Steel Dominance

by Cari Silverwood

“Yes!” The chicken leg Sofia was using to point suddenly seemed ridiculous. Chickens were birds, after all. “Um. You know, the way all their parts fit together and let them fly so elegantly.”

  “Ahhh. Yes. Good design, I understand.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and her hand on her pants, then picked up her scabbard and slid the sword half out. “This weapon has been my partner in a thousand fights and has never failed me. This is good design too.”

  “Yes, I suppose.” The gulf between her way of seeing birds and Xiang’s had grown larger. “I should let you see the sketches Dankyo does of birds. Watercolors of them skimming the river.” The brightness in Xiang’s eyes showed promise. Perhaps she too liked art?

  She slammed the sword home, then placed it carefully on the grass. “Yes. I should like to see those.”

  “Good.” Now she’d just have to remember to ask Dankyo for a few to bring next time.

  The parrots had stopped calling out. Quiet settled.

  “How is your new boyfriend?’ It seemed as good a conversation ploy as any. Sofia propped herself back on her arms and waited.

  “Mmm.” Xiang screwed up her face. “Not so good. He seems to be more interested in other women.”

  “Oh. Not good.”

  “I don’t hold much hope for us.” Her gaze centered over Sofia’s shoulder. “Ah. Here we are. Your new instructor in how a slave should behave. The emperor-bey thought it best to do at least a little training in case the Janissary of the Gardens tests you. The janissaries hold much political power. We don’t want to upset them.”

  Suppressing a groan, Sofia looked behind her. A young woman in a figure-hugging blue silk dress came toward them along the path leading to the entrance to the huge garden. As she walked past, swaying sensuously, her raven-black hair swished across her bottom.

  She lowered herself to her knees, then bowed, palms on the paving stones. “Guard Xiang. Lady Sofia. Greetings.”

  Lady? The woman knows I’m not a slave? Confused, she looked at Xiang.

  “Be calm, lady. This one knows. None in the harem can tell your secret to any except the emperor-bey. You are safe. Now.” She rose and dusted her hands on the seat of her leggings. “Tansu is here to teach you. Please let her do so. Tansu, up and teach Sofia all about being a good slave.” She smiled thinly. “I need to do my sword katas, but I will watch to make sure your results are good.”

  Tansu blushed and bowed low again, her forehead to the ground. “Thank you. I shall be good in my duties.”

  “Of course you will.” After unsheathing her sword with a flourish, Xiang sauntered off.

  Seeing Tansu still frozen with her head down, Sofia went to her. “Come. I won’t bite.” Whatever this woman was supposed to teach, she may as well learn it. Like anything here, there seemed hidden undercurrents. If she did this wrong, perhaps the woman would suffer? The rest from studying was welcome in any case. But if she went at the puzzle too madly, her head would suffer.

  She put a hand on the woman’s upper arm. “Teach me.”

  One amber eye peeked up at her as Tansu angled her head. Then she sat back on her heels and smiled shyly. “I shall.”

  Half an hour of instruction in kneeling and bowing, and she had down pat all of what Tansu wished her to learn for the day. Though the hand signs were new, the main differences between what she taught and Dankyo’s instructions were only a matter of speed and gracefulness. The beaming smile Sofia earned from that warmed her like a drink of hot chocolate. Another friend, perhaps?

  “Might I ask how you came to be here, Tansu?”

  “Oh. Myself?” Tansu looked about as if to check the whereabouts of Xiang. “I was captured. My family left me behind. I was a daughter of an Ottoman zealot. My punishment for being a daughter of a criminal is to serve the emperor-bey.”

  “Ah.” Punishment? Did serving mean what she thought? Of course it does, stupid. Being the emperor-bey’s enemy had ramifications she’d never considered. Though perhaps serving in his harem beat being beheaded? She’d heard that was the end of many criminals here. But declared a criminal because your parents did something wrong… How goddamned awful.

  The plight of Tansu kept her mind churning all the way home, until Dankyo took her into their room, kicked the door shut, and ordered her to strip.

  That woke her. From the shape of his trousers, the man had an erection to rival a very naughty stone statue.

  He raised an eyebrow, and she felt herself stir with lust. How can I not? The misery of the day fell away. I’m his. He wants me. Nothing else mattered in that moment.

  “Yes, Sir.” She took off her panties, sure the hint of her nakedness under the material of her mist-pink skirt would tantalize him.

  “Did I say to take your underclothes off first?” The rock-rumbling baritone paralyzed her.

  “No,” she squeaked.

  “Crawl to the bed on your knees and present your bare ass to me.”

  Oh. God. Her slit moistened instantly.

  But…crawl? Her mouth dropped open. She stared back at him for all of two seconds. He wasn’t budging. The need to break from the hold of his gaze overwhelmed her, and she looked at the floor. Yet knowing he watched her and had seen her look away… Warmth trickled through her, turning her thoughts upside down. Last time he’d ordered her to do this had been at the landing field.

  And I hated it. Now, though…

  The last flicker of her pride protested that this was demeaning. Yet not doing as he asked would have killed her. She crawled. The journey left her so ready to be taken. With her head on the quilt, and her eyes closed, she moaned when he first touched her butt.

  “Good girl.” He wrapped his hand around her neck and bit the muscle at the top, where her nape met her hair. She melted. She sank forever into the quilt, mind blank, limp and only distantly aware of him taking her wrists in his and binding them together.

  Chapter Eighteen

  On her return from the palace the next afternoon, Dankyo escorted her to Henry’s workshop. The copy of the Clockwork Warrior stood there in the center of the floor, though now he appeared repaired. She couldn’t resist circling him, noting the differences and wondering if this was how the real warrior would look if made to stand.

  “The steam funnels are gone?” She moved back, not looking where she trod. A stray tool on the floor made her half trip.

  “Careful.” Dankyo steadied her by her elbow.

  The door to the small office slammed. Henry walked over, cradling a wriggling cloth bundle. “The steam was more for an operational battlefield warrior. I’ve given up on that idea.”

  “Ah.” She pursed her mouth. “I saw a winding hole on him. Yes?” What in the world did Henry carry? Hope kindled.

  “Correct. He’s fully clockwork now, plus there’s a small voltaic battery that I had installed to quick start the steam engine.” Henry stopped a few feet away and tugged at the cloth. “Here, I’ve checked him over. He’s safe, as far as I can tell without thoroughly dissecting him.” The last fold of cloth fell away.

  The little clockie dog squirmed in Henry’s arms, flopped onto the floor with a clank and clatter, then shook himself. His purple eyes flared to life, and he trotted over to Sofia and sat on his haunches. The whippy metal tail swept to and fro across the floor, scattering dust and sending a large spring bouncing and jingling. He promptly spun around and chased it down, bringing it back to Sofia and dropping it at her feet.

  “No!” Henry snatched up the spring. “My special spring! Bad dog!”

  The clock dog uncurled his silver tongue, then looked expectantly from Henry to Sofia as if wondering when the game would start.

  She grinned down at him. “I have to think of a name for him. Clive? Cloggie?”

  “Cloggie? Don’t you dare.” Dankyo growled. “How about Daisywaisy?”

  “What?” Incredulous, she turned to him. The effect of the ruler-straight line of his mouth was ruined by the twinkle in his eye.

  “Oh!” She mock
-punched his arm. Her knuckle twinged with pain, and she shook her hand. “Ow!”

  Dankyo caught her wrist and tugged her to him.

  “Ouchies. God. You’re too hard.”

  “Really?” Smiling, he kissed her knuckles, then hugged her. “What a compliment.”

  “You think so?” Men. She turned in his arms. “So what do I call him? We are keeping him, aren’t we?” Oh. The toy maker. Black thoughts tumbled in on top of the happier ones. “What about his owner? Have they found him?”

  For a second Dankyo stopped breathing. “Yes. They dredged up a body from the river. I’m sorry.”

  A shiver coursed through her. Dead. It seemed so wrong.

  He hugged her tighter, then kissed her neck. “So you can keep him, yes. Whoever gave you that note was trying to help you. And the clockwork critter here is therefore unlikely to be aimed at us, or dangerous.”

  “Thank you.” She patted his forearm and held it a little while to absorb some of his warm strength. Frowning, she tried to figure out a name that fit. The inside of the clockwork dog’s glass eyes crackled with purple spinning tornadoes. The longer she stared at him, the louder became a whining noise that arose somewhere inside him.

  “Coco? Bouncer? Zigzag? Yes, that’s kind of like Ticktock.” She pointed. “Zigzag, you are.”

  Zigzag tilted his head as if analyzing her, then trotted over to snap at the spring hanging from Henry’s hand.

  “Whoops! No!” Henry frowned. “Dang it, this is an experimental spring.”

  Dankyo shifted on his feet, rasping his shirt across the fine chiffon of Sofia’s tunic. “A spring is a spring, Henry. You can give it to him.”

  “No it’s not. Look.” Briskly Henry walked to a set of steps on wheels. He placed the spring at the top, then gave it a nudge. Slowly, like a giant metal inchworm gone wrong, it wobbled and sprang down the steps, one end after the other. Though Zigzag dashed over, mouth open, Henry picked the spring up from before his nose. The clock dog skidded past.

  “Ha. Fooled you.” He smiled. “You know, this Zigzag dog thing was pining for you, Miss Sofia.”

  “Oh?” She wriggled loose from within Dankyo’s arms. “Why do you say that?”

  “He’s been trying to get away from me the whole time I had him. But now he’s happy while in your vicinity. Look at him.”

  Zigzag was sniffing in a vague circle about her feet. She sucked on the inside of her cheek and offered him her foot. Though he chomped on it for a second with his golden teeth, he was gentle and let her shoe go, then sat and stared at the spring in Henry’s hand.

  “He is pretty happy.” She shrugged. “What do you call that spring?”

  He clucked his tongue for a moment. Then his eyebrows rose into his hair. “An automatic walking spring? Maybe?”

  “Hah.” Dankyo laughed. “Henry, you need to take a class in naming your devices. I recall that reciprocating probe name not going down too well with the ladies.”

  Lord. Sofia didn’t look up. The burn across her cheeks would have rivaled the heat at the center of the sun. How could he?

  Behind her Dankyo’s footsteps crunched closer. He enfolded her again in his arms and rocked her a little. “Have you totally disarmed the Clockwork Warrior replica? Apart from those time-telling antics he runs through each hour?”

  “Totally?” Thank goodness, Henry sounded bemused and not at all interested in the talk about the reciprocating probe. “Not yet. I need to take out the mechanism in his head. Of course, if he’s not wound up, he’ll run down very fast anyway.”

  Even if Henry was distracted, she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. Dankyo might as well have put a sign on her head.

  “Not yet?” Dankyo had that tone of mild disapproval in his voice. At least it was Henry suffering and not her. “If you accidentally turn the emperor-bey into a pin cushion, you may start a war.”

  “I will? Really? Goodness gracious me.”

  “Between you and Miss Egghead here, it’s a wonder the world hasn’t fallen apart.”

  Miss Egghead? She’d had enough of that from her brothers and her father. She elbowed him. “That’s a stupid joke.”

  Chuckling, he reached down and pinched her rear end, hard, making her squeak. “Stupid? And that was not a good move, elbowing me. But thank you, my lady. I needed an excuse to pinch you.”

  “I meant that!” She fumed and drew her elbow forward to poke him again.

  “Uh-uh.” Without much effort he trapped her arm against her side, then murmured low and growly right beside her earlobe. “Feeling feisty are we? I knew you were bad.”

  A shiver ran through her all the way down to her toes. He insults me, threatens punishment, and yet I still like it in some weird way? She shook her head at herself. What am I becoming?

  The way Dankyo constantly touched her made her feel like his possession. Deliberate? Yes, surely. His arms cocooned her, his breath warmed her neck, and his dark, male scent seemed to penetrate deep into her flesh.

  What would it be like to not have him around again? The emptiness that would bring. How would she bear it?

  But, did he actually think of her as an egghead? A hollow feeling sank into her stomach. Maybe that was why he’d said nothing of their future? She wasn’t really that much of a catch, was she? An egghead, and living off a university stipend until this government job came through. Solving puzzles must seem trivial to a man used to war.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Each day thereafter, Zigzag became more and more attached to her until she would sometimes trip over him when she turned from looking out a window.

  Most days, Dankyo made love to her—sometimes tender, sometimes rough, and making her beg for every iota of pleasure he gave her. Sometimes he took her to the very edge and left her there exhausted, panting, sweating, with red marks on her flesh. Afterward, she’d lie upon the bed spread-eagled, with her mind and body blown apart by whatever he’d chosen to do to her.

  He’d be there next to her, toying with her hair and stroking her as she came back to life. Sometimes there’d be a little frown on his forehead, as if he worried about her, or perhaps about their future.

  She prayed ever so hard that it was their future, because the man who was too dangerous to let into her heart had somehow captured it entirely.

  I surrender. I’m yours for eternity, she wanted to announce. Corny, but true.

  But why did he not say this? She’d tried, but she couldn’t. She feared his no. What did she have to offer a man who had found his place in life fifteen years ago? Besides, he was the most forthright man she knew. If he didn’t say anything, she knew without a doubt she was just a passing amusement.

  The only weakness Dankyo showed was at night while asleep. Several times she’d been woken by him shouting out loud. The twitching of his face and mumbled words made her sure he suffered nightmares like he had on the airship. She’d tried again to shake him awake, and the acute look of terror in his brown eyes when he looked up had made her heart falter. She’d not dared since. Whatever demons haunted him never surfaced in the daytime anyway. Soldiers would have more than their fair share of bad memories.

  On Tuesday night, they arrived on the outer wall of the compound to watch the weekly bombardment of Byzantium by the Ottoman.

  Sofia stepped up to the chest-high rampart. The stone was cold and gritty under her fingers. Bolt marks on the floor, and the wide gap to her right were signs of an old cannon mounting. The only functioning weapon emplacements left in the wall were a story below. Dankyo had said their small caliber was only intended to repel boat attacks. She went up on her toes, peered over, and spotted the weapons. At the far corners, three gun barrels on bulky turrets protruded past the line of the wall.

  The dark band below was the river. Others had decided to have a late picnic on the wall. Farther along, to her left, couples and groups clinked glasses and murmured in quiet conversation. A whine and hoarse clicking at her feet told her Zigzag was there.

  “Hey, bo
y. How’s it going?”

  Though the clockwork creature surely couldn’t think very well, he was as loyal as any real dog, maybe more so. Why he’d attached himself to her was a puzzle even she hadn’t yet solved.

  “He’s starting to follow me too sometimes.” In the evening quiet, Dankyo kept his voice low.

  “Oh?” She scratched at the loose rock under her hand. “I’m almost done, you know?”

  She glanced across at him where he’d settled next to her, his folded arms resting on the top of the stone. The last light showed wind riffling the top of his black close-cut hair. The navy frock coat, silver tie, and stark white shirt made him look so manly, so aristocratic, so damned scrumptious.

  “Almost done?” He rubbed the corner of his eye, then concentrated on her. “With the warrior?”

  “Yes. Tomorrow I’ll stop taking notes, then give myself a few days to be sure, then it’s the day.”

  I should be smiling. Yet a gray sludge had seeped in and was weighing her down. Why? Was it just fear that she might be wrong? Surely not?

  “Good. Once we’re done here, I’ll be a lot happier. There’s a group down there with Henry and Annie in it. We should say hello.”

  Once we’re done here… Yes, that was it. There was nothing to look forward to. Accolades maybe, for solving the puzzle, but that would be like sand drizzling through her fingers and blowing away without Dankyo. Proving herself to her family had become nothing of consequence. She ached, plain ached to know if she and Dankyo had a future. Why didn’t he say something?

  Where Dankyo had indicated, ten or more people were talking together. The ancient wall here was wide enough for small fires, and there were even braziers where she guessed soldiers must once have cooked meals.

  When she hesitated, he took her shoulder. “What is it?”

  “It” was too difficult to say. Her heart thudded. She shook her head, picking a granule of quartz from the rock with her fingernail.

  “Do I have to be your slave? I’ve not spoken as an equal in public for days. Can I talk like a normal adult?”

  “No, I’m sorry. Henry knows, but only him. I think Annie is there also. It’s not safe. Come. We won’t stay long.”