by Knox, Kim
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
About the Author
Look for these titles by Kim Knox
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
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Weaving Words
Copyright © 2008 by Kim Knox
ISBN: 1-60504-190-4
Edited by Laurie Rauch
Cover by Anne Cain
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: September 2008
www.samhainpublishing.com
Weaving Words
Kim Knox
Dedication
To Kell and Jess. Thanks!
Chapter One
The corpse’s heart juddered and then began to pump fresh, slow blood through its decaying veins.
“Not decaying any more,” Kaede murmured.
“What was that, witch?”
Kaede ignored his lord’s question. His eyes stayed with the body on the altar, watching as the blood flushed the exposed skin not covered by its simple white funeral shift. “Nothing, lord.” His fingers dipped into the liquid gold, sweeping intricate symbols over her face and neck. The symbols writhed and Kaede snatched his fingers away. He winced. These were the final rushes of power. She was almost there, almost returned to bright life. Almost. He risked a look to the arched entrance of the ancient cavern. Light edged over the sky in a soft pale grey. It was only dawn. That knowledge had tiredness eating into his bones.
Had he only been bonded to her for a few hours? It felt like forever.
For the hours of darkness, he had stood over the Lord Tarou’s dead wife and worked his skill. A skill he shouldn’t have, and certainly not one his lord should know about. The shadows cast by the twisting patterns covering the woman’s skin danced over the cavern wall. Kaede kept his gaze fixed on his gold-smeared fingers. Tarou knew what he was and that scared him more than bringing a dead woman back to life.
How had his lord known?
Kaede’s jaw tightened. He knew his mother had to have talked in her final hours. Tarou had presided over her interrogation, obviously wrung secrets from her. The old soured anger swelled again, tasting bitter on his tongue, but he cut out those thoughts. They had no place in his head. He had a job to do.
He forced his gaze back to the woman’s face—her features calm and delicate even as she fought her way back to life. He hoped the Lord Tarou knew what he was doing. His wife couldn’t be that vital to him. The rumours ran that she was only a bartered woman from a wealthy Northern family. She had no connections, no special talents. To risk a resurrection was insane. Kaede said a silent prayer for his own soul.
Her lips parted. Dry. Cracked. With a cry, her spine arched away from the cold slab of the altar, her limbs twisting. Kaede grabbed at her arms, and held her down as her soul clawed its way back into her body. The witch willed all of his strength into keeping her still. Her soul had to settle. That fact the scrolls had stressed, stressed in blood and bone.
“Witch, what is happening?”
Kaede gritted his teeth. “She is almost back with us, lord.”
She shrieked, the cry piercing Kaede’s heart. That hadn’t been in the scrolls. A soul was supposed to crave the touch of its body. But he couldn’t panic. Not now.
She fell limp to the stone in a sudden rush. Kaede fell forward, pushing hard against her arms. She groaned. He released his tight grip and took support from the raised lip of the stone dais.
Her breathing was slow, even and there was a slight, living flush to her cheeks. The Lady Annaliese was the most beautiful woman in the king’s court. Kaede’s eyes flicked to the hovering lord. He stood taut, grim, his stark face intent in the candlelight. Tarou wanted more than just his pretty wife. It was there in his narrowed, black gaze, the whitened fingers that gripped the dagger at his hip.
Kaede stared back at Annaliese, watched as her eyelashes struggled to release the oil clogging them. He’d assumed that she was just the vacuous smile gracing Lord Tarou’s arm. He’d seen nothing special in her. Nothing at all.
Kaede rubbed gently at the muck and oil the ceremony required, erasing it from her skin in the reverse of how he had drawn it. With a final Word, the ash circle protecting them both swirled into the air and vanished.
Her eyes flickered open. They were a dark blue—evidence of her Northern Clan. There was no focus, just wild fear. Kaede blinked. He had never seen that before, none of the lords’ wives showed any emotion other than perfect serenity and happiness.
“Lady?” Kaede whispered, bending to catch sound from her parched mouth. His hand gripped the dais, helping to support his exhausted body.
Her lips moved and there was a rush of nonsensical syllables. She searched his face for understanding and her panic grew.
Pulling in his control, Kaede pressed his thumb into her forehead and forced out tired Words, grimacing at the pull of them in his flesh. He murmured a silent prayer, needing his final spell to work. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe—
“What is this place? Who are you? Why…” She reached up to tug at his thin, silver robe. Kaede lurched over her as she caught him by surprise. He stared at her as her voice faded away. A knot tightened in his stomach. What had he done? He’d failed. That failure would see her dead again. And him right along with her.
“Is she well, witch?” Tarou demanded, pushing forward to stand beside his silent wife. Annaliese simply stared at her moving fingers, examined her palm, ignoring her husband.
“Yes, lord.” Kaede pushed back the hood of his robe and held the woman’s staring eyes. “The resurrection was successful.” The lie soured his mouth.
Tarou’s dark gaze narrowed and the telltale muscle jumped in his jaw. The one his household had come to fear. Kaede’s heart tightened and he willed his expression calm. His mother had drilled him daily in the art of his blank mask from when he was a small boy. It had saved him more than once.
“You don’t sound confident, witch Kaede.”
“Lord, your wife is alive and whole.”
Tarou’s gaze bore into him and Kaede fixed his face in stone, controlled his breathing. “Your position in my household depends on this, witch. I want you to prove that you are as fine as your mother.” His stern mouth quirked upwards. “Before she failed me, of course.”
Kaede pushed down the dangerous surge of emotion. He could not physically harm Lord Tarou, even though the man had his mother put to death. Ancient Words, spoken almost a thousand years before, would tear him apart. Tarou was the lord and master of his household, with the ultimate right of life or death over everyone bound to him. “Yes, lord,” he murmured, bowing his head. “I work tirelessly in service to you. The Lady Annaliese has returned to us.”
Kaede stared at her as she lay on the dais. For a moment, he thought he caught something in her eyes, a flash of sharp and wary intelligence. It had to
be a false flicker of candlelight as she turned a soft, vacant look back to her husband.
Kaede wanted to wipe the sweat from his forehead, from his neck, but he had to remain calm.
Tarou snapped his fingers at a terrified girl, who jumped forward. “Dress your lady.”
The mute girl nodded and offered her assistance to the Lady Annaliese. She gripped the young girl’s hand and, in a surprisingly fluid movement, the lady dropped to the floor. Annaliese straightened and squeezed the girl’s hand. She rubbed at her mouth, her throat, and flicked a glance to Kaede, where her gaze stayed.
He felt the look to his toes and shifted uneasily. Tarou’s wife had never looked at him before, never really looked at him. A witch was beneath her. His heart punched his chest. He was the first to look away, his gaze dropping to the floor.
“I should—” Kaede shuffled backwards, needing to get away, to stand in the fresh air and gain a scrap of calm.
“Stay with her, witch.” Tarou stopped at the entrance to the cavern, a dark silhouette in the grey light. He took a sheaf of paper from his hovering aide, turning it away from the darkness of the cave to read it. He didn’t look up as he said, “If she’s fragile you must work to keep her alive. I have to make ready for the hunt and then the banquet.”
“Yes, lord.”
Kaede stopped shuffling. Tarou stood with his guards at the cave mouth, leaving him alone with Annaliese and her maid. Kaede stared out of the cavern. He needed to ignore the two women standing behind him as the maid painted her lady’s face and curled her hair in gold. Tarou trusted him with his wife. He scrubbed at his damp neck. The truth was his lord didn’t see him as a threat. Any inappropriateness would see Kaede torn apart by the Sang family’s ancient blood oath.
The lake stretched out beyond the cave, washing in cold air, heavy with the scent of mud and willow. The empty grey sky reflected in the waters below. Mist clung to the banks, twisting in the morning winds and there was only the sound of the slowly rippling water and the rasp of Tarou’s deep voice.
The guards stood facing the lake, their spines straight, hands on sword hilts.
Dread was a sour knot in Kaede’s gut. This was insane. What the hell was he going to do?
“Witch?”
“Lady?” He turned without thought…and stared. Stupid courtesy. He couldn’t utter another word. Annaliese stood before him completely naked, candlelight glowing in flickering gold over her pale curves. Her dark hair curled in tantalising twists over her breasts. Heat surged through his body and straight for his penis.
Panic hit him and his gaze leapt up to her face, his heart pounding. What was he doing? Tarou would carve holes in him for seeing his wife naked. He caught the slight curl of a smile on her painted mouth and her blue eyes sparked bright.
Kaede swallowed, his throat tight, and willed down his unexpected reaction. It didn’t happen to a witch. Not like this. That was the real reason his lord trusted him with his wife. A witch reacted to only one woman, the woman destined to be his mate, and the Lady Annaliese Gaute wasn’t her. Couldn’t be. “How…how can I help you, lady?” He cursed the stumbled words.
“Don’t you like what you see?” Her words were no more than a soft whisper. Annaliese stared down at her body as the maid knelt beside her. Annaliese lifted her leg, her thigh straight, and pointed her toes. The young girl pushed on the white silk sock. The lady’s balance was perfect. “So smooth,” she ran a hand over her waist, her hip, “so soft. Yet with a truly surprising strength, don’t you think?”
“Was that your question, lady?” His voice was still no more than a croak. The white silk rolled over the curve of her calf… With a kick to his chest, he realised what else he was looking at. Heat scorched his face and he stumbled back, but he couldn’t turn away, not now. Shit. Stupid, stupid courtesy. “Yes, I believe you are all of those things.”
He started to turn away as the maid tied the ribbons mid-thigh. Annaliese changed legs.
“I should add supple, too.”
Kaede silently cursed her. She was doing it deliberately. “Yes.” He grated out the word in an urgent whisper.
“All in all, a very interesting new body.”
Kaede stared at her and closed the distance between them. The scent of her perfumed skin hit him and he held down a groan. Had he brought back a mad woman? He willed himself to look back at Tarou and found him poking a hard finger into the chest of his cowering aide. His panic dulled, until he remembered the hovering servant girl. “Lady…” His gaze shot to the young maid unfolding undergarments from a leather box, her back to them both. “I don’t think—”
“We’re safe with her.” Annaliese had followed his gaze. “The poor girl can neither speak nor hear.” Her mouth twisted and a hardness settled in her gaze. “The perfect servant.”
“How could you know that? You’re not…” He waved his hand at her, still unable to admit the dangerous truth. He stepped back and schooled his expression as the maid returned. With a small smile, she held up a thin white tunic. Annaliese put out her arms and slid it over her head. The maid fastened the tunic ribbons under her breasts and returned to the box for more clothes.
“She watches my mouth. So…” She smoothed the rumpled silk of the tunic, pushing it down so that it safely fell beyond the top of her thigh. Kaede found himself able to breathe again. “What did you do to me, witch?”
“You…the Lady Annaliese…was dead. I resurrected her.” He winced. “You.”
“Resurrected.” She stepped into the offered loose trews. The maid took the wide cord and cinched it around her waist. Annaliese hissed. “Interesting.” She watched the maid return to the leather clothes box as she smoothed down the tunic again. “The last thing I remember is running up stone stairs.” Her gaze turned inwards and Kaede wished he could see into her thoughts. “A temple tower. And it was cold, icy cold. Snow gusted in through the windows.”
“Snow?” The word was strangled. He flicked a glance back to his lord. Tarou towered over the small, cowering man. Kaede wanted to feel pity, but at that moment, he could only be glad it wasn’t him. “You’re from the far north?”
But she couldn’t answer. Her maid had turned back to them, holding up a gold-embroidered scarlet robe. Obediently, Annaliese slipped her arms in and watched the young girl settle the fabric with skill over her shoulders. She wrapped the robe around Annaliese’s body and held it in place. Pulling a thin belt from over her shoulder, she secured the robe.
Kaede held back his impatience. They must appear normal in front of the entire household. With the final wide, blood-red belt tied around her waist, Annaliese stepped into her delicate black slippers.
The woman before him was the one Kaede had seen gliding around the third ring of the palace. Beautiful, stately with the sparkle of gold dust on her cheeks. However, there was another look in her eyes, a sharp intelligence that had never sat there before.
The maid packed up her bag and looked to her mistress for orders.
Annaliese waved her hand towards the cavern’s entrance. “Go to my rooms, please.”
The young girl glanced at Kaede, fear and confusion in her dark eyes, before she bowed and scurried away through the open iron door leading up to the Lodge House. He watched her leave, waiting before he turned back to Annaliese.
Kaede moved close again. They only had a short time now before Tarou would want to return to the lodge. “What is your real name?”
Annaliese dug her hand into her side, twisting against the tight pull of the final belt. “How did she wear this bloody thing?”
Kaede pinched at the bridge of his nose. Hard. “Damn it, lady, if this mistake is found out, both of us are dead.”
“Yes, I thought that was probable.” She straightened and pushed her hair from her eyes, grimacing as the ornate curls of thin gold caught on her fingers. “I only know that my name is Vara. Nothing else.” She gave him a short smile. “I remember a tower, snow,” she stared down at her shimmering robe, “and a leat
her cuirass.” Vara turned over her hand, stretching her palm. Her brow furrowed. “I should have sword calluses.”
“You’re a soldier.” He waved at her, at her clothes, her hair. “Are you…erm…female?”
Vara gave a soft laugh. “Are you worried, witch Kaede?” Her gaze slid down to his breeches and he stopped his hands moving to cover himself. The soft scent of her chamomile perfume wrapped around him. His penis twitched and he held down a curse. “I can’t pretend that I didn’t notice your reaction to this body. Were you and she…?”
Kaede shook his head and tried not to notice the glitter of gold edging her cheek, the way it sparkled in her wicked eyes. “No.” He straightened. His lack of control made no sense. Annaliese Gaute had married his lord five years before and she had never once affected him. “And this is inappropriate.”
“Really?” Her warm breath brushed his neck, her tongue-tip tracing along the underside of his jaw. He hissed and stumbled back from her. She grinned. “I’d call that inappropriate.”
They were dead. Tarou would take one look at his smirking wife, demand a sword from his guard and slice her head off himself. His lord would save the Seven Words for him. “You were brought back for a reason.” Kaede forced his mind to focus and push from his thoughts the need to have this new Annaliese hard up against the cavern wall, showing her how inappropriate he could be. Even with Tarou standing only yards away. “And I don’t know what that is. I have my books, I’ll try to find out more about what…you…were trying to do. Why he’s risking resurrection.”
“Yes, he,” she nodded towards the lake, “doesn’t seem the doting husband.”
Kaede couldn’t look back, afraid of what she would do if he turned his back on her. “He’s not.”
“We have a problem.” She hitched her belt around her waist and smoothed back her robe. “I’m ready to go, Kaede. It’ll look suspicious if we delay too long.”