by Darby, Brit
“Who are you, woman, to say you will not allow my whims?” Emperor Leo looked outraged by her boldness.
“She is no one,” Gunnar growled before she answered. “Do not pay her any mind.”
Cailin ignored his interruption. “I am Cailin Talorcan, wife to this man you would execute.” She was aware of Drake’s gaze but focused on the emperor instead to keep her head.
Gunnar growled; the crowd went into a buzz. From the corner of her eye Cailin saw Kasimir, standing helpless among the throng of people, his eyes filled with dread at her actions. Sensing he was about to do something foolish, Cailin shook her head firmly to show he should not interfere.
“Many condemned men have wives, why should I care? The Pict shall pay for his crimes against Lady Zoe. I have the final say in all matters in my court. Not the wife of a slave.”
“The truth doesn’t matter? You care not what lies have been told, what deceptions practiced beneath your own roof?”
Again, a titter went through the onlookers. The emperor purpled to match his garb and looked as if he would explode.
“What lies?” Emperor Leo demanded.
“Your lady claims Drake raped her. It is a lie. She lures men to her bed often.” Cailin looked directly at Zoe, unflinching. “She has many lovers, lovers that all here are well aware of.”
Ignoring Zoe’s outraged gasp, her gaze moved back to the emperor himself. “I suspect you allow her wanton behavior because it amuses you. How many of her lovers have you turned a blind eye to?”
Cailin looked around at the finely dressed courtiers. She pointed at one. “There is her latest lover. Will you have his head lopped off as well?”
The man she indicated nearly collapsed as terror gripped him, his actions giving credit to her claim. But Cailin had already moved on to the next. “Then there is this man, one of your own guardsmen, who enjoys your lady’s particular predilections, I think, more often than not.”
As she walked in a circle, men shuffled uncomfortably beneath her gaze. “And yet another,” she pointed, moved on, and pointed again, “and another.”
Cailin whirled back around to the emperor and confronted the evil-eye of Zoe. “Have you not wondered which of your children may not be yours?”
“She lies!” Zoe finally found her voice, white-hot fury making her shake.
The emperor tried to comfort his flustered consort. “Guards,” he shouted above the din of confusion that had broken out, pointing at Cailin. “Seize her.”
Two guards came at her; Cailin threw off her cape and pulled her swords. A collective gasp went up that a someone dared take a stand and brandish weapons in the emperor’s presence. The fact she was a woman made it all the more outrageous.
“I demand I be allowed to prove the worthiness of my word.”
Even Gunnar stood stunned, unmoving. Drake and Leo struggled against the men who held them, but the chains kept them confined.
“Stop, Cailin. Do not be so foolish!”
Drake’s voice touched her but she refused to look his way and risk distraction. “I will fight any man you choose, and if I win, their innocence is proven and you will let them go. If I lose, well … I’ll be dead and you can do as you like, their guilt established by my failure.”
“I can do as I like now,” the emperor said indignantly.
“Yes, but the taint of my accusations will remain. The memories and whispers from this day will follow your noble family to the grave.”
At Cailin’s icy statement, Gunnar stepped forward and bellowed, “You have given the order for execution, why do you waste time listening to this madwoman’s ravings?”
Cailin countered, “You have given these men over to the emperor, have you not, Gunnar? I saw you well compensated, in fact. Therefore, you no longer have say in this matter.”
If a look could kill, Cailin would most certainly have crumbled beneath Gunnar’s stare, but he refrained from saying anything more. “I have challenged your sentence, Your Imperial Majesty, and stand ready to defend their honor.”
Emperor Leo considered her words, studying the faces of his courtiers. They looked eager for entertainment, hungry for blood sport. “We shall adjourn to the great arena. Then I shall allow your challenge to stand.”
The Varangian Guard stood down and Cailin bowed acceptance.
Chapter Twenty-nine
WHEN CAILIN TURNED TO prepare for battle, she saw Kasimir’s back as he made his way for the door. Most like he was going for reinforcements. Cailin couldn’t help but smile imagining the lowest of the underworld swarming to her aid.
That meant she had better make quick work of her opponent to keep such a thing from happening. She must not risk the lives of others, pirates or not.
While she was pulled along by the flood of commoners and courtiers headed to the arena on foot, the emperor and his imperial consort, and guards with their prisoners took a passageway that spirited them from palace to arena without exposing them to harsh sunlight or fresh air.
By the time Cailin and the rest of the crowd arrived, Emperor Leo was already comfortably ensconced in his seat in the Kathisma with his bejeweled consort, both now being furiously fanned by several slaves with palm fronds. Despite the fact it was winter, the day had turned unexpectedly warm, the humid air shimmering over the assembling crowd.
As she stepped into the dusty bowl of the arena, Cailin saw Drake and Leo kneeling at the royal couple’s feet above her in the cavea. She dared a long look at Drake, his mouth now gagged to keep him quiet. But his golden eyes said it all and her heart skipped a beat. He still struggled against his bonds and keepers as agony claimed him.
Cailin put her finger to her lips, shushing him. Without words she called out to him, telling him to quiet his thoughts, still his futile struggles. He had fought for her to the point of death; now that measure would be repaid. They were equals as well as lovers. Finally, she sensed his heart slowed and he calmed. She sought his Dragons, drawing their power to her. They melted into her soul, her heart, her mind; combining all into a single force. She witnessed his questions melt away, and in their stead remained a confident understanding. He nodded and closed his eyes as they became one.
Turning away, Cailin held onto three thoughts: her Dragons, her purpose, her battle.
Emperor Leo quieted the milling crowd, the numbers in the arena swelling as word quickly spread about the exciting events at court. Cailin thought it sad that such a thing would draw throngs. She remembered the fight she had witnessed between Drake and the other thrall, the bloodsport making even the meek clamor for death. Would it be the same here today? Would they cry out for her blood?
Certainly, Zoe would; the woman’s stare was unnerving. Zoe of the Coal-Black Eyes, Kasimir had called her. Determined, Cailin vowed she would allow nothing to disturb her inner calm.
Towering in the stands above the darker, shorter men of the court, Gunner’s expression was strange, as if he was torn by the turn of events. He could neither stop the fight nor change the outcome. He watched helplessly with the others. This fact seemed to make him unhappy.
Thyra too was present. Her appearance at Gunnar’s side initially surprised Cailin, but not for long. She had learned about it when the Dreki Logi arrived in the city. Tavo kept her well informed of all that went on in the Great City; there was little he did not know about, especially rumor of a beautiful but hard-looking woman in a blue cloak at the Viking’s side.
“Are you prepared to meet your challenger?”
The emperor’s voice echoed over the arena, commanding attention, and the buzz of the conversations quieted. Cailin nodded. A great bronzed door in the arena swung open with a clang and a man appeared, if she could dub him such. He was a giant, hands higher than even the Varangian Guard of Viking mercenaries. He looked Mongolian, his arms as big as trees, his chest broad and muscled. A dark mustache drooped down around his mouth and below his chin, giving him an even fiercer look. His irises were the same black as his pupils, and made him loo
ked half-mad as he studied her.
A lopsided smile split his face and he laughed, deep rumbles erupting and echoing off the marble and stone. He raised his arms to the crowd, turned in a slow circle in the dirt arena and continued to laugh, encouraging their mirth to mingle with his. “Tell me it cannot be true! I have been summoned to fight a little girl!”
When he circled back around to look at Cailin once again, the crowd’s laughter faded as they waited. “A little girl, with two little pinpricks called swords.”
Swaggering, he paused and looked up at the emperor and grinned toothily. “My liege, might I have the tiny swords when she is dead so I might pick my teeth?”
Emperor Leo chuckled, looking well-pleased with the crowd’s swelling excitement and the entertainment prospects of the day. “You may, Jagun.” He added in a shout for Cailin’s benefit, “We call the Mongol Jagun, for that is how many men he has killed for my pleasure thus far: one-hundred!”
Again, laughter echoed around the arena. Cailin heard, but did not listen. Her Dragons fired within, their might, their grace, their confidence enveloped her in flames. She did not move. The giant Jagun watched, waited. The crowd stilled so the drop of a pin might be heard.
She remained calm, her gaze locked with the giant’s.
“Come, little girl. Come and die,” Jagun taunted her.
THE MONGOL’S INVITATION FELL on deaf ears.
Jagun was quickly frustrated with her. “Bah,” he cried, glancing up at his emperor and waving a hairy fist impatiently. “There is no sport in fighting a little girl, great lord. Perhaps I should tie one hand behind my back to give her a sporting chance?”
Cailin spoke at last. “There is no need. Giant or no, you shall fall, as the mighty timber falls beneath the axe, bit by bit.”
“The little girl has courage,” Jagun said magnanimously to the audience, “and so beautiful, she is. What a shame she must die.”
Cailin smiled back and bowed slightly at his compliment, despite it being woven within a threat. “My Dragons say otherwise.”
“Dragons?” he barked. “I see no Dragons.”
From the corner of her eye, Cailin saw Thyra whisper something to Gunnar and he shouted the next snide remark, winning the crowd’s laughter. “Loki touched this one in the head; she believes she walks with Dragons at her side.”
The giant doubled over with laughter. “Little girl, are you touched in the head?”
“Can you not see them?” Cailin asked softly, drawing his amused eyes.
Jagun grew serious and drew himself up to his full imposing height with an irritated grunt. “Bah, I see only a little girl who plays silly games. I see no Dragons that will save you.”
“Here,” Cailin moved swift as a snake, throwing the swords in his direction. “Have a closer look.” One sword hissed by his head and thumped into the wooden wall of the arena behind him, then the second.
Startled, Jagun twisted around to see them buried deep into the wood. Glancing back at her, he broke into hysterical laughter again. “Little girl, you missed! And such a large target you had.”
The giant’s amusement continued as Cailin waited for him to calm. When he finally quieted, she said, “I never miss.”
In a flash, she lunged past Jagun, his thick arms grasping only air when she flew by. Cailin jumped, her right foot landing upon the lowest sword sunk into the arena wall, followed by the left foot on the second sword, launching herself into the air as the giant turned and grabbed again. She flipped over his head and onto his broad back, yanking the belt from her tunic and looping it about his throat. The crowd went wild, cheering and whooping at this exciting turn of events.
Like a monkey Cailin clung to Jagun’s back, the belt choking him. He tried to sling her off, but she clung tight, her dead weight giving her chokehold momentum. His fingers couldn’t pry the belt loose; his thick yet short arms couldn’t reach back far enough to grasp her. He struggled, howling, slamming back into the arena walls to try and dislodge her. Cailin withstood his thrashing assault and hung on for life like one who breaks a wild horse.
Jagun slowed, his movements more like those of a staggering drunk. His face grew red and then black, his eyes bulged. The giant swayed, back and forth, back and forth. He came crashing down, face first, Cailin still stuck to his back. Seeing he had blacked out, Cailin moved off his back, loosening the belt and returning it to her waist. She did not wish him dead.
No one moved in the arena stands above, everyone seemed frozen in place. Only Cailin moved when she went to the wall and yanked her swords free, then slid them into the scabbard upon her back. She calmly walked over to stand below the cavea where the astounded emperor and his consort now stood, both having jumped to their feet amidst the roar and confusion of the crowd.
Seeing Drake and Leo were still bound, Cailin shouted up at the guards to release them. She spoke the Norse they understood, her tone brooking no disobedience. Without even glancing at the emperor for permission, they obeyed.
Cailin addressed Emperor Leo and the furious Zoe next. “I shall take my leave now with my prizes, but I suggest you do not try and stop me. I will definitely bloody this arena should you refuse to honor our bargain. Tell the mighty Mongol this little girl is sorry if she hurt him. He yet lives; I do not think he would have been so merciful had it been me in his stead.”
Cailin turned to leave, then paused. “Oh, you might want to save your silver next time; you may have need of it to pay tribute soon to a warlord knocking at your city gates.”
“You cannot let them leave alive,” Zoe cried, looking angrily at the man beside her.
Emperor Leo shrugged. Aware of the audience listening and watching his actions closely, he decided public opinion was more important at the moment than placating a woman. He must appear to honor his word. Under his breath he muttered to her, “Patience, my dear. Once the crowd has dispersed, I will see this set right.”
As she walked from the arena, Cailin passed the silent Gunnar in the exiting throng. Glancing at him, she said, “Take my advice, Gunnar — take your whore Thyra and go far away. If I see you again, you will pay for your treachery.”
He grabbed her arm with a guttural growl and stopped her. Kasimir appeared out of nowhere in the crowd, poking a jeweled dirk into Gunnar’s ribs. Suddenly Gunnar saw many other men materialize, going against the tide of bodies leaving the arena, all within striking distance. They looked scruffy yet dangerous; he knew pirates and cutthroats when he saw them. Furious, he put his hands up, releasing Cailin and backing away. He looked as if he would say something, but for once, he showed restraint and did not.
Thyra was by Gunnar’s side and Cailin addressed her in passing. “I see that you did not become fodder for the winter wolves.” The look on Thyra’s face was not what Cailin expected, and she paused to consider it. She expected a nasty response, but some strange emotion lit Thyra’s eyes, something Cailin did not interpret clearly.
“Yet, I wonder if it would have been a kindness to die in such a way, rather than beneath a crueler hand,” Thyra murmured. She glanced at Gunnar, and for a second, Cailin saw fear in the woman’s eyes. Then it was gone. Had she only imagined it? Cailin would never know for certain, as Thyra turned away from her just as Kasimir tugged upon her arm. He drew her away with urgency in his steps.
“Sweet lady,” Kasimir whispered, “I think you make trouble on a grand scale. No?”
“On a grand scale,” Cailin agreed with a tense smile.
“WHERE IS CAILIN?” DRAKE demanded of the men who had taken him and Leo from the arena. They were now in a strange part of the city, a place unknown to him. Yet he knew it was definitely a place most people would not visit willingly, unless they were of the seedier, lawless nature.
“The lady Cailin asked you be given food and the chance to refresh yourselves. You look as if you could use both. I am Tavo.”
Drake studied the man who spoke, his look fierce, but his manner kind. There was no threat from any of their new
escorts, though they looked a motley lot well-versed in the ways of a hard life. Still, Drake wasn’t certain what to do. Seeing Cailin again was the most wonderful feeling he had ever experienced, despite the horror of watching her battle the Mongolian brute. He wanted only to make certain she was all right, hold her in his arms again.
As if sensing his distress, the man called Tavo spoke again. “Your lady will join you later. There is business to attend. We have only a few hours. We cannot delay if we are to set sail on the tide.”
“I do not understand.”
“You are still in great danger, you must leave the city. Quickly.”
“With whom do we sail? Where are we destined?”
Tavo smiled patiently. “All your questions will be answered.” He led them into a humble dwelling that looked like a hundred others, hidden in the maze of streets. “Later we will rejoin your wife.”
Leo placed his hand on Drake’s shoulder. “It’s just a couple hours. Surely you don’t want to be reunited with Cailin looking like this? I’d bloody well like some food. How about you?”
Even a minute seemed too long to wait, but Drake knew there was little he could do to get to her sooner. “Aye, some food would be good,” he admitted.
Tavo looked relieved and gestured them toward a table. “The women prepare hot baths, they will be ready when you are done eating your fill. Please, sit.”
Leo sat at the table and crammed a wedge of bread between his lips, speaking with his mouth full. “A hot bath, bless the gods! I may cry, I’m so damned happy.”
Drake chuckled. “Why not? Cailin yet again rescued us from certain death. We might as well be the ones crying and hysterical, for it seems men we are not.”
Leo choked on the bread and he took a swig of ale Tavo offered them to wash the food down. “Ahh, Drake,” he said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, “it’s not all that bad. Is your ego so bruised you cannot face the truth, that Cailin is a special woman? We can’t deny that fact, and I for one don’t wish to.”