by Vela Roth
Here in Tenebra, that was unthinkably dangerous. What would cause her to take such a risk? What had made her so desperate?
Apparition
Knight halted in his tracks before the Font of the Changing Queen. Cassia bumped into him and stood still. His side rose and fell against her skirts as he sniffed the air.
She listened. She heard nothing but the wind. But then, she wouldn’t hear or see the Hesperines unless they so desired.
They would already know she was here, though.
She watched Knight for any sign of what he detected that she could not. The wild groundcovers in the clearing rustled as he gave himself a quick scratch, then resumed his alert stance. She glanced about them. It appeared that only dark, verdurous yews and bare-branched ashes watched them, but Knight knew they were not alone in the woods.
Clouds passed in front of the moons, then away, then covered them again, turning the stone fountain from gray to silver to gray. The fountainhead looked like a scavenger bird one moment, a proud falcon the next. The minstrels said the Font had run with blood the day the Mage King died, but tonight the bird was silent, and the basin beneath held nothing more than the remnants of yesterday’s rain.
Cassia considered the possibility the Hesperines would avoid her to protect their tenuous accord with the king. The embassy would be wary that any blame fall on them, should some ill come of a human violating the agreement tonight.
Which begged the question, what did one do to attract Hesperine attention, when they were determined not to attend? She glanced at Knight. For what must be the first time in his life, he was not a helpful deterrent. She would have to find a way to coax any Hesperines who were here tonight to appear to her, despite the presence of a liegehound bred to hunt them.
Why did the task seem even more monumental now, when she had already managed so much?
When she realized the smudge of moonlight across the clearing was in fact a face, her heart jumped in her chest.
Knight leapt a pace in front of her, and his warning growl rumbled through the night.
“Hama!” she called out.
Knight snarled and lowered his head, crouching to spring.
“Haama!” she commanded.
Growling and whining in continuous protest, Knight backed toward her, never taking his eyes off his prey. In the long-dead tongue used to train liegehounds, there was no command that meant “go against your nature.”
When he came within reach, she put her hand on his head. “Het!”
Knight obeyed and sat, but kept growling at the dark-clad figure lost in shadow.
One of the Hesperines had found her.
Cassia made herself blink. Her eyes shut and opened, and he was still there. She waited. He neither disappeared nor stepped forward.
The clouds shifted again, and moonlight bathed the entire clearing. For the second time, the sight of the Hesperine took Cassia by surprise. She had caught a glimpse of him when the embassy had arrived, but that quick look from across the greensward had not prepared her to behold him up close.
She knew from personal experience how lovely they appeared. But he exceeded even the impossible beauty she had witnessed in others of his kind. He seemed wrought of night sky and moonlight. Both reflected in his dark, jewel-blue eyes, and they glowed brighter than a cat’s. His hair fell across his forehead and twined around his collar, gleaming black. Had the sun ever touched his pale skin? High cheekbones and a fine jaw graced his lean face, which tapered to a narrow chin. His mouth was too elegant to exist anywhere but on a temple statue. A high-collared black robe fell straight and long from strong shoulders down his slender body, making his height hard to judge. Much taller than her, certainly.
She would have said he was recently out of his youth and into his full manhood. He looked perhaps a year or two younger than she. And all his lovely features expressed that he was quite startled. As he stared at her hound, he looked a great deal more unsettled than she felt.
That was how he looked. He might remember the death of the Mage King from personal experience, for all she knew. She must keep that in mind and not let his godlike face misguide her.
And yet he had stood near the back of the delegation. The other Hesperines had appeared older than he, and he had followed their lead. Perhaps he was young, or at least younger than they and less experienced with humans.
If that were the case, she might have attracted the attention of the most useful Hesperine in the embassy.
Opening Remarks
Perhaps she had come to sacrifice Lio to her gods.
An image out of Hesperine laments was alive before him, growling with each breath. Powerful jaws that could lock on limbs and shred flesh. Thick fur that defied the harshest cold over tough skin resistant to puncture. Most dangerous of all, a mind unlike any other animal’s, armored against all attempts at Union.
The dog was indeed a Tenebran liegehound, bred to live far longer than other canines and to withstand poison and disease. But above all, to track, hunt, and slay Lio’s kind.
The hound was as massive as the chronicles described. No doubt he could indeed leap high enough to ground a levitating Hesperine.
Irrational fascination mingled with Lio’s alarm. The hound’s markings matched the illustrations in the scrolls exactly: shades of brown ranging from near-black on his back and shoulders to tan on his underbelly…with a patch of reddish fur around his jaws. His distinctive smell certainly lived up to its reputation, incomparable to any creature Lio had encountered.
Goddess have Mercy on his good intentions. When he had first caught the scent, he should have paid more attention, but the young woman’s powerful fragrance had overpowered the creature’s odor. All Lio had been able to think of was a woman who might be in dire need of help, alone and vulnerable in this sunbound domain of human predators. At least the shreds of raw meat caught in the hound’s back teeth had belonged to an animal. His recent dinner had been mutton, not Hesperine.
Lio reminded himself not all Tenebrans used the dogs for their original purpose. This was not the northern border, where the heart hunters roamed with packs of the beasts, looking to run down Hesperines. The nobility prized liegehounds as bodyguards because of their brute strength and loyalty to the death, as well as the difficulty assassins faced in poisoning them. No wonder the hound’s mistress felt safe on the grounds tonight.
Lio and the lady stared at each other over her guardian’s hackles. The light touch of her hand on the beast’s head held a great weight of authority. She was no humble farmer with a pitchfork. She smelled of more soap than touched the skin of the king’s entire court combined. A pity it was noxious tallow soap, which tainted her fragrance with the stink of animal fat. But it was likely the best available to her. Someone near her had bathed in scent oil, but she had not touched it. On her olive skin, she wore a generous coating of freckles and the sweat of a long walk in the cold.
Belatedly, Lio considered the young woman’s appearance. The moons’ light and his Hesperine sight revealed to him all the lovely colors that comprised her. Dusky pink cheeks and bewitching hazel eyes. A long, straight curtain of sandalwood hair, unbound. She was thin as if she were not well cared for, but clean as if she were. Her cloak and gown were simple in cut and devoid of adornment, but well made of fine green wool.
The wind blew past her, and her scent struck him anew. He resisted the urge to flare his nostrils and take another deep whiff of her. He had no desire to resemble her beast.
Her hand drifted under the hound’s chin, right below all those teeth, and scratched his smear of red fur. She lowered her gaze to the animal. What better way to show Lio she did not fear him than to look away?
He did not smell a whiff of fear on her. It was her trek through the woods that had made her blood lively in her veins. Her heart beat a fast, undulating rhythm in the night, and he caught himself listening with rapt attention. Never had he heard music like this. Not even in Orthros.
He had the Blood Union a
nd all the power the Gift afforded. She had a Hesperine-eating dog. Perhaps they were not entirely on uneven footing.
“You have nothing to fear from Knight,” she informed him. “He only goes after monsters.”
Her words could not have surprised Lio more if she had recited the Discourses on Love in perfect Divine Tongue. Lio offered her a tardy bow, a deep one to convey sincere respect. Best to err on the side of caution until he was certain of her rank. Despite her spare appearance, the lady was almost certainly important if someone had gone to the effort and expense of bonding a liegehound to her.
This encounter was simply waiting to become a diplomatic disaster. Hespera help him, he must not make a mess of things. It was not too late to salvage the situation, if the reassurance the lady had just offered was to be heeded: she did not regard Lio as a monster.
“It is a good thing you have such a dangerous protector, Lady.” Lio adopted a tone of courtly banter, testing her. “I’m afraid vicious monsters do indeed stalk the grounds tonight, seeking to devour beautiful young maidens.”
She took the bait, and he heard her laughter for the first time. That airy peal did not sound natural, but studied and wielded as a defense. She looked up from her hound, a faint smile on her lips. “If I happen upon any such creatures, I shall warn you of what they look like.”
Lio bowed again. “Gracious thanks. Knight and I might be called upon to drive them away, to ensure they do not disturb any ladies taking the evening air.”
“I appreciate your heroic offer. I am quite adept at dealing with monsters, however.”
“I suspect you are. Are you called upon to deal with them often?”
She tilted her head. “Are not we all?”
“At the risk of damaging your confidence in me, I can’t say I have a great deal of experience in monster slaying, myself.”
“You have not been in Tenebra long.”
Lio considered his next words. They sailed farther and farther from the safe waters of banter, which no one ruled. “I hold out hope no monster slaying will be necessary during our stay here.”
“Of course. You and your company ride under a different banner than the warriors of this house. You are the sort who would rather solve conflicts with words than swords, are you not?”
“I hope so.”
“Then there is a favor you can do for me. No monster slaying required.”
He folded his hands behind his back. What could she possibly want of him? What could he possibly do for her—safely? “As you say, I ride under a different banner. But perhaps I may still serve you, Lady. What is it you would ask of me?”
“Answer me a question, nothing more.” Her heartbeat jumped again in her chest, although her expression did not change. She continued smoothly, but the playfulness was gone from her voice. “Are there any among your party who perform the Mercy for the dying?”
He was sure every bit of his astonishment showed on his face. He did not answer right away, more on guard now than he had been when he’d first seen the hound. “I was not aware your people and mine used the same name for that Hesperine rite.”
“We do not. I prefer yours.”
“Then you are quite unusual among your kind.”
“Indeed. I even know the way your people honor the dying does not involve feasting on their flesh…or even drinking their blood.”
Lio discarded his assumptions about her then and there. “Then you must know I am hesitant to answer you, lest I implicate any of my companions in practices that are…difficult for most of your people to understand.”
“Of course. It is best if we do not name names. I ask only for a yes or a no. Can I persuade you to give me that much? As a deed of chivalry?”
Lio sought answers in the Blood Union. He let it draw him into the russet tendrils of light that were the veins beneath her skin. He barely managed not to gasp.
Suddenly, at last, he was in this moment. Not on the greensward dying with a helpless man. He was in the living current of her blood.
Here was the greatest beauty she possessed—a will to survive unlike any Lio had ever felt. A Will so strong it could only have grown under constant threat.
Here was the reason his people spilled their own blood on behalf of her kind. Why the embassy had walked voluntarily into this den of predators and the Queens had allowed them to do so.
This woman the Goddess had given life must fight for every beat of her heart.
Lio unraveled himself from her, struggling to resist the music under her skin. “If you would have me be your knight champion, Lady, you must condescend to offer me at least some small token of yours.”
Her smile did not reach her eyes or her blood. “Of course. You would want a flower to adorn your breast. A trophy to carry onto the field.”
“Nay, I would beg of you a treasure that is beyond my power to possess. It is yours to share or withhold. But if you will allow me, I promise I shall carry it with honor…and keep it close.” He put a hand over his heart. “Your name, Lady.”
Her blood rushed faster. She hesitated. “I thought it was agreed no names should pass our lips.”
“To protect those who might be endangered, should their names be known.”
“Did you imagine that includes only your own people?”
He bowed his head in concession. Hound or no hound, she was still a woman in Tenebra. And she was still disobeying her king. “Forgive me. A knight intends his lady no harm.”
“Only a knight can be trusted,” she told him. The hound eyed him, tensing as if to stand. “Het, love,” she soothed, and the beast stilled.
Lio met the dog’s gaze. “I have no wish to trespass on my lady’s generosity, but could I call myself honorable if I answered such a question, not knowing who asks?”
“Fair,” she acknowledged. “Yet you ask a name in exchange for a mere yes or no.”
“Not at all. For I shall give you my name as well.”
“Unwilling to endanger your comrades, but ready to place yourself on the sacrificial altar?”
He tried not to let her metaphor concern him. “A confidence for a confidence. And if that concerns you so, let me ask you this: to whom might I betray you? What reason have I to reveal your secrets?”
She was silent for a long moment, and he began to think he had lost his gamble, and she would turn and leave. But at last she nodded. “Very well. Who offers himself as my champion tonight?”
“Deukalion Komnenos. But my lady must call me Lio, as my friends do.”
“A pleasure to meet you…Lio. I am Cassia.”
“Cassia.” He smiled at her, remembering just in time to keep his lips shut. She was her name, through and through: a spice beloved among Hesperines for its fragrance and flavor. Bitter, unless sweetened.
“May I have the answer to my question, Lio?”
“The answer is no. None of us perform the Mercy. We enter Tenebra to fulfill other duties.”
A sigh escaped her, whether of relief or disappointment, the Blood Union did not tell him. And that, he wondered at. For all he beheld in her, there was a great deal he could not discern.
She dipped her head in a deep nod. “Thank you.”
He bowed again instead of asking her more questions. Nor did he offer further answers. There was much more he could have told her, of course, but their agreement was only for a yes or no. One did not reveal all one’s bargaining power during the first negotiation. He suspected she knew that as well as he did. He had haggled for all she would reveal tonight.
Would he have an opportunity to bargain for more?
Her hand shifted slightly on the dog’s head, and he got to his feet. He still watched Lio, but there was no sign of teeth now.
“I bid you good evening.” She turned away. “And good meal.”
If he had not suspected it already, that last remark convinced him. There was a great deal more about her that would surprise him.
She could not simply leave it at that. Her question, answered but
unexplained, hung between them, an agreement reached, a warning that he may yet have misstepped. “Cassia.”
She hesitated.
“I am still a student of your people’s ways,” he said, “but do not some Tenebrans have second names to indicate their family, descent or land?”
She arched a brow at him over her shoulder.
“I have given you my name and that of my bloodline as well as the answer to your question,” he reminded her. “If Cassia is not the only name you bear, will you not do me the honor of telling me the rest?”
She looked ahead. If he were not Hesperine, he might not have heard the word she whispered. “Basilis.”
Too stunned to reply, Lio stood and watched her, heard her, smelled her walk away from him.
What had he done? How great a prize had he just bargained for and won?
The End of an Era
Lio crossed the length of the grounds at a run. But tonight, motion did not bring meditation. The sensation of the wind ripping past him and the ground falling away beneath his feet yielded no insight. When he came to a halt at the edge of the trees, Lady Cassia was no less a mystery to him than she had been the moment he’d first scented her.
And it was Lady Cassia. Lady Cassia Basilis. No one bore that name except a woman of the Tenebran royal house who was not herself royal. He had just met King Lucis’s only living daughter.
Lio strolled out of the woods at a more dignified pace and approached the main gate of Solorum Fortress. Guards scurried along the ramparts, their wide eyes glinting at him. Fear and disgust wafted down to him with the smells of leather, sweat and steel. Lio gave the men a short bow by way of greeting. They scurried faster. Momentarily the portcullis uttered a groan, then screeched upward, warning even the dullest mortal ears that Initiate Ambassador Deukalion no longer stalked the grounds.
