by Bridie Blake
There was light coming through the windows and the sounds of rushed whispers. She followed him through the door.
“Wait here,” he whispered as he left her in the hall.
Within moments he reappeared, Lindow at his heels.
“If your father knew...”
“And what of your ma? She’d have your head for this.”
“You don’t sneak out and join the fighting again. You hear me?”
“I’m fighting for the same reason as you. I want change in this kingdom.” She glared at him and crossed her arms. “Besides I can help.”
“You’re a noble lady with a father who had a Kalaowin wife and a prince chasing you. If you’re spotted, they’ll kill you. And your family. You will be a traitor to the crown.”
“Then I won’t get spotted.”
He closed his eyes and took a breath, his patience waning. He opened his eyes, and she saw the fear swimming in them. “Please. Just promise you’ll stay away.”
“I can’t make that promise. But I do promise that I will be careful,” she said and reached out to take his hand. “Let’s go home.”
Lindow peered over her head at Keane, and the stable hand gave a small nod of his head. And an understanding was reached between the two men. If she tried to help again, one of them would be there to drag her back home.
—
Wimarc frowned as his son stood before him, arms crossed firmly against his chest. He normally admired Nic’s stubbornness. Was beyond proud that he had taken after him in that way. But on this matter it was giving him nothing but daily headaches that pounded his temples incessantly. He had drilled into his son from the day he could talk that his duties to the crown were to come before all else. Yet here he was, demanding his own choice in bride instead of a match that would benefit the kingdom. What was so special about this girl that he would jeopardize everything his ancestors had worked for?”
“You need to marry for the good of Kamara, Nicolass. You can’t bind yourself to the first girl who turns your head.”
“I love her!”
“Love?” He scoffed. “Kings don’t marry for love.”
“You love mother.”
“Now I do. Something changes when you see a woman bearing your child. A respect for her grows and love forms. You will see that with your bride.”
“But I already love someone. Marrying Tempani will be good for the kingdom. It could be an end to the unrest between us and the Kalaowins.”
“That’s just what she wants you to think. The moment she bears you a son, you will be insignificant. She will slit your throat, and a Kalaowin will lead our people.”
“She is Otto’s daughter! Do you really think her capable of such things?”
“It’s because she’s Otto’s daughter that I know her to be capable. He is a ruthless knight. The best I’ve seen. His children will have inherited that along with the savageness of their mother.”
“He is your friend.”
“Yes, he is, but I don’t fool myself into believing he wasn’t bewitched by Hamalia.”
“Why send us to Amarill when we were younger? Why allow us to befriend them?”
“Your mother adored Hamalia. She can be very insistent when she wants to be. And Otto is a loyal servant to me. He would have died before letting harm come to my boys.” He sighed and rubbed his temples. “Look, your friendship with Chae is fine. I have no qualms with him. He is a fine man and has pledged his sword to the kingdom. But we don’t know what type of woman Tempani has become. Who is to say that she hasn’t adopted the ways of the Kalaowins during her absence?”
“She hasn’t!”
He shook his head. “I can’t allow it. It’s too risky. Marry Princess Naleeni. If you still want Tempani then take her to your bed as you please. But do not get her pregnant.”
Anger flashed through Nic’s eyes. “You mean for me to keep her as my whore?”
“We both get what we want that way.”
“That is not what I want,” he hissed.
“You cannot marry her. I will not hear of it.”
Nic tried to calm himself down. His father would not listen to him if he threatened or got angry. It would only make him more determined to win. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them he hoped to find his father staring back and not his ruler. “I have given my all to this kingdom, and all I ask is for this one thing in return. Give her a chance to prove that she is dedicated to Kamara. Please. A chance is not too much to ask.”
Wimarc watched his son and frowned. Nic wouldn’t budge on this until he saw for himself that Tempani wasn’t fit to be his wife. “One chance,” he said. “But the moment she steps out of line you will be betrothed to Princess Naleeni.”
“Agreed,” he said. “But you needn’t bother. She will prove herself.”
Wimarc ushered his son out of the room and then returned to his desk and picked up his quill. He would make sure she didn’t succeed.
—
Tempani, with Tilaw at her feet, picked her way through the deserted streets. The stench of burnt flesh was overwhelming. Rando walked beside her, offering a hand when she needed to climb over rubble.
Her knock on the Proite’s door was answered by an exhausted Leandra, a streak of soot smeared across her cheek. Tempani squeezed her arm and then followed her down the narrow corridor. The back two rooms of their home had been transformed into makeshift healer’s quarters.
“He hasn’t stopped,” Leandra whispered as they entered one of the rooms and found Colbert leaning over a young man whose shoulder had a deep gash. “He’ll over extend himself. He doesn’t have enough training to do much more. The crown saw to that,” she spat.
Tempani crept over and rested her hand on Colbert’s arm. “Take a nap. Let me help.”
He jerked at her words, his eyes widening in fright. “No,” he whispered. “You can’t heal outside the convent.”
“I won’t use magic. I know how to mend without it.”
She pushed him towards Leandra, who practically had to drag him from the room. Tempani looked down at the man, who could not have been more than fifteen. The panic in his eyes tore at her heart. She smoothed his dark hair off his face.
“Just relax. I’ll make this better.”
“They was goin’ to hurt me ma,” he croaked. “Didn’ see the sword come at me.”
“It’s all right,” she breathed. “You were very brave.”
She grabbed a clean cloth and soaked it under water before dabbing away at the blood that had dried at the wound opening.
“Needle and thread,” she said to Rando. “Find me some.”
While he rummaged around, she opened a bottle of brandy and poured it through the man’s dry lips. “Trust me,” she said when he tried to push her hand away. “What I’m about to do will hurt.” She took the bottle from his lips and tipped a little over his wound to fight any infection. His screams rang through the house. She brought the bottle back to his lips and this time he accepted it without hesitation.
Rando thrust the needle and thread in her hands, and she set to work, stitching the wound closed. The man flinched each time the needle pierced his skin, and she kept apologizing, wishing there was more she could do. Her hands itched to take the pain away, but she couldn’t. It would be her life if she did.
“Colbert can heal you once you’re rested,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you.”
Rando gripped her shoulder. “You did what you could,” he said. “It was enough.”
Tempani wiped away her tears, not caring that her hands were covered in blood. She had stitched up another three wounds by the time Colbert woke up.
“These people are hurt because of me.”
“You helped four good men,” Colbert said and offered her a seat, but she shook her head. “Remember that.”
“We’d best get back. I told papa I was just going for a ride.”
But she didn’t want to go home. She was angr
y, and she wanted answers, She needed to understand why she was helpless. Why Colbert could only do so much.
“The Reign of Fear,” Darby said when they were seated in his library. “The days of Queen Letish and King Hulion.”
“They’re the ones that stripped the commoners of all their rights, aren’t they?”
Darby nodded. “They were banned from attending the University and from holding down important professions. They were not allowed to be priests or nuns, and they forbid them from being healers. No commoner was allowed to use magic. If any of them spoke out against the crown, they were arrested and hung without trial. It was a terrifying time. Curfews were invoked, and meetings of more than five commoners were forbidden. Any disobedience and they too were hung.”
“Why didn’t any of the nobles speak out against it? Surely they saw what was being done?” Tempani shuddered at the thought of what it would have been like in that time.
“It wasn’t only commoners who were hung for speaking out against the crown. Nobles met the same fate,” he said. “Lord Elian of Shanda accused King Hulion of being weak in allowing Queen Letish to terrorize the kingdom. He warned Hulion that she would be the undoing of their kingdom. The nobles woke the next morning to find him hanging from the queen’s balcony.”
“Did Lord Elian know what she was plotting?”
“I doubt it. It was just thought that she was power hungry. They never imagined she was a traitor also.”
“Thank you, Yuta,” Tempani said when the young man poured her and Darby a cup of tea.
“She sold Kamara’s secrets to Euphemia and intercepted warnings of their armies pouring in over the border because they promised her she would be queen of the combined kingdoms once she married their King Allois. Euphemia invaded us in little over a week.”
“What happened to Hulion and Letish?”
“She murdered Hulion while he slept at night and then claimed a Euphemian knight had done it. King Allois saw this as betrayal and had her hanged.”
“People say she was a sorceress, don’t they?”
“During Euphemia’s rule there were stories that she had used her magic to convince Hulion to marry her and to control him during their reign. Whether it’s true or not, I don’t know, but people believe it.”
“So when King Raleigh came to power, he forbade women the use of their magic?”
“Exactly,” he said. “He had enough sense though to allow common men to heal but refused them any further use of their powers.”
“But in the convent we can heal. Why?”
“King Raleigh claimed the Great God Windel came to him in a dream and told him the convent was a sacred place and that women who enter there were to be exempt from the law.”
“All this because one woman turned traitor?”
“It was a terrible time for this kingdom. Because of her, no queen here will ever be anything more than an ornament for people to look at. She will never have a voice.”
“Thought I might find you here.” Chae’s voice made her jump. “Sorry to interrupt, but you really should be heading home Tempani.”
“Quite right,” Darby said and ushered them to the door.
“How do you do it?” She whispered. “We’re all helpless, aren’t we?”
Darby winked at her. “I drink.”
Tempani guessed they all had different ways of dealing with their feelings. Hers might not be the safest, but it did the trick. So when she got home and was safely tucked in her room, she reached for her dagger and welcomed the release as the blood oozed out of her shoulder.
She vowed that she would have a voice in this kingdom. She would not become an ornament that Nic paraded at court. She was not going down that path. She would give him no more encouragement.
She was able to put her plan into action the following evening at a palace dinner. The king wanted to show his nobles that life would continue as normal in the wake of the latest riot so he was throwing a lavish feast.
She spent the entire meal anxiously waiting for it to be over. She knew that as soon as it was she would have to move quickly or she’d be approached by Nic. Before she knew it, the king rose from the table to signal the meal was over.
With a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw him approaching them with a smile. She knew he was on his way to ask her to dance, and as much as she may want to, she knew she had to decline. Or she could just avoid him altogether, which seemed like the better option so she got to her feet and dragged Dahlia up with her.
“Walk with me,” she said as she linked her arm through Dahlia’s and walked away, leaving Nic staring after them in bewilderment.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to show him that I have no interest in being courted by him.”
Dahlia raised her fine eyebrows at her friend. “You don’t?”
“It’s not worth all the drama that will follow.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. So please help me and ask him to dance.”
Dahlia sighed but did as her friend asked and moved towards Nic.
Tempani slipped through the doors and found a spot on the terrace that was partially obscured by the blossom trees. She leaned against the railing, resisting the urge she felt to go inside and talk to him.
Instead she tried to focus on why she was doing it. She’d seen the violence of the Guard, and she would not be the cause of further rioting. The people of the city didn’t deserve it. If they didn’t want her to be queen, then she wouldn’t be.
She had brief moments though of wondering why she felt the need to help people who hated her - who didn’t want her to marry their prince. But deep down she knew it was because they didn’t know any better. They had been taught to hate her kind and knew no different. So long as she could help them without being discovered, then she would continue to.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
She jumped as Nic came around the corner.
“Did the other day mean nothing to you?” He stepped closer and cupped her face. “That kiss was the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. His touch was distracting her. Clouding her mind and her resolve.
“We can make it work,” he breathed. “The Guard have captured the ringleaders of the riot. They’ll be punished and so will any others who fight our union.”
Her eyes flew open, and she stepped away from him. “I have to go.”
“Tempani.”
She hesitated, the pleading in his voice pained her, but she had to stay strong. She knew this was hurting him, but it was for the best. “Goodnight,” she said and tried to walk past him, but he grabbed her around the waist.
“I’m not giving up.” He released her and watched her walk away.
—
She waited until the manor was asleep, and then she left, moving with stealth as she made her way on foot into the city. Another fight had broken out while she’d been dining at the palace.
Her hair was tucked tightly under her cap again, and she’d smeared her face with soot from the hearth. If she did stumble across Keane or Lindow, she was sure they wouldn’t recognize her.
By the time she’d reached the city, the fighting had died down. Wounded bodies littered the streets and were being carried off to safety by those who were able. One man struggled as he tried to drag another along. She rushed over and gripped the injured man’s legs. Together they carried him to a home where he was taken into a room and seen to by a healer.
She waved away the man’s thanks as she left them and returned to the street. There was a scream up ahead, and she broke into a run to see what was happening. When she got closer she slowed, and pressed herself against the shadows.
Under the light of the moon she saw a man on his knees, pleading to the Guard who had their swords pointed at his chest.
“Please,” he cried. “I didn’t do nothin’.”
“You were seen with a knife.” A cold voice
cut through, and Tempani gasped when Lord Ricton stepped towards the man. “You are a traitor to the crown.”
“I’m a baker,” he said. “I need it for work.”
Ricton laughed, but it was a laugh devoid of humor. “You lie.” He raised his hands, and the baker’s body convulsed before bursting into flames.
A hand covered Tempani’s mouth, stifling her scream. The slight noise she did make was drowned out by the screams of agony from the baker.
Her eyes were wide as she watched the man die before her. When his screams ended, his body was doused with water.
“Leave him here,” Ricton ordered the Guard. “Let them see what we do to traitors.”
Tears ran from her eyes and dripped over the hand that was still clasped to her mouth. She was turned around and held tightly against someone. His coat was rough against her cheek, and he smelled of familiar spices.
His lips pressed against her head. “Come.” His arm remained around her shoulders as he guided her home.
“They’re monsters,” she choked. “Murderers.”
Rando looked down at her, and sighed. He offered no explanation as there was none to give. What they had witnessed was the way of the kingdom.
—
“What is the latest chapter in your man troubles?” Leandra asked as she handed her visitors tea with drops of sweet honey stirred through.
“Prince Nicolass has become difficult,” Dahlia said, choosing her words carefully. “The more she evades him, the angrier he becomes.”
Tempani shifted uncomfortably in her chair. It was true. Nic’s temper was shorter these days but that could have more to do with the small fights still breaking out in the city. And word of the baker’s murder had reached the palace, and fingers were being pointed towards the commoners. Tempani wanted to tell them the truth, but she knew it would not be believed.
“The prince always seems such a kind man. But I guess he is his father’s son.”
“Oh no, Leandra, he is kind. Love makes us do crazy things.”
“There’s no need to exaggerate Dahlia,” Tempani said, her cheeks flushing a deep red.
“The feeling’s not mutual?”
“Of course not.”
Leandra hid her grin as she served her friends a piece of warm cake. Tilaw licked his lips as his mistress broke off a piece and handed it to him.