FORBIDDENMAGIC

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FORBIDDENMAGIC Page 14

by Genia Avers


  At that moment, Ronan came into view, walking very fast. From the distance, Winsome’s voice trailed after him. “You promised, Ronan.”

  Ronan sprinted as he approached the stables. He dug his heels into the ground, stopping just before he banged into the corral fence. “Sorry I’m late.” He grinned. “I’ve seen twenty-five seasons, but she tries to find a million chores to keep me from the tunnels. You’d think I was ten.” He inhaled deeply. “Is Thunder ready, Arkton? I need to go before she finds something else I’ve forgotten to do.”

  The stable-master chuckled. “Or discover whatever you’ve done.” It was clear Ronan was a favorite with most of the staff and Arkton proved no exception. “Let me get your equestor, Master Ronan. Don’t ride him so hard this time, all right?” Subena watched the stable-master re-check Ronan’s equipment.

  Good man.

  Arkton kept muttering about making a mistake, but he re-saddled Amnesia after she finished brushing the mare’s belly with soft talc.

  “I’ll give you a twenty minute head start,” Arkton whispered, “then I have to tell Kamber.”

  She nodded from her perch before looking over her shoulder at Ronan. “Let’s go.” She trotted away before Arkton changed his mind.

  Subena’s thoughts drifted as they rode. The countryside amazed her. There were so many different varieties of trees and wildflowers to examine she hated herself for thinking about Kamber. The brute hadn’t bothered to wait for her at breakfast. He probably hadn’t even come back to the castle after their tiff.

  Blast him. The floozy was welcome to him.

  They stopped at a stream to let the animals rest. Subena half-listened to Ronan as he chatted about his search. “I’ve looked everywhere for the tunnel. I think if I found it, maybe father would…” He kicked at a leaf on the ground.

  “Take you more seriously?” She sensed the frustration beneath his embarrassment. “I know what you mean. Sometimes I felt like my big brother never thought anything I did mattered.”

  Ronan nodded vigorously, his emerald eyes twinkling. In the light of the Sun-Star, she could see flecks of gold. His eyes were very different from Kamber’s. “You were lucky.”

  “Lucky? How do you figure that?”

  “You only have one brother.”

  Laughing, Ronan gracefully hopped on his equestor and turned the animal around. Subena remounted her mare.

  “Did I tell you about my sisters?” she called, laughing as she pressed her knees into Amnesia’s side, coaxing the animal into a trot. “So how do we search for this tunnel?”

  Ronan provided a vivid history of his searches and the techniques he’d used in them. “I think Kamber may have a good idea where the tunnel entrance is, but he won’t admit it.”

  They stopped in a clearing to take a better look at some disturbed ground. Ronan offered her a drink from his flask. Subena shook her head, fearing her control would become an issue should the container be filled with blood.

  As she started to re-mount, shivers raced through her body. She smiled at Ronan to hide her sudden discomfort. It wasn’t a sound that alarmed her, although she might have heard a twig break. The air itself seemed to send an uncanny warning. Alarm encircled her body and sucked the breath from her lungs.

  Someone watched. And not someone with their best interests at heart.

  “Ronan, don’t be obvious, but keep talking,” she whispered. “While you talk, scan the area behind me. I think we may have visitors.”

  Ronan nodded once and followed her directions. He kept talking about the tunnel but his gaze roved over the landscape. He looked down suddenly and spoke softly, “I saw something move. It could be that Kamber’s having us watched.”

  “I don’t think so. What do you say we race back to the castle?”

  She heard a rustling in the woods. Ronan blinked and rubbed his hand over his neck, affecting an air of nonchalance. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

  “Let’s go find that tunnel,” Subena said in a louder tone, almost shouting. She hoped the onlooker believed they were unaware of the surveillance. She may have spoken too loud.

  Ronan whispered, “You go first.” He unsnapped the sheath to the knife that hung on his belt. “I’ll cover you.”

  She didn’t have to nudge Amnesia. The little mare sensed her unease and sprinted before she’d gotten her foot completely in the stirrup.

  They shot out across the terrain, maintaining the breakneck pace for a couple of kilometers. Subena looked over her shoulder. Seeing no one, she reined in the mare. She turned her animal around, trying to look inconspicuous as she checked to see if anyone followed. She didn’t see anyone so she brought the equestor to a standstill and listened.

  She’d almost dismissed her foreboding when she heard the whinny of another equestor. Ronan reined in his mount and waited with her. “See anything?”

  She turned to look at him, jerking her body to one side as her mare sidestepped. An arrow whizzed by her head.

  “Bockle!” she swore. If not for her ability to react quickly—a skill forbidden in Mydrias—she’d be dead. She waved her arms frantically. “Run, Ronan.”

  She jerked at Amnesia’s reins, spinning the animal about, and spurred the equestor into a gallop. Ronan bolted after her. They didn’t stop again until they reached the stables.

  Ronan helped her dismount. Feeling winded and out of sorts, she let him pull her into his arms while she willed her racing heart to beat at a more normal pace. She lifted her head, spotting an unexpected figure hovering in the stall. She yelped.

  Taslin stood by the stable door.

  She jumped away from Ronan. “You scared the wits out of me, Tas.”

  The duke seemed oblivious to her surprise. “I came to say hello, but you seem...occupied.”

  “Taslin, I…we…” Why in Bockle was she explaining anything to him?

  “What’s wrong?” He stared at her, concern mixed with something else evident on his face. Surely he didn’t think the hug she’d given Ronan meant anything?

  “Someone shot an arrow,” Ronan supplied, looking from her to Taslin. “It seemed to come from out of nowhere. Where’d you come from?”

  Taslin rushed forward and took both her hands in his larger ones. “Tell me what happened.”

  Her emotions twisted into conflicted knots. What was he doing? Taslin had never pampered her before. She’d expected him to tell her to buck up. And Ronan looked like he wanted to punch the duke.

  Before she could find her voice to question him, another shadow materialized. “Get your hands off my wife.” Kamber emerged from the darkness, his face a mask of pure fury.

  “Sorry. Just trying to be a comfort. The lady’s quite rattled.” Taslin bowed deeply. He didn’t seem surprised to see her husband. “Of course, you’re probably not familiar with the concept of providing comfort.” He winked at Subena and sauntered toward the palace.

  She stared, first at the duke’s retreating back and then at her spouse, trying to comprehend what had just happened. “Kamber, I need to tell you—”

  “Save it,” he barked. He narrowed his eyes and held her captive with his glance for a brief second.

  “Don’t bark at her, Kam,” Ronan shouted. “She’s been through enough for one day.”

  Kamber looked at his brother, almost as if he didn’t see him.

  Before she could speak, her husband stormed away.

  “Kamber, wait,” Ronan called. He headed toward the door.

  She turned toward Amnesia, patting the animal’s heaving side. “Men.” So much for the attempt on her life.

  “Subena.” The voice surprised her. She’d thought Ronan had gone after Kamber. She turned to find him staring at her, concern in his eyes. “We’re not all like those two. I know my brother’s a bit of a jerk, but why didn’t you tell him about the attack?” His voice sounded somber. Like someone had died. “I saw the arrow.”

  She sighed. “Like the stupid macho jerk gave me time to say anything. I’l
l go find him and explain, but it was probably just someone hunting in the woods.” Her words were hollow. Ronan’s eyesight was probably as keen as hers. He would know the arrow had been crafted entirely from silver. A death arrow.

  Ronan stared at her, his beautiful olive skin pasty with red blotches. “No, it wasn’t. We have to tell Kamber now. I know we just met, but…I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Subena debated her course of action. After the attack on the caravan, Kamber would probably send her back to Mydrias. It would be the first time he and Taslin agreed on anything.

  She could avoid any arrow meant for her, but she couldn’t take chances with the lives of others. Ronan could have been killed, too. “Let’s go find him.”

  Chapter Twenty

  She was late.

  Subena rushed her toiletry. The ladies’ brunch in her honor would start in fifteen minutes. She’d searched for Kamber, intent upon telling him about the arrow, but she’d been unable to find him. She should have told Winsome and had her cancel the event, but the queen looked so animated, almost happy—that Subena had compromised.

  She hurried to her room, intent upon leaving Kamber a note. A new gown and a rose lay on her bed. As if he could buy her forgiveness. She ignored the garment and scribbled out the note about the arrow.

  Task finished, she carried the paper toward the adjoining suite. But the door to Kamber’s suite remained bolted. How had he gotten the dress into her room?

  She shoved the paper under the door, feeling stupid. No doubt he had a key.

  She eyed the stunning dress with distaste. Wearing it would be tantamount to full submission. She’d already given in and accepted a dress on the day after her marriage. If she wore the gown, it would send a signal. Her cad husband couldn’t do as he pleased just because he brought her gifts.

  The fabric beckoned her fingers and tested her resolve. She touched the velvety bodice with its array of colors. The blues, purples and greens intertwined and looked different from every angle, each blending of hues more lovely than the last. Her hand traced over the blue-green gems that embellished the waistline and traveled down to the silky skirt. She could practically feel the divine cloth caressing her hips and legs. Gatsle might not be a modern country, but their textiles were unsurpassed.

  “No.” She jerked her hand away.

  Her husband had much to learn—she had no use for his trinkets. The dress must have cost a fortune. She would return it and use the funds for schoolbooks.

  Her mood plummeted as she went through her closet. When compared to the garment on her bed, her wardrobe left much to be desired.

  It was paramount that she should make a good impression, wasn’t it? She lifted the new dress off the bed and held it against her chest. What would it harm if she tried it on?

  She slipped the garment over her head. Turning, she glanced into the antique mirror.

  “Too much harm,” she murmured. The colors reflected in her eyes and the cut emphasized the curve of her hips and the smallness of her waist. As though the gown had been made especially for her.

  “What the devil.” She’d keep the dress and ask for the funds, too.

  I must tell the dressmaker to put the fasteners on the side. People in Gatsle seemed to be ancient when it came to clothing. She was just trying to fasten the back when she heard her door open. Leave it to her husband to appear the minute she was undressed.

  She whirled, ready for battle, holding the dress against her chest to keep it from falling down.

  “Here, let me get that.” Subena almost dropped the bodice. She faced the female who’d unpacked her trunks.

  “Who are you?” Subena tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

  “I’m to be your maid, madam.”

  Madam? Subena didn’t care for titles but madam was most inappropriate. Hadn’t the maid called her “miss” before? Also inappropriate.

  She started to complain but the maid looked so eager-to-please, Subena let the matter drop. And she was late.

  “Thank you. If you could fasten my gown I would really appreciate it.”

  “Yes, madam.” The maid practically skipped.

  “Just this once. I don’t really need a servant.” Subena didn’t want to encourage her.

  There were no personal servants in the Mydrian Palace and Subena didn’t intend to have one in Gatsle. She and her sisters had paid assistants to help with social functions and matters of state, but Mydrian females were expected to dress themselves.

  “No maid?” The servant stopped fastening and placed both her hands over her mouth.

  “No maid,” Subena repeated.

  “But, my lady…please, they’ll punish me.”

  So now she was “my lady,” not madam. “Don’t be silly. They won’t punish you because I don’t want a servant.”

  “They will, my lady. I’ll be sent back to the fields or stables. Let me help you. Please let me do your hair.”

  Subena caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her long curls were tangled and frizzy after her frantic ride. It would take forever to get a brush through her hair.

  “Maybe. But just this once.” She’d started to repeat herself.

  The maid reached around Subena and grabbed the brush from the dressing table. “Here, sit.”

  Subena sat. “What’s your name?”

  “Kelsie.” The maid dragged the brush through the snarls. Each tug threatened to make Subena’s eyes water. Her want-to-be maid clearly didn’t know how to style hair. At least she didn’t know how to comb someone else’s hair. Kelsie’s blue-black tresses looked like a comb would float through them without any resistance.

  “I’ll do this. You must have other things to do.” Subena reached for the brush, but Kelsie backed away.

  “You don’t understand. They’ll sack me if you’re not happy. I’m…different.”

  “What do you mean, different?” Subena worked to keep her voice calm. She wanted Kelsie out of her room.

  “I’m a half-breed.”

  “Half what?” Intrigued, Subena forgot her annoyance.

  “I’m part Gatslian.” Kelsie hung her head. “Part something else. They’ll use any excuse to fire me.”

  Surely Winsome wouldn’t allow such biased behavior? Subena decided to talk to the queen first. “All right. You can stay until I figure something out. But you’re my companion, not a maid.”

  Kelsie threw her arms around Subena. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  “Just hurry.”

  Twenty minutes later, Subena stared at the mirror, trying to find something good to say. “My mother would shriek,” she said, smiling so Kelsie would interpret the comment in a positive way.

  Her bangs were pulled back from her forehead and secured with so many pins she felt the beginnings of a massive headache. Misshapen braids trapped her pale curls high on her head. She looked like a severe priestess with a beehive on her head. Kelsie waited, one fist clasped in her other hand.

  Subena picked up the hand mirror to check the back. The view didn’t improve.

  Kelsie gushed, “My lady, I assure you, the style is all the rage.”

  “Thank you. Please go and tell Winsome I’ll be right there.”

  Kelsie furrowed her brows, but nodded and left. When the door closed, Subena gritted her teeth and tore at the pins. Once her long locks were pin free, she attacked the braids. She didn’t have enough time to completely remove the plaits, so she left two braids on each side of her face and tied them in the back with a ribbon.

  “I look like a peasant girl.” At least the style flattered her face, but she was very late now. She dashed for the door.

  When she arrived in the banquet hall, everyone had been seated. Winsome stood to greet her. “Good. You’re here.”

  Subena surveyed the room, wondering if the queen was relieved at her arrival or annoyed with her tardiness. Not one of the ladies sported a hairdo that remotely resembled the coiffure that was “all the rage.” Kelsie
might be 50 percent Gatslian, but she had zero percent fashion sense.

  She spotted Rekita seated at the second table. Years of training allowed her to keep smiling. What is that witch doing here?

  “Let me introduce you to everyone,” Winsome said.

  Subena could remember everything in most situations, but a wave of social panic invaded her body. Rekita was quickly forgotten. A whir of faces and names came at her with amazing speed and her mind went blank. Everyone nodded politely and she did her best to nod back. She couldn’t escape the feeling that she was on trial—and about to be convicted. These ladies would judge all of Mydrias by her actions.

  They stared, some biting their lips, some with mouths pursed. Did they expect her to have two heads just because she was from Mydrias?

  “And this is…” Queen Winsome paused in her introductions. Subena blinked, bringing Rekita’s face into focus.

  Great. Just great.

  “The quartermaster’s daughter, Rekita,” Winsome continued, narrowing her eyes. “I trust she will behave today.”

  A tittering noise echoed in the great dining hall. Whether the guests laughed at her or Rekita, Subena couldn’t tell. She did her best not to change her expression when she greeted the evil harridan, but when she shook Rekita’s hand, she wanted to jerk her arm back.

  A tap on her arm ended the awkward silence. “Master Tam,” she said. “I’m so glad to see you.” The young boy had no idea how glad.

  He motioned for her to lean down so he could whisper in her ear. “Don’t touch her. Ronan says she has cooties.”

  The room had gone silent so Tam’s raspy whisper echoed. More tittering sounds erupted. This time, the laughter was most definitely at Rekita’s expense.

  “Mom says this is a chicken party, but I told her you’d let me stay.” The little boy looked hopeful.

  Subena looked to her new mother-in-law for approval, her spirit rebounding. “Would it be all right?”

  Winsome smiled. “Of course. I tried to explain to Tam that this was a lady’s luncheon, also known as a hen party, but when he heard the luncheon was for you, wild equestors couldn’t keep him away.”

 

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