“You’re insatiable,” he teased, knowing he could never get enough of her. When she sat up, he wanted to take her again seeing her beautiful body. Beautiful because it belonged to her, beautiful because she shared it with him and no one else. He still marveled she chose him, of all the men in her kingdom. Because Leisha could have had any man she wanted, even without the crown she wore.
She felt his need return and cut her eyes over at him. “How many people will we disappoint if we’re late?”
“Too many,” he lamented. “Let me help you get dressed. Behave yourself and I’ll reward you tonight.”
***
Once they arrived at the castle, Zaraki rushed them both upstairs. He needed to change out of clothes that smelled like horses, and Leisha’s maids needed time to dress her and pull her hair up into something more formal.
Danica met them in their apartments with a dark blue silk gown already laid out. The cream-colored damask underskirt peeked out from the slash in the overdress and the colors contrasted well with Leisha’s dark hair and fair skin. The maid’s hands moved deftly, fastening all the buttons running up the back.
As she finished, Pola appeared with a box of brushes and combs. She worked out the knots in Leisha’s hair left from horseback riding and an afternoon spent alone with her husband. Danica brought out a small wooden case filled with tiny gems set in bezels, strung together. Using pins and combs, they pulled Leisha’s hair up and threaded sapphires through it.
Her darling husband emerged from behind his wardrobe, dressed in a simple shirt, dark grey coat and trousers dyed to match. For all his confidence and bravado, dressing in front of her ladies still made him blush, and he still could not bring himself to hire a butler. Leisha never dressed alone—her gowns did not permit it. She found his bashfulness endearing and charming.
“You look beautiful, as always,” he said, watching as Pola fastened the last few strands of her hair up.
***
Together she and Zaraki walked through the halls of Branik and across the Great Hall. Leisha saw Symon standing at the door to one of the chambers that opened on this large space. For most of his career, the older man served her father as butler and confidante. When Leisha became queen, she made him castellan, in charge of staffing and running her castle. Like most of her inner circle, he wore any number of other hats, acting as a senior advisor, counselor, and something like a father. Leisha had always struggled to make close friends, and so she kept the ones she had very close. She adored Symon, with his sparkling blue eyes and grey hair, and counted him as family.
“Happy birthday, my dear girl,” he said, and drew her in for a quick hug. A few years ago, Leisha would never have tolerated such a display, but Zaraki changed everything. “They’re all inside waiting for you.”
“All of them?” she asked.
As Symon opened the door for them, Leisha saw far more people than she expected. Inside, friends, officers from the guard and city leaders from Lida milled around two large tables loaded with food. Banners bearing her hawk and sword seal hung from the second-story balcony, and musicians played in the gallery above the chamber. The last time this many people accepted invitations to gather at Branik, Leisha made Zaraki king.
A small gathering? she sent to her unrepentant husband, who merely grinned and offered his arm again. Once inside, Leisha felt all her hesitation evaporate. Being the center of attention did not bother her and felt as natural as breathing. The reason for the party and banquet did not matter. She swept into the room, blue silk swirling around her.
People jumped to their feet and bowed before someone began clapping. Soon the whole chamber echoed with applause and birthday wishes. Leaning over as they walked around to their spots at the head table, Zaraki whispered in her ear, “See? Birthdays are fun.”
Before taking their seat, Aniska walked up, smiling and handing her a package wrapped in papers, and tied with a red silk ribbon. “Happy birthday, Your Majesty,” she said, sounding very formal, but smiling as she curtsied. For two years, Ani had served as Leisha’s spymaster, managing a network of agents Zaraki built when he held the position. She also gave wicked little gifts best opened in private. This one felt like a book. Knowing Ani, it was a bawdy one.
Behind her came Andelko, in charge of all Leisha’s armies. Tall, dark-haired and bearded, the Lord Constable had been with her as long as Symon and Zaraki. Two years ago, he happily dropped much of the stiff formality that marked their first six years together when Leisha finally opened up to all of them.
Taking her hand, he bowed over it. Under his breath he said, “Highness, I hope you enjoyed your picnic.” Deliberately, he hesitated over the last word and smiled up at her. He knew what one of their trips outside the walls meant, and their escort gossiped.
“Are you blushing again?” Zaraki asked, leaning forward to narrow his eyes at her. “Yes, I think you are. Twice in one day has got to be a record.” He turned to look at his bearded friend. “You’ve managed to embarrass the mighty Leisha Tahaerin, Andelko.”
Leisha spoke suggestions about what each should do to themselves into their minds and both men looked shocked at her vulgarity. She rarely swore.
***
After dinner, servants cleared the tables and pulled them to the edges of the room along with the chairs. The musicians upstairs picked up their performance, playing a lively tune. Grinning broadly, Zaraki held out his hand to her. “Will you dance with me?”
Leisha could dance, but she often needed instructions, as her captor in Embriel never provided lessons. He said they cost too much, and her father did not negotiate for them in her hostage contract. Zaraki, on the other hand, spent his boyhood learning to dance, to allow him to pass as nobility when required. As long as you show me how, she sent to him, trying not to let her embarrassment show.
Two lines of couples formed, as dictated by the song. At the head of the line, Leisha and Zaraki faced each other, with Aniska claiming Andelko and both coming to stand on her right. Guild members, city leaders, captains of the guard all found partners.
Zaraki reached across the space between them and pulled her tightly against him. “This one is fun, you’ll like it. Just do what I do,” he whispered into her ear before flicking his tongue over it.
She gasped and stepped back, eyes wide, knowing he would keep that sort of thing up all night. Then at some signal Leisha could not decipher, Zaraki whirled around and began to move behind the row of men. Struggling to recover, she hitched up her skirts and hastened to catch up, progressing down the line of women. All the other couples clapped in time with the music as they moved.
Reaching the end, Leisha started to relax and enjoy the dance. The glass of wine she had with dinner helped. Her darling husband grinned and took her hands as they rejoined the line, facing each other.
“It’s not so bad, is it?” he asked over the music. Ani and Andelko left the head of the line and moved towards the end. Each time a pair moved down the rows, they all shifted, moving closer to where they began.
When they returned to their starting spots, the music changed. Zaraki reached out and took her hands. “Under and over. As fast as we can,” he called out over the dancers, who began stomping their feet in time with the music. Leisha had no idea what he meant, so she plucked images from his mind and then laughed as she saw Ani and Andelko lift their clasped hands and step apart to form an arch.
Facing each other, she and Zaraki bowed their heads close and skipped under the raised hands. The next couple stood close to one another, hunched over. Zaraki lifted her hands and they moved apart to go over Jan and his wife, Ivanka. Under Eli and his wife. Over Irion and Danica. Together they wove past each couple and when they reached the end of the line, they were both flushed and laughing.
The musicians kept them dancing for hours, and when the party finally broke up, Leisha thought perhaps she could learn to like birthdays. As they wished their last guests goodnight, Zaraki grabbed her hand. “I’m tired of sharing you,”
he said in a low voice, and together they hurried back to their apartments.
Practice
After a late breakfast the next morning, Zaraki kissed his lovely wife on the forehead. “I’m going to go train in the yard,” he said as she settled down at her desk.
He looked delicious in the leathers he used to wear when he spied for her. Leisha glanced at the pile of work in front of her. After spending the day before together, she did not feel ready to be without him. “See you at lunch?” she asked.
“Of course.”
After he left, she sifted through the papers. Petitions, pleas, requests, they never stopped and most were wretchedly mundane. When she first became queen, lords asked for all sort of interesting things—new expansions for their castles, taller walls for towns, help with disputes over fishing traps. Often, she needed to research the requests, look at maps, consider the political ramifications or figure how to tax new building projects. But over time, the disputes lessened as her nobles realized she would not simply give them anything they asked for. The lords began focusing more on improving their lands, rather than building new castles to defend themselves from each other. Often monotonous now, the requests and petitions did not excite her as they once had. Perhaps the kingdom had reached a point where clerks could handle some of these things.
Before becoming queen, Leisha had imagined the sort of ruler she wanted to be and made meticulous plans to reform her kingdom. Once she arrived in Lida and placed the crown on her own head, she began putting them into action. After the turmoil and upheaval that marked the beginning of her reign, finally she could look around and see order emerging out of the chaos that had stained the Tahaerin nobility for three centuries. Now, it seemed, she would finally benefit from all the work and effort she put into them.
Pushing aside the carefully worded letters and appeals, she went downstairs to do something she rarely made time for. She exited through the little wicket gate and followed the path around to the side of the castle facing north. Here, she found city guards and castle soldiers standing together around the edge of the training circle. When they saw her approaching, they parted to make room, and she felt their surprise swirling in the air around her.
Zaraki and the others were just finishing their warmup. When he turned to talk to one of the guard, he saw her and waved.
Do you mind if I watch? Leisha asked.
He shook his head, knowing as long as she sat in his mind reading his thoughts, she could hear the response to her question. Of course not. You can watch me win, he said, grinning at her. Even though he was king and could order men to fight his battles for him, Zaraki’s pride would not allow him to lose all the skills learned as a boy.
Jan volunteered to go first, and both men squared off against each other with the thin-bladed thrusting daggers Zaraki favored. They each stood with one foot in front of the other, then saluted. As soon as he settled back into his stance, Jan moved, surging forward and slashing at head height, right to left.
Ducking under the cut, Zaraki shifted his weight to his left foot and came up with Jan’s body still twisted to the right. He pulled back his arm and jabbed his knife towards the other man’s face, forcing Jan to lean back out of the way and retreat.
Leisha gasped and felt foolish, knowing the blades had no edge and had blunted tips. Still, watching the dance was thrilling. She reached out to listen to the thoughts of the two opponents and realized she could see what they intended to do an instant before the motion occurred. It fascinated her as she watched the two men orbiting around each other, waiting for an opening.
Suddenly, Jan lunged, stabbing low and forward with his right hand. With his body still turned in towards his opponent, Zaraki seemed poised to lose the point. But instead, his left hand struck out, hitting Jan’s wrist and knocking his thrust out and down. At the same time, and lightning quick, Leisha saw Zaraki’s right hand stab upward, tapping Jan in the side.
Aniska appeared, dressed in tight trousers, her red hair braided and bound back. She looked ready to spar with the others. “Good morning, Your Highness,” she said brightly. “Come to watch us practice?”
“Yes, and right now I’m struggling to understand why I don’t come more often,” Leisha said, nodding towards Zaraki. Her gorgeous, golden-haired lover. Stripped to the waist and sweating, he strode back into the training circle to face his next opponent—Irion this time, and with daggers again.
The two men circled one another as Aniska watched, making notes and seeing if either had added anything new to their repertoire. She had faced and beaten both men before. Growing up together in Ostrava, she and Zaraki had faced each other daily in the practice ring. As one of the castle guards, Irion usually preferred swords and maces, but he asked her to train him in small blades. He struggled to adjust but proved to be a quick student.
Irion tried a few lunges, the ones he last learned. Aniska could see improvement as he moved through the forms she had taught him, testing Zaraki and attempting to ferret out a weakness. The next time she fought him, she would need to remember that, because like Zaraki, her pride would not tolerate a soldier beating her. Their training and upbringing meant they were far too good for that. Ani watched Irion becoming restless and sloppy when he could not connect—a typical mistake for someone just learning.
She watched as Zaraki thrust with his dagger and then retreated towards Irion’s left several times. This drew the boy further to his weak side, and Ani could see this would be over in no time. Flustered, Irion tried to recover by reversing his grip on the knife, forgetting he held a thrusting weapon with no edge. He rushed in, closing the distance to slash and score a point, but Zaraki’s left hand closed on his wrist.
Because stilettos had no sharp edges, Zaraki could use his forearm, pressing the dagger towards where Irion’s fingers met his palm, the weakest point of his grip. The blade clattered to the ground.
He’s still magnificent, Aniska thought. He was married and her employer, but she could enjoy looking.
“He is,” Leisha agreed, smiling. When she felt the other woman’s embarrassment at being caught out, she looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, Ani. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I don’t mind, though.” She started to say she knew the two of them had briefly been lovers before he came to Lida and it never bothered her. However, she had learned it once when pillaging Zaraki’s memories, and she realized how intrusive Aniska might find it, knowing she had seen their lovemaking in his mind.
After two years living and working in the castle, Aniska had grown used to the way Leisha occasionally picked thoughts out of the air. She laughed and waved her hands. “No, my lady. Truly, it’s nothing. You’re very lucky.”
They turned to watch as another pair squared off against one another. Even though they practiced with dull blades, Leisha saw bruises and welts where they struck one another. She had seen the same on Zaraki before, and it bothered her she knew so little about something he devoted so much time to. Her library held manuals on different fighting styles, and she made a note to get some to read.
“No one’s afraid to spar with him, even though he’s king?” Leisha asked, thinking no one would ever be so bold with her. Of course, he grew up a commoner, where she grew up the heir apparent to an entire kingdom, surrounded by nannies and maids and servants of all stripes.
“Well, the etiquette in the yard is a bit different. You’ll notice no one stands on much ceremony here. But many of them have been sparring with him for years. He’s always done this. Some of them do hold back now, but not me,” Ani said, giving Leisha a wicked grin.
When the next man yielded, she raised her voice. “Next!”
Zaraki saw who called out and laughed. “I’ve no interest in losing to you in front of my wife.” Men around the circle hooted and catcalled, hurling insults.
Ani pulled her tunic over her head. Underneath, she wore a tight leather top, and Leisha thought she looked rather magnificent as well. “Oh, come now. A challenge is given. Rapie
rs or daggers, friend?”
Smiling, he took one of the dulled blades from a rack and tossed her another. “I won’t hand you a win by choosing daggers, Ani. I’m no fool.” He had no hope against her with small blades. However, with rapiers he stood a fair chance.
Aniska rolled her shoulders and swung her arms. “Let’s make this more interesting for everyone. Rapier and dagger.”
“Fine, fine,” he said, laughing. Irion handed them both practice blades and stepped out of the ring. “Three points or five?”
“Three. We don’t want to take forever and bore everyone.” Taking a deep breath, Aniska settled into her stance, weight on her back foot. For thirteen years, the two of them had grown up together and trained together. They knew each other’s fighting styles intimately. People gathered from all around the courtyard, excited to watch two Ostravan spies face one another.
Zaraki saluted and lunged forward immediately, arm straight, point aimed at her chest. His thrust was halfhearted, meant to throw Aniska off balance, and he danced back.
She knew this trick, though usually he saved it for later. Once off balanced, he hoped to force his opponent’s sword to the outside and try to slash their wrist for a disarm and a cheap point.
Stepping back with her right foot, Aniska turned her body aside so his thrust missed. “Please,” she taunted. “Something new?”
“It’s worked before,” he reminded her, stepping back and recovering his stance, not surprised he missed. Speed defined Aniska’s fighting style. Opponents usually underestimated her because of her sex and small size. Those that did so discovered their mistakes quickly. Here in the yard, she routinely beat seasoned fighters of all types.
Aniska laughed. “You bastard,” she said, and then stepped forward to beat against his blade, pushing it aside with her own.
As Dragons from Sleep (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 2) Page 2