The Sword and the Slave

by Michelle Levigne

  "Bodyguards?” Nona chuckled. “Do you need bodyguards?"

  "Only if someone is planning on knocking me unconscious and dragging me out of the palace.” Adon sighed and finished pulling the dishes off the shelves to serve their dinner.

  That was something else L'istra liked about him. He pitched in to help without being asked, didn't consider it below him to help clean up dishes or serve food or assist Nona in tidying their living quarters. With a guilty start, L'istra stepped out of the shadows and approached the cooking alcove. She liked to help her nurse prepare dinner, when she had time. In the last few moons since Adon had joined them, she had been able to pretend for hours at a time that they were a family, elderly mother and her two grown children, living in an isolated oasis, with no one else in the world to bother them.

  Such as ambassadors and politicians and importunate nobles.

  "There you are, my child.” Nona put down the ladle and bustled over to clasp L'istra's face between her palms and look into her eyes. “Headache all gone?"

  "It was cut in half the moment I walked out of the council chambers and left that whining Hiskarlit priest behind me. His voice could dissolve my best armor, I swear.” She pursed her lips to spit, to get the bad taste out of her mouth, but Adon's warm chuckle stopped her.

  "I've had the dubious honor of encountering that very priest,” he said, when L'istra cocked an eyebrow at him. “His breath could dissolve a city wall."

  L'istra laughed, and the remainder of her headache from a very frustrating afternoon in the Emperor's council evaporated. Between Adon's potions and his sense of humor, she wondered that she ever suffered discomfort of any kind.

  Except when she had those odd, hungry dreams, so she woke feeling her belly twisting pleasantly, warm and liquid. Unsure what she had been dreaming, she knew she liked the sensations that lingered, and the oddest certainty that Adon had featured in the dreams.

  Adon entertained them with three amusing tales of the antics of the Hiskarlit envoys’ servants that resulted in them needing his services as a healer. Only the nobles of the Emperor's council seemed to feel any restraint in retaliating against Hiskarlit arrogance and repugnance for cleanliness.

  "Their noses are as numb as their wits,” Nona declared, after Adon finished his stories and L'istra had given them a recital of the encounter with the priest in the council that afternoon. She had a gift for mimicry, and liked making Adon and Nona laugh.

  "How long do you think they'll be here in Parses?” Adon asked. “I have a duty to my fellow healers, to give them time to prepare for more encounters with the envoy's people."

  "Hmm. Yes. Considering their certainty that they can have anything they want, merely by claiming that the demi-god of Hiskarlit wants it.... “L'istra shook her head. “There's no telling how many times Father will have to say no to them before their feelings are hurt and they stalk out of here."

  "They do that often?” Adon chuckled as he said it.

  L'istra wished she could return his amused grin. Her contentment had fled as soon as she recalled why the priest had returned to Parses. The war with the valley kingdoms had been a convenient excuse to send them away. “The Hiskarlit and their demi-god—"

  "Ubu,” Adon offered.

  Nona snorted and pressed both hands over her mouth, a sure sign she wanted to blurt something highly amusing and highly critical. L'istra felt a little better.

  "Ubu is a childish demi-god, and so are his people. It's said that no one invades Hiskarlit because of the unpleasant aromas and unclean conditions of the people and their cities. If their collections of mud huts and their wandering herds of swine can be called cities.... “She sighed, her attempt at humor failing miserably. “The Hiskarlit are so sure everyone is a fool who chooses to listen to the commands of the Unseen when Ubu commands otherwise—well, when they are refused what they want often enough, they warp the situation so they can stalk away and salve their pride at the same time. In perhaps a moon quarter, they'll vacate their embassy and tell everyone they meet that they wouldn't take me if we paid them all the gold and emeralds and rubies in all the temples of the Unseen."

  "You?” Adon's face went cold and hard and his voice took on a stillness that made something deep inside L'istra vibrate pleasantly. “They're demanding you?"

  "They've been demanding me as a holy bride for Ubu, consummated in the body of his high priest, of course, for the last fourteen years.” She shrugged and picked up her eating prong to dig at the carcass of the hen, to look for more meat. Not that L'istra wanted anything else to eat, but she couldn't look at the cold fury in Adon's eyes.

  What had she done to make him so protective of her? Could there be anything at all possessive in his anger, something more than the friendship they had developed? Her belly roiled and fought with the pleasant warmth between her legs as she admitted the truth. She wanted Adon to want her as a woman.

  And that would never happen, as long as he wore that collar.

  Chapter Five

  Adon blamed his inability to sleep on the heavy spices in that evening's meal and the distress L'istra concealed. He was sitting by the lily pond, trying to read by the moonlight, when he felt the trembling in the air that he associated with L'istra in pain.

  He tried her door before alerting Nona. Adon stumbled when his questing shove on the door pushed it open, and he nearly fell into the room. L'istra whimpered and started to lift her head, and he stood still, terrified she would open her eyes and see him.

  Sleep held her in the bed. He waited until she whimpered again before he dared to creep into the room. Calling up all his skill, he rested his hands on her forehead and shoulder as gently as if they were feathers.

  Hush, little one, he whispered in his mind. It's only a dream. You are safe. I will let no one harm you.

  Adon didn't have time to draw a breath as L'istra's dream opened wide and swallowed him whole.

  A woman screamed and the sound of running feet echoed off high stone walls that gleamed with damp and moonlight. Adon stood still. This wasn't his dream. He had nothing to fear.

  A little girl shrieked utter terror. That little girl was L'istra. The coppery salt stink of blood and heat wrapped around him as her memories wove through this dream, like poisoned wine spilled on his food. Adon ran toward the sound.

  The little girl screamed again, and the woman answered, reduced by terror to mindless animal shrieks. Adon fought not to let himself be caught in that sound, in pity for the woman. He was here for L'istra.

  Adon landed hard on damp pavement that steamed in the heat. A man swung a long, cruelly curved blade in his joined fists. He laughed, an amused, cheerful sound, so utterly sane that Adon felt chilled.

  The blade swung down and around and hacked hard into the neck of a woman who knelt, torn robes spread like feathers around her. She made no sound as she collapsed and blood spurted to join the blood spattering her torn robe.

  "Linny!” a child screamed as the wall opened and disgorged her onto the pavement. She was barefoot and wore only a child's sleeping robe. She had L'istra's eyes, and her hair hung past her waist in a cascade of curls.

  She ran to the dead woman, but the man flung the child down. She lay stunned, eyes wide, terror and adult fury making her face white. Her limbs were as limp as rags as the man ripped her robe off and spread her legs wide. His clothes vanished, revealing an arousal as big as an elephant's, black, dripping a glowing green liquid that hit the hot pavement and hissed.

  Curse you all, Adon thought to whatever demi-gods might be watching. He had walked through enough dreams to help his patients, he knew the rules. The rules could rot, for all he cared. He refused to let L'istra suffer.

  Fighting the enemy was useless. The child's attacker wouldn't vanish until she either woke or she grew strong enough to fight him in her dream. But Adon had the power to help L'istra escape.

  He gathered up all his strength of will, all the magic left to him after a long day of healing and teaching, and made the
dream shift around him, so he knelt by the child now. Child-L'istra went perfectly still and stared up at him, and Adon nearly faltered at the terror and old pain in her eyes.

  "It's all right,” he told the child, and wrapped his arms around her as far as he could. “I won't let him hurt you."

  Daring, he lifted. The child's body grew light as air in his arms, meaning she believed him. He shifted her onto his lap, rested her head on his shoulder, and wrapped his arms more securely around her.

  The dream faded and he opened his eyes to find L'istra curled up against him, his arms tight around her, while he half-knelt, half-reclined against the bed. The princess slept, tears shimmering in the lamplight on the ends of her eyelashes, and the lines of hurt and fear smoothing out around her mouth and eyes. Adon closed his eyes and bowed his head to rest against hers, and kissed the sweaty curls.

  It didn't take much thinking to find answers to the mystery of the dream's circumstances. Princess L'innea had been given as a political bride to Prince Mitterand of Gohl. Two years after the wedding, rumors reached the Emperor that his oldest daughter was ill with homesickness. When L'innea asked for her little sister's company, the Emperor agreed, sending L'istra in the spring, to be brought home in the fall before the passes into Gohl were blocked with snow.

  When fall came, Mitterand sent the news that someone had killed L'innea and kidnapped L'istra. His soldiers had yet to find her. A moon quarter later, Princess L'istra came home under her own power, without guards, without any food or shelter but what she could find, and she told a different story. The Parsadi Empire declared war against Gohl. The soldiers credited L'istra with the victory. They fought for her, inspired by the child who refused to succumb.

  Adon held the princess as close as he dared. The malevolent dream explained so much. He admired the princess more than ever, and ached for her. What could he do to help her?

  Adon sat in the dark room, waiting, holding L'istra until her heartbeats slowed to the ordinary pace of dreamless sleep. He augmented that with a touch of healing magic, to guide her sleeping mind away from that painful subject. Knowing what he did now, he guessed that the Hiskarlit priest's demand for her as a bride for their priest-king had awakened memories and her old fears and pains.

  Adon arranged the princess in her bed, tucking the covers snugly around her. Without thinking, he brushed a kiss across her forehead before he left the room.

  He stood still in the moonlight pouring down into the courtyard and shuddered. What had come over him? Yes, the princess was kind to him, but he should never forget his place as her peace hostage. He was little better than a slave, even if Hialatus treated him as an equal and valued his skills and training and knowledge. It was bad enough he had gone into L'istra's bedroom without her permission, worse yet that he had touched her, but those trespasses could be explained away under the duties of a healer. He tended to her mind as well as her body.

  Kissing her, even an innocent, chaste kiss, such as he would give a child to soothe her after a nightmare—how could he excuse that? Yes, she was beautiful, and any man who could resist holding her, touching her, tasting her skin in a kiss was a paragon of self-control. Or a eunuch. And wasn't he a eunuch, as long as he wore that collar?

  Adon knew better than to linger here. Nona had instincts as sharp as any healer's, and she would soon sense him standing in the moonlight and rise from her bed to see what was wrong in her domain. He went to bed, and couldn't understand why he paused in the doorway of his room and looked across the courtyard, to L'istra's closed door, feeling heavy-hearted and yet strangely satisfied.

  Perhaps the collar affected his mind as well as his body?

  * * * *

  Three peace hostages ended up in the army infirmary the next afternoon, and Hialatus sent Adon to tend them. Eber was one of them.

  Two were strangers to him, meaning they had come in earlier during the war with the ten valley kingdoms. Judging from the good cloth and bright colors of their clothes, they had been assigned to wealthy, noble families who didn't feel it necessary to put their peace hostages in distinctive clothes. Eber, on the other hand, wore rough clothes; loose pants with frayed, uneven bottoms and a loose shirt stained by sweat and ground-in grime. Adon didn't think those sweat stains had been contributed by the prince. It had to gall Eber to wear clothes someone else had worn before him.

  Eber had a swollen, discolored eye and mouth. Judging from the blood clotting his nose and hostage collar and the swelling of his nose, it was likely broken. That would be something else for the vain prince to complain about.

  "Aren't those collars supposed to stop you from hurting each other?” Adon asked as he poured water into basins and gestured for the other two men, who only had a few scratches and bruised knuckles, to wash themselves.

  "They did,” the shorter of the two said. Judging by his nasal twang, he was from the river city, Kolkis. “When we collapsed, after just two blows, our friends finished the job."

  "Ah.” Adon bit his tongue and turned away to pull out healing ointment and bandages. So, Eber hadn't learned anything. His arrogance had only grown worse, so he had foolishly angered people who weren't restrained by the collars.

  Eber simply sat and glared at him and refused to move when Adon gestured for him to use the basin to wash the worst of the blood and dirt away.

  "You aren't crippled and your arms aren't broken,” Adon said. “Unless someone broke your skull, so it's unwise to bow your head, you can tend yourself."

  "How dare you?” Eber growled.

  "I dare because it was your father's stupidity that got everyone else into the war. You encouraged your father's rebellion. You used your glib tongue to convince the ambassadors from the other kingdoms to rebel, when common sense made them hesitate. I dare because it's your fault we're all here.” Adon slapped a wet washcloth in Eber's face, just as the prince opened his mouth to bellow.

  The other two men muffled their laughter. From the humor in their eyes and the speculative looks they gave him, Adon wondered if he would have visitors later. Perhaps he had made some new friends. Eber fumed and glared but said nothing while Adon tended to his broken nose and cut lip and blackening eye.

  "Is he almost done?” A city guard stepped through the door. He looked around the room, empty now of all but Adon and the prince. “The other two left?"

  "I'm sorry. Was I supposed to keep them here?"

  "No. I just thought they'd take more time away from their duties.” He nodded and offered Adon a crooked grin. “I guess it isn't so bad for them, serving merchants. This one, though.” He shook his head and wouldn't look at Eber, just hooked his thumb over his shoulder at the prince. “Here, you, ready to go back to the dung cart?"

  "It has to be vastly superior to being that idiot princess’ plaything,” Eber muttered.

  Adon snarled, both hands reaching for Eber's neck before he realized what he did. The soldier backhanded the exiled prince, knocking loose the plaster of herbs on his face. Adon gasped as a jolt of fire followed by numbness shot through his body. He went to his knees and would have slammed his face into the ground, but the soldier caught him.

  "This one isn't worth it,” he said in a cheerful voice and helped Adon get upright again. “Just you sit for a few minutes and you'll be fine.” He winked at Adon before turning to bend and yank Eber to his feet.

  Hialatus somehow heard about the whole encounter before Adon could walk to his superior's workroom. He greeted Adon with a grin and offered him a cup of watered wine.

  "Leaves a bad taste in your mouth, doesn't it?” he said.

  "Too busy to notice otherwise,” Adon muttered. He settled in a chair, gratefully, before drinking. After the first mouthful, a new thought occurred to him. “How do you know?"

  "It's required for those who work the most with the hostages to try the collars, so we know what it's like. So we know someone isn't malingering after getting a good, hard rebuke for misbehavior,” the healer added with a wink. “You earned a good
dose of respect today, leaping to L'istra's defense."

  "The other man got there first.” Adon grinned at his superior and nearly laughed when the movement revealed a tingling sensation in his lips where the effects of the collar hadn't quite worn off.

  "It's the intent that matters most. And you had no duty to stand for her in anything."

  "She's treated me well. She's my friend.” He snorted and tipped the cup back to drain it before continuing. “And do you know how Nona would scold if she heard what happened and I didn't do anything?"

  Hialatus laughed, long and loud.

  L'istra wasn't laughing when Adon returned to her quarters that evening. She leaped from the couch set next to the lily pool, where she lay reading a scroll by torchlight. She reached out both hands as she hurried to meet him, and Adon wondered if she was going to shake him for being an idiot.

  "Are you all right?"

  "Yes, Princess. Fine.” He quelled the urge to laugh. “Eber didn't touch me."

  Something leaped in his chest, hot and exultant. L'istra had worried about him! The next moment, his spirits tripped as he wondered exactly what story had reached her ears.

  "Thrashing idiots is a waste of time. Especially if you're wearing that collar."

  "Will it stop me from protecting myself?” Adon thumped the wall next to him, oblivious to the pain for a moment. “That's why I'm unable to leave the palace, isn't it? I'm protected here, but I'm unable to protect myself if I go outside. I'm nothing but a caged bird."

  "When you start singing like one, and when you're totally useless, like your Prince Eber, then you can consider yourself a bird."

  "Oh, yes, I'm useful. I forgot that. But I'm still only a pet.” Adon couldn't understand the rage boiling in him or why he spilled such ridiculous statements. Maybe it was the anger in L'istra's eyes that fed the stupidity that choked his brain.