“I wasn’t flirting,” Sheyn said indignantly. “And make up your mind. Do you want me to be nice to them or not?”
“You have a master. You should spend your time pleasing him.” Luks paused. “I can see that you’re used to everyone trying to please you, but things are different now.”
“I don’t like your way of doing things,” Sheyn said as he relaxed against the piled bedding.
“You don’t even care that your master may have to fight today, do you?”
“I think he enjoys it.”
“Your heart is made of stone.”
“You’re not the first to tell me that.” Sheyn covered a yawn with his hand. “Now, do you mind if we speak later? I’d like to sleep for a while.”
Luks almost said something critical but reflected that Pearl had been through a lot that day. He made himself comfortable and let the other daaksi sleep until they started moving. Sheyn woke and crawled to the back of the wagon. He opened the curtains and leaned out to look at the train of wagons, horses, and marching men. The trooper riding off the corner of the cart nodded briefly to Sheyn before Luks pulled Sheyn back in and yanked the curtains closed.
“Have you no modesty?” Luks asked.
“Not when compared to you, though I was considered very well-mannered by my friends.”
“You were about to speak to that warrior, weren’t you?”
“I like talking and finding out new things. I’d very much like to know the name of the region we’re heading toward.” Sheyn put his eye to the crack between the curtains. “And the name of that tree we just passed.”
Luks knelt beside Sheyn and peered. “Which tree?”
“It’s gone now. Wait! There’s another like it, though not as tall.”
“That’s djunir. The leaves stay green all year. The Muergathim make a fermented syrup from the sap. It’s very costly and can have a man seeing wood nymphs after a few drinks of it.”
“You have wood nymphs here?”
Luks frowned. “Of course not. They’re just creatures in legends. Do you have wood nymphs where you’re from?”
“Dey Larone,” Sheyn said. “And no, we don’t. No wood nymphs, nor water nymphs, nor dragons, nor demons, either. Nothing magical at all.”
“No magic? What about your Gods and Goddesses?”
“We worship Leynys. He’s our only God, and he was a man before he became divine.”
“You’re trying to make a fool of me.”
“I’m telling you the truth.”
“I can’t imagine your homeland.”
“I wish I could take you there, right now.”
“Well, you can’t. Why don’t you try to fall asleep again? I’ll finish braiding your hair if you like.”
“I’d like that,” Sheyn said, and Luks moved closer. “You know, it’s very good of you to look after me, but I wish you didn’t worry so much.”
“Be quiet and try to sleep,” Luks said. He unraveled the hair he’d braided a few hours ago and combed out the shining, rippled locks.
Despite the swaying of the cart, or because of it, Sheyn fell into a deep sleep as Luks sang softly. After a few minutes, Luks became drowsy and leaned back against a stack of bundled cushions. As he was dropping off, someone pulled the curtains open, and Luks was instantly wide-awake.
“Softly,” Kashyan said. “Don’t wake Pearl.”
“I won’t, lord,” Luks whispered.
“I just wanted to see that you were all right.” Kashyan leaped down from the back of the cart and caught up with Karkaran running alongside. He swung up into the saddle and rode to the front of the column.
Chapter 15
IT TOOK a day to cross the plain and another to navigate the foothills. Apart from regular stops to rest the beasts, the Horde of the Hawk traveled by moonlight as well as by sun. By the second night, Sheyn was heartily sick of sleeping in the wagon. When he woke feeling sore, it was noticeably colder. He pulled a blanket around his shoulders and peeked out of the curtains. It was dark, but he could see more djunir trees, and the ground was rocky. From the way the wagon bed was tilted, he assumed they were entering highlands.
“Do you know what mountains these are?” he asked.
“We’re probably over the border by now. This land is a vast hunting preserve that belongs to the high king. We’re probably on Mount Eyrie.”
“How long did I sleep?”
“Half the night. Prince Kashyan came by again to check on you.”
“Why would I care?” Sheyn shivered. “Is it going to get colder?”
“Probably. Let’s put the blanket over both of us. And here’s another.”
Sheyn flinched when Luks put an arm around him, but the warmth was welcome and he soon relaxed. Though he’d slept for hours, he drifted off again with Luks’s even breathing in his ear. When he woke again, it was dark, and he could tell by the motion that the cart was not on a road any longer. Luks woke, and they looked outside.
“We’re making camp,” said one of the guards.
The wagons were lined up in rows in the large meadow, and the draft beasts were unhitched to graze. Horses were unsaddled and bedrolls laid out beside them. Everyone ate a cold dinner and went to sleep, except for the sentries and scouts.
Sheyn and Luks weren’t the least bit sleepy. After they ate the bread and cheese brought by one of the quartermaster’s errand runners, they fell into conversation.
“You seem different since the Red Temple abducted you,” Luks said.
“Seeing my first demon did have an effect on me.”
“No, I’m not talking about the shock. I expected that. This is something else. I can’t quite get my mind to focus on it, but there’s something different about you.”
“Well, I found out that I heal instantly and that I’m going to live for a very long time without getting old. Both of those things are difficult to accept.”
Luks shook his head. “You’re not like any daaksi I’ve ever known. Maybe it’s only that you’re the first foreign daaksi I’ve ever known.” He frowned. “And how can someone not of Kandaar become one of the Goddess’s chosen?”
“You’re worrying again. That will give you wrinkles.”
“Why don’t you feel the bond?” Luks said. “Except for one time, you haven’t felt the separation sickness, have you?”
“I hope you’re not looking to me for answers. I’m a scholar, but this is out of my realm.”
“What happened the first time Prince Kashyan bedded you?”
“You must be joking with me. I’d never allow that swine to touch me.”
“You haven’t—?”
“No!”
“Unbelievable,” Luks whispered.
“What?”
“I’m just amazed at Prince Kashyan’s restraint.”
“Restraint? He has none.”
“He hasn’t thrown you down and topped you, though he must burn for you.”
“He wouldn’t dare force me, and I’ll not consent to it.”
“You feel no desire for him?”
“Of course not,” Sheyn lied. In fact, he felt uncomfortably aroused when he was near Kashyan, but nothing would make him admit it.
“I was wrong. You haven’t changed. You’re as hard-headed and willful as ever.” Luks softened his voice. “If you don’t complete the bond—”
“And why would I want to do that?”
“It’s your destiny.”
Sheyn made a rude noise.
“If the bond doesn’t exist, why don’t you run away?” Luks asked.
Sheyn was quiet for a long time before he spoke again. “I can’t deny that something holds me here. But I won’t mate with that savage. When I choose a partner, he’ll come from one of the finest families in the Deysian Protectorate. He’ll be an educated man and quite wealthy. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wielded a fair amount of political power.”
“How can you still be lying to yourself?”
“Why do you want me to give u
p hope?”
“Your life has changed in a way that cannot be changed back. One day, you’ll believe that.”
“I don’t want to. And I will never rut with that savage.”
“It’s no use talking to you,” Luks said.
“ANYTHING?” KHOLYA asked as Kashyan rode up to him. The commander’s well-trained stallion showed his teeth but tolerated the nearness of Kashyan’s charger.
“Nothing. We rode the perimeter twice. The sentries haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary.”
“The scouts report the same.” Kholya dismounted and stretched. “Great Raas, it feels good to be out of the saddle.”
Kashyan dismounted and gave Djenya a hand signal. The lieutenant led the Black Hawks away, taking Kashyan’s horse with him.
“Eat with me,” Kholya said.
“No. I’m going to look in on the daaksim.”
“Then let’s find a loaf and a skin of something, and I’ll go with you.”
Kholya and Kashyan acquired a round loaf and a jug of beer as they walked toward the line of wagons. They devoured the bread in chunks and washed it down with the flat beer.
“I’ve given some thought to claiming the Sumadi boy,” Kholya said.
“I think he suits you, if you want to court that kind of trouble.”
“He takes care of me, and he’s easy to be with.”
“Have you taken him?”
“Of course.”
“Liar.”
“There hasn’t been time.”
“Crawl into the wagon with him when we get there. I’ll take the other one out of the way.”
“Do you like him any better yet?” Kholya grinned. “Has his strange beauty bewitched you?”
“Of course,” Kashyan said in the same tone Kholya had used.
“Have you taken him?”
“There hasn’t been time.” Kashyan paused. “I do want him, though.”
“I’d be very surprised if you didn’t. You’re a hard man, brother, but you’re human.”
Kashyan clenched his fists. “This has to be some joke of the Gods. I despise daaksim.”
“Take him and ease your pain. Truthfully, it will be a relief for both of you.”
Kashyan threw a chunk of bread that bounced off Kholya’s ear. “I’d have to gag him so I wouldn’t lose my desire.”
“Then gag him. He’s your daaksi.”
“Would you?”
“No, probably not. I prefer my bed partners willing.”
“And there you have my answer as well.”
Kholya patted Kashyan’s shoulder as they reached the far end of the line of wagons. “You’re a pitiful excuse for a man, but I love you.”
“LET’S TALK about something else,” Sheyn said. “It’s boring just sitting here.”
“All right. Tell me again, is it really true that women are the equals of men in your land?”
“Yes, it’s true,” Sheyn said. “Women in my country own property. There are female merchants and artists and every other occupation you can imagine.”
“Next you’ll tell me there are women warriors.”
“Well… there are women in the Imperial Honor Guard. They don’t fight, but they look very fine in their armor.”
“You’re making all this up. It’s not—”
Sheyn held up a hand and Luks stopped talking. Both listened intently for a few seconds.
“I thought I heard someone outside,” Sheyn said.
“It was the guards walking around.”
“No. I’m used to the sound of their footsteps.”
As Sheyn finished speaking, something struck the cart, jostling it. Sheyn looked at Luks and then crept to the back of the wagon. He looked out through the crack and saw a Savaani soldier fall to the ground with a knife in his throat.
“We’re being attacked,” Sheyn said. “Can we get out the front of the wagon?”
Luks nodded. “We can squeeze between the covering and the wood.”
“Come on, then.”
Without questions or argument, Luks followed Sheyn. When they were both on the ground in front of the cart, they saw the body of the other guard. They heard the sound of curtains being yanked open and a muffled curse. Sheyn flattened himself in the snow-patched grass and started crawling away from the wagon. Luks hesitated and then threw himself under the cart as a man dashed from behind it.
The dark-clad stranger whistled, and three more men in identical tunics and head wraps surrounded Sheyn. Luks darted in the opposite direction in search of help and ran into Kashyan and Kholya. Kashyan took Luks by the arm to steady him.
“Where are you going?” Kashyan asked.
“Pearl!” Luks gasped. “Raiders!” He pointed at the cart.
Kashyan and Kholya drew their swords as they broke into a run. Four men walked from the cover of the wagon with Sheyn in the middle. Sheyn’s wrists were bound behind him, and he was gagged, but his feet were free. The kidnappers saw Kashyan and Kholya and drew their weapons. Three stood their ground while one fled with Sheyn.
“Take one of them down and go after the daaksi,” Kholya said. “I can handle the other two.”
There was no more time for speech. The five men met in a flurry of flying metal. The intruders fought well and without a care for their lives. They were ready to sacrifice themselves so their leader could escape with the Temple’s prize. The sounds of fighting attracted attention, and soon more Savaani warriors arrived.
“Go!” Kholya shouted at his brother. “I have more than enough help.”
Kashyan didn’t hesitate long enough to reply. He dodged around the man he was fighting and ran after Sheyn.
SHEYN RECOGNIZED the scent of the man who was gripping his upper arm. It was the same man who’d kidnapped him before and taken him to the Temple. Sheyn fought the fear that wanted to paralyze him and worked at the ropes around his wrists. His bonds had been hastily tied, and he managed to loosen them enough to slip them off. Letting the cords fall to the ground, he reached up and removed his gag. After taking a deep breath, he shouted for help.
Mardjan flinched, then whirled around to give Sheyn a backhanded slap. Sheyn bent backward from the waist and easily avoided the blow. Mardjan grabbed for Sheyn, and Sheyn danced away almost too fast for the eye to follow.
A Savaani sentry ran up with his sword drawn and shouted a challenge. As Mardjan turned to face the soldier, he drew and released his dagger. The knife pierced the sentry’s throat, silencing him. The soldier reached up to grab the hilt and a second dagger entered his eye socket. As the soldier crumpled, Mardjan spun about to chase Sheyn, but to his surprise the daaksi wasn’t running away. Sheyn was running toward the fallen man. Mardjan thanked Taankh for his luck as he launched himself at Sheyn. He was surprised again when the daaksi turned and faced him. In Sheyn’s hand was the sentry’s sword.
Kashyan ran up as the gleaming point of a sword appeared between Mardjan’s shoulder blades. At the other end of the sword, Sheyn was frozen in a lunge that would have made his fencing master proud. He’d driven the tip of the blade up under the Red Monk’s ribcage exactly as Tezwar had taught him, keeping his wrist straight as he followed through. Mardjan had died when the sword pierced his heart, and it was the only thing holding him up.
Kashyan went to Sheyn as more soldiers arrived. Sheyn looked up as Kashyan stopped beside him.
“You can drop the sword now,” Kashyan said. “He’s dead.”
Sheyn didn’t react.
“Let go of the sword,” Kashyan ordered. He saw how the young man’s arm muscles quivered with strain, and he reached out to take the sword from him.
Sheyn wrenched the blade free and put the point under Kashyan’s chin. Though he’d had years of extensive training with a fencing saber, he’d never been in a real fight until tonight. His nerves were singing like a plucked bowstring, and his racing blood made him reckless. He’d killed once. What difference would another death make?
“Easy there,” Kashyan said. “I
can see you’re on edge, but you don’t want to kill me.”
“I don’t?”
“All right. Maybe you do want to kill me, but it would be a bad idea. If you kill me, these men will kill you. And they might not do it quickly.”
“Oh very well. Can I keep this sword?” Sheyn said as he lowered the blade.
“Can you keep—?” Kashyan blinked. “You want a sword?”
“Let him keep it,” someone called out from the crowd. “He earned it.”
Kholya arrived, and despite circumstances, had a difficult time keeping a grin from his face. “Do you need any help?” he asked Kashyan.
“I’d disarm him, but I don’t want to hurt him,” Kashyan said.
“Don’t speak of me as if I’m not here,” Sheyn said.
“May I have the sword?” Kholya asked. “It should go to the man’s family. He might have a son.”
Sheyn handed the sword to Kholya. “I feel odd,” he said. “I’ve never killed anyone.”
“Do you feel like you’re going to lose your dinner?” Kholya asked.
“It’s a bit like that.”
“Let Kashyan take you back to the wagon. Luks will make you feel better, I’m sure.”
“He wants you to claim him,” Sheyn said distantly as he listed to one side.
Kashyan put a hand under Sheyn’s elbow and kept him upright. When Sheyn sagged, Kashyan put an arm around his back.
“Take him to bed,” Kholya said and looked surprised at the sound of cheers. “Why are you all standing around gawking?” he said to the crowd. “Go back to your posts, rascals.”
Sheyn was asleep on his feet when Kashyan got him back to the wagon. Kashyan lifted him inside, and Luks put a pillow under Sheyn’s head.
“What happened, lord?” Luks asked.
“He killed the man who tried to kidnap him.”
Luks gasped. “Surely he didn’t.”
“He did, though. Ran the villain through as neat as you please.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. Let him sleep. I’ll be back at first light.”
IN THE Temple, the high priest received word of Mardjan’s failure and ordered the messenger out of the chamber. He rose from his chair, paced, and raged against the outcast Savaani princes. When his fury was spent, he turned to the acolyte standing silently by the door.
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