by Wendy Wang
“The water’s frigid,” Neala snapped. She thrust her hand out. “Give it to me.”
“No,” Cai said. “We need these. I’m not going to let you compromise our communication.”
Neala scowled. “Gordon, I need your com.”
Gordon shifted on the rock, his expression helpless. Instead, he kept talking. “Don’t much like the cold water.”
“Gordon.” Neala furrowed her brow, frustrated.
“Sorry, Highness, but I report to him.”
Neala rolled her eyes and cursed under her breath. “Fine. Let’s just hope we don’t have to use them.”
******
It took most of the afternoon to reach their destination. Their brief stop in the little town of D’Umara yielded water from a community well, but no food.
By the time they reached the edge of city, the sun hung low in the sky. Neala’s stomach growled. She had walked ahead of Cai most of the way, but the skin between her toes throbbed, slowing her down, and she fell behind them.
“You doing all right back there, Highness?” Gordon fell into step with her.
“These shoes are absolutely miserable for walking,” she said. “And we all should’ve brought water with us, not relied on finding it.”
“For a trip to the desert, water’s the only thing I brought.” Gordon pulled a silver flask from his pocket and pushed it towards her. She grabbed it, popped the cap off and stuck it to her parched lips. The cool liquid flowed through her veil, dribbling down her chin. When she finished, she handed the flask to Cai. He downed several sips and gave it back to Gordon. Gordon just shook his head at the two of them took a sip, recapped the flask and stuck it back in his pocket.
“So where is this contact, sir?” Gordon asked.
“We’re to meet him in the monastery garden when the chimes start at six.” Cai glanced around.
“What time is it now?” Neala asked.
Cai pulled a timepiece from his pocket. “Nearly six. Come on, we should go.” The hair on the back of her neck stood up when Cai pulled his baton from underneath his robe.
“What is it?” Neala asked. Gordon flanked her other side, holding his baton tightly in his hand.
“Just a precaution, that’s all. No need to worry,” Cai said.
The three of them ducked into an alleyway. With Cai in the lead, he pulled his hood up and Gordon did the same. Down the street, the bells at the monastery began to chime, counting off the hours. By the fifth chime, they entered the side gate of the monastery grounds. Cai led them to a rose garden with several benches for admiring the fist-sized roses. Cai took a seat but kept glancing around for any sign of trouble. Neala sat next to him, letting her hand rest on the hilt of her dagger. Gordon continued to stand behind them, keeping watch. When the echo of the last chime died, they heard a door open and all got to their feet. A man in a white robe approached them. He had beautiful, caramel-colored skin and dark, curly hair. He smiled brightly and raised his palms to show he had no weapon.
“Hello, sir,” he said. “It is good to see you again.”
“And you, Farrasce,” Cai said, stretching out his hand.
In the distance, Neala heard chanting and singing coming from inside the monastery. The beautiful harmonies filled the air, making the garden feel like the safest place in the realms.
Her stomach growled loudly and Cai glanced at her with a half-grin. “Something you’re trying to tell me, Highness?”
“Come,” Farrasce said. “I have a safe place for you to stay tonight and you will dine with me and my family.”
“We don’t want to trouble you,” Neala said.
“It is no trouble, Your Highness,” Farrasce said. “It would be our honor.”
“All right,” Neala smiled.
“Wonderful. If you all could just wait here for a few moments, I will be back soon to lead you out.” Farrasce put his hands together and bowed his head before turning and walking back towards the building.
Neala sat on the bench again and Cai sat next to her, his thigh touching hers.
“Highness, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” Cai said. He looked her straight in the face, acting as if there was no barrier between them. He placed his hand on top of hers. “I probably should’ve briefed you before now and for that I’m sorry.”
“What is it?” Neala asked, sounding alarmed.
“When we go out onto the street,” Cai said. He glanced down at their hands tracing his thumb along the outline of hers. She didn’t like the way he hesitated. “It all stems back to this Book of Uzzoor.”
“All right,” Neala laughed, but there was no humor in it.
“Evidently, this book is very specific in the way women should act. How they dress, how they speak, how they think, work, even how they worship.”
“Stop dragging your feet, Cai, and just tell me.”
Cai grimaced. “When we go out on the street, you must walk behind me.”
“Behind you? Why?”
Cai squeezed her hand, his face full of sincerity. “Here, women are not quite as valued as they are in Tamarik.”
Neala laughed and Cai’s expression changed to confusion. “You think women are valued more in Tamarik?”
“I take it you don’t.”
“Not particularly. If we were really valued, we could marry for love—not for comfort or security or alliances. I’m lucky. I have my own property and money. If I never marry, I’ll be fine. But there are thousands of women in Tamarik who can’t say the same.”
“She’s right there,” Gordon chimed in. He rocked on his feet, his eyes watchful of the monastery’s garden. Cai’s eyes cut towards him, but Gordon didn’t seem to notice.
“I had no idea you felt that way,” Cai said quietly. “So if given the opportunity, you would marry for love?”
“Wouldn’t you?” she said.
The door to the monastery opened again and Farrasce emerged. He clapped his hands together and smiled as he drew closer.
“Well, I have talked to my wife and she has prepared a feast in your honor, Highness.” Farrasce grinned, showing his beautiful white teeth.
“Thank you so much, Farrasce.” Neala stood, pressed her hands together as if she were going to say a prayer and bowed her head. “We all appreciate the risk you’ve taken for us.”
“Many here have abandoned the old religion found in the Book of Kaels, but we have not, nor have we turned our back on our Queen,” Farrasce said.
“I’ll be sure to tell my mother of your bravery,” Neala said. “Your name will go into the book as all history does.”
Farrasce’s face reddened and his smile became wider. “Thank you.”
A few minutes later, the three men and Neala set off for Farrasce’s home. She stayed behind them as they walked, keeping the requisite distance so as not to draw any attention to them. The three men talked animatedly and she glanced around at the streets, noticing similar patterns of men walking in twos and threes, with a woman or two trailing several feet behind them. How had it gotten to this point? How had men and women grown so far apart? Why didn’t they walk side-by-side instead of one in front of the other? It made no sense to her. Sometimes she dreamed of influencing her mother into changing laws and old beliefs. Her mother may have been Queen, may have been the most powerful Kael in all the realms, but sometimes even her mother became caught up in the roles defined for her by an ancient book. Maybe it would’ve been better if they defined their own roles.
Farrasce led them to a beautiful, scrolled iron gate. Its hinges squealed as he opened them into a lush courtyard. The smell of grilled meat and spices filled the air, causing Neala’s mouth to water and her stomach to gurgle with anticipation. Farrasce turned to her and smiled. “Your Highness, my home is your home. You are free to remove your veil here.”
Neala glanced at Cai, and he shrugged and gave her a quick nod. She slid the hood off of the back of her head and peeled the veil from over her face, relishing the cool, early evening
air. The thick smell of jasmine competed with the spicy scent of the food. She did not realize how warm her face was beneath the veil, or how much it restricted her sense of smell. How dreadful it must be to wear this all the time.
Farrasce’s wife appeared at the door. Her dark, beautiful hair cascaded in thick curls over her shoulders and back. Like Farrasce, she had caramel-colored skin and deep brown, almond-shaped eyes with lashes so long Neala wondered if they were real. She wore the traditional robes of pale blue, only they couldn’t quite contain her hourglass figure. Neala envied the woman’s curves, wishing her body had more shape.
“Your Highness, this is my wife, Alessé,” Farrasce said.
“Welcome, welcome…” Farrasce’s wife said. She folded her hands together and bowed her head as Neala approached. “Your Highness, it is such an honor to have you. Our home is your home.”
Neala pressed her hands together and returned his wife’s bow. “The honor is mine.”
“Please, come in. I hope you have a brought your appetites,” Alessé said.
“I don’t know about the men but I know I have,” Neala said, making Alessé laugh.
“I believe you and I will get along just fine,” his wife said. Neala smiled and nodded, immediately liking her new acquaintance.
******
After a sumptuous meal of braised lamb and rice, Alessé excused herself and a servant girl with long, dark hair cleared the dishes.
The men talked among themselves as if she wasn’t there and she listened as Farrasce told them that Peter already knew they were in Nydia. It would only be a matter of time before he ferreted them out. It made finding out more about his operation and plans even more important to Neala. A few minutes later, Alessé returned with their baby daughter perched on her hip.
“I thought I would bring Azania down to meet our guests and to say good night to her daddy.” Alessé handed the baby to Farrasce and he kissed and tickled his daughter until she broke into fits of giggles.
“There is cake and coffee, if anyone is interested,” Alessé said. Cai shook his head politely but Gordon raised his hand.
“If it’s half as delicious as this dinner has been, then I will have died and gone to live with the gods,” Gordon said, his cheeks ruddy from the wine.
“Here, let me help you.” Neala rose to her feet.
“Highness, that is very kind of you, but completely unnecessary,” Alessé said.
“Don’t be silly. I could use a little time on my feet,” Neala said.
Alessé smiled and nodded. “Follow me, then.”
Neala trailed behind Alessé through a series of corridors until they came to a brightly lit kitchen. In the center was a large, wooden table where Neala imagined Farrasce and Alessé and their daughter ate breakfast together. Alessé put on the kettle to boil and took several small plates from the glass-front cabinet. In the center of the table was a pedestal made of fine china where a large cake, dripping with a fragrant orange icing, waited to be cut. Alessé dissected the cake with the precision of a surgeon, placing pieces on china matching the pedestal. Once the kettle’s whistle began to blow, Alessé poured the boiling water into a tall, silver coffee press. It reminded Neala of the one in the breakfast room at home. She had never cared much for coffee, finding it too bitter, even when laced heavily with cream and sugar.
“So, Your Highness, if I may be so bold as to ask, what is your role with these men?” Alessé arranged the delicate plates of cake on a silver tray with intricately woven handles.
“I’m here mainly by extortion,” Neala chuckled.
“I beg pardon—” Alessé said, wearing a bemused smile on her face.
“I convinced the chief commander and my mother that I was necessary because I could get them home,” Neala said.
“I see. But I take it you have your own agenda.” Alessé’s unwavering, dark eyes landed on Neala’s. All the air in the room became heavy and overly hot. A trickle of sweat traced its way along Neala spine and she tucked her hair behind her ear.
“No, of course not.” Neala jutted her chin out.
“You know, Farrasce told me what happened to you. I think if it were me who had been taken, I would want some sort of…revenge.” A lot of people tip-toed around Neala, showing her only a polite facade, but Alessé held nothing back and Neala liked that about her.
“You would?”
“Oh, yes. I believe I would hunt down the man who did this to me.”
“And what would you do if you found him?” Neala asked.
“I would make him tell me everything he did to me and then I would kill him.” Something in Alessé’s eyes hinted there was more to her words than just conjecture. Alessé took a deep breath and smiled, chasing away the dark intensity that shadowed her face. “Now I believe we should get this downstairs.”
“Yes—” Neala laughed nervously. “Would you like me to carry that for you?”
“That would be most helpful, Your Highness. I’ll take the coffee and if you’ll carry the cake, that would be perfect.”
Alessé stacked saucers and cups on a smaller tray and placed the steaming hot coffee press in the center. The last thing she included was a sugar dish and creamer. Alessé counted out forks and napkins and placed them on Neala’s tray.
A few minutes later, they descended the steps and found the men congregating in another room. Alessé placed her tray on the squat, round table in the center of the room and directed Neala to place her tray there as well. Farrasce gathered floor pillows and placed them close so anyone who wanted coffee or cake could partake in comfort. Neala sat next to Cai and they shared a floor pillow, both sitting cross-legged. The heat from his knee touching her thigh filled her whole body with warmth. He glanced at her sideways and smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkling.
After a little more pleasant conversation, Alessé took her sleeping daughter from her father’s arms. “It’s getting late,” she said. “Farrasce will show you to your sleeping quarters.”
They all stood up and thanked Alessé for dinner.
“I’m afraid the accommodations are rather humble, Your Highness,” Farrasce said, putting his hands together.
“Farrasce, any accommodation you have is most appreciated.” Neala smiled.
“Indeed, we’re very appreciative,” Cai said.
“It is our honor to serve the Queen,” Farrasce said. He turned and led them up the staircase, passing the floor where the kitchen had been. They passed another floor where Neala heard Alessé singing to the baby. They continued until they came to a door which Farrasce unlocked with the key. Inside this attic were four bunks. “As you can see, there are blankets and pillows on each bunk. All of them are clean,” Farrasce said.
“They’re perfect, Farrasce. It will just be wonderful to lie down.” Neala gave him a reassuring smile.
“I will need to lock you in—” Farrasce jingled the keys.
“Of course,” Cai said. “Our first priority is your family’s safety.”
“Thank you, and I bid you good night.” Farrasce bowed his head and disappeared the way he came, closing the door behind him. The lock clicked into place.
“I call top bunk.” In two steps, Gordon was up the ladder on the end of the bunk, launching himself onto the top mattress. He grunted as he fluffed the pillow and slung it behind his head.
“Highness, where would you like to sleep?” Cai asked.
“I don’t sleep very much so I should probably take one of the bottom bunks.” Neala sat on the edge of the mattress of the empty bunk, hoping that Cai wouldn’t also choose a top bunk. If he did, she’d just have to pull a mattress onto the floor. Neala untied her sandals and placed them neatly near the end of her bed. The skin between her poor toes was raw from the jute.
“Gordon, you have anything else tucked away in that jacket of yours?” she asked, massaging her toes.
“What d’you need, Highness?” Gordon said.
“My feet are torn up from those ridiculous sandals
,” she said. Gordon swung his long legs over the side of the bunk and slid down to the floor.
“Let me take a look.” Gordon sat on her bunk beside her. “May I?”
“Of course.” Neala leaned back, propping herself up with her hands and stretched one of her legs onto Gordon’s lap. He wrapped his long, thin fingers around her foot.
“You’re Iberebethan?” she asked.
Gordon smiled, his dark eyes becoming half-moons. “I’m Tamarikian, born and bred, but I have a quite an affinity for earth as well as fire and metal.”
“Good combination.” Neala smiled.
“Yes,” Gordon said. He blew his breath out through his nose and closed his eyes. Gordon brushed his thumbs over the pads of her toes and heat traveled from her heel to the top of her foot as he healed her blistered and raw skin. When the heat dissipated, he lifted his hands. “How’s that feel?”
Neala wiggled her toes. No pain. “Wonderful. Thank you.”
“All right, then, let me see the other one.”
Neala slung her other foot into his lap and Gordon wrapped his hands around her toes. Within a few minutes, all the pain disappeared.
“There you go,” Gordon said. “You know, I can fix those sandals of yours so they won’t do this again.”
“That would be fantastic, Gordon.”
“Well, we don’t want that soft skin of yours all red and raw again, do we?”
“No, we don’t,” Neala said.
“That’s enough, Gubler,” Cai said, standing over them. “Stop fawning over her.”
Gordon winked at her and patted her on the knee. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was jealous.” Neala chuckled and shook her head. “I’ll fix them in the morning for you, Highness.”
“Thank you, Gordon,” she said.
“All right. Let’s get to sleep. We’ve got a long day tomorrow,” Cai said, sounding tired and cross. Gordon rose to his feet and climbed onto the top bunk again. He lay on his back with his feet dangling over the end of the bed.
Neala curled up on her side beneath the thin, cotton blanket and folded her arm beneath her head. Cai turned off the light and she closed her eyes, listening to the others shift in their bunks. After a few minutes, she heard their breathing slow and one of them, she suspected Gordon, began to snore softly. When she knew they were both sound asleep, she opened her eyes again and let them adjust to the edges of the room. Moonlight filtered in through a long narrow window near the top of the eaves, allowing just enough light to make out the shape of Cai. He slept only four feet away from her on the bottom bunk. His chest rose slowly and evenly and she envied him for falling asleep with such ease. Her stomach fluttered as she rose to her feet and tip-toed across the floor. She stood over him for several minutes before making up her mind. Neala lay down next to him, curling her back against his chest.