“Are you ready for tonight, my friend?” he asked Cassius as they passed.
“No,” Cassius grunted, and he regularly looked ready for most anything, but now he looked ready for only one thing.
To kill something.
“Perhaps it won’t be as bad as you think,” Mars suggested.
Cassius’s gaze slid to Silence before it moved back to Mars, but he made no answer.
Mars smiled at him and strode to the front of the group, finding he had to slow his gait and adjust his long strides for his little one’s shorter legs.
This he did.
He made it to the Firenz bay he’d selected personally for her and was pleased to see she did not hide her delight in the fineness of the horse he presented to her.
Then she started to emit a surprised cry, something she quickly swallowed, when he lifted her into her side saddle.
That done, he swung up on Hephaestus, his own steed, as his men took their saddles.
Once mounted, the Trusted Ones assumed their positions: Lorenz at front, Chu at his left, Guard at Silence’s right, Basil and Kyril behind him.
And the procession began.
They’d barely cleared the curve around the fountain in front of the palace when he noted his bride fidgeting.
He looked her way to see her hand was again at the material at her chest.
“It covers you,” he told her, then decided to add, “And it’s becoming.”
“Mm,” she murmured, quickly dropping her hand.
He studied her fully and remarked, “You sit a horse well.”
“I’m not an out-of-doors woman,” she replied.
This he did not like because he was an out-of-doors man. And an inside-doors man. And an in-his-bedchambers-with-a-woman man.
And he’d wish his wife as rounded in her pursuits as he.
“Though I like to ride,” she carried on.
At least there was that.
“And garden,” she said.
And that, though he did not do this, it was good she did.
“And read in the garden.”
Also, there was that, and this was also something he did on occasion, just not in the garden.
“And I find it refreshing to take a long walk over the moors and by the creeks and streams, so I do this often,” she carried on.
Mars grinned.
“And if there are games, I never miss them,” she declared. “Even if they’re villages away.”
Mars chuckled.
She turned her head his way. “What’s funny?”
“It might take less time, wee monkey, to tell me what you don’t like to do out of doors.”
Her chin lifted a bit and she returned, “I don’t like to fish.”
“Neither do I.”
She faced forward, mumbling, “Well, I suppose that’s good.”
And her hand went back to fidget with her gown.
He clicked his teeth, tensed a thigh, and Hephaestus moved sideways, closer to her horse.
Her head twisted to him again.
“It is fine,” he said softly. “So fine, Silence, in a week, half the women of Fire City will be wearing that same gown.”
Her lips parted, and Mars was looking forward to having that all to himself and soon.
“I’m very bare,” she whispered.
She was not.
Though she was much more bare than she was usually.
“As you’ve noted, Firenz do not mind bare.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed this,” she mumbled.
“Whose idea was that gown?” he asked with curiosity, thinking it was probably her father pressing her to do something she was uncomfortable doing in order to catch the eye of her king.
“Mine,” she surprised him with this, saying it turning to face the road ahead. “I saw the fashions of your people, the colors of your standards, and I thought I should try to…fit in. So we went out and purchased some material today and Tril and some of your servants made up this gown from a design I sketched so I could…do that.”
She wouldn’t fit in.
She’d set the new standard.
“Silence,” he called, and she turned her head.
It was then, he noticed the look on her face.
And it was then, she again spoke. “They’ll all be looking upon me, Mars.”
So, on hearing that, he leaned, reaching out with both arms, and she stifled another surprised cry as he plucked her off her horse and planted her side-saddle on Hephaestus before him, her legs draped over his right thigh, the skirts of her gown trailing down the side of his steed.
And having her so close, he found she also smelled very good.
Freesia.
Guard moved immediately to take the reins of Silence’s horse.
“Faith,” she for some reason whispered, staring with wide eyes to the road and sitting stiff against him as he tightened his arm around her middle.
He also bowed his back to put his lips to her ear.
“You are protected,” he said there. “The Trusted you can see, but there are hundreds of my warriors at the arena, and there will be dozens around the podium, there to see to our safety.”
“I’m sure, however—”
“And you are beautiful, in that gown, in the acres of material you normally wear, it is simply what you are.”
Her frame tensed even further at that, as did her jaw.
But she had no reply.
However, he’d just paid her a compliment.
And a woman should acknowledge a man’s compliment.
Especially if it came from a king.
So he squeezed her middle and prompted, “Silence.”
“I do have nice hair,” she said to the road. “And I have interesting eyes. And lovely skin, though it’s much paler than your people. In other words, I know what I have, Mars. So do not lie. It is, I suppose, kind. But I know it’s false, so it won’t aid me in facing what I’m about to face.”
Mars had to take a moment to calm his mind after his bride called him a liar.
He took that moment.
Then he asked, “And how do I lie?”
She twisted her neck and looked up at him. “I know I’m not beautiful, so saying such doesn’t help.”
He stared down into her silver eyes and took more time to calm his mind before he informed her, “Women who seek compliments are not favored by me, Silence.”
“Women who…” Those eyes widened again before she carried on, but still didn’t finish. “You think I…?”
With that, she faced forward and said no more.
Mars gave her another squeeze and called, “Silence.”
“If you think that,” she whispered. “Then you meant what you said.”
“I always mean what I say.”
Her chin lifted again, this time in a jerk.
But he also noted it wobbled.
“Silence,” he growled.
“Thank you, my king, for your lovely words.” She spoke in a trembling voice. “I think I now will feel much more robust about facing the crowds at the arena.”
It was then, Mars understood their annoying exchange.
So it was then he straightened in the saddle, but pulled her closer and said over her head, “Once this is all done, you will need to talk clever and very long, my little monkey, if you wish your father to come back to my realm and sit at my table.”
He felt her jerk around to face him again. “What? Why?”
He looked down his nose at her.
“Our daughters will know their beauty. They will never be in doubt of it, Silence. Not a single, fucking breath of their lives.”
Those pink lips parted again, and she stared up at him in wonder.
Then she jerked back around and faced forward.
The sounds of the arena were getting closer.
Mars adjusted in his saddle and pulled her tighter to him, fitting her arse snug in his crotch.
His people were of the sand, the fire, the snake…
And of the horse.
They would expect their future queen to ride in, seated true in her own saddle beside their king.
But as they were right then was how his people would first see their future queen.
Held tight to her king, snug in his saddle, as the procession rode the edges of the field of the arena, before they dismounted and took their places on the podium.
And that was how they rode.
There was shouting.
Cheering.
The throwing of petals and coins.
And his future queen sat straight on his horse, held tight to him, her stature small, but her chin lifted, her shoulders squared, her baring regal.
She often waved at children.
And smiled at the elderly.
Mars had not put much thought into the prophecy and the need for his marriage to be arranged. He knew, if he didn’t desire her, due to this being a marriage of arrangement, and not one of the heart, he’d simply sire an heir on her and find what he desired elsewhere.
And if his people did not accept her, he’d set her away somewhere she’d be comfortable and carry on with his reign as he saw fit.
But by the time Mars dismounted and pulled Silence wearing that splendid gown off his horse, he suspected she had a kingdom close to eating out of her hand.
He knew this as this was happening with its king.
16
The Parade
Princess Elena
Nadirii Sisterhood Procession to the Coliseum, Fire City
FIRENZE
“Still not talking to me?”
I was not, thus I didn’t say anything.
“For the goddess’s sake, I took my first lover at fourteen,” Serena snapped. “Theodora should know the ways of things. It was good I did.”
“Let us not do this now,” I muttered. “There’s much to concentrate on and none of it is you being thoughtless…again.”
“You’re right. There is,” Serena agreed. “Much to concentrate on. For instance, how Cassius is going to take one look at you, know you’re nothing like his very beloved, very Airenzian, very obedient, very womanly, very dead wife, want not one thing to do with you and then decide for the rest of his days to close his eyes and picture her while thrusting inside you.”
I decided not to reply.
Regrettably, Serena was feeling chatty.
“Though it probably isn’t such a bad thing, as you’ll be closing your eyes, picturing True.”
I again remained silent as we rode behind our mother and her lieutenants through the deserted streets of Fire City (indeed, the only beings that seemed to be about were the ones who opened the fiery gates to allow us entry fifteen minutes before).
We were on our trajectory toward the enormous, lit arena we could already see and definitely hear.
“I wonder what True’s intended looks like,” Serena pondered, unfortunately verbally. “She’s Firenz. Their striking beauties are renown throughout all the realms. So I’m certain she’s a stunner.”
I drew breath into my nose and remembered the words Melisse often said to me about high roads and low roads and how you slept at the end of the day once you laid your head on your pillow, depending on which road you chose.
“And the Firenz are known to be more open sexually than even Nadirii. This means True’s probably already had her.”
At that, I started when a glimmer of coral shot between Julia and Agnes, who were riding in a line before us that included Melisse and Lucinda on the outsides.
It slammed into Serena’s face, precisely her mouth, and my eyes flew to the front of the procession where my mother rode.
She was twisted in her saddle, her arm still raised to cast.
Her face was lethal.
Serena made a grunt.
Well then.
It appeared Mum wasn’t feeling chit-chat down the line.
My gaze went to Melisse, who, along with all Mother’s lieutenants, was turned in her saddle to see the results of her queen’s craft.
Melisse caught my gaze, tipped her head to the side and the tips of her lips up, and then she returned to face forward.
Serena emitted another grunt.
“You must call orders, so I assume she’ll end your silence eventually,” I assured her good-naturedly, glancing sideways to see my sister looked murderous.
But she was silent.
That was all I needed in order to gather my magic within me and focus.
We proceeded, winding through the streets of a city that seemed to be made up of mostly squat buildings fashioned of rust-colored stone or the same colored clay. Night had fallen so the colors of awnings, the flowers in a profusion of pots, the paint on doors, the mosaics in archways, the rugs in courtyards were silvered and mostly colorless.
But I suspected it was quite something in the light.
Now, however, the din coming from the arena was growing ever louder and I had to quell my desire to look behind me, where Hera and Jasmine rode side by side with Serena’s lieutenants in order to catch my friends’ eyes and be fortified.
Theodora was riding at the rear with the trainees who would not be in parade. She would watch with them as we executed our exercises.
I told myself she would be fine in this land of an enemy who was not right then an enemy, but as an ally of Airen, they had been in the past, and it was understood they always would be.
I would also be fine.
My mother would be fine.
Melisse, Hera, Jasmine, Agnes, Lucinda, Julia and even Serena would be fine.
All my sisters would be fine.
We would get through this.
I would get through the reception after the parade.
And then I would face tomorrow…
Tomorrow.
As we drew ever closer to the arena, I noted that it was lit high up in the air by a long cauldron of fire that ran the length of the arched stands. This was held up by tall, tarred poles like those that made up the wall of the city. And this fire was screened at the back and top with polished steel, which directed the light of the fire down into the arena and on the field.
Clever, that, and a mammoth effort.
Though Firenz were known to enjoy a vast amount of spectator amusements. So many, I assumed, they wouldn’t want it restricted to daylight hours.
We started to meet intermittent vats of fire set on the sides of the road that aided the moon in lighting our way perhaps half a kilometer away from the coliseum.
And about a quarter of one, we were met with two Firenz guards wearing bladed leather kilts, crossed belts at their bare chests, double swords at their backs.
This was not alarming because these guards were expected. They were to meet us, guide us to the arena and then open the gates for us to enter when it was time.
And thus, they twirled their horses when they met us on but a dip of the chin to Mother and guided the way.
The clamor was almost ear-splitting as we rode into a lighted tunnel that ran under the stands, and I wondered what was happening on the field to cause that amount of cheering, when the guards stopped at some gates.
Therefore, our line stopped.
It was only then I spoke to my sister, and I did it loud enough for only her to hear through the clapping, shouting and what sounded like pounding of feet.
“She’s ill and she’s using her magic to silence you, which will tire her. We will soon be parted, me from you, me from her. I would hope, my sister of the blood, that in future, or what she has left of hers, with me gone, that you take far better care of her than this.”
I received a grunt in return.
An angry one.
But I didn’t look at her and said no more.
I kept my gaze glued on my mother’s back.
After a time, there seemed to be a quieting all around us.
Whatever they were viewing was over.
I watched my mother’s back get straighter.
Therefore, I shifted
my hold on my reins slightly and I felt my blue roan, Diana, bunch her back flanks.
Then the Firenz guards shuffled to the side, the gates before us flew open, my mother shouted her high-pitched Nadirii cry, and she burst forward, as did the rest of us.
But once in the stadium, Serena and I rounded our mounts to the sides, and the phalanx of sisters rode past us in a blur of horseflesh, streaming cloaks of coral or purple and flowing long hair of all colors.
And from the sidelines I watched as they raced—five abreast, one hundred precise rows—on the field around the edges of the stands, the horses so close, the riders’ legs looked to be touching.
And the only sound I heard as the crowd was stunned silent at this sight (and perhaps sound) was the wail of the Nadirii cry rising into the night shouted by five hundred and nine Nadirii sisters.
With Mother at the lead, they’d rounded the entire stadium and past where Serena and I were waiting to go around one side of the oval of the coliseum again.
But at the front, where I could see a podium with no stands behind it, just a red, gold, and black striped awning over it and the roof of a large crimson tent beyond that (though I could see no one who was on that podium through the riders), the Sisterhood changed routes and cut their mounts down the middle of the field.
But when they arrived at the other side, they broke off, a row of five with coral cloaks going one way, a row of five with purple going the other.
They raced around the edges opposite each other, and I felt my lips curl up when they met at the other end, looking like they were going to crash into each other.
But they rode between each line so near, the snap of the material of cloaks striking against one another cracked through the air and a collective gasp went through the crowd.
Again at the middle of the stands opposite the podium, the riders cut down the middle, breaking again in half in front of the podium, streaming down the edge of the stands, meeting again on the middle in the other side, and cutting in again.
This time to take formation.
Intricately.
And perfectly.
When the five hundred horses and riders in five rows, one hundred across, faced the nine women spread at the front—Mother, her lieutenants, Serena’s and mine—who had their backs to the podium, the Sisterhood facing it, the horses all stood in pristine lines, at sides, and front to back.
The Beginning of Everything Page 16