I almost swallowed my tongue. He sent a royal to do a servant’s task?
“That’s unnecessary, I assure you.” I looked to Asher for help. “There’s no need to trouble her.”
“That girl is nothing but trouble,” Lleu told me. “Let her work some of it off.”
“No one asked you, Lleuellyn.” Pascale thrust out her hip. “Or shall I call you Ellen for short?”
Lleu’s face purpled. He had taken a step toward her before Asher caught his arm.
“Paladin Rhys would kill you if you strangled his wife’s sister,” Asher cautioned.
Lleu spat at Pascale. “It might be worth it for the chance to wring that scrawny neck of hers like the clucking hen she is.”
“What is it with you and poultry?” Asher raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t start with me,” Lleu warned. “That was one time and we agreed…” He noticed me staring and tugged on his collar. “Never mind.”
“I mind,” Pascale trilled. “What were you about to say, Ellen?”
Lleu glared at her, fingers flexing as if he could imagine them wrapped around her delicate throat, crushing the life out of her.
“Easy.” Asher moved between them. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I’ve been stranded here, in the middle of godsforsaken farm country. The females here require a ring on their finger and their life thread tied to yours before they spread their legs. There is nothing to hunt, no one to fight, nothing to do but drink barley brew until your eyes cross and you pass out.” Lleu bared his fangs at Pascale. “The Viper of Beltania had a mind to take advantage of my drunk.”
“Is it my fault he drinks like a fish?” Pascale smirked. “Or that he told me his sad life’s story?”
Lleu went so still I wasn’t sure if he was breathing. “What did you say?”
Pascale’s gulp was audible. “Marne, dear, come along. We really should get refreshed.”
She clutched my arm like a lifeline and used me as a buffer between her and Lleu.
I glanced back at Asher, but he was struggling to restrain Lleu. Without a trusted guard, I couldn’t bathe. Being caught nude would equal a death sentence.
“You’ll be fine,” Pascale said gaily. Then softer, “But I might not be if we don’t get moving.”
My shoulder popped when she yanked me stumbling after her.
Though the city was smaller than what I was used to, Pascale managed to lose us in the alleys of Beltania. Oh, she knew her way. She darted nimbly between buildings and glided down its corridors.
We ducked behind a house shrouded by drying fabrics hung on lines strung between dwellings.
I fingered tassels on a light fabric dyed pale blue as I passed underneath. “Are these for sale?”
Without my luggage, I had no change of clothes, but I might fashion a dress from the cloth.
If I were very clever, I might even fashion a covering for my wings to spare me from my coat.
“There’s no charge.” She plucked two lengths and tucked them under her arm.
She left me staring after her audacity.
If my coins weren’t tucked snugly in Edan’s saddlebag, I would have left payment for the fabric she had helped herself to. Who but a royal would presume to snag clothes from another’s line?
“Shouldn’t we ask permission?” I shuddered to think how my master would have punished me if I had dared such a thing and the fabric’s owner had turned me in to him. “I would like to pay them.”
“It’s really not necessary.” She reached for my hand and laughed at my expression. “I live here. While you swallow the shock of that, I’ll tell you a secret. I made these fabrics myself. It’s a relief someone covets them. I was a failure at spinning at home, and even here I struggle to do more than weave the most basic fabrics or dye the simplest blues. It makes me wonder if I am Araneidae.”
I didn’t form a proper response in time, that or she must not have anticipated one. While I was entertaining the thought that perhaps her inability to contribute to the nest was the cause of her exile, she was barreling through the maze of damp cloth toward a beaten path that curved through a hedge.
Now I was thoroughly turned around. “If you don’t mind me asking, where are we going?”
“To the river. This side is for females,” she said. “Asher and Ellen must bathe on the other side.”
At least that meant fewer prying eyes to catch me while I was vulnerable. Once night fell, I could sneak back here and indulge in a long soak without fear of exposure.
“Have you been in Beltania long?” I wondered. “You seem so at home here.”
“A few months,” she hedged. “How long were you in Erania?”
The murmur of old secrets left me unsure how to answer that without incriminating myself. I settled on, “The same as your visit, only a few months.”
“The Salticidae maven, Sikyakookyang, told Old Father to expect you.” She fluttered a hand. “It was his idea that I try to master some skill at weaving. He seems to believe that my creative block is of my own doing, as though I relished the stigma of being an Araneidae female with breakable silk.”
Her scathing emphasis left me no doubt her malady was genuine, or that she had suffered for it.
In that respect, we were equals. “I’m sure he only wants to help you.”
Pascale folded the blue cloth and set it on a wooden bench before kneeling to check under it.
“Old Father is a great male,” she agreed, “and I am a better person for knowing him.” With a grunt, she stood and dusted the sand from her skirt before pulling its hem up her thighs.
Sunlight glinted on a fine chain strung between her ankles. Its thinness and her origins led me to speculate it was made from Araneidae silk, which meant it was unbreakable, apparently even for her.
That explained her halting gait. For whatever reason, she wore the shackles of a criminal.
Once on the riverbank, Pascale dipped her toes in the shallows. She struck a frustrated pose with her skirt at her knees. She waded deeper while searching the shore behind a wall of thick underbrush.
“There should be a basket here.” She turned a slow circle. “I know I left it right there.”
I went to stand at the water’s edge. “Can I help?”
“No, it seems my basket came untied. Gods only know where it’s gone now.” She came to stand by me. “You can go ahead if you like. I’ll return to my room and grab a few cakes of soap and more fresh washcloths. I’ll have to be quick, though, in case Lleu comes.” She hesitated. “You can swim?”
“Like a fish.”
What Fortunia had lacked in basic decency, being the clan home of one of the last Araneae clans who embraced slavery, it excelled in decadent pursuits for those of a certain class. The finest homes had pools, and my master’s had been a work of art. Blue tile covered the bottom, waves frothed with white crests along the sides and the rim had been inset with green sea glass. Sneaking into the pool at night had given me such a rush. It had been my nightly indulgence once the house was asleep, until I caught my master watching me from the shadows. Even that tiny scrap of joy he had taken from me.
His voyeurism shouldn’t have shocked me. In hindsight, I should have been grateful to escape to my room afterward instead of being punished in the same manner he punished Edan’s disobedience.
Pascale pointed at me. “For my peace of mind, don’t duck your head until I return.”
“Yes, mistress.” I was partway into a curtsey before I caught myself.
Old training died hard.
“I’m no one’s mistress now.” Her hand softened into a wave. “I’ll return as fast as I can.”
Pascale left me alone to be seduced by the bubbling of the river.
I bit my lip. It wouldn’t hurt to walk along the shore.
After sinking my t
oes in the sand, I rolled up my pants and eased into the shallows. The current rushed over my feet, sending chills skittering down my arms despite the thickness of my coat. I crept a little deeper into the water, and before I knew it, the current was rushing past my knees. The cold press of water felt so perfect, so cleansing, I kept going until my chemise clung to me. I was up to my chest when a shriek rent the air. Thinking the scream came from the direction of town, I spun toward shore and slipped on the sandy bottom. My feet sailed from under me and my head dunked beneath the water. I kicked off the bottom and fought to stand.
Straining my ears, I heard nothing through the water plugging them.
Keeping a wary eye on the shore, I half-expected risers to appear, but it was Asher I saw instead.
“What was that?” I called to him.
He stood frozen in place, his lips slightly parted.
I glanced at the opposite shore, but it was barren. “What is it?”
He lifted his arm, and a basket dangled from his fingers. “I…”
“Where is Pascale?” I waded back to knee depth.
“Lleu and…” He wet his lips. “What did you ask?”
The same slight breeze that set the reeds along the riverbank swaying drew my nipples into hard peaks. My breasts were so slight I never wore a breastband, and my chemise was plastered onto me.
He might have seen the flat expanse of my stomach, but my coat covered everything else. It protected us from impropriety.
Embarrassment almost overcame me, but the blush I expected to heat my cheeks enflamed his instead.
He set down the basket and retreated, careful to keep his back to me.
I stepped onto the bank and picked a soap cake from the basket. It smelled divine.
“I asked you where Pascale has gone,” I called.
Asher’s spine snapped straight, and his fists bunched at his sides. “Old Father wished to speak to her. It could be some time before she’s free to…” His voice went deep. “I won’t take advantage of you again. I was surprised to find you as I did.” He murmured, “I would make amends if you let me.”
“You won’t expose me to the Salticidae?” I hated the frightened edge of my question.
Though impossible to tell from here, I think he put his fist over his heart. “You have my word.”
“All right. I accept your offer.” I grasped my lapels and slid my jacket off my shoulders. “I must ask you to stand farther away, as it is only proper, but…not too far. I want to hear you if you signal.”
He took a few more steps until he stood on the far side of the hedge wall. “Will this do?”
“Yes.” I hesitated when my coat hit my elbows, but I shut my eyes and tossed it to the sand.
“Let me know if you need anything.”
The water in my ears must have distorted his voice. Surely I hadn’t heard him smile.
“A kind offer.” I shucked my clothes, grabbed the soap and a cloth. “I can wash my own back.”
“And your wings?” he asked softly. “What about those?”
The cake of soap shot from my hand.
I used the excuse of diving after it to avoid further conversation.
Chapter Six
Asher’s impatience was a beast prowling the confines of the modest room where we awaited the arrival of Maven Sikyakookyang and her husband, Paladin Chinedu. We knelt on a dirt floor near the base of a lounge covered in vibrant pillows. While we waited with our heads bent, I noticed a clever hand had impressed square rows in the hard-packed ground to give the impression of laid tile floors.
My fingers came away clean when I traced the nearest faux grout line. Such care had been taken in crafting the intricate patterns that they might have been glazed clay tiles rather than polished earth.
“I’ll do the talking.” Asher’s voice cut through the silence.
“I suppose I will do the listening then. Perhaps nod appropriately to punctuate your points.”
His sigh was long suffering. “I don’t trust you to negotiate in your current state of mind.”
Amusement laced my voice. “What state of mind is that?”
He scoffed. “No male alive would answer that question if he wanted to remain breathing.”
I kept my chin tucked against my chest to stifle the chuckles tickling the back of my throat.
After the last week I thought myself drained of happiness. I marveled at the urge to laugh.
Fabric rustled in the doorway at our back, and a warm breeze swirled over my bare feet.
A sharper version of the soap cake’s light scent filled my nose as the curvy female who must be Maven Sikyakookyang sashayed past. I had heard that the Salticidae used their dayflowers for every purpose from soaps and perfumes to medicines. The maven wearing dayflower perfume that her clan had surely produced must be a point of pride. Not that I blamed her. It was a pleasant floral scent.
“I hope you weren’t waiting long,” she said. “A disturbance outside of town kept me and my husband out until dawn.” The maven strolled to the lounge and reclined across the cushions. “I expected several guards as well as the Thomisidae couple. Are you two what remains of the envoy?”
“We lost three of our guards and five ursus.” Asher rumbled, “There were risers in the north.”
She addressed me rather than Asher. “What about your husband?”
The room went hazy for a moment while I blinked. “He was killed in the crossing.”
Her hand went to a sun-shaped pendant at her throat. “May the two gods bless him and keep him.”
Light shifted in the room as the rug over the doorway was pulled aside yet again.
Without raising my head, I could only tell the male had dark skin and silver rings on his toes.
Rather than ask the maven to rearrange herself, he simply lifted her and sat with her in his arms.
From the noises, I surmised they were kissing. I ducked my head farther to afford them privacy.
After clearing his throat, Asher said, “Might I ask what the trouble was last night?”
“No trouble,” the male who must be Chinedu rumbled. “A minor disturbance is all.”
“We don’t stand on ceremony here,” the maven said. Though she had kept our heads bowed for some minutes now, the same as I would expect from any other ruler. “You may lift your faces.”
Chinedu grunted and shared a sideways glance with his wife. “That face explains the ruckus between the guards earlier.”
I jutted out my chin. “The fault for that tussle lies with them. Not with me.”
The paladin chuckled. “Males ruffle their feathers to attract the attention of pretty females.”
“If that was true, Lleu would have none left.” The maven rolled her eyes. “That cock has crowed at Pascale for weeks. I have never seen such a pair. She’s as likely to pluck and boil him as she is to smile at him. Though I suppose that might be the lure. He is Mimetidae after all. Their tastes are…”
Abhorrent, she might have said. Or vile. After all, the partaking of Araneaean flesh was taboo.
Once I might have shared the sentiment. Now, thanks to Idra, I shared those tastes.
“Speaking of taste…” She pursed her lips. “Is the fabric you’re wearing of Pascale’s making?”
“Yes. My clothes were lost. She was kind enough to gift me this fabric for a simple drape.”
I had used the first length of fabric and a wide ribbon to fashion myself a basic chiton popular in Fortunia. The improvised dress hung to my ankles and was cinched at my waist. The second length was gathered to create a modified cloak with deep folds. I pinned the material at my shoulders with broaches Pascale loaned me in the hopes that extra layers of fabric hid the outline of my wings.
The maven nodded. “You improve her attempts at weaving by wearing them.”
I wo
uld have argued at the fineness of the weave but instead murmured, “Thank you.”
“Before we join the rest of the clan for first meal—” the maven slid onto the seat, “—we wanted to make proper introductions and discuss what you hope to gain from your time among our people.”
“Forgive my rudeness, Maven, for that must surely be who you are.” Not that either of them saw fit to make their introductions. “I am Marne of the Thomisidae, and this is Asher of the Mimetidae.”
“The pleasure is ours,” the maven assured us.
“Indeed.” Chinedu smoothed his beard. “What I don’t understand is why Henri sent you. What he said in his letter was too vague for us to grasp what it is you hope to accomplish by staying here.”
“Marne is…” Asher glanced at me as if asking for my permission.
I was unsure how much he could share without the whole truth tumbling out, but I nodded.
“Marne has delicate health. Henri was treating her condition.” Asher left the couple to make of my condition what they would. “He sent a small store of medicine for her, as well as the instructions for its production. His hope was that she could prevail upon you for a small supply of dayflowers as well as a teacher who might guide her in cultivating her own plants.” He let them digest that unwelcome news. “Henri hoped Old Father might be willing to meet with her and discuss such an arrangement.”
Maven Sikyakookyang had set herself apart from Chinedu. Gone was the playful wife. This was the maven, poised to crush an invading pest before it devoured her people’s stores of precious plants.
Her shrewd gaze narrowed on me. “He speaks for you?”
My gaze touched on Asher. “He does.”
“Be wary during your time of mourning,” she said. “There are some who might take advantage.”
The flash of anger I felt on his behalf stunned me. He had done nothing to earn her ire.
I kept my tone civil. “Asher has been nothing but kind to me.”
“He is Mimetidae.” Her lips pursed. “They pull what is needed from their bag of tricks.”
My mouth opened on a suggestion of what she could pull from where.
A Veil of Secrets Page 5