Weaving Words

by Knox, Kim

  Servants stopped before the queen and before her. From the corner of her eye, Vara saw the queen nod and the young boy lifted the domed lid. The rich scent of roasted meat drifted on the warm air and her mouth started to water. Vara focused. She nodded at the boy who strained to hold up the platter.

  Thick slices of meat, steaming and with a dark sauce running over each slice, sat on the platter. Another servant offered her utensils. Kaede’s words burned back into her brain. Pile his plate with meat. So that was what she did, heaping it onto his golden platter until he held up his hand for her to stop.

  He speared a small slice and dropped it onto her plate.

  Vara kept her face straight. Annaliese had put up with that for five years? That had to be a reason for her to work like a demon to rid herself of the man.

  Root vegetables followed, Tarou deigning to pass on the most wizened morsel. Vara now wanted to stamp on his foot, her safety be damned.

  She willed herself to be calm. The queen had taken a sip of wine, so she felt herself safe to follow her example. With the cup to her mouth, she let her eyes find Kaede. He still stood beside the great curving jamb of the fireplace. Most of him was lost to shadow, but she wanted to imagine that she could see the quick, assured movement of his mouth.

  He had said he had no clue how long this would take. She swallowed the wine in her mouth and put the cup back on the table. Tarou ate with single-minded intent. Vara cut out a small square of meat and popped it into her mouth, chewing slowly.

  She almost sighed.

  She glanced at he king as he started to cough. He flicked his fingers to his queen, who passed him a cup. Tarou stopped chewing, swallowed and put down his cutlery. “Majesty?”

  “I’m fine.” He took a gulp of wine, tried to swallow, but then sprayed it out over his food. He slammed back into his chair, his face scarlet. His fingers scrabbled at his throat.

  Tarou leapt out of his seat. “Majesty?” He flicked a glance back at Vara and a blast of icy fear shot down her spine. He thought this was her doing. “Call for my physician! Now!”

  The king’s eyes widened, his mouth gaping as he tried to force air into lungs. Hoarse heaving filled the room. Tarou tried to support him, another very young man holding him up. “Highness, we must get him to the balcony, fresh air might—”

  Vomit splashed down over the flagstones, the king panicking and fighting the men who tried to drag him out to the balcony. Vara followed the queen. She knew a poisoning when she saw it. She and Kaede would pay for this.

  The cool mountain air did nothing for the king. His breathing came in ragged gasps now, sweat slick across his face, soaking his neck. His son cradled him in his lap, stroking shaking hands over his wet hair.

  Tarou glared at Vara. He strode toward her, gripping her arm. “What did you do?”

  Vara winced at the bite of his fingers into her muscle. “Me? I didn’t do this.”

  His dark gaze bore into her and his voice rasped close to her ear. “Did you think to go ahead and then poison me?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “You and the witch will die,” he growled. “Right now.” He pulled his dagger from the sheath at his hip and pressed it hard under the tight binding of her belt. The sharp tip pressed low into belly her and she hissed at the sudden pain.

  Damn it, she had to buy time for Kaede, time for him to finish his weave. She made a pointed glance towards the dying king. “Do you really think now is the time?”

  “They have to blame someone for this.” The knife twisted and Vara bit down a pained gasp. “And I think, lady, it will be you.”

  Vara kicked out at his shin, jerking back from the stab of his blade. Tarou grunted and released her arm. Anger blazed in his eyes.

  “Who are you?”

  Her smile was sharp. There was little point in hiding and if she distracted him, he wouldn’t think about Kaede. “Captain Vara Haradt.” She saluted and watched him frown. “Temple soldier to Emperor Aler of Waen. It’s an honour to meet you, Lord Tarou.”

  “Lower your voice.” His own was just above a growl. “Are you insane?”

  “Quite probably. But being dragged out of your own body will often do that, I’m told.”

  Light flashed over the blade in his hand. “Time for you to die again.”

  “Lord Tarou! The king!”

  The queen’s panicked voice distracted him and Vara knocked the knife from his hand. It clattered to the stone flags and she kicked it into the shadows. Tarou jabbed a finger at her. “You can’t run.”

  He knelt beside the king, his hand pressed against his wet, withered neck. He closed his eyes and his head fell. He swayed. Sweat broke out on his forehead. For a few seconds, he was silent. His dream had died with the king, Vara knew he’d just realised it. “He’s gone, Majesty, I’m sorry.” Tarou pulled himself away and bowed low before the young man still cradling the king’s head. “Your Majesty.”

  Vara edged towards the door. Something felt…wrong. What the hell was keeping Kaede? She risked a glance through the open doors. Men blocked the view, expressions anxious. She didn’t blame them. They had just witnessed the murder of their king. Everyone was suspect.

  The sour burn in her gut had her pushing through the crowd of men. The fire still spat and cracked, but there was no one standing in the smoky shadows beside the fireplace. Panic had heat firing through her muscles. Where was he? She ran around the table…and stopped.

  There, his body crumpled on the floor. Her chest constricted and it was suddenly hard to breathe. She fell to her knees and stretched out a hand to stroke his smooth face. He was warm to the touch. Her trembling fingers slid lower and she hunted for a pulse. Pressing her fingers against a vein, she held her breath. Nothing. Nothing for too many of her own straining heartbeats. He was… She closed her eyes against the pain tearing up through her gut.

  He was dead.

  “Lady.”

  She stared down at solid boots and willed back the surge of grief. Selfish as it was, she still had her own life to think about. She took a steadying breath. “Yes?”

  “His Majesty, King Botan requests your presence.”

  Polite, but it wasn’t really a request, it was an order. Vara pushed herself to her feet and smoothed down the creasing in the white silk. She twitched a smile at the liveried servant. “Lead on, sir,” she murmured.

  She watched him turn and fell into step behind him.

  Tarou had kept his promise. He had declared her the poisoner of the old king. Shit.

  Chapter Nine

  The servant led her through the dark, torch-lit corridors, their pace formal and unhurried. Vara tried to focus her mind, think how she was going to talk her way out of this one. If Tarou had said that she killed the king, he was fair game too. They’d execute her for murdering the king. But she would be sure to tell all about Tarou’s plans.

  Her gut tightened. She had no one else to protect.

  Guards saluted at a set of double doors. Her hand lifted without thought, and she caught it in her hair before she committed to the full salute. One of the men narrowed his eyes at her. She was sure she could blame witnessing the king’s death as an explanation for her odd behaviour.

  The doors opened and the servant strode ahead. Vara followed him into the dimly lit room.

  “The Lady Annaliese Gaute of the House of Sang, Majesty.”

  “Thank you, Solada,” came a young voice from the thick shadow. “You may leave us.”

  “Yes, Majesty.” He delivered another low and immaculate bow and backed out of the open doors. The guards pulled the doors shut and the room sank into further darkness.

  Vara tried to control the rapid hammering of her heart. She breathed slow and deep, needing to find her calm centre. She blinked as light flared in a lantern. It spread a golden warmth around the small room, illuminating a large table, padded chair and rows of leather-bound books and curled scrolls. Vara had the urge to slip into the comfort of a military stance, but she willed
her body loose and informal.

  Behind the desk sat the new young king. He slumped in the padded chair and let his head fall back against the smooth, worn leather. He could be no more than seventeen, but there was an unexpected maturity in his young features and Vara’s skin itched. Dark eyes narrowed at her and unexpected fear slid cold down her spine.

  “What’s your name?”

  Vara blinked. “The Lady Annaliese Gaute, Majesty.”

  A smile pulled at his mouth and there was something harsh there. “Your real name.”

  Had Tarou told them about who she really was? But then Kaede had said resurrection was an illegal act. Revealing it would have him dead too. “I—”

  “Is the witch dead?”

  Anger burned through Vara’s uncertainty. “Yes.”

  The king closed his eyes and a slow breath eased from him. “It is done.”

  Her hands clenched into tight fists. “You killed him? How?”

  The boy opened one eye. It gleamed in the lamplight. “Seems I chose wisely.” He sat forward and the golden light warmed his young features, taking yet more years off him. “You had sex with him, didn’t you?”

  The bright burn of anger in her gut flared. What did this boy want from her? “That is none—”

  “You did.” His smile was bright and satisfied. “Just as I planned.”

  “What?” She’d had enough of it. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to take the Sang strongbox, put it on Tarou’s best carriage and leave the kingdom.”

  Vara blinked. “Why?”

  “Because I’m blaming you for the old king’s murder, but I have no proof, so I’m banishing you.”

  Something felt…off…about the proposal and Vara didn’t know why. Exhaustion sat on her. It was so hard to think. She willed herself to focus. Yes, she should grab at what he offered. Her life and all the money she could carry, how could she argue with that? She winced. She hardly believed she was about to ask, “Why are you being so lenient?”

  Botan lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing. “You’ll have a passenger.”

  “A passenger?”

  “Your husband.”

  Vara’s gut cramped. She needed a weapon. He’d try to kill her as she opened the carriage door. “Lord Tarou.”

  “I’ve banished the House of Sang.” He stood and straightened his long tunic. The gold threads gleamed in the soft light, catching on the ivory handle of a dagger strapped to his waist. “That includes Tarou, lady.”

  Vara thought about taking the dagger and knew that would be suicidal. “I need something with which to defend myself.”

  “From your loving husband? I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  The inflection stabbed at Vara’s tired mind. A twist of hate lurked in the young king’s eyes. Her stomach dropped as realisation hit her. It wasn’t the queen. Annaliese had pushed herself into the body of the crown prince. And now she was the king. “You…”

  Botan held up his hand and stopped her words. “I’m just a young man, fit, healthy. My father,” he sighed, “rest his soul, was frail and so very old. But at least he died with his family around him. And he always had a special place in his heart for Lord Tarou.

  His eyes narrowed and he closed the distance between them. He leaned in close and his whisper itched her ear. “Keep this body and your offspring safe. Don’t ruin the work of years. The House of Gaute may yet rule this kingdom.”

  Vara backed away. “You want…”

  Botan moved close again and pressed a smooth hand to the constricting belt covering her belly. “Our legacy.”

  Vara blinked. “How did you do all of this?”

  The young king stepped back and leaned against the edge of the heavy desk. His fingers tapped the dark surface. “You’re from the North, aren’t you, lady?” Botan looked up and his dark gaze gripped her. She could only nod. “I’ve heard wild tales from your homeland. Tales of wolf-men and their holy woman. A holy woman who grew tired of mountain life and ached for more than snow and stinking pelts.” He glanced around the room with its flickering golden shadows. “Ached to have a taste of real power.”

  Her gut cramped and nerves crawled under her skin. The wolf who’d caught her had said they obeyed only one woman. Was that woman Annaliese? It would explain her unknown power, one Kaede had never felt.

  Kaede. Grief surged and pain hollowed her chest. Annaliese had wanted him dead for her plan to succeed. “Kaede is dead. Why?”

  Botan smiled, something that looked like a young boy, but wasn’t. The power of Annaliese lurked in his gaze. “What a strange question, lady. He was a witch bound to your House. Though witches, I’ve heard, are useful, powerful tools.” He held up his hand to examine the king’s crest glittering on a jade-carved ring. “I’ve also heard that you northerners are a strange people. For true…happiness…only one woman fits one man.

  “It must be difficult to make such a fit. Years of hunting, planning so that you’re in the exact place at the exact time to make the needed connection.” Botan’s smile widened and something like dark humour edged it. “Even though you’re in exile, lady, you’ll have your—what’s the word?—mate, to live out your days.”

  He pushed himself away from the table and straightened. His face fell into the mask of a new young king, with no hint of the scheming woman possessing his body. “I’m being generous, lady. I’m sure there is no need to discuss this further.”

  Vara’s hand found the door and she tugged at it. Annaliese wasn’t risking the truth being overheard by anyone. And who would believe it, anyway? A lord’s wife, really the holy woman to a clan of wolf-men and practising an unknown magic had jumped into the body of the crown prince, poisoned the king and taken the throne.

  Vara’s stomach cramped and the pain of loss had her throat tight. Annaliese had set her wolf-men on a rampage though a northern temple to secure one particular soul, a soul that could snare a witch. The new boy king had planned everything, even down to Vara’s offspring, which would hold Annaliese’s blood, to rule after the boy she had stolen.

  No, Vara hardly believed it herself.

  She scrambled from the room, ignoring the knowing glances from the guards. Lantern light shone up from the courtyard, flickering a chink in the closed shutter. She pulled it back and stared down. Servants swarmed around a solid carriage, strapping boxes and guiding the team of horses into their harnesses. The animals stamped shod hooves against the flags, their breath steaming in the air.

  Annaliese wanted her safe, but she’d put Tarou in the carriage with her. It made no sense. That could only mean she wanted Tarou dead. Right now.

  Not a problem.

  Vara drew in a tight, cold breath. Annaliese had joked about Kaede being her mate, the one man meant for her. Had she needed Vara to have that connection to perform her magic? But Kaede was dead, killed by the new king. She couldn’t take her revenge, but she needed to spill blood. Vara’s hands balled into fists. Well, if Annaliese wanted her husband dead… She glanced back to the guards. “Give me your dagger.”

  The men straightened, the younger of the two blinked. “Lady?”

  Vara snapped her fingers. “Now.”

  The younger guard looked to the other, who gave a slow nod. He pulled the weapon free of its sheath and handed it to her, hilt first.

  “Thank you,” Vara murmured. She turned from them and tucked the blade inside her loose sleeve. She yanked at the ties holding her padded belt and grunted when they came free. Throwing the hated thing into the thick shadows of the corridor, she turned down the stairs.

  She’d kill Tarou and then go…where?

  North? She had no family and her comrades were wolf-food. She straightened. She’d have money and good horses. Worrying about her destination would come later.

  Vara stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Servants still bustled in and out of the hall, securing the trunks to the carriage. Chilled air wrapped around her, bringing with it the stink of horses. She shivered, but the hard
grip on the dagger warmed her. She moved forward, weaving between the distracted servants.

  Tarou stood silent at the open carriage door. His hands were fists at his side, his sharp face cold, tight. His gaze had fixed on the upper level of the lodge. Vara edged closer, taking advantage of his distraction.

  The thought hit her that it shouldn’t be this easy as she pressed the blade hard against his spine. The toughened tunic stopped the deep thrust of the dagger. Damn guard, the thing was practically blunt. Vara cursed as he whipped away from her.

  “You!”

  “Thought the king had me in the dungeon?” Her smile was sharp. “I have more to offer than you suspect.”

  The servants had stopped, and were staring at the gleaming dagger in her hand.

  Tarou’s mouth thinned. “We should take this somewhere private.”

  Vara flexed her hand around the hilt. She was a captain to the Emperor Aler. She could take this pompous lord. “Here’s fine.”

  “Vara…”

  Her name was no more then a light breath and it itched her spine. She held down the need to shiver. What game was Tarou playing now? Did he want her as an ally now? “What do you really want from me, Tarou?”

  He stepped back and his face slid into a hard mask. “In private, lady.”

  “The stables.” She flicked the dagger at him. “You first.” She followed him into the whitewashed, vaulted room. Stable boys hurried out of their way and Vara’s glare had them pushing shut the heavy double doors. The air stank of damp horse, dung and wet straw. Vara stood with her back to the wall, watching Tarou as he paced before the empty stalls. “I’m waiting,” she said.

  “Your soul has been swapped into the body of the Lady Annaliese Gaute.”

  Vara stopped herself from rolling her eyes. She waved the knife at him. Her body ran on panic, fear and grief. She was exhausted. With Tarou dead, she could escape. “Get to the point.”