by Amy Little
Zak nodded to himself as he thought through her words. “I want to show you something,” he said, after a few moments.
“What?”
“I didn’t disappoint you the first time” he said, “When I took you to the city. Nor the second time. Will you not trust me once more?”
“Dragon’s Mouth,” she whispered. The journey under the castle now seemed like a vague dream. “No more surprises, Zak.”
“You will appreciate this. A place where you can practice healing, undisturbed,” he said, trying not to picture what it would feel like to run his hands over her shoulders, over her hips, her smooth skin pressing against him. He had been wondering, worrying about her. Thoughts of her kept surfacing regularly during the last few weeks. Seeing her next to him now was almost too much temptation for him to bear. Patience, he reminded himself.
Annika narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What is this place? How do you know of it?”
“It’s a military school. I instruct soldiers there, teaching them hand to hand combat. The school is mine.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“There is no shortage of injured fighters there,” said Zak, ignoring her comment. “Severe injuries are rare, but for these men, any injury can jeopardize their livelihood. You can also treat others. Women, children, anyone who seeks you out. They can see you on the school’s premises. You will be working for yourself, with no obligation to me. And you will be protected. For one, it’s widely known that the school is affiliated with the House of the Wolf. For another, it is a place frequented by well-trained soldiers. No one would dare challenge you there, not the preachers, nor anyone else.”
“Why are you helping me?” Anika quietly asked, realizing the generosity of his offer.
Zak took her hands into his. “I’ve been thinking of you. I don’t know what it is, but I’m drawn to you, Annika.”
She could feel his touch prompt inside her the stirrings of desire. She shifted her gaze from his eyes to his lips, then away, then tried to take her hands from him.
He held on to her. “I want to kiss you. I want to feel your body pressed to mine. I want to feel your lips on mine, your hips against me.”
“Don’t speak of it,” she said softly, feeling herself weaken.
“I want to make love to you,” he said. “I want your naked body beside me. I want my breath to run the length of your body. I want to merge, to feel one with you.”
With all her strength she pushed away the want that streamed through her like a fever. “I will not be yours, Fifth Prince of the House of the Wolf. Nothing can or will happen between us.”
“Fine.” Zak told himself to release the tension he felt. “That’s fine. Then just let me show you the school.”
Annika shook her head vehemently. “You can’t bribe my affection!”
“You’re being cruel,” said Zak. “The men who train there need healing. If you want nothing more, I will honor your wishes. Our association will be strictly professional. Will you at least come and see it?”
Annika felt skeptical. It’s a trap, something inside her screamed. He is a Wolf. He is not to be trusted!
But there was another part inside her that wanted to be trapped, if he were the one to trap her. She stood still, unable to decide either way.
“You’re not afraid are you?”
“I have never let fear stop me!”
Zak tried not to smile. Her passionate nature, always just under the calm exterior, moved him like no other woman has. “Then, unless fear stops you, I will meet you here tomorrow morning and walk you to the school.”
“I can find my own way there,” she found herself saying.
“Avenue Athol.”
“Avenue Athol,” she repeated, not sure how it was that she was talked around to this.
“I will see you there tomorrow morning, Second Princess of the House of the Tiger,” Zak formally said.
She mumbled something, desperately casting about for a way to back out, but nothing came to mind. She could not go back to her word. She would not.
“Fare well, my princess,” said Zak, leaving her with a kiss on her hand.
Annika watched him glide across the dark hallway and out into the rain. He moved with lithe, smooth, dangerous grace. She felt once again overwhelming desire for him surged through her. She felt weak. She leaned against the wall.
The thick mantle cushioned the wall’s coldness.
Annika pressed Zak’s mantle closer to her. For a moment, she felt she was pressing him to her. She closed her eyes and let her lips touch the mantle.
It was rough and yet soothing.
Annika knew that each time she sees him, the desire will be just as strong.
What if she is unable to control it?
She was playing with fire, she said to herself. Then she admonished herself for being afraid.
A Tiger Princess could not be afraid.
And if she was, Annika said to herself, she would never show that fear to anyone; Zak, least of all.
The following morning, Annika woke up with a headache.
The light coming in through the half-closed shutters seemed far too bright. It was also cold.
So cold, that she shrieked a little when she hopped out of the bed to close the shutters. After that, she promptly returned to bed.
The streaks of light slowly crept along the floor towards the head of the bed.
Annika watched them as though mesmerized. How was it that she had agreed to see Zak’s military academy? What was she thinking?
She tried to close her eyes and drift back to sleep. When that failed, she tossed a few times, following each uncomfortable twist with an annoyed little grunt.
She said to herself that she didn’t commit to anything. She tried to think through what the day would bring: The military academy probably would be filthy. It would be full of armed men bristling with aggression. They wouldn’t want to be treated by her. They could never take her seriously. Zak’s proposal for her to set up her healing practice at his academy could never work.
Annika settled in the bed with a sigh.
A small part of her wanted to set up her healing practice somewhere near Zak. She pictured to herself seeing him around the center, brushing against him in corridors. Her hands brushing against his…
The slanting shutters let in enough sun to light the furthest corners of the room. In one corner, a mouse sat on its hind legs.
Annika jumped off the bed, looking for something to throw at the creature, and cursing out loud that this was the worst inn she had ever stayed at.
The mouse fled.
Annika made her decision as she pulled on her clothes, hastily, not wishing to extend the time she spent in the tiny room. She knew what she will do. She told herself she will see Zak’s academy, if only to keep her word, find reasons why she can’t accept his proposal, and then look for a place elsewhere to set up her stall. It will be easy, she said to herself, not believing it for a moment.
Annika found herself slowing as she neared the academy.
Avenue Athol was almost deserted, even amongst the century-old cypresses that grew in the wide strip in the middle of the avenue and where lovers strode in all weather and all seasons.
Annika had always loved these trees. She remembered many happy days spent playing with Cara under the cypress tree in their castle yard.
These trees’ trunks were in some cases the width of a large cart. Such enormous trees planted close together made it seem that one was moving through a forest – a forest that grew ever denser the closer one came to the end of the avenue where stood the castle of the House of the Wolf.
On the other side of the walkway, opposite the cypresses, rose stately houses. They were four or five stories, well painted, and, without exception, with glazed windows.
Annika could not help but wonder how much the glazing on a single house would have cost, remembering that her even father could only afford to glaze the residential wings.
The academy was in one of the more grand houses on the street. The house was elegant, painted in light blue, and with an impeccable fresh coat of paint. Like the trees, it was hundreds of years old.
Annika looked at it for a few minutes, trying to find faults. She found none. She had to admit to herself that she loved this building. She pictured to herself a small, tasteful gold plaque outside the second entrance to the side of the main door, that would read, “Princess Annika – Healer”.
The small expanse of lawn outside the house was closely shorn, with the surrounding hedges carefully manicured. Thin smoke rose from the chimney. Annika thought that this would be the sort of house in which a very well off family could comfortably live with all its servants.
If it weren’t for the large gold letters on the deep blue door that proclaimed “In Strength We Trust”, with the words under it “Military Academy”, she never would have guessed what was there.
Annika pursed her lips closed. No doubt, it would be extremely run-down inside. She hoped it would be.
“Annika,” someone called out.
Annika turned in surprise.
Zak waved to her. He stood bent over, in order to fit in the low gate that was cut into a small wall at the side of the house, which looked comical, with his obviously uncomfortable pose. Despite this, he looked happy.
Annika tried not to smile at him. Without words, she followed him inside the courtyard.
The courtyard was to one side of the house. It was a neat yard, paved with small stones, and bordered by flower beds. Each bed contained a combination of green and yellow evergreen plants.
It was neat and calming, Annika thought. It was the sort of courtyard in which she could see herself taking a lunchtime stroll.
Behind a statue of an unusual beast with three heads and a pair of scaly wings, two men stood a couple of meters apart. They rested their weights on wooden slats that they used as training swords, and which they held in their hands, breathing heavily.
Annika apprehensively slowed her steps.
The fighters bowed to her respectfully.
Annika could not hide her surprise as they stepped out of the way as she and Zak passed. By the looks of them, they would not have let anything stop them from settling some score with one another.
“These two had fought in my battalions,” said Zak, showing her up a set of steps and inside the house. “They are always the first to show at practice.”
Annika paid him no mind, taken as she was by the entry foyer.
The foyer was deep and tall and wide. The floor was smooth, white marble. Stained green and red windows on either side let in a playful mix of light. The ceiling was covered in red and gold mosaic depicting a swordsman fighting off a monster that surged from an improbably blue sea. And at the end of the foyer stood a small desk at which sat an elderly woman with a wizened, fierce look.
“Who is this,” Annika whispered to Zak.
“Princess Annika,” said Zak, introducing them, “of the House of the Tiger. And this is old Cynthia, my administrator. I could not run this academy without her.”
The woman stood up and curtseyed.
“Have you worked for Prince Zak for long?” Annika asked, to gain more time to inspect the woman.
The woman seemed old, very old. She had a deeply wrinkled face, thin neck from which fell folds of skin, and had grey-white hair that was pulled back in a bun. At odds with the this severe appearance, was the laughing glint in her eyes.
The woman said, “I was already a grandmother when Zak came under my charge. He was just two months then.”
“Old Cynthia was my nanny,” Zak clarified. “She’s looked after me and most of my siblings. Now that they’ve no need for her, she’s decided she wants to stay in Karrum rather than return to her farm.”
“What used to be my farm,” Old Cynthia corrected him. She spoke in a high-pitched voice that could have belonged to a young girl. “With the constant raids from the brigands, there’s just the burnt out shell that’s left.”
“That’s because the brigands haven’t had Old Cynthia exhort them to eat their greens. They’d be gone well before the next meal.”
“Two months of age when I took him,” old Cynthia said, addressing Annika. “And he already deserved a spanking. Nothing’s changed.”
Annika decided that she liked the woman.
Mumbling that it’s time to move on, Zak led Annika around the desk and up the marble staircase.
“Is she okay with you calling her old,” Annika whispered to Zak when she was sure old Cynthia could not hear.
“It’s said she was born old and never aged,” Zak said. “So that’s what her parents had called her. She’s certainly not aged since I’d known her.”
Annika nodded, although his explanation seemed strange. Still, there were too many things to occupy her attention. She carefully took in all that she saw.
The balusters on the staircase were beautifully carved. They started with a thinly threaded pattern and worked up to a carved head of a wolf, or a leaf motif, or a lumpy and stylized carving of a Memory Beast. The balustrade was carved from a single, long piece of granite, that would have taken craftsmen many months to shape and adorn.
“I’d guess your House owns this property,” said Annika. “That baluster alone would be enough to buy good accommodation for five families in Karrum.”
“It did belong to my House. Now, it is mine,” answered Zak.
“Early inheritance?”
Zak shrugged. “More of a bribe.”
“I can’t imagine why your own House needs to bribe you.”
“I’m an embarrassment to them,” said Zak, and grinned.
Annika wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Seeing her skepticism, Zak explained, “The House likes being associated with success. For a while, while it lasted, my family were happy that I gained the Emperor’s favor. Unfortunately, my failure was as great as the success that preceded it.”
Annika did not have to ask what that failure was. She had heard of the battle six months earlier, where he had failed to attack the desert tribes, at the northern border of the Empire. Some had claimed it was cowardice. Annika found that impossible to believe. Still, there were parallels to her situation. “Are they as cold to you as my father and sister to me?”
“They’re terrified of losing the Emperor’s favor. So they want little to do with me.”
Annika nodded thoughtfully, feeling a sudden swell of pity for Zak.
They had passed an elegant landing at the top of the stairs and entered a large, long, airy room.
The décor in the room distracted Annika from the glum thoughts that the preceding conversation with Zak invoked.
Bared by open shutters, the room had four enormous, glazed windows that stretched almost from floor to ceiling. In each corner stood a marble statue. On the floor was a thick, luxurious black rug.
Annika wondered what it would be like to have her ankles caressed by the thick pile.
“My office,” said Zak, matter-of-fact, walking towards the desk and a chair by the window. On the desk was a stack of papers.
“It’s lovely,” said Annika, trying to take it all in.
The marble statues in the corners were of a woman with a bow, a man with the lower extremities of a goat, an angel, and a snake.
Annika was certain that not even the Emperor’s palace would have finer statues.
The only things that gave away the office’s martial orientation was a long, iron stand by one wall and the wallpaper. In the stand were placed, at regular intervals, over a dozen swords. As for the wallpaper, it ran along the bottom half of the otherwise white walls and depicted a battle scene in every gory detail.
Zak was pleased with Annika’s obvious fascination. He looked around, trying to see the room with her eyes. “I find I’m not up here often enough.”
“I would struggle to force myself to ever leave this room,” Annika confessed.
“You will ha
ve it mostly to yourself. Here, you can set up your desk,” Zak gestured towards the end window. “There will be plenty of light. A cabinet with your herbs can go along the far wall.”
Annika could picture it before her. She had to admit to herself that she wanted what he described. How could she refuse it? It took her enormous effort to shake her head. “No.”
“No? Then you will take another room. Most of the rooms in this house are unoccupied. You can choose any that you please. Let me show you.”
“I don’t need a tour,” said Annika, aiming for finality in her voice as she desperately sought a reason to leave. She had to leave before she found herself agreeing to something she would regret.
“You will probably like this,” said Zak. “There’s a library here.”
Annika did not feel like facing the piercing, laughing eyes of the woman downstairs on her own, nor the two fighters in the courtyard. She went after him.
Through a bright, light-filled corridor, a dozen or so steps from Zak’s office, was the library. The room was the size of a hall in a minor noble’s house. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves. The shelves struggled to house all of the leather tomes, with the overflow laying in neat stacks on the small tables in the corners.
Annika inhaled sharply. “There are more books here than in the rest of the Empire!”
“Unusually for someone of my House, my great-grandfather was an avid collector.”
The temptation she felt to agree, there and then, grew. Before she would succumb Annika quickly left the library through the nearest door.
It was a different door to the one through which they had entered. The door she chose led to a long gallery that projected over the hall below, which consisted of a large open space that stretched for the entire length of the house. The gallery ran above it, circling the open space.
Annika looked down with fascination.
Below, was a miniature arena of war. On one side, the one furthest away from them, was a sandpit. The sandpit bordered a brook that was two meters wide and that curved up one corner of the arena. That raised corner formed a sort of a hill that rose halfway up the height of the vast hall. The remainder of the arena was taken up with partitions that simulated the walls of a house, an obstacle course, and a ten meter long expanse of dense thickets.