by Vela Roth
Separated from her by the breadth of the dais, Flavian grinned and lifted his eyebrows. Time for the Smile again.
Cassia was not pleased that the first place she ever led the ladies of Tenebra’s royal court was into Anthros’s hands, but one had to start somewhere. The other young women filed past the Prisma to receive their bundles of wheat and lined up beside Cassia. Before long, the row of Kyrias-to-be stretched across half the green, facing the company of warriors who waited to claim them in the dance.
Lady Biata was at Cassia’s right hand but showed the king’s bastard only her shoulder, pinning her gaze on her suitor across from her. Cassia cast a glance down the line. Most of the women appeared only to have eyes for the men.
The motion of their lips was more revealing as they murmured among themselves. Some ladies bragged of their suitors’ lands and wealth, while others praised their chosen partners’ honor and kindness. Then there were those who sang Flavian’s praises to the last.
“…not another man equal to him in all the world!”
“He is privy to all the king’s meetings in the solar…”
“Do you know he has a suit of flametongue armor?”
“…can’t believe our Flavian must make do with her!”
“Such an ugly, brown little thing.”
“…hardly enough breasts to put in a spoon…”
“…always gardening like a common kitchen maid. No wonder she’s covered in those hideous freckles.”
“That must be why she bathes so often. She is trying to scrub them off.”
“Her spots are the least of what she can never wash away.”
The crowd around the edges of the green was just as raucous. Younger sisters, maiden aunts and weeping mothers slipped in and out of the audience to approach the line of young ladies, offering advice and congratulations. Amid niceties, nagging and foolish vapors, Cassia spotted many genuine expressions of love.
Lord Galanthian’s two daughters stood with their arms around each other. Lady Nivalis looked vexed, a sure sign she felt like crying.
Her elder sister smiled and patted her shoulder. “Do not regret I will never dance the Greeting.”
“You are welcome to be an old maid as far as I’m concerned. I just wish I didn’t have to do without you.”
“You shall do well all on your own, and you know it. You will make a wonderful wife and I a wonderful mage. We will both have everything we always wanted. I thank the goddess it came to father’s attention that his land up north is hospitable for growing rimelace. I can still scarcely believe my good fortune that the mages of Kyria accepted me in return for the donation. Be happy for me.”
“I am happy for you, and you know it.”
So was Cassia. It wasn’t always easy to make her plots against the king turn out so happily for all concerned. But this time, through her anonymous intervention about Lord Galanthian’s land, she had been able to achieve her goals while also helping a fellow woman.
When Nivalis’s sister retreated to rejoin the visitors from the Temple of Kyria, Cassia caught her gaze and smiled her congratulations. The new mage looked away and turned her back.
Cassia bit back a sigh. Her progress building bridges with the ladies of the court had never been very good. Now they were ready to torch the bridges altogether. Being the bastard daughter of a concubine had been enough, but now she was the presumptuous bastard of a concubine who had dared aspire to be Kyria and steal the most eligible lord in the king’s court. The temple’s patronage and Flavian’s courtship had stoked womankind’s disdain and occasional pity into full-fledged loathing.
Cassia remembered a time when the ladies’ opinions would not have mattered to her. But she had come to appreciate that all of them were potential Peritas. Cassia had learned not to look at her fellow women as hypocrites, threats and competitors. Perhaps too late. Convincing them to stop looking at her that way might well be one battle she could not win.
It would be hard to do what she must without their support.
The last young lady joined the line, and the Prisma raised her hands once more behind the women. Across the green, the royal mage did the same behind the men.
“With his Sickle,” the royal mage declared, “may Anthros bring his season of the sun to its end.”
“With her generous hands,” the Prisma echoed, “may Kyria deliver unto us the season of her Bounty.”
Flavian broke the line, twirling the Sickle in his hands. Showoff. Cassia met him halfway and held up her sheaf of wheat in both hands. With greater care, he positioned the Sickle over the middle of the sheaf.
He paused. The whole court waited. Flavian winked at Cassia.
Then he brought the Sickle down, slicing through the sheaf, and the crowd erupted in cheers. Cassia did as she was expected and turned to face the attendees on the sidelines. Now everyone looked at her, waiting to see who would catch the halves of her sheaf and receive Kyria’s fertility blessing right from the goddess’s hands.
Cassia shut her eyes and hurled the wheat in Perita’s direction. When she opened her eyes, she saw her friend shaking with laughter and holding both halves of the sheaf.
Flavian chuckled as he made an elaborate bow to the throne and laid the Sickle upon the dais. When he took Cassia’s hand once more, the minstrels launched into their next fit of music, and the dance began.
Cassia and Flavian commenced the ancient steps of the Autumn Greeting, weaving past one another, circling, nearing again. She could see the other females around her watching the way he moved. But even so, too many eyes were on her. She imagined herself invisible in the gallery. Better yet, hidden behind Solia’s flametongue veil.
“My lady,” Flavian said under the music, “you will never guess what news my cousin has brought from home.”
What now? “I’m sure I shall not, my lord.”
“Do you recall that lovely Segetian hunting hound I told you about, the young, pretty bitch with the black mask and green eyes?”
She blinked in surprise. “The one you were trying to breed for the first time?”
“The very same. My kennel masters had success with her and one of our best studs. She delivered a healthy litter without a bit of trouble not three days before Genie departed for Solorum. My cousin was excited to tell me the news the moment she arrived.”
“Well, congratulations.” A grin crept up on Cassia in spite of her. “That’s lovely. How many pups?”
“Thirteen.”
“Oh my.” A chuckle escaped her. “Her first time? Poor darling.”
“I now have puppies running out my ears.”
“That is an astonishing vision, my lord. It’s a good thing you have so many friends to assist you with this malady. Are they not lining up to beg you for Segetian hunters?”
“Ah, but you see, I cannot let any of the pups out into the world without training. They shall need a firm hand as they grow. Perhaps from someone who is adept at dealing with the even greater demands of disciplining a liegehound.”
“My lord, I somehow do not think Anthros spoke to Kyria of dogs when he took her to wife and established the rhythm of the seasons.”
“Well, he must come up with at least some topics of conversation she finds engaging, for she has continued to put up with him through all fourteen scions.” He grinned. “See there, you are smiling instead of looking ready to take up the Sickle and hurt someone. It worked. I shall advise all the men I know that the cure for Greeting nerves is a good dog. Although you must do without Knight today, we can at least talk about hounds.”
It was really a shame Flavian planned to marry her. They might have been friends otherwise.
The trill of a horn announced it was time for Anthros to allow lesser gods a turn about the green with Kyria. Flavian handed Cassia off to Lord Adrogan. She made one repetition of the dance steps with her erstwhile suitor, who was today Lady Biata’s partner. Then he surrendered Cassia back to Flavian with a bow of defeat.
After she and Flavian
performed the pattern again, it was another lord’s turn. One by one, the men recognized Cassia with a dance down the line, then returned her to Flavian to show they relinquished their claim.
“Congratulations on your recent appointment to the Council,” said Cassia to her fourth partner.
“Thank you, my lady,” the new Free Lord Ennius replied.
“I was in a state of shock when I learned the king stripped Free Lord Ferus of his title and lands, leaving an empty seat at the Council table. Last I heard, the guards turned him out into the eastern wilds with nothing but what he could carry. What an astonishing turn of events.”
“I only wish we knew who alerted His Majesty’s exchequer that the bandits waylaying royal tax wagons were Ferus’s men in disguise. I’d like to thank the informant for my good fortune.”
Cassia seldom revealed her hand, but she had made sure Ferus knew it was she who had exposed him, and that she would lay him even lower, should he show his face again. He must live with the knowledge that she had ruined him. Just as she had suspected, he was so humiliated that a woman had bested him that he had not breathed a word of her involvement to anyone.
Now he was on the eastern frontier, where there was no one for him to tell—or threaten—except hard men like himself. Denied the king’s protection, outlaws like him were at the mercy of the only justice in that wild territory: Hesperines errant.
“Free Lord Ennius, your mysterious benefactor must rejoice to see Ferus’s lands and Council seat bestowed upon a man of honor. The way you have already championed Tenebran temples since you joined the Council is an inspiration.”
“I value the good opinion of such a devout lady as yourself. You appreciate how those of us in positions of influence must show our devotion to Tenebra’s temples and the mages who uphold our traditions.”
“Indeed, my lord. I could not agree more.”
Cassia danced her way through the court, winning many more smiles from the men than she had from the ladies and even some disappointed gazes. Any object of Flavian’s must be worthy of pursuit, and his rivals regretted their failure to snatch Lady Cassia while they’d had the chance.
A number of them also regretted their recent loss of a copper mine, toll collection privileges or a vote on the Council. How might their faces change if they knew they owed those failures to the lady herself? Cassia offered her condolences for the hopes she had dashed and compliments to those whose status she had elevated, in between turns with Flavian in which he jested with her incessantly.
At the very end of the line, a callused, strong hand took hers, and she looked up into the weathered face of a man who had endured more years and griefs than the careless young bucks around him. He danced the steps with the skill of someone who had done them before, but he did not smile.
“Lord Deverran,” Cassia said. “I had no idea we would have the pleasure of your company in the dance today.”
“No one is more surprised than I, Lady Cassia.”
As the dance turned them, Cassia looked to see who stood across from his place. “Allow me to congratulate you. Lady Nivalis is a woman worthy of admiration.”
“Yes. She has borne too much for one so young, but she has not lost her spirit.”
“I have seen her talent and strength of character in the many hours we have passed together in Lady Hadrian’s weaving room.”
The dance brought him back around to face Cassia, but he looked away. “You must wonder at an autumn dancer such as myself attempting a summer carole.”
Here at the end of the line, the minstrels’ music was loudest, the path back to Flavian and other prying ears longest.
Cassia ventured, “I should think a harvest union brings comfort and prosperity to those who suffered rain in spring.”
“It seems you’ve made it through your own winter.” Lord Deverran glanced at her gown. “You still intend to hang a new sun in our sky, Lady Basilis?”
“I shall not rest until I have done so. When the time comes for me to dispel the clouds, can I still rely on you to carry a bystander out of the storm?”
His gaze sought Lady Nivalis’s. “I am more prepared now to offer shelter.”
“Is she?”
“You said yourself she possesses great strength of character. I would not dishonor such a woman by dealing less than straightly with her. She knows what I am and what I am not…and yet here she stands.” He did indeed sound surprised.
“I am happy for you, my lord. It is rare for those of us who have suffered losses at Anthros’s hands to find solace.”
“Anthros is king. How can we say he stole from us, when all within his domain is rightfully his?”
“Do you mean to say you have doubts, my lord?”
“We mortals ought to have doubts when resisting the will of a god.”
“You would rather go back to bearing your loss in silence?”
“That’s what you have done these many years.”
“Not any longer,” Cassia swore.
“Do we not have more to lose after today?”
“Nay, my lord. More to protect.”
“I will only risk abandoning Anthros for a goddess who promises victory—and reigns with a kinder hand.”
“She has the power to triumph, and her request to you is proof of how she will lead.” Cassia lowered her voice, lifting her face so Lord Deverran could hear. “She will see no more of Anthros’s scions pay for the god of war’s abuses. The youngest will not be the next to fall. He deserves a father with a kinder hand.”
“Then we are of one mind.”
“You have told me you regret that you once laid down your sword. I know you have the strength and the will to take it up again. For the sake of your fallen goddess and mine, let us drive Anthros’s chariot down from the sky.”
His eyes flashed, and his face hardened. “I shall make way for the new goddess to ascend.”
The dance forced them out of the shelter of the minstrels’ noise. Lord Deverran escorted Cassia back to Flavian in silence. He gave her a deep bow before retreating down the line.
The ritual was complete, Anthros’s right to Kyria acknowledged. The other men now bounded forward to stake their own claims. Their ladies met them and bestowed their sheafs of wheat, which would later be scattered under their marriage beds to invite the gods to bless them with male heirs on their wedding nights.
“We’ve done our duty.” Flavian spoke low in Cassia’s ear. “Now our couple dance begins.”
Cassia hoped Flavian was equal to the steps she would require of him before their dance was through.
Crossing the Feud
The Greeting dance was over. But Cassia could not let her legs give out yet.
The sense of blur came over her again, and one couple dance with Flavian melted into the next. His fingers entangled hers and unleashed her anxiety anew. The dances shrank the distance between them and tied her stomach in knots. She had done her part—but only for today.
Between two dances, Flavian came to a standstill and eyed Cassia’s brow. “It’s grown quite warm, hasn’t it? I think the weather mages rather overdid it. I see the indefatigable forces of the king’s kitchens have arrived and set out the festival feast. Allow me to retrieve you a drink and a plate to refresh you.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“But it won’t do to leave you alone.” He glanced around at the promised couples who danced and others who had joined in simply for merriment, partnering with friends and siblings. “I still cannot see Genie and Lady Valentia. I had thought they would find us by now. I sent Benedict to look for them.”
“I’m sure they will have found us by the time you return. I am quite capable of enduring a few moments of solitude, I assure you. You may safely venture to the tables, my lord.”
Flavian sighed. “I’ll only be a moment.”
He headed for the side of the green nearest the palace, where trestle tables were quickly disappearing under mounds of food. Like a trail of ants, servants carr
ied platter after platter of traditional harvest dishes from the king’s gates. Flavian joined the lords who were selecting delicacies for their ladies…and tasting the wine. To ensure it was suitable for feminine consumption, of course. There was no telling how many sips it might require to determine that.
Some men made for one end of the spread, while others drifted toward the opposite side. Flavian roamed the entire length of the tables. On the green, the lines between the men’s and women’s halves of the festival were no more, but a new divide was gradually becoming visible. The king’s pavilion seemed to mark the new dividing line and the only neutral ground between Lord Hadrian’s faction and Lord Titus’s.
Lady Hadrian sailed to Cassia’s side without dignifying any of the prowling feuders with a glance. Although her long, wavy hair was gray and her expressive eyes only for her husband, she received no few gazes of respect and admiration. “Allow me to compliment you on your gown, my dear, and the grace with which you wear it.”
Cassia took Solia’s skirts in her hands and offered a courtesy. “Thank you, my lady. Those words mean a great deal to me when spoken by you who have seen this gown before.”
“I shall never forget.”
Cassia was grateful for the reminder. She valued every rare chance to speak of Solia with one of the few people who knew the truth about her sister’s death. Lord Hadrian did not keep secrets from his wife, not even the tragedy of that night when he, the king’s most powerful and trusted warrior, had been unable to save the princess from her own father. All Lord Hadrian could do was show kindness to Cassia for Solia’s sake and keep his own daughters as far from court as possible.
Cassia cast a glance at Hadria’s side of the gathering. “It was lovely to see Sabina earlier. I know how happy you are she is making a rare visit to Solorum for the Greeting. I hope she has not had to depart for home already.”
“No, not for home, not yet. But I am sorry to say she had to return to the palace. She is not feeling well.”
“Is she all right?” What a question for Cassia to ask. How well she knew that after today, neither she nor Sabina would feel anything was all right ever again.