Ah. So, you want to have wild monkey sex and she’s half passed out whenever you do the nasty, is that it?
You say the most curious things. But yes, I believe you’ve uncovered the reason for my melancholy.
Have you tried making love when it’s not the middle of the night? If you’re just doing it to soothe her, your needs aren’t being met. Seduce her, plan a romantic night, show her what you need. You’ve been with other women, Hayden. She’s never experienced another man. It’s up to you to teach her how to pleasure you. Right?
Hayden was relieved Taryn couldn’t see his face. Heat flamed up his neck, covering his cheeks with his embarrassment.
Since when did you become an expert on relations between men and women?
A slight giggle sounded in his mind. Since Rhoane and I arrived at the Narthvier.
Once again Hayden blushed furiously, this time for his cousin. A hazy form materialized near the balcony to his right and Taryn smiled at him. His mouth gaped, not just at her ability to project an image of herself, but at what she was wearing. Gone was her usual get-up of leather trousers and tunic. Instead she wore a flowing gossamer skirt and tight, midriff-baring top that did little to hide her womanly assets.
“You like?” she teased.
“Um, wow.”
“The Eleri are more comfortable with me this way. When I dress like an Aelan, they take it as a sign I’m differentiating myself from them. They’re a very touchy race.”
“How are you doing this?”
Her shoulders raised and lowered in a shrug. “I have no idea. I was thinking how much I’d like to see you, and there you were.” The image dissolved and her thought brushed his mind. Well, that sucks. I’ll have to work out how to do it again. I have to go, but Hayden, go see Adesh. Perhaps he can help with Sabina’s nightmares. And make love to her. Properly.
Yes, Your Highness.
Shut up.
I love you.
Love you more.
The connection ended and he nodded to himself. She was right. He had to reclaim his relationship with Sabina. They both had let the horrors of the Stones invade every waking thought. Herbret was dead. Kaldaar remained banished, and the phantom hadn’t been seen since. Sabina would always be the seventeenth vessel, but she was no longer unbroken. She couldn’t bear the offspring of Kaldaar’s minions. At least he hoped so.
They needed something to distract them. Perhaps Adesh could help with that, as well.
He used the hidden walkways and corridors to return to his apartment. Since they’d only recently received her mother’s blessing to court her, Sabina didn’t want anyone to know he shared her bed. She feared if the empress learned of her debauchery, she’d alert Queen Prateeni and Sabina would be married off to a minor noble in the Summerlands. Hayden had his doubts that would happen, but kept his opinion to himself.
As inconspicuously as possible, he emerged from the hidden passageway into the hallway leading to his apartment. A lone figure walked toward him, and Hayden nodded his greeting. Seeing the man’s face, he stopped and called after him.
“Tarro, a moment if you will.” The tailor’s wary glance took in Hayden’s disheveled state. “I’m Lord Valen, Taryn’s cousin.” He didn’t know why he was explaining himself to the empress’ servant.
“Yes, I know. We met at Paderau, although not officially.”
“Right. You made the footballs for Taryn. I was, um, I was wondering if you could find me some peasant clothing. Nothing flashy, just something I can wear in the city and not be noticed.” He was saying too much, but seeing the man had sparked an idea and he was anxious to see it through.
“I’m sure I have something. When do you need them?”
“As soon as possible?”
“I can have them delivered in two bells. Will that work for you, my lord?”
“Yes, thank you.” Hayden pressed his pockets, looking for a coin, but had nothing on him. “If you’ll come to my rooms, I can pay for your services.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Shorter than Hayden by a head, Tarro’s pretty face smiled up at him. There was a spark of mischief in the tailor’s eyes. “How is the princess?”
“She’s well. I know she’s rather fond of you. Shall I tell her you asked after her?”
The grin broadened, showing small, perfectly white teeth. Hayden idly wondered how he achieved such brightness. “I would like that, thank you. Is there anything else?”
Hayden pulled his gaze from the stunning smile and shook his head. “Not at the moment. If I require anything else, may I call on you?”
“Of course. Anything to help the princess or her friends.”
Encouraged by his conversation with Tarro, Hayden burst into his rooms, giving poor Oliver a fright that certainly should have stopped his heart. With a rushed apology thrown over his shoulder, Hayden strode to his dressing room where he called out for the valet to join him.
“I need to look average,” he said. “Like a peasant, but not too poor.”
Oliver’s scolding look reminded Hayden of when he was a lad and had done something improper. “What is my lord planning? Nothing dangerous, I would hope.”
“Not to worry. I’m just going to stroll around the docks for a bit, and then see a friend about a tonic.”
Two bells later, Hayden slipped through the palace gates and headed toward the already bustling docks. The early hour meant nothing to the ships with cargo to load or unload. The sooner the job was done, the sooner they could be out to sea. Time was money to the ship merchants.
A slight figure moved in step beside Hayden, and he grinned at the thief. “You’re up early, Ebus. What? Since Taryn’s left, you have no one to spy upon?”
A snicker was his answer. “The princess is not the only person of interest in Talaith. Therefore I am always of use.”
“And why are you not out earning your keep?”
Ebus looked up at him, a dangerous smile pulling his lips tight. “I am.”
Taken aback, Hayden slowed his pace. “You were sent to spy on me? By whom?”
The little man put out a cautioning hand. “It isn’t like that. The princess asked that I keep you safe while she’s away.” A dark brow arched over his even darker eye. “She’s quite fond of you, you know.”
“Yes,” Hayden said, choosing his words carefully, “as I am fond of her. As a cousin and friend.”
“Don’t get your smallclothes twisted. I was just saying she thinks highly of you. I’ve only been charged with keeping watch on three people. You, among them.”
Hayden knew better than to ask about the other two. Ebus wouldn’t say their names even under torture, he was certain. Instead, he kept walking toward the marketplace. If Ebus wanted to tag along, he wouldn’t stop him.
“I’m curious about the garments, my lord.” Ebus put special emphasis on the last two words.
“I don’t want to draw attention to myself. You are a master of blending in—you can be of use.” Hayden explained his plan to wander around the docks, ostensibly looking for work on one of the Summerlands ships, but his true purpose was to ferret out information about the heavy taxes imposed on Summerlands goods.
As far as he could tell, either no one on the Privy Council was aware of the increased taxes, or they weren’t willing to cross their empress to investigate. If Lliandra wanted to fill Talaith’s coffers with Summerlands gold, they were more than happy to turn a blind eye.
Hayden couldn’t dislodge the feeling there was more behind the taxes. Much more, but he had yet to understand what. By imposing illegal taxes on Danuri and Summerlands goods, she was weakening their economies, which could mean she was hoping to bring them under Talaithian control. Either by force or without.
“Stop walking like a noble. Tuck your chin, slouch into your clothing. You must reflect your status in life, and at the moment it is not one of comfort and pampering.” Ebus cut into his thoughts and Hayden did as told. He scuffed his worn boots along the cobblestone street, wi
ncing when he caught his toe on a raised brick.
“Do you sense the Shadow Assassin?” Hayden whispered as they passed from an alley to the main port.
“No. Not since that day Taryn saw him. Let’s see what they’re unloading.” Ebus motioned to the far end of the dock where several men carried boxes down a gangplank to a waiting wagon.
Hayden scanned the ship, looking for signs to distinguish where it had come from. Several symbols graced the bow of the ship, but no words he could decipher.
“Ho, ho!” Ebus called out. “My friend and I are looking for a day’s work.” He spoke proper Elennish, but with a thick accent. Ullan, perhaps.
One of the men gave the two of them a casual glance, taking in their attire and countenance. “We ain’t got no need fer more men. Try the ship two down. Jus’ came in from Menurra. I hear they had problems at sea. Some men didn’t make it.” He took his hat off and bowed his head.
Ebus said nothing to the man, but Hayden whispered, “May Julieta find peace for them.” The man nodded and returned to his work.
The ship he’d indicated was larger and bore the crest of Sabina’s family next to the name, Flightrider. It was an odd name for a ship, but Hayden had little time to muse upon a more appropriate name. Ebus contracted them to work four bells unloading merchandise to a warehouse two streets north.
Within a quarter bell, Hayden hated the little man. His legs ached from walking up and down the gangplank and then to the warehouse. His arms, used to nothing more than sword work and holding his love, shook from the effort of carrying heavy boxes filled with fruits, spices, and colorful fabrics from Menurra, the capital city of the Summerlands. By the end of the second bell, he loved Ebus more than he thought possible.
As the day wore on, the tongues of the sailors loosened. The deaths at sea hadn’t been natural and many suspected Black workings. None of the men knew or cared about illegal taxes, but with the supernatural, they were obsessed. Many swore it was the ghost of Julieta punishing the sailors for crimes they committed against women. Others claimed it was Kaldaar himself, risen from the depths of the sea to torment Julieta’s believers. Still more believed it was the sea king looking for Summerlands men to father his many daughters’ offspring.
Of all the claims, the only one to make sense was an illness had spread among the men and women on board. Those too weak to fight off the disease perished while the stronger of the crew were inconvenienced a few days, nothing more.
“Bunch of numpties, if ye ask me,” a pretty girl not much older than Hayden said. “Superstition does nothing for morale, but they can’t see past their noses to the truth.”
“So, you don’t believe in the wrath of gods, I take it?”
“Bah!” She spat on the ground and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Ferran’s fires, what good would that do? The gods don’t put food in my belly. They don’t offer me work or pay me a decent wage. I’ve done fine without their meddling so far. I don’t see why I should change anything now.” A slight lilt to her voice intrigued Hayden. It reminded him of the Eleri and his thoughts wandered to Taryn.
The girl and his cousin were similar in many ways, but the sailor far coarser. “What about the Eirielle? What do you make of the rumors she’s returned?”
“The savior? Ha! What kind of fool do ye take me for? If someone’s got the Light and Dark roiling around inside, they have my sympathy, that’s what I think of it. I ain’t got no need for ShantiMari, gods, or some spoiled princess.” Her green eyes blazed with indignation. “Don’t tell me ye believe all those fairy tales. What? Do ye have a sappy poet’s heart beneath those shabby clothes?”
“Yeah, right. What good’s riddles and words when you’re hungry, right?”
She glanced over her shoulder and then back to Hayden. “The quartermaster’s paying a little too much attention to us.” She shoved her box at him, resting it precariously atop the one he struggled to carry. “Fuck ye? As if ye’d know how!” She stormed away, leaving Hayden to stare, baffled, at her retreating form.
His glance drifted up to meet the quartermaster’s and the gruff man grinned at him before he followed the girl toward the docks. Hayden turned with a sigh and continued to the warehouse to deposit his goods. The next two bells passed in relative misery. A few more workers spoke to him, but he garnered nothing of value from their conversations.
At the end of their shift, Ebus collected their wages, handing Hayden the paltry sum. “Is this all? We worked our asses off.” His muscles rebelled at every movement, every flinch and shudder.
“You’re too pampered. Perhaps you should train with the princess more.” Ebus spoke barely above a whisper and Hayden had to lean down to hear. Even that made his back spasm.
“I think you’re right.”
Adesh welcomed them into his tent, saying nothing about Hayden’s unusual attire. He fussed with jars and scales for a long time before handing Hayden several pouches of teas to help with Sabina’s nightmares, the entire time telling him what herbs to use when, and how to counteract the episodes with conscious dreaming. Hayden nodded and smiled, not retaining a single thing the man said. Even his brain was exhausted.
As they were leaving the spice merchant’s tent, a lithe figure bumped into Hayden, excusing herself before pressing a note into his palm. “Yer being followed.” He caught the briefest peek into her startling green eyes before she was swallowed up in the crowd.
Chapter Twelve
The note held only an address. Nothing more. No signature, no hint as to what she wanted to tell him. Ebus elbowed him and nodded toward two gruff-looking men ambling their way toward the pair. Hayden ducked inside the spice merchant’s tent and Ebus followed.
Adesh looked up in surprise since they’d left him only moments before. “Have you forgotten something, my lord?”
“Is there a back way out of here?” A note of urgency spiked his words and he hoped Adesh wouldn’t ask questions.
The man said nothing, just led them through several tents before holding open the flap to the last one. “Through here, you will be near the cobbler’s tents. Keep low and you will not be seen.”
Hayden held the man’s arm in his hands. “Thank you, Adesh. For everything.”
His exhaustion turned to agitated frustration as they dodged shoppers. Late afternoon crowds rushed to get their errands completed before going home for the night. Twice Hayden spotted men who looked more at home on a battlefield than in the market square and ducked behind the nearest building. His heart rammed in his chest each time he crossed the street, certain at every corner he would encounter a brigand.
At last they reached the street scrawled on the slip of paper. Ebus gave a quick knock and the door opened immediately. An attractive woman, twice Hayden’s age at least, answered and ushered them into a cramped sitting room. The girl lay sprawled on a couch, her legs dangling off the side, a book held to her face. The image jarred Hayden.
“What? Ye took me for a numpty, eh? Thought a dock worker couldn’t read?”
“No, I, uh…” Hayden shook the truth of her words from his thoughts. “Why did you warn me?”
She sat up and gestured to the chairs opposite. Once Hayden and Ebus were seated, she began, “I’m Amanda, by the way. Ye don’t have to tell me yer names, since it’s obvious yer trying to hide who ye really are.”
Ebus’ eyes bulged, but he remained quiet.
“Why would you say that?” Hayden inquired. He’d taken pains to make sure he looked the part.
“Yer fingernails are far too clean for a day worker.” Her gaze settled on Ebus and she smiled. “And neither one of ye did well carrying those boxes. I’d say yer more accustomed to carrying a sword than cargo.”
“I like her,” Ebus grumbled to Hayden. “Although, I do want to kill her.”
Amanda’s eyes widened, and then she smiled that infuriating smile again. Like she knew exactly which secrets to use against her enemy, but would draw it out as long as possible.
&
nbsp; “For argument’s sake, let’s say we’re not day workers. Again, why warn me?”
“I don’t know, really. I guess I like ye and the thought of ye getting killed bothered me. Ye do realize who those men are, don’t ye?” Hayden and Ebus both shook their heads. For whatever reason, Ebus was playing the simpleton. Hayden was fairly certain he knew not only who the men were, but what Amanda was going to say next.
“They’re mercenaries. The empress hired them to patrol the docks. All yer questions today caught their attention. After ye left, I heard them questioning the quartermaster and some of the other workers. When I saw them head off in the direction ye’d gone, I followed.”
Hayden shared a look with Ebus, who kept silent. “Why would the empress hire mercenaries when she has an army at her call?”
“Perhaps that’s a question ye should ask her. We’re not exactly on friendly terms.”
Despite himself, Hayden laughed. He liked the brash young woman. “Perhaps I will. I am Lord Valen, but my friends call me Hayden.” He half bowed to her from his seated position. “I thank you for your concern and your warning.”
The woman who’d let them in whistled and tossed her hair. “Nobility in me own home. I never.”
“Ye’ll speak of this to no one, Matilde.” Amanda threw a devilish look at the woman.
“Who would believe me?” Matilde kissed two fingertips and pressed them to the empty air before her. “You have my word.”
Hayden held out the few coins Ebus had given him. “Is this truly what you make for a day’s labor?”
Amanda glanced at the coins and nodded. “Sometimes less. It’s honest work for a day’s pay.”
“No, it’s robbery. How do you stand for this?” Ebus elbowed him, but he ignored the thief. “There should be laws to protect you.”
Amanda snorted a laugh. “Laws! For us? Now I know the sun got to yer head. Nobody cares about the peasants and workers. Not the empress, if that’s what yer thinking.” The more agitated she got, the thicker her accent became. “All she cares about is them mercenaries and her precious cargo.” She spat a great, yellow gob into the fireplace and Hayden looked away, repulsed.
The Temple of Sacrifice Page 11