back at her, held out his gloved hand. She rode close enough to grasp it. An instant sense of security flooded her. Leaning close, he said softly, “We will take the way of caution, and ride along this ravine for a while.”
Suvari nodded.
The sun had dipped low toward the horizon when at last they emerged from the ravine.
“Those men have come farther south than your sire knows.”
She waited for him to dismount as they stopped. As had become the custom, he came to help her down. “Who were they?” she asked, went into his hands.
“Killers in the name of their goddess.“ He released her waist, reached to pluck something from her hair. Tossing aside the leaf, he stepped back. “Are you hungry?”
“Starved.”
“Take the saddle off the gelding, then sit.”
It pleased her she’d mastered the task. When she finished, it pleased her more to sit on the pine needle-strewn ground and rest. In a remarkably short amount of time, her escort produced a plate filled with dried venison, cheese and some unfamiliar small fruits.
She picked up one, examined its yellow-orange color and velvety skin. “I’ve never seen these before.”
“Dwarf woodland peaches. They grow all over this territory.”
Suvari bit into the little thing. Its skin gave with a pop. Succulent soft flesh beneath tasted at once tart and sweet. “Delicious.”
“I favor them myself.”
Later, when it came time for sleep, her escort began lacing pine boughs between the wide limbs of a tall tree, about twice the length of a man above the ground. She stared up at him, amazed at the ease with which he walked along branches and moved among them. “What are you doing?”
“We sleep up here tonight.”
She wanted to refuse. Heights never pleased her. The memory of the terrifying men remained fresh. “I don’t know if I can take rest so far above the ground.”
A deep husky chuckle floated down to her. It drifted over her, through her clothing to caress her skin. A startling warmth pooled in her belly.
Fascinated by the effect, she savored the sensations. He dropped to the ground, landed with catlike ease. “I’ll carry you up once you’ve readied yourself.”
Suvari tended the necessaries and attempted to brush her hair. He took the brush from her, made fast work of the chore, then braided and tied it with a strip of leather.
Amazed, she tucked the brush into her bag. “You are a man of many skills.”
“I am a man in a line of work which demands it.”
He hoisted the tack and packs in a nearby tree, hobbled the gelding, then turned to her. “Come here.”
Suvari hesitated. “My courage fails me.”
“This from a woman who risked a beating to wander a portion of castle forbidden her?”
And from a woman who intends to defy her father and brothers to save herself and sister.
She approached him. He warned, “I must put you across my shoulder.”
Before she could reply, he did so. She gave a little prayer of thanks it had grown too dark for her to see.
The bed he’d fashioned proved quite comfortable. Far more hospitable than lying on the ground. She settled into her side. He covered her, stretched out beside.
Visions of the strange wild men returned. “Tanis?”
“Aye?”
“Did you know those warriors?”
“No. But, I expected them. Your father hired a scout sometime back to authenticate reports of them.”
“You gave a name.” Her mind churned to produce it. “Ka-something.” A night songbird trilled.
“K-a-h-a-l. Ancient goddess of death and destruction.”
“Why are they here?”
“They live to plunder and kill in their deity’s name.” He seemed to sense her fear. “They are ruthless and aggressive, though not often clever. Unless we run into more than a few scouts, we shall have no problems.”
Sounds of the forest had become familiar to her. The chorus of frogs, crickets and nocturnal birds created soothing music.
His warmth provided added comfort.
Suvari closed her eyes and slept.
Tanis saw evidence of the Kahal horde for two days. On the third, they encountered a group of about thirty. He loosed the horses, carried her high in a grandfather oak. The warriors passed below. A stench of unwashed flesh, rancid, untanned hides and old blood rose from them.
In his arms, the princess trembled.
He tightened his hold, attempted to rub the tension from her rigid spine. Tears or a faint they could ill afford.
After a while, he put her over his shoulder and climbed down.
Valor had taken the gelding over the next rise. Both horses waited under a cluster of conifers. Suvari did not speak as they remounted and rode north.
But later, as the sun dropped low, and a glow remained above the trees to the west. “What is that?” she asked.
Tanis did want to speak his suspicions. “We might soon see.”
Kahal followers bore the infamous label of cannibal. Stories related the horror of the terrible feasts they held after battle. Raucous celebrations where captive enemies suffered torture and torment to provide entertainment. Then became scarifies to honor Kahal and feed the horde.
The drums reached them first. Then the screams.
Suvari startled so violently, the docile gelding half-reared. She managed to keep her seat. “What in the name of the Gods?”
Between his knees Valor tensed. The stallion’s ears went stiff and straight as he stared in the direction from which the noises came.
“I know a hunters’ box an hour’s ride from here. Can you make it, princess?” It wouldn’t host hunters until the white dear rut season began in a few months.
In the growing darkness, her eyes flashed with fear. “It’s those men, isn’t it.”
“I would make it my guess.” He slowed to bring her abreast. “I need you to be strong.”
She nodded. “I will make the ride.”
He kept her close, mindful of her lack of expertise despite the past days of intense experience. Not only did her skills as a rider lack, the gelding often hesitated in the dark.
The thunder of the drums grew. Soon the gelding - of far inferior blood than Valor - became so skittish and unreliable it forced Tanis to make a decision.
He halted his stallion and dismounted. Grasping the other horse’s bridle. “We will transfer all the packs to him. You will ride behind me.”
“Very well.”
Within moments he saw fright made her clumsy. He caught one of her shaking hands. “Collect your wits. I will do this.”
Tanis worked quickly. He made certain to leave his arms and a few necessitates on Valor. If the gelding bolted, he wouldn’t find himself in more dire straits.
Task complete, he took the gelding’s reins. “I’ll give you a leg up.”
At the stallion’s side, she hesitated. “You warned before about him.”
“He must learn.” He boosted her astride, swung up behind. With arm around her to guide Valor and support his charge, the other to tow the increasingly terrified gelding, he rode.
The noises faded as they traveled. When he brought them into the little yard of the old hunters’ lodge, Tanis felt a sigh go through the princess.
He dismounted, helped her down. Taking the tinderbox from his belt, he pressed it into her hand. “Visitors leave candles inside. You may light one. No more.”
She glanced up at him. “Will you come in soon?”
“I must see to the horses. Go.”
“What if one of those ... things lies in wait?”
He pointed to the emblem of Rhomedes, the hunter god, carved in the wood above the door. “They will avoid contact with ground sanctified to any but their goddess.”
With obvious reluctance she obeyed.
Tanis put their mounts in the canvas draped lean-to next to the cabin. He removed tack, though left packs fastened in place in case of an emergency departure. Both horses received a rubdown, hoof check, and then a few handfuls of grain and an apple.
From the bags, he brought blankets, a cup, dried venison and the last of the cheese and beer.
He opened the door saying, “Me, princess.”
She sat on the floor, the candle on the floor in front of her. Her braid had come partially undone. Something, most likely a branch, had scratched her cheek.
Tanis closed the door, latched it. He set the food on the edge of the stone hearth, placed the candle near it. His shoulders ached from the effort of controlling two horses and supporting her. He flexed them a few times, dropped to his haunches behind her.
“You did well.” Tanis finished taking down her hair, combed its silky mass with his fingers. When he’d removed the tangles, he braided it, secured the end. “Are you cold?”
“We’re past those creatures?”
Fatigue made his eyes feel gritty. He’d done no more than nap since they passed Vindale. “Possibly.”
“I never knew such things existed.”
Tanis rose, brought her a blanket and a cup of beer. He handed her the cup, wrapped the cover about her. “Drink that. It’ll help your nerves settle.”
“My stomach feels strange.”
“Sip the beer.”
He left her long enough to make certain the bed in the corner proved clean. Traveler’s rules dictated certain courtesies. Though not all observed. The same set of linens that sat folded on the bed when he’d past through several months ago still remained.
Tanis brought her the rest of the cheese. “This as well, princess.”
“I cannot.”
He swiped a hand over his face. “Do as I tell you.”
“Were I not so weary, I’d slap you.”
Her response encouraged him. “Eat then, to recover. You may assault me later.”
He took a seat in a wooden chair by the hearth. By the single flickering flame, he studied his charge. Violet shadows lie under her eyes. The scratch to her cheek made him wonder if it would leave a scar.
Bit at a time, the beer and cheese disappeared. He rose, took the cup to put by the jug and pulled her to her feet.
Tanis made the bed. The princess began to crawl in with her boots on.
“A moment.” He pushed back her skirts and removed the boots. After she lie down, he covered her with their blanket as well. “Sleep well, princess.”
The beer did its work. She slipped to slumber almost at once.
Tanis put out the candle. He could move with ease in the dark. For a while he listened to the sounds of the night and checked the shutters.
Finally, he unlocked the door and slipped outside. A swift quiet search behind the hunting box yielded a patch of ravengrass, a dark shiny weed, known for its topical healing properties. He cut some, bruised it in his hand until the juices made it sticky.
Inside, he relocked the door and carried the pulp to press over the scratch on the princess’s velvety cheek. It would crumble away as it dried. And by morning, the chance of scarring would have reduced.
She whimpered in her sleep.
Tanis wiped his hands, ate a little venison, then saw to his ablutions before he laid down in the bed beside her.
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2/14/2009, 10:57 am
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Kourtesan
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Re: The King's Right
CHAPTER SEVEN
Hidden Talents
“I would know something of the area to which we travel.” Suvari looked over at the mercenary as they rode along the river.
Since departing from the hunters’ box, they’d scarce slowed. The day had aged, yet they continued to ride. Only necessity stops halted progress.
Her escort had shed his coat, strapped it behind him. He’d also loosened the laces of his shirt. A wedge of dark chest showed between the cords. For the first time, she got a clear look at what she’d seen making a bump beneath the fabric.
It was a small leather pouch.
“What would you know?” he asked after a moment.
“Where is the Temple of the eunuch priests located?”
“On the west coast, on a peninsula that juts into the Sea of Etania.”
She considered that for a moment. “Etania. Sort of like your name? Tanis?”
He shot her an enigmatic look. “Yes.”
“And where is the counterpart? The Temple of the virgin priestesses who serve Lalunah?”
“Far to the east, on what is called The Pearl Shore.”
Suvari’s stomach fell nigh to her feet. She’d thought to perhaps escape on her own, flee to the priestesses. After the past few terrifying days, her perceptions had changed.
She must have protection and guidance in these dangerous climes.
Her doubts about him had vanished, replaced by a trust she’d invested in no other.
If possible, she wanted him.
However, the very traits that made him trustworthy, might also make it difficult to convince him to change plans.
“What simmers in that head of yours, princess?”
A guilty flush heated her cheeks. “No more than customary.”
“Society ladies of fashion are consumed with little else besides their beauty.”
“I am sure such beliefs offer men comfort.”
His chuckle brought a smile to her lips. For a space she savored the wash of pleasure that accompanied it.
Though she still suffered many aches and pains, her body adjusted daily to the demands travel made upon it. A sense of pride in her accomplishment came with her newly discovered muscles.
The approach of autumn became more evident every day. Even in mid-summer the evenings and nights turned cool. This time of year, the temperature started to drop as soon as the sun did.
She pulled her cloak tighter about her.
“Do you need my coat?”
Suvari considered him for a moment. “I find your behavior toward females most unique.”
“Are you cold, princess, or not?”
“I want to know from where you hail. You are much removed from the men I’ve known.”
He did not reply.
Suvari decided she should know as much of him as possible. It would help her choose the best way to convince him to aid her. “What stays your tongue? Have you some dark secret?”
He reached out, caught the gelding’s bridle and brought both horses to a halt.
His pale eyes held hers in a cold embrace. “My past is none of your concern. Clear?”
A little skitter of alarm lifted the hair of her nape. But, she would not succeed in her plan with giving in to such. “My life rests in your hands. Your past is very much my concern.”
“We’re finished with this discussion.” His voice lowered to a dangerous hush.
“I will not be bullied,” she returned, anger growing in her as well. “Never again.”
Those icy-hot eyes narrowed. “Think you Torath will prove a biddable spouse?”
Suvari realized she’d revealed too much. “You seek to change the subject.” She assumed what she hoped a regal, unruffled expression. “Tell me of your home, your family.”
The jet stubble that darkened his implacable jaw added a formidable, wolfish air to his already intimidating appearance. With the deep hue of his skin and glossy onyx hair, he seemed more predator of the forest than man.
The mercenary spoke to his horse, tugged the gelding along. “I expect advance patrols. Outposts. We must reach the river by nightfall.”
Her horse disregarded her tug on the reins, followed the mercenary’s lead.
Suvari refused to let him handle her as he did the animals. She gave the gelding his head to follow, but resolved to have the matter out. “I will not let this pass. I -”
Her words died as something whizzed past her ear and struck a tree.
Her escort dragged her across the saddle before him. It happened too quick for protest. Something like lightning sang in her blood. Her breasts and belly bounced against his hard thighs. The ground rushed by in a blur.
She heard another whizzing sound. The mercenary spoke to the stallion in the foreign tongue she’d heard him use before. One of his big hands covered the back of her head.
Suvari thought of the horrible men-creatures in the matted filthy furs. Did they fire arrows? She closed her eyes and wished she and her escort might not be seen.
She sent her spirit somewhere safe, trusted the mercenary to preserve her body.
Tanis could not understand how the archers at the end of clearing missed them.
He’d assessed the risks and braved their arrows to take the horses through a gap in their forces. Every moment he anticipated a hit. Either to himself or the mounts. Yet they cleared the opening and galloped away without apparent attack or pursuit.
The men were outposts, a patrol, he believed. Tanis sensed them, gambled on passing undetected. However, his charge’s little fit of pique had ruined that.
As they raced through the huge trees, he marveled at their luck.
Although he felt certain none followed, Tanis put a good deal of distance between them and the warriors. He stopped long enough to mount the princess back on the gelding, then continued.
As dusk deepened, the glow of many fires loomed in the west.
The sound of drums reached them.
Tanis put her back on with him, held her as she trembled. They’d not gone far when he noted signs of a larger contingent’s passage. He leaned low. Disgust and fury swept him.
“What is it?” she asked, subdued, fright in every word.
“Nothing,” he lied, straightened. The warriors of Kahal had taken hostages with small feet. Women or children. Mayhaps both.
“Tell me. I recognize an untruth on your lips.”
Amid his flurry of decision making and outrage, his respect for her raised yet another notch. He held her tighter. Conscious of the preciousness of his cargo.
“A bigger group traveled this way. With captives.”
She shivered. “We must help them.”
He swore violently in Etanian. “I cannot risk you.”
Behind them, the gelding stumbled. Valor’s ears flickered. The stallion maintained his stride, powerful, tireless.
The princess half-turned in his arm. “No one deserves abandonment to those things.”
Tanis reined in Valor. The nervous gelding halted as well. “I am sworn to protect and deliver you.”
“I am terrified by those creatures. All my being cries for flight. But, how must those poor people feel?”
Too much.
A calm settled over him as he reached a decision. “You must do exactly as I say. Lives depend upon it.”
“I will, I swear.”
Tanis turned the horses and rode toward the sound of drums.
Toward danger.
Suvari lay on her stomach, gazing through the trees at the hideous, horrifying scene.
The warriors dragged their bloody captives toward a bonfire. A massive spit already turned above it. A bent man, dressed in rough robes and many beads and bracelets stirred a vat of some liquid.
As the revolting man-animals dragged the prisoners forward, the stooped man cut away their clothes and used the large spoon he’d had in his hand to douse them with the brew.
At this distance, and with the light behind them, Suvari could only see the smallness of the captives.
A sneering warrior gathered the slashed garments, held them aloft like trophies.
Something winked on them.
The warrior trotted around waving them, yelling in their guttural language, eliciting shouts of encouragement from his comrades. As he circled outside the firelight, he came closer.
Her entire body became rigid then liquid. Lightning raced in her blood. She feared the thunder of her heart, the heaving of her breath would reveal her.
Don’t see me. Don’t see me.
Come back, Tanis.
She heard something land nearby. He’d dropped something.
Daring to reach out and seize the garment, she pulled it close.
“By the Gods. No.”
She recognized the fringe of dangling charms in the shape of Dyonine’s symbol.
Those beautiful boys who greeted them at the inn in Vindale. She recalled their bright blue eyes and enthusiasm.
She needed Tanis. It became all too much.
Tanis.
Before she heard his approach, the mercenary arrived almost atop her. His big hard hand over her mouth. “Quiet.” His voice came in her ear. A low fierce hiss. “You must not call out again.”
She did not argue her innocence. Just nodded.
Tanis removed his hand. “I had to kill three guards. They will soon be missed.”
“Did you save the people?”
“Those I could.” His voice held a profound sadness that frightened her more than the hideous warriors.
“The boys?”
“No.”
Her heart broke. She began to shake. “Dead?”
“We must go,” he replied. “Before they realize they’ve had intruders.”
Tears coursed down her cheeks. “You didn’t save them?”
His entire body vibrated. “They’d already been killed.”
She heard the regret, sorrow and burden of responsibility. Sickened by the loss, moved by his emotion, she turned and embraced him. In that moment she experienced a oneness with him that opened her eyes.
She knew the blood of her mother’s people flowed true in her blood.
It sealed her resolve to join the order of Lalunah.
And it galvanized her resolve to have him take her to the temple.
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Kourtesan
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Re: The King's Right
CHAPTER EIGHT
Grief and Gratitude
For three days they traveled only by night, when the horde gathered for their feasts. It lessened the chance of encountering more than skirmishers and outpost guards.
Tanis concentrated on keeping the princess alive. He refused to think about the captives he could not save. Although he’d realized at the time it was too late for most of them, it did not help in the aftermath.
They continued north by northwest. At times they had to move away from the Kyaleah. Tonight they traveled on its banks.
“Are you hungry, princess?”
She shook her head. Since the horde camp, she’d spoken no more than a handful of words.
“Do you need to stop?”
Again she gave a shake of her head.
Tanis knew the travel had exhausted her. Her mental and physical reserves ebbed. Patrols roamed the forest like wild dogs. At almost every moment, he sensed them, heard them.
He didn’t know how long he could continue to push her and avoid the warriors. An idea had begun to form, a solution for the need of a safe place for a few days rest.
But, if he could find another resolution, he would.
Before dawn, Tanis realized a contingent of the horde shadowed them. Larger, though more stealthy than the others. This meant trouble. If a unit of superior tactical skills had assembled, it indicated purpose.
Most likely a hunt for them.
Tanis wondered if he’d lost the luxury of putting off his forming idea.
“Can you continue a while?” he asked.
His charge nodded.
He stopped them mid-morning at Elk Back falls. Behind it, a cave would offer a hiding place for them to sleep. With luck, their mounted travel put them four or five hours ahead of pursuit. Enough for rest.
Tanis helped her down from the gelding. “We have to lead them.”
Valor, familiar with the falls, went readily behind the curtain of water. The gelding balked. Tanis took the reins from the princess and changed the horse’s mind.
The roar made verbal communication impractical. Tanis lead the way to the far chamber. Back here, the noise dropped to a low rumble.
“You sit. I’ll see to them.”
She sat on a flat-topped boulder. Pulled her cloak tighter.
He untacked the horses, rubbed them down and gave them some grain. Then he lead them into the adjoining chamber and hobbled them.
“There’s a place closer to the falls where a stream of water comes down between the rocks. If you can bear the chill, it serves well to wash.”
His charge stood. “I can withstand much to rid myself of the ride.”
“Get what you need. I will stand at the cavern entrance until you’ve finished.
He heard her initial exclamation of shock when the cold water struck her. A sudden unwelcome thought of water sluicing down her bare body struck him like a fist to the gut.
Rather than stand there fermenting the dangerous notion, he made a quick close search for food. A small bramble of early autumn crimson raspberries grew close by. He gathered what he could carry, approached the mouth of the cavern with his back turned.
Her small hand touched him at once. He turned, followed her back to their refuge. After getting her a plate of berries and the last of the nuts from the previous night, he took a clean set of clothes from his packs, soap and his razor-edged knife.
“I won’t take long.”
The cold water helped dispel the effects of his errant fantasy. He dressed. Using a puddle on the dark rocks for a looking glass, he shaved. After he washed his discarded clothing, he rung out the excess moisture and returned to the back chamber.
“It’s a little dark in here.”
From his saddle bags, he took the small tallow candle he carried for her. He lit it, found a ledge about halfway up the wall and placed it there.
Tanis saw her shivering under her cloak. He took her a blanket draped it over her damp hair. “Better?”
“You tend me like my maid.”
“Until we reach the temple, I am everything.”
She looked up at him. Violet shadows lie below her luminous eyes. “Then you will ride away and I’ll never see you again.”
Something in his chest pulled tight. “That’s the job.”
“So I’m a job to you?”
Suddenly fatigue weighed upon him, a crushing burden. He rubbed his eyes. “Our paths are set.”
She stood, took the blanket to the back wall. Realizing she meant to lie on the cold floor, he located the rest of the bedding. Then said, “I’ll be back in a moment.”
He cut as many pine boughs as he could carry and returned. She huddled on the stone. Shivering.
He made a bed beside her, picked her up and deposited her in it. She kept silent, but he sensed her emotional state.
Suvari bit her lip to prevent tears. She blamed her exhaustion and lingering grief about the little boys for the vulnerability. What did she care if she never saw him again? So long as she reached her goal.
He stretched out beside her, close for warmth as he had most every time they slept.
This time seemed different. Her awareness of him created a curious shimmering sensation. She turned away, when she did, the seal and the diamond choker hidden in her stays dug into her ribs. So, she rolled back.
And found herself face-to-face with the mercenary.
He lie on his side as she did. His eyes bright even in the low light.
A sharp thrill raced from her head to her feet. The scent of his myrrh soap mingled with pine she’d smelled on him that day on the stairs. Part of her mind realized his custom of using it for bedding caused that.
His gaze moved to her mouth. Her breasts tingled. A flush heated her neck and cheeks. She felt compelled to touch his face.
He caught her hand, rolled her onto her back and himself half atop her. His hand clasped hers, kept it pinned above her head. Though she’d grown accustomed to such contact, feminine instinct told her this was very different. He’d changed from a trusted escort and companion to something foreign and a bit scary.
His eyes narrowed. Not as when he turned their keen perception on her. More a downsweep of long black lashes, almost lazy. Her breath came rapid and shallow. The strange thrill intensified as his head lowered. His lips touched hers. She whimpered. He tasted like summer rain and something far darker.
More tempting.
His tongue touched her lips and she parted them in surprise. The shocking intimacy tripled as he delved into her mouth.
Suvari put her free hand on his chest. She intended to push him away. But, her fingers slid over him between the parted laces of his shirt. Smooth skin and silken-rough hair over iron brawn.
A bewitching, melting sensation bloomed between the thighs.
From deep in his throat came a rumbling purr. His silky tongue teased, coaxed hers forward.
Between one rapid breath and the next, she found herself alone. He stood above her, charged as the air before a storm.
“Forgive me. It won’t happen again.”
Confused, senses awakened, she now recognized the things she experienced with him all along. Even on the stairs, when he’d caught her, held her body to his. The veil of mystery that shrouded the carnal relations of men and women parted.
A surge of empowerment accompanied the knowledge. It mixed with the sensual excitement in a heady rush.
She sat up, pushed her hair over her shoulder with a shaky hand. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
He swore under his breath in the language she’d often heard him use. “You don’t understand. We cannot have this between us.”
“Why? Who would know?” Ideas began to form. If she could control him with female wile, he might prove more biddable.
“I would know.”
She considered his response. “Though I may still have a long road to travel before I am worldly, I recognize in you the same desire I felt.”
“I am sworn to deliver you virgin to the priests before the next full moon. Your father has my vow. I do not break it.”
“My father is a despicable brute who cares only what he can gain in trade for me. What value does a pledge to him have?”
He knelt, met her gaze. His voice lowered to a hush. “It is my value at stake. I refuse to break my word.”
Suvari’s plots began to crumble before she fully formed them. In the harsh planes of his face she saw determination that matched hers.
“Thanks to my father’s obsession with my maidenhood, I now know where it lies,” she replied, a blush warmed her cheeks. “A kiss does not endanger it.”
He shook his head. “What follows will.”
“You have stopped just now,” she countered. “Nothing must follow.”
“You do not understand the will of passion because you’ve never experienced its satisfaction.”
“Shall we not argue? Our time to rest grows short.”
He rose, went to sit on the boulder she had earlier. “I will guard your sleep.”
Suvari laid back on the bedding. Despite the stimulation, slumber beckoned. She’d had so little. “Even you cannot continue on so little sleep.”
“This has shown me that truth,” he responded. “I believe my judgment has clouded. Later we leave for a place where we can rest in safety for a few days.”
That brought a smile to her lips as she closed her eyes. Perhaps she might yet wear him down with this new weapon.
CHAPTER NINE
Temptation
Tanis berated himself for the line he’d crossed. He would’ve liked to plead enervation and the strain of his mission for committing a foolish indiscretion. However, he’d learned years ago to remain focused and sharp under such circumstances.
He could only blame his growing desire and fascination with his charge.
He picked out a spot far upriver for them to stop hours after dark. The tactical contingent seemed to have either given up chase, or chosen to make it appear so.
Tanis hid the horses, still saddled and ready, in a ravine below the huge yew tree where he intended they rest.
“Must we go so high?” the princess asked from the ground as he fashioned a platform and arranged bedding.
“If someone could get past my snares and trip lines, the distance from the ground offers a defense delay.”
Tanis judged the distance to the forest floor, swung below the platform and dropped to the ground.
She gasped. “By the Gods it frightens me when you do that.”
“Child’s play,” he replied. “Time to see to your ablutions and go up.”
When they both finished, he put her over his shoulder as he had many times before. Instantly he became aware of her breasts against his back, her hips so near his face.
He went steel-hard in a heartbeat. The ascent seemed to take ages. He set her on the platform’s edge, then climbed up himself.
In the bedding, he did his level best to ignore her shivering.
After a while she whispered, “Tanis?”
He shut his eyes for a moment. “Aye?”
“I’m cold.”
Tanis all but grit his teeth as he took her into his arms. Every curve, each contour and nuance of her shape seemed to imprint itself on his mind. Her hair smelled of the red jasmine soap she’d bathed with earlier.
The memory of her sweet silken mouth burned in him like fever.
“Your heart beats faster than normal,” she observed.
He told himself he’d never wanted a woman like this, it must be the circumstances. Not her. Reminded himself her honor had nothing to do with her virginity. She’d made no promises. But it’d everything to do with his honor, for he had.
She sat up, braced herself on a bent elbow to gaze down at him. “That you kissed me troubles you, and I am sorry for that.” She leaned closer. Her hair spilled down to puddle on his chest and shoulder. “Though, I am not sorry for the kiss.”
He didn’t move or speak. Distrusting himself.
She came closer, her big golden-brown eyes on his mouth. “It was my first.”
His gut pulled so taut it hurt.
Her lips hovered above his, tempting like a siren of lore. At their innocent, tentative touch, he groaned. As if she’d tied him there, he lie helpless.
In the darkness, she held him captive. Her kiss tasted of pure sweetness and an offering he desperately longed to accept. Desire vibrated in him, as ruthless and demanding as she was gentle and giving.
He’d once found himself caught in an avalanche. The same sensation of a headlong, uncontrolled fall seized him. With a will of their own, his hands moved over her, molded her tighter to him.
He took care of the boundaries of their nest, rolled her under him. Her little delighted cry made his heart twist and his erection buck.
For a moment, he kissed her as he hungered to. Explored her honey-sweet mouth, tasted and learned it. Touched her hair and face, as if he’d soon lay claim to the rest of her.
He wondered at the madness of his thoughts as he considered what pleasures they might share and yet preserve her virginity.
Tanis lifted his head, tried to control his raging desire. He rolled onto his back. “I have brow-beaten myself for the folly of kissing you. Now I begin to think beyond it.”
She came back over, draped herself upon his chest. “I’ve given myself into your care.”
He held her tight, conscious of the Kahal warriors who hunted them, her life in his hands.
He would take her to the safe place he’d hoped to avoid.
Even though it meant facing the past he’d hidden from for over twenty years.
Suvari couldn’t keep her eyes off him.
Just when she thought she’d viewed his fierce, harshly handsome face from the best angle, he’d turn, the light would change, and she’d find something new in his masculine beauty.
Even more, his body drew her gaze like a lodestone.
His wolfish grace, unfailing strength and energy hypnotized her. With ruthless efficiency, he managed her gelding in more dangerous terrain, the powerful spirited stallion, and all the while kept a sharp watch over her.
During their travel her memory strayed often to the night before. Especially the words that followed the exciting kiss.
“I have brow-beaten myself for the folly of kissing you. Now, I begin to think beyond it.”
She knew naught of what he spoke.
Though intended he show her.
“We stop just ahead, princess.”
Suvari considered some of the things he’d told her, his dedication to his work and keeping his word. “You don’t call me by name. Is that something you do apurpose to distance yourself?”
He glanced back at her, expression unreadable. “Had I known the persistence of your curiosity, I’d have demanded more in payment.”
Suvari sensed she’d struck a nerve. Since that terrible night at the horde camp when she’d summoned him with her mind, then momentarily bonded with him, she’d not doubted her instincts in such cases. The potent, mystical blood of her mother’s people flowed in her veins.
“I have my answer.”
He shot her another look. “Had Hygarre your intelligence, he’d rule the continent.”
She laughed. “Don’t forget you believe ladies of society think only of fashion and jewels.” Even as she jested, it made her conscious of her simple braid and riding habit.
For a moment she shut her eyes. Flashing, disjointed images of herself came in a dizzy rush. She knew they came from his point of view. All held a few common threads: respect, admiration, desire.
Suvari smiled. Despite her nagging muscle aches, saddle-bruised bottom and serious need for a long sleep, she just put her mind in the moment and enjoyed the sounds of dusk on the river.
They camped on the edge of the Kyaleah. Suvari experienced an instant affinity with the area. She dismounted without the usual help. Then, on a whim knelt to touch the pine needle- and leaf-strewn ground.
A vibrant shock, lightning and frigid cold at once, raced up her arm to her chest.
Suvari saw a vision of herself, naked in her escort’s arms. Then it vanished, leaving an odd sense of peace.
Tanis spoke to her as he tended the horses. “We may rest the night here. This place is sanctified. It’s called The Grove of Fendwathwynn.”
Glancing about, she noted the odd formation of the tree limbs. “Have they been cultivated? Like braided willows?”
“Coaxed,” he replied, “by female clerics of the goddess Lalunah. Fendwathwynn was a powerful magic user of that order. Hundreds of years ago she traveled these lands, seeking out women who wished to join the order. She and her sister clerics consecrated the ground, beguiled the trees into formations of sacred runes. She is called,” he hesitated, “the virgin temptress.”
Suvari inhaled a deep breath. She’d come to the right place.
On consecrated ground, they could have a fire. Tanis built a blaze, heated rocks for warming wash water. He waded into the river for freshwater mussels and dwarf lobster, placed them in the little pot over the fire and added several other ingredients.
The scent caused her belly to growl in anticipation.
“Come here,” he bid.
She approached.
“Always have the water boiling before you put them in,” he instructed. “Add pepper greens when you can. Not only do they season, they have healing properties when consumed.”
His resourcefulness always awed her. “How can you know these things?”
His gaze strayed over her face then returned to task. “I spent a great while sequestered in my youth. Reading nourished me.” For a moment he said nothing more. Then, “Also I had a very good teacher.”
A teacher and books. Suvari gained new veneration for him. “You can read?”
For a moment he regarded her without discernible emotion. “This place I take you has many maps, scrolls and books. I will start teaching you.”
After a warm wash, change into clean garments and a delicious meal, Suvari felt like a queen. She lay on her back, on a platform Tanis fashioned in a huge willow. He continued to move about below. Tending the horses, mending packs and tack, gathering nuts and pepper greens to take in the morning.
Suvari concentrated very hard on preventing his animal-like senses from detecting her scrutiny from under lowered eyelids.
She realized he believed she’d fallen asleep, when he cast one last glance toward her, then stripped off his leather jack and shirt.
Her heart turned an awkward flip. The now familiar liquid heat pooled low in her belly.
He was too glorious for words. Impossibly wide of shoulder, whipcord lean of waist and flank. Powerful brawn rounded his shoulders, clefted his back. As he turned she saw the broadness of his chest, the sharp delineation of muscle that ridged his belly.
Skin the color of rich honey, interrupted here and there by intriguing scars, covered him. Black hair dusted his chest, tapered to a thin line down his flat stomach. No wonder they called him Tanis the Dark.
The small black pouch he wore hung suspended around his strong corded throat by a thin leather thong.
Suvari’s face flushed and her mouth went dry.
Though he’d bathed earlier at the falls, he washed his upper body before he drew on a clean shirt.
By the time he finished final chores and joined her aloft, she feared her trembling would betray her.
He lay down on top of the blankets at her left side. With her head turned right, eyes closed, she fought to keep her breathing even.
After several moments, she turned her head to look at him. He stared up into the canopy of limbs and leaves.
“I know you watched.” His words emerged low and husky.
“Aye.”
“Ladies of your station do not fain sleep to watch men take off their clothes.”
Suvari replied, “Very well. Next time I’ll sit right up and get a proper eyeful.”
“Curiosity is natural,” he murmured. “But, other men will not be bound to leave you virgin. I don’t want to have to kill a man for being tempted by your brazenness.”
“Fear not, then. Other men interest me as the plague.”
“I am the first man you’ve had real contact with,” he returned. Beneath his low, reasonable tone, she sensed desire.
With her newfound abilities, it would become difficult for even his disciplined behavior to fool her. “You embody honor, intelligence, mercy and strength. What other man will possess those qualities?” She turned to her side, propped herself on a bent elbow. “As well as such rugged beauty?”
In the dim quarter moon light that filtered through the willow, she saw him close his eyes.
“You mentioned ‘what follows’ a kiss.” She leaned close. “We are safe in this grove. Show me what you meant.”
In a harsh whisper he returned, “Do not ask it of me.”
Suvari felt his weakness. “I wish to preserve my maidenhood just as you. Yet why deny ourselves pleasure?”
“You know nothing of what you speak.” His harsh tone told her she gained ground. “You are little more than a child in mind.”
She recognized his intent to insult her, control himself. “I told you before I recognize an untruth on your lips. Teach me about this desire.”
His eyes opened. Their paleness seemed to capture the moonlight. “Even if I considered the thought,” he murmured, “I cannot risk distraction.”
“I understand.” Suvari lie her head upon his chest. “Hold me, then. I like sleeping in your arms.”
He swore. She smiled.
Tanis wrapped her in his warm, comforting embrace.
--- Read pre-launch through AFF. Check out my work. (Adult Content)
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