by Kit Tunstall
Anca frowned as she caught a hint of warning in Nikia’s voice. Was this outing just an opportunity for Nikia to warn her away from Corsova and her supposed rightful place as queen? She could save her breath, and Anca would tell her that if she brought up the subject. “I see.”
Soon, they approached a building larger than Anca’s entire block in New York. A clear stain preserved the natural beauty of the weathered wood. A faint scent of manure wafted through the air as they neared the two open wooden doors.
Before they even stepped inside, a young man came rushing out of the dim interior of the stables. He bowed at the waist to Nikia, and then bowed even lower—if that was possible—to Anca. “Your Highnesses,” he said in a hushed tone.
“Emil, we wish to ride.” Nikia seemed unaware of the innate haughtiness in her tone. “Saddle Brutus for me. Pigeon will do for Anca, since she has never ridden before.”
He hurried to obey her commands.
Anca followed him into the stables, aware of Nikia trailing behind her. She looked down the aisle, trying to guess how many stalls the huge room held. She guessed at least fifteen on each side of the aisle, with those closest to her all occupied.
She stopped at the nearest stall and eyed the chestnut standing there. The horse’s brown eyes seemed to be examining her with equal interest, before it tossed its head, sending its blond mane flowing around its head.
“Rachel,” Nikia said. She clicked her tongue, and the mare pressed herself against the stall. She caressed Rachel’s ears, and the horse whinnied. She turned her head in Anca’s direction. “It is quite safe to touch her. She won’t hurt you.”
Anca was reluctant to reach out for the horse, though she didn’t think Rachel would hurt her. The mare seemed placid, but she had no experience with equines. She held out her hand, but didn’t quite touch the horse’s neck.
Nikia made an impatient sound low in her throat and captured Anca’s hand. She pressed it against the horse and forced Anca to stroke her. “See? She enjoys your touch.”
“Uh…” Anca patted the horse feebly before she tried to disengage Nikia’s hold. Her sister’s grip tightened as she pressed her hand more firmly against Rachel’s short coat. “She’s softer than I expected.”
“Rachel responds to affection—the soothing tone of voice, the confident stroke…” Nikia trailed off as she turned Anca’s hand slightly to caress her palm. “The softness of your hand pleases her.” Nikia’s eyes gleamed, and she licked her lips. “Do you like caressing her?”
“She’s very nice,” Anca said inanely. She made an effort to tug away her hand again and was relieved when Nikia released it. She sagged with relief when Emil and another dark-haired boy—even younger than he—appeared, leading two horses.
It was obvious at first glance which horse was Nikia’s. Brutus stood straight and proud, with a seemingly instinctive superiority reflected in his stance. His eyes were almost as dark as his glossy coat, and his white mane contrasted beautifully.
In comparison, Pigeon was rather pathetic-looking. The horse was sway-backed, and its mottled gray coat looked ragged in places. The horse barely lifted his head when Emil stopped before Anca. “Your horse, Highness.”
“Thanks.” She gave him a smile before turning apprehensive eyes to the old horse. Despite his serene attitude, she couldn’t help a twinge of nerves. What did she, a city kid, know about dealing with horses?
Emil seemed to sense her unease, because he assisted her into the saddle. “Move with his gait,” he said in heavily accented English. “Let Pigeon do the work and follow his lead. If he goes too fast or you get scared, pull on the reins and say, ‘Whoa’. He will stop immediately.” He appeared skeptical about the horse ever going too fast. “Lady Nikia is an accomplished horsewoman. She will assist you if you get in trouble.”
His words failed to reassure her as she grasped the reins and clenched her legs around the horse. Nikia led the way, keeping Brutus at an easy canter. Anca struggled to relax and move with the horse. Once she remembered to keep her thighs clenched and her feet in the stirrups, she was able to loosen her death grip on the reins.
Soon, they were riding into a denser concentration of trees. Anca paused to look behind her and saw the stable was farther away than she would have guessed. It seemed the last few minutes had crawled by as she struggled to get a basic grasp of riding.
Nikia drew up on Brutus’s reins and turned the horse slightly in her direction. “Is something wrong?”
Anca shook her head, unwilling to voice her continued anxiety. “Just fine,” she said with a false smile.
“Excellent. Let’s speed up a bit.” Nikia kicked the horse to spur him into moving.
She swallowed thickly and kicked lightly against Pigeon’s sides. The horse took off with a small jolt, and she tightened her hold on the reins. The horse seemed to be fine without her direction, and he increased his speed to match Brutus’s.
Soon, she was riding near the flank of Nikia’s horse. The light wind blew through her hair, making her glad she had restrained it. The steepness of the hill and the profusion of flowers distracted Anca from thoughts of her appearance. Purple, yellow, red, and pink blooms seemed to explode from the ground in huge clumps. There was no clear trail, and Pigeon’s hooves trampled several of the blooms.
She was so intent on the scenery that it took her several minutes to realize the horses were nearly running. As soon as she realized how fast they were moving, panic took over, and she pulled up so hard on the reins that Pigeon neighed in protest. He shuddered to a halt, and his withers trembled.
Anca took a deep breath, striving to calm her racing heart. Nikia continued to ride, seeming not to realize she had fallen so far behind. She was half-tempted to let her keep riding while she turned around and headed back to the stables, but she didn’t. “Nikia,” she shouted as she urged Pigeon into a slow canter.
Nikia halted and turned. She waited until Anca had caught up. She shook her head. “There’s nothing to be frightened of.”
Anca shrugged. “Sorry to fall behind.”
“No matter.” She slapped the crop against Brutus’s flank, and he rushed forward with a neigh. Nikia’s legs seemed securely clamped around the horse, and she didn’t bat an eyelash when he reared in mid-air.
Anca shuddered at the sound the horse’s hooves made as he hit the ground. She had a disconcerting image of being under those hooves. She closed her eyes, straining to discover if morbid imaginings prompted the mental-picture, or if she had caught a snatch of a vision. No further images came to her, and she opened her eyes.
It was difficult to keep up with the stride Nikia set, and Anca leaned over the horse and dug her knees into his sides. It was a jarring trip up the mountain, and even the blossoms and trees failed to hold her attention.
It seemed like hours had passed, and she was about to plead with Nikia to stop when her sister drew Brutus to a halt and turned partially in her saddle. She didn’t look at all disheveled from their ride.
“We’re near Bulgain Lake. I thought we would have lunch there and rest a bit before returning to the castle.”
Anca nodded her agreement, too tired to verbalize one. She clung to Pigeon as they resumed the climb up the mountain, finding her resolve to hold on renewed by the promise of the ride ending soon. She decided not to think about the return ride down the mountain right then.
When they topped the rise, her breath caught in her throat. It was almost worth the ride just to see the lake. It stretched before them for at least a mile in each direction. Trees sheltered the shore of the sparkling blue water, and it was so clear it reflected the mountains nearby on its smooth surface.
A deer had been drinking from the lake, and it froze as they approached. Its nose twitched, and its body spasmed. Within seconds, it had broken its own paralysis and darted into the cover of the massive trees.
She pulled on Pigeon’s reins, and he stopped without jarring her. Anca moved stiffly to dismount, wincing as her overw
orked muscles protested the sudden movement after two hours of remaining in an unaccustomed position.
Nikia hopped off Brutus in one smooth motion and looped his reins over a branch on a nearby tree. Anca led Pigeon forward to do the same thing, but Nikia shook her head. “He never runs away. Just let him wander a bit. He’ll enjoy it.” She patted Brutus’s neck. “This is the one who craves freedom. You can’t trust him not to run and never come back.”
Anca followed her sister’s suggestion of walking around to stretch her muscles while Nikia unpacked their lunch after spreading a white blanket she removed from the basket. Anca stopped near the edge of the lake and peered into the water. It appeared bottomless, and she wondered how deep it was. She knelt to plunge her cupped hands into the water and found it deliciously icy.
She splashed some on her flushed face and sighed at the coldness as it washed away the heat of the day and the morning’s exertion. She heard a twig snap behind her and glanced up to see Nikia holding out a kerchief. Anca took it and dipped it in the lake. As she dabbed her cheeks and the back of her neck, she pointed to the clusters of pinkish-red blooms dotted around the edge of the lake. “What are those?”
“Rose bay. Some people call them carpet roses or common oleander.”
Anca started as the name played through her mind. Abruptly, she remembered the vision of lying with Demi in moonlight, on a bed of rose bay. Her pussy clenched with arousal as she recalled the pleasure of making love with him. She hoped the vision was a prophecy and not a random flutter.
Once she had cooled off, Anca rose and walked with Nikia to the blanket. Whomever had packed the basket had included hard cheese, soft, crusty bread, a bottle of wine, and a flask of water. There were also two pears and two apples. She took the chunk of cheese and bread Nikia extended. To her surprise, Nikia didn’t seem inclined to talk while they ate, so she concentrated on the light lunch. Remembering last night’s experience with the wine, she stuck to water.
It was only after she returned the remains of their picnic to the basket that Nikia leaned back and eyed her with unnerving intensity. Anca folded her hands together and waited for her to begin. She had already guessed this outing was about more than the two of them becoming acquainted.
“Why did you come here?”
Anca twiddled her thumbs, but otherwise, she didn’t betray her nervousness. “I wanted to meet my father before he died.”
Nikia’s brow furrowed. “Demi told you he was dying?”
She quirked a brow at the question. “Yes.” Had he lied to trick her into coming with him?
She nodded. “It’s closer than I thought,” she muttered under her breath. “I didn’t realize…” Nikia lifted her head, and her eyes were cold. “Do you think you can just come here and take over the throne, unchallenged?”
Anca shook her head, but she didn’t get a chance to respond.
“It’s mine! Do you hear me? I’ve waited all my life to be queen. You won’t rob me of my place.” Her cheeks were flushed with anger, and she was breathing heavily.
“I don’t want to be a queen or a princess or any other nonsense this backward country offers me,” Anca said coldly. “I have a life in New York, and I don’t plan to give it up.”
Nikia’s eyes narrowed, and she studied her for several minutes. Finally, she nodded. “That’s good. I won’t surrender without a fight, you know.”
Anca nodded, shivering at the threatening tone. She was abruptly aware of how alone they were and cursed her stupidity for attempting to bond with her sister. Her initial impression appeared to be the right one. She should have avoided Nikia’s presence at all cost.
In a flash, Nikia’s demeanor changed. “Well, now that’s out of the way, are you ready to go back to the castle?”
Anca nodded, disconcerted by her sister’s sunny disposition, so quickly following her angry outburst. “Yes. I’ve had enough riding today.”
“Okay. Let’s go.” Nikia bounded to her feet and lifted the basket. She smiled. “I’m glad you came for a visit. I wanted to meet you.”
“Er…” She floundered for a response, but Nikia didn’t seem to notice. She followed more sedately as Nikia hurried to Brutus. Anca was several steps away when she saw the horse rear and knock her sister to the ground. She broke into a run, but by the time she reached Nikia, the horse was galloping away.
“Stupid horse,” Nikia said angrily. She got to her feet before Anca could kneel beside her to check on her. “I’ll have to catch him. Wait here for me.”
“What?”
“I’ll have to take Pigeon to see if I can catch up with him.” She whistled to the gelding, and his ears perked. He trotted toward her. “If I don’t, Brutus won’t return to the stable, and the wolves might get him if he’s out after dark.”
“W-wolves?” she repeated in a shaky tone. “But—“
“Don’t worry. It’s daytime. I’ll be back soon enough.” Nikia clambered onto Pigeon. “If I don’t try to catch Brutus soon, I won’t be able to with Pigeon. I doubt he can keep pace.”
“Why don’t I come with you? We can ride double.” As unappealing as that thought was, it was more attractive than the idea of staying alone by the lake, not knowing when Nikia would return.
Nikia laughed. “Carrying two riders, poor old Pigeon will never catch up with Brutus.” She waved her arm. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Wait!”
Either Nikia didn’t hear her, or she ignored the desperate shout. She rode off at a gallop, heading in the same direction Brutus had taken.
She was soon out of sight, leaving Anca alone. Despite the cloudless day and hot sun, a chill raced down her spine. She hugged herself and examined the area around the lake, looking for wolves and other creatures she had no wish to meet up with—not in daylight, and especially not in the dark.
* * * * *
Anca stayed by the lake for several hours, though her fear didn’t abate. She watched for Nikia’s return, but the shadows cast by the sun on the trees shifted across the ground as the afternoon progressed, still without her sister’s return.
She longed for her cell phone in its case, lying out in plain sight on a table in her room. Why hadn’t she remembered to grab it? She scowled when she realized it would have been useless, even if she had it on her. She didn’t know any Corsovan numbers, and 9-1-1 probably wasn’t available here. At least she could have kept the boredom at bay by playing a few games.
As the time passed, she grew hungry. She tried ignoring it for a while, but her stomach started rumbling every few minutes. Not even her fear dampened her hunger, and she opened the picnic basket as the sun’s strength started to fade. Anca found a partial loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese. The water flask was empty, and she eyed the wine warily, leaving it in the basket.
She nibbled on the cheese and bread, trying to make the small portions last. She had a brief thought of rationing them, since she had no idea how long it would be before someone found her. An even more disconcerting mental image of being eaten by wolves chased away that thought. She ate the provisions available to her, figuring she wouldn’t last long enough to starve if she weren’t rescued soon.
Her mouth was dry when she finished, and she cautiously uncorked the wine. She sniffed it and winced at the unpleasant copper smell. She wondered what type of grapes they grew in Corsova as she took a small sip.
Anca steeled herself for the same bittersweet taste as last night and was able to swallow without choking. She grimaced at the taste, but found it wasn’t as unpleasant as the last glass she had tried. In fact, after a few minutes, she started enjoying the sharp tang and aftertaste it left in her mouth.
It had the peculiar effect of making her more hungry though, and she corked the bottle, knowing she had nothing else to eat right then. She didn’t even have a passing knowledge of the flora of the Bulgain Mountains. Ripe, juicy berries beckoned from a bush nearby, but she didn’t know if they were safe to eat. Though the purplish-blue fruit resembled bluebe
rries, they could be poisonous.
As the sun slipped behind a group of clouds and the sky streaked with myriad colors, indicating sunset was near, Anca rose from the blanket she had spread out hours before. She walked around the perimeter of the lake a bit, searching for signs of anyone approaching.
“Hello?” she called out, cupping her hands around her mouth to make her voice carry. “Nikia?”
Her voice echoed back to her, followed by the cry of a bird, but no other sound reached her. She walked the opposite direction, near a thick growth of trees lining the crude path they had taken to the lake. She called out again, but there was no answer—not even the lonesome bird’s cry.
She walked back to the clearing at the edge of the lake and examined the path. She remembered from riding that it was at least an hour’s worth of riding back, but she didn’t know what that would translate to if she walked it. Aside from that, she didn’t know at what point to leave the trail or which direction to go. Nikia had led her on a twisting route from the castle, through trees, tall grass, and untamed land.
When they broke onto the path, she had asked why they hadn’t taken it all the way. Nikia had explained it didn’t lead back to the castle, but originated in the village of Grasov, which was in a different direction than Castle Draganescu.
Anca considered the path before she looked up at the sky. By the way the sun was so quickly waning, she knew she wouldn’t make it back to the castle before nightfall. She probably wouldn’t even make it to the point where she was supposed to leave the trail—if she could remember where that was. Since she had no idea how far away Grasov was, that didn’t seem to be a viable option either.
With a disgruntled sigh, Anca dropped onto the blanket again and locked her arms around her knees. She rested her head on her thighs and cursed her stupidity for remaining at the lake for so long, waiting for Nikia to come back. If she had started walking hours ago, she probably would have been at the castle or the village by now.
She stiffened when she heard a wolf howl in the distance. She’d hoped Nikia had been toying with her when she mentioned wolves, but it appeared there were still some roaming Corsova.