Oathbound: The Emperor's Conscience, Book 2

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Oathbound: The Emperor's Conscience, Book 2 Page 18

by Michael Combs


  “Thank you, Brother,” Balinar said.

  I bowed to the good Brother and left. I had one more stop to make before I took my rest. I was grateful for the change in schedule over the last few days. I could reset my sleep. I would need to be alert tomorrow, more than any other time.

  But first, the jeweler. I had a Consort to catch.

  Dancing with Dragons

  It was early evening when I came down the steps and into the main salon. I had slept like the dead and was thankful none had tried to wake me. The staff was just arriving, and a few of the girls mingled and talked before they went to get ready for their shift. I approached Shani and Nan at the bar.

  “Wow, you look amazing.” Shani said. Nan gave me a critical once-over and nodded her approval as well.

  “I had to pick some things up for tonight and I saw this and had to have it for you,” I said as I handed Shani a silk bag.

  She squealed and opened it, withdrawing a long wire, coiled like a spring and threaded with beads, precious stones, and feathers. I turned Shani around and pulled the gold nibbed quill from her hair, which fell down her back.

  “I worked hard on that,” she said.

  “You will have to make do with this,” I said as I uncoiled the wire, fitted the quill to the device, then gathered up her hair. I threaded the wire through her hair, and as I wrapped it around, I gave the wire a twist just as the jeweler had shown me. When it was complete, her hair coiled into a beautiful bun at the base of her head, trailed by sparkling gemstones, beads, and the gold-nibbed quill that tickled her shoulder blades.

  “Oh Evan,” she sighed, rushing to a mirror behind the bar. “It’s beautiful.”

  “What did you get for the Mata?” Nan asked. She was always trying to spoil my fun.

  Shani was busy admiring the article in the mirror, however, and didn’t seem to heed Nan’s question. “Nothing so exciting,” I said. “But it is certain to make an impression.”

  Just then a man entered the salon wearing the parade uniform of the Jerean Guard. He cleared his throat.

  “Master Evanar Hostric. My Mistress, the Mata, requires your presence. A carriage awaits.”

  “Good luck, boy,” Nan said.

  I exited The Velvet Pearl to find four magnificent horses. The gilded livery was inlaid with ornate designs, as was the elegantly detailed carriage they drew with well-deserved pride.

  The guard opened the door and held it, allowing me to board. The Mata smiled at my appearance and slid to one side so that I could join her on the cushioned bench.

  “Aren’t you dressed to impress,” the Mata said.

  “The only one I need to impress is you.” I lunged for the gorgeous woman and the guard shut the door, wisely minding his own business.

  The most dangerous woman in the city, perhaps in the country, giggled and tried to back away only to be pinned in the carriage's corner as it lurched. I kissed her deeply, my hands roaming her body, searching for a way inside her wardrobe. With what she wore, it wasn’t difficult.

  She pushed me away. Her mouth was inflamed and her cheeks flushed from the kiss. “Calm yourself, my pet,” she said. “I have to maintain a certain image.”

  I pulled away and took my seat, my fingers still playing up her exposed leg. “You are more attractive with your hair a mess and your neck red from my teeth.”

  “You may think so, but the court would likely disagree,” she said.

  “I dare them to speak a word out of turn.”

  “You would.”

  She leaned against me.

  “I have something for you,” I said and produced a small silk bag.

  “Ooh, a gift.” Her eyes narrowed. “What are you up to, Evanar?”

  “Only this.” I withdrew a long chain of gold. It was thin and exquisitely made, very delicate and ornate in its simplicity. It held tiny gems, each cut exactly the same, and ended in hooks with thin wire springs. I reached around the woman next to me and then threaded the delicate chain around her waist and through the gold hoop that pierced the top of her navel, attaching the chain to itself with the spring latch.

  “Easy there, I’m still tender from when you discovered that,” she said.

  “And still so much yet to discover.”

  “You are making quite a statement, given the company that will be present tonight. Why should I allow it?”

  “Because the statement,” I said, holding out the other end, “is yours to make. I am just making my intentions clear.”

  She grinned devilishly and took the catch from my hands. “I don’t know if you are aware of what you are doing, but I like it.”

  “I hoped you would.” I smiled, and we teased and tickled our way to the Palace, the guards and driver certain their mistress had lost her mind.

  Perhaps she had. Maybe we both had. By fastening the chain to my collar, she had accepted me as her Consort. That would bring about some significant changes in our relationship. I would have to tell Nan that I was ‘off the menu.’ I couldn’t imagine anyone coming into The Pearl and making an appointment with the Mata’s Consort once word got out. After tonight, word would definitely get out.

  The carriage door opened, and I descended, dressed in my colors. I wore a black coat with ancient Arulean script embroidered in silver thread at the lapels. It fit tight over a white shirt, open at the neck, and black trousers with high leather boots. Around my neck was a silver band with a ring at the hollow of my throat. From that ring trailed the delicate, bejeweled chain that reached far into the carriage. I held out my hand and slender fingers grasped mine.

  Galateia stepped from the carriage wearing a wide strip of silver cloth that went around her neck and crossed to cover her breasts, then tied at the back in a halter. It was trimmed with a fringe of chains that swayed as she walked and left her middle bare. She wore a handkerchief skirt that was dangerously short. I took up the slack in the long chain and we walked, hand-on-arm, through the Palace doors, our heads high.

  The main ballroom was already bustling. Several groups had formed according to their rank within the court. The Mata had explained that it would be so. Our group would be the closest to the raised dais that dominated the end of the ballroom. The Mata made small talk as we navigated the busy hall. I was reminded again of how different Trular was from Arul. The men were dressed similarly, but for local colors and styles, as their counterparts in the empire. The ladies, on the other hand, wore dresses that often fell short of the knee, or were otherwise tantalizing in their cut. I wondered at the scandal that would arise if these fashions were to appear in the Imperial Court. As far as I was concerned, it was just one more reason to love this kingdom.

  All eyes were drawn to the chain that connected the Mata to me. Some smiled knowingly and nodded in approval. Others shied away from me. I wondered if it was to not incur the wrath of the woman it bound me to, or whether they feared the man who could win such a bond to the Mata. From what I had learned, the device was rarely worn. Primarily it would be seen at the announcement of the bond, but after, only on formal occasions such as this.

  That the chain was attached to my neck indicated the Mata put it there, and I allowed it. This would be no surprise to anyone. The Mata was gorgeous and powerful. Any man would be a fool to not accept such an arrangement. That it strung to her waist told another story, and none knew quite what to make of that. Shani explained it was an old tradition and rarely done anymore. If the chain strung from her wrist to my neck, it would mean that she claimed me. I would have no rights in the relationship and it would essentially make me her plaything. That just wouldn’t do. The chain clasped to my throat established her claim to me, all of me. The end that wrapped around her waist indicated that she acknowledged me as her equal in our relationship, as equal as it could be...and we had just made it public.

  We broke through the courtiers and approached a small group of people seated just to the right of the dais. There were three people gathered around a small table that held snacks and drink
s. Only one was seated. The Jardir. He wore a crisp, white military uniform which held small medals pinned to his left breast. Behind him stood a young woman dressed in an elegant sage-colored gown. Her long honey-blonde hair was bound with a delicate gold net and spilled over one shoulder and she had a chain similar to mine at her neck that ran to the Jardir’s wrist. A man in the armor and crest of the Jerean Guard stood behind an empty chair opposite the seated man. Malcius.

  He looked at me, then my neck. His eyes followed the chain to the Mata’s waist then he looked at me again. I winked at him. His eyes snapped forward, and he vigilantly scanned the room for threats.

  The Jardir rose and kissed the Mata on either cheek. I assumed it was the Jardir, for I could think of no man, other than myself, brazen enough to do such a thing but her husband. She sat in the empty chair.

  “My dear, you look ravishing.” He took in her attire and noticed the gold chain. “I see you have chosen some interesting jewelry.” His brows rose as he took the two of us in. “Is this cause for announcements?”

  “It is, husband.” The Mata said with a haughty smile.

  The Jardir’s eyes narrowed at me. If he was going to take offense at my bedroom acrobatics with his wife, this was the place to do it. Id he challenged me to a duel, I would have to fight. That could prove detrimental to my plans. I reminded myself that this was Trular, not Arul. These people and their customs differed from my own. I just hoped my lessons with Nan and Shani Nan were as accurate as they asserted.

  “Good. It is about time you found someone your equal.” Galateia rolled her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. You would accept nothing less than a strong, capable man as your Consort.” He looked me over, assessing me as he would one of his troops. “You have the look of a fighting man about you. Don’t deny it, it is plain to those trained to look. See me regarding a commission in the army. I think you have the makings of a fine officer.”

  He surprised me. I had heard that the Jardir was a military man, but I half expected some fop with a commission if the Mata could dominate their marriage as my intelligence had indicated. Perhaps their relationship wasn’t as unequal as we thought. Unhappy? Perhaps. It was certainly turbulent if the reports were even half true. Now I was more curious about him than ever. I hadn’t expected the gruff commander that stood before me. He was plain and direct, like any good military man. I understood that.

  “A commission?” I shook my head. “I don’t think so, my Jardir. I believe I am not well suited for military life.” “Besides,” I continued, “I find I have my hands full as it is. I couldn’t possibly take on additional responsibilities. I am more than satisfied with my current position. As for being her equal, there are few who would dare claim that for themselves,” I said, “and I’d wager there are none who truly are.” I smiled at Galateia and she returned it with grace.

  The Jardir eyed me for a moment and nodded. “You make my life much easier, I tell you, Evanar. May I call you Evanar?”

  “Please, call me Evan.”

  “Well Evan, I don’t know what it is you do, but I pray you keep doing it. For the last week, my wife has been almost pleasant.”

  I gave a slight bow of appreciation. “It will be my pleasure.”

  Just then a group filed out onto the dais and began setting out chairs and instruments far to one side. A company of musicians joined and began playing softly in the background. While the Jardir and I were speaking, they brought another chair to our table, and I took my place beside the Mata and arrested a drink from a passing serving girl.

  After a few moments, the band reached a crescendo, then the music changed. Everyone stood, and from behind the curtains, strode the man I was here to see. I am not talking about here at this party to see, but here in this kingdom to see. It was the Jerean Prince, Kaden Rais. He was richly appointed in satin robes of royal blue. He wore a thin circlet with a large blue diamond in the center of his forehead, and a heavy gold chain hung about his neck.

  Behind him followed three lovely young women. The first to emerge was a blonde with thick, curly hair that fell down her back. She wore a slender turquoise dress. The neckline was cut low and barely contained her. The next was a petite girl with red hair and freckles that dusted all of her exposed skin. She wore a white toga and her hair was done in numerous braids that fell about her shoulders and down her back. The last was far from the least. She wore a silky indigo sarong and her long black hair covered her pale shoulders. They all moved with the predatory grace of a well-trained fighter.

  “Who is that?” I whispered in the Mata’s ear.

  “The Sisters,” she replied, just as quietly. “The Prince’s personal guard. Some say he adopted them, some say they are his lovers. There are none who do not fear them. It is said that he sends them to dispose of those who displease him.” The Mata suddenly looked at me with a worried expression. “Oh, please do not displease him, my pet. I would hate to lose you now.”

  I patted her arm to comfort her, but my instincts flared to life as the blonde set her sights on me and grinned a broad, full-toothed grin. The Prince and the remaining sisters dispersed into the crowd to mingle.

  “Don’t be rude,” The Mata hissed under her breath as the young lady strode straight up to us.

  “Me? Rude?” I heard the Mata sigh beside me.

  “Greetings, Lad—” The Jardir began. He was abruptly cut off by a hand the young woman raised.

  “Greetings, Jardir,” she said automatically. “A pleasure to see you, but you,” she poked a finger into my chest. I looked at the digit and followed a slender, tone arm to take in the owner. “I don’t know you. What is your name?”

  I felt the Mata stiffen as she squeezed my hand. She knew this was a delicate subject with me. She and I had discussed this at great length, and she had not come away the victor.

  “I generally get paid for such information,” I said. “But for a bargain, I will make an exception. I offer a trade. A name for a name, Lady—” I let the last linger.

  “Tessa.”

  “My Lady Tessa, allow me to introduce myself. I am Evanar Hostric. It is my honor to make your acquaintance.” I performed a courtly bow.

  “When I first saw you, my instincts told me you were dangerous.” Her eyes played along the thin golden chain that ran between the Mata’s waist and my throat. “I see now that I was mistaken.”

  The band began playing louder. It was a call to dance. This was a ball, after all.

  “It is a shame you are all tied up. I would so enjoy a turn about the floor with one such as you.” Tessa sighed dramatically, the motion making a wonder of her dress. “Alas, it is not to be.”

  The Mata turned to me, “Evan, you should dance with the Lady. It would be rude not to.”

  I stroked the Mata’s face. “Are you certain? I wouldn’t wish to dishonor you. It is for you that I am here.”

  “Nonsense,” she said and unclasped my chain. “You can just make it up to me after.”

  She started to sit when I caught her hand. “Oh no you don’t,” I said, retrieving my end of the chain. Nice try.”

  I thrust the golden latch into the hand of the guard that stood at the Mata’s back. He looked at it, then me, in abject horror.

  “Don’t drop this,” I said with absolute sincerity. “If you do, she will be on her own. Who knows what manner of mischief she could get up to?” I looked down into Galateia’s beautiful face. “Behave, lover. I won’t be far.” I stroked her cheek, and she leaned into my hand.

  I turned and offered my hand to my challenger. “Shall we?”

  Tessa smiled in satisfaction and gave me her hand. I bent to kiss it.

  When her pale fingers touched mine, I nearly swallowed my tongue. On the web, between her right thumb and forefinger, was a small mole. To anyone else, it could have been dismissed as merely some defect of birth. To me, however, it was a lightning strike.

  I led her to the dance floor. Several other couples twirled and capered around one another.
Each had their own reasons for being here. Some were couples. Some were lovers. I noticed one pair that danced very close together, and I was certain that I knew the man. He was one of Gorge’s frequent appointments. He was dancing with a lovely woman who I knew was not his type, or at least not his only type. I pretended not to notice. Such were the rules of a courtesan. He made eye contact with me and the look of fear on his face told me all I needed to see. My eyes glided past as though I hadn’t noticed.

  I led the lithe blond in the too-tight dress through a few initial turns of the dance. I held her at arm’s length as we turned and spun. Then I twirled her toward me and held her around the waist as I whispered in her ear, “Greetings Merey, your mother sends her regards.”

  She stumbled, but I swung her around again and sent her into a wide, sweeping arc and eventually landing with her back against my chest. I held her close.

  “Who—”

  “Keep dancing,” I said. “It is best none here realize our conversation.”

  We spun and her momentum carried her away again, only to tuck in tight a moment later. I played my part and looked longingly into her crystal blue eyes. “Your mother worries for you. She asked me to seek you out.”

  Her eyes filled with fear and suspicion as I twirled her away again, holding my arm above her as she spun. I asserted myself and pulled her to me; her back to my chest once again and my hand around her waist.

  “Who are you?” she whispered.

  “I have come to take you home, Duchess.” It was a misnomer, as her mother was still duchess. She would know that, but it served to prove that I knew who she was. I saw her eyes flick toward the dais.

  “But what about…him?”

  I flung her out again. I released her hand and danced around her, playing my part to admire her beauty as the dance demanded. It wasn’t an onerous task. I also looked at the dais. The Prince was engaged with another noble from his court and seemed to pay us no mind.

 

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