by Amber Jaeger
Iago came out, his hands held in front of him. The woman followed, her face a mix of admiration and curiosity.
“You do not look well. How did you get up here?”
Katiyana said nothing and he motioned her down. “Your hands are bleeding. Please, come in, let me see them.”
She shook her head and the woman snorted. “Unless you are planning on jumping, you might as well come in or he will pester you to death to see your wounds.”
Katiyana climbed down reluctantly and let Iago usher her back into the room. There was a small table and he pulled a seat out for her before taking her hands in his. She winced and he frowned. The ends of her fingertips were raw and the palms had wide scratches. She would have thought the years of thick callouses would have protected her, but the volcanic stone the castle had been built with was sharper than she had thought.
“So?” the woman prompted. “How did you get in here?”
“I climbed,” she said, wincing as Iago poured a cloudy solution over the wounds.
“Why?” she asked, her voice astounded.
Katiyana bit her lip, wondering how much to reveal. “The king and I had a disagreement. It did not go well and I had to get away from him.”
Iago’s hands froze over the little pot of salve he had chosen. “Valanka—”
“No, no,” she interrupted. “Lian. You know,” she muttered, “the Fire King.”
The woman threw her head back and roared out laughter. “Ha! You remind me of our Calia. Are you a thorn in your king’s side as well?”
“He is not my king,” she said darkly.
The brunette waved away her argument. “I am Klaribel. My husband tells me he already met you.”
Katiyana looked in surprise from him to her. The quiet, gentle healer was married to the brash horse master?
Iago gave her a smile. “She is not as tough as she looks.”
Klaribel arched a brow at him. “Careful, my dear heart, or you are going to be the one needing that salve.” She dropped down into the other chair while her husband finished his work. “So what happened?”
“We disagreed and he lost his temper. Again.” Her arm was still throbbing where he had grabbed. She would not be telling them that.
“He is as rough a man as our own king was. But there is hope for him.”
“How do you mean?” Katiyana asked.
Iago patted the last of slave into her palm and stood back, wiping his hands on a rag. “Our king was… cursed, even more by himself than anything else. Your king seems to have self-imposed his own troubles. When he sees them, I suspect he will change back to the man he is supposed to be.”
“His only trouble is Sula, and he will not be happy until she is gone.”
“That is not his problem and that will not make him happy,” Klaribel said cryptically. Then she sat up straight, her thick braid swinging behind her. “I gather you are looking to hide from him for a bit, until his temper dies down.”
Katiyana nodded, unsure of what the woman was saying. Iago gave his wife a warning look that she returned with deceptively wide eyes. “What? I could use her help.”
“I doubt that she has any knowledge of those beasts you call horses.”
Horses. She hated horses. But if she could hide away in the barn until Lian cooled… “I love horses,” she said with false cheer.
Klaribel led her down the back stairs after giving her a more suitable outfit and warm gear. Her feet felt stiff in the boots but the horse master insisted she did not want to wear her shoes out to the barn.
They stood outside the enormous barn, Klaribel practically bouncing and Katiyana huddled in the large jacket, shivering. “What are we waiting for?” she asked, her teeth chattering.
“Just wait, you will see soon enough,” she said, her voice high and bright.
Katiyana sighed and turned slowly. This was not how she had envisioned her day. Her hands burned painfully and the tentative trust she had built up in the king had been shattered. The shock and hurt was slowly turning to anger.
“What is that?” she asked, pointing to structure dwarfed by the barn.
“Our house,” Klaribel said proudly. “Well, it will be when it is finished. The king built it for us.”
“You do not wish to live in the castle?” Katiyana asked in surprise.
“No. I wish to have a home like I did as a child. And Iago and I will soon need the extra room. Plus I would prefer being close to my barn.”
Voices carried on the wind and she turned to see something moving far off on a trail from down the mountain. Klaribel hopped up and down again, clapping her hands together. It seemed totally at odds with her brash demeanor and even worse language.
The figures became larger as they came close. And larger and larger. Katiyana watched in anxious awe as they finally drew near enough that she could see just how enormous the fur laden men were. And rearing up behind them were horses they could not have reached their ears with even by standing on their toes. Katiyana could have walked under one without slouching.
She shuddered at the thought of getting that close to one of the animals.
“Here, here,” the darker man boomed out. “We received word we have to pay out on a bet. Let us see the proof.” His eyes twinkled and he may have been smiling under his thick, overgrown beard.
Klaribel grinned and opened her coat.
“Uh,” Katiyana breathed, not understanding what was happening. Her jaw dropped when the woman pulled her blouse free of her trousers and pulled it up high, exposing her rotund belly to the cool air.
The men laughed and clapped each other on the shoulder before reaching out gentle hands to place over her bump. “Sure enough, a little filly for our filly,” said the lighter man with a smile on his face. “When does the baby come?”
Klaribel pulled her shirt back down and wrapped her coat tight. “Sometime in early spring.”
“Hoho, you will have for hands full soon, perhaps we should take these beasts home.”
The petite horse master put her fisted hands on her hips and stamped her foot. “The hell you will! I heard you,” she jabbed a hand out, “bet him,” her fist swung to the other man, “that you would give me two of your own stock if I ever got married and had a baby of my own. And she’s on her way, so pay up.” She stuck a hand out for the reins of the animals that dwarfed her.
They laughed and slapped them into her hands. “Come, let us see where you intend to house these animals. They will not fit in the stalls made for your puny horses.”
Klaribel grinned and took off for the barn and Katiyana skittered to stay ahead of her and the animals.
She was surprised by how warm and clean the barn was. It smelled of animals but also of sweet hay. “Um, where are the horses?” Katiyana asked, seeing the barn empty of animals except for a fat orange cat lounging on a bale.
Klaribel arched a thick brow. “In the pasture. Where else would they be?”
“Oh, I thought perhaps it was too cold out there for them.”
Now all three of them were staring at her curiously. She shrank away, not wanting any questions asked. The men surprised her by laughing again. “I do not think she is a horse person.”
Klaribel scoffed. “Who does not like horses?” She reached up to pet one of the animals cheeks and it obliged by bringing its massive head down, nearly knocking her over. She just smiled.
“We may have a new breed to offer soon,” the largest man teased.
“A new breed?” Klaribel demanded. “How?”
The other man shook his head and bowed out of the conversation but the larger mountain man dug his hands into his thick beard.
“You know of the northern kingdom?” he asked. Katiyana jumped inside her large coat at the man’s words. The only territory that was further north was the one her mother, and Sula, had come from.
Both girls nodded impatiently.
“We finally made it through the pass to trade.”
“You lie,” Klaribel accu
sed. “No one can make it through those mountains, the only way in is much further south. And no one has been through there since Sula became queen.”
Katiyana gasped and tried to hide it with a cough. Neither one even glanced at her and she held her breath as she waited for the rest of the conversation.
“I tell the truth,” the man insisted. “We were the first outsiders they had seen in a long time. And they were happy to trade,” he added smugly.
The other giant man walked back over. “Tell the other part, Clem.”
Clem rubbed his beard. “Yeah, that was unusual.”
“What was?” Katiyana squeaked out.
“Well,” he said, leaning in and lowering his voice. “Their king is gone.”
“Gone?” Klaribel repeated. “What do you mean, gone?”
“Just gone. The people said one day he gathered them all for an announcement, said there was no more magic in the land, threw his crown on the throne, wished them the best and disappeared.”
Katiyana snorted at the man’s fable and Klaribel laughed.
“What do we care about some wayward king? Come on, what kind of horse did you get from them?”
“Ah ah,” the man said, laying a giant hand against his nose. “I think I will be keeping my secrets before you can steal another prized animal away from me.”
After more joking and teasing, the men left with admonishments for Klaribel to take good care of the animals. Katiyana sat on hay bale with the warm cat in her lap. She hated that even the mere mention of her stepmother could shake her. “What are you even going to do with these animals?” she finally asked.
Klaribel looked up from brushing their shaggy coats. “Well, traditionally they are used for pulling. Carriages or equipment. They are popular among farmers and wagon drivers.”
That did not answer her question. “And what will you do with them?”
The woman hesitated. “Nothing, I just wanted them. My father had a horse of nearly the same breed. He loved that animal like it was his own son. I suppose they remind of a time when things were happy.”
“Are they not happy now?” Katiyana asked. “You have a husband, and a baby on the way. And your house is nearly finished.”
Klaribel gave a faint smile. “I am happy now. And I was happy then, long ago. I suppose I wish I could have had this life and that life, all together, you know?”
Pain twisted in Katiyana’s chest. She did know. She wished her father was still alive and that she could still have her friends in the woods and… she did not know if she wished she had still met Lian. When his temper did not rule him, he seemed a good man. Kind and fair and loyal. She shook her head. He had grabbed her and she did not know what he would have done had she not escaped. At that memory, her anger burned a little hotter.
“I know what you mean,” she finally said quietly. They let the conversation die away, both grateful for the peaceful quiet.
It was only interrupted when Klaribel was finished grooming the horses. “Katiyana, will you bring me that basket?” she asked, pointing to corner heaped with bags of oats. In the basket were fat carrots.
Uncertain, she took it over. Not aware of just how far the horses reach was, the bigger one leaned its massive head down, stealing one away. Katiyana gasped and jumped back, nearly tripping over her own feet. Klaribel laughed and rubbed the animals head. “Have you no manners, Buck?” She looked back to Katiyana. “Try Snowflake, see how politely she waits for you?”
Katiyana looked up and saw the animal gazing at her with large, soft brown eyes. She let out a little snort from her velvety nose and stamped a giant, white furred hoof. Katiyana tentatively reached into the basket, pulling out a carrot.
“Hold it out on the palm of your hand,” Klaribel instructed. The horse nibbled around on her hand, grasping the treat with its lips before picking her head back up. Katiyana laughed, shocked at the horses gentleness.
Klaribel’s eyes glowed. “Want to go for a ride?”
“No, oh no. On these? How would you even get up there?” she asked, her voice high and panicked.
The horse master gave a wicked grin. “I will show you.”
And that was how Katiyana found herself perched high atop the beast named Snowflake, with Klaribel at her back, holding the reins. “But what about the saddle?” she asked, squirming to find a comfortable position on the animals bare back.
Klaribel snorted and gently kicked her foot, prodding the animal to exit the barn. Katiyana grabbed a handful of mane and let go just as quickly. Her hands were still quite sore. “Relax,” Klaribel admonished. “Move with the horse as she moves under you. She is gentle and slow. And wide. If you cannot stay perched atop her, then I do not know how you do not fall out of bed every night. And besides, I will not bother to have saddles made until these horses finish growing. It would be a waste of time.”
“Finish growing?” Katiyana gasped. “They are not full grown already?”
Her questioned dried up just as her mouth did when the horse moved into a trot, guided around the castle by Klaribel.
“Relax,” she admonished again. “Or you really will fall off.”
With no other option, Katiyana forced her muscles to soften and gently rested her hands on the horse’s mane. By the time they had completed their circuit, she was riding almost as easily as Klaribel and had a smile on her face. The sun was making its way down from its high point in the sky.
Without too much prompting, she helped Klaribel get the horses into their new pens and the women made their way back to the castle. She hesitated just outside the door and the horse master paused with her.
“Here,” she said softly, handing her a small jar out of her pocket. “You will want it after your bath. And you really need one,” she teased, wrinkling her nose up. Katiyana did not smile and she sighed. “You are worried about the king?”
“No, I want to murder the king,” she muttered darkly.
Klaribel laughed. “Now there is the spirit! You are a strong girl, let him know now and he will not step out of line again.” She frowned. “Well, maybe you will have to tell him a few times. When Calia was straightening out Valanka…” she shuddered. “He will come around.”
Katiyana shrugged, uncomfortable again that everyone seemed to think sanding off the kings rough edges was her job. She had enough on her plate. His terrible temper was his own problem.
She managed to avoid him on her way up to her room. Locking the door, she stripped down to soak in the tub, her mind spinning furiously. A bell gonged somewhere deep in the castle and she sighed, pulling herself from the warm water.
Dripping wet, she surveyed the wardrobe Alma had put away for her. With care, she selected a pale rose gown and pulled breeches on underneath it. The sleeves were far too short to conceal her knives so she pulled on a soft green sweater that wrapped around and tied. Her hair had dried to soft waves and she clipped the front back with a silver clasp. The dainty shoes were ignored and she pulled on her sturdy boots.
Prepared for war, she went down to dinner.
Valanka, Calia and Lian were already seated. Head held high, she took her own seat. She could feel Lian’s gaze on her but she ignored it.
“You look lovely,” Calia said softly.
“Thank you.”
The quietness was tense and uncomfortable as they waited to be served. Lian finally cleared his throat, preparing to say something but Katiyana cut him off.
“Valanka, I got to see your horses that were delivered today. They are quite impressive.”
He looked up from his wine glace with a little smirk. “Oh, those are not mine, I have already been informed. Klaribel somehow managed to wrangle them from the mountain men and I am not to even think of using them.”
Lian glowered. “And you tolerate such insolence from your subjects?”
Calia’s eyes narrowed but it was Valanka that responded. “Without them, I would be nothing. They are priceless to me so I treat them as such. I cannot imagine it is much diffe
rent than you treat Alma.”
He frowned but said nothing.
Katiyana could not hold her tongue. “People, including servants and subjects, do not exist merely to serve a ruler. A ruler exists to serve and protect them.”
“Well said,” Calia murmured.
“That was not what I was implying,” Lian argued angrily.
“Really?” Katiyana asked, finally meeting his eyes. “Then enlighten us. How do you look at people other than as a means to an end for getting your revenge?”
He pressed his mouth into a thin, firm line.
“I apologize,” she said suddenly, pushing her chair back. “I am afraid I am no longer hungry.”
She got two steps out of the dining hall when Lian caught up with her. “Katiyana, please,” he said but she ignored him. When she felt him reach for her arm, her instincts took over and she turned, whipping a knife out.
He froze when he saw it and slowly held his hands up.
“Touch me again,” she growled, pointing the blade at him. “Touch me again and your hand is forfeit.”
He swallowed hard. “I owe you an apology,” he said, his voice thick.
“I do not want your false apology. It will only last until the next time you lose your temper.” She waited for him to answer, the blade never wavering.
He sighed and rubbed his brow. “You are right. I struggle with it but this is who I am.”
“It is not,” she snapped, finally putting the knife away. “I have spoken with those who know you. You were not like this before Sula took your family. And I can understand your anger, but not when you use it to lash out at those closest to you. It is sickening.”
The king’s face paled. “You are correct, this is not the man I had hoped to be. But I must avenge my family, she must be taken down!”
Katiyana crossed her arms over her chest. “I do not disagree with you, just your methods. If you do not change courses, you will be just as bad as her.”
He looked like he might sick up and she was sure no one ever spoke to him like that. But he needed to hear it. Still, she felt no pleasure in showing him the harsh truth.
