As he felt sleep creeping up on him, he would almost always end his review with a silent plea and prayer to be brave and not let down the people he fought beside.
Nimbus and Azure spent a lot of time airborne, searching for any enemies in the outlying areas, and patrols rode out everyday. Drace made sure he was included in the rotation of men going out, but argued with Ki that she was needed more to keep things running smoothly at the stronghold. To his surprise, she agreed, but not before there had been some yelling. As strongly as he loved her, no other woman he had ever known could frustrate him as much as she did.
Things slowed with the first snows. Patrol and messengers still rode out unless it was a bad storm. The Clan Lionblade and its entire people were as prepared as possible.
One day, it snowed heavily and no one ventured out except for the basic chores. Ki gave Drace a tour of the castle. There never had seemed to be time before.
One room was a game room of sorts. It contained a table that was almost identical to a billiards table. A small side table held a chess set. How could a world so different be so similar, Drace had mused as they moved on to the next room.
She showed him another room that was an office of sorts where the business of Oralia was conducted. On a large desk lay open several ledgers. One of Ki’s retainers sat chewing a quill pen as he studied one such book with intent. Ki spoke quietly to the man for a while, as Drace looked around the study. Ki introduced the man to Drace before leaving him to his work.
When Ki showed Drace the library, he was overjoyed to find the multitude of books to be in formal English that he could follow. There were some in the Werren language, which to Drace looked very much like hieroglyphics. There were also several in Elvish and a few in the language of the dwarves. They went down the hall to a large room that Ki explained was a schoolroom. She and Cearan had been taught in that very room. Intrigued to know more about her, Drace perched himself on one of the smaller chairs. “What sort of student were you?” he asked, watching her as she roamed the room, looking at the students’ things.
Ki turned and gave him a distracted smile, “For the most part very good and I liked lessons. However, I preferred to be outside with my father. To follow him was always the highlight of my day. True punishment for me was to be sent to my room and not allowed outside for the rest of the day.”
Drace caught a glimpse of grief on her face before she turned away. Ki moved to another table and flipped over a small book. Still facing away from him, she added, “Cearan was the one to get thrashings for a misdeed. If Cearan received one from our tutor, he received another from Father. When Cearan became taller than I, it became a game to torment me.” She smiled. “Until he reached manhood, I could still overpower him. I gave him many a bloody nose. Father allowed us to work our differences out this way as long as we did not use man’s weapons. The powers of the Lion were allowed, but we preferred to use these.” She held up her fist chest high in a boxer’s pose.
“More sporting?” Drace queried, with a smile of his own.
“Something like that,” Ki chuckled. “Now if he annoys me I can just send him on some errand.” Eyes veiled in childhood memories, Ki continued, “I am two summers older than him, but sometimes I do wish Cearan had that honor and I could be someone else just for a day or so, and let him worry about all of this.”
Drace unfolded himself from his seat and took her in his arms. “‘All this,’ is part of you. You know the people and the land.” He leaned against a table and pulled her with him. “You know what you need?”
Ki pushed half-heartedly against his chest, “I think I might, but the children will be back from the midday meal soon.”
Drace pulled her closer to nibble on her neck for a moment then looked into her amber eyes. “I do like the way you think, my Lady, but that’s not where I was headed. I was thinking something fun that everyone could participate in: a party or a ball.”
Ki leaned back in his arms to look at him better. “What is a ‘ball’?”
Drace thought for a moment for a good explanation. “A ball is a formal gathering. Women wear beautiful dresses and men wear something really nice. There’s music and dancing, and usually a meal is served.”
Ki frowned as she thought. “We use to have a gathering every year at spring, but not since my father died. We also have an end of harvest feast, but with all that is going on I completely forgot it. No one even brought it to my attention.”
“So what do you think?” Drace asked. “Some wine, some music, maybe a little entertainment. It might lighten the mood around here a bit, even if only for a day or so.”
Ki stood rubbing her index finger absently over her lower lip. “In a seven day, do you think? That would give Estelle time to prepare the kitchen and have enough food.” She looked back at him and smiled, “Yes. Let us have your ball.”
Ki cupped his face and kissed him soundly. He pulled her close, holding her with his large hands on her bottom. The sound of a few children in the hall and coming closer broke them apart. “Later,” he whispered with a wink.
Chapter Eighteen
ESTELLE TOOK THE NEWS of a ball with her normal sense of excitement and threw herself into the preparations. Ki left most of the planning to Estelle with Drace adding helpful suggestions when needed.
Estelle, with the presence of a marine drill-sergeant, and the aid of several servants, turned the main hall into a gorgeous ballroom by the night of the affair. Table linen and tapestries had appeared along with silver that Ki had forgotten existed. The tables lined the wall and candles lit the room. A fire blazed in the huge fireplace.
Drace met Cearan in the great hall, having been evicted from his own room by Estelle and her daughter-in-law as they set to work on Ki’s hair. He had left her sitting in just her shift so he thought it would be awhile.
Cearan wore all black tonight. His long sleeved tunic was embroidered in a Celtic like design of blue and gold. He wore his long thick hair loose and there were several Werre women already eyeing him.
Drace wore a similar tunic in a dark blue-green, it’s embellishments in silver and the cuffs split. His breeches were black and he had polished his boots until they gleamed. His hair had grown since he had come to Kismera and it hung loose in rich mahogany waves to his shoulders blades.
The two men talked while musicians in the background tuned up instruments unfamiliar to Drace. People started to arrive and Cearan and Drace greeted them while conversation flowed around them.
Cearan was saying something about one of the horses when he stopped mid-sentence. Drace followed his gaze to the stairwell and all the breath left him.
Conversation stopped and people bowed—Ki stood at the foot of the stairs in a dress of sapphire blue. It was floor length with an underskirt of sky blue. The bodice was square-cut showing the upper slopes of her breasts, the tiger-eye stone Drace had given her nestled between them. The sleeves were long, covering her wrists and ending in a flare of lace. She wore her hair loose with the center pulled back in a gathering of long curls, held with a gold clasp.
Ki walked gracefully towards him amidst stares and greetings, a slight smile on her lips. “My Lord, you are very handsome tonight,” she greeted and curtsied in front of him, showing her respect for his position.
Drace cleared his throat. “Thank you, my Lady. You look…,” he paused for words but couldn’t find the one he really wanted. He settled for “…magnificent.”
He took her hand in his large one. “Just remind me not to dip you.”
Remembering some practice dances they had shared earlier in the week, she questioned, “Why not, my Lord?”
He stared pointedly at the top of her breasts. “Something may break free if I did.”
Ki’s free hand went to her bodice. “The gown is too much?”
“Too little,” Drace drawled, “but I love it.” He raised her captured hand and kissed her knuckles. “Come on, I want to show you off,” he said. “Cearan, I believe we will leave
you for awhile.” Drace raised an eyebrow in the other man’s direction but Cearan was already waving him away.
“Go now, I see a few ladies I need to greet,” Cearan said, with a preda- tory smile.
Tucking Ki’s hand in the crook of his arm, he escorted her further into the hall.
Within moments of the arrival of the Lord and Lady, music filled the hall. Drace led Ki to the center of the hall for the first dance, the music very similar to a Straus-like melody. He took Ki into his arms and stepped her out into a waltz. Smiling encouragement, a faint dimple showing on one lean cheek, he whispered for only her to hear, “Relax, my Lady and follow my lead. I’ve got you.” Ki nodded imperceptibly, eyes locked on his, when he spun her at arms length, in a whirl of skirts.
The night was filled with dancing and drinking, everyone happy to have one night of festivities, and leaving the worries of the future behind for a while. Drace even escorted Estelle from the kitchens for two dances, ignoring her half-hearted protests. Estelle made her way back, her face beaming, when the dances were over.
“I do believe you have made her evening,” Ki commented when they sat down to a midnight supper.
Drace leaned over to reply quietly in Ki’s ear, “Estelle has been wonderful and this idea would never have worked without all she’s done. To let her enjoy a part of it was the least I could do.” He took a sip of his wine.
The meal was a boisterous affair and an apparent success as wine and ale flowed freely at all the tables.
“Who is that fella over there?” Drace asked Cearan, who had taken the seat on his other side.
As a serving girl refilled his goblet, Cearan asked, “Which one?”
“The one glaring at me, table to our left,” Drace replied, refraining from looking directly at the man in question.
Cearan searched the table in question, raised his eyebrows in recognition, then turned his head to Drace and muttered something in Werre.
Drace knew enough of the language to raise his own brows at the curse, “Something wrong?”
“Only that the fellow has always thought he would be chosen by Ki as her mate and then be the top male here. I think you have dashed his plans,” Cearan informed.
Drace returned the man’s glare, “What is his name?”
“Siken.” “It means knife in Werren, and I know of only one man better with one.”
Drace glanced at his brother-in-law, “You’re kidding me.”
“If you mean am I jesting you, no, I am not. It might be best if you keep a close watch on him. He appears to be well into his cups this evening or he would not be looking so boldly this way.”
Drace nodded then turned his attention to something Ki was asking.
The rest of the meal was finished and some of the men and even a couple of the women warriors told tales. Some were humorous, others of victorious battles of the past, some were legends of their people.
All through the story telling, Siken continued to watch Drace at the head table. It was very late and several people had already retired for the evening. It was at this point that Siken, much imbibed and emboldened, decided to make his presence known to all; he stood at his table and shouted for silence.
Ki’s head jerked up sharply, tawny eyes narrowed in displeasure, “What is this, Siken? Sit down before you disgrace yourself.”
“That is a big son of a bitch,” Drace muttered to Cearan as both men tensed in readiness.
Siken had dark, almost black, hair and was two inches taller than Drace as well as being over twenty pounds heavier. “I think you have been the one to bring disgrace on us, my Lady!” the warrior shouted.
Ki went white with fury and started to rise but Drace stilled her with a hand on her wrist. He stood. “Who are you to speak that way to my wife?” Drace’s voice was low with suppressed anger.
“I am Siken Ayrondane and my family has close ties with the High Kingdom,” Siken answered and moved away from his seat. He came around to the center of the hall then moved in a straight line for the head table. “Your wife…,” Siken sneered, “…has thrown away a kingdom for you—a lowly human. If she has told you that you would rule the High Kingdom with her, she has lied to you!”
“What are you babbling about?” Drace snapped.
“When her uncle, the High King, dies, she would rule as queen, but only with a Werre mate. She has given it all up for a tumble from you,” Siken spat his disgust on the flagstones.
“Cearan, stop him this instant,” Ki demanded, her voice low, but torn with rage.
Drace held up his hand, “No! He is speaking to me. I will handle this.” He went around the table and stopped in front of Ki and Cearan to face the bigger man.
Drace crossed his arms across his broad chest, feet apart, “I think this discussion should continue in private.”
Siken came closer, a swagger in his step, stopping just out of Drace’s reach. Drace lowered his arms.
“Everyone has questioned the Lady’s infatuation. I am just bringing it to the open. Your wife…,” Siken stated, taking one step closer. Drace could smell the wine on the other man’s breath, “…has concubined herself to you and thrown her kingdom away.”
A chair crashed as Cearan came to his feet, a roar of anger coming from him.
Intense ire showed in the flush along Drace’s cheekbones, and he gritted his teeth in an effort to keep his temper in check. “Enough,” he growled, “Shut your mouth.”
“As you wish, Lord MacKinnon,” Siken acquiesced, moving as if to step away. In a sudden fluid movement, he reached for the dagger in the top of his boot and drew.
Drace jumped back against the table as Siken slashed at his belly. Shocked at the blatantly attack; he quickly composed himself. He balanced on the table’s edge, raised a foot, and delivered a strong kick, shoving back into the bigger man’s chest.
Drace was unaware of the sounds of other chairs shoving back or the light thud of Cearan clearing the table and landing beside him.
Siken recovered his balance as Drace regained his feet, and he moved in again to strike. Siken began to doubt the wisdom of his actions as Drace calmly turned to take the blade across his upper arm.
Ignoring the burn of the slash, Drace countered the attack by landing a punch on Siken’s jawbone. He’d put his weight behind the blow, which caused Siken to stagger backwards, eyes rolling upwards. He landed in the arms of two warriors who quickly disarmed him.
Drace straightened, “Take him to the cellars and lock him in a storeroom,” he ordered the two men who held a sagging Siken.
Ki came between Drace and Cearan, angry eyes going to Siken and then to Drace. Drace returned her look with one of his own, stopping any orders she would add to his at that moment.
Drace nodded to the two men who held Siken, prompting their departure. He brushed a hand over the front of his shirt and rested it on his abdomen, gathering his composure. He looked at the stunned faces around the hall and frowned darkly as he cleared his throat. “My apologies for this evening; I regret that it must end so unpleasantly. If you will excuse me?” he turned and headed for the stairs.
Ki move to follow him but Cearan stopped her. “I think you and I need to speak for a moment.”
She made a protest, but Cearan, with a firm hand on her elbow, escorted her from the hall towards the library.
A half hour later, Ki entered her chambers, standing just inside the doorway. Drace sat quietly on a stool, barely flinching at each stitch as Estelle closed the cut on his right arm. His shirt lay in a bloody ruin in his lap. Ki noticed then the death grip one of his hands had on his knee.
“Estelle, please leave us,” she said softly.
Estelle straightened for a moment, glancing at her mistress. “I will not. He has another cut yet to stitch.”
“Where?” Ki came forward to look, ignoring the blatant refusal.
Drace looked up at her, his eyes almost black with suppressed emotion. He moved a towel he had been holding against his stomach and a thin
line of blood oozed from the seven inch cut across his belly, just above his navel.
“Deeper and you might have been made a widow. I guess that was Siken’s intentions.” His voice was tight as Estelle pulled the last stitch and snipped the thread.
“Do you want to sit or lay down for this one, my Lord?” Estelle asked, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder above his wound.
“I’ll sit,” he quipped and felt a sympathetic squeeze from Estelle.
She pulled another low stool close to Drace and extracted a length of thread from her medical supplies. “My Lord, you will need to raise your arms. Lady Ki, please come help him.”
Ki went behind Drace and grasp his elbows as he raised his arms. When he leaned back against her front she could feel the tension in his body. She did not know if it was from the pain or his anger.
Ki peeked over Drace’s shoulder to look at his wound once more. Thankfully the gash was not as deep as she had feared, but the skin and a thin layer of fat gapped open, and a band of muscle lay exposed.
Drace gave a hiss through his teeth as Estelle cleaned the wound once more. When Estelle began to sew, Drace leaned his head a bit harder into Ki’s breasts. He sat absolutely still, but she felt him begin to tremble as Estelle worked. It was so quiet in the room, Ki heard Drace swallow hard at the end.
Finally, Estelle finished and Ki released Drace so he could relax his arms. She came around to stand in front of Drace as Estelle bandaged the wound.
He looked briefly at Ki then down but she had caught his eyes, almost silver gray now with pain, and his face was white with a green tinge.
“Estelle, please,” Ki asked again, a pleading note in her voice.
Estelle patted Drace on his uninjured arm. “You did well, my boy. Try to rest and do not do anything to pull those stitches. It will be worse the next time, if you do.”
Drace grunted at that and rose tiredly to his feet as Estelle gathered up her kit and left the room.
Dark Lord of Kismera: Knights of Kismera Page 17