Dance With The Enemy

by Linda Boulanger

  For her, the mysteries of Corigan’s people were quickly replaced by the joyful years of helping raise her own sister’s children. She’d refused bitterness at her plight, choosing instead to gracefully accept her situation and make the best of it. She’d been the one who demanded to step down, relegating herself to a position as second with her sister claiming all rights as if she’d been the one marked with her warrior's blood.

  In the early days hope had remained that she would still bear his child since he continued to visit her bed, which he had every right to do. Her need for fulfillment through her own children diminished with each babe born from her sister’s body. Pride swelled within her as she watched the firstborn leading the warriors toward their King. The likeness of his father in his youth, Tahruk had indeed grown into a man deserving of honor. He was the epitome of elite with his superb looks and muscles trained and toned through hard work. All that was paired with superior fighting skills and reasoning that catapulted him to the top position.

  Nema chuckled as she looked toward the young woman at her side, noting how completely enamored she was by the sight of the man whose blood she carried. She glanced at the King, wondering if the sight of Elenya reminded him of the Daughter of Damalenya that had captured his heart. If memory served correctly, not only had she been marked for another just as surely as he had a chosen yet to come of age, but their bloodlines had been too closely tied to allow for any type of relationship to develop. Nema felt certain that repudiated desire had fueled his fierceness upon the battlefields and within the halls of the court for so many years. He’d always led with a strength that made him nearly as mighty as the man who now commanded his military.

  As the men drew in before the King all attention turned toward them. Tahruk raised a hand and the flag bearers to either side of him lifted their flags to stop the progress of the military grouping fifteen men wide and at least 300 rows in length. In unison, the armor of nearly 5,000 rattled as the mass of men covered the crests over their hearts with closed fists – a sign of loyalty to their King that caused the onlookers to erupt in a deafening chorus of cheers.

  With a signal to his own flag bearer, the King’s crested flag was raised. The crowd silenced, suddenly anxious for his words.

  “From the North the enemy came, in the form of a former ally. Venderlay has laid siege to Corigan, turned our brother’s own men against him and now they ride against us. We know not whether King Travensworth lives, but by the grace of God almighty, this travesty will … not … stand!”

  The roar of agreement from the horsed men as well as the people covering the hillside made Elenya wince. Nema wrapped an arm about her shoulders earning a slight smile from the young woman. She knew her heart rested with the warrior who would willingly give his life to defend his King and Dorengar, as well as those whose allegiance to the kingdom was known. That included his cousin, King Travensworth, should he still live, and his kingdom of Corigan.

  “The men of outlying Drilles and the inland kingdoms have amassed as we have and are now working their way to the rendezvous points where our numbers will nearly double. 10,000 trained men, all swearing their allegiance to the Centrehead.” Again, the noise had to quell before he could continue. “The union of Aleone and the forces of our own mighty Zanak have further opened the channels of defense for us,” Andorak continued when yet another outburst from the crowd finally quieted. Nema noted the color rising in Elenya’s cheeks, especially when the King’s outstretched hand turned all others to look in her direction. When her chin fell Nema nudged her, cocking her head in the direction of the warrior who returned her stare for the first time. There was no denying what passed between the young couple when their eyes locked. Nema wondered but for a moment whether the King had noticed, though the valiant bow of his head when his first warrior looked back toward him told her he had.

  “The ships of Aleone have already sailed, for which we are thankful…”

  Elenya’s head snapped toward the King. She sucked in a deep breath, taking on the look of one who had been punched in the belly.

  The older woman’s brows drew down. She knew the full reality of this catastrophic event had hit Elenya, though there was no time to reassure her in any way before orders were given and the men from the back flanks rode forward forming two uniform rows before the King. Behind him were four rows of his elite warriors with Tahruk taking the center as their leader. On his orders, the mass began to file from the courtyard, but not before the mighty warrior caught the eye of his bride, his open palm covering the crest atop his heart. Nema watched as Elenya mirrored his movements, the young maid’s smile faltering only slightly, her lips twitching with her attempt to hold back the tears that had pooled in the emerald depths of her eyes.

  “Not yet, please.” She pulled away when Nema tugged on her arm. Nema didn’t try to make her go, understanding the desire to watch the men out of sight. As the crowds thinned, the older woman moved away and sat down on the hillside to wait, remembering how she’d felt the first time she’d watched Renaine and the other men ride away. His family had not been so accepting of her, had not welcomed her with open arms when she did not conceive in the first few months acting as if the only thing of importance was producing children.

  Was it not? Wasn’t securing the bloodlines what the marking was all about? Though the idea of marking was designed to produce such an effect, she wondered just how often the matches result in what had quickly developed between herself and Renaine. She was pleased to see the same thing happening in these children of enemy Drilles.

  “Nema?” Elenya broke into the older woman’s thoughts.

  Nema smiled. “Ready to go then?”

  “From here, but may we walk? I’m not ready to return to the Drille just yet,” she said, reaching for the hand Nema held out for help up.

  With a sigh, Nema looked toward the cloud of dust far off in the distance already. She wondered at what point the King actually broke from the men and returned to the castle. He was far too old to ride with his military. His four sons were quickly approaching an age they would have to bow out as well, leaving control to Renaine. The thought twisted Nema’s heart. She placed her hand over her chest.

  “Are you okay?” The intense look of worry on Elenya’s face caused Nema to stop and hug the girl before explaining where her thoughts had taken her.

  “Some say watching them go is the hardest part, though for me it’s waiting for them to return, and then the thoughts of how soon it will have to happen again.” She smoothed her skirts and turned in the direction Elenya indicated she wanted to go.

  They walked quietly for a while until Elenya broke the silence. “So, the King does not command his army. What happens when the next generation steps aside or dies? Tahruk told me last night the King’s oldest son, Renaine’s father, died on the battlefields. Who takes over when they’re all gone?” Elenya’s interest, Nema knew, stemmed from her concern for her warrior and for her children yet to come.

  “They’re replaced by those who remain, whose blood places them in line for the honor.”

  “Honor!” Elenya snorted. “I am so tired of everything taking place for the sake of honor. Our families hand us off to unknown men for the sake of honor so that we may breed strong men who march off proudly, risking their lives to protect the kingdom in the name of honor.”

  “It has to be,” Nema began, “Without honor, you have nothing, and without the marking…”

  Elenya cut her off with a brisk shake of her head. “Without the marking, we gain choice. The honor remains with men that still train and protect. Only they come home to a real home, filled with children that all have the same opportunities whether they’re marked or not. And a wife who has counted the days waiting there in anticipation for the man she loves. I am the product of a society without marking. And Shemek… my friend Shemek is a great warrior, as is my father and many other men of Aleone. If not, why would the King invite them to fight with his men? We have all that you have, and
have maintained it for many years without the requirements of the marking.”

  All Nema could do was nod. She had no words to fight against the grandeur thoughts running through the young woman’s head. She didn’t disagree with them, but knew to fight something that had been happening for century upon century would be a battle of extreme magnitude beyond what any one person could do alone.

  Side by side, the women walked in silence, their heads filled with many thoughts. Elenya was so lost in her own musings she didn’t see Tahruk’s brother until Nema called his name.

  “Redahn!” Elenya jumped with Nema’s shrill exclamation.

  With a raised brow and a sneer, he looked Elenya up and down before pushing away from the blond he’d cornered. The maiden scurried away without looking back, no doubt relieved at her good fortune.

  “My brother has barely departed and already you’ve lowered yourself to visit the less desirable parts of town?” He licked his lips before reaching for an errant strand of Elenya’s hair and wrapping it around his finger. “I could make a recommendation closer to home, my lady, if you’re looking for someone to comfort you.”

  Elenya shied away as he leaned close, his breath hot on her cheek. The tug to her hair made her wince and Redahn laugh, garnering a cluck and a glare from Nema.

  “Though we owe you no explanation, if you must know, your brother’s chosen has a desire to visit the docs and take in the familiar sights and smells.” She took Elenya’s arm and tried to push past the younger Sharanis.

  “I’m sure she has need of many things.” He halted their progress with a hand on the young woman’s other arm. “Why she’d look for it here escapes reasoning, if you ask me.”

  Elenya bit at her lower lip, standing captive between the two.

  “No, you wouldn’t understand homesickness, would you?” Nema tutted at him.

  Redahn paused and cocked his head. “No, I suppose I would not, though I’ve been to the shores of Aleone before. Did you know that?” He stared down at Elenya. “Never before have I seen fields so lush or rooms of tables laden with finer linens. And the fish along the coast provide a plentiful catch to fill the bellies of an exiled people.”

  Elenya ignored his rub. “Why would you have visited Aleone? One would think I would recall visitors from an enemy Drille being entertained within our walls.”

  “Were you aware of any visitors to your Drille? I can’t imagine you were made privy to many of them. No, they would have kept their precious jewel hidden from the outside world lest she become spoiled and worthless to them.”

  “Redahn! Behave as a man of honor should toward the woman marked with the blood of his brother.”

  “Honor? You wish me to behave in an honorable manner, Nema? What honor do I have left?” He shook his head, the night black strands drifting onto his forehead. He freed Elenya to push them back. “My honor was taken when they pulled me from the battlefield only half a man instead of letting me die.”

  “You are every bit the man you were, Redahn, if you’d choose to be.”

  “Ha! What good is a warrior who can’t fight?”

  “You have your mind, do you not? You have always been excellent with tactics and harbored even better ambassadorial skills.”

  Redahn shook his head. “I was born a warrior, bred to fight.”

  “Not all men within the King’s guard fight. Look at your father now…”

  “My father is an old man!”

  “Old!” she scoffed. “Your father is a brilliant man, an integral part of our military forces.”

  Redahn was quiet for a moment, staring off at some unknown point. “I rivaled my brother alone as the King’s best. His position would have been mine eventually, and I would have been the one honored. Father would have finally seen me.” Realizing his inner demons had shown themselves, he moved to flee.

  “Leave it, Redahn. Do not let the disappointment and bitterness define your future,” Nema called after him.

  He stopped and turned back toward them. “You know what it feels like to bask in the shadow of one living within the position you desire, Nema. How can you not feel any bitterness knowing the man whose blood flows through your veins removed you to fulfill his duties through another? The shadow of second is a dark and lonely place.” He lifted his chin, and with nose in the air he sniffed. “My brother should have taken care to assure his duty fulfilled as well lest he find that opportunity swept away.” He laughed at the stricken look on Elenya’s face, the spiteful noise fading slowly with his retreat.

  “Lord help that boy,” Nema whispered as she turned back to Elenya. “Elenya, love?”

  “Oh, Nema. I don’t feel well.”

  The only warning sign given before Elenya slumped against Nema was the color draining from her face. Lowering her as carefully as she could to the trodden path at her feet, Nema called for help which came in the form of Redahn’s quick return. With little effort, he lifted Elenya, though not nearly as tenderly as Tahruk had the night she’d run. Nema remembered the sight of the mighty warrior walking into Zanak with the girl nestled against his chest. She’d been a sight with her shredded dress and scrapes to her delicate flesh. And the tear stains on her perfect cheekbones - they’d touched Nema’s heart. She’d sensed a kindred spirit with this young woman and there was no doubt in her now that she loved this young woman every bit as much as she did the children of her sister and the man for whom she’d been marked.

  Chapter 24

  For the second time Elenya woke in a strange bed within the walls of Zanak.

  “Where am I?” She tried to sit only to be hit with a wave of nausea that put her down again.

  “Be still, love.” Nema moved quickly to her side, settling softly on the bed. The coolness of her hand soothing when she slid it over Elenya’s forehead and cheek. “You don’t feel warm,” she said, speaking more to herself. “Though your stomach is tender?”

  Elenya nodded only to wish she hadn’t. Even the slightest movement made her fear her breakfast might reappear. “It seems some illness has overtaken me,” she told Nema before closing her eyes again.

  Nema’s chuckle opened her eyes. Elenya frowned. “Forgive me, love, though I thought you would have realized what has your stomach churning has nothing to do with the ills.”

  Elenya didn’t understand. All she knew was that she felt awful and she wanted one of Nema’s tonics to make her feel better.

  “Of course I have them, though I dare not give anything to you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because the young master would have my head should any harm come to his child.”

  “I’m not a chi…” Realization bound her tongue. She touched her belly. “Do you think…”

  Nema nodded.

  “Oh, Nema! Truly?” Ignoring her digestive distress as much as she could, Elenya pushed herself up in the bed. Hope warred with fear as she tried to remember what she knew of women newly with child. What had she felt the last few days? A loss of balance a couple of times, and an upset stomach. She’d blamed that and her tiredness on sleepless nights she’d spent in her lover’s arms.

  “But Redahn said…”

  “Redahn!” Nema swatted the air before her face. “Redahn knows what to say to get a rise. He’s a master at ruffling feathers, that one is.”

  Elenya returned the older woman’s smile, her lips setting into a content line. Closing her eyes, she settled against the tapestry covered wall at the head of the bed.

  “Where am I? Surely not in my lord’s chambers, though I am sure there are many rooms there that I have yet to explore.”

  She was surprised when Nema told her it was her bedchamber. The walls draped with dark silks and tapestries, the heavy furnishings, all seemed more masculine than she’d have envisioned for the colorful woman who seemed to have taken her into her heart from the time they met. She thought about Redahn’s words.

  “You were the chosen among your people? Yet you live in this household as a servant?” Forehead crin
kling with her thoughts, Elenya sought to understand.

  “Not a servant by any means, though it’s a complicated story. Perhaps best left for another day.”

  Elenya shook her head, gently so as not to upset her stomach which had settled again for the moment. “Please, Nema. Tell me. I need to understand why the man for whom you were chosen would deny you the right to carry his children?” She struggled with her feelings, hovering between disgust and hatred toward someone she didn’t even know.

  “My warrior… he didn’t remove me,” Nema began, her words delivered haltingly. Elenya could tell she was thinking hard about what she would say. She coaxed her on by reaching out to take her hand. “I was the eldest daughter of the kingdom of Corigan.”

  “The one they ride to defend? Lorded over by Travensworth?” Confusion reigned in her green eyes. “I remember the talk at dinner about how the bloodlines had crossed kingdoms in Neria and Renaine’s case. But… Are you saying they were not the ones matched to unite Corigan?”

  Nema nodded. “It was back when Garrick’s father was King. A wonderful man...” She shook her head and smiled. “Yet another story for some other day.” They both laughed. “Yes, my marking was to unite the kingdoms, did unite them, just as your marking dissolved Aleone’s exile. Only, I was unable to produce an heir to secure the bloodlines between the kingdoms. I loved King Travensworth as a father, and wanted nothing more than to provide that alliance for him, so I suggested my sister become the mistress of Renaine’s household.”

  “Lady Neria is your sister?” Suddenly more pieces fell into place.

  Nema nodded. “Neria’s needs have always been simple. She’s never harbored designs that life would bring love beyond that provided by her family. She only wanted societal prominence and an ability to shine, leaving her more than willing to take on the role as the head mistress of the man who might well be King of Dorengar someday.” Of course she’d been willing. The situation was perfect for her. She remembered how beautiful Renaine had been back then, already the bear of a man that he often portrayed. But his position had afforded those within his household status and security well above many. It had been an easy step for Neria from one princess role to another.