by C. L. Scheel
Jesria sniffed, disbelieving. "Better to have one less of those creatures around to do their filthy killings."
"You will not speak of them in that manner!" Kitarisa snapped. "They are our guests--you will treat them as such."
Jesria bowed her head slightly, knowing she had been rebuked, but Kitarisa did not miss the hurt look in her mild, dark eyes.
She sighed heavily. "I am sorry, Jesria, I did not mean to snap. But, regardless of what you and the others may think, these Talesians are like nothing we have been taught to believe. They are fierce, yes, but very brave and risked much to bring us home alive."
Her maid said nothing for a moment, but moved to gather Kitarisa's shawl. "You will want this tonight, my lady. The air is getting sharp."
"Yes, thank you. You may go now, please."
Jesria curtsied again and retired.
Kitarisa studied herself in the mirror and touched the net that bound her hair. She dreaded the evening's events. All would go well until Kazan had drunk a little too much wine. Then the insults would begin or the occasional slap. Over time, Kitarisa had learned how to avoid as many public appearances as possible, by feigning illness, or attending to the needs of others who were ill or hurt. Kazan was shrewd enough to recognize her excuses and rarely demanded she be present for most of the court functions. Kitarisa had Alea to thank for that--the girl would not tolerate any woman who presented even the vaguest threat to her beauty and status in Kazan's court.
It was also certain Alea would not miss the opportunity to humiliate her over the slap she gave her in the forest. Kitarisa could almost see Alea's satisfied smirk while Kazan would rage at her, forcing her to leave the festivities in shame. And, in front of the Talesians.
Kitarisa writhed inwardly at the thought of Assur and his men watching her being publicly degraded. They were proud men, even the young Courronus. Perhaps their codes would not allow them to stay and be witness to such an embarrassing scene. Kitarisa closed her eyes and saw the tall Assur sweeping out of the great hall in disgust with the others close behind him.
It would be better not to give Kazan any opportunity to humiliate her. Resolved, she stood and tugged the matching velvet shawl over her shoulders. She would eat quickly, observe Kazan's formal show of gratitude to the Talesians, and then slip away when no one was watching. Alea would have her admirers and her father would enjoy the festivities without spoiling his good time by troubling himself with his unwanted daughter.
She smoothed some of the folds of her gown and turned to leave when she noticed her left hand. Her bath had not removed all of Kuurus' blood from her little finger; a small smudge stained the second knuckle. An Oath and his promise. He would do anything she wished. She wished he had the power to make her invisible to her father and to Assur.
THE GREAT HALL was lit with every available torch and lamp. The fire in the enormous hearth roared in cheery warmth, temporarily subduing the usual grimness of the keep. Kitarisa noted that her father had seen to it that the tables were draped in the finest linen and Liestra's silver-plate set out for the feast.
A crackling excitement filled the air. All of Kazan's court were packed into the hall, eager to see the strange and feared Talesians.
She watched Kazan wait impatiently, chafing at the high collar of his long tunic. To Kazan's right, Alor lounged in his chair--his sullen face already slack with boredom. With the rags and travel stains gone, Alea sat to Kazan's left, alert as a bird and fresh in bright blue. The golden silk of her hair had been caught in a fine mesh net, threaded with pearls and tiny sapphires. In her eyes the revelries were not so much for the Talesians, but for her and Alea took advantage of every moment. Having endured captivity, desperate flight and the clutches of a marglim, Kitarisa knew her sister would bask in the extravagant praises of the fawning young men.
From her place further down to Alea's left, Kitarisa observed the proceeding--elegantly attired in wine-red velvet, her own dark tresses caught in a similar net of black and gold filigree, an unconscious tribute to Assur. In spite of the heat of the room, her hands felt like ice. She clutched them in her lap, glad the velvet of her gown was heavy and warming.
Kitarisa glanced at her sister. The girl's shameless flirting with every man in sight disgusted her. Alea blew kisses to men she would have never even given a second glance before her abduction and blushed prettily with practiced sincerity when some adoring young admirer exclaimed how brave she had been in the face of such dangers.
She looked away from Alea's glowing face and recalled another face, white with pain, teeth clenched, fighting the agony in his belly. Kuurus nearly died for Alea and she didn't even thank him.
Abruptly all chatter ceased. Without announcement, Assur led the Talesians into the hall and stopped before Kazan. The heavy, leather jerkins and their swords had been replaced with garments made entirely of intricate webbing that went around the chest and back and over the shoulders. From wrist to elbow, their lower arms were encased in buckled leather guards, studded in gold. Ladies whispered behind their hands to each other, embarrassed and excited by the barbarians' near bare-chested appearance. They wore plain dark-colored trousers and boots to the knee--and no one missed the saddle knives strapped firmly on the outside of their right boot top. Their long bound-up hair, frightening eye markings and faintly sinister air, all added to the excitement. Talesians in an Eastern court!
All but Assur went down on one knee. He remained standing, right palm to left shoulder, offering only a slight bow of his head. A tiny flicker of annoyance crossed Kazan's face, but quickly vanished, obviously determined not to spoil the good feelings of the occasion.
"You have no knee for a prince, good Assur?" he asked lightly.
"With great respect, Your Highness, I kneel only to Verlian."
Kazan let it pass with a slight wave of his hand.
"Tonight, it is no matter. We wish to honor you for your bravery and skills in bringing back our beloved daughter."
Kitarisa watched as both Assur's and Kuurus' jaws tightened at Kazan's deliberate omission of her name.
Kazan gestured broadly for them to be seated at the long, white-draped table set perpendicular to the prince's.
All through her father's sumptuous feast, Kitarisa kept her head down not wishing to be noticed, but acutely aware of Assur's eyes on her. He seemed little interested in the vast array of food being offered and even less in the entertainments that followed. The others were only mildly amused by the antics of the jugglers balancing and clowning from the backs of their tiny black and white ponies, but readily tossed the odd coin to them.
Assur remained poised, even slightly aloof. He leaned back in his chair, legs outstretched, with one arm folded across his chest. The other arm, bent at the elbow, his fingers idly tugging at the short-cropped beard. Every time Kitarisa happened to look up, he was watching her.
When Kazan had enough of the entertainments, the tables were carried away to make more room for dancing. As the evening progressed, Gorendtian women had overcome most of their fear and a few of them even tried some shy flirting with the fierce-looking guests. One or two had even managed to lure Brekk and the blushing Courronus onto the dance floor.
Kitarisa fervently wished the festivities would end. While Kazan remained in the hall, no one would dare speak to her. She placed herself firmly next to the kindly Lady Falla, the only lady in Kazan's court who seemed to go out of her way to be civil to her. If she was careful and spoke in low tones, Kitarisa would be able to slip away when her father lost interest in her and Lady Falla.
"They are not as fearsome as they look, once you watch them for awhile," Lady Falla observed, nodding in Kuurus' direction.
"No, they are not. In fact they can be quite humorous, when the mood strikes them."
"Are they, indeed?" Lady Falla looked surprised.
"Yes, and not once did I see them drink anyone's blood."
Lady Falla laughed. "Ah, another one of our myths forever shattered."
Kitarisa liked Lady Falla's dry and slightly cynical sense of humor. She was one of the few in Gorendt who treated her with a warmth close enough to be considered friendship.
Falla leaned close to her, her soft, blue eyes twinkling.
"I suppose they didn't howl at the moon?"
"No, and they didn't chant ancient rituals either," Kitarisa whispered back to her, smiling at their little joke.
She did not seen him approach her, as he worked his way through the crowd leaving a wake of wary courtiers in his path. Silence fell around them as Assur stopped in front of her and made a slight bow from the waist.
"Will you dance with me, Princess Kitarisa?" He held out his hand to her.
Kitarisa glanced around nervously, for a moment wondering if he meant Lady Falla or someone else. He did not, but continued to hold out his hand, waiting, insistent.
Almost reluctantly, she placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her into the very center of the dance floor. Assur was completely indifferent to the stares and silences. The musicians finally had the presence of mind to stop their own staring and began the simple promenade.
"I can see you are not asked to dance very often," he said, turning and placing his right palm to hers.
"I am never asked to dance, my lord."
"Then I am a lucky man. I shall have all your dances to myself."
Kitarisa lowered her head, embarrassed. "Please do not mock me. My father is watching us."
"I meant no offence."
They turned again, left palms together and circled around each other.
"I only meant that I am glad I am the one who gets a chance to dance with you."
Kitarisa could think of nothing to say and only managed a soft `thank you'.
For the remainder of the dance, they said nothing. She was surprised by the way he danced. Assur was quite graceful in spite of being so tall and completely unmoved by her glaring father or by the excited whispers of the people watching them.
When the dance ended, he bowed to her again and let slip one of his rare, warm smiles.
"Kitarisa!"
She jumped away at the sound of Kazan's bark and sensed Assur's rising anger. The entire assemblage stopped to again stare at her and the seething barbarian at her side.
"I think you have made enough of an exhibition of yourself and embarrassed Alea with your presence. Retire at once."
Assur glowered at the prince, taking full advantage of his height and the unnerving effects of his eye markings.
"I am not finished dancing with her," he said, a hint of a threat creeping into his voice.
"She is quite finished dancing or anything else for that matter. Leave now, Kitarisa."
Kitarisa could smell the souring wine and Kazan's growing rage. She stepped back from Assur, uncertain what to do.
"My...my Lord Assur has been kind enough--"
Kazan grabbed her arm, yanking her away from the towering barbarian.
"I said, leave!"
Shaking, scarlet-faced, Kitarisa dropped a hasty curtsey to Assur and fled the hall, thankful that Kazan had not slapped her in front of him.
ASSUR RARELY LOST control of his temper, but he was perilously close to it. He wanted to smash that self-satisfied, arrogant smirk from Kazan's face and slap Alea for her preening smugness. He'd had enough of Kazan's damnable behavior toward Kitarisa.
Even Kuurus and the others had slipped out almost unnoticed, returning to their rooms, wanting nothing more of the festivities now that Kitarisa was gone and that their own lord so displeased. The Talesians would be missed, but only momentarily. Alea had set the tone to near-giddy excitement and the serious barbarians would only spoil it.
Assur brushed past Kazan, restraining the powerful urge to take his fists to him and strode from the hall determined to find Kitarisa. He passed two wary-eyed guards at a juncture in the corridors.
"Which way did the princess go?" he demanded, glaring at the first guard.
"Thr...through there, lord," the guard stuttered, pointing to an archway leading to an inner courtyard.
"You...you cannot go there," the other one warned him. "That is the ladies' garden."
In a heartbeat, the saddle knife was in his hand, pressed to the guard's quivering throat. "Are you going to stop me?" Assur growled. "How about you?" He glanced at the other guard who clearly had no desire to argue the issue. Assur knew he was being a bully, but did not care. He was so close to telling them....
"No...no lord. I was only trying to warn you." The man gulped, terrified.
"You have warned me. Keep silent, or I will have your liver for breakfast."
If the situation had not been so serious, he would have laughed out loud at his own ridiculous threat. Well, too bad. Let them believe what they have always believed. The two guards stood paralyzed with fear. They would not move until he had found Kitarisa.
At the end of the corridor, a low archway opened into a small courtyard. The gentle patter of trickling water came from a white, marble fountain at its center and around it, the air was filled with the fresh, sweet scent of the late fall flowers planted at its base.
In the dark, he made out the small form of Kitarisa huddled on one of the benches.
"My lady?"
He suddenly remembered the saddle knife in his hand and stooped to replace it in his boot top.
She stood up abruptly and turned from him.
"Go away. I do not need your pity."
"You will not get it. I have no interest in your sister's night of self-indulgence or your father's insulting behavior--neither do the others. I came here to be with you, Kitarisa."
He made a deliberate effort to remove the disgusted edge in his voice. She did not deserve his rage. "Did it ever occur to you that I like your company?"
Kitarisa turned around and looked at him, not out of the corner of her eyes, nor from a shy, side glance, but full in the face. Something caught at his heart. She was so lovely, why did not anyone else see it?
"No. It did not," she said honestly. "I am not allowed to encourage friendships long enough to find out."
"Why does he hate you so much?"
She sighed heavily. "I have already told you, because I am the daughter of his worst enemy."
Kitarisa sat down again on the little bench and motioned for him to sit down too. He eased one leg onto the edge of the fountain, sitting sideways.
"I am becoming perfectly shameless in my confessions to you." She shook her head slowly. "I do not understand why I am revealing everything to a mercenary--a barbarian at that--someone I do not even know."
"I had hoped to be your friend."
"Perhaps you are. Anyway, I find I can trust you." She sighed again. "My father hates me because he suspects I am not really his daughter--I am Liestra's, but not his. He is privately convinced she did not come to their marriage as the innocent bride he was forced to marry. He has no proof, but if he openly denies me, then he has no possible claim to Riehl's throne. However, that has not prevented him from trying to make certain Alor sits on the Falcon Throne. I am almost a pawn and not quite a castoff--just valuable enough to keep for his purposes."
"I cannot tolerate the way he treats you, Kitarisa."
"He can do whatever he wishes. The Riehlians will do nothing. By law I am Gorendtian and they cannot interfere."
"And you cannot simply leave?"
Kitarisa gave a short, bitter laugh. "Leave? There are only two ways I can leave--either some brave, foolish man will attempt to pay my bride price, or the Ter-Rey, the High Prince himself might intervene. That is hardly likely. Besides, where would I go?"
"You have no one to convey a message for you?"
She looked away from him, her eyes infinitely sad.
"Even my own maid is a spy for him. But I did, once. Would it surprise you that I did have someone? I loved him very much. He was the first person other than my mother or my nurse, who loved me for who I am--unconditionally. Rhynn was only a guard, a soldier. He used to
escort me on little rides in the country. He was the one who really taught me how to ride. I...I would have followed him anywhere, willingly, if he had asked," she said, almost whispering. "Of course, we were found out. It is was a horrible, bitter irony. My father had him killed because Rhynn Palinn had the gall to make love to a princess, his daughter. He made a terrible example of my poor Rhynn."
She looked down and pressed silent tears from her eyes. "When the torturers were done with his body, they...they threw him--"
Unable to finish, Kitarisa pressed her face into her hands. "Please go away now. You know my ugly, little secrets."
She rose to leave, but Assur blocked her path. He caught her by the upper arms.
"Kitarisa, let me help you."
Her eyes filled with more tears and it was all Assur could do to keep from pulling her into his arms, to hold her and try to take away some of her pain.
"No. Do you want to end up like him? I will not risk any more lives for my sake. Please go. Take your gold and go back to Talesia and forget this."
"I will not return to Talesia until you are freed from this prison and from that man you call a father."
Very gently he lifted her chin with his fingers and bent to kiss her soft mouth.
"No," she sobbed, pulling out of his grasp. She backed away from him, frantically brushing at her tears. "Not again! Ever!"
Before he could speak, she turned and fled--this time forever beyond his reach.
Chapter 7
ASSUR'S IMPATIENT pacing in front of his tent made all his men tense and uneasy. As with his temper, he rarely showed the extent of his annoyance, but this time they sensed something very different.
It had been five days since Assur had seen Kitarisa in the garden--he and the others having left Kazan's keep for their own camp on the outskirts of Gorendt. There had been plenty of Kazan's gold to buy tents and trappings for their own comforts, as nothing could have encouraged them to stay one more night in that dark, depressing keep.