by Sara Douglas
What he had discovered was that, no matter the exterior she showed to the world, Ishbel was very vulnerable and very sad.
He had discovered that she didn't have the mark of the Coil anywhere on her body.
And Maximilian had discovered that he wanted this woman for his wife.
It was not so much her physical beauty--Ishbel was a lovely woman with her mass of dark blond hair,
her soft hazel eyes, translucent skin, and strong lithe body--but her quietness of movement that attracted Maximilian. StarWeb had said that Ishbel was very unquiet, but her movements about the room had been so soft, so simple, so contained, that Maximilian thought that she would be a very peaceful woman to have at his side.
If he could ever trust her, and if she could ever forgive him this inexcusable intrusion into her privacy.
He moved, breathed just a little more heavily, disturbed the shadows clinging to him, and Ishbel instantly realized his presence.
She leapt to her feet, staring at him, and Maximilian very slowly unfolded his arms, straightened up from the wall, and stepped forward.
"Ishbel--"
"You are Maximilian."
He came to a halt some three or four paces from her and gave a slow nod, his eyes not leaving hers. She was angry and hurt and frightened, and he was surprised by none of those. He was also intrigued: she had not taken a step back at his approach, and, even with her knowing who he was, he would have expected that.
"How long have you been standing there?"
"Since you entered," Maximilian said.
She drew in a long breath, her eyes huge, her face paling, then suddenly flaring in color.
"Yes," Maximilian said, "you may think all those things of me, and more. My behavior has been inexcusable, but necessary."
"Why?" The word was shot at him, almost hissed.
"Because I needed to see you for who you are, without any artifice."
"And for that you used all the artifice you could muster."
He tilted his head, conceding the point, his eyes still locked onto hers.
"I am sorry you are so very alone here," he said, and that sympathy accomplished what his previous words had not.
Her eyes flooded with tears, and her shoulders sagged. She half turned away from him, a hand over her mouth.
"Can we talk?" Maximilian said. He had taken a step closer to her.
"No. Go away."
"It is better we talk now, than be forced to talk before our assembled retinues at our `official' meeting at my `official arrival' in three days' time. Far better we talk now, Ishbel." He took another step closer.
"Go away!"
"Ishbel..." Now Maximilian was very close, and she turned back, ready to throw off his hand.
But he was standing again as he had been when first she'd seen him, arms folded, leaning this time against the high post at the end of the bed.
"Why do you want to marry me?" he said.
"I don't." Ishbel was too tired, and still too shocked by Maximilian's appearance, to dissemble.
"Then why are you here?"
"Because the Coil told me to come. They were the ones who insisted I marry you."
"Why?"
A small hesitation. "I don't know." And that was only a small white lie, Ishbel thought. She had no idea at all why the Great Serpent thought marriage to this man would make a difference.
"They are prepared to offer me you and all your riches...just because..."
"I have never questioned the way of the Coil," Ishbel said, relieved that a measure of dignity had crept back into her voice.
He smiled, and Ishbel was taken aback by the difference it made to his face. He had striking looks with his aquiline nose and deep blue eyes, but was somewhat forbidding (not even considering the circumstances of his arrival into her room). But his smile lit up his face and made his eyes dance with mischievousness.
"You were honest," he said. "Thank you. But you do realize," he went on, "that once married to you, I
will owe the Coil no debt? They have offered you, but I shall not be tied to them through that offering."
"They would not expect it."
"I am marrying you, not the Coil."
"I did not realize we had settled definitely on the marriage."
He smiled again, that slow, mischievous smile.
"And StarWeb?" Ishbel said, desperate to say something, anything.
He sobered immediately. "I apologize for StarWeb. She took matters too far. She--"
"She took matters as far as you gave her license."
"I wanted to push you. To see if--"
"You have almost pushed me too far," Ishbel said very softly.
"Then take my hand," he said, holding out his left hand, "and let me pull you back from the brink."
She waited a full five heartbeats, wishing she had the strength and the resources to clasp her hands behind her back and step away from him. Then, with a soft sigh of resignation, Ishbel offered up her hand.
Maximilian clasped it in his, then jerked a little, his eyes widening.
In that instant, as his flesh touched hers, Maximilian's entire world tipped on its axis. Gods! He had expected everything but this!
Ishbel might bear the name Brunelle, but she carried within her the ancient bloodlines of Persimius.
Maybe she did carry with her the ancient, lost memories!
While Maximilian's mind and heart were in turmoil, his calm exterior returned virtually instantaneously.
"I seem to have arrived most unexpectedly," he said, "and do not have a place for the night. May I sleep in your bed, my Lady Ishbel Brunelle?"
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Pelemere, Central Kingdoms
Ishbel allowed him to do what he wanted, for two reasons. First, the Great Serpent had told her to allow nothing to stand in the way of this marriage, and Ishbel supposed that refusing Maximilian here might anger him enough to withdraw his offer. But the principal reason Ishbel allowed Maximilian to lead her slowly, gently, toward the bed was that he overwhelmed her utterly. She had expected to find a man who was...tedious. Someone she might regard with contempt. Nothing she'd heard had prepared her for the sheer presence and, she had to admit it, charm, of the man. She was tired and emotionally overwrought,
but she could use neither of these states as an excuse.
Ishbel was simply incapable of refusing him.
Besides, when he'd touched her, something had happened. He had been shocked for a moment, and she...well, there had been something...enough, when combined with everything else, to strip Ishbel of all resistance.
He led her to the bed, took her face in gentle hands, and kissed her.
Ishbel struggled momentarily, then relaxed, again succumbing to whatever presence it was that Maximilian commanded. She allowed him to unclothe her (he had already witnessed her naked, what did it matter now?), and to run his hands and mouth over her body, and to bear her down to the bed and then, eventually, to mount and enter her.
It was not as abhorrent as she had expected. It was easier to relax and to allow his warmth and care to comfort her than it was to resist, or fear.
He was, she supposed, a good lover. She understood that he took great care with her, was infinitely gentle, and suffused their bedding with a self-deprecating humor that had her, unbelievably, smiling with genuine humor on one or two occasions.
There was some pain, a little discomfort, but mostly...an extraordinary sense of sinking into someone else's care. Ishbel had expected to feel used or violated, but Maximilian made her feel none of these things.
Everything about him was not what she had expected.
They lay in the dim light in silence for some time, then Maximilian propped himself on an elbow.
"You are such a mystery," he said. "Not what I expected."
"Neither are you what I expected," she said, a hint of dryness in her voice.
"Tell me about where you come from. Tell me about the Coil."
She tensed. "They
took me in and cared for me when no one else would. I owe them everything."
"Save your loyalty, for that you shall shortly owe me."
She turned her head and looked at him. "Of course."
"Of course," he echoed. "Ishbel, I need to know that when you become my wife, then your loyalty will be mine, not left lingering with a...a..."
"With what? A bunch of murderous soothsayers?"
"They do not provide the best family for any bride, Ishbel. Why did they send you to me?"
"I don't know."
Maximilian wondered if she was lying. He didn't know her well enough to tell. Did she understand the ancient mysteries, or had she no knowledge at all? She sounded genuine, but...
"All your estates and inheritances," he said, "to be given to me, along with yourself. Why? Surely there were greater and better alliances the Coil--"
"All I know is that Aziel, the archpriest, told me that the Great Serpent instructed him that we would make a good marriage, and that it would be good for the land."
"Ah..." For a moment Maximilian tried to believe that the only reason Light had sent Ishbel to him was to strengthen the Persimius line. It was a seductive and reassuring idea--that was the only reason Ishbel had come to him--but Maximilian knew he could not ignore the vision he'd had on the way to Pelemere.
"What about your family, Ishbel? The Brunelle family. Is Brunelle an Outlander name? Or an ꮩgr鍊from...somewhere else?"
"Outlander." Her voice and body were more relaxed now. "We have always been Outlanders."
"Hmmm. The family had no contact with Escator?"
"I was eight when I lost my family, Maximilian. I have no idea who my father corresponded with."
"I'm sorry. I am asking too many questions, but I want to understand you so much." He paused, one hand gently stroking her shoulder and upper arm. "Tell me about when you lost your family. When the plague struck and--"
"I'd rather not." Ishbel paused. "Not now. Sometime else, perhaps."
"Of course. We have, after all, a lifetime."
"And will you tell me about your time in the Veins, if I ask?"
"Yes, I will do that." Ishbel was very touchy, which Maximilian could understand given the circumstances of the night, and he also understood that further questions likely would not be a good idea, but he wanted desperately to know how much she understood about her bloodlines. Thus far she'd given no indication she understood anything, either about her Persimius heritage or about Elcho Falling.
"When I first received the offer of your hand from the Coil," Maximilian said, "I looked at a map of the Outlands to see where Serpent's Nest was. A mountain home, yes?"
"Yes."
"Right on the edge of the world," Maximilian said softly, watching Ishbel carefully.
"Serpent's Nest is on the east coastline of the Outlands," she said. "It is..."
"Yes?"
She shrugged. "I was going to say that it is my home."
"Was."
She did not reply.
"A mountain is a strange place for a home."
She sighed. "Maximilian..."
"I know, I'm sorry." He leaned over and kissed her softly. She did not return it, and he knew he had stayed long enough. Besides, it would be dawn soon, and he had a long ride ahead of him to rejoin Egalion and Garth and the Emerald Guard--all of whom were no doubt fretting about his continued absence.
"I have to go," he said. "I should be out of the house by dawn."
"You need to leave while the darkness still affords you cover," Ishbel said.
He hesitated a little before replying. "Yes. I shall tell you about that one day, if you want."
She nodded, not really knowing what to say, only wishing that having said he would go, he actually would. The thought of solitude brought her a rush of relief. Perhaps, then, she could finally relax and snatch a few brief hours of sleep.
As if in answer to her prayers Maximilian rolled away from her and rose from the bed. He hunted about in the dark for his clothes, dressed, then sat down on her side of the bed as he pulled on his boots.
Having buckled both boots, he sat still, looking at her. "I had no idea I would want you so much," he said. "I distrusted you and--"
"Still do," Ishbel said.
"Aye, yes, still do, although I distrust the motives of the Coil more. I shall be a watchful husband, Ishbel."
"We have not yet agreed on marriage, Maximilian."
He laughed, then leaned down and kissed her. "You must marry me, Ishbel. You have completely ruined my reputation with your seductions, and only marriage will save my name."
She smiled reluctantly, but with genuine humor.
Maximilian rose. "The King of Escator shall arrive with his full retinue in three days, Ishbel. He shall be gladder to see you than he had expected."
He took several steps to the door, hesitated, then strode back to the bed and kissed Ishbel one more time, hard. "Three days, Ishbel," he whispered, then left her.
Maximilian cloaked himself once more in the darkness, walking through the house undiscovered. Once in the stable, he located his horse's stall, then stood for a long moment, his forehead resting gently against the horse's neck, thinking.
Elcho Falling was more likely than not about to stir, and Maximilian needed to marry this woman and return to Escator. There to...well, there to see what happened next. If Elcho Falling was about to stir,
then Maximilian would need to be home in Escator.
Ishbel. Gods knows how they were blood-connected, or how many generations ago the Persimius family had splintered, but connected they most certainly were. Maximilian had not planned to seduce her. But having once taken her hand, he was unable to resist her. Partly this was their shared Persimius blood, but mostly it was the woman herself.
She was astounding. Maximilian replayed every moment of their lovemaking in his mind, remembering how she had felt beneath his hands and body, her scent and her taste. If, one day, she might respond to him with genuine passion...oh gods...what a day that would be.
His ring chattered softly, asking if they were leaving soon. It had been quiet all night, as Maximilian had instructed it when they'd entered the house, and now it was restless.
"Yes," whispered Maximilian. "Yes, we are leaving now."
After Maximilian had left, Ishbel slept.
She dreamed.
She walked through a hall that glittered with glass and color that spiraled in strange corkscrews far overhead.
She dreamed people filled this hall, tens of thousands of them, all standing back to allow her passage, all watching her.
She dreamed that she was filled with loss and sorrow, and in her dream she sobbed, because she knew what that sorrow portended.
In her hands she carried a goblet. It was heavy, made of exquisitely carved glass, with leaping frogs all about its outer rim.
It was a gift for the man who stood, his back to her, at the far end of the hall.
He was a dark man, and blackness seethed about him.
More than anything Ishbel wanted to turn and run, but her feet would not follow her command. Instead they carried her inexorably forward, until she stood before the man, and then her traitor legs bent beneath her, and she abased herself, and held out the Goblet of the Frogs to the Lord of Elcho Falling.
He turned his head a little, looking at her over his shoulder, and darkness and despair engulfed Ishbel's life.
Part Three
CHAPTER ONE
Pelemere, Central Kingdoms
Ishbel stood in the covered courtyard, listening to the approach of Maximilian Persimius, King of Escator. Maximilian had arrived in Pelemere the previous afternoon, received by King Sirus of Pelemere in two formal ceremonies: the first at the city gates, the second at the palace itself. Maximilian had then stayed at Sirus' palace overnight, being royally dined and entertained.
To none of these events had Ishbel been invited. She was still merely the Lady Ishbel Brunelle,
prospective
wife of the King of Escator, and until Maximilian formally accepted her as his bride, Ishbel was excluded from the royal receptions and entertainments. Today, however, having partaken of Sirus'
hospitality and having also, presumably, slept the night away in a luxurious apartment within the king's palace, Maximilian was paying a visit to the Lady Ishbel's house in order to meet her and, should that meeting prove satisfactory, perhaps open more personal negotiations for a marriage.
What a farce all this is, thought Ishbel, listening to the sound of horses' hooves and jingling bits getting closer. Four nights ago he spent the night in my bed, and here we must act as if we've never seen each other.
Ishbel had expected Maximilian might appear in her bedchamber last night as well. She'd spent virtually the entire night awake, watching every shadow, listening, waiting. But Maximilian had not appeared, and Ishbel supposed Sirus had provided more amusing entertainments for Maximilian.
Perhaps StarWeb was with him.
Ishbel was far more nervous than she liked. She didn't know how she would feel when she saw Maximilian again, and she had a tiny, niggling, horrible fear that when Maximilian rode into the courtyard it wouldn't be the same man she'd slept with a few nights ago.
Twisted in with all her anxiety and nervousness was a horrible sense of resentment: Had Maximilian spent last night with StarWeb? Was she going to have to share her husband with the birdwoman?
There were shouts from the guards at the gate now, and Ishbel barely had time to draw in a hasty,
shaking breath before Maximilian rode into the courtyard at the head of a retinue some twenty strong.
Dressed in a wine-colored velvet jacket quilted with seed pearls over dark leather breeches, he looked very different from the night he'd appeared in Ishbel's chamber. Very regal and, impossibly, even more certain of himself.