The Pearls

by Deborah Chester

  Scowling, Vineena put the opal in her hand. “I’m sorry, my lady,” she said to Lea. “I was not disobedient. I was about to do your bidding.”

  Lea looked at her in disappointment, not at all fooled by the lie. “Oh, Vineena,” she said.

  “I shall deal with it,” Rinthella announced. Turning with a swirl of her skirts, she headed back toward the stream.

  Vineena watched her go. “Maybe,” she muttered. “And maybe she wants it for herself.”

  “Why does no one heed my wish to leave?” Lea asked Thirbe. “Why does the groom not bring my horse?”

  Her protector was still red in the face, his mouth a thin line of anger. “What do you think? Who countermands your every order?”

  She frowned. “Oh, not again.”

  “Aye, again. And here comes our moon-eyed popinflare now.”

  “Ah, Lady Lea!” called out Hervan’s distinctive light baritone. “Admiring the ruins, I see. Would you care to stroll to them? I’ll see you safely across the stream.”

  He stopped before her, holding his white gauntlets in one hand and standing in a way that best displayed the athletic line of his body. He sent her a charming smile that she did not return.

  “I think the ruins are shadow haunted,” she said. “Let us continue on without further delay.”

  “Haunted?” He laughed. “All shadows are gone, Lady Lea.”

  “Do not patronize me, Captain. Demons may no longer crawl freely about our world, but that does not mean evil is gone. It is time to leave.”

  “At least wait until the wagons catch up to us,” he said persuasively. “No doubt you would be far more comfortable in your litter, especially since the weather is worsening, and—”

  “No, thank you. The weather does not trouble me. I shall continue on my horse.”

  “But, Lady Lea—”

  “Groom,” Lea said imperiously, beckoning.

  Wim led up her gelding in a way that jostled Hervan aside.

  “Take care, fellow!” the captain said in annoyance.

  Lea swallowed a smile. “Wim, please be more careful.”

  “Aye, m’lady.”

  Hervan slapped pale horse hairs from his shoulder. “Well, if you insist, Lady Lea, then I shall escort you to the head of the column. No eating mud for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “She’ll be safer in the middle,” Thirbe said.

  “Oh, but I think we have nothing to fear from bandits on this road,” Hervan said airily. He smiled at Lea. “Besides, I know a little of the history of this valley.”

  “Then can you tell me what happened to the town?” Lea asked.

  “Er, no, but when we reach its imperial arch, we’ll look for the dates and—”

  “Already told her that much,” Thirbe broke in.

  Annoyance wiped away Hervan’s smile. Taller, younger, as glossy and sleek as Thirbe was dour and stocky, the captain looked down his patrician nose with all the arrogance of his class and lineage. “You are the lady’s protector, sirrah, nothing more. Keep your place.”

  “Am,” Thirbe said shortly, meeting him glare for glare. “Better she rides in the middle of the column. You can spin old folk tales once we’re through for the day.”

  Hervan drew in a sharp breath, but before Lea could intervene, Rinthella came up beside her and curtsied. “Is there any service I may perform for you, my lady?” she asked. Her handsome eyes were sparkling, and she looked vivid and lovely in the falling snow. As she spoke to Lea, however, she kept glancing at the captain. “May I fetch you another pair of gloves, Lady Lea? Do you want the musicians to play while you and the captain are conversing?”

  “No, thank you,” Lea said quickly. “We’re leaving.”

  “Are we?” Rinthella suddenly pointed at the woods. “What is that?”

  Both Lea and Thirbe turned, but from the corner of her eye Lea caught the captain and Rinthella exchanging secret smiles. A note passed between them. When Lea faced them, however, both were looking at her attentively, their expressions quite proper.

  Disappointed in Rinthella, who was older than she by three years and engaged to marry yet persisted in flirting with any good-looking man in the squadron, Lea despaired of ever seeing her chief attendant behave. With masses of dark hair and haughty eyes, Rinthella was beautiful enough to be paid plenty of compliments without having to seek them, and her penchant for disposable relationships did not bode well for her future marital happiness. As for the captain, Lea found it shocking that he pursued them both. She supposed he and Rinthella thought her too naive and unsophisticated to ever realize the truth. But she perceived that behind their smiling faces they were secretly laughing at how easily they thought they had deceived her.

  Raised by the Choven, who courted and married for life, Lea despised these games.

  “Rinthella, you may leave me,” she said.

  Rinthella’s dark brows lifted in surprise. Color stained her cheeks as she curtsied very correctly, then flounced away. Hervan watched her go with open appreciation before returning his attention to Lea.

  His gaze was warm, showing her equal appreciation.

  Astonished, Lea thought, He has no shame at all.

  “May I assist you, Lady Lea?” he said suavely and snapped his fingers. “Groom! The lady’s reins, at once!”

  Wim tried to hand the reins to her, but Hervan intervened, taking them and knotting them together as though for a child. Then he cupped her small booted foot in his hands and boosted her lightly into the saddle.

  She gave Hervan a cool nod. “Thank you, Captain.”

  Stepping back, Hervan threw her a cavalry salute and spun on his heel. “Sergeant Taime, mount up the men!”

  Taime bawled out commands that were echoed by Lor and the third sergeant down the line, and soon they were riding out. The flag bearer went to the head of the column, and so did Adjutant Barsin, but Hervan angled his horse beside Lea’s, crowding Thirbe.

  Scarlet with outrage, Thirbe said, “Best leave off paying court to our good lady, Captain, and see to your men.”

  “The sergeants have things in hand.”

  “Well, your squint-eyed Sergeant Taime, and Lor, and whosit down the line ain’t worth the price of their commissions. We’re straggled all over the road, and the column ain’t forming up tight like it should.”

  Hervan gave Thirbe a cold stare and turned to Lea. “Lady Lea, your man-at-arms worries far too much. He’s cast his poor spirits over you and made you fear this valley instead of appreciating it. Now he seeks to give me orders. Will you dismiss him from his duties for a while? Perhaps he would enjoy escorting your lovely attendants while I personally attend to your safety.”

  Lea gasped in affront. “Captain, you go too far! His duty is to remain close to me at all times while you—”

  “But how can we enjoy a real conversation with him scowling and muttering as he does?” Hervan asked. “His face could sour milk, and with such an audience how can I find the proper words to express how much I ardently admire you?”

  Shocked, Lea reined up her horse so abruptly that Hervan passed her before he wheeled back.

  Lea was already gesturing at Thirbe. “To my stirrup,” she commanded.

  Thirbe obeyed, wearing a grim little smile of satisfaction as he trotted his horse into position before Hervan could block him.

  All the while Lea glared at the captain. “You disappoint me, sir. You presume too much, and your behavior is inappropriate.”

  “To an untried maiden, perhaps,” he murmured for her hearing alone. “But not to a woman.”

  Her brows drew together in consternation.

  His eyes were dancing with amusement. “Dear Lady Lea,” he went on. “I realize I should not be talking this way while I’m on duty, but my admiration fills my heart to overflowing, and no longer can I avoid telling you so.”

  “Make a better effort,” she said fiercely. “It’s improper to speak to me like this.”

  “Oh, but I am lost
to what is proper. My feelings overwhelm me.”

  “Your feelings are false ones. I—”

  She broke off just in time, aware that she could not mention his dalliance with Rinthella without cheapening herself or appearing jealous.

  “I know yours,” he said, his voice soft and too intimate. “I conspired with Lady Rinthella today. This note?” He pulled out the scrap of folded parchment from the top of his gauntlet and held it up between his fingers. “We planned it to determine whether you do really care for me. Now I am rewarded by your anger, dear lady. I am given hope for the first time.”

  “I—I—” She could not meet his gaze now. Her anger with him swelled, intensified by his assumption that she was jealous.

  “You are shy with me, little one,” he said. “You are adorable, and I am your slave.”

  Her face was on fire. “Stop it!” she whispered. “If the emperor should learn of this—”

  “We are half the empire away from the emperor. He can do nothing,” Hervan said, grinning. “Let me court you, sweet lady. Let me whisper my adoration into your charming ear and beguile your tender innocence into—”

  “Be silent.” She felt as though she’d entered a nightmare. “I will not be mocked.”

  Astonishment widened Hervan’s eyes. “Lady Lea, I assure you that I do not—”

  “I don’t know what you would and would not do,” she broke in, distressed. “How dare you talk to me in this way? Exaggerating. Lying.”

  “Flirting?” he murmured, quirking up one eyebrow.

  She shot him a look, fighting the urge to gallop away from him. “There can be only one reason you would dare to court me so improperly, and that is to insult me.”

  “Never!” Now it was his turn to look shocked. “Dear lady, you misjudge me.”

  “Do I?”

  He had the effrontery to laugh. “Oh yes. If you think true courtship is some ritualized negotiation, you know very little about the way of a man with a maid.”

  Living at court for three years had taught her enough. She gave him a stony look. “You must fear the emperor would not give his consent to your suit, and so you come at me like this, with the collusion of my attendant, and hope to do what? Gain my affection? Seduce me? Are you that ambitious, Captain?”

  He reddened, although a smile played beneath his narrow mustache. “Now who is bold? I admire your spirit, Lady Lea. I admire it very much indeed.”

  “You may keep your admiration. I want none of it.”

  Hervan looked at her in wide-eyed innocence that did not fool her for a moment. “You misjudge me, Lady Lea,” he said in a very serious tone. “What I’ve said to you, I mean in earnest.”

  She met his gaze, clearly, directly, seeing right through his guile. He was the first to look away.

  “I think not,” she said scornfully. “You flirt with every woman in this party in turn. I give you no leave to do the same with me.”

  “Plain speaking.”

  “You force me to it.”

  Hervan took a lot of trouble to flick a speck of mud off his white gauntlet. “We are not all as clear, honorable, and unlayered as you wish us to be, my lady,” he said at last. “A man can admire other women, while loving one.”

  She drew in a sharp breath. “Do you think me jealous of my own attendant?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  He was still trying to manipulate her, she thought, fighting to control her temper. Being provoked into losing inner harmony by such absurdity was another reason why she wanted to leave court forever. “I am not as naive as you believe, Captain,” she said. “I understand the ambitions of your family and know exactly why your father sought this assignment for you.”

  “A long journey is such a perfect opportunity to gain a lady’s acquaintance.”

  She realized nothing she was saying was reaching him. Her mouth tightened.

  His smile was sudden and dazzling. “How delightful you are. Such fire and indignation. Such a righteous view of how life should be lived. Your time at court has not seasoned you at all. You remain quite fresh, quite adorable. It’s a marvel.”

  His mockery—delivered so openly this time—hurt. She had nothing else for her defense except the simple honesty he’d just condemned. She could not even shame him.

  Frowning, struggling to maintain her composure, she said, “You have my permission to return to your duties.”

  Hervan’s smile grew tight. “Ah yes, the easy way out. As you wish, my lady.” Bowing so low that his helmet plume fell forward over his shoulder, he gave her a jaunty little wave and spurred his horse forward to the head of the column, making it cavort and prance as though to display his excellent horsemanship. “Sergeant!” he called out. “Close up the men.”

  “Aye, sir. Men! Close up ranks!”

  “Popinflare,” Thirbe muttered, coming up beside her. “Bold as brass and twice as polished.”

  She stared straight ahead, fighting to hold back tears.

  Thirbe’s keen gaze watched her face. “Needs his guts reamed for making love to you.”

  “He wasn’t—making love to me,” she said unsteadily. “He was hateful!”

  Thirbe made a little noise in his throat. “Aye. That’s what love is.”

  She flashed him an astonished look. “No. It can’t be. Not like that, so angry and wild. Love is a harmonious union of—”

  “Ha! M’lady, you been reading too many scrolls. There’s poet’s drivel and there’s real life.” Thirbe cast her a look of appraisal. “Perhaps it’s time you knew the difference.”

  “I—I don’t believe you,” Lea said, without much assurance. “The Choven are—”

  “Begging your pardon, m’lady, but the Choven way ain’t ours. Love’s sweet dream is dead gone for you—”

  “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  “You do.” Thirbe glanced at her and snorted. “Enough.”

  “But it isn’t like that. You heard him. He was horrid.”

  “Course he was. You ain’t meeting him halfway. Ain’t even interested. You think a conceited young donkey ass like that is going to take kindly to rejection?” Thirbe laughed in his curt way. “Probably the first wall of indifference he’s ever hit. Do him good.”

  Bewildered, Lea sorted through all that Hervan had said. “Does he really think I’m doing this on purpose, to keep his interest? But I’m not!”

  “Don’t care a knucklebone for what he thinks. It’s you I’m to see about.”

  “But I don’t—”

  “Be easy, m’lady,” Thirbe said gently. “I know it. If you did take to that conceited wart I’d have you across my saddle and go galloping back to New Imperia as fast as this horse could run.”

  “Oh.”

  Thirbe’s keen eyes raked her. “He ain’t worth a twig, m’lady. You can do a lot better, and will.”

  “Do you mean Caelan is negotiating a marriage for me?” she asked, horrified. “But I don’t intend to come ba—”

  Realizing that she was about to betray her secret plan, she hastily amended her sentence. “I mean, I don’t intend to marry.”

  “You will.”

  “No, Thirbe,” she said with decision.

  “Seventeen’s a bit young to set your life’s track.”

  “I’m almost eighteen,” she said fiercely. “I know what lies ahead of me, and it isn’t an arranged marriage to the House of Hervan. Or any other. I’ve seen no one at court to tempt my heart.”

  “And you breaking their hearts right and left.”

  Her laughter rang out. “Oh, Thirbe, what a romantic you are under all those fierce grumbles. I don’t—”

  Thirbe’s gloved hand shot up. “Quiet,” he whispered, lifting his head to listen. His gaze went to the hill above them, studying the trees.

  She looked up, too, although at this angle she could see very little except craggy rock. Thirbe’s expression remained intent, focused. He slowed his horse from its slow trot to a walk, and unbuckled his shield
from its saddle strap.

  An icy finger of worry touched her spine. “What is it?” she whispered. “What do you hear?”

  He kept watching, not even glancing at her. “Heed me well,” he said, very softly. “I want you to drop back and gather your ladies. Get over the stream and hide in the ruins.”

  “But—”

  He glared at her fiercely. “Go now.”

  She knew better than to argue with him, although going into the ruins was the very last thing she wanted to do. For Thirbe to even consider separating himself from her told her there must be very serious trouble ahead.

  Without asking more questions, she tightened her reins and slowed Ysandre obediently.

  That’s when she heard a sound like running feet. A sound like armor clatter. Movement rippled through the trees ahead, movement that untangled itself from undergrowth and snowfall into man shapes. They came pouring off the hill, out of the trees and thicket, and into the road ahead, blocking the column. Although they uttered no war cry, their intent was unmistakable.

  The two cavalrymen directly in front of Lea drew their swords, rising in their stirrups. “Crimsons!” they shouted. “To arms! To arms! We’re under attack!”

  Chapter 7

  Lea’s breath caught in her throat. “Thirbe!”

  “Go!” he yelled at her. “I’ll catch up as I can!”

  She backed Ysandre into the middle of the road just as there came an earsplitting volley of screams from above her. Men dropped off the bluff onto the cavalrymen, knocking several of them from their saddles.

  One of them came hurtling down atop Thirbe. Lea screamed, but her protector had not been caught unawares. He fended off his attacker with a fierce thrust of his shield, his sword slashing brutally as the man slid past him.

  Lea saw blood splash across Thirbe’s shield and face. He looked like a madman as he screamed curses and spurred his war-trained horse forward. The horse reared up, striking out with deadly forefeet, and Lea cringed in her saddle, swiftly averting her eyes.

  “Bandits!” came another shout. “Crimsons, to arms! Close ranks!”

  And from the rear of the column, “Archers, to me!” bellowed a voice in Cubrian.

  Although she was aware that Thirbe was fighting to give her time to flee, Lea was momentarily overwhelmed by the violence that had erupted so brutally around her. The worst of the fighting seemed to be at the head of the column, and she heard Hervan’s voice rise shrilly before it was cut off. A woman screaming in the opposite direction caught her attention.