“Got everything?”
“Yes, Master.”
Dick arched his brows. Crispin pulled open the strap on the bigger of the two bags. Inside, there was a wire cage, and inside it, a pair of flizzards, lying on a bed of wool to keep warm. Both were relatively small, one brown with orange dots, and the other sickly yellow with soft black stripes turning into a solid char-colored tail. The reptiles did not seem to acknowledge him.
“They belong to the miners in the village of Winterbrull. So, when they fly back, they won’t go to the castle.”
Dick nodded. “And do you have sufficient food for them?”
Crispin cracked open a metal box. Dick shied away from the sight—and smell—of worms.
“And yourself?”
The servant patted his various pouches and pockets. “Double-lined leather to keep the rain off, and iron stitching so no one can knife my purses away. A hundred silver, should I require any goods while on the road. Two pistols and two crossbows, here, and I have another three pistols on my saddle.”
Dick frowned. “Maybe you should take a few more, just to be on the safe side.”
Crispin pursed his lips thoughtfully. “If you say so, Master. But I also have a short sword, and a knife in my boot, and another—”
“I am sure you can take care of yourself. Now, do you remember your task?”
Crispin nodded.
“Go to Volkard and—” Dick motioned with his hand. “—arrange that he liberates Eva from my father’s clutches. Then after she’s been safely taken away, bring her here.”
“Yes, Master, I remember.”
Crispin carefully secured the strap on the bag with the flizzards. He rose and hauled them over the back of a rugged scout horse. It wasn’t a big animal, but it was a local breed, well suited for cold and hilly paths, and it had the stamina to outrun most coursers.
Dietrich was immensely pleased with his genius. He could not trust anyone else to rescue Eva. Besides, she already knew Crispin, and she was less likely to panic or object if he was the one who delivered her to Dick. Having her in the hands of mercenaries once again, no matter how good or well recommended by Volkard, made him queasy.
“Don’t forget to dispatch a message. Once you get to Eisenstar, and once you have Eva in your custody. I will then arrange for a safe place for her in the nearby villages.” Or the castle.
Crispin placed a rolled oiled blanket on top of the saddle, then slid a vicious dagger into the folds. “If all goes well, Master, a month from now, a month and a half in the worst case, I should return.”
“Make haste, but not too much haste. Don’t draw attention to yourself.”
“Master, what about Nicole—”
“No!”
Crispin stroked the horse’s neck. Dick thought his manservant looked a tiny bit annoyed. After all, he’d already done a much more perilous journey last year, fleeing from the Fearless Brigade. Or when he’d joined Ruddy in the infiltration into Angoma.
Shame about his cousin, but things were as they were.
I should be nice to him, Dick thought, looking at Crispin, Eva’s words about how small people loved praise from their betters ringed in the recesses of his mind. Crispin had always been loyal to him, and he did deserve a good word. “I am sure you will make me proud. I have every faith in you.”
The manservant let the corner of his mouth twitch into a semblance of a smile. “Thank you, Master.”
“Meanwhile, I will have to ask Lady Enduria for a valet. Hopefully, she will find someone worthy.”
“What will you tell of my absence, Master?”
Dick moved back as the horse suddenly whipped its head around. Good question. “You have been assigned a mission. A royal mission.” That was not a lie.
“What if she sends a letter to the king to confirm this, Master? We do not know who might be secretly working for your father.”
Another good question. All of them. “Then you are bringing me a gift. From, from Crumnau.”
“What will be the gift, Master?”
Dick snapped his fingers. “It’s a gift for Amadea! A surprise. There.”
Crispin checked the tack and made sure the horse’s hair was smooth and free of burs and insects. “That is a cunning plan, Master. I will think of a suitable gift that would appear exotic and rare. Maybe the Crumnau yellow crystal. But I must ask you for another hundred silver in that case. Hopefully, Master Volkard will be willing to sell some of the fine ware in his brothel.”
Dick patted Crispin on the shoulder. “I am sure he will.” Reluctantly, he handed Crispin another satchel of rods. Ever since coming here, he made sure never to go about without sufficient money and a pistol or two.
The servant mounted the horse. “I will be going now.”
“Good luck, Crispin.”
Once his servant was gone, Dick had a moment of panic: who would take care of him now? But the panic was gone the next instant. That was not healthy thinking for the Warden of the East. He was here on a mission from his father. If he needed something, the help had better take care of it. That was the spirit!
Feeling oddly buoyant and excited about having Eva with him again, he waddled into keep, ogling the maids, wondering how he might end up bedding one of them without causing a scandal.
CHAPTER 9
Prince Charming
“The mist of love smells like wine.”
—CYNDELLAS, ART OF TEMPTATION, 7TH CENTURY
24th Day of the Month of Budding
Castle Ostfort rocked like a boat. It wasn’t a violent motion, more like a gentle sway, the way gelled bone marrow might wriggle on a platter. A subtle jolt under Dick’s feet made him reach out and steady himself against the wall.
On the other hand, he reasoned, he might have drunk a tad too much.
The guard standing outside his wife’s chamber gave him an odd, curious look, or it might be the weak candle light that made the man’s face look sunken and sallow. The soldier fidgeted ever so slightly.
“You are dismissed,” Dick said, shuffling forward.
This wasn’t one of Nils’ men, and he hesitated for a moment before nodding. “As you command, Your Royal Highness.”
Dick watched him go, the warm, fuzzy illumination making his eyes water. As the man’s form and jangling armor vanished into the next corridor, Dietrich turned toward the carved oak doors. He took a deep breath. He knocked.
Half an eternity later, the doors cracked open, and the somber, concerned face of Olivia angled out toward him. “Your Highness?”
Dietrich rubbed his face, trying to remember why he had decided to come here. Ah… yes. “I wish to be with my wife. Alone.”
Olivia gave him the same uncertain look that the guard had, then retreated into the chamber, whispering furiously. Soon enough, three ladies-in-waiting rushed out of the room, each one giving him a frightened stare.
Dick vaguely remembered Olivia being his sister’s pawn. The other one, the short and dark-haired one, was Sacony and much better versed in Rich’s than Amadea. The last was another Nichtaven maid, and if Dick’s memory served him correctly, he had once fondled her breasts in the under-passage behind the kitchens. She had been giggling wildly, only that big gap between her front teeth made him seek his pleasure elsewhere. What was her name? Natascha. Yes.
The doors remained open, and the semi-dark beckoned him inside.
I hate you Father, Dick swore, and stepped in.
Amadea was standing in the center of the chamber, small, chubby and frightened. She was wearing a sickly green chemise with gold flowers, and she had flower-like pins in her hair. Unlike his own suite, which was dominated by bright, angry colors, hers had been styled in soft creamy hues. It smelled of sweet oils and perfumes, it was too hot, and Dick’s head swam.
“Amadea,” he said, trying not to belch.
“Deek. What is you doing heer?”
Dick pushed the door closed behind him. “I’ve come to do my princely duty.” Father’s letter e
choed in his head. Throughout the day, Dick had carefully sipped the most expensive liquors his new valet, Arnie, could find, trying to get the resentment and worry to subside. They hadn’t. However, by evening time, he had finally mustered just enough courage to walk down to Amadea’s floor.
Now, he had to get past his distinct lack of attraction for his ugly little princess wife.
“Oh.” Amadea looked on the verge of panic. She took a step back.
Dick waddled closer. “Do you have any wine?”
Amadea pointed toward a small side table.
Dick blinked, trying to dissipate the fog in front of his eyes. He slouched into a padded sofa and reached for a jewel-encrusted ewer and goblet. He grunted with satisfaction when he poured, glad that he had a steady hand despite his earlier drinking. As he expected, the wine was watered and too sweet, designed to give the ladies a sense of rush without really making them inebriated.
It would have to do, Dick thought, drinking. But no matter how much he swallowed, he couldn’t get Amadea’s curves to become appealing. She still remained stocky and decidedly homely. Her fear did little to encourage him.
I presume you have already bedded your wife. F.
The words made his head ache. But he knew he could not escape this gruesome fate. There was nothing short of getting Amadea killed or his own berries lost in a dreadful accident that would make Old Fart stop demanding he produce a son.
That on its own wouldn’t be that much of a disaster. Women took care of children anyway. For all he knew, he had sired dozens of bastards in brothels around Monrich. However, once he had an heir of his own, Old Fart’s restraint would be gone. Dick would find himself in battles, one after another, risking his life for the glory and honor of the kingdom.
He had to make sure that never happened.
Then, if he didn’t get Amadea pregnant, he’d be disowned.
What to do, what to do?
Drink some more.
I need time. Maybe he’d be lucky, and his firstborn would be a girl. That ought to buy him an extra year or two before Father’s patience ran out again. Babies were quite sickly, too, and many died in their first winter. Even if he had a son, the child could perish, and that would make Old Fart keep Dick safe and close to the throne. Meanwhile, he’d keep plotting. Eventually, he’d find a way to get rid of his father, or maybe the king might just die. Two or three years of precious time bought, for the price of having to bed his ugly wife.
Be brave, you can do it.
Dick put the goblet down with a solid thunk. Fuck it!
Amadea jumped. “Deek?”
He rose, almost fell, but somehow managed to steady himself, waving his hands, petting invisible goats around him. Then, he let his charm seep through the cloud of toxins gripping his mind. He tried to imagine being at Volkard’s, trying to blur Amadea into a lustful shape.
To his surprise, she sighed and nodded. “I is…am ready.”
Dick blinked, the world turning purple for a moment. “Ready?”
“Your sister teached me how to pleasure a man.”
Dick wasn’t sure if he was disgusted or terrified by the admission. His sister? What manner of poison had Mina dripped in Amadea’s chubby ears? What had she told her? “Yes?”
Heart hammering in horrified expectation and from too much heat in the room, Dick started undressing. He was clumsy, slow, but as always, he managed to get himself naked quickly enough. The one difference from his typical visit to a brothel was the lack of excitement on his end. His member was hiding deep inside his black fluff of curly hair, refusing to come out.
Amadea had a greasy, feigned smile on her lips, which Dick presumed was meant to be lustful and inviting. She reached for a shoulder strap and flicked it off her pale, oily skin. Then the other. Dick winced as she let the cloth drop.
Saint protect me.
“We do in the bed?” his wife asked.
Dick swallowed. “Indeed.”
Keeping eye contact with him, she tried to clamber into the big four-post bed behind her. Only it was too high for her, so her attempt to slide up onto the mattress only made her look like she had a nasty back itch.
Dick kept his eyes up, up, up. He did not dare look down. If he stayed his eyes off her body, he might imagine something more alluring, something that might make his member rescind its protest.
Eventually, Amadea managed to get onto the bed, and she wormed back, her motions stilted, awkward. There was nothing graceful or seductive about her.
Dick wandered around the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress beside her, staring at his crotch. Nothing. Even in his drunken stupor, his member had more sense than the rest of him. It felt like a satchel of dead weight between his legs.
“Come to me,” Amadea stammered, her tone squeaky with fear. She had extended her arms, and was pouting for a kiss, eyes closed.
Dick lowered himself onto the sheets, head rolling with warm pain. He might as well just fall asleep. If she happened to take advantage of him during the night, his duty would have been fulfilled and his conscience clear. Only he knew he wouldn’t be that lucky.
I hate you, Father.
“You kiss me, no?” Amadea complained, cracking one eye open.
“Yes, I kiss you,” Dick said, still contemplating his options. He had to do this. There was no escaping this ordeal.
Slowly, he rolled over, half pressing her weight against her. She was cold and clammy to touch, despite the furnace heat in the chamber. Her body felt alien. But he kept his stare unfocused, and tried to imagine better days. Amadea did her best to wrap her arms around him. Her right arm stroked his side, and drifted down his slabs, toward his buttocks.
Dick grunted. His cock was shyly peering through the thick growth of hair below his belly, trying to decide if it ought to wander out for a quick forage after all. Dick frowned, trying to narrow down his thoughts. His best time at Volkard’s…
The finger was so unexpected that he yelped and jumped, rolling away from Amadea. Hard floor greeted his ribs, pushing air out of his lungs. Wheezing, he crawled from the bed, suddenly alert and yet choking breathless. Gradually, the burning sensation in his chest dissipated.
“Why did you do that?” he rasped, still on all fours.
Amadea had covered her ugly nudity with a blanket, looking at him confused and mortified. “You don’t like it?”
“No!”
“Your sister said men like…”
Mina, you silly whore. The truth was, it was his fault. He should have expected a foul trick like this, especially after Amadea had told him his sister had been coaching her on love affairs. He should have known Mina would try her best to complicate his marriage, to make his life miserable. After all, his success jeopardized hers.
Dick started to chuckle. It was only partially forced, but he welcomed the racking spasms in his stomach, which was loudly complaining about the mistreatment. He had drunk way too much, and in all likelihood, Arnie was probably going to be scrubbing rugs clean in the morning.
“Why you smiling, Deek?”
Dick staggered up, holding the bed post for balance. “Oh, no reason. I think I will dress up and leave. We might try this on another occasion?” Hopefully never.
“I is…am sorry, Deek.”
Dick puffed as he pulled his hose on. “Don’t mention it.” I mean it. No one must know. Or I will become the laughing stock of the entire castle.
Without another word, he left the chamber, and did his best to look invisible to the occasional servant wandering past.
CHAPTER 10
The Twins
“I would marry my dog if she could please me in bed.”
— NICCO OF VALED, EMPEROR SUPREME OF VALED, SHORTLY BEFORE HE LOST HIS MIND, FROM THE BOOK OF HISTORICAL AFFAIRS ON VALEDIAN RULERS BY THALIUS, CIRCA 420-440
29th Day of the Month of Budding
“How much longer?”
“Over the hill.”
Dick squirmed in the saddle. His groin hurt f
rom the horse’s erratic gait over frosted puddles of piss and old, filthy patches of snow. The winter was refusing to go away, and evenings were still fiercely cold. The sky had a pink-ink color that promised more frost and more cold. The stars themselves shivered, and misted breath eddied from every nostril and mouth, man and horse.
A sliver of gold still clung to the gaps between the hills, but to the east, the world was dark. Full of surprises. Good surprises, Dick hoped.
There were five of them. Kief and three reluctant guards followed him toward Challe, where he hoped to finally liberate the pent-up tension burning in his loins. Not having enjoyed a woman for so long, he was almost afraid of the consequences of tonight’s escapade. The brothel would probably have to close for a day or two of rest by the time he left back for the castle.
Master Udo still insisted on torturing him, and unlike the rest of them, Dick didn’t feel any less pain as a result of his pointless sword practice. His muscles and bones burned, and he could barely shuffle away from the training ground after each lesson. One day, he would make Voytech’s spiritual brother pay dearly.
“How much longer?”
“The hill is still there,” Kief replied, too brazenly for a bastard.
Dick resigned himself to counting the hoof beats. Worse than the pain in his limbs was the scar in his soul from about an eightday earlier. He didn’t remember all the details of his attempt to bed Amadea, but he felt it had gone utterly, horribly badly. Worst of all, he knew he would have to try to sleep with her at least one more time. He would have to get his wife pregnant before the year’s end in some miraculous way. And if the child turned out to be a girl, try yet again.
I must not be seen as not having done my best. Old Fart must not have any doubts. He must believe I have been nothing but the most arduous and loyal of husbands, and a most caring future father. So bloody wrong. Well, tonight, I will amend all wrongs!
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