Daughter of Egypt

by Constance O'Banyon

  Eleni’s face whitened. “I was told if you did not come alone, Count Ashtyn would be slain before you could reach the rendezvous point.” Eleni looked frightened. “I am sorry, Majesty. I believe they will do just that. What have they to lose?”

  Thalia was still not convinced. “How did Turk locate you?”

  “I had returned to my village in the mountains to live in the house my aunt left me. Turk sought me there.”

  Thalia was torn.

  “Where am I to meet Lord Sevilin?”

  “Turk said he would be waiting near the mountain road to take you to the rebel camp. I have horses waiting in the outer courtyard. I was told you should dress as a servant, and I have brought you clothing so no one will recognize you when we ride out the gate.”

  Everything was too well thought out, and it sounded like a trap. But if Lord Sevilin was holding Ashtyn prisoner, Thalia had no choice. “I will accompany you, but if this is a trap, you will be branded as a traitor.”

  Eleni bowed her head, waiting for the queen to dress herself in the plain homespun woolen gown and cloak.

  Thalia picked up her jewel-handled dagger and shoved it into her sash, fearing for Ashtyn. “Let us go. But if they have spilled one drop of my husband’s blood, they will pay with their lives!”

  The yawning guard paid scant attention to the two servant women who rode out the front gate. After all, he was supposed to search those entering, not those who left. He covered another yawn and blinked his eyes to stay awake. If the captain caught him napping, it would be the worst for him.

  But a wiser eye than the young guard observed the two women. The old woman, Didra, hobbled onto the roadway to watch two horses disappear around a corner. She hurried as fast as her aching knees would allow her, and watched them take the road leading toward the mountain path.

  Her all-seeing eye blinked. Why would the queen sneak out of the palace in the dead of night? The old woman was certain nothing good could come of it.

  “Nay,” she said aloud. “There is trickery here.” She hobbled toward the palace, her pace slow and painful.

  The moon was high above the treetops as Eleni led the queen away from the main road to a path that sloped steeply downward. All Thalia could think of was Ashtyn. He would have fought his enemies if they tried to capture him; therefore, he must be injured. Fear crept into her heart. What if he was dead?

  Thalia could not allow herself to ponder such thoughts.

  At one point the incline was so steep they had to dismount and lead the horses the rest of the way to the bottom.

  “Turk said he’d meet us here,” Eleni said, glancing around her. “He should have been waiting for us. I wonder why he isn’t?”

  “Aye. I am here,” spoke the man Thalia had hoped never again to encounter. She slowly turned to face him, anger burning inside her. “Where is my husband?”

  Turk looked not at her but just above her head, as if he was hesitant to meet her gaze. “Such a stern greeting for an old friend. I was sure you’d be happy to see me.”

  “We have never been friends. Take me to my husband at once!” Thalia demanded.

  At last he looked at her. “I do believe you are blooming. Bal Forea seems to agree with you. Or perhaps ’tis Prince Ashtyn who is responsible for the bloom on your cheeks?”

  “I did not come here to trade pleasantries with you. Take me to my husband.”

  “Aii,” he said with a pretended shiver, “you now sound like a queen. How quickly our little mouse turned into a roaring lion.”

  “You tricked me! You do not have my husband! How did you come by Ashtyn’s ring?”

  Turk laughed. “It was not difficult to have a goldsmith duplicate it.”

  A prickle of unease touched the back of Thalia’s neck and slid down her spine. She turned to Eleni, who was cowering near her horse. “How could you betray me?”

  “Don’t blame the poor woman. She likes a particular color—gold.” Turk tossed a pouch to Eleni. “Enjoy your reward. And remember this,” he said, reaching out to grip Thalia’s wrists, “no one likes a betrayer, so do not seek sanctuary in any rebel camp.”

  Eleni refused to meet Thalia’s angry gaze, but her mouth narrowed spitefully. She ducked her head and led her horse away. Then she stopped and glanced back. “I did not want to betray you, Majesty. But you betrayed me first.”

  Thalia was appalled at the woman’s accusation. “It is said that the weak thrust the blame for their misdeeds on others because they cannot look into their own hearts and see the evil there. To have betrayed someone who trusted you is something you will have to live with for the rest of your life.”

  Turk glanced down at Thalia. “You would never betray a friend, little Queen. Your heart is truer than the gold given that woman.”

  “You let Lord Parinez dismiss me,” Eleni stated spitefully. “You never asked for me.”

  Thalia shook her head in disgust. “It would seem my good lord chamberlain is a better judge of character than I.”

  With a grim smile, Turk said, “See how tall trees grow from small seeds. In Eleni’s mind, you were supposed to raise her up when you became queen—to her way of reasoning, you turned your back on her. It is always the same with those who take the crown.” He clicked his tongue and looked at Eleni. “You should have expected it.”

  “I befriended this woman.” Thalia glanced at Eleni. “Had you come to me, I would have found you a position at the palace. You know this to be true.”

  “I would never have begged,” the woman spat. “My family all died for Bal Forea, and where are their rewards?”

  “Hear this, Eleni. I am queen, and one day you shall stand before me and be judged for your treachery.”

  Although Thalia could not see the woman’s face, she felt her shrink from her. A short time later, she heard Eleni ride away.

  Thalia turned her attention back to Turk. “You did not capture my husband, did you?”

  “If we could have captured Prince Ashtyn, he would have been in our prison long ago. But you came, Majesty, just as I knew you would. That’s inexperience for you.”

  “Take me to your puppet master so we may get this thing done. I assume you are taking me to the traitor and coward, Lord Sevilin.”

  “Mount up,” Turk said, reaching out to grab her horse’s reins and yanking them forward. He no longer made an attempt to hide his anger as he said, “You will soon discover who is a traitor, and who has honor.”

  “Turk,” Thalia said, knowing she was his prisoner, “I am learning quickly who to trust. I should have remembered how doggedly you hunted me throughout the years. I feared you, I disliked you, but I never considered you would not be a man of your word. You had Eleni bring me here under false pretenses.”

  The big man blinked his eye as if she’d struck him. He helped her onto her horse and led her toward the distant woods.

  Chapter Thirty

  Didra stared at the palace guard through her one good eye. “Let me pass—I must see Lord Parinez at once. If you do not let me through, you’ll be the cause of the queen being harmed.”

  “Get you gone, old crone. What can you have to say that the lord chamberlain would want to hear?”

  “Heed my words carefully, fool. Did you perchance see two women ride out of this gate a short time ago?”

  “Aye. Servants they were.” The guard shifted his weight from one foot to the other, uneasy under her scrutiny. “But what use is that information to Lord Parinez?”

  “For this reason: One of them was a betrayer, and the other was the queen. If you don’t take me to the lord chamberlain, it will be too late to save the queen. Then you will have to answer to Prince Ashtyn.”

  The young guard looked uncertain, wondering if the old woman could be telling the truth. “Go there to the guard at the inner courtyard and tell him your tale. If he’ll let you in, you can see Lord Parinez.”

  When it was discovered the queen was not in her bedchamber, Lord Parinez acted without delay.

/>   Just before dawn, a patrol of soldiers rode at breakneck speed out of the courtyard and toward the mountain pass, while Didra was seated at a sturdy table, enjoying a fine slice of lamb and a cup of sweet wine in the palace kitchen.

  Didra reached for the carafe and poured more wine in her cup. Closing her eyes, she savored every drop. And if the lord chamberlain was a man of his word—and she had no reason to think otherwise—she would be taken home in a cart.

  The overhead trees shut out the moon, making it almost impossible to see the narrow path that led through the woods. But Turk knew the way and led Thalia through so many twists and turns she was dizzy. She was also bone-weary and almost thankful when they rode out of the woods, where a stone fortress was obscured by bushes and trees.

  Turk lifted Thalia from her horse. “Have no fear. You will come to no harm,” he assured her.

  Thalia said nothing as he led her into the fortress, past a room that appeared to be the kitchen, then through an armory. She pulled back when she realized he was leading her down a long stairway. He gently urged her forward to a place Thalia could only assume was the dungeon.

  He nodded at a man who unlocked a small cell. “Just so you don’t take it into your head to flee,” Turk assured her.

  Heartsick and frightened, Thalia walked inside, staring up at the small window, where she saw only gray darkness. She stepped lightly over the straw that was strewn on the floor and turned back to stare at Turk.

  What was going to happen to her?

  No one would know where she was being held, so there was faint chance of being rescued. When Turk turned to leave and the guard followed him, she glanced around at the empty cells, where torchlight reflected eerily on the stone walls, and she wanted to call them back.

  Thalia didn’t have to wait long before the sound of footsteps echoed through the dungeon, and she braced herself for what was to come. Staring at the woman who came toward her in a swirl of red silk, Thalia thought she might have once been pretty, even beautiful, but a belligerent nature had carved deep wrinkles on her face.

  “Do you know who I am, girl?” The woman’s screeching voice shattered the silence.

  Thalia dropped the hood of her cloak as the woman unlocked the cell and stepped inside. “I can guess who you are.”

  Lady Vistah stared at Thalia with pure hatred, her mouth compressed in a thin line. “You have cursed my life, caused me years of grief. If it was left to me, I would see you dead, but my son has other ideas.” Thalia watched the woman’s eyes darken. “My son is sometimes misguided.”

  “More than a little misguided, Lady Vistah. Your son is responsible for the deaths of thousands of innocents.”

  The older woman’s mouth twisted with bitterness. “Just because you wear the crown of Bal Forea does not make you a queen,” she spat. “It takes much more than that to hold the throne.”

  “One with a malignant mind like your son will never win the people,” Thalia said angrily.

  Thalia had not expected it, and when the woman delivered the hard blow with her fist, Thalia’s head snapped back from the force of it. Then the woman struck her again, causing her to fall to her knees, and it was with great effort that Thalia shook off the darkness that threatened to consume her.

  With pride driving her, Thalia rose to her feet, ignoring the pain each movement caused. With an angry glare, she met the woman’s cold, cunning eyes. Wiping blood from her mouth onto the back of her hand, Thalia said scornfully, “And it takes more than bars to hold a queen. Do you think I don’t know you have no army left? You have lost. It is time for you to admit this and take the justice the people will demand for you.”

  “Upstart! Impostor! You are like your mother—she also dreamed of the impossible, and you know what happened to her. She died in a fire trying to save you. Little good it did her to run away with her lover.”

  With sudden sadness came knowledge. A scrap of memory of a horrible fire, and a woman trying to save her—it had been her mother. The once-fragmented childhood memory now flooded her mind—her mother shoving her into the arms of her maid, and the maid running and hiding with Thalia in her arms. She knew that she was now staring into the eyes of the woman who had ordered her mother’s death.

  Thalia’s lip was throbbing, and she could tell it was swollen. She blinked back tears of pain and grief. She would not allow this woman to see her cry. Thalia faced her enemy. “It was you who sent Turk to hunt for me in Rome.”

  “Aye, it was me. As soon as I heard of your birth, I decided I must have you under my control. When my son was old enough to understand the significance of controlling you, he sent others to find you. Long have you escaped me, but I have you now!”

  Thalia tore her gaze from Lady Vistah when she heard footsteps on the stairs. With growing fear, she watched as a tall man with piercing blue eyes walked toward her, flanked by Turk. He stood at the bars, looking at her for a long moment before he entered the cell.

  “Mother, why is this woman bleeding?” Sevilin asked in a hard voice.

  “I gave her some of what she deserved,” Lady Vistah said spitefully, moving to slap Thalia once again—but her son caught her wrist and held it firmly.

  “Do not touch her,” he ordered through clenched teeth. “I want no mark on her.” His hard gaze went to Thalia. “Remove your cloak so I can better see what we have here,” he demanded.

  She was trying to push the memory of that horrible night when her mother had died out of her mind, but her anger helped her defy this man. “Nay,” she said with iron-willed stubbornness, “I will not.”

  The man seemed undaunted by her refusal. “I am Lord Sevilin, and this is my mother, Lady Vistah. I am sure you have heard of us.”

  “I have heard both of you mentioned, though nothing good was said of either of you. But let me amend that,” she said, staring at Turk. “Your sycophant here speaks of you with praise and believes anything you tell him. More’s the pity.”

  Turk frowned, and Lord Sevilin smiled. “I like a woman with spirit. Tell me, what did Turk say about me, Majesty?”

  “He said you were handsome.” She looked over his blue eyes, long flowing golden hair and broad shoulders. “You are handsome. ’Tis a pity you are a man without honor, because that makes you repugnant in my eyes.”

  Sevilin’s brows came together in a frown. “For years I have wondered what you look like, and now I will see for myself,” he said, reaching for Thalia, but she quickly drew back until she came up against the wall.

  Sevilin shook his head, then advanced toward her. With an easy smile, he unhooked her woolen cape, and it fell to the floor.

  For a long moment he stared at Thalia, and even laughed when she lifted her head to a royal tilt.

  “I have long dreamed of you,” Lord Sevilin said. “But no dream can do you justice.” His hand moved down her neck to cup her breast. “Sweet and young. I will have all of you before too many days have passed.”

  Thalia thrust his hand away. “I would rather die than have you touch me, snake.”

  His smile was as frightening as his mother’s anger.

  “But you will not die, Majesty, and I shall touch you. You will be my wife—how would you like that?”

  “I have a husband,” she said, glaring at him. “You do not seem a foolish man to me—if you value your life, you will set me free before Ashtyn arrives.”

  “Beautiful and brave. What a pair the two of us will make.”

  “Never!”

  “Strike her for speaking so insultingly,” his mother cried. “Show her the power of your fists!” Lady Vistah gripped the bars. “Strike her down!”

  “Nay, Mother. Hold back your anger. Would you have me bruise such a jewel when I have her where I have always wanted her?”

  “What do you intend to do with her?” Lady Vistah demanded, eyeing Thalia with a jaded gaze. “She’s already wed to the enemy. So he will have to die.”

  “Perhaps.” Sevilin caught Thalia’s face between his hands, bring
ing her into the light. “If she were to become a widow, our plans can still work.”

  “The Destroyer will not be easily killed, or the deed would already have been accomplished,” Turk reminded him. “Have we not tried in the past, only to fail?”

  Thalia studied Sevilin. He had a weak chin and a predatory light in his blue eyes. She saw evil lurking there and shivered. “You cannot win,” she told him.

  He laughed as he took his mother’s hand, leading her out of the cell toward the stairs. “I have already won. What man would not come looking for such a prize?”

  Turk laced his twisted fingers so tightly the knuckles whitened. There was surprising kindness in his gaze when he looked at Thalia. “It will be better for you if you do not resist. I would not like to see you come to harm.”

  “Leave me alone,” Thalia said. “You are nothing but a puppet of that evil man and his twisted mother.”

  Turk studied her face for a moment. “Prince Ashtyn will come for you, and that will be the end of him because he will be falling into a trap.”

  Fear gripped her heart. “You are evil.”

  Turk looked taken aback by her assessment of his character. “Nay, Majesty. I merely follow orders.”

  “I wonder how many men cover their own vice by claiming they are only following orders.” She reached her hand out to him, thinking there might be a shred of decency left in him. “Turk, you protected me when you served my mother. There is something I must tell you, and I hope you will keep my secret. I am with child. Do not let them harm my baby.”

  He walked a few paces toward the stairs and then came back to her. “Put on your cape; it’s damp and cold in the dungeon.” He looked toward the stairs and lowered his voice. “And say nothing more about the child you carry.”

  Thalia watched Turk disappear up the stairs, wondering if he would help her or betray her. Stooping, she retrieved her cape and pulled it about her shoulders.