“No, you wouldn’t.”
Sheyn bit his bottom lip in indecision. He didn’t want to go with these brutes, but he had no idea where he was, and he had nothing but the torn robe that barely covered him. It would be wiser to bide his time and trust the ruddy-haired lad. Yes, he should trust him. This one wouldn’t harm him. He should go with him. Everything would be all right if—Sheyn shook his head. For a moment, he’d felt dizzy and drowsy at the same time, but his wits returned quickly.
“Who are you?” Sheyn asked.
“I am Velvet, who had the honor to be daaksi to the King of Sumadin. You should come away with me. Lord Ognyan will surely return, and I think you would rather not see him again.”
“That animal you left me alone with?”
Luks nodded. “Come on,” he said, holding out his hand.
“I can’t go outside in this.” Sheyn glanced down at the ruined bed gown.
“Enough!” Kashyan said loudly. “We’re leaving now.”
“WHERE ARE they taking us?” Sheyn asked Luks as they walked out of the hunting lodge.
“Keep your voice down,” Luks said softly as Kashyan glanced back.
Sheyn was blinded by the rays of the setting sun, and he missed Kashyan’s scowl. “Why are we going with these barbarians if you fear them so much?”
“Are you completely ignorant?”
“Look here, you little savage, I won’t stand for—” Sheyn’s words were cut off when Kashyan spun and took hold of his jaw with bruising force.
“You! Lapwarmer,” Kashyan said to Luks. “Make this one understand that I don’t like a lot of chatter.”
“Yes, lord,” Luks said softly as he gave Kashyan an appealing look.
“It’s useless making eyes at him,” Djenya said. “You should try them on me.”
Luks turned to Djenya. “Pearl was only asking where we’re going.”
“His name’s Pearl, is it?”
Luks nodded. It was as good a name as any, and prettier than most. “Please, lord, who are you and what is to be our fate?”
“We have no time for these fancies,” Kashyan said as he let go of Sheyn. “Keep up or you’re on your own.” He strode away toward the trees.
Djenya winked at Luks. “My friend’s bark is worse than his bite,” he said. “Follow me and you’ll be taken care of, my word as a Savaani soldier.”
“Are you not a noble?” Luks asked.
Djenya chuckled. “Come, hurry. Kasha won’t wait for us.” He trotted off, and after a moment, Luks followed.
“Wait.” Sheyn stopped rubbing his jaw and caught up with Luks. “Where are we going?”
“If you insist that I guess, I’d say we’re going to Savaan.”
“What is that and where might it be?”
“Savaan is a kingdom in the Shieldwall Mountains. They breed brave warhorses and fierce warriors, not as fierce as the Sumadinim, but good fighters.”
“And why, again, are we going with these…?”
“Raiders,” Luks said.
“Why are we going with these raiders?”
“We need their protection. Now be quiet. I need my breath for running.”
Sheyn pursed his lips in thought as he kept pace with Luks, his long legs giving him an advantage. He saw no reason to stay with these violent savages. He needed to find the nearest agent of the Protectorate and arrange his passage home. After he recovered from this experience, he might consider traveling again, but right now, he wanted a hot bath, some fresh clothing, and someone to tell him the nightmare was over.
Sheyn stopped in his tracks, turned around, and started back to the lodge, but after a few steps, his feet began to drag until he stopped. Though he willed his legs to move, he remained frozen in place, and the compulsion to follow the bandits was growing stronger by the second. He struggled against it, but inexorably, he was drawn to reverse his course.
“Thank the Goddess, you came to your senses,” Luks said when Sheyn trotted up beside him.
“I don’t want to be here, but it seems I have no choice.”
Luks glanced at Sheyn and sighed. “I hoped I was wrong.”
“About what?” Sheyn craned his neck to see Luks’s face. “About what, you irritating savage? And try being a bit less cryptic.”
“Do you feel as though you must follow our protectors?”
“Yes. It’s the poxiest thing, but I can’t seem to do anything else.”
“Then keep moving.” Luks ran faster to catch up with the two Savaanim.
“Curse it,” Sheyn said under his breath as he hurried after him.
Luks was beginning to flag when they reached a clearing among some willows by a stream. Two massive horses in leather tack studded with bronze stood under one of the ancient trees. The chargers’ reins trailed on the ground as they moved toward the men. Kashyan and Djenya patted their horses’ glossy necks and murmured to them.
“There you see the bond between a warrior and his steed,” Luks said.
“There are only two steeds,” Sheyn pointed out.
“We ride with our masters.”
“You’re joking.”
“Do you really think I’d joke at this moment?”
Sheyn turned his back on Luks and watched as Kashyan swung up into the saddle of the blue roan charger. The tall, heavily muscled animal looked capable of carrying double, but Sheyn had no wish to share a mount with a barbarian raider. When he looked back, he saw Luks already on the chestnut behind the fair-haired man.
“Come,” Kashyan said sternly as he held out his hand.
When Sheyn didn’t move, Kashyan came closer. Sheyn wanted to run, but he was rooted to the spot. The barbarian took hold of his arm and hoisted him up to lie belly-down over a saddle that was little more than a piece of leather over felt padding. Limp as a sack of rice, he bounced helplessly as Kashyan urged the horse to a faster pace.
“WE’RE ACROSS the border,” Djenya called out. “And dusk will be on us soon. Why don’t we stop for the night?”
“We have an hour or more of daylight left,” Kashyan called back.
“Are you so eager to return to camp and face your brother’s wrath?”
“Where should we spend the night, then?”
“If we ride on, we’ll be in the open, but if we stop now, we’ll be under the cover of the forest.”
“Choose a spot, then.”
“We passed a trapper’s cabin on the way in. Can you find it again?” Djenya grinned as Kashyan took up the challenge.
As the sun sank below the tops of the trees, Kashyan led them to a stone-and-timber cabin in a corner of a small meadow.
“I’ll take care of the horses if you can manage dinner,” Kashyan said as he dismounted.
“You have a bargain.” Djenya dismounted and helped Luks down.
Kashyan put Sheyn over his shoulder and carried him into the cabin. After dropping Sheyn on a cot, he left him there and went to feed the horses.
Luks entered the cabin behind Djenya and came to where Sheyn was sitting. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Of course not. I’ve been kidnapped, sold into slavery, assaulted, and abducted. And I was made to ride in a most undignified manner.” Sheyn swiveled his neck. “My entire body is sore.”
“You’d have an easier time of it if you’d just—”
“What?” Sheyn said loudly. “If you’re going to advise me to surrender to these barbarians, you can save your breath.”
Luks glanced nervously at Djenya. “Lower your voice. Did they teach you nothing?”
“Who?”
Luks’s frown grew deeper. “You’ve no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“By the Goddess’s law, only She and Her priests can create a daaksi in Her Shrine at Djenaes. You’ve never been in Djenaes, have you?”
“I was on my way to Weijan when I was kidnapped. That’s near Djenaes, isn’t it?”
Luks frowned. “This is very bad,”
he said, ignoring Sheyn’s question.
“Yes, I agree.” Sheyn paused. “What’s a daaksi?”
“How can you not know what you are?”
“I know I’m a prince of the House of Merisolle, but who do you think I am?”
“You’re a daaksi like me.” Luks saw the look of irritation on Sheyn’s fine features and hurried on. “In the Dawn of the World, the Gods and Goddesses walked this realm and created nations and people, each to His or Her own design.”
“Yes, that’s a fairly common creation myth, but go on.”
“Only Anaali stood apart and created no tribe. Many years went by, and the different clans of men warred with one another, with their patron Gods joining in, until the numbers of man dwindled. The Gods met and agreed to retreat beyond the Threshold, all save Taankh, God of the Shadoworld, and Anaali of the Moon. Taankh and Anaali submitted to the judgment of their brother and sister deities and each gave their reasons for staying. After deliberation, the council favored Anaali, and Taankh was forced to leave and His children were banished as well.”
“That’s fascinating,” Sheyn said sincerely. “Tell me more about this Anaali.”
“Anaali is the Goddess of the Moon, the Lady of the Sword. She alone of the Gods remained to wander this world spreading Her Blessings. Under Her hand, the plants, the beasts, and man prospered and grew numerous again. Kings arose and looked covetously upon the kingdoms of others. When Anaali beheld the return of strife, She was disappointed and heartsore, but after a time, She grew determined to stop the violence.”
“It seems She failed,” Sheyn said. “But tell me what She did.”
“She created Her tribe at last. Djeyd Flamehair, Araan Fairbairn, Yozi Brighteyes, Khandi Heartsease, Pharaan the Golden, Taafi Honeytongue, Oseah Swanneck, Gaazi Silkenlocks, Fasha the Wise, and Treijan Moonborn. There were only ten, ten daaksim, one of each nation, one for each king, and they were the most perfect creatures ever formed.”
“How so?”
“At great sacrifice, She imbued each daaksi with a measure of Her divine life force. None of the other Gods did this, and so their children were doomed to age and suffer damage. Anaali’s daaksim didn’t grow old and they healed instantly. They were faster, stronger, and cleverer than other mortals. And they were beautiful, a perfect blend of the best traits of man and woman with an irresistible allure.”
“If they live forever, where are they now?”
“She took them back into the Unseen Realm.”
“Why?”
“Why don’t you just let me tell the story?”
“Please continue,” Sheyn said stiffly.
“Anaali sent a daaksi to each of the rulers of the ten tribes, to bring comfort, beauty, and joy to their lives. For a time, there was peace as the daaksim influenced the rulers to build up their nations rather than destroy others. But men are men and ever covetous, and war returned as they fought over ownership of the daaksim.”
“How ironic.”
Luks glanced at Sheyn before he began speaking again. “Anaali called all the rulers to council and gave them a choice. They could keep the daaksim and rule over peaceful, prosperous kingdoms, or She could bestow on Her priests the ability to turn an ordinary young man into a diminished version of a daaksi, thus allowing any with royal blood who had enough power and wealth to possess one. Do I have to tell you what choice they made?” He sighed. “Anaali was so disheartened that She took Her daaksim and disappeared. And that is why She’s called the Lost Goddess. Her only remaining temple is the Shrine in Djenaes.”
“Have you finished?”
Luks nodded.
“May I ask questions now?”
Luks nodded again.
“How could this happen to me?”
“I don’t know,” Luks said. “But I don’t like it.”
“Well, I’m not happy about it either.”
Luks chewed his lower lip a moment and then spoke again. “It shouldn’t be possible, but you exist, so I must accept that the rules have somehow changed. I wish I could speak with someone at the Shrine.”
Impatient, Sheyn sought more information. “Why couldn’t I run away?”
“Because a sacred, unbreakable bond exists between you and—” Luks fell silent as Kashyan entered the cabin.
Kashyan glanced distrustfully at the daaksim as he crossed to the hearth. “That smells better than expected,” he said to Djenya.
“Last of the rabbit jerky with a few roots. The stew will be thin, but it’ll warm our bellies.” Djenya pointed a toe at a large wooden box. “Crockery in there,” he said. “I don’t know who the trapper is, but he’s well-provisioned.”
“I’m just glad it’s not trapping season.”
“Truly. I’ll leave a few coins for our use of his belongings.”
“What kind of raider pays for what he steals?” Kashyan joked.
Djenya grinned. “Speaking of loot,” he said, tossing a look at Luks and Sheyn.
“What about them?”
“Are you made of wood? Look at them. Don’t you want to—?”
“No! I don’t. I’d as soon chop off my right hand as put my jaavi in one of those witches.”
“You’re missing out on a rare opportunity.”
“I’m not interested.”
“You can’t let one bad experience put you off for life.”
“Yes, I can. If you’ve a mind to top one or both, have at them, but stop trying to persuade me. I’m not one to trade a few moments of pleasure for a lifetime of regret.”
“But it’s a few moments of divine pleasure.”
Kashyan noisily took pottery bowls and wooden spoons from the cache box, and Djenya fell silent until the stew was ready. Djenya ladled stew into the bowls Kashyan held, and Kashyan set two down near the cot. Luks picked them up and handed one to Sheyn.
“Thank you, my lord,” Luks said.
“I’m not your lord, and I don’t want your thanks, lapwarmer,” Kashyan said.
“There’s no need for rudeness,” Sheyn snapped without thinking.
Luks gasped. “Pearl, no!”
“Speak to me in that tone again and you’ll earn yourself a slap,” Kashyan said.
“From you?” Sheyn sneered.
Luks took hold of Sheyn’s arm and turned him until they were facing. “Please, stop.”
Sheyn’s pride would not let him stop. “You think I’m afraid of these savages?”
“You would be if you were smarter,” Luks answered.
“Be quiet and eat your stew,” Kashyan said. “The sound of your voices annoys me.”
It was Sheyn’s opinion that most things probably annoyed Kashyan, to judge from the constant scowl, but he held his tongue. He wasn’t afraid of a slap, but he didn’t want one, either. Resentfully, he ate the watery stew. When Luks and Sheyn were finished eating, Luks carried the bowls to where Kashyan and Djenya were sitting.
“Forgive me for interrupting,” Luks said. “What will I do with these?”
Before Kashyan could speak, Djenya answered. “Leave them on the hearth.”
“Lord?”
“I’m not a lord,” Djenya said. “But ask your question.”
“May I know your names?”
“I’m called Djenya Fairhair. My noble companion is Kashyan of Savaan.”
Luks took a step back.
“You’ve heard of me?” Kashyan asked wryly.
“Everyone knows of the Bastard of Savaan.”
“You show a proper respect, at least,” Kashyan said. “Why don’t you explain to your friend why he should fear me?”
Luks bowed and hurried back to Sheyn.
“What did they say to you?” Sheyn asked.
“We’ve been taken captive by Prince Kashyan, the Bastard of Savaan.”
“That means nothing to me.”
“He has a fearsome reputation. They say he’s ruthless in battle and has the strength of three men. I have also heard that he killed a daaksi with his bare hands.�
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“I could well believe it of such a brute.” Sheyn glanced at Kashyan. “What makes him so angry all the time?”
“He’s a bastard.”
“Literally?”
“What?”
“Are you saying his mother and father weren’t wed?”
“His mother was queen, but the king refused to claim him.”
“I see.” Sheyn watched Djenya rise and walk toward him. “What does he want?”
Luks looked over his shoulder, gauged the look in Djenya’s eyes, and then stood.
Djenya stopped in front of Luks and ran a hand over Luks’s auburn curls. “You’re very pretty,” Djenya said.
“What do you want?” Sheyn asked as he got to his feet.
“Stay out of it,” Luks told him.
“Tell me this beast doesn’t intend to—”
“I intend to enjoy this pretty boy,” Djenya said to Sheyn. “Do as he says, and stay out of it.”
Djenya dismissed Sheyn from his attention as he took hold of the hem of Luks’s tunic and pulled it up. Sheyn stepped forward, shoved Djenya hard, and swung a fist at him. Knuckles met nose with a distinct popping sound, and Djenya reeled back, holding his hands over his face.
“What are you playing at over there?” Kashyan asked.
Djenya turned, and Kashyan saw the blood pouring from between Djenya’s fingers. Kashyan’s eyes went to the daaksim, and he saw Sheyn standing in front of Luks with his fist cocked.
“Did Snowhair do that?” Kashyan asked his friend.
Djenya nodded. “Hurts like fire.”
“Let me see.”
Kashyan walked over and Djenya let his hands drop to his sides. After looking at the damage for a moment, Kashyan grabbed Djenya’s nose and twisted it.
“That hurt even worse,” Djenya complained.
“But when it heals, you’ll be as handsome as ever. Wash off the blood before it crusts.”
Grumbling, Djenya went to the bucket, saw it was empty, and went out to the well.
“I should beat you for striking my friend,” Kashyan told Sheyn.
“Then beat me, but for Leynys’s sake, don’t bore me talking about it. Your voice annoys me.”
Luks hissed at Sheyn. “What is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with you?” Sheyn countered. “Why do you cower before these swine?”
The Bastard’s Pearl Page 6