Green, Sharon - Mind Guest.htm

by Mind Guest

  Were I you, I would retract that insult."

  "And yet you are not I, wench," Ralnor answered through his teeth,

  tightening his grip again to the point where I winced against the pain.

  "No wench, neither peasant nor princess, may speak to me as you do.

  Such insolence demands a reckoning, and I shall. . ."

  "Do naught," Fallan interrupted, wrapping his hand around Ralnor's

  wrist and pulling his fingers away from my arm. "Do you forget the oath

  we have sworn, Ralnor? Do you forget the cautions we were given? You

  declared yourself able to withstand even the haughtiest of princesses.

  Were you mistaken in the judgment of your strength?"

  "Perhaps . . . merely in my capacity for patience, Captain," the other

  man grudged, backing down as gracefully as his still-present anger

  would allow. "I had not meant to approach the wench after the earlier

  words exchanged between us, and did not; it was I who was approached,

  and in an unexpected manner. I will now take myself elsewhere, where I

  will not place our company in jeopardy."

  He gave me a last glare then turned and walked off, heading toward a

  group of men tending their vair. I rubbed at my arm where his grip had

  probably left fingerprints, wondering exactly why I'd gotten into an

  argument with the man, and Fallan turned from watching Ralnor's

  receding back to look down at me with less than friendliness.

  "Such a thing will not occur again, Missy," he growled, with a look in

  his eyes that made Ralnor's glare a smile by comparison. "That my men

  and I are pledged to your safety does not mean you may address us as

  you please. Had Ralnor less control of his own temper, that overbearing

  temper you display would surely have been properly trimmed. Let me see

  your arm."

  I'd thought I'd been doing my rubbing surreptitiously, but eagle-eye

  Fallan had spotted it anyway. He pushed my other hand away and took my

  arm with such unexpected gentleness that for once I was more surprised

  than Bellna. Just below the short sleeve of my new blouse angry red

  fingermarks could be seen, a couple of which were bound to turn into

  bruises. Fallan inspected the arm and marks with no expression on his

  face, then raised his gaze to mine again.

  "I regret that skin so fair and soft must know the results of a man's

  anger," he said, looking much too deeply into my eyes. "The fault is

  mine, for I should not have let you move from my side. Where did you

  think to go other than to the coach?"

  "I w-wished to avail my-myself of the bushes hereabout," I stuttered,

  sounding and feeling like a little girl whose arm was still being held

  by the man she was beginning to be terribly in love with. Bellna's

  throbbing was racing all through me, showing she didn't have to be in

  control to make me act like an idiot. I could feel Fallan's warmth

  through my arm where his big hand touched me, could see how he looked

  at my body through the thin cloth covering it, could taste how badly my

  arousal wanted satisfaction from him. With all that against me I found

  it impossible not to tremble, and a faint grin lightened the near-

  ugliness of his face.

  "You should have spoken to me of the need," he said, taking my hand

  instead of my arm. "It would have been my pleasure to escort you to the

  privacy which is yours by right. As I shall do now. Follow me, wench."

  Bellna fluttered again, thrilled with the way he called me "wench," and

  I discovered that the story I'd come up with on the spur of the moment

  wasn't just a story any longer. I really did need some bushes, and

  maybe then I'd be able to reclaim the rest of my bodily functions. I

  let Fallan guide me to a ring of greenery to one side of the clearing,

  discovered there was no way of sneaking out again without someone

  noticing, did what I had to, then let him take me back to the coach

  again. The bushes offer was made to the four girls and accepted by

  them, giving me the faint hope that I'd be left alone by the coach, but

  no such luck. Fallan stayed with me while the girls guided themselves,

  and when they came back he helped the "princess" in first.

  "And now the rest of you may enter," he said, giving the others a hand

  before he turned to me. "When the next inn is reached, Missy, you and

  the other wenches will take yourselves to the kitchens, as was

  previously done. The princess will be served by the inn girls, allowing

  her servants a time of rest. I trust there will be no confusion as to

  which place is yours."

  "I am well aware of which place is mine," I answered with a pout,

  trying hard to shove Bellna's reactions away from me. "Equally am I

  aware that that place has been taken from me. Which of the others will

  serve me in the kitchens?"

  "None will serve you in the kitchens," Fallan answered with something

  of a sigh as he leaned one hand against the coach above my head. "You

  will be required to serve yourself, and my men and I as well. You are

  to be a peasant wench, and convincingly, else shall I be forced to

  punish you soundly. Far better a strapping at my hands, than a sword in

  the throat from those who seek your life. Your safety will be assuredat

  whatever cost."

  His eye said he'd just given me his word, but that was all he was

  giving me; rather than letting me have the time to argue, he hustled me

  up the steps into the coach, and slammed the door on me. I was able to

  climb over all the legs and get to my seat on the far side before the

  coach moved off again, but the lurching start shifted me over toward

  the redhead. She looked at me distantly and gathered her skirts closer

  to her, making sure the peasant didn't dirty them by being too near

  them, and the other three girls giggled in appreciation. The redhead

  had picked up the necessary attitudes of Tildorani nobility, and was

  practicing them on me in the same way I'd done with her. Bellna was

  huffing inside my head, ready to be insulted, but I had other things to

  think about. I moved all the way over to my side of the seat, ignored

  the giggling, whispering girls, and brooded at the forest flowing past.

  Right at that moment, I couldn't decide whether Bellna or Fallan was my

  biggest problem. Fallan was alternating between threats and sweettalking,

  a tactic designed to put a young girl off balance and keep her

  that way. Bellna was reacting just the way Fallan wanted her to, and

  her unbridled reactions were throwing me off balance. As I sat and

  stared at the forest the road wound through, my unwelcome guest was

  sighing and thinking about the way Fallan had treated her. Treated me.

  Hell, treated both of us. He hadn't liked the way I'd argued with

  Ralnor, but the marks on my arm had seemed to really bother him.

  Bellna's reactions to his small kindnesses were making me begin to like

  Fallan the mercenary, and I couldn't afford to like him. I was on an

  assignment that would undoubtedly produce a whole lot of dead bodies all around me, and I couldn't afford to find myself in the position of

  having liked one of them. The sort of emotions evoked at a time like

  that are not conducive to survival
.

  I sighed and shifted my bare feet on the floorboards of the coach,

  feeling the repugnance Bellna felt at the sensation. She had never been

  made to go barefoot before in her entire life, and her over-awareness

  of the state was enough to divert part of her attention from thoughts

  of Fallan. It annoyed her that that indignity had been forced on her by

  Fallan himself, but she was ready to forgive him grudgingly-if he

  continued to act as though she might be important to him in some way. I

  wondered about that, about why he was concerning himself so directly

  with the young girl in his charge, but could only guess when it came to

  drawing conclusions. It wasn't likely that he was seriously interested

  in her, not when she was a princess already promised in marriage to the

  crown prince of Narella. Attachments like that were formed only in

  fiction; real-life, practical men knew better, and if nothing else,

  Fallan seemed practical. He was probably only trying to make life

  easier on himself by having Bellna too starry-eyed to give him a hard

  time. Or too wide-eyed by his threats, the latest of which had done

  exactly that to her. He had said he would beat me if I didn't act like

  the peasant I was supposed to be, but somehow I still didn't believe

  him. It wasn't the sort of thing a mercenary could get away with, even

  in the name of protection. Fallan was probably hoping that if he said

  it calmly and seriously enough, Bellna the child would believe it.

  Unfortunately for him he wasn't dealing with Bellna, and I didn't like

  the arrangements he'd made with the redhead. I leaned back on the coach

  seat and closed my eyes on the decision that I'd have to push the good

  captain a little more, and sabotage his plans if at all possible. I was

  the one getting paid to take the risks; the idea of overprotecting a

  decoy was absurd.

  The distance to the next inn wasn't far enough to let me do more than

  grab a catnap. When the captain of Bellna's mercenaries came to hand

  her out of the coach, all of us, including the new princess, were given

  a surprise. The man wearing the captain's neck scaff was Ralnor, and he

  was the picture of courtesy to the redhead. Fallan, now a lieutenant,

  gathered the rest of us "girls" together, and herded us along after his

  captain and our princess. The rest of the mercenaries took up their

  places around and behind us, and we repeated our parade to the inn.

  After Ralnor and Fallan checked out the interior we went inside, were

  immediately noticed by the tall, slightly pot-bellied man who was the

  innkeeper, then went through the same revelation scene we had at the

  previous inn. I'd decided to wait for the 'grand announcement before

  making my move, so' when the innkeeper was gasping in shocked delight I

  began to step forward-and discovered that Fallan hadn't counted on my

  being intimidated by his threats. Three of his men were inches away

  from me at left, right and back, and the disguised captain himself was

  right in front of me. I took no more than that one short step before

  finding myself in a box of hefty male bodies, and seconds later our

  party had separated, the redhead and Ralnor being led to a table,

  Fallan and six of his men, the three girls and I all moving toward a

  door in the far wall. With all eyes in the place on the "princess," no

  one noticed that one of the peasant girls wasn't moving entirely on her

  own. I noticed it, of course, but there wasn't much I could do and

  still stay in character. Shouting over wide shoulders or past thick

  arms wouldn't be very effective, but that was the only option Fallan

  had left open to me.

  The door in the far wall let us into a big, stuffy room filled with the odor of cooking food. Four women in peasant dress hurried from pot to

  pan to preparation table to fire, sweat on their faces and boredom in

  their eyes. Five girls hurried around filling wine jugs and collecting

  goblets, three male slaves in chains lugged heavy sacks or carried

  armioads of wood, and two men wearing yellow and white neck scarves and

  very obvious swords stood and watched the hurry all around them without

  sharing in it. The two armed men were house guards, and when they saw

  Fallan and his huskies they straightened and came away from the wall

  they'd been leaning on

  "Calmly," Fallan called, holding one hand up, palm outward, toward the

  two men. "Our Company rides in the service of the Princess Bellna, who

  now pauses for refreshment in your house. We, ourselves, are here to

  assist you in guarding the pots - as well as help to ourselves to a bit

  of the best of them. Are there any about it would be wise to look upon

  with suspicion?"

  "None save yourselves," answered one of the men, a dark-haired, darkeyed,

  almost-match to Fallan. He was grinning faintly to show he might

  be joking, but he and the other man kept their backs to the wall and

  their hands not far from their hilts.

  "Well spoken," Fallan nodded, clearly in approval. "To accept my word

  would be foolishness on your part. It would undoubtedly be best if you

  were to..."

  "Why do you all stand about gawping?" a sudden voice demanded, and we

  turned to see the innkeeper in the doorway. "The Princess Bellna honors

  my house with her presence, and those in my service take their ease

  while my wine sours and my food burns! To your work, all of you, and

  that as quickly as you value your freedom - or skins!"

  The women and girls, who had obviously been watching the exchange

  between Fallan and the house guards, paled at the snap in the

  innkeeper's voice and immediately turned back to what they'd been

  doing. The three slaves, dressed in filthy rags tied around their

  middles, short, heavy chains, and a good selection of whip marks, also

  worked at looking busy, two of them shuffling out of the room on some

  errand or other. The only ones not upset by the innkeeper's threat were

  the house guards, who finally relaxed from the stiffened, ready

  position they'd been in, and sauntered over closer to be heard over the

  unending fl6w of commands coming out of their employer.

  "Were you about to suggest that we await the arrival of the innkeeper,

  the suggestion was sound," the dark-haired guard told Fallan with a

  grin. "It is now clear that you are honored guests, and may be offered

  a cup or two when the hubbub has finally quieted."

  "A cup or two would be well received," Fallan said with an amiable nod,

  turning his head to watch the frantically hurrying girls and women, who

  were being commanded to even greater speed by the innkeeper. "A pity

  this hubbub will be awhile in quieting."

  The guard raised his brows in doubt before also looking at the goingson,

  but Fallan turned out to be right. The hurrying back and forth took

  forever to be over, and once it was, half the contents of the kitchen

  was gone. I remembered all the courses I'd been offered at the last

  inn, and hoped the redhead was hungry. If it had still been me in her

  place, I couldn't have eaten a thing.

  "You wenches may now serve us and take your own fare," Fallan announced


  in the sudden peace and quiet, stretching where he stood near the house

  guards. "I will have a bowl of that root soup and a cut of light bread,

  but first of all a cup of wine."

  "Bring wine for all, including us," the dark-haired house guard

  amended, looking over at the three girls near me and then, last of all, me. Bellna gasped and backed trembling into her corner at that look,

  and the guard showed a faint grin. "With your permission, Lieutenant, I

  would have that red-haired one serve me," he said to Fallan without

  looking at him. "Is she yours or your captain's?"

  "Neither," Fallan answered, putting his hand on the man's shoulder

  while joining his stare. "Her service belongs to the Princess, a fact

  she is well aware of. By cause of that fact, her actions when out of

  sight of the Princess are much like those of the Princess herself. Her

  service to us is clumsy, reluctant and far from pleasing, for she

  believes the Princess will protect her from our wrath. For the sake of

  your temper, you would be wise to choose another."

  "For the sake of my eyesight, however, there is no other choice," the

  man laughed in answer, still watching me. "Have her fetch our wine."

  "As you please," Fallan agreed with a shrug in his voice, but his eyes

  were a lot less unconcerned. "Fetch two cups of wine, wench, and see

  that you do so in an acceptable manner. Should you be beaten the

  Princess may well be furious, yet will you still have received the

  beating."

  I tossed my head and turned away from them, annoyed as all hell that

  Fallan had boxed me up so neatly. If I refused to serve them, Fallan

  would have to beat me, or the house guards would surely get suspicious.

  The role I was committed to would let me do not a single thing to stop

  him, which meant that if I didn't want to be beaten, I'd have to avoid

  it rather than stop it. I stalked over to the three peasant girls

  already working on getting wine and food together for Fallan and his

  men, ignored their smirks, and appropriated two goblets of wine. Since

  the goblets had been poured for and by someone else that took care of

  the smirks, but I didn't care if the girls were displeased with me. If

  they didn't like what I was doing, they could complain to the princess.

  I carried the two goblets of wine over to Fallan and his new friend,

  not paying any attention to how much was spilling onto the floor as I