Leon watched as he crossed the floor and attempted to lead Fendill and Pernus away. The men struggled as they watched their prince. Leon signalled them to go peacefully. They reluctantly ceased struggling and were led out.
“You are here, as I understand it, to woo my daughter.” Leon’s next surprise was Suklar’s directness.
“Yes. I have heard she is very beautiful.” He decided a return of the king’s directness would be to his advantage. “There is no denying the great benefit to both our nations if this union were to come to pass. We have the climate and land to grow an abundance of food, which you lack, and you have the mines, which produce many of the raw materials scarce in our country.” Leon stood with his chest out, arms relaxed by his side, as he waited for an answer.
“It is true my daughter is of marrying age, however, you are only one of many possibilities. I will study you whilst you are here to see if you posses the particular qualities I expect from any man fortunate enough to marry my daughter. You and your two companions will join us for dinner tonight. You may meet Princess Tusklar and we will see if she favours pursuing the matter any further.” The king rose and was immediately joined by a second black-clad man who had stood invisibly at his right shoulder. They slipped out through the charcoal expanse behind the throne.
Leon was alone for a short time. He jumped and turned at a voice, “Come with me.” The same black-clad man, at least he thought, had quietly returned to lead him to his sleeping chambers. The man did not speak as he led Leon through the black and white corridors. They ascended three flights of stairs. Their passage ended in a dark stone door similar to the one guarding the throne room. This door had yet another black-clad man at either side, and opened in a similar shimmer. Leon was still in awe at the function of the door. He was led inside to an opulent set of rooms, his bed contained in the third room they entered. The silent man gestured that Leon should stay.
Leon spent his first few minutes alone pacing his apartments. He had a feeling he would get to know these rooms very well over the next few weeks, if they allowed him to stay that long. He knew he was considered handsome, and he had a way with women. Yes. He was sure he would be asked to stay.
The obsidian door was closed, however there was a second, smaller, timber door within the first reception room. He tried it. It opened. On the other side he found Pernus and Fendill. Each man sat on a single bed at either end of the room. It appeared Pernus had been stripped of his weapons.
Another obsidian door, leading to the hallway outside, stood opposite the door where Leon stood. Candles in a centrally hanging chandelier lit the windowless room. Pernus lay nonchalantly on his bed, while Fendill jumped up and surveyed his prince, almost sniffing him as a dog would. “Did they hurt you?”
“No. As you can see I’m just as healthy as when you left.”
“I wouldn’t have left, but that you commanded it. Was that such a wise thing to do, my Prince?”
“Quiet your distress, Fendill. I can take care of myself. They are relatively civilized, and to what purpose would they kill me, unless they wanted to start a war with my brother.”
“You have a point. So, then, how did the meeting go?”
“It went as well as I could have expected. The three of us are to join them for dinner tonight where we will meet her royal highness, Princess Tusklar.”
Pernus laughed. “Not much of a name. I wonder if she has tusks.”
Leon frowned at the unwanted addition to their party. “I am led to believe in a direct translation, it means ‘daughter of Suklar’.”
Pernus nodded, his smile remained in place.
“I have received no instructions other than we join the king for dinner tonight. I assume we will be spending our time locked in here for the afternoon. I suggest we all get some rest. Do not disturb me. I will return for you when we are summoned.” Leon ignored the raised eyebrow from Pernus, choosing only to notice the bow of respect from Fendill. He returned to his chambers and lay on the bed.
Leon refused to show any signs of weakness, which included impatience and fear. None of them knew what to expect, however he was not going to waste time imagining the worst scenarios. He closed his eyes and tried to visualize what his future wife would look like. It wasn’t long until he fell asleep, however his dreams couldn’t be controlled, and they were filled with an unseen terror. When one of the black clad men woke him, he was covered in sweat. He tried to shake off the lingering feeling of dread. It was not until he was bathed and changed that a sense of normalcy returned.
This time the grey-clad man who had initially brought them to see King Suklar, led them to dinner. They descended two flights of stairs and headed toward the rear of the castle. As they neared the dining room, they were enticed by pleasant aromas of food they had never before encountered; that was something Leon hadn’t considered. Would they eat similar food to what they were used to, or would they be expected to eat some atrocity. He recalled the lack of cats and dogs on the streets of Inkra. “Pernus, tonight you will be my official taster, an honour I would not trust with anyone, but you.” He slapped Pernus on the back hard enough to sting.
“Gee, thanks for the honour.” Fendill gave Pernus a sympathetic look. Though Fendill loyally served his prince, he knew of Leon’s shortcomings, yet held the hope that Leon would eventually show some small kindness or consideration for someone other than himself. When that happened, Fendill would feel justified in standing by him.
They were led into a large, rectangular room. Twelve heavy, crystal chandeliers hung in a line, from wall to wall, in the centre of the ceiling. They presided between two long timber tables, each inlaid table seating fifty people. The king and his daughter were seated at the head of one, Leon and his men were told to sit at the other. Leon felt another flash of temper. Had he come all this way to endure insult after insult? He breathed deeply and let his frustration out with the breath. He was seated between his two men. They, in turn, were seated next to two older, dark-haired Inkrans. Conversation within the dining hall was subdued, as it had been in the city.
Pernus attempted a conversation with his neighbour, however discovered he didn’t speak his language. As he sat and listened to those around him, he realised that no one spoke Verdonese, the most common language in Talia. Pernus turned to Leon, “Do you think the princess speaks Verdonese, or just gibberish.”
“The king speaks Verdonese so I’m assuming she has been educated in our language.” Leon looked toward the king and his daughter. He couldn’t see clearly from where he was, however, he could see she had the same fair, wavy hair as her father, which cascaded over her shoulders to her waist. She smiled at those around her and was the centre of attention. The king looked at her in disapproval, maybe at her exuberance. She was dressed modestly in a pink dress that started just below her neck and continued to the floor. Her arms were covered to the wrists. Dark brown hands protruded from the delicate, lace sleeves.
She looked up and saw Leon watching. She coyly lowered her eyes, and then looked up again through dark, thick lashes. Leon smiled. She smiled back, impressing him with her perfectly straight, white teeth. She turned to answer someone’s question and didn’t look at him again. The king noticed the exchange, however gave no clue as to what he thought.
The food arrived on silver platters. The royal table was served first. Each person served themselves from the main platters. The silver cutlery had handles worked with interlocking triangles, the goblets clear crystal, cut with a similar pattern. The plates were of hand-painted gold and silver, the artwork depicting small birds on delicate spring foliage.
Everyone ate without conversation, the people around them keeping their eyes on the food. It was as if it were a crime to watch someone eat. When Leon spoke, he whispered. All three men watched their surroundings, taking in all the information they could about this strange society. Leon was true to his word and made Pernus try each dish, before he would consume any. Pernus assured Leon the tastes were familiar, although
more spicy than they were used to. Fragrant rice was served to mop up the exotic sauces in which the meat was cooked, and Leon enjoyed the food. It was a nice change to be taking his meal in warm, comfortable surroundings, instead of a hard camp chair, set into snow around a small, pathetic fire.
When the main course ended, the plates were removed. Clean plates were brought out, which Leon assumed would be for dessert. Before any more food was forthcoming, their escort tapped Leon on the shoulder. He bent over and whispered in Leon’s ear, “King Suklar commands your presence. Whilst you are at the table do not stare at Princess Tusklar. It is against our religion. Klar punishes those who deserve it.”
The warning sounded violent, delivered with the Inkran’s harsh accent. Leon rolled his eyes. He was heartily sick of their ridiculous customs; it seemed their society was based on worshipping Klar, Suklar, and his daughter. If you weren’t one of these three beings you must whisper and keep your head bowed. Things were going to change around here when he took charge.
Everyone stared as Leon rose and made his way to the other table. It seemed they could take notice, sometimes. He bowed when he reached the table and was rewarded with a gesture from Suklar, to sit at his designated chair opposite the princess. Suklar sat at his daughter’s left and on Suklar’s left side, next to Leon, sat Orphael, Suklar’s realmist. That Klar would allow a realmist to interfere with his religion shocked Leon. It was as if Orphael could read Leon’s mind. “We work with, not against Klar’s ordinances. I am here to give information and assistance on the safety of Inkra. I am also the one who schooled Suklar in Verdonese.”
Orphael was of medium build, yet still taller than those around him. His thin, straight hair hung in brown and grey strands to his shoulders. His unnaturally smooth, pale face looked sickly against his grey robe. No coloured stripes decorated his collar. More gold jewellery adorned his fingers and neck than the wealthiest madam in Bayerlon. Leon imagined his face painted with rouge and lipstick. His mouth twitched.
Despite annoyance at having to follow their archaic customs, he was polite, and refrained from staring at the princess, although he chanced a few glances. He was definitely pleased with what he saw. She was a pretty woman, not stunningly beautiful, but attractive enough. Her eyes were the same cold blue as her father’s, her nose small and slightly flat and her strong chin had a rectangular finish. Her smooth skin, a shade darker than olive despite the lack of sun, stretched over high cheekbones.
The king regarded Leon in a cold and calculating way. Orphael made polite conversation, probably designed to find out as much about Leon as he could.
Above the whispers came a sweet, feminine voice. “Why do you not look at me, Prince Leon? Does my face displease you?”
Leon turned to face Princess Tusklar, then to the king. “May I speak with the beautiful princess your highness?” Leon couldn’t believe he was pandering to these upstarts, but he was here with a goal and he wasn’t going to achieve it without marrying Tusklar.
“You may speak.”
Leon turned to stare into her frosty blue eyes, sensing a kindred soul, something that surprised him. “On the contrary, your highness. Your face is the most stunning I have seen. Your beauty far outweighs any woman I have previously observed. I am honoured to be in the same room as you. It is almost too much that I am speaking to you. Please forgive me if I say anything foolish.”
She smiled. It had a certain devious quality about it that excited Leon.
“You speak Verdonese very well. Have you studied it long?”
Suklar interrupted. “She has studied it since she was a young child. I think you have spoken long enough.”
Suklar ignored his daughter’s angry stare and motioned the grey man to show Leon back to his table for dessert. Leon bowed low to Tusklar. “Although I may never have the opportunity to speak with you again, I will never forget this night. Thank you, Princess.”
Her face lit up at his flattery and in his defiance of her father. No one would dare insult the king, as Leon had done, by forgoing a departing bow. Suklar’s face did not change, but his eyes were as hard as the basalt walls that surrounded them.
Leon strode proudly back to his table, almost expecting to be ordered to the dungeons there and then. Pernus had seen the whole exchange. He couldn’t hear what was said, but, after Leon had turned his back on the table, the king had very harsh words with his daughter. At this point the whole table studied their plates as if they held the answers to all their problems. Leon returned somewhat triumphant. “I think you’ve opened a wasps nest with that one.”
“Don’t worry, Pernus, I have everything under control.”
“Could you at least wipe that smirk off your face? There’s no point enraging that man any more.” Pernus worried for their safety. He was sure if the king took offence to Leon, they would all suffer the same fate, regardless of who had caused his displeasure.
Leon leaned down to Pernus, shoving his face close to the soldier’s, noses practically touching. His face was hard and his voice a low growl. “Do not presume to tell me what to do. The fact that my brother has sent you here means nothing to me. I have killed people for less. Do not give me an excuse.”
Fendill could not hear all of what was said, however he heard enough. The longer this foray continued, the more he fretted about where his alliances lay. Could he have so misjudged the prince? He chose to shrug it off for now. His priority was getting them all out of this alive, if Leon didn’t make it impossible.
Pernus shook his head. Prince Leon was a bigger fool than he had thought. He hoped the king would forgive him, but he wasn’t sure how long he could continue to fulfill his duties. If someone else didn’t kill Leon, maybe he would. They ate their dessert in silence. If Talia needed unity to survive, things were not looking good.
Princess Tusklar retired to her rooms after her father’s dismissal of the handsome prince from Veresia. She smiled to herself. He was quite a catch, and at least had some character about him. Most of the men she had been introduced to wouldn’t dare risk upsetting her father, let alone insulting him in front of others. She wondered why he hadn’t ordered him to death. She had already made up her mind, because the voice in her head had told her he was the one. The voice had also told her he was cruel, and she liked cruel. Together they would overthrow her father and take Inkra for themselves. She hadn’t decided whether or not she would keep him alive when that was done. The voice in her head cackled and suggested she was not unlike one of those spiders that made love to its partner and then ate him alive. She liked that analogy, laughing at the thought. She craved sleep tonight; it would make the morning arrive sooner. Tomorrow would bring them one day closer to fulfilling her destiny. The voice in her head agreed and bade her goodnight; it too, was looking forward to the future, and the havoc it would wreak on the humans.
17
Avruellen and the girls had been travelling for nine days after leaving Bayerlon. As they rode up to the northern gates of Pollona, Avruellen still sensed they were being watched, but from afar. The urgency she felt on leaving Bayerlon had abated, slightly. As they had travelled they had developed a routine to setting up and dismantling their camp. Everyone had done her share of the chores, and other than the ongoing friction with Corrille, nothing monumental had occurred. Bronwyn and her friend had obeyed her and had managed not to cause too much trouble. The only argument the girls had, occurred at one of the inns along the way. There had been a group of young men enjoying an ale after work, and the most handsome of them had taken a liking to Bronwyn. Avruellen had allowed the girls to chat with the boys; she had no wish for them not to enjoy their youth, and as they were leaving in the morning, nothing much could come of it.
Corrille, unfortunately, was the jealous type who required everyone’s constant attention. Avruellen assumed it was because of her low self-esteem, but whatever the reason, the outcome was the same. If she wasn’t getting the bulk of attention, she became argumentative and bullied Bronwyn into the ba
ckground. Bronwyn wasn’t fond of confrontation, so put up with the ill treatment. Unusually, the young man could see through Corrille’s tactics—men were not always that clever when it came to women. He insisted on paying attention to Bronwyn instead, which only inflamed Corrille.
When they had left the boys, and gone up to their room, Corrille verbally attacked Bronwyn, accusing her of being a selfish, egotistical cow. Bronwyn hadn’t bothered to defend herself, as she felt sorry for her friend and had an idea why she was upset. Corrille, in her feisty mood, had continued insulting her until she had provoked a reaction. Both girls ended up saying things they regretted.
Avruellen could see Corrille constantly competed with her niece. It was true that Corrille had been badly abused, but that excuse would only go so far with Avruellen. There would come a point where she would have to pull the young lady into line before she caused real trouble. Since the latest incident, Avruellen had tried to keep the girls from situations where there was potential for Corrille to show her worst side. She had been successful so far, however they were entering their destination.
Pollona was a smallish city, with thousands of inhabitants. Being on the border of Veresia and Wyrden, it provided a meeting place for many. The city lay lazily on two large hills, a wide valley in between. From a distance it appeared to be two large dragons sleeping next to each other, noses facing to the north. Gates opened up to both ends of the valley and watchtowers perched on the tops of both hills. High stone walls traced the ridges at the top of either hill, like protruding spines of dragons, and houses spilled down one side of either dragon to face each other over the gap in between.
Shadows of the Realm (The Circle of Talia) Page 16
