by Terina Adams
The longer we moved through the tunnel, the wilder my imagination grew. A scream welled up my throat and my mind slipped from my control as images of being buried under the mountain of rock above our heads raged across my vision. I gripped Cerac’s hand tightly and reeled him close toward me. Staring at his face was the only thing that kept me here and not floating away on some crazy fear.
“I don’t know if I can go on.”
Cerac bent down so our faces were close. “We have no choice, Rya. We’ve come this far.” I could feel the warmth from the candle held close to my elbow.
He wrapped me to his chest with his free hand. “I should have thought of this. I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that to me. You don’t need to,” I mumbled into his jacket.
“Good, you’re arguing with me, which means you haven’t completely lost your head.”
“I feel better when we’re close.”
“Then we will continue like this.”
A chuckle rose up even through my fear, and the chuckle brightened a place inside that had turned dark.
Cerac meant what he said. He kept me tucked up under his arm and close to his side as he guided us further through the tunnel. After a few moments of my arms dangling down by my side, I plucked up the courage to wrap the closest around his waist. My hand touched muscle, which quivered under my fingers. This was not the first time I’d walked with my body joined this close to a man, but Morick and I had done things to make walking arm and arm a natural instinct. Would pressing my body close to Cerac shatter the barriers that kept him from my bed?
“Your trembling has stopped.”
I was having too many pleasant thoughts to be able to answer him straight away. “I think I’m becoming accustomed to the tunnel.”
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye and smiled at his smile.
“Being able to hold you this close makes using the tunnel worth it. In future we don’t have to go this way if it worries you so much, but we will have to be careful with our meetings. Hunrus is watching us closely. I caught him looking at me watch you the other day at the fight. You should not have to suffer Hunrus’s barbed sarcasm. If he thought you nothing more than a servant girl to me he would leave you alone.”
“Oh,” was all I could bring myself to say, rather than asking him what he did feel for me. It was safer that I never asked.
“He’s never bothered to show any interest in my activities before. I must be revealing too much.” He glanced down at me as we walked. “But do not think I’m ashamed of being with you, Rya.”
“I know you’re not.”
“I do not trust my brother. He has my father’s ear. I fear he would do anything to prevent my happiness.” He peered down at me. “And I would do anything to keep you safe.”
It was lucky the tunnel was dark for it saved me the embarrassment of meeting Cerac’s scrutiny with the flush that was heating my face. His endearing words should not be uttered to me, a servant. We existed in two separate worlds that were never meant to be united. Wealthy men or royalty took servants as lovers not brides. If I allowed us to continue I would seal my fate to his for as long as he wanted. A servant could not make the choice to turn her back on the King’s son if he turned cruel or love died. But then, did any woman have the freedom to make her own destiny separate from a man? Cerac was not mine in the way a man should be for a woman, and he never would be.
“I am truly grateful that you are willing to do this for me. You’re risking the king’s wrath by training me. If you want to stop I understand.”
“No. I promised to teach you to fight, and I never break a promise. Besides you seem to get yourself into enough trouble, and I would feel much happier knowing you could defend yourself. I was even thinking of having the smithy forge you a sword of your own.”
“You were?” I gasped.
“Not a sword really, more like a dagger, for you have nowhere to conceal a sword, and it’s not the done thing for a woman to carry a sword. But you can do a lot of damage with a dagger if you know how. I can teach you exactly where to strike for certain death.”
I swallowed. “I wasn’t expecting to go that far. I’m not sure I could kill a man.”
“It is not an easy thing to be sure. Killing can weigh heaving on a person’s heart. But you have asked me to teach you to fight, Rya, and so there is no avoiding it. You would choose your own life I’m sure if it came down to it.”
“I never thought of it like that. But you’re right. I asked for your help because I wanted the choice.
“And I will give you that. I don’t want to see you a victim like you were to those men in the alley.”
I looked in front at the darkness.
“Careful now. There are steps ahead in front of us.”
“Where have we being going all this time.”
“You will see.” He slipped his arm from my waist and took my hand.
Close now, I could see a dull, thin stream of light running along the tunnel floor, and up the base of the first step. I used the cold craggy wall and Cerac’s hand for my stability as I ascended the steep steps in the semi darkness with only the small candlelight as a guide. Soon a fresh hint of air wafted across my face, so I looked up rather than at where I placed my feet. The slim line of light was just above my head. The trap door creaked and groaned its years of immobility with a few shoves from Cerac to encourage it wider. Sods of earth fell onto my hair and shoulders as the sunlight burst through. I shook my hair and dusted my shoulders then took great lungfuls of air, grateful to see the sky. We were on the outside of the southern wall, behind a small mound, climbing out of the ground. A fielded slope spread down into a thick forest. The dense canopy shielded most of the sun, but a few shafts of light managed to penetrate through the gloom, creating curtains of yellow.
“How did you know this tunnel was here?”
Cerac left the trap door open and sat down on the gentle slope leaving his legs stretched out in front of him. “I stumbled on it as a young man when I first came to the arena. My tutors had cast me out, father wasn’t interested in my daily affairs as long as I kept out of trouble, and so I would explore in my spare time.”
“Is this the only tunnel?”
“The only one that leaves the city, yes. No good creating too many entrances or your defenses are vulnerable.”
It was totally off the topic, but I wanted to know more about Cerac’s life. “I know you said your mother was dying, but did you ever try looking for her or remnants of her life when you were old enough?”
“Many times. Few people were prepared to talk to me. The king had abandoned her and so the people chose to as well, or maybe they were afraid of what would happen if the king found out they had helped me. There was also this?” He rubbed his inner wrist over his sleeve where the mark was. “They keep their tongue when the king’s around, but if you are not under the king’s protection than the people’s opinions can be cruel. As far as everyone was concerned my mother was a whore. It mattered not that she was without power to say no to the king.”
I placed my hand over his “You have the respect of everyone at the arena, unlike your brother. And respect fosters loyalty.”
“And what about you, Rya? Does that include your?”
“If I did not respect you, I would never have asked for your help, and I would not be here now. But I am sure that makes little difference to you.”
“On the contrary, it makes all the difference to me. There are few I respect more than you, so it means a lot to me to know you feel the same.”
If only we were back in the tunnel where the candlelight did a good job of concealing our expressions, leaving us soft edges and faded outlines to surmise what the other was feeling. In the late afternoon light there was no disguising the depth in Cerac’s eyes, which swirled like a storm bursting to break and unleash the pent up energy curbed by years of denial, nor could I hide my own, which would reflect the stirrings in my heart. It wasn’t safe to be honest an
d raw.
The awkwardness became unbearable. It was not like we had uttered words of love, but it felt as though we were touching very close to something forbidden and dangerous. Helna’s warning to stay away from Cerac rang through my ears. For my safety, I should listen. The shrewd eyes of Hunrus followed my every move when I appeared in the king’s box. But it wasn’t just me that kept his attention. Cerac was as much in Hunrus’s sights. Guilt and embarrassment had made me nervous every time I served in the royal box. And the more I had tried to keep myself from looking at Cerac the more I stared with shy embarrassment, knowing all the while the prince’s menacing glare caught every slip up and darting glimpse I dared to take.
Cerac suddenly leapt up. “The sun will disappear soon.” He offered me his hand and pulled me to my feet, then held on longer than was needed once I was standing. The flare of good feelings that pooled deep in my abdomen was so intense my breath stalled. I was drowning. Never had I felt so acutely aware of another so close to me. The soft skin of his palm lay warm and inviting in mine. The distance between our bodies could be erased in less than one step. Did I dare to make the last move?
I took my hand back and covered the awkwardness by dusting down my clothes although there was nothing there to warrant the attention.
“This is as good a place as any,” he announced, saving the moment, and drew his sword, then indicated I should do the same.
16
In the two weeks since my last lesson, and I’d thought of little else but being with Cerac, watching him use his sword. He moved with lethal fluidity. I’d replayed the scene over and over in my mind as if somehow I could absorb the way he moved and make it my own. What I tried to keep out of the memory was the way he smelt when we’d been close and the fathomless intensity of his eyes.
“Oh, Morick,” I sighed as I stared at my thighs, fattening up nicely under Helna’s vigilant eye and wholesome servings. What ended up on the warriors’ table ended up in our bellies as well, Helna saw to that, but it was Cerac who granted her the extra coin in her purse to ensure it was so.
“I do not want to dishonor your memory, nor do I want to let you go. But I have no choice.”
I bowed my head as I remembered Morick’s touch. His calloused hands running through my hair, over my stomach, down between my legs. I closed my eyes and squeezed them tight in a pathetic attempt to ward against the memory of Cerac’s finger tracing a line on my inner wrist where a mark would be had I had one. Two weeks later and I remembered the tingle of my skin like it was happening now.
I opened my eyes to see the dark purple mark from the hog’s horn, something I no longer had to worry about. Even the bruising on my left cheek had settled. There had been many questions when I’d first returned to the kitchen that day. Sophren fussed, but behind her, I caught the stern expression on Helna’s face. She believed not one word I said. And for my lies, she refused to offer me any of her salve. I wore the bruise as a reminder of why I’d asked for Cerac’s help.
My candle was low, and so I dressed in my loose pants and opened my bedroom door before I went back to blow the candle out. The flames from the torches braced to the walls danced patterns down the corridor. The sweetness of the sap as it burned reminded me of my village and my long trudges home late at night, carrying a torch dipped in red birch sap, after having spent the evening at Larissa’s preparing our stock for sale the next day. Sophren said the castle rooms were lit with giant candles rather than flaming torches, which would cost a fortune to acquire.
With the sound of padding feet rushing up behind me, I turned to find Sophren appearing out of the darkness beyond the flames. “Is that all you’re wearing?”
“It’s all I have.”
“Oh, lord, of course. I’m sorry. I should’ve remembered.”
Sophren wore a long dress of deep green, thick linen. While it had none of the elegance and finery of the dresses the court women wore, it tapered at the waist and hugged across her chest, exposing her generous curves.
“This is the only fancy piece of clothing I have, otherwise I would lend you something of mine.”
“It’s all right. I’ve got no one to impress.”
“Hmm…we will have to change that, now won’t we? Penris has a few friends—”
I laughed. “Don’t you dare.”
Sophren placed a hand on mine. “My sweet girl, we’ve grown close this past moon, and so I feel it earns me a certain right to have my say. You, Rya, must turn aside your loneliness. You can’t spend the rest of your life living in memories. I’m sorry that you were taken against your will, but you did not die. This is your new life. And it is time you lived it.”
With the growing silence, Sophren hauled me to a stop. “I’m sorry, have I upset you with my frankness?”
“No, not at all. The silence was because you’re right.”
She linked arms with me again. “See, you just have to listen to me. And now we will go and enjoy ourselves and I will introduce you to some of Penris’s friends.”
“Hang on. I said you were right, but I did not say you could matchmake me. Give me time.”
She huffed. “Okay, just a little.”
By day, the servants never lingered around the arena or the castle. These places were the domain of the privileged. But they rarely left the castle walls when the sun fell, leaving the fountain and the expansive cobbled streets an exotic playground for the servants. According to Sophren, the vendors and market stall holders knew this. They also knew about the coin in our pockets, generously bestowed by the master of the arena, and so the courtiers’ playground became our own. It had been Millia, emerging slowly from her self-imposed cage with my gentle encouragement, who described the flame-lit streets and public square filled with raucous activity.
“Penris is waiting for me by the fountain.” She dropped her linked arm only to grab my hand and pulled me along.
“You do not have to babysit me.”
She smacked my arm playfully. “Of course we do. I don’t want to hear your complaints.”
“But if we’re only going as far as the public square, I won’t get lost. I know my way back from there.”
“You cannot go out on your first night of freedom alone. I won’t allow it.”
I smiled to myself and gave up the argument.
With the chill of the new season fast approaching, the night air found all the places where it could slip under my pants and shirt. I’d thought about grabbing the small blanket at the end of my bed but didn’t favor the idea of carrying it around. Now I wished I had.
Outside the arena walls, Sophren increased her steps, drawn by the promise of seeing Penris. I kept her pace, butterflies of excitement building in my stomach. As described, the square was alit with long-poled torches and filled with stalls and milling people. Near the fountain, two musicians kept a lively beat and had gathered a crowd of dancers. The buoyant chatter and laughter filled my heart with tingles. It was like a hand-binding celebration back home, only on a much bigger scale.
A tall man separated himself from a small group of young men and waved to us. I’d not recognized Penris in the flame light, clean, his hair brushed back and dressed in, perhaps, his smartest pants and shirt. Sophren squeezed my hand in her excitement, dragging me behind her as she headed straight for him. The other boys in the group watched us approach, their eyes skimming the unavailable woman of the two of us and settling on me.
Sophren threw herself into Penris’s arms and they kissed like there was no one else around. I glanced elsewhere, shocked at her brazen public kiss and wishing I could think of something smart to say to stop the other three men roaming their eyes over me as if expecting me to do the same.
Finally able to separate herself from her lover, Sophren grabbed my hand again. “This is Rya. She’s new to the city.” She pulled me close. “We’ve got to look after her tonight because this is her first night out, of course, and I want her to enjoy it. And with Hallow’s Eve fast upon us and everyone locked away g
ood and tight, we have to enjoy ourselves now.”
A stout man, half the height of Penris but broader across the chest, came around to the other side of me and gently pried me from Sophren’s hug. “There’s no need to worry about her not enjoying her night,” he said as he slipped an arm across my shoulder. He smelt of sawn wood and a soft tinge of sweat, the way Morick would always smell. Beyond the smell, though, there was little else in common between Morick and this man. Morick would never presume such familiarity. It cheapened a woman, and he would never do that.
I slipped his hand from my shoulder and smiled at him as I said, “I am able to walk unassisted, thank you. But it was kind of you to offer.”
The politeness in my voice left him with no cutting words to speak.
Sophren beamed one of her generous smiles at me, then scolded the man who’d lassoed me. “Serves you right, Jacson. Next time you’ll keep your hands to yourself unless invited otherwise.”
She slung her arm around Penris’s waist and turned to me. “Stick beside me, and I will protect you from greedy hands.” She winked at me as Penris led her away.
I slipped behind them a step but followed where they went. We wove between the stalls, stopping to try some of the savory meats or sweet knots of pastry. Beyond that we came to carts laden with fragranced soaps, oils for a lady’s hair, stones embedded in small knotted wreaths as jewelry, baskets woven with soft reed and colored candles of assorted sizes. These were not things I’d seen on display at the market stalls the day Sophren and I had visited Roberto. Freedom night was a night for indulgences.
Sophren smelt all the soap and oils on the cart, but the one next door caught my eye. I detached myself from our party and wandered over. The city was filled with the brown of cobbled streets and stone buildings and I’d yet to see any hint of bright color that wasn’t worn as clothing or hung from a line. The stall adjacent to where we stood was full of flowers, in a rainbow of colors, something I’d only ever seen in the fields back home.
