by Jean Winter
Urgent whispers began to float up from the arena floor.
“Are you okay?” Maehan said, taking Lyra's hand to lead her back to her former seat.
“Um … I think so.” It took Lyra's rattled brain a few seconds to stabilize. She saw Hundt following the other women toward the stage and the people on the floor slowly returning to their own business. “But Maehan, are you okay?”
“Little Tiger, you should no' have done that.”
“And let him knock you to the ground?” Lyra retorted. “You could have broken something!”
“Lyra, you are too kind for your own good.” Taking an assessment of Lyra's appearance, the Keeper spotted a small scuff mark at Lyra's hip where she had fallen.
“No, no, no!” Lyra wailed quietly, “Maehan, I'm so sorry.” She quickly pulled off a glove to try wiping it away. “I'm so sorry!”
“Oh, never you mind that. It is nothing a good dressmaker canno' clean up good as new again.” Maehan gently smoothed Lyra's skirt folds into a more natural lay.
“That man,” Lyra mumbled. “Would he really buy me out of spite?” A shiver passed through her.
“There is no telling what he will do. The Malig'ahnt family is very rich. Very powerful.”
“But you said khari'na are expensive, even for the rich.”
Maehan's eyes turned cool. “There are the rich, the very rich, and then there is the family Malig'ahnt. I know for a fact that that young lord has already purchased two khari'na in the last several years and I fear the wealth he possesses would allow him to purchase five more if he cared to.”
Lyra's pulse fluttered, growing erratic. “I … that's it then. I'm done for.” Oh God! Is this Thy will?
Through the numbing fear, a sudden strange urge—a pull—came from the arena floor. It wanted her attention—
“Lyra, look at me,” Maehan said. The urge left. “All is no' lost. I think you made a good impression earlier with many o' the other gentlemen. If Lord Malig'ahnt really means to bid on you, he is probably counting on getting you cheap.”
“Well, I am too! No one else is going to want me after what just I just did.”
The old Keeper sat down beside her. “Lyra, my child, Serpahn Malig'ahnt has a well-deserved reputation for being dishonest and violent. I would no' be surprised if many o' the other lords quite enjoyed watching you knock him off his pedestal.” She chanced to glance toward the arena floor. “Besides,” she added through an emerging grin, “it looks like you still have at least one admirer.”
Following her gaze, Lyra made out the figure of a tall, fair-haired gentleman in a black swash tunic—a gentleman she did not recall conversing with earlier, but a lord with mesmerizing eyes who felt so familiar somehow that Lyra almost didn't notice how nicely his build filled out his suit. His bow sash beneath his short trimmed beard—like his wind tousled hair—was slightly askew, and his unbuttoned waistcoat exposed a rather pell-mell tucking job of a pastel dress shirt that covered an otherwise trim middle. Oddly enough, he looked out of breath.
The man was studying her across the twenty-five feet that separated them. Her. Not her gown, nor her bust, nor the carefully decorated khari'na doll into which she had been plucked, painted, and pinned, but her. Their eyes locked and he offered a small, humble nod, the look on his face … like he wanted her to know something. Understand something.
The gentleman's charmingly disheveled appearance alone induced a grin out of Lyra—in spite of everything—and she nodded back, amused. Then his lips parted into a dazzling, relieved smile that, paired with the light eyes framed by dark lashes, caught Lyra off guard. Her stomach flip flopped.
Oh, my goodness! Where had that come from?
Then it finally hit her—like a bowl of ice water thrown in her face.
Great God Almighty! The man from the bookstore!
The lights over the arena blacked out, drowning the strange Bansool laborer—no, lord—and everything around him in a lake of inky shadow.
Auction time.
CHAPTER 10
Kade and Sal held on for dear life as the taxi careened down the road. The threshers' galloping over the rutted, well-traveled roadway had Kade's teeth rattling. A little bumpy?
Sal yelled over the pounding of swift, padded feet and crashing wheels, “Ready to rethink that murodium tracking investment yet?”
“Shut up, Sal!” Kade shouted back.
His friend laughed.
At least they had made good time. They had fifteen more minutes according to Kade's watch, and they were already passing the puffing smokestacks of Caldreen City's factories. The heavy snuffling and snorts of the thresher pair as their lungs fought for air were getting more desperate, however. The animals had obeyed their master's urging admirably, but were now totally spent. Kade thought he should probably get Sullee's attention. Tell him to slow down.
Then the taxi suddenly decelerated of its own accord. City traffic on the road ahead. Kade's gums and conscience were grateful, but a hand jutted into his pocket wrapping tightly round his coin, as if the action could do something useful, like make time go slower.
Several minutes later, they rolled into the inner city circle and Kade got a toothy grin from his companion. “Brother, it seems I am going to get you there in time after all. Do I no' always take care o' my friends? You may express your gratitude by offering to pay for a few extra drinks later over dinner.”
The carriage suddenly halted. A look out the window revealed a completely congested road. O' course.
“How much farther, Mr. Sullee?”
“Only about six or seven more blocks to go, my lord.”
Kade got out and climbed up to Sullee's seat for a look around. The taxi began to move again, but at a dawdle bug's pace. Sal's head poked out. “Can you see it?”
“No' quite.”
Living as far out in the country as they did, and usually paying a driver to take them where they needed to go, the Lords J'Kor and Salkin (Sal) Mejhisk were not as well acquainted with the city main as they would have liked. Agitated, Kade clambered to higher ground: the carriage roof. He squinted down the road. Ah, there it was. The shining metal dome marking the city center rose up from sprawling businesses to overlook everything within Caldreen's fortress-like ring of skyscrapers.
“I see it now. But at this pace, it will be another half hour.” Kade growled and ran hands through windblown hair. Curse the travel gods! It was just his luck! He chuckled darkly, “Even if we traveled on foot, we would have to run for it.” (Sigh.) At least they will only miss the first several of the lineup.
A look down at Sal showed his mouth spread into his signature smirk and his eyes flashing that familiar glint.
“Really?” Kade grinned.
“Excuse me, miss!”
“Sorry, coming through!”
“Oof! Forgive me, my lady,” Kade apologized as he sprinted past the woman he had just accidentally jostled.
“Watcha there! A thousand apologies.”
Thump! “So sorry, my lord! Ooo …”
Under the umbrella of a patio dining table in front of a fashionable little restaurant, Kade halted, hurriedly pulling out a handkerchief to begin dabbing at a splotch of deep red wine he had just caused a lord to spill on his wife's bust. Kade chuckled in embarrassment. “Well, that is a beautiful color on her, at least. And it matches her … er, oh, never mind.” He dodged an angry grab from the scowling husband and continued his headlong rush, leaving his hankie in brazen festoonery upon the lady's bosom.
They bounded up the Coliseum's front steps, suffering brief detainment at the entrance to pay event fees, and were soon striding briskly toward the heart of the building. To the Caldreen'n banner hanging above the sculpted arch leading into the arena, each man offered quick salute with left hand clasped on right shoulder, the crook of the elbow placed over the heart. May Caldreen ever reign supreme. The national motto rang through Kade's head, ingrained long ago from early school days.
A clock mounted ne
xt to the flag read six minutes to fifteen o'. They actually made it! No time to socialize, but at least he was here.
It took Kade several seconds to adjust to the dim lighting, to see that the khari'na were still in their places on the first level spectator seating. Good.
Still breathing hard, Sal laughed, “That was a bit o' good fun there now, 'eh, brother?”
“Aye,” Kade wheezed in agreement, but the throbbing stitch in his side said otherwise. He had not run that hard for that long in a long time. And in his dress shoes! At least the cool, damp weather had saved him from sweating very much.
“How about I find us a table while you take a quick walk around before they all move?”
“Sure.” Kade's eyes drank in the menagerie of enticingly clad women before him, all lined up for the social hour, draped in delicious finery, and perfectly composed from head to toe to capture a man's attention. But where to start? He didn't have time for a close look at all of them. Hastily tucking his dress shirt back in, he took a few steps.
A particularly striking khar with an absolutely gorgeous complexion and midnight black hair done in tight ringlets to his left caught his attention. Her bright pink gown plunged severely from her neckline, trailing black feathers the whole length down. Her figure: tall with nice curves in all the right places. She was engaged in intimate conversation with an interested lord. The corners of her deep, red lips curled up for him as she drew him closer, snaking purposeful fingers down his front.
Beautiful, sexy … but too young. Way too young and too …
Kade pictured her sitting in his great room with his children. No. And he moved on to the next khar down the line—who was entirely blocked by two gentlemen bristling at each other in animated debate. He caught a flash of brunette and snippets of a silvery gown that shimmered softly in the low lights.
“Why, Lord J'Kor! I have no' had the pleasure o' seeing you in the society circles o' late. Where in Geniven's secret lands have you been hiding yourself?”
A very tall, long-faced gentleman with ears straining to leave the surface of his head approached with a smile.
“Lord Ablimahn,” Kade responded in surprise. He clasped a hand on his acquaintance's shoulder in greeting. “How nice to see you again. I know it has been a while.”
Ablimahn returned the gesture. “Are you here for socializing today?”
“Well, actually, I am here to buy.” Why did he suddenly feel sheepish?
Ablimahn blinked in surprise. “Is that so? I would no' have pegged you for the type.” Then he quickly shook his head. “Well no matter, er, have you seen anything you like?”
“Lord Mejhisk and I just arrived,” Kade explained, glancing toward the concealed brunette again. “We had a bit o' trouble—” One of the gentlemen shifted and the khari'na in the softly sparkling gown passed within full view. Kade completely forgot what he was about to say.
Bloody whorlocks! It was her!
She smiled coyly at her two suitors, her shining hair swept into an elegant, braided twist with a few long, wavy strands left undone to romantically frame her glowing face. Folds of airy fabric floated against graceful shoulders to lay loosely upon her breast. From there, the bodice gathered around her narrow waist in a curvaceous hug only to flare out long and dramatic all the way to the floor.
She looked like some ethereal fay spirit, ready to lift off the floor and ascend to the heavens on gossamer wings at any moment. But it was … her.
“Er, trouble? Did you say?” Lord Ablimahn prompted.
“R,” Kade murmured, remembering their very short and extremely awkward first encounter.
“I beg your pardon?”
A grin tugged at Kade's lips. “The missing R, Xavilar.” He finally turned to his friend again and patted him jauntily on the chest. “Please excuse me. I have someone to properly meet.”
“Gentlemen, the event is about to begin. Please take your seats,” the official voice announced.
With haste, Kade started making his way through mingling bodies toward the woman. She was khari'na! How was that possible? He watched her flirtatiously allow her hand to be kissed as the pair of lords departed. But suddenly, her shoulders slumped and she breathed out wearily, like she was carrying the weight of the world on them. Kade halted.
Her eyes looked so sad. And frightened. A very old Keeper spoke to her, consoling her, perhaps. Then another figure strolled into the scene. Unfortunately, it was a figure Kade recognized.
Malig'ahnt, you snake, what are you up to?
Just as he feared, Malig'ahnt soon raised an arm to shove the bowed Keeper out of the way and Kade lunged forward in readiness to come to the woman's aid—until … the arm paused in mid-air. The khari'na had blocked the swing!
Her enchanting eyes that, only a moment ago, expressed such despondence now burned up at Serpahn in a righteous indignation and Kade watched mesmerized at the woman's response to Malig'ahnt's next attempted strike. Her reflexes were fluid and precise. Fine muscles in her arms and shoulders revealed an unusual athleticism that her gown's light fibers could not hide.
Then suddenly she was on the ground. Like lightning she struck out with a delicately shod foot aimed precisely for Serpahn's groin who got yanked out of reach in the nick of time by an extremely large—and agile—security guard. The sharp heel and the leg to which it was attached remained suspended in the air, poised for a few seconds, before it was finally brought down.
“Wow,” Kade whispered, not readily aware how fast his heart was beating.
The arena floor became engulfed in absolute silence. It was easy to hear Malig'ahnt's outraged insistence for “justice.” A tense conversation developed between the lord and guard while the khar was helped to her feet and led by the Keeper to sit down.
Just great! There was no way he would be allowed to speak to her now, and it would be no use looking at any of the other woman. Surely no one else was nearly as interesting.
Kade stood alone on the floor, quietly flexing his fingers in frustration as Malig'ahnt was eventually “enticed” to stalk away. Slowly, people began to return to their business. Kade watched the two women whisper to each other, the younger's expression soon turning even more frightened and despondent than before. She had good reason. Malig'ahnt was not the kind to let public humiliation go unavenged—deserving though it was.
Suddenly Kade began to wonder if it really could be the same woman from the bookstore. Just how many layers of personality could one female possess? Scholar, flirt, seductress, victim, warrior. Warrior. The defensive reflexes were certainly the same.
“Look at me and recognize me,” he willed under his breath. “Then I will know.”
A long half a minute passed before the Keeper turned her head and noticed him standing there. Kade grimaced. It seemed his manly vibes were still working, they were just working on the wrong woman.
Then she finally looked at him, too, and he quickly nodded dumbly in greeting.
You idiot. Do something more charming!
Kade became acutely aware, once again, that he probably was not looking his best. It flustered him to feel such diffidence before a woman. He was not naive. He was well aware that most women found him attractive. Usually he was the one making them feel flighty. She was the lowly merchandise, for Henna's sake!
So why did he feel like an awkward, prepubescent school boy under the schoolmaster's knowing eye? The sapient, exquisitely beautiful schoolmaster.
As if indeed she did see him in just that way, she grinned, humored, tipping her head in response. Well, it was a start. He was just relieved to get a smile. Now he could go talk to her!
Eagerly, Kade started forward—but then her expression suddenly changed into one of undeniable recognition. It was the same woman! He knew it! Only, her look of shock and alarm that came with that recognition told Kade she wasn't necessarily happy to see him again. The floor suddenly went dark.
Blast!
“Brother, did you see that scrumptious little tart in ac
tion?” Sal chortled as he came upon Kade. “What I would give to feel that bit o' firmness next to me under the covers for a night!”
Kade knew she couldn't see him anymore though she continued to peer into the darkness, concern shadowing her brow. He sighed. She must think he was stalking her.
“I know that one, Sal.” He watched the Keeper gently lead her toward the stage.
“What, what? That vixen-ish delight? And just what other dirty little secrets have you acquired during your long silence o' these last several days?”
“None,” Kade retorted. “I just met her briefly a couple days ago in Bansool—by accident. And I do no' think she liked me very much.” He shook his head. “I had no idea she would be here. I had no idea she was—”
“Here now. I know that tone, mate. Is she the one on which you have set your sights?” Sal laughed incredulously. “You are joking, right?” Kade didn't smile, and Sal sobered faster than a bull on castration day. “Now wait a minute, brother. Far be it from me to quell any healthy, impetuous behavior in a stiff like you, but, as your best friend—and understanding that I do ultimately have your best interests at heart—I must be responsible and say that a hot and savory flavor like that might be a little more woman than someone like you is prepared to handle.”
Kade's eyes were drawn to the area left of the stage where all the khari'na had congregated. He could almost sense her presence there, feel her pull, as if she had him on a line. Hook, line, and—
“I have to have her.”
A silent moment passed, then Sal placed a somber hand at his shoulder. “Brilliant argument, mate. I am astonished you never became a lawyer.”
“Well, brother,” Kade drolled, turning back to his friend. “I just thought I would try being more like you today.”