by Anya Bast
Her eyes popped open. “Where?”
“I have what I needed from the Supreme. It took me a month to obtain it but I have it now. I’ve got to get it to Marken.”
“What is the information?”
He turned her toward him. “I thought when I first began discussing the war with the Supreme that Sudhra was destined to be defeated because of their arrogant overconfidence and underestimation of Nordan. To some extent, I still believe that. However, Nordan is set up right now for a sly trap instituted by Sudhraian forces. If I don’t warn Marken and Gregor of the ruse Sudhra intends, those troops may very well fall, and the course of this war will turn in Sudhra’s favor.”
Lilane shivered. If Sudhra won the war, they would rape Nordan, culling Nordanese spices, silks and women. They would crush the worship of the goddess and punish those who would not renounce her. “We don’t want that.”
Rue turned and walked across the room, pushing a hand through his hair in frustration. “My people grow restless. After centuries of having to pretend not to be Aviat, of having to hide their true selves, they are restless and highly impatient now that this new opportunity has presented itself. They yearn for freedom and the only place they can have that is in Nordan.”
He turned to her. “I must do this thing, Lilane. I must leave this morning.”
“Won’t the Supreme miss you?”
“He believes I travel out to take a look at the troops.”
“How long will you be gone?” She tried to ask in a way that made it seemed as though she didn’t care, but the sadness bled through her voice anyway.
“I don’t know, love, but I’ll return as quickly as I’m able. I’ll miss you, too.”
She turned toward the window so he couldn’t see her eyes. “It’s not that I’ll miss you,” she said with faux coolness. “I simply wish to know how soon we’ll be traveling back to Nordan.”
He went silent and she felt twinge of guilt.
“Where are your people, Rue?” she asked to break the sudden, uncomfortable silence.
“All around us, Lilane. But you’d never know any one of them from a non-Aviat.” He came to stand beside her at the window. The pink and orange hues of dawn were just beginning to break over the horizon. “I should leave. Get this over with. It weighs on me.”
Sorrow passed through her. She would miss him, no matter the act she put on. She didn’t say anything as he turned and dressed, all the while explaining to her that he’d ride out on horseback. When he was far enough from the Priestdom, he’d leave the horse with an Aviat peasant he knew and take to wing.
Strong hands braced her shoulders as he kissed her. “I’ll be back soon,” he said, then turned and walked out the door.
From the window, she watched him ride out of the courtyard, down the drawbridge and across the grassy plain that spread before the castle. She stared out at the horizon long after he’d disappeared, all the while examining her heart.
What she found there frightened her.
Chapter Nine
“Lilane.”
Lilane turned and saw Anaisse trying to catch up to her.
“My lady Anaisse,” Lilane said, curtsying.
“Cook has made gingerbread. It’s hot yet, fresh from the oven. Would you like to come with me to have a bit?” asked Anaisse. She flashed a smile that would probably bring the stoutest man to his knees.
Lilane had been pleased to see the gifts of fine Sudhraian gowns Rue had presented her with several weeks back, however next to Anaisse’s silver and gold shimmering finery she felt like the peasant she was.
But…Lilane mused, she wasn’t the one burdened with the dreaded girdle.
“Certainly, my lady Anaisse. I’d be honored.”
The kitchens were warm—too warm for a day as hot as it was. So they gathered a chunk of gingerbread and headed out to the gardens. Summer flowers bloomed all over the lush, enclosed area and bees, heavy with nectar, hovered just above the cobblestone paths.
Heavy, angry looking clouds were rolling in from the north. It had stormed on and off for several days, though this one looked far worse than they’d had thus far. Thunder boomed distantly.
Lilane wondered where Rue was right now. He’d been gone three days and she expected him back at any time. Hopefully, he wasn’t traveling through the approaching storm.
Lilane bit into the gingerbread and the sweet taste of it spread over her tongue. “May I ask why you choose to be kind to me,” she asked after she’d swallowed. “After I behaved the way I did at the dinner? Why should you associate with me at all, knowing I am what I am—a sex slave? And a Nordanese besides.”
Anaisse shrugged a delicate shoulder. “Rue is a special person to me. I’m sure you know the story of my sister by now.”
“Yes, my lady. It’s a tragic one.”
“Especially for Rue, who loved her, fought to save her and failed.”
They came to a stone bench and sat down. “He did everything he could to save my sister and was devastated when he could not,” said Anaisse. “He didn’t forgive himself for that failure for a long time, too long. Perhaps he never really has. I suppose I want to see him find a love again. Whether it is with a highborn lady or a sex slave taken from Nordan matters not to me. I believe he’s found that with you.”
Suddenly the gingerbread did not taste so good. “What makes you believe he loves me?”
Anaisse popped the rest of her gingerbread into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Finally she said, “It’s in his eyes when he looks at you. It’s the same way he once looked at Sania. His face is stoic, but his gaze” –-Anaisse shivered—”I can only dream a man would ever look at me that way.”
Lilane set the rest of her gingerbread on the edge of the bench. “You’re well-born, monied and beautiful. You have many such gazes in your future, I’m sure, Lady Anaisse.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m destined to marry the man my father believes would make the best political alliance. I have no part in the choice. Likely my husband will be old and frail and probably cruel.” She laughed. “Hardly the type to look upon me with true love in his eyes. Not the way Rue looks at you.”
“Lord Rue does not truly love me, my lady. I believe you mistake lust for love.”
She shook her head vigorously. “I mistake nothing.” She looked at Lilane and narrowed her eyes. Keen intelligence glimmered in their beautiful dark brown depths. “You’re afraid of Rue’s love, aren’t you?”
Lilane looked away, suddenly finding the red poppies blooming on the opposite side of the path extremely intriguing. “Afraid?”
“Why ever should you shy from the tender regard of a man such as Rue? Is it because you’re beneath him? Do you think yourself unworthy?”
Lilane took a deep breath. “It’s not that.” She turned to Anaisse. “I have known much loss in my life, Anaisse. It hurts to lose those you love. You know this.”
It seemed completely absurd to be revealing this to a Sudhraian, her enemy, but Lilane could not seem to stop the flow of her words. “To love someone and then lose them is to reach the pinnacle of grief. I recently reached that pinnacle three times over. I would like to avoid it happening again, that’s all.”
Anaisse smiled. “But, Lilane, you can’t live your life in fear of loss. You must take the loves and joys you find today and not think about the tomorrows.”
Lilane stood. She couldn’t sit here and discuss this with her. She was a Sudhraian. Her people were the ones who’d brought the loss to her in the first place. “Thank you for the gingerbread, my lady.”
“Lilane, you don’t have to go.”
Lilane bowed. “I leave you in the shining light of Anot, my lady.” She smiled weakly. “I’m fatigued and would like to lay down for a nap. Please excuse me.”
She didn’t wait for a response, but turned and started down the path leading back to the castle. The sky above them had darkened and a blot of lightning shot through the clouds.
“Lilane,”
called Anaisse. “Please remember that to push Rue away because you’re afraid is the same thing as losing him. You’ll still be grief-stricken in the end.”
Lilane closed her ears to her words and picked up her skirts, hurrying back into the castle.
She took the stairs leading to her chambers two at a time, as though she still wore her comfortable men’s trews instead of heavy skirts. She turned a corner at the top and came nose to chest with a powerfully built man. She looked up into the face of Lord Vant.
Could her afternoon get any worse?
His well-formed lips twisted in a cruel smile. “The little Nordanese sex slave. Where is your trainer? Hmmm? Oh. He’s away, isn’t he?”
Lilane took a step back, but he grabbed her by the upper arms, his fingers digging into her flesh painfully.
“What good luck,” he said. A sneer crossed his handsome face.
Before Lilane could even draw a breath, he began dragging her down the hall. “Let’s see what Lord Rue has taught you, shall we? We’ll put that pretty mouth to a use better suited to it than sass.”
Lilane struggled against him, forcing him to stop and throw her over his shoulder. “You pig” she yelled. “You filthy Sudhraian pig. Let me go!” From her lofty perch, she glanced around anxiously, looking for aid. A couple strolled leisurely down the hallway, but they pretended as though she was invisible.
Goddess-bedamned strange country.
Vant caressed her buttocks. “With such fire, you’ll likely make an excellent fuck. I can’t wait to sink my cock into you. I hope you struggle. That always excites me.”
Lilane kicked as hard as she could, landing a solid blow to his solar plexus. He grunted and tried to hold her legs down, but she was a wild thing. She wiggled and fought. He lost hold on her and she slid down the length of him.
Walking forward, he pinned her between the wall and himself, which was like being pressed against a boulder. “You better calm down right now, girl. I’ll make you pay for this in my bed. With every struggle, you owe more.”
“Bastard!” She lunged forward and bit the tender flesh of his ear…hard. Blood flooded her mouth.
He yelled out and released her. As soon as Lilane’s feet hit the floor, she ripped one of the decorative swords from the wall and unsheathed it. She whirled on him in battle stance, the edge of the blade angled toward his throat. “I didn’t fight against men like you my whole life to be raped by one now,” she bit off.
Vant stood there with a hand clapped over his ear and dangerous storm clouds passing over his face. They matched the dark skies outside. In the silence of their standoff, thunder boomed. A heavy, hard rain started outside the window near them.
A bell clanked from the north end of the castle, then from the south. The castle burst into motion. “The Nordanese are here!” cried someone from the corridor. “All arms to the battlements!”
Vant removed his hand. Blood coated it. “You bitch. You just got a reprieve. But know you just made it three times harder for yourself when I finally take you.” He stalked off down the hall.
Lilane lowered her sword and fell back against the wall behind her in relief. The castle’s inhabitants were coming out of their chambers, hurrying down the corridor past her. The Nordanese are here! She dropped the sword with a clatter and ran down the corridor along with the ever-thickening throng.
Pushing her way down the crowded stairs and through the panic in the courtyard, she climbed the stairs to the northern battlements. The rain pounded down on them all now and the wind whipped her skirts around her legs, loosed her hair from her coif and plastered it against her soaked face. She knew well she was not allowed up there. It was restricted to the archers and soldiers as they prepared themselves for the coming siege. But she had to see them. Just had to see….
“Woman! Get down from the battlements!” A large soldier strode toward her with purpose. “Off now, you silly wench. You’ll catch your death out here in the rain, if the Nordanese don’t give it to you first,” he yelled over the fury of the storm.
Ignoring him, she ran to the edge of the battlements. Her fingers spread flat on the stone barrier as her eyes searched the horizon desperately. Yes….there…. Strong Nordanese soldiers dotted the skyline, standing proud and stoic against the onslaught from the skies. Some were on horseback, other on foot. All looked ready to take this Priestdom.
Rue had been successful.
Strong arms grabbed her and pulled her back. Even the soldier’s rough hands biting into the bruised flesh of her upper arms couldn’t wipe the smile from Lilane’s mouth.
“Are you a simpleton, woman? Didn’t you hear me?” He pushed her hard toward the stairs, causing her to stumble. “Get down from here now. You’re underfoot.”
She caught herself before she pitched headfirst down the narrow stone stairs, and descended slowly. The wind had grown nothing but worse. Small bits of hail now pelted her skin. The courtyard, what she could see of it through her wet, whipping hair, was emptying out as the panicked people sought shelter within doors.
Nothing, not even the storm, could diminish Lilane’s happiness now. The only thing that put a damper on it was the fact that she could not share her excitement with Rue. Rue made everything sweeter, sexier, more pleasurable, she realized with a start—even the smallest, most commonplace thing, like waking up in the morning.
Sorrow stabbed through her. What would she do without him?
Deep in thought, she reached the bottom of the stairs and began to cross the courtyard toward the keep.
“Lilane!”
She turned and saw Jad fighting his way through the storm toward her. “Jad?”
He reached her and laid a strong hand to her forearm. “Lilane, you must come with me now. It’s Rue,” he pitched his voice over the wind. His face looked grim.
Fear and shock tore her breath away. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “You’ve got to come now. It’s an emergency. Come!” He motioned toward a door leading to one of the towers.
“All right,” she replied. Dread clenched her stomach. She couldn’t stand it if something had happened to Rue.
They hurried toward the tower.
* * * * *
The hooves of Rue’s mount pounded over the muddy ground, racing toward the Supreme Priestdom.
He’d traveled back with the Nordanese troops after having advised Marken and Gregor past the series of cleverly placed decoy troops the Sudhraians had been manipulated them toward utilizing a network of disinformation. Rue had been aware of all the true troop placements in Sudhra and had routed the Nordanese through a clear area. It’d taken them an extra day to obtain their intended destination, but, if the Nordanese could take the Supreme Priestdom, it had won them the war.
A few short sentences could fell a whole country, he mused bitterly.
The Nordanese troops were only steps behind. He urged his horse to a faster pace. Now he had to get back to the Priestdom and get Lilane before someone discovered what he’d done. It was far too early, he assured himself. No one could possibly know yet. But even the slimmest chance of Lilane being in danger had him in a near panic.
The castle rose in the distance. Through the driving rain he could make out little. Though he did see archers and soldiers on the battlements, preparing their weaponry for the coming battle. Dark threat gathered in the very air around him. Violence loomed in the black clouds overhead and conflict pulsed through the very earth.
His horse’s hooves clattered up the drawbridge. The portcullis had been secured and the guard on duty brought behind the fortress walls. They recognized him, however, and raised the claw-like portcullis just high enough to admit him. Behind him came the sound of heavy chain and the scraping of a piece of ponderous wood against the earth—the drawbridge being pulled in.
That alone should have put him at ease. Had they known what he’d done, they would’ve had an archer spear his unprotected heart before he’d even crossed the moat.
Still,
a glimmering of unease clutched at him. Perhaps some connection he had to Lilane that went past the ordinary. Usually only an Aviat bonded pair felt such an extrasensory tie, and Lilane was not an Aviat, at least not a full-blooded one. Rue suspected somewhere in her bloodline lurked a pair of wings. Something was wrong; he could feel it, and that reinforced his opinion that he and Lilane truly were a bonded pair.
At the moment he hoped it was not true, and these suspicions he now had were simply fanciful.
He galloped into the courtyard. Villagers, brought in from the surrounding countryside huddled against the inner walls, taking shelter from the coming onslaught as best as they were able. He dismounted, leaving the horse to find its own way to the warm, dry stables, and ran toward the keep.
Within, people hurried down the corridors, in and out of rooms. Panicked looks passed over their faces. Quick commands volleyed from one castle inhabitant to another. The Sudhraians had never expected to have to defend the Supreme Priestdom. The possibility of it had never even entered their minds. The surprise of it all showed clearly. He pounded up the stairs, headed straight for his chamber and, hopefully, Lilane.
He slammed the door open and found the chamber empty. He entered the room and found her nightdress still lying on the bed. Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled the scent of her still clinging to it. Her clothes were still hanging in the opened armoire. At least she hadn’t been fool enough to leave the castle on her own. No. She remained within castle walls. He knew that because he could feel it. If she’d been of stronger Aviat blood, he’d be able to pinpoint her exact location within the castle. As it was, her presence was only a whisper.
Rue turned on his heel and left the room. In the corridor, he pressed himself back against the wall to avoid the crush of people hurrying through it. Tiny hands clutched at his arm and he looked to see Ana, a fellow Aviat, looking up at him with frightened, yet hopeful eyes. In the rare times she could spread her wings they were of a sparrow. Her slight stature complemented her Aviat breed.