Moinie was seated near the back of the tent, discomfort evident on her glaring features. Although her friend tended to react harshly to unfamiliar circumstances, Neomi couldn’t fault her for the irritation in her eyes. This was a mistake. They were leaving themselves open to an attack by the Ythes if their presence was discovered. With every day they moved closer to Isavo, they would have to either cease the use of the tents or implement someone as a guard to watch over the group while they slept.
Arms folded across her chest, she watched the Vor’shai woman kneel in front of a heavy pack, rifling through the contents, pausing occasionally to investigate an item before continuing her search. “I hope you are comfortable,” she smiled up at Neomi from her position on the floor. “It must be awkward to have us around. If there is anything I can do to help make you feel more at ease, you need only ask and I will try to accommodate. I have some sway with the men… well… some of them.”
“Sway?” Neomi pondered. “I am not certain I understand your meaning.”
A soft smile tugged at the corners of the woman’s mouth, seemingly entertained by Neomi’s question. “I can convince them to do certain things. If there is one thing I have learned during my time with the military it is that a soldier is no different from any other man. He can still be tempted by a woman. That works to my benefit at times.”
Temptation was a concept Neomi understood well enough. She’d used it to her advantage on many occasions, though it was different with the Ovatai. Men weren’t so easily wrapped around their finger the way this woman implied the Vor’shai to be. An Ovatai woman had to be more careful. Seduction was only successful if their target had some reason to desire their company; and such occasions were often times rare. “You have this – sway – over your Captain as well?” she asked. A man of his rank shouldn’t be prone to carnal games. It was a weakness. One which she wouldn’t tolerate. If this woman might create a distraction beyond mere looks the way Moinie hoped, then she was a danger to the mission and would need to be sent back to Nahedu immediately.
“Regrettably, I don’t,” the woman frowned. “I tried to test the waters with him a few years ago and he was very quick to put me in my place. The Princess is a lucky woman, if you ask me.”
“I intend to ask you a few questions, but none of them involve the fortune of your Princess,” Neomi stated firmly. This woman was riddled with flaws. Her company was less than desirable though she was a potential tool in learning to understand the Vor’shai. Knowledge was the only thing which would help Neomi work with their strange customs, and she couldn’t rely on Onuric or her father to educate her now. It was too late for lessons in foreign culture. She would have to gain the experience through her own means while in the field. “What do your people call you?” she inquired sternly, failing to recall the name provided for this woman during their first meeting in Nahedu.
“Oh, how foolish of me!” the woman exclaimed, rising from the floor to offer her hand in Neomi’s direction. “I am Sahra Viarthi. Lieutenant under Commander Gadiel Taeth.” Neomi stared at Sahra’s hand as if expecting it to detach from her wrist and attack. Wrinkling her nose in disdain she took a step backward, distancing herself from it. “Oh,” Sahra coughed, embarrassed. “I forgot. Your people don’t greet one another with hands.”
Retracting her arm, Sahra returned to her position on the floor, resuming her idle search through the pack. Neomi continued to watch her, fascinated by the strange items she began to pull from inside, setting them on the ground beside her. A small vial caught Neomi’s attention, the glass tinted a soft blue, filled with a clear liquid which looked to be water. Unable to contain her curiosity she bent forward to scoop it up, examining the vial with growing interest. The cap appeared to have an opening, linked to a thin tube which attached to a small, soft, rounded bulb at the end. Her fingers pressed lightly over the bulb, blinking in surprise as a spray of the clear liquid burst forth from the cap, scenting the air with a strange fragrance. Pleasant. Soft and light. Soothing to the senses. Inhaling deeply she tried to recognize what it might be, finding it completely unknown to her memory.
Sahra retrieved a brush from the bottom of her pack with a triumphant smile, oblivious to Neomi’s discovery of the odd vial. Not wanting to draw attention to her confusion Neomi held it in her hand, head cocked to one side, peering inquisitively at Sahra. Distracted by the brush as she ran it through her long, tangled mass of chestnut hair; Sahra climbed to her feet, humming a quiet tune with every stroke. Irritated by the woman’s lack of attentiveness Neomi took a step forward, thrusting her hand in front of Sahra with a hard gaze. “What is this?”
Startled by the inquiry Sahra glanced quickly between the vial and Neomi, a soft smile forming on her lips in recognition of what was before her. “Do you like it?” she replied, her tone affable and calm. “I purchased the bottle from a merchant who brought the glass from an artisan in Palinon. They have some of the most beautiful glassware. I couldn’t turn it down.”
“I care little about the glass. Tell me what it contains,” Neomi demanded. This woman was frustrating. She was capable of giving an illusion of intelligence yet underneath the façade she lacked the most basic understanding and common sense. Neomi prayed she was better with a sword than she was with conversation.
For a moment Sahra stared at her, embarrassed, though why she would suddenly be humiliated by her foolishness was a mystery; unless there was more to the slight blush of pink which tinted her cheeks, the tips of her ears burning a bright crimson. “It’s silly, really,” she stammered, scratching at the side of her neck in obvious discomfort. “I don’t usually wear perfume but I thought it might be helpful to have around.”
“Perfume?” Neomi gazed at the vial in her hand. She’d heard the term before. It wasn’t common, nor was it anything the Ovatai had use of, but she was familiar with the concept of scented oils utilized by the women of other races. What confused her was the purpose for it. The Avaern didn’t care what someone smelled like. How exactly did this woman think such a worthless product would be helpful?
“I told you it was silly,” Sahra laughed nervously. “That particular scent is the Prince’s favorite; or rather is said to be. I thought I might be able to catch his attention by wearing it if he ever let me near enough to him. So far I have not had much luck.”
“The Prince? You mean your Captain?”
“No, no,” she giggled, smoothing a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. “I meant Prince Edric.” Her laughter grew softer, almost hesitant, glancing over to Moinie. “I was telling your friend about the Prince. You see, Edric is the most handsome and powerful eligible bachelor in all of Tanispa. The problem is that he has also been deemed unobtainable. For years women have sought his hand and he denies them. When I heard he would be accompanying the military on our mission, a part of me was excited by the possibility of getting to know him better. If I play my cards right, I may be able to reel him in and return to Sivaeria with a promise of marriage into the royal family.”
Taken aback by the deviousness of Sahra’s intentions Neomi lowered her hand, her long, slender fingers wrapping around the vial to prevent it from falling out of her grasp. She wasn’t sure which part of it bothered her the most. For this woman to be playing games with a man’s heart at a time like this was appalling. Did she have no concept of what they faced? The dangers which awaited them? Sahra was convinced this was nothing more than a trivial battle that they would win quickly and return home victorious. She had a rude awakening coming. All the games in the world couldn’t guarantee survival from the Avaern.
Another part of her felt almost sorry for Edric. Did he know the insidious intentions of this woman? The way she planned and plotted behind his back to try and seduce him with perfumes and whatever else she had up her sleeve. It reminded her of why she preferred the ways of her own people. Marriage was arranged by the family. Love was unnecessary, and if it was acquired, it came from years of being in the company of your chosen spouse. Th
e Ovatai had no need for flirtation. If someone desired power, they fought for it. They didn’t seduce their way into someone’s bed to trick them into handing over their rank. If that was the case, the Ythes women would have been at Okivra’s door long ago. In a way she pitied the Vor’shai for the flaws in their marital traditions. But it wasn’t her business to involve herself in. If this woman wanted to play her games, Neomi would do nothing to stop it unless it became a distraction from more important matters.
She looked Sahra over, disgusted. She was pathetic. Childish. Surely Edric would see through her. He might be a clumsy fool, but he couldn’t be vacuous enough to fall for her duplicity. “You are in love with the Prince?” she tilted her head to one side, curious. The answer was obvious. Neomi felt compelled to ask anyway, attempting to bait Sahra into admitting her deceit. On the rare chance that the information might be useful, she wanted to have as much proof as possible.
“I’m not sure,” Sahra shrugged, the uncertainty in her eyes genuine despite her earlier confidence. “I think I might be capable of loving him. He’s a nice man. Nearly got himself killed on the way here because of me.”
“Because of you?”
“I was cold. The poor fool didn’t hesitate to hand over his cloak. We were almost to your camp outside Nahedu before it came to the Captain’s attention that Edric was practically frozen through. He was still recuperating from a brief lapse of consciousness when you knocked him off his feet,” she chortled. “I rather enjoyed that, by the way. It isn’t every day we get to see a member of the royal family thrown around.”
Neomi cringed inside at the revelation. The familiar guilt began to creep into the back of her mind, chiding her for reacting so harshly toward Edric upon their initial arrival to the camp. In his condition, she couldn’t fault him for a lack of clarity in thought which might have led to his blunder while she still couldn’t argue her actions in response. His harmless gesture was construed as a threat by every warrior in the camp. She couldn’t simply ignore it. Allies or not, an invitation for anyone to venture into Ethrysta was rare and they couldn’t blindly assume the Vor’shai wouldn’t initiate an attack against them. Edric was lucky her bola was the only weapon which struck him. A single order from her and he would have been riddled with arrows.
Shaking her head she tried to force the malefaction out of her mind. Her actions were justified. There was no reason to feel remorse. Not for that man. “Are your men so easily swayed by mere scents?” she changed the subject, extending her hand again to reveal the vial.
“That depends on the man,” Sahra smiled, reaching for the glass in Neomi’s hand. Quickly Neomi closed her fingers, preventing her from retrieving it. Surprised by the gesture Sahra stared at her, aghast, sputtering nervously before managing to regain some of her composure. She was afraid of Neomi. The tremble in her voice was enough to make it clear. “Certain scents are soothing to the mind,” she explained hesitantly. “That particular one is a good example. Lavender is a helpful remedy for those who have difficulty sleeping; therefore it helps one to relax. If a man is relaxed, he might be more amenable to advances.”
“Does your Prince have trouble with sleep?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t know about that.” Sahra nibbled her lower lip uncomfortably. “Honestly, I don’t know if he really likes that scent. It was a rumor told to me by my sister after she spent a few weeks at court with her husband. I figured it was harmless to bring a vial in case there was truth to the story.”
Neomi’s ears twitched at the sound of footsteps approaching from somewhere outside the tent. Bringing her hand up, she snapped her fingers, sending Sahra into obedient silence. Someone was coming. Based on the direction, the steps came from the other tents, slow and cautious. Non-threatening. One of the Vor’shai men? She sniffed the air in attempts to pick up a scent. To her dismay she could smell nothing but the soft floral fragrance of the perfume.
“Lieutenant?”
The voice was soft. Quiet. Whoever spoke took great pains to prevent himself from being overheard by the others. In a fluid motion Sahra was to the entrance of the tent, snatching her cloak from the ground to wrap it tightly around her shoulders. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered, almost anxious in her movements. Neomi thought to command her to stay but couldn’t justify the order beyond a desire to instill an image of leadership. These Vor’shai were hopeless. It was best to let them do what they wanted. That way, if they ended up dead, the blame wouldn’t fall on the shoulders of the Ovatai.
She waited until Sahra was outside before opening her hand to examine the vial once again. It was pretty. Sculpted with impressive skill that even she couldn’t deny. The artisan in the desert must make significant coin off something so trivial. Women of other races felt the need to buy nonsense. At least this bauble displayed a bit of craftsmanship. Her curiosity lingered on the liquid inside it, however. Lavender? Sahra truly believed these soldiers could be swayed so easily by a mere flower? The thought was ridiculous. Neomi refused to believe it without witnessing it herself.
Narrowing her eyes she stared at the vial, a thought springing to mind at the sight of it. She could test it. To determine the real weakness of these men. Perhaps she would discover that she didn’t need Sahra’s help to get the Vor’shai men to do what the Ovatai wanted. Turning the cap of the vial toward her, she positioned the bulb in her hand, closing her eyes in preparation for what she was about to do. She’d never used something like this before. Her knowledge of how it was even applied was minimal. The bottle was designed to spray. It seemed simple enough. Aim and press. What more to it could there be? Holding her breath she squeezed the small bulb, feeling the gentle mist of the perfume against the skin of her neck. She cringed, expecting it to burn, relieved to find it far less dramatic than she feared. Other than the fragrance which lingered in the air, there was no indication that it had touched her.
“What are you doing?”
Neomi’s eyes opened to find Moinie standing in front of her, clearly angered by something. Confused by her friend’s behavior she stared at her in disbelief, the frown on her lips deepening. “I am conducting an experiment,” she stated calmly, reaching to take the vial into her possession again. “Do not question me, Moinie. I didn’t bring you with me so that I could be treated like a child.”
“You are acting like a fool. Why do you ask so many questions about that imbecile Prince? What interest have you in him?”
“I have no interest beyond his usefulness in this war. That woman implies the Vor’shai men to be weak and easily manipulated. If there is truth to this, I want to know. We have a right to know if our allies are only going to hinder us with their stupidity and feebleness.”
“And you think you can prove their faults by wearing this ridiculous oil?” Moinie demanded, reaching for the vial in Neomi’s hands. Prepared for the attempt Neomi withdrew her arm, wrapping it behind her back to prevent Moinie from touching it.
“I was merely curious,” she replied, defiant, jutting her chin forward. “My goal is to test these men, not attract them. I am no fool.”
“I hope you are right,” Moinie frowned. “Leave those men to that worthless woman. We don’t need to know anything about them other than whether they can wield a sword and fire an arrow. I think you are letting your interests in their strange culture distract you from the mission.”
Angered by the accusation Neomi opened her mouth to speak, her words cut short by the sound of laughter erupting outside the tent. The voices were louder than before. She could hear the man Gadiel, though his words were muffled by Sahra’s continued giggles. What were those fools doing? It was getting late and they needed to be up early to continue their journey. If they didn’t quiet themselves, they would wake everyone in the camp. “I am not distracted,” she said matter-of-factly, casting a definitive glance in Moinie’s direction. “We need to get everyone under control and back in their tents. I do not want to hear another word from you which questions my authority or my ability to le
ad these men. Do you understand me?”
“Then show me you have them under your control,” Moinie replied, gesturing toward the flap of the tent. “Go out there and remind them who is in charge. Then maybe I will believe you have not forgotten who you are and what we have brought them here to do.”
Warming his hands over the small heater Edric rubbed them together, thankful for the tingling sensation which coursed along the skin. They had limited supplies but there were enough coals to grant them minimal comfort after the long journey of the day. Callum and Gadiel were positioned in a circle around the tiny device, their breath creating a fine mist as they talked quietly amongst themselves.
“That was a clever trick in getting them to fetch dinner,” Gadiel chuckled, blowing into his cupped hands for warmth. “I don’t know what the animal was they caught but it tasted better than the bread rations we have to live off until we get back to the others.”
“Almost anything would taste better than bread right about now. It’s likely frozen in our packs.” Easing his stiffened posture Callum slumped forward, shaking his head, lost in the depths of his own thoughts. “I haven’t quite decided what I make of this whole thing. Do you honestly believe the creature they saw after Emakai’s death was really a mythical beast created by their gods, or is it possible it is something that just resembles it?”
Removing his hands from the heat Edric replaced the heavy gloves over his fingers. Despite the more comfortable temperature of the tent, he wasn’t going to make any foolish mistakes in risking freezing to death in his sleep. “Even something resembling the Avaern would be a challenge to defeat,” he shrugged. It was a thought he’d given much consideration to since their first meeting with Neomi. Her description of the creature was fantastical though the Ovatai were not prone to exaggeration. He had to believe that whatever they saw during the battle was a massive animal which was capable of threatening an entire army. Okivra wouldn’t have sent for help if that wasn’t the case.
The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Three: Crown of Ice Page 28