‘True?’
‘Faithful.’
‘Your majesty, I cannot answer that,’ Tor replied, remembering how Lorys had looked at Alyssa the first time he set eyes on her. It had been a look of raw desire. ‘He is a man, after all.’
‘Indeed,’ she said cryptically. ‘Do you think he will remarry?’
Tor finished his pastry and licked the sugar flakes from his lips. ‘Now that question is beyond me. He is young enough at fifty summers. Finding a woman who would match him as well as Nyria would be a difficult task though.’
‘Why? Surely there must be plenty of nobles only too happy to marry off their youngest and prettiest to become Queen of Tallinor?’
‘Light, yes! But knowing Lorys as I do, or did a few years ago, I think he would prefer an unknown. A girl who would hold some mystery for the other courtiers. You know, I think he’d sooner fall in love with a girl from one of his tiny villages than a worldly city sort. Lorys and Nyria, as I understand it, were childhood sweethearts,’ Tor added wistfully, almost as though thinking aloud.
‘Have you ever loved anyone like that, Tor? I mean, friends first, true lovers later?’ Sylven suddenly asked.
He did not want to answer this question and yet Sylven’s directness demanded reciprocal honesty from him. ‘I have.’
‘Ooh,’ she said, grabbing another pastry, loving the intrigue.
‘I still do,’ he said very quietly.
‘I heard that! You still do! Who is she?’
Sylven noticed Tor’s discomfort. He was being very honest with her; she liked this in him. Tor had intrigued her from the first moment she saw him and his combination of sophistication and naivety, strength and gentleness, arrogance and humility fascinated her. One moment he was a small, lost boy and the other a brave man who appeared to carry a great weight on his shoulders. And now he was revealing a long-lost love! It fitted him perfectly: the man who loved the woman he could never have.
‘Is she not yours, Tor?’
‘She will always be mine,’ he replied, sadly. ‘We just can’t be together.’
‘Why?’
‘Oh…circumstances.’
Sylven was not to be put off by his evasiveness. ‘Where is she?’
‘Tal.’
‘But she’s not from the city, I’m guessing?’
He snorted. ‘No. Alyssa is from a little place called Mallee Marsh; a more simple and uneventful village you will not find, Sylven.’
‘And I’m also guessing that she’s pretty beyond words?’
He summoned the face he loved. ‘Golden hair. Green-grey eyes. Honeyed skin. Petite, funny, intelligent; she’s just…adorable.’
‘Now I’m jealous,’ Sylven pouted.
‘Don’t be.’ Tor smiled. ‘You remind me of her in a curious way.’
‘Thank you. I do believe that’s a fine compliment. Oh, you know what?’ Sylven’s eyes lit with a wicked idea. ‘I’ve just had a brilliant thought. Lorys and Alyssa.’
She watched Tor pull a face as she finished her pastry. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said firmly.
She dusted the sugar from her fingers. ‘Why not? She is all the things you described the King of Tallinor would want. A girl with no past—well, a past that the courtiers have had no involvement with. She is Tallinese and from a village—she is poor, I take it?’
Tor nodded.
‘She’s adorable—you said it yourself—and you also described someone who is very easy on the eye and clever. I think they make a perfect match. King Lorys and Queen Alyssa.’
Sylven raised her cup in a mock toast.
‘I can’t drink to that, your majesty. Alyssa despises the King. She hates him more than a true enemy of the realm could. She would never marry the King of Tallinor.’
‘Every girl dreams of being Queen, Tor.’
‘Not this one.’
Sylven was thoroughly enjoying this conversation and how it was unsettling Tor.
‘Why would she hate a King whom you yourself have just described as almost perfect? What could he possibly have done to make a village girl hate him so much?’
There was a long and uncomfortable pause. Sylven wondered if she had pushed too far.
‘He took me away from her, your majesty,’ Tor said finally, his face no longer showing any sign of amusement.
Before she could reply, the city’s bells began to toll. They both put down their mugs and moved to the edge of the concealed balcony. Sylven was glad the bells had saved them from wherever their discussion was going and was relieved to see Tor had lost that defensive look.
‘Those bells sound urgent,’ he commented.
‘They sound death,’ she replied.
He looked at her, puzzled. The Queen moved nearer and he put his arm around her and pulled her close. She enjoyed the sensation. Usually she banished lovers from her harem within minutes of performing their duties. She could not bear them hanging around or, worse, falling in love with her. They were servants, that’s all.
Torkyn Gynt was different.
She had desired him from the outset; now she was discovering that she wanted his affections not just his urgent lovemaking. Sylven wanted more of this man; all of him!
‘Your friend, Locky,’ she said and Tor nodded. ‘He has demanded that the sailor, Haryd, undergo the Kiss of the Silver Maiden.’
‘Yes. I did not understand it at the time, but there was so much going on with Adongo and then all his people being released that I forgot to find out more.’
Oh dear, she thought. Then this will not be easy for you to hear.
‘The bells are tolling the Day Wait.’
‘I don’t know this custom, Sylven—I don’t know any Ciprean customs.’
The Queen guided him back from the balcony to their comfortable seats near the small braziers.
‘Kissing the Silver Maiden is the worst punishment in Ciprean law. It is a horrible death if it occurs, but the Maiden is not choosy about her victims. She kills innocents as well.’
Tor shrugged. ‘I’m making no sense of this.’
‘The Silver Maiden alone chooses who she will kiss and who she will not. Her kiss, when she delivers it, slices her victim in two, from head to toe.’
Tor looked pleased. ‘I can’t think of anything more suitable for Haryd.’
‘No, wait, Tor. He who calls for this punishment must first risk the Kiss of the Silver Maiden himself. If she spares him, he is deemed truly aggrieved and the person who caused him grievance must then face her wrath.’
Tor looked stunned and a little confused.
She hurried on. ‘Yes, I know what your next question will be. Let me answer it now. The Maiden has a complex series of locks which open and close at random. They allow the blade to pass through or not. The choice is hers alone.’
Now he looked aghast. ‘You mean it’s all down to chance? Locky is playing dice with his life?’
‘Yes, you could say that. Which is why the Silver Maiden is so rarely called upon for her affection. Most who are aggrieved go for the simple sword thrust or a flogging, depending on their level of grievance. But if you wish to call for the highest punishment in the Land and the most terrifying for your victim, then there is a price to pay.’
‘But what are his chances?’
‘Slim,’ she replied. Honesty was best. ‘We do not tamper with the Maiden. She has her own Keeper and he is a Queen’s man. I trust him completely. The Maiden in her past two outings has not executed anyone. That is four people she has spared. She is hungry for a kill now, I imagine.’
‘Your majesty, with the greatest of respect, you cannot allow this. Locky is still a boy.’
‘A boy making a man’s decision, Tor. He insisted. I cannot refuse him; his grievance must be honoured. This is Ciprean law.’
Tor looked angry now. ‘When does this barbaric event take place?’
Sylven ignored his intended insult. ‘In a few hours, hence the bells. Lorke needed some time to set up the Maiden in the city�
�s amphitheatre. Her blade had to be sharpened and the locks oiled—’
‘I don’t want to hear any more of this,’ Tor said, beginning to pace. ‘This is terrible. What will I tell Eryn?’ he muttered.
‘Who is Eryn?’
‘Locky’s sister. I am supposed to look out for him.’
‘Tor, this is Locky’s decision. Not yours. Not his sister’s. Even Captain Quist is abiding by the law.’
‘Yes, it’s easy when it’s not your own flesh and blood. Quist is married to Eryn; he is Locky’s brother-in-law, though he acts like the father Locky never had. Eryn will never forgive her husband. Never!’
‘Tor, you are ranting. You will just have to hope that the Maiden is kind. There is nothing you can do.’
‘I will not stand by and watch your Maiden split Locklyn Gylbyt in half.’
His veiled threat was not lost on the Queen. ‘If you use your magic, Tor—and that’s still a secret between us—I will have no choice but to declare it. We in Cipres are more understanding than your own kind, but we do not tolerate use of magic openly.’
‘I must follow my heart, your majesty,’ he said, standing to leave.
‘And I must follow the laws of my realm.’
‘Is there a law against magic?’
‘It must only be wielded by the Queen for her daughter,’ she said sharply.
‘Then perhaps I might have to taste the Maiden’s Kiss myself, your highness. And it will be at your command.’ He bowed slowly. ‘I should leave now.’
‘Yes, I think you should,’ she said sadly and watched him dress and leave her chambers in silence.
Sylven was not surprised when, a few minutes later, the other recently arrived stranger was brought in by Hela.
‘Your highness.’ The man bowed low.
Obviously used to being in royal company, Sylven thought. ‘I was expecting you,’ she said.
‘You have welcomed me into your palace, your majesty. I feel it is important that I pass on to you my experience of Tallinese life, as you have asked.’
‘Indeed,’ she said in her dry way, which could mean anything.
The stranger was not deterred. ‘Queen Sylven, I must warn you against this man.’
‘You mean Gynt? Why? You said not only yesterday that I would find it interesting should I invite him to the palace.’
Goth gave a short nod, almost a bow, to her accuracy. ‘This is true. When you told me of his presence at the slave markets, I could not believe it was the same man. Suffice to say, I consider him dangerous. Trouble follows him, your highness.’
As this rather detestable, arrogant man grovelled before her, Sylven wondered if he knew of Tor’s powers. She considered it unlikely. No, there was something more than that here; jealousy, perhaps.
‘You were both at the Tal palace together, I presume?’
‘You are correct.’ The man attempted a smile but it appeared on his face as a sneer.
‘But he is charming; most diverting, in fact.’ Sylven enjoyed seeing his face twitch at that comment, not that the wretched fellow seemed to have much control over his ever-moving features.
His black eyes hardened. ‘I would advise you not to permit him in the palace again, your highness. I wish that you would allow me to deal with him for you, perhaps with a small number of your guard,’ he said.
‘Deal with him?’
‘Remove him, your highness,’ he clarified.
‘From Cipres or from life?’
‘Whatever your majesty desires, I would be very happy to carry it out. I owe you my life, Queen Sylven. It is a debt I could spend the rest of it repaying.’
He had been in the palace for only a few days, since his rescue, and already she despised his obsequious manner. She did not trust him one bit, but her mother had taught her always to listen, no matter who was giving the information. All she knew of Goth was that he was the former Chief Inquisitor of Tallinor who had fled when the Inquisitors had been disbanded. He had feared for his life, apparently. He too had been on the ship, The Wasp, which was wrecked off one of the small islands but had not realised that others had also survived. Goth had said he had spoken only to the captain and the ship’s boy, Ryk, during the voyage.
He had been shocked to learn that Torkyn Gynt had also been aboard The Wasp and was now in Cipres. He seemed to know a great deal about Gynt, though Sylven could tell Goth did not like him. He tried to hide it behind his clever words but Sylven was a woman who read deeply into people’s eyes. She had inherited her mother’s clever intuition for people and she could tell Goth was a dangerous man. No, she decided, she could not trust him, for beneath the polite, sycophantic surface there boiled something cruel and unforgiving.
It was Goth who had suggested she invite Gynt to the palace, advising her that it might prove interesting. He had not counted on her spending the night with him, of course, but then neither had she. Disapproval was written all over his pock-marked face and Sylven presumed some of the maids’ tongues had been wagging. How else could Goth know of Tor’s stay? His opinion did not trouble her, however; she was more interested in the former Chief Inquisitor’s relationship with her guest.
They had not had the opportunity yet to discuss at length his knowledge of Gynt, though she fully intended to exploit it now. Once again, she wondered if Goth knew of Tor’s magic.
What was the relationship between the two men? Was it jealousy for the affections of a woman, she wondered? Perhaps Alyssa? Surely not. The pretty Alyssa and the impossibly handsome Gynt were a perfect match. Why would any girl who had enjoyed Tor as a lover consider Goth? No, it could not be that. Anyway, Goth gave the impression of being celibate, eunuch-like even. He had made no improper advances to her female staff—or male staff, for that matter—nor had he visited any brothels during his few days in Cipres. So sex clearly was not his bent and she dismissed the idea that he might be jealous of the love between Tor and Alyssa.
Goth was watching her carefully. His eye twitched incessantly and when he licked his lips once again she had to look away. She could not bear to have him near for long; she dismissed him. She was not ready to listen to his ideas. He was very disappointed but tried to hide it and left quickly.
Sylven knew the day was going to be a difficult one. It had already started badly. She was angry at Tor’s disobedience and his veiled threat to flout her laws. On the other hand, she found herself attracted even more strongly to that arrogant side of him. He feared no one; not even her. Now here was a man she could love.
Love? She had never thought she would fall in love with any man. Oh, she had entertained such thoughts when she was young but she had been trained well. She was to be the powerful Queen of a powerful nation. No man would ever rule it. There would be no husband; she would never be allowed to fall in love. Her mother and her grandmother, whilst still alive, had gone to great pains to assemble the finest harem for their Princess so that she would have dozens and dozens of men at her beck and call. The harem was to be constantly ‘refreshed’ with new faces so the young Queen-to-be would be kept interested and not become too close to any individual.
It had worked. Sylven had taken so many lovers over the years that falling in love seemed out of the question. Now, at forty summers, she found it amusing that she might have discovered love…and with a Tallinese! Torkyn Gynt was irresistible. Charm, beautiful looks and physique aside, he was fascinating. He matched her own brilliant mind and she imagined that she could never tire of his intelligence. And his magic powers astounded her. She could spend a lifetime being intrigued by those alone.
Sylven shook her head clear of such thoughts. Torkyn Gynt had just walked out on her!
Tor was furious. How could this whole thing have got so out of hand? Locky could have called for any punishment, from flogging to beheading, but no, he had to choose the one method which risked his own life as well. Now his quest to find Cloot had been set back even further.
Foolish! Foolish! Tor ranted to himself as he stomped back acr
oss the city towards the inn Quist favoured. Suddenly Cipres didn’t seem so gentle of colour and beautiful to behold; it looked bright and dangerous. The stand-off between Sylven and himself did not help his humour either. He strode into the inn and demanded to know whether Captain Quist was up.
‘Up and gone,’ one of the serving lads said.
Tor left. Where should he go next? He made for the docks. A captain liked to be near his ship, he decided. His hunch was right: he found Quist and his men preparing The Raven for departure.
‘Quist!’
The captain looked over the rail. He waved to Tor but his face was grim. Tor ran up the gangplank.
The captain met him. ‘You’ve obviously heard then?’
‘How could you let him do such a thing?’ Tor spat.
Quist’s own anger kindled quickly. ‘Are you mad, Gynt? Do you think I would have agreed to this? He told me he had requested a public flogging and then starvation in the cage. I knew nothing of this Silver Maiden until this morning when I had to sign some paper or other. I refused of course but the officials could not care less. Apparently it was simply a formality; the boy’s choice remains. I am helpless,’ he snarled back.
Tor would not be put off. ‘So you are leaving, running away?’
Quist’s voice was icy. ‘I am readying my ship, Gynt. We were departing tomorrow anyway. I have to get home to Eryn. I may be carrying a body in my hold back to her. Do you think I look forward to this?’
Tor could not help himself. His frustration at Sylven’s casual attitude and placating words turned to anger which he now directed at Quist. ‘I’m surprised you have the courage to face her after this.’
It was too much for the pirate; he turned and hurled a punch. Tor’s reaction was faster and he threw up his shields. Quist watched in surprise as his fist slid away through the air, twisting his own body full circle with the force. But he did not stop to wonder; instead he charged forward, head aiming straight for Tor’s belly. The blow was meant to wind and hurt but did nothing of the kind. Quist found himself running into a barrier as hard as stone and he dropped unconscious to the deck of his ship. As he lay there lifeless, Tor bent to check how badly hurt he was. It was not serious: the captain would soon come around. No doubt he would feel somewhat dazed and confused, but he would survive.
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