by C. L. Scheel
Two sets of odd, yet strangely magnificent markings embellished his eyes. She had dismissed them earlier as shadows made from the dark interior of the old keep. Kitarisa felt a brief impulse to laugh, but suppressed it. She would not dare risk ridiculing such a man or provoke his temper.
A bold, black line swept from the inner corner of each eye, just under the lashes of the lower lid and stopped at the outer corners. A second, wider set of markings, as if applied in black paint, flared up and back from the outer edges of the upper lids, nearly touching his brows, giving him a fierce, cruel look, like a bird of prey. She could not decide if they were either painted on or tattooed into his skin.
"We are born with them," he said with a trace of a smile. "They are to remind us of who we are and where we came from."
"I have never seen a man with eyes like yours. How is that done?"
"They are the marks given to us Verlian."
"By the Goddess?"
"You do not remember your history, princess? When the Goddess' holy daughters each took a man as husband, the Goddess marked them so She would know Her own." He nodded upward toward the pale sliver of the quarter moon. "Ancient Talesians believed Verlian lives in the moon and those three smaller moons to the left...?"
Kitarisa looked at the three gleaming moonlets to the left of Verlian--the three smaller moons orbiting in a precise vertical line next to their great mother.
"Those are Verlian's daughters: Ponosel, Chalisetra and Siarsia. All our tribes claim descent from Her three daughters." He touched one of his eyes. "All Talesian males are born with these marks, but not our women."
Kitarisa suppressed a shiver. Talesians: blood-drinkers, child-eaters--the barbarians who decimated the Eastern Lands so long ago.
"So, you are Talesian. I wondered as much. You do not sound like a common mercenary or a barbarian."
"An educated one," he said simply, not offering any other information.
"And terrifying," she added.
"There has been too much bloodshed today, even for a barbarian," he said with a another slight smile.
"In any case, I am grateful to you, but I fear your efforts will be in vain. My father will not reward you. It is only Alea he wants returned."
"He is a fool. You are worth ten of her."
"In his eyes, I am less than worthless," she said flatly. "I am the daughter of his enemy."
Assur scowled. "I do not understand. Are you not of his house?"
She studied him briefly, wondering what to tell him, but somehow knew he could be trusted. In spite of his frightening demeanor and terrifying gaze, she sensed she could tell him nearly anything.
"For years the people of Gorendt and Riehl have fought over a long forgotten cause. When my father was a young man, the two provinces decided it was time to stop the fighting and mend their differences. He was forced to marry the daughter of the Riehlian prince, Prince Murliff, my grandfather. My mother Liestra, was Murliff's only daughter and when she married Kazan, a treaty was drawn. But my father hated the marriage and he hated my mother. She was the enemy. Their one and only obligatory union produced me but we were both despised and rejected. My mother lived out her life in one wing of my father's keep with me as her sole comfort. Only for the most formal state functions was she tolerated outside her chambers."
"When I was seven she died--my nurse said from a broken heart. I believe it was poison, but I have no proof. My father then married his dancing girl, Fiana, and in less than a year, Alea, and her twin Alor, were born. Fiana did not survive the birth and I am sure if he could have arranged it, my father would have blamed her death on me, but I was here at Sherehn with my grandfather. Father would not stand to have me about with Fiana's time so near."
"Why did you not return to your grandfather?" Assur interjected.
"The laws of Gorendt did not allow it and my grandfather did not want to do anything to upset the fragile truce. I cannot leave Gorendt until my bride-price is paid...and that will never happen, you can be sure of it." She too, smiled a little wryly. "In a way, it is a pity you came back for me, at least having been sold into slavery I would have been free of my father."
"I was informed you were to be killed, if the ransom was not paid," he said, nearly surprised.
"I doubt it. I would have been worth more sold to Odun slavers than dead and my father never keeps anything unless it has some value. The day we were captured, Alea and I were out riding. My father found it most convenient to find a purpose for me, to make me earn my keep while living under his roof. I was instructed to be both Alea's companion and chaperon until she married." She sighed and stood up. "Reddess' men were far too swift for our poor old riding horses and they overwhelmed our guards before we had gone a hundred paces. I must assume he then hired you to rescue her? Do not worry. You will be paid handsomely."
"And what of you? Why would he not wish you to be returned?"
"I have already told you. I am despised. My abduction would have been a convenient excuse to be rid of me, now that I have outlived my worth."
"But surely Alea will tell him?"
Kitarisa again sighed heavily, already weary of her story. "Alea is a vain and spoiled child. She will agree to anything father wishes. Besides, I am a potential rival for all her suitors and she cannot bear a single rival," she added with a trace of despair in her voice.
Assur remained silent for a moment, absorbing her appalling story. "What will he do when you are returned?"
She shook out the folds of her cloak and pulled the hood over her hair.
"Does it really matter?" she said bitterly. "You will have your gold and all of you will return to Talesia rich men."
"It matters very much Princess Kitarisa."
She turned away from him and moved toward the horse, but not quick enough for him to miss the tears on her cheeks.
"What is your name?" she asked from the muffled depths of her cloak.
"Assur."
"Just Assur?"
"It is all you need to know, for now."
Chapter 3
THEY RODE ON into the night, but this time Kitarisa sat behind Assur since it was more comfortable and easier for both of them to keep their balance. He did not speak, but listened to the steady, heavy thuds of the horse's hooves and the sounds of the forest.
He was keenly aware of the woman behind him--she clung firmly to his waist in order to keep herself steady and centered on the horse's rump. She was warm and soft and to his annoyance, he was having trouble focusing on the trail before him. He was tired too. It was past the mid of the night and he desperately needed the rest. So did the horse.
Nearing the campsite, he saw Kuurus spring forward, his sword already unsheathed.
"Wait until I am asleep before you butcher me, Kuurus," he said wearily. "I will not feel it then."
He kicked his right leg over the horse's neck and slid to the ground. Kitarisa swayed precariously and just as she toppled forward nearly asleep, he caught her.
"So, you went back for her?"
"She saved our skins," Assur said bluntly. "You would do more for a roadwild, buying the next round of ale."
Carefully, he laid her down next to the sleeping Alea.
"Were you followed, my lord?" Kuurus asked, re-sheathing his sword.
Assur shook his head. "No. We are well out of danger now. Wake me in the mid of the morning."
He turned on his heel, dismissing the warrior and headed for his own bed--Kuurus would care for the horse.
"Yes, my lord," Kuurus murmured, bowing respectfully.
AS KITARISA KNEW, Alea was going to be difficult right from the start. Out of any foreseeable danger, the girl took full advantage of her position and started in the moment they prepared to leave in the morning.
Wisely, Kuurus decided Alea was to ride behind Brekk and Kitarisa would ride the roan herself--the decision sending Alea into a rage.
"I will not ride behind anyone," she stormed. "My position demands I ride a horse of my own."
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Kuurus tried to be tactful, but rapidly lost his patience with the recalcitrant girl.
"Princess, I mean no disrespect, but you will be safer behind Brekk and we will be able to move faster."
"Are you saying that I cannot ride well enough?"
"It is just that the Princess Kitarisa appears to be more skilled..."
"I can ride well enough! I will not be laughed at. Imagine me, a daughter of the Dar Baen house riding behind a...a common brigand, like a milkmaid."
"That is enough," Kitarisa snapped.
"Who are you to take sides? You agree with these barbarians? You wish to see me disgraced? I must have a horse of my own. I will not be humiliated by riding behind a man who looks like an animal--a freak."
Something in Kitarisa finally snapped, her patience pushed beyond the limit by Alea's whining. She was exhausted and sore from the long night's ride, and every muscle hurt from sleeping on the hard ground. Taking the girl by the shoulders she spun her around and shook Alea till her head flopped back and forth like a rag doll.
"How dare you insult them! How dare you jeopardize their efforts. You owe every one of these men an apology. They risked their lives saving you from Reddess. You will stop your complaining immediately, Alea, and do exactly as they say. If you don't, I am quite certain they could arrange for your return to that keep! Is that what you want?"
Alea was sniffling now, her tears and sobbing ruining her pretty looks. "I'm sorry. I'm just so tired."
"We are all tired. Our nerves are raw, but your whining will not help. Do as you are told and get on that horse."
"I do not want to ride with him," she continued petulantly.
"Alea," Kitarisa sighed with exaggerated patience, "you cannot ride as well as I and you know it. We must hurry--what if you were to fall and break something?"
"I will not fall," she said stubbornly.
"We cannot take that risk, get on the horse."
"No. If you make me I will tell father."
"I don't care," Kitarisa said, exasperated. "Do as you are told, Alea."
"What if I refuse to go and decide to stay here?" Alea spread her skirts and settled herself on the nearest log, determined not to budge.
"Then stay here and be eaten by marglims." Kitarisa gestured to Assur and his men. "Do you think they will care? Now you listen to me. You stop behaving like a spoiled, worthless child and get on that horse! And if you open your mouth just once I will thrash you within an inch of your life. Get up!"
Kitarisa jerked Alea to her feet and shoved her to Brekk's horse.
"You cannot make--"
Kitarisa did not let her finish. Furious, her temper finally broken, she slapped Alea hard across the face. She could hear the collective intake of breath from the barbarians, but she did not care.
"Get on that horse and keep quiet," she gritted.
Reluctantly, Alea allowed Brekk to pull her up behind him on his horse and gingerly she wrapped her arms around his waist. The look she cast down to Kitarisa was one of pure hate but Kitarisa had no time to argue with the girl any longer.
She strode over to the patient, little roan, brushing aside Assur's hands and scrambled onto his back. She did not wait for the others but clucked to the horse and headed out of the camp.
For most of the day Alea held her peace and they rode in relative silence. Kitarisa kept away from Assur and the ferocious Kuurus. She did not want their patronizing or their sympathy. She wanted quiet and the chance to think. In a very short time she would be back in Gorendt Keep and she looked upon her return with dread. Kazan would surely punish her for striking Alea--Alea would make sure of that.
Then there was the matter of her very presence. It was clear her father had planned only for Alea's rescue, not hers. He would not pay Assur or his men for her return, in fact, Kitarisa wondered briefly if he would honor his contract at all knowing they had actually taken the time to bring her home, too. She at once dismissed that thought. Kazan would pay. She could not imagine him daring to break an agreement with someone like Assur.
Kitarisa found herself watching his back as they moved single file along the narrow trail. The morning air was chill and the Talesians had wrapped themselves in long, beautiful fur cloaks, each a masterpiece of workmanship. In the daylight, Kitarisa was quick to notice that all of Assur's men resembled him with their curious and rather splendid eye embellishments. None of them looked like common swords-for-hire. They carried themselves with too much nobility and each obeyed Assur with intense deference.
They all wore their hair the same, held tightly behind their heads with a silver ring--the long, heavy shank falling past their shoulders. She thought about the clipped, manicured men in Kazan's court and how they would sneer at such a barbarous affectation.
Each wore a gleaming collar too, but not as wide or as fine as Assur's. She was certain old Nans was referring to the Talesians when she spoke of them so long ago.
"They be fierce as lions," her old nurse intoned, "but keen and fine. When I was a girl my da', he take me to see the Ter-Rey, the High Prince to be crowned. Took ten days just to get there."
Kitarisa wondered briefly if it had taken Assur and his men ten days to travel all that way just to rescue her sister, but the most curious thing of all was why her father had gone to such great lengths to hire Talesians, when there were plenty of Gorendtian men eager to earn her father's gold.
It was plain Assur had no great need for money. Every piece of his equipment from the great gray horse's finely worked bridle to the swords on his back, spoke of a man accustomed to the finest. Even his men were attired and equipped with the best--certainly far better than her father's soldiers and in spite of the rough conditions, none of them looked bedraggled or shabby from their hard exertions. They were a silent team of ruthless men who carried out their work with precision and utter fearlessness. She wondered if all Talesians were like them.
Lost in her musings, she did not notice when Assur reined his horse back to ride along side her.
"You are very quiet. Are you worried about returning home?" he asked.
"Yes. I am sure I will be punished for slapping Alea. She is a vain, spoiled child and I am sorry she insulted your man. I hope I will not have to lose my temper again."
"Under the circumstances, it was understandable. What that girl needs is to be punished, and often. Do not worry, my lady, I will make sure not one of my men verify her story. She will either look like a fool for accusing you, or a complete liar."
"Thank you, but he will believe her."
"I will not allow him to punish you," he concluded. He said it with such conviction, she almost believed him.
"Still, I apologize for my temper."
"It was what she deserved, my lady. As I said before, you are worth ten of her. It is a pity your father cannot see that."
Kitarisa said nothing, but rode on. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed he was watching her intently.
"You ride very well."
"I have been riding since I was quite young. It is the one thing my father did allow me to learn. I have always enjoyed it and I miss the hunts with my grandfather. Sherehn Keep was a beautiful place when I was little. I was allowed to stay there during the summer and we rode every day--hunts and picnics. It is a shame it is ruined now," she said a little wistfully.
"Why was it abandoned?"
"The keep itself lies on Riehlian land. When my grandfather was alive, he used it as a hunting lodge and as an escape from the pressures of his duties. When he died, his brother, Prince Ta'Ret, my great-uncle, had no use for it. He sold it to a wealthy merchant who used it for a storehouse and trading center, it being right on the river. Sadly, even he did not keep it in good repair and when the Great Flooding came about ten turns ago, the east breach wall was badly damaged from the flooding. He never repaired it but simply abandoned it. Since then it has housed roadwilds, thieves, Qualani and even a tribe of Huons."
"And no one has ever fought to take it back?"<
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"No."
"A mistake, it is a grave mistake. The keep is ideal for defending such a vulnerable border. I am surprised your great-uncle would sell such a valuable piece of property."
Kitarisa shrugged. "Perhaps it had to do with the treaty. Ta'Ret died too, soon after Prince Murliff. You seem very knowledgeable about defending keeps and fighting battles?"
"It is part of my trade."
By early afternoon, Kuurus finally signaled them to stop in a small clearing in the woods. Kitarisa and Alea slid exhausted from the horses and were only too grateful when two of the men handed out a light meal of cheese and some flat, cracker-like bread that tasted remarkably good.
"We will have meat tonight," the warrior, Del, apologized shyly.
Kitarisa smiled at him. "This is fine for now, but something hot will taste good."
Throughout her entire contact with the Talesians, Kitarisa noticed that all of them rarely talked. Only Assur and occasionally Kuurus seemed to have anything to say; the others spoke when absolutely necessary or when answering to orders. Even Alea noticed it and was quick to point it out.
"Don't any of you talk? Can't you say anything?" she complained.
The seven Talesians eyed each other, until at last Assur spoke.
"All of us have been trained to silence since we were youths, particularly in matters of war, my lady. Silence and surprise are excellent weapons, but do not worry, once we are out of danger, you will notice we can speak very well. Too well."
Again, the wry, tight smile as he looked meaningfully at Brekk and the youngest, the redheaded Courronus.
Kitarisa stood up and gestured to Alea.
"Come Alea, let us stretch our legs."
She tugged at Alea's sleeve and the tired girl silently obeyed.
"Not too far," Kuurus warned.
Kitarisa nodded and moved off into the edge of the woods with Alea in tow.
"They are strange, ugly men," Alea commented. "Why are their eyes like that?"
"They are Talesians. Their leader, Assur, told me they are born with them. He said they are supposed to remind them of who they are. They believe the Goddess marked them."