Under a Warrior's Moon

by C. L. Scheel

  Assur lowered the knife blade and turned away from Kazan as if dismissing a mere insect.

  "Kitarisa," he said, quickly altering his manner from warrior to polite guest. "I have come to give my oaths and bonds by offering bride-price."

  Kitarisa blinked, not certain she heard him correctly. Bride-price? No man would have ever dared to ask as much, not even her dearest Rhynn. Paying bride-price was older than the empire, only then it was called `paying slavebond'. It was a custom rarely done anymore. Most couples wishing to marry approached their families for a proper arrangement and the formal consents. The old, elaborate negotiations of bride-price were now reduced to a simple exchange of a few coins from the groom's father to the bride's father as a token of `buying' the girl into the family.

  Kitarisa saw the spilled sack of gold on her father's table and knew at once that Assur's offer was far more serious. She had no knowledge of Talesian customs. For all she knew, he could be buying her as a slave. Or, as ancient custom dictated, he could easily `sell' her for profit.

  Assur had taken her at her word and kept his own promise. He was freeing her from her father's imprisoning hold by doing the only thing he could do legally--pay her bride-price--and only she could refuse him. What he did with her if she accepted his offer was something she could scarcely imagine, but she would be free of Kazan.

  "While you will have my oaths and bonds, my lady, by Talesian law, they are not binding. You may accept my offer, for now."

  Kitarisa looked up. All of his anger had vanished, Kazan forgotten. His look was gentle, almost tender.

  "I accept you, my Lord Assur," she said softly, scarcely hearing or believing her own voice.

  Assur took a half step back from her and turned to make good his promise. With a firm stroke, he made a short cut on the inner side of his arm, just above the left armguard. He placed the knife into her left hand and then before Kitarisa could pull away, he took her right hand and touched her fingertips to the wound.

  Unlike Kuurus, his grip was not as rough, but infinitely careful as if he feared he would break her hand in the course of his ritual. Kuurus had folded her fingers over the stain of blood in her hand, but Assur took her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss into her palm. Long forgotten desire shot through her, so powerful, so alarming, she nearly snatched her hand away from him.

  "Kuurus has given you his Oath of Duty. You have my Oath of Devotion." He bent lower so Kazan would not hear him.

  "You are not my bride, not yet Kitarisa. While I have bought your hand, your affections I will have to earn."

  He reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled something out, something gleaming and beautiful. He took up her other hand and dropped the object into it. Kitarisa gasped. It was a heavy chain of intricately patterned gold, in an endless design of entwining roses and dangling from it, a lustrous pearl, smoky black and gleaming with its own dark fire.

  "My Lord Assur, it is unbelievably beautiful! I am honored by your gift. Thank you." Unexpected tears filled her eyes. The chain itself was worth a fortune--the pearl was probably priceless. Kitarisa suddenly realized she had no honor gift to return to him. As if reading her mind, he spoke again.

  "There is no need for an honor gift, my lady. Simply wearing it will be enough."

  She had no other place to set his knife except on the table and then, looping her thumbs through the chain so she would not get any of the blood still staining her fingers on it or on her gown, she slipped the necklace over her head; the pearl dangled nearly to her waist. Shyly, she glanced up at him. His face was unreadable, but she was certain she detected his obvious pleasure.

  "An expensive gift from a mercenary, Daughter. Evidently swords-for-hire make an excellent living," Kazan sneered. "It appears you will do well as a barbarian's woman."

  The warrior's look returned to Assur's eyes. He swung on Kazan, his entire posture now rigid with contempt.

  "I shall come for the Lady Kitarisa tomorrow, before the mid of the day," he said coldly.

  Assur offered no bow to Kazan, but gave Kitarisa a short nod of his head. He turned on his heel and strode out of the audience chamber as if he were leaving to prepare for battle.

  Chapter 8

  KITARISA SET the basket on the table and wiped her hands on her wide apron. She loved this room with its low ceiling and stout beams. It smelled of fresh herbs and damp earth, of sweet grains and drying flowers. It was too small a stillroom for such a large keep, but Kitarisa managed to make the best use of the shelves and the cupboards where she kept her precious herbs.

  It was quiet and dim in her little apothecary and it was here she escaped her father's torments and Alea's whining voice. It was here old Nans had taught her the rudiments of her craft--the gathering and drying, the crushing and measuring. Nans had been a very exacting teacher for such a young pupil, but Kitarisa learned quickly. She learned how recognize the poisonous rimwort from the precious borgonwort--the multiple uses of the saffa flower and how to properly dry it. Nans had instructed her on simple bandaging and how to stitch a wound, but Kitarisa's lessons abruptly ended when Nans succumbed to the damp of the winter and the keep. Even Kitarisa's faithful ministrations could not help.

  Nans died peacefully in her sleep, while the ten-year-old princess knelt by her bed and wept for the loss of her cherished companion and for the last link to her mother. It was Nans who had comforted her from Kazan's cruelties, buffered Alea's tempers, Alor's pranks and made her feel wanted. And it was in this room she had first met Rhynn. Her apothecary had become a haven for those with the minor scrapes and bruises from everyday life.

  Rhynn had taken a small sword cut on his cheek during practice and dutifully reported to her to have the wound cleaned. He nearly filled the small, low-ceilinged stillroom, and Kitarisa found herself blushing and fumbling with unaccustomed clumsiness. He had been quietly amused and patient--his dark eyes danced with mischief while he submitted to her trembling fingers and stammering advice. She loved him from that moment.

  Kitarisa bit her lip at the memory and forced back a sudden rush of tears. It was no use weeping for him now. He was with Verlian and safe from Kazan's torture.

  She took care separating the little bunches of maiden lily from the brittle cat's thorn--the cat's thorn made the best red dye, but she had to use it quickly before it lost all its pungency. Maiden lily was wonderful as a mild sleeping tonic and Lady Falla always asked her for a small packet to help with her insomnia.

  Kitarisa had to hurry, there wasn't enough time to take anything with her now that she would be going with Assur. Only some borgonwort and few others of her precious herbs would be packed.

  She allowed herself the briefest of moments to wonder what her life would be like with Assur. Any discussion of Talesian history and society had been strictly forbidden by Kazan. Even Nans' whispered information had been sketchy at best. For all Kitarisa knew she could be harnessed to a cart or beaten to death at her lord's slightest whim. Somehow, she knew Assur would not treat her cruelly, but the uncertainty of her future stretched out before her like a dark chasm, unknown and forbidding.

  She busied herself with the bunches of flowers and did not at first hear the door open or see Alea slip into the room.

  "Always busy with your twigs and things?" Alea commented.

  "My `twigs and things' have eased many of your discomforts, Alea."

  The girl moved to the opposite side of the table to watch Kitarisa work. Her bright gold hair had been caught in a simple headdress of pink and rose silk that matched the shimmering hues in her gown. Completely restored from her ordeal, Alea had firmly reestablished herself as Kazan's favorite.

  "What is it this time, more potions for your barbarians?" she asked. Alea fingered some of the herbs, making a disgusted face as if they were tainted.

  "I am making a sleeping tonic for Lady Falla--you know she sleeps poorly. Please give them to me, Alea." She reached across the table and took the herb bundles from Alea's hand.
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  "I did not mean to upset you, I was only curious. You do so many interesting things Kita--like growing herbs and making little tonics. And you save the lives of ugly barbarians. He's finally rewarded you, hasn't he? Rather handsomely, too." She fiarched one pale brow at her.

  Kitarisa's head snapped up. "What do you mean?"

  "Well, I only meant that some men are more willing to show their gratitude than others--and their admiration. A pearl that size can only mean he is completely devoted to you." She paused, as if calculating the weight of her next words. "Or, it means that your bride-price was rather expensive. How much did he pay for you, Kita?"

  "That is none of your concern," she said sharply.

  Alea shrugged. "Maybe. Really, Kita, I did not think you would fancy a savage mercenary like him. Of course, there is no accounting for taste." She sniffed delicately.

  "`Taste', has nothing to do with it. Lord Assur has paid honorable bride-price for me and I accepted."

  "And you would willingly go with a such bloody-thirsty creature? I am surprised at you."

  "What would you have me do, Alea? Stay here and rot in this keep?"

  Alea's eyes narrowed to almost reptilian slits. "Father has no intention of letting you go with the Talesian."

  "What do you mean?" she demanded. "One way or another, I will be free of this place and from father. If it means going with a `savage' then I will do it and remember, that savage saved your life--rescued you from certain death. It took four of them to kill that marglim, or have you forgotten already?"

  "It was their duty," Alea said lifting her chin defiantly.

  Kitarisa looked down at the table and sighed. Was there no end to her vanity?

  "I cannot believe there is anyone more selfish and spoiled than you. Do you really believe they killed that marglim because it was their duty? You are more stupid than I thought."

  "How dare you speak to me in that manner...I'll...I'll have you punished!"

  "You deserve the punishment," Kitarisa snapped back. Alea's bickering was infuriating and it took all her self-control not to slap her again. "I wish I had slapped you harder. Perhaps it would have beaten some sense in you."

  It was easier to retaliate now that she knew Alea's game. Complicated plotting was not her strength. The girl had only the wits for petty revenge--a skill she used with pinpoint accuracy. Her advantage was that Kazan believed her and always championed her cruel little schemes.

  "You will not slap me again, Kitarisa, or do anything else to me or Alor. You will not be going away with Lord Assur, as you think."

  Kitarisa's eyes widened, genuinely surprised. "Father cannot simply ignore Assur's oath and bond--the Ter-Rey ordered him--"

  "You will not be so proud when I tell you what father intends to do with you."

  "What does he intend? Poison again? I do not think he would be that foolish, besides isn't a bride-price enough to be rid of me?"

  Alea smiled cruelly at her, a look both triumphant and smug twisting her pretty features. "Father does not think you are worthy of the barbarian. He intends for you to be sent to the Catacombs to take vows to the Sisters! You will be taught obedience and manners. I understand they are quite strict, but then devotion to the Divine Medruth is a lifetime commitment. I am sure you will make an excellent Sister with your knowledge of weeds and tonics."

  Kitarisa felt more than just weak and ill. She sank down on the bench by the table, pale and genuinely afraid. She felt her blood race through her--her heart hammered painfully in her chest.

  By Verlian's sacred blood, this cannot be true. It would have been better if she were poisoned than to face a life in the Catacombs. And what of Assur's bride-price? Was Kazan foolish enough to anger the Talesian by not honoring their agreement?

  "At last we will be free of you, Kitarisa," Alea went on. "Alor will take his rightful place on the Falcon Throne in Riehl and I will marry into a great house from Maretstan--and when father dies, we will inherit Gorendt."

  "He cannot do this. He cannot," she managed to whisper. "I have accepted Lord Assur. Father cannot simply ignore the agreement."

  Alea smiled cruelly. "He will! You had better find someone to take over your apothecary, because there will be no one to help poor Lady Falla or ugly barbarians!"

  Alea whirled on her heel, her heavy skirt flying around her legs as she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

  The bundle of maiden lily crumbled in Kitarisa's hand. To be sent to the White Sisters was worse than death--a lifetime spent in the dark Catacombs worshiping their dead goddess and learning how to drain the life from the living and use it for their own vile purposes. It was a place of madness and unspeakable horrors.

  She remembered Rhynn telling her of the day when his little sister had been taken from them before their very eyes and he and his father had been left helpless to do anything. The Wrathmen were not only skilled swordsmen, but had used their liet'fa, to keep them immobilized on their knees.

  "We could not move for hours, and the pain was unendurable" Rhynn said grimly, recalling the incident. "And we never saw her again. Never. Have you ever seen them, Kitarisa? A White Sister? When they are finally accepted to the order, their hair turns white and their eyes lose all their color. It is enough to turn your stomach."

  Kitarisa stood and straightened her apron. She would rather die then submit to such a punishment. Alea would certainly go to her father and fill him with her lies. He would certainly believe them, too. It did not matter anyway. Kazan was determined to be rid of her even if it meant banishment, regardless of the dishonor to Assur. Her father's resentment and Alea's vanity were bottomless.

  She wished she did not feel so helpless, there was no one with whom she could confide. Her father's soldiers, as cowed and servile as they had become, were completely useless. She had no friends and she certainly did not trust Jesria.

  Tentatively, she touched the packet of sleeping herbs for Lady Falla. Maybe there was one. And quite suddenly, Kitarisa remembered the saddle knife on her dressing table.

  BY DUSK KITARISA found herself again standing in Kazan's smaller audience chamber. Kazan sat impassively, staring at her as she stood before him, gaze lowered, but her back was straight and her shoulders unbowed. He had always resented her subdued defiance. Kitarisa had long-ago lost any respect she may have held for him, but she had not lost her fear. It was to his advantage and he would not hesitate in using it.

  He shifted his bulk in the chair and cleared his throat.

  "So, you are to be a barbarian's bride," he began without preamble. "I am disappointed in you, Kitarisa."

  "His request was honorable," she retorted. "And you were well-paid."

  Kazan bridled at her quick tongue. "Honorable or not, his request is impossible."

  Kitarisa looked up and saw only a smug complacency stamped on her father's heavy features.

  "What do you mean, `impossible?'" she asked as Kazan stood up and moved over to her. He plucked the dangling pearl from her gown, clenching it in one meaty fist.

  "You will have no need for pearls or other trinkets in the Catacombs, Kitarisa. I am afraid you will have to disappoint your eager bridegroom."

  "You cannot dismiss Lord Assur's request that simply. He is not Rhynn, Father. He is close to the Ter-Rey and whatever happens here will surely be reported to him!"

  Kazan let go of the pearl and whirled away from her.

  "The Ter-Rey is none of your concern. You will do as you are told, Daughter. I have decided you will renounce Gorendt and Riehl and take holy vows to the Sisters. I have always felt that the Catacombs was the best place for you."

  He turned around again to see the shock on her face. Kitarisa stumbled back a step, staring at him in horror. Alea had been right after all. He had no intention of letting her go to Assur or anyone else. The gold talins would be spent on more weapons and she would live out her days in a labyrinth of madness.

  "No," she managed to whisper, still looking at him and fitting the last piece
of his malicious scheme into place. "You have always wanted me to go to the Catacombs, haven't you? The abduction to Sherehn Keep was only an excuse to get me out of the way. Only Alea was to have been saved and I was to have been taken to the Sisters. Only it failed, didn't it? You hadn't counted on Talesians rescuing us did you?"

  Kazan looked as close to embarrassment as a man of his nature could manage. He met her gaze steadily, his hard, black eyes never leaving her face.

  "You will better serve the interests of Gorendt as a White Sister," he said coldly. "And yes, I will be rid of you Kitarisa. You've been nothing but a festering sore to me--you and your wretched mother!"

  He turned from her and strode to the long table and picked up a large document, already sealed with his wax insignia and the fluttering green and black ribbons.

  "You will torment me no longer, Kitarisa. The last of your arrogant, self-seeking line will die with you--I will make sure of it. This," he said, holding up the document, "is your formal and public Letter of Renunciation to the thrones of Gorendt and Riehl. You will sign it now, Kitarisa. You will make full confession--that you wish the contemplative life of a holy sister and retreat to the Catacombs."

  "You cannot do this! I refuse!"

  Kazan dropped the document on the table and in one movement, grabbed her upper arm, his large fingers biting painfully into her flesh. He jerked her toward him, nearly lifting her off her feet.

  "You will do as you're told, girl. You will sign and you will leave for the Catacombs at dawn."

  "And if I do not?" she stormed back at him. "What will you do, torture me to death like you did Rhynn? The eyes of the Ter-Rey are upon us, Father. Each one of those "barbarians" is acting on behalf of the High Prince and you know it. If anything happens to me, he would know it, too. I do not think you would be so stupid as to bring down his wrath upon your head. Perhaps it would be simpler if you just poisoned me!"

  Kazan's backhanded blow came swiftly, striking Kitarisa on her right cheek and sending her reeling into the table. Blood oozed from the corner of her mouth where her lip had been crushed into her teeth. She dabbed at it with the back of her hand, trying not to show him the pain or her tears.