Daughter of Egypt

by Constance O'Banyon

  Thalia had no time to answer because he hardened once more and roughly took her. She cried out his name and held him tightly.

  After a while, he reached for a sponge and ran it over her body, even in the most intimate places. Then he lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the bath. She was surprised when he took a piece of soft linen and dried her body, paying particular attention to her breasts, which he kissed and caressed.

  “Time is against us, my queen. Although I am loath to leave you, I must.”

  “I understand your duty,” she told him, wishing with all her heart that he didn’t have to go.

  Thalia allowed herself the luxury of staring at Ashtyn’s muscular body. His shoulders were broad, his hips narrow, his legs powerfully shaped. When he paused to pull on his tunic, he gave her the smile that always twisted her insides.

  “We can have the morning meal together before I depart.”

  When they returned to the bedchamber, it was empty. But dependable Uzza, who seemed to anticipate what was needed before anyone had to ask for it, had prepared a table with roasted fowl, bowls of fruit and slices of thick white cheese.

  Thalia could hardly eat for the lump in her throat. “Where will you go?”

  “There is heavy fighting in the mountains, where our men need fresh supplies and reinforcements.”

  “You will be in danger,” she said, taking a cluster of grapes and biting into one of them, trying not to show her distress.

  He sliced a chunk of cheese and handed it to her. “No more so than the others. They need to see me and know that I once more fight with them.”

  “If I had been born male instead of female, I would ride beside you.”

  He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “And that would be such a pity. I would rather have you waiting for me when I return.”

  Suddenly she saw him frown, and his mind seemed to be somewhere else.

  “How long will you be away?” Thalia asked.

  Ashtyn had not heard her, so she asked once more. “When will you return?”

  “Forgive me,” he said, turning his attention back to her. “In truth I was thinking of King Melik, and the sad news I will have to give the soldiers when I reach camp.”

  “ ’Tis not an enviable task. But say to them that I intend to do everything as my grandfather would have wanted it done.” She frowned. “Will that comfort them?”

  “Aye. More than you can imagine.” He raised her hand and examined it. “ ’Tis but a small hand, yet it wields the might and power of Bal Forea.”

  “If only I could do more.”

  “No more is expected of you.”

  Ashtyn’s words cut deep.

  “I am not a decoration to be displayed for all to see. Queen Cleopatra rode out with her armies when she was younger. If it comes to that, so shall I.”

  “There is much you have to learn here, and Lord Parinez is anxious to teach you.”

  “The woman you wanted to marry when you were younger, would she have been a mere decoration?” Hurt and anger swept her mind, but she hid it behind a lofty gaze. “What was her name?”

  Ashtyn blinked his eyes and frowned, “How can I recall what happened in my youth?” Then his eyes lit up. “I remember—her name was Shajada.”

  Thalia stood. “You can take your thoughts of her with you when you leave.” She raised her head regally. “No doubt you wished it was she with you last night.”

  He rose, the look on his face one of confusion. “Give me a man, and I’ll strip him of his secrets with little effort. But I will never understand a woman, especially not you.”

  “Precisely.”

  Ashtyn seemed to be groping for words. “I wanted only you—”

  Thalia moved toward the door with long, lithe steps and turned back to him, noticing his bewildered expression. “Leave me and go to your Shajada. This is my chamber.”

  “You are asking me to leave? Why?”

  “I am queen; therefore, I don’t need a reason. Just go.”

  He stalked to the door, not knowing whether to be angry or amused. “Will you send me back to war with harsh words on your sweet lips?” Ashtyn was reluctant to leave her this way. He had just spent the most unbelievable night with her in his arms.

  She stood before him, silent and unyielding.

  With resignation, Ashtyn swept her a bow. “Most Gracious Majesty, I shall send messengers daily so you will know how goes the war.”

  Thalia was barely able to hold back tears as she said, “May the gods keep you safe and give you victory over our enemies.”

  That night Thalia lay in her bed, feeling empty inside. She pressed her hand on her stomach in wonderment, hoping Ashtyn had planted his child in her. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine what he was doing at that very moment. Night shadows crept across the room, and still Thalia did not sleep.

  Even into the early morning hours she reached for sleep, but it did not find her.

  Lord Sevilin rolled over in bed and patted the woman beside him on the arm. “Get out. I hear my mother’s approach.”

  The curly headed beauty pouted. “Allow me to stay.”

  He nudged her toward the edge of the bed. “You can return tonight.”

  Smiling, she slid to the floor and scampered out the hidden door just as Lady Vistah entered. “I have been about our business while you rut with a woman of the street.”

  Sevilin clasped his hands behind his head. “She isn’t a woman of the street, Mother. She is the wife of one of my captains.”

  Lady Vistah waved her hand in dismissal. “I didn’t come here to speak of such nonsense.”

  He yawned. “Really, Mother—what about the young men you take to your bed? Do you think I don’t know about them?”

  “You may know, but no one else does. I’m discreet, while you flaunt your women for all to see. But I’m here to speak of another woman,” she said, sinking onto the edge of his bed. “The new queen of Bal Forea.”

  Sevilin’s eyes narrowed. “Aye. It will be a bit harder to capture her now, but it can be done.”

  “Fool! Have you not been told of her marriage?”

  Sevilin scowled, bringing an ugly twist to an otherwise handsome face. “Count Ashtyn?”

  “Who else but he? But now he’s Prince Ashtyn. He was handpicked by the king long ago, even though I tried to persuade the king that you would be a better choice.”

  Sevilin slammed his fist into a pillow. “And what was the good king’s answer? That my lineage was not as elevated as Ashtyn’s?”

  “Something like that,” Lady Vistah replied. “I didn’t choose well when I married your father. He had no wealth, and but a minor title.”

  Sevilin had heard about his father’s defects many times before. “If you came with the intention of spoiling my day, you have succeeded. But, if you came here with the notion of harming the new queen, you should know that would not fall in with my plans.”

  Lady Vistah jumped to her feet. “You have no plans! Now that the people have a queen, they will rise up against us, and we will lose all.” Her expression contorted with fury, and resentment flared inside her mind. “That young woman has been given everything I ever wanted, and she has done nothing to deserve it. She has youth, and they say no one can rival her in beauty, while I see my beauty slipping away. She now commands the loyalty and devotion of most of the fighting men. They will follow her like geese in a row—watch and see if I’m not right.”

  “Mother, we still have those who are loyal to us. We are not yet defeated. We must find a way to capture the queen.”

  “Foolish, foolish man—how do you expect to accomplish that? Think you she does not have loyal guards surrounding her? They will have been hand-picked by Ashtyn.”

  Sevilin’s brow furrowed. “Loyalty can be bought.”

  “Think of it,” his mother said, paying little attention to what he’d said. “This Thalia had a kingdom thrust upon her, and it was said she fought against wearing the crown. All was gi
ven to her. And now, to make matters worse, my own son is softening toward her. I have seen you daydreaming about her.”

  He shrugged. “As you said, she is reputed a beauty. I only try to imagine what she looks like. I recall her mother, a very beautiful woman.”

  “This queen will never be yours, Sevilin. She has everything else, but she will never have my son!”

  Sevilin looked quickly into his mother’s eyes. She’d been behaving oddly ever since word reached them that the young princess had landed on the island. He wondered if her mind had been affected by the death of her ambitions. “Surely the young queen has already been bedded by Ashtyn. If he has her with child, we might as well board a ship and find somewhere to hide.”

  She turned to him. “I know ways to get rid of unborn babies, so do not look at that as a problem.”

  Sevilin stared into the distance. “We don’t even know that is necessary. We have bigger concerns at the moment. I have been informed some of our troops have deserted us.”

  “You must issue orders that anyone deserting will be slain on the spot.” With those as her parting words, Lady Vistah stalked out of her son’s bedchamber. There had to be a way to capture the woman who’d stolen the throne from her. Her eyes narrowed as she became swamped with anger. Sevilin was practically worthless to her now.

  But then her eyes brightened—did she not have her own spies in the palace?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ashtyn and his men rode single file along a narrow mountain pass. When they reached a wider path, he motioned Captain Darius to his side.

  “Tell me,” he said, lowering his voice so the others wouldn’t hear, “have you ever loved a woman?”

  “Aye, Commander. In my younger years, I loved many a woman, but not so many of late. War tends to interfere with a man’s love life. And like you, I’m not interested in those women who are camp followers, so there’s an end to it.”

  “I am not talking about the women who have temporarily shared your bed. I am talking about a woman who gets into your mind, so you can think of little else save her. She takes my breath away.”

  “Commander, is it not called love when you give joy to a woman and take some for yourself?”

  “You speak not of love, but of lust. What I feel is loving one woman to the exclusion of all others. I don’t see other women, I don’t want them.” He lowered his head. “Love is hateful, it tears at the heart and renders a man foolish in his own eyes.”

  Understanding dawned on the captain. “You speak of the queen? Who would not love such a woman?”

  “How can a man understand a woman? Suppose you had a woman who was angry with you for something that happened long before you met her. A trifle—nothing more. What would you do?”

  Captain Darius nodded. “I always find if you give them a gift they forget about being angry. They like pretty trinkets.”

  “And what would you suggest I give a queen who can command anything she wishes?”

  “That would be a bit of a problem. But the queen is your wife, and there’s an end to it.”

  Ashtyn applied his heel to the horse’s flanks, and the animal jumped forward into a dead run, leaving the others to follow. He’d already said too much about his own affairs. But what he’d confessed to Captain Darius would go no farther. He was Ashtyn’s closest confidant and would never repeat what they’d spoken of.

  Smoke rose in the air, and the sound of clashing swords broke the silence. Ashtyn motioned for his men to dismount. He unsheathed his sword and rushed into the fray.

  Thalia realized glumly that she could never be the kind of queen everyone expected her to be. The more Lord Parinez instructed her on her duties, the more unworthy she felt. Being a queen in time of war was a daunting task. Thalia’s thoughts turned to Ashtyn. Had he been wounded? Was he alive?

  Although they had spent only one night together as man and wife, she sorely missed him. If only her last words to him had not been spoken in anger.

  “Majesty?”

  Her mind jolted back to the present, and she realized Lord Parinez had been speaking, and she hadn’t heard a word. “I beg pardon,” she said. “Could you repeat what you were saying?”

  “I was explaining the troubles the women are facing in the city. Majesty, there is hunger. There are mothers who have lost their children, and suckling babies who have no mother.” He sighed. “I fear you have inherited a flawed country, war-torn and bankrupt.”

  Thalia sat silent for a moment, then looked at the lord chamberlain. “I know nothing about finances or war, but my mother did instruct me on the functions of a huge villa. If this sounds foolish, tell me so: Why could we not match suckling babies with women who lost their own children and have breasts full of milk? Further, it seems the only food source is the sea—why not send out a fishing fleet each day and have them share the catch with the population?”

  Lord Parinez smiled with jubilation. “Majesty, it takes a woman to discover ways a man would overlook. I believe it would be prudent to find women to take care of the children—but we have no men for the fishing boats.”

  Thalia stood slowly, her brow creased in a frown. “Then women will have to man the boats.”

  “But Majesty, the women know nothing about fishing.”

  “By the gods, Lord Parinez, they can learn! If people are hungry, something must be done at once—something extreme.” She hurried toward the door. “I myself will go into the city and see this thing done. Give me time to change my clothing and meet me in the outer courtyard within the hour.”

  “But it is not safe—”

  She paused and glanced back at him. “What is the life of one woman against a multitude of hungry women and children? Our men risk their lives every day—can we not see that their families are fed and relieve them of that worry?”

  Lord Parinez watched in stunned silence as the queen stalked out the door. Then a slow smile lit his eyes. “By all I hold dear, she is magnificent! And a credit to her exalted grandfather.”

  The scribe glanced up from his reed mat. “Pardon, Lord Chamberlain, should I take that down?”

  “Nay. I was just musing on how such a tiny slip of a girl, who had been raised to run a household, was also taught common sense. She sees what is to be done with a fresh eye.” Lord Parinez clasped his hands behind him and strolled toward the door, his footsteps lighter than they had been in many seasons. “Watch our queen rise to one day rival even the majesty of the great queen of Egypt!”

  Still the scribe was confused. “Shall I record those words?”

  “Nay, nay. Fold your tablet. You heard merely the words of an old man that would be of no interest to anyone.”

  When Thalia emerged from the bedchamber, she saw Eleni moving quickly down the corridor, and wondered how she had gained access to this part of the palace since it was so well guarded.

  She had intended to have Eleni brought back into her service, but now was not the time; there were other matters that needed her attention.

  Eleni halted when Thalia called out to her.

  “Majesty,” she said, bowing low, “I have information you should know about.”

  “Then accompany me.”

  Without hesitating, Eleni followed the queen to a small garden.

  “It is good to see you again,” Thalia said, smiling. “I regret I cannot give you much time today.”

  Eleni lowered her gaze as if she could not look into Thalia’s eyes. “Majesty, I must not remain long, myself—the guards could discover me at any moment.”

  “That should not worry you. I will not allow them to send you away, if that is your fear,” Thalia assured her. There was something different about Eleni’s appearance—her plain blue shift was soiled and wrinkled, and her hair was tangled about her face. “What are your concerns?”

  The woman glanced about furtively. “I dare not call attention to myself.”

  “Then tell me what you have to say.”

  “Majesty, there are harmful rumors abo
ut you and Prince Ashtyn. It is said your union is not a true one, and that he left without consummating the marriage.”

  Thalia was appalled. “Who has planted such a rumor?”

  “I do not know the individual who started it, but Lord Sevilin could profit by it—he would like the people to believe there will be no child from your marriage with Prince Ashtyn.” The girl looked directly into Thalia’s eyes. “If there is no truth to such rumblings, they should be squelched without delay.”

  Worriedly, Thalia glanced toward the palace. “There is a war raging, and our minds are better served by attending to that front than in listening to malicious gossip.”

  Eleni reached out to Thalia, then let her hand drop. “Such viciousness can spread like wildfire. I have a friend in the rebel camp. Let me discover what he knows, and I will find a way to get word to you.”

  Thalia shook her head. “Nay, do not. We shall allow the rumors to die from lack of reaction from us.”

  “I beg you, Majesty, do not take it lightly. Wars are won and lost on just such scraps of information.”

  “I shall not give in to gossips. Nor should you. You are dismissed now, Eleni.”

  Eleni bowed stiffly, then turned away and hurried across the garden. Puzzled, Thalia watched her disappear around a hedge. Shaking her head, she pondered their conversation. Were the people of Bal Forea putting too much importance on her marriage?

  She lifted her head and dismissed the rumor as so much nonsense.

  Widow Craymon felt the touch of the cool breeze on her face as she swept her front stoop. When she heard the commotion from the crowd gathered at the public fountain, she dropped her broom and hurried in that direction. The women she passed had dazed expressions on their faces, and the widow saw why when she reached the town square: The young queen was riding in their direction at the head of her entourage.