by Cayla Kluver
He jerked away from me, and I stumbled back in alarm.
“What?” he scorned, nodding his head in Narian’s direction, “Your pretty boy can’t take care of himself? He needs to be saved by a woman?”
“You will not speak to the Princess in such a manner,” Narian interjected, authoritative in a fashion I would not have thought possible. “If your fight is with me, then you will address me.”
Steldor rounded on Narian, his rage rising to the point where it was almost an audible rumble.
“Perhaps you should run off to Mama and Papa before you get hurt,” he taunted.
He shoved his challenger in the chest, trying to push him backward, but Narian shifted his weight to absorb Steldor’s prod. As Narian stood his ground, Steldor’s eyes burned, and I knew he was dangerously close to exploding.
“Did you hear what I said?” he demanded, jabbing Narian with increasing force.
“I heard what you said, but perhaps you should be more concerned about your father than about mine.”
Steldor faltered and his eyes flicked over the crowd, as if he worried Cannan might be among the spectators, then returned to rest on Narian’s face. A flush crept up his neck, for the younger man had deduced one of his only vulnerabilities.
I felt ill, knowing that Narian was too brave, or perhaps too foolish, for his own good. I feverishly searched the vicinity, and caught sight of several guards conversing near the western wall. In the midst of them I saw Destari, and I willed him to notice my plight.
After a moment, he glanced in my direction, then stepped away from the other guards to stride toward me. Tall enough to peer over the heads of the other guests, he assessed the situation and quickened his pace. He had no idea how anything had started or exactly what was taking place, but all the same, Steldor was involved, and everyone in the military knew of the youthful commander’s fiery temper. “I said, move!” Steldor thundered, and Narian assumed a fighting stance with his forearms in front of his chest and his left foot slightly ahead of his right. As Steldor employed his full weight to drive him back, Narian deflected his lunge with ease.
For an instant, Steldor looked stunned, then he balled up his fists to strike. Fortunately, Destari stepped between the two of them at that moment, putting a hand on Steldor’s chest to restrain him.
“This is not the place for such conduct,” he admonished in his deep and powerful voice.
Steldor thrust Destari’s hand away in another attempt to get at Narian, but the Elite Guard gripped him firmly by the arm.
“Get out of my way!” Steldor demanded, fixing Destari with a glare that contained all the loathing he could rally. Unwisely he landed one great shove upon his superior officer’s shoulder.
“If you are a smart man, you will not try that again,” Destari warned, his black eyes glistening.
Steldor took a step back, and as he did so, glanced past Destari, whereupon I saw his resolve weaken. Though his anger did not diminish, his face paled, and I followed his gaze to where Cannan, composed yet dangerous, stood just outside the circle of people surrounding us. The captain must have seen that trouble was brewing, and had come to deal with whatever the problem might be. I suspected that by the time he had drawn near, Destari had arrived on the scene, and Cannan had decided to let him handle things so Steldor did not have to suffer the indignity of being reprimanded by his father in front of all these people.
“You need to cool off,” Destari said to Steldor through gritted teeth, not raising his volume. “Go. And that’s an order.”
With one final vindictive glower at the Elite Guard, my hotheaded suitor turned and, motioning to his friends to join him, stormed off, to where I knew not.
I thought about Steldor’s reaction to his father, and knowing what I did about Cannan’s status and temperament, I could understand Steldor’s reluctance to cross him. Cannan was a confident and decisive man of action who was known to have a formidable temper, although it was much better controlled than that of his son. I did not know of a single person who was not, to some extent, intimidated by the Captain of the Guard, and Steldor had grown up answering to him. As Cannan had an uncanny ability to see right through people, it was inconceivable that he was taken in by his son’s charm. Steldor also had to deal with the fact that Cannan was not only his father, but his military leader, and in that role, would tolerate no disrespect.
For a brief moment following Steldor’s ignominious exit, Destari and Cannan locked eyes, then both of them scrutinized Narian, attempting to sort out what they had just seen. What manner of sixteen-year-old boy would challenge Steldor, much less do so without a sign of trepidation?
Narian did not acknowledge the military men, but simply held out his arm once more to me. “Shall we?”
I clutched at him, feeling weak in the knees, and for a moment leaned against him.
“Are you all right?” he asked, and I could feel his breath upon my cheek.
“Yes, of course,” I murmured, then I straightened, giving him a feeble smile. “Let’s just move on.”
As we walked toward the front of the ballroom, people continued to gawk, although they resumed their activities upon our passing. The entertainment was over, and there was no need to waste such a delectable evening.
Having recovered my poise, I thanked Narian when we reached the sitting area where my parents were holding court. Koranis and Alantonya were nearby, and motioned their son over for additional introductions. As he joined them, I wondered who he truly was, for I knew his name and little else. How could he, a boy one year my junior, be so courageous? Grown men quaked in the face of Steldor’s temper, but Narian had not so much as flinched. Perhaps he had underestimated Steldor’s skill, or overestimated his own, and all in my defense.
I was flattered, though I supposed his actions had nothing to do with me personally. As Semari had told Miranna and me in the market, Narian had an unusual amount of respect for women, and had no doubt been offended by Steldor’s treatment of me on that basis alone. As I mulled this over, I realized how unaccustomed I was to being taken seriously. I had been taught all my life how to be a lady, a submissive being (though my actions were sometimes viewed as less than appropriate), and the rapt attention Narian had paid to my opinions out on the balcony had made me feel credible and important in an entirely new way.
I looked around and saw my sister pushing through the crowd of people, coming in my direction. I nodded my head toward the door to the corridor, and informed my parents that I had developed a headache and would be returning to my quarters. After meeting with me, Miranna would no doubt return to the ballroom, but I was beginning to feel as though I would drown in its heavy air.
As a guard opened one of the double doors for me, I stepped into the corridor, noticing for the first time how stifling the gala had become with so many people in attendance. Where I now stood, it was cool and open, and, more important, quiet. All I could hear was the faint hum of conversation through the thick ballroom doors.
Miranna joined me a few seconds later, the babble of the guests momentarily loud as she stepped out beside me.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice trembling with curiosity. She clasped my hand and led me onto the landing of the Grand Staircase. “All I saw was Steldor as he stormed off, and you taking Narian’s arm, but judging from the muttering around me, the three of you created quite a stir.”
I relayed the story to her, beginning with my hasty escape to the balcony and my interlude with Narian, and finishing with our courteous good-byes once we had reached the front of the ballroom.
Miranna laughed, playfully tugging at her strawberry-blond hair.
“What?” I asked, unable to see the humor in the evening’s events.
“Well, Sister, it appears that you are being fought over,” she said with a grin.
“Oh, nonsense.”
“It’s true! Perhaps Narian could be the man of your dreams, standing up to your enemy to defend your honor.”
“You’re infatuated with romance.”
“Perhaps, but all the same, I’m going to arrange an outing to Semari’s country home for us. Perhaps we’ll get another glimpse of your champion.”
I shook my head, believing it better to let Miranna poke fun than to waste my breath arguing.
“And how about your suitor?” I said, changing the subject.
“Who, Temerson?”
I flashed a mischievous grin of my own. “You two were quite a sight on the dance floor.”
Miranna’s blue eyes shone. “I may have lost a few toes tonight, Alera, but nothing you say can put a damper on my mood.”
“Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“No,” she replied with a shy smile. “But he blushed horribly when I kissed him on the cheek as we parted.”
“Mira!” I exclaimed in feigned disapproval as she giggled. “It seems you are having quite an enjoyable evening.”
“Yes, indeed, and I will continue to do so if I ever get back inside. I’ll speak to Mother in the morning to make arrangements to visit Semari.”
Her face lit up in anticipation of rejoining the festivities. She did a graceful pirouette as she said good-night, then reentered the ballroom, brushing her fingertips through her hair as the doors closed behind her.
Just after Miranna’s departure, Tadark tumbled through the doors to see if I desired an escort. He would be off duty after I retired, so I gave him leave to enjoy the rest of the celebration. Having dismissed him, I walked alone through the corridors, savoring the quietude, my mind returning to Narian. I had formed several new impressions of the young man over the course of the evening, many of which were contradictory, and none of which shed light on his obscure past. While I did not live in Miranna’s romantic fantasy world, the idea of seeing him again was more appealing than it should have been.
CHAPTER 15
ENIGMA
THE BUGGY JOSTLED US UNCOMFORTABLY AS WE made our way to the country home of the Baron Koranis and his family, for the road had become pitted from the rain the night before. Miranna sat beside me, surveying the passing landscape while the black Friesians trotted onward under the guidance of a Palace Guard, our bodyguards traveling with us on their own horses. I stared straight ahead, excitement stirring within me, mixed with a hint of annoyance at how closely Tadark clung to my side of the buggy. I supposed his zealousness was due to the fact that Koranis’s estate lay along the eastern border of our kingdom in the direction of Cokyri.
Miranna had arranged everything so that our mother and father were under the impression that we were making this journey to visit Semari. If either of our parents had known our true purpose, we would not have been allowed to go. I felt guilty, not about permitting Miranna to mislead our parents, but about causing Alantonya the effort of preparing for and fussing over our arrival just so that we could get another look at her eldest son, whose privacy we would indisputably be invading.
In spite of Miranna’s encouragement, it was impossible for me to think of Narian as a suitor. One year younger than me, he was not even an adult by Hytanican standards. Age was not, however, my only concern.
Narian was an enigma, a complete and total mystery to me, to my father, to his family and to Cannan. There was simply too little known about him for me to put faith in him. And after the incident at the celebration in his honor…though it had happened five days previously, it was as fresh in my mind as though it had occurred moments ago. I could see his youth plainly, but I could sense no youthful innocence within him, and that confused and disturbed me.
After another hour, our driver brought the horses to a halt in front of Koranis’s home. Halias and Tadark dismounted and helped us to the ground as my eyes roamed over the property. I had only been to this country estate a few times in my life, for although I was friendly with all members of Koranis’s family, I was not good friends with any of them, as Miranna was with Semari. My sister had come here often during our childhood, but I had rarely accompanied her.
The house itself was large and well crafted, standing two stories tall upon a stone foundation. It was wood framed, filled in with wattle and daub, and had costly glass windows in every room. The cream-colored exterior was partially covered with vines and topped with a dark brown tile roof, and the grass surrounding the multicolored stone path leading to the door was lush and green.
I barely had time to acclimate to my surroundings before Semari rushed through the front door and over to Miranna and me. She curtseyed to us, then discarded all formality as she began jabbering to my sister. A few moments later, Alantonya came more sedately out of the dwelling, followed by Charisa and Adalan, who stood behind her while she awaited our approach.
“Your Highnesses,” she said in greeting, dropping into a low curtsey, her younger daughters imitating her movement.
She invited us into the house where we took up seats in a tastefully decorated parlor and began to engage in idle conversation. Less than an hour later, a servant entered to announce that tea was ready to be served, and Alantonya informed us that we would be taking our refreshment in the backyard. As she ushered us through her home, we passed several lavish rooms that shamelessly gave notice of Koranis’s wealth. I looked over my shoulder for Narian one final time as we stepped out the rear door of the dwelling, but was again disappointed. As far as I could tell, he was not at home.
Before us on the soft, green grass was a small circular table set for six, obligingly shaded from the mid-afternoon sun by a large maple tree. Although the days were still hot, they were becoming less humid as the end of August approached, and the evenings now had a definite chill. As we seated ourselves around the table, I looked out across the Baron’s property. To my right under the cloudless sky lay vast fields, while to my left and before me the land sloped toward the forest, and I marveled at the unsurpassed beauty of this property.
The small talk continued, although Charisa and Adalan said not a word, probably afraid they would make some glaring error in etiquette. I complimented Alantonya on the loveliness of her home, then inquired about the property itself.
“Does the Baron own all the land reaching from here to the forest?”
“Yes,” Alantonya replied, sipping her tea. “My lord owns in excess of a hundred acres, most of it cleared for farming. He inherited some of the land, received some as a gift from the King and purchased the rest. He also claims part of the forest. When he first took over the property, he hired some villagers to cut trails through the woods for safer passage on horseback. That’s where he is now—out riding with Kyenn and Zayle.”
I nodded, now understanding Narian’s absence, though I could not help but be dismayed by it. We had primarily come, after all, to see him. We finished our tea, then Alantonya made a suggestion.
“Semari, perhaps you and the princesses would like to walk along the riverbank. It is a lovely afternoon, and a stroll will put a blush in your cheeks.”
“Yes!” Semari happily agreed, tugging at my sister’s hand and pulling her to her feet. “It’s not far into the trees, and it’s so pretty there!”
Miranna and Semari skipped away from the house, Halias following, as I remained a moment longer to thank our hostess.
“It was my pleasure,” Alantonya responded, rising to give me a curtsey, then beckoning her younger daughters to accompany her into the house.
I hastened after the other girls, Tadark as always at my heels, and though I was not dressed for such an excursion, I soon caught up with them, for they were dillydallying. I was wearing two skirts over a white chemise and a matching panel bodice that laced up both sides, and I was already feeling the exertion.
The three of us, bodyguards trailing, ambled down the hill together and into the woods, taking care to follow the winding, leaf-strewn, tree-rooted path where water still puddled, for the sun could not easily reach the forest floor. The dampened foliage and earth emitted a musty fragrance, a smell I always associated with the earthworms that rose to the surfac
e in the palace garden after it rained.
A short while later, Semari led us to the right on a rockier trail that opened into a narrow clearing that bordered the Recorah River. Trees hung over the edges of the clearing, their trunks obeying the invisible boundary but their leaves and branches unable to be restrained. The open space between the woods and the river was only about twelve feet; although the closeness of the trees ensured refreshing shade, it also seemed to magnify the sound of the water.
I looked into the splashing and tumbling torrent and saw that it was deep here, even along the water’s rocky edge, so deep that it would have risen above my head had I stumbled in. The sound of Semari’s giggling drew me from my reverie, and I looked up to see the younger girls skipping away, following the Recorah downstream. Sighing, I once more followed.
The two friends stopped by a cluster of boulders that stood sentinel next to the river, the craggy tops of the stones rising above the rapids. Semari perched atop one of the boulders and Miranna joined her, but I chose to stand a few feet away, too wary of the roiling water to move closer.
The trees grew even nearer to the river here, giving the area an ominous feel. I gazed farther upstream and could see the remains of the old bridge that had once provided passage to the east. It had been burned during the war and had never been rebuilt. Across the Recorah from where we stood, the terrain became rocky and the foliage more intermittent as the land stretched into the foothills of the Niñeyre Mountain Range. This inhospitable area was sparsely populated, primarily by nomads, for it became windy and dry as one moved away from the water. This was the land the Cokyrians had to cross to enter our kingdom, for they claimed the high desert area of the mountains as their own.
Miranna, growing restless atop the boulder, rose to her feet and took a step forward, peering down into the water.
“What are you doing, Mira?” Semari asked, shifting to get a better view of her friend.
