“Thirsty, I take it?” said Ridmark.
Tamlin smiled. “The second is for you, Lord Ridmark.” He handed Ridmark the goblet. “Let us drink to victory.”
“A worthy toast,” said Ridmark. They clinked goblets and drank. Ridmark sipped at the wine and blinked in surprise. It was much stronger than he expected. He lowered the glass, his mouth tingling, and saw that both Tamlin and Aegeus had drained their goblets.
“You do realize,” said Ridmark, “that the army is going to start marching north tomorrow. Traveling with a hangover is not the most enjoyable experience.”
Aegeus grinned. “The hangover is part of the tradition, Lord Ridmark.” Already he and Tamlin had claimed another pair of goblets. Ridmark suspected that both the young Arcanius Knights intended to get as drunk as they could manage.
They would certainly regret that tomorrow.
“Some traditions are more trouble than they are worth,” said Ridmark.
Like concubinage, he thought.
“And some are not,” said Tamlin. There was already a flush to his face. That wine was strong stuff. “If you will forgive the observation, Lord Ridmark, I think you could benefit from a night of hard drinking. You are a man with heavy burdens. Surely something could lighten them.”
“Like a woman,” said Aegeus, eyeing one of the serving women.
“Indeed,” said Ridmark. He took another sip of the wine if only to shut them up. The gambit worked since Tamlin and Aegeus were immediately distracted by the arrival of a group of women at the other end of the hall. Unless Ridmark missed his guess, they were the wives and concubines and daughters of some of Hektor’s Companion knights.
He spotted Kalussa in their midst. She was wearing a slightly different dress from the one she had worn yesterday, her hair arranged in a different pattern. She was a long way away, but Ridmark thought she looked drawn, even pale, as if she had taken ill.
Ridmark looked away before she saw his gaze.
A saurtyri servant went past, and Ridmark set his unfinished goblet on the tray before Tamlin or Aegeus could notice.
“There’s Sir Tramond,” said Tamlin, pointing out the chief men of Hektor’s court. “Sir Arminios as well.”
“Will Earl Vimroghast be here?” said Ridmark. He had liked the jotunmiri earl, though, like all the jotunmiri, he tended towards long-winded speeches.
“I’m afraid not,” said Tamlin. “They have their own feast in one of the lower courtyards. Jotunmiri liquor is too strong for humans. They say ours tastes like water.” He took another drink. Was that his second goblet or had he started on a third?
“They’re not joking,” said Aegeus. “I took a sip of it once, and I thought I’d go blind.”
Ridmark listened to their banter with half an ear, nodding when appropriate. He hoped the food would be served soon. Tamlin had said that the toasts usually followed the food, so once Hektor had toasted his men, Ridmark thought he could slip away with causing offense or somehow making the knights of Owyllain think that he planned to overthrow their King. Hopefully, he would have figured out where Calliande had gone by then.
Just where the devil had she gone? Ridmark was about to call one of the pages over and ask if they knew where the Keeper was when both Tamlin and Aegeus looked to the side at the same time, almost like hounds who had caught a scent.
Ridmark followed their gaze and snorted in amusement.
Nearly fifty women in reunion dresses had entered the hall from the side doors, splitting up and heading towards various knights and Arcanii.
“Ah,” said Tamlin.
“This is a tradition as well, I take it?” said Ridmark.
“It is,” said Tamlin. “It is so the wives and concubines can comfort their husbands before the battle. And if a woman conceives a child on the eve of the army’s march, it is considered a sign of God’s favor.” He looked to the side and frowned as if trying to place a memory.
“Heh,” said Aegeus. Somehow he had drunk more than Tamlin already. “Comfort. That’s a good word for it. I always feel very comforted after.”
“I thought they were called reunion dresses,” said Ridmark.
Tamlin shrugged. “I didn’t pick the names.”
“Fair enough,” said Ridmark.
Tamlin was looking at a slender woman in a reunion dress, one who was walking right towards him. One of Tamlin’s former lovers, perhaps? Well, Tamlin might not have to wait long for “comfort” this evening. A flicker of amusement went through Ridmark. If the former lover was vengeful, Tamlin might have to…
Two facts penetrated Ridmark’s mind like the impact of arrows.
First, the woman wasn’t walking towards Tamlin. She was walking towards Ridmark.
Second, it was Calliande.
Wrapped up in his own thoughts, he hadn’t recognized her, but to be fair, he had never seen her dressed like this. The reunion dress fit her well, revealing the shape of what it concealed, and the firelight gave the exposed skin of her arms and shoulders and stomach a gentle glow. Jewels glinted on her fingers and wrists and ears. She had done up her hair, and it shone like a golden crown atop her head, and tricks of makeup had made her mouth redder, her blue eyes enormous in her face.
She stared at him like the rest of the world had ceased to exist.
“Perhaps we should greet Sir Tramond, Aegeus,” said Tamlin.
“Eh?” said Aegeus. “Oh, yes, right. Good evening to you, Lord Ridmark, Lady Calliande.”
The two men departed, and Calliande drew close, wrapped her arms around Ridmark, and kissed him.
“What’s this?” he said once she drew back. His voice had gone hoarse, and her eyes sparkled as she smiled.
“Do you like the dress?” said Calliande. “The Queen loaned it to me, along with the jewels.”
“Yes,” said Ridmark. He felt the skin of her back beneath his hands, warm and soft. “It…took me off guard. I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Well.” Calliande stepped back, grasping his hands. “I wouldn’t wear anything like this in Andomhaim. But, well, we are in Owyllain. Not all the customs are unpleasant. And this is surprisingly comfortable. It fits well, too. See?”
She turned in a circle, the skirt flaring a little, and Ridmark would not have noticed if the Palace of the High Kings had burned down around him at that moment.
“Yes,” said Ridmark.
Calliande grasped his hand. “Walk with me.”
“Where?” said Ridmark.
“Not here,” said Calliande.
She grasped his hand, and Ridmark could not look away from her. He had seen her dressed as the Keeper in a fine gown, he had seen her in traveling clothes, and he had seen her naked, but right now he could not look away from her.
The banquet forgotten, they walked from the great hall and into the night. Five of the thirteen moons were in the cloudless sky along with a blaze of stars. Calliande led him up a flight of stairs that climbed the Palace’s terraces, and they came to a broad garden near the Palace’s apex, quiet and secluded, overlooking the sea.
Calliande turned, the light of the moons and the stars painting her in silver light, and she took his face in both hands and kissed him. His arms went around her, and his hands slid down her back and over the smooth silk covering her hips. It would be so easy to pull the garments from her…
A flicker of doubt went through him as he remembered the last time they had tried this. But she had been half-mad with grief then. She hadn’t been like this, her eyes wide with desire, the curves of her chest rising and falling with the rapid draw of her breath.
“Wait,” said Ridmark. “The last time…”
“No,” murmured Calliande. “No more talking. The time for words is done.”
She kissed him again, harder this time, and Ridmark gave in.
###
Calliande helped Ridmark out of the last of his clothing, and he drew her down to the cool grass.
She was nervous, more nervous than the first time they had
lain together as husband and wife. They had done this thousands of times, but she felt clumsy, almost fearful. What if she had been injured too badly?
But as it turned out, her fears were groundless. The last time had just been too soon after the ordeal of Joanna’s birth. Her body remembered what to do, even if she did not. Soon her arms and legs were coiled around Ridmark, her breathing fast and shallow. When she finished, it felt as if warmth exploded through her, and her back arched like a drawn bow. Had she not buried her face in Ridmark’s shoulder, no doubt her cry would have drawn half of Aenesium.
She had missed this. God, God, she had forgotten how much she needed him.
After, she lay against Ridmark as he caught his breath, one arm flung over his chest and her right leg entangled with his. Sweat glistened in the moonlight on his forehead and chest, and she wasn’t sure if it was his or hers. It didn’t matter.
Once his breathing had gotten back under control, she leaned up and kissed him.
“I missed you,” she whispered.
“I never left,” he said.
“I know,” said Calliande. “It’s just…”
“I understand,” said Ridmark. One hand brushed her hair. It had come loose during their recent exertions.
She kissed him again. “Let’s never wait that long again.”
“Not if I can help it,” said Ridmark, and she sighed in contentment and rested against him.
Ridmark Arban was not a man for idle boasting. He was ready again sooner than she had thought.
###
Rypheus stood near the dais, watching the guests of the banquet take their seats, watching his half-brothers and half-sisters move near the high table. Soon Hektor Pendragon would arrive, and the banquet would begin in earnest.
He felt the cold metal of the Sign waiting against his chest, the vial of poison grasped in his hand.
Tonight. Tonight, after waiting so long, he would show the power of the New God to all Owyllain.
And he would, at last, reveal Hektor Pendragon for the weakling and fool he really was.
***
Chapter 17: Premonitions
Kalussa kept a polite smile on her face, but behind that smile, she brooded.
What had gone wrong? What had she done wrong?
She must have done something wrong.
Why had Ridmark refused her? Kalussa couldn’t understand it. She knew that she was pretty, knew that she drew the eye of men. She knew that Ridmark liked her, that he hadn’t lain with Calliande in a long time. Kalussa liked his sons, and if she was honest with herself, she was starting to fall in love with Ridmark. When she had gone to him on the balcony, Kalussa had been absolutely certain that the night would end with Ridmark taking her to his bed, and that her father would announce that she was Ridmark’s concubine at the banquet.
Instead, he had gotten angry with her.
Why? She didn’t want to steal him from Calliande. She didn’t want to take him from his children. Why had he gotten so angry? Had he found her repulsive, insulted that she desired him? Had he considered her loathsome all along? Or maybe he had found some other woman to take as a concubine, and Ridmark and Calliande had been laughing at Kalussa behind her back all this time?
She knew that was irrational, that the most likely reason was that Ridmark meant what he said. Kalussa had never lacked for confidence, but her surety in herself had taken a sharp blow. She had been so sure that she would awake in Ridmark’s bed this morning.
Instead, she feared that she had offended both Ridmark and Calliande. Perhaps he would follow through with his threat, take his family, and leave Aenesium. Then Kalussa’s folly would deny her father two powerful allies, two allies who might have helped him defeat the mighty army marching from the north.
So Kalussa stood and made polite small talk with the other guests at the banquet as the great hall filled, though her mind was a thousand miles away, trying to figure out what she had done wrong.
More guests arrived. She spotted Sir Tramond from Myllene and Sir Arminios. The bishop of Aenesium arrived, along with her half-brother Tertius. Kalussa despised some of her half-siblings, but she always got on well with Tertius. It was refreshing to talk to a man utterly certain in himself and in his faith. Perhaps that was why she had been attracted to Ridmark from the beginning.
There was a crowd around Rypheus, but there was always a crowd around Rypheus. Everyone loved him, both inside the royal family and without, and he had a knack for inspiring people. Kalussa suddenly wanted to talk to him. Maybe he could make her feel better.
She turned and spotted Ridmark at the other end of the hall.
Her throat went dry with anxiety. Ridmark was standing with Sir Tamlin and Sir Aegeus. While the two Arcanii had donned finery for the banquet, Ridmark still wore his dark elven armor. It might have been Kalussa’s imagination, but Ridmark looked grimmer than usual. Should she ignore him? Go to him and apologize? Pretend like nothing had happened?
A large group of women in reunion dresses walked across the great hall, blocking Kalussa’s sight of Ridmark. Perhaps that was just as well. Maybe that would let her collect her wits before she did something foolish. The crowd of women dispersed to their husbands one by one. A striking blond woman in a reunion dress crossed the hall, and as Kalussa watched, she walked to Ridmark and kissed him.
Kalussa’s first reaction was incredulity.
Hurt anger followed that.
Then Kalussa blinked in surprise as she recognized the blond woman in the reunion dress.
Tamlin, as ever, was quicker on the uptake than his boorish friend, and he steered Aegeus away, leaving Calliande and Ridmark alone. The Shield Knight and the Keeper spoke for a moment and then left hand in hand.
Kalussa watched them go. It was obvious what they were going to do next.
And Kalussa felt…
She felt happy for Ridmark. He adored Calliande. Anyone could see that. On the night they had met, when Kalussa had kissed him and tried to seduce him, and he had refused her, he had wound up telling her about his daughter. His grim mask had wavered, and she had seen the pain and fear on his face.
Maybe Kalussa’s feelings for Ridmark and her plan to become his concubine had never been anything more than an infatuation, a childish fantasy.
A deep melancholy fell over her.
Would she ever know a man who looked at her the way that Ridmark looked at Calliande? She knew she was not perfect. Kalussa Pendragon, the arrogant Sister of the Arcanii, the woman who would never marry or have children because of the demands of the war. Perhaps she would grow old alone. Or maybe she would die in the battles to come having never known a man.
Suddenly Kalussa wanted to be alone.
She made polite excuses and left the hall, finding herself wandering through the corridors of the Palace. Her path took her past the royal quarters, the armory, and then the courtyard where the hoplites drilled under the supervision of their decurions. A balcony overlooked that courtyard, and Kalussa climbed the stairs towards it. No one ought to be on the balcony during the banquet. Perhaps she could think in peace there.
As she climbed the steps, she decided to apologize to Ridmark. Yes. That was the best thing to do. She was a Sister of the Arcanii and a daughter of royal blood, and she was acting like a lovesick girl. She needed to think of the good of the realm, not her own feelings. If she drove away the Shield Knight and the Keeper because of her infatuation, Owyllain would suffer. She…
Kalussa stopped.
Someone was already on the balcony.
Rypheus Pendragon stood there, gazing at the empty courtyard. He must have slipped away from the banquet just before Kalussa had. Perhaps he also needed a moment alone. Something black and glittering rested in his left hand, and Rypheus rubbed his thumb against it. His face…
Kalussa flinched.
She had never seen an expression like that on the Crown Prince’s face.
Rage and loathing and hatred twisted his features, his eyes seeming to b
urn with it. Kalussa had seen Rypheus angry a few times, but she had never seen him like this. He looked like he wanted to hurt someone.
One hand strayed beneath his tunic, grasping something. A medallion or an amulet, Kalussa thought.
Then Rypheus realized that she was there, and he turned towards her, his usual smile appearing.
A mask, she thought. It was exactly like someone donning a mask.
“Kalussa,” said Rypheus in a calm voice. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I…felt like some fresh air,” said Kalussa.
“Oh, I quite understand,” said Rypheus. “These banquets are so loud. And the drinking can be much.”
“I don’t wish to drink to excess,” said Kalussa. All the hatred and loathing had vanished from her half-brother’s face. He had turned from the railing, but his left hand was curled in a fist, concealing the glittering black thing she had seen. “I suppose some find that enjoyable, but it just makes me dizzy.”
“Ah,” said Rypheus, and he grinned. “That’s how you know you are fit. The alcohol hits you right away. If you were fat, it would take you some work to get drunk.”
Kalussa laughed despite her unease. “What a thing to say to your sister.”
“Well,” said Rypheus. “The food should be served soon, I imagine. I suppose I ought to go and do my duty. I’ll see you there, I hope.”
“Of course,” said Kalussa.
Rypheus nodded and descended the stairs, his hand still in a fist at a side.
Kalussa watched him go. Perhaps she was imaging things. Everyone loved Rypheus, but surely he had sorrows and griefs like any other man. Maybe he had come here to reflect on them before joining the banquet.
And yet…the hatred on his face…
She had never seen him like that, and she had known him her entire life. Suddenly she realized what the thing in his hand had been. A glass or crystal vial, holding a dark fluid.
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