Khalshir (Kingmakers Book 1)

by Jaye McKenna

  “I was thirteen when I lost my brother,” Rio said. “He was my whole world. I… understand.”

  Danakho gave him a small, sad smile and turned back to the window. He remained there in the window seat, silent and still, until Pendrin came to gently suggest he get ready for dinner.

  Rio stood guard by the bedroom door while Pendrin and Danakho went into the dressing room. Danakho said nothing while Pendrin clucked over the bruise he’d have on his cheek and solemnly reminded him not to anger his father.

  When Danakho was dressed to Pendrin’s satisfaction, Rio escorted him down to the dining room, which was guarded by two of Lord Jherek’s personal guard. It was another half hour before Coryn arrived for shift change.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “I witnessed a shoddy wagon inspection as I was headed to the briefing, and by the time I was done shouting at the gate guards and reporting it to Lieutenant Fiersin…” He shrugged. “No sense in paying us if they’re going to let assassins sneak in clinging to the bottom of a wagon.”

  Rio grinned. “They’ll learn. Or they won’t, and we’ll have our work cut out for us. Did you dig up any leads on Haiden’s death?”

  “Not yet. I talked to Hawk after you went on duty. She gave me a list of Lord Jherek’s rivals, but there are a lot of them. We’ll need to be on our toes. How was your afternoon?”

  “Rough. He went to his father to complain about being watched all the time and got backhanded for his trouble.”

  A muscle in Coryn’s jaw twitched, but he said only, “Not our business, not our problem.”

  “I know, but—”

  “Rio.” Ice-blue eyes drilled into him. “Do not fuck this up.”

  “I won’t,” Rio murmured, reminding himself his job was to guard Danakho’s life, nothing more. How Lord Jherek treated his son was none of his concern.

  But when he lay down to sleep that night, he couldn’t stop seeing those soft, golden eyes full of grief and shadows.

  Chapter Three

  Rio endured four interminable days before Danakho’s schedule changed. Days during which Danakho did little more than loll about in his suite. When he wasn’t in Haiden’s room staring out the window, he was picking out old tunes on a eulalia, the same stringed instrument Rio played when he took up the guise of Alenko, the wandering minstrel.

  Danakho was clearly a skilled musician, but every piece he played dripped with melancholy, and after four days of it, Rio was nearly ready to snap at him.

  On the morning of the fifth day, Hawk announced at briefing that Danakho’s new tutor, Mistress Orlina, had arrived the previous evening. She was being housed in the guest wing, and would be taking up her duties this morning.

  Danakho didn’t seem at all pleased by this new development. After breakfast, he started for his room, and when Rio reminded him of the change in his schedule, he scowled and dragged his feet all the way to the library.

  Mistress Orlina was a tiny, older woman with bright black eyes and greying black hair. Spry and alert, she reminded Rio of a kirit, a tiny bird native to the jungles around Vhalion. The little birds were constantly in motion. Rio had always been fascinated by them, to the point of choosing a kirit design for the Guild tattoo inked on his right shoulder blade.

  While Danakho slouched over to the table and took a seat across from the tutor, Rio did a quick walk around the room, checked the windows to make sure they were latched, then stationed himself by the door.

  “Your father’s told me quite a lot about you,” Mistress Orlina began.

  Danakho hunched his shoulders and stared down at the table. “I imagine he has,” he murmured.

  “Frankly, I’m not nearly as interested in what he has to say about you as what you have to say about yourself.”

  Slowly, Danakho lifted his eyes to stare at the tutor.

  “What subjects interest you the most?” she asked.

  “None of them,” Danakho mumbled, dropping his gaze.

  “What about music? Does that interest you?”

  Danakho’s head jerked up. “That’s not… I mean… he’s not going to allow that. He wants me to learn how to run his business. Law. Economics. Accounting.” His pale cheeks flushed, and he shot a glance at Rio, who quickly averted his eyes. “I… I’m no good at… at any of that.”

  “Hmm. We’ll see about that. One of the things your father was most insistent about was having you learn to speak Djhara, so I think we’ll begin with that.”

  A choking sound came from Danakho, and his cheeks flushed bright red. “Didn’t he tell you? I can’t…” He lowered his voice, but in the quiet of the library, Rio was easily able to hear his halting confession. “I… I can’t… read. Not… anything. Not a single word.”

  Mistress Orlina gave him an encouraging smile. “I am aware there have been some… difficulties in that area. We’ll tackle those later. For now, I’d like to start with the things you can do. I’m told you enjoy music, so I think you’ll find learning Djhara to be quite appealing. It’s a lyrical, musical language, and just listening to it is a pleasure, if one has the ear for it.” Then the tutor introduced herself to Danakho in Djhara, and told him a little bit about her background.

  Danakho cocked his head as he listened, clearly fascinated.

  If he hadn’t learned the language as a child, Rio might have been impressed, but as it was, he couldn’t help but wince as the tutor committed multiple linguistic atrocities. Mistress Orlina might have a grasp of the structure and vocabulary of the language, but her accent was terrible. She’d never make herself understood in the Westlands.

  Rio listened for a few excruciating minutes before he could stand it no longer, and cut in, repeating the last sentence she’d spoken.

  Both Danakho and Mistress Orlina turned to look at him, the tutor studying him with sharp, black eyes. “You’re a native speaker,” she said.

  In truth, he wasn’t; the desert tribes used Kharran for the most part, relying on Djhara only for trade. He’d picked Djhara up quickly enough on the streets of Vhalion, and during his training with the Guild he’d learned how to speak it like a native. “Ai, ma’am. I grew up in Vhalion.”

  “And yet you speak Aeia with no discernible accent. I’d never have suspected you came from the Westlands.” She tapped her nails on the polished tabletop. “Come and join us. You can assist me.”

  “Sorry, ma’am.” Rio shook his head. “I was hired to guard Master Danakho’s life.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she glanced about the room. “I don’t see any assassins in here.”

  “That’s only because I’m here, ma’am,” Rio said gravely. “I can only imagine the chaos that might ensue should I leave my post.”

  Mistress Orlina’s lips twitched. “One of Lord Jherek’s guardsmen is posted just outside the door.”

  “Ai, ma’am.”

  “Well, I should think he’ll provide adequate warning should hordes of assassins descend upon us to disturb our lessons. Come and sit.”

  “My orders are to guard Master Danakho, ma’am.”

  “We shall see about that.” Mistress Orlina got to her feet. “I’ll just go and have a quick word with Lord Jherek. He’s already paying you to be here. He might as well make good use of you. While I’m gone, you can speak Djhara to Master Danakho here, so he can hear what it’s supposed to sound like.”

  Danakho chewed on his lip, but didn’t say anything until the tutor had closed the library door behind her. The moment she was gone, his soft, golden-brown eyes shifted to Rio. “Vhalion. That’s in the Westlands, isn’t it?”

  Rio nodded. “Ai. On the coast of the Sea of Dreams.”

  “What’s it like?”

  “It’s a big port city. Not a lot different from Galena or Akhat. The weather is warm and a lot wetter than in Akhat, but the people are much the same as anywhere else.”

  “You’ve been all those places? Galena… Akhat…” Danakho stared down at the table. “I’ve never been any farther west than the city. I’ve been
to Altan, though, across the Dragon’s Spine. I’ve spent lots of summers there with my mother’s family. She went back there right before you and Coryn came. I wanted to go with her, but…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

  As a member of the Khalshir Guild on bodyguard duty, Rio was supposed to be as invisible as he could make himself. He was not to be fraternizing with his charge. Was, in fact, not to speak at all, except as necessary to carry out his duties.

  But the wistful look in Danakho’s eyes and the weary sadness in his voice went right to Rio’s gut. “Your father won’t allow it?”

  “Not since my brother—” Danakho pressed his lips together and squeezed his eyes shut for a few moments. When he opened them, they were shimmering with tears. “He’d never let Mother take both of us at the same time. I think… I think he feared if she did, she wouldn’t come back. So one of us always had to stay behind. Once he declared Haiden his heir, he wouldn’t allow Haiden to go at all.”

  Before Rio could think how to respond to that, the door opened and Mistress Orlina came in, a spring in her step and a smile creasing her face. “I’ve spoken with Lord Jherek and he’s agreed that — what was your name again, young man?” She peered at Rio over her spectacles.

  “Rio, ma’am.”

  “Rio. That sounds tribal. Your family is originally from Karrakh?”

  “My mother was,” Rio lied, falling back on the story Bajhan had helped him construct. “My father was from Vhalion.” In truth, the only things he knew about his family were from the stories Tal had whispered to him when they’d huddled in their blankets on the common-room floor of the brothel where Tal had worked. His own memory didn’t go any further back than the raid that had destroyed his tribe. All that was left of his early childhood were his memories of Tal’s stories.

  Mistress Orlina nodded and continued. “I’ve explained the situation to Lord Jherek, and he has graciously agreed to post another guard outside the library during lessons so Rio might assist us.” She peered at Rio again. “If you are amenable?”

  “As long as Lord Jherek is in agreement, ma’am.” It would certainly be more interesting than standing by the door watching.

  Mistress Orlina beamed. “It will give me a chance to improve my own accent. My teacher was not a native speaker, as I’m sure you could tell.” She gestured for him to come and join them.

  After verifying the presence of the promised guardsman outside the library door, Rio took a seat at the table next to Danakho.

  “We’ll start with having Rio speak to us in Djhara,” Mistress Orlina said. “Danakho, don’t try to understand what he’s saying. Just listen to the rhythm and cadence of the language. I want you to note especially how different it sounds from Aeia. Whenever you’re ready, Rio.”

  “What do you want me to say?” Rio asked.

  “Tell us about Vhalion. Describe the area where you grew up.”

  Rio pictured Vhalion, the air heavy with moisture, the streets packed with people wearing brightly colored silks. He began to speak, describing the sights and sounds as he took a mental walk down the road from the brothel where he and Tal bedded down, through the crowded marketplace, and all the way down to the docks, where the big merchant ships from across the sea were moored.

  As he spoke, he struggled to keep his thoughts on the sights rather than the feelings they evoked. But memories of the brother who had given so much to protect him were intertwined so closely with each place that by the time he’d finished, his voice had thickened, and his eyes were burning. When he finally trailed off, Mistress Orlina and Danakho were both staring at him, expressions rapt.

  Danakho was the first to speak. “It’s like… like music.”

  “As Rio has demonstrated beautifully, Djhara is a flowing, lyrical language,” Mistress Orlina said. “Far softer and smoother than Aeia. It’s truly a joy to hear it properly spoken.”

  Rio’s cheeks warmed, and he lowered his eyes.

  “Can you teach me to speak it like that?” Danakho asked. “To make it sound that beautiful?”

  “If you practice,” Rio said, turning his head to look at Danakho, who nodded eagerly, eyes sparkling. For the first time since Rio had met him, he smiled. The smile transformed him. Rio had thought him beautiful before, but now, he looked positively radiant.

  He shouldn’t be thinking such things about the man he’d been hired to protect. Rio forced himself to tear his gaze away and focus on Mistress Orlina instead.

  * * *

  Dani smiled as he peered at his reflection. It felt odd to be wearing a smile that wasn’t forced or grim, almost as if his face had forgotten what a real smile felt like. Pleasant anticipation was not an emotion Dani was used to associating with his lessons. Today, however, he was looking forward to spending the morning listening to Rio’s intriguing voice caressing the liquid syllables of Djhara.

  To his surprise, Mistress Orlina hadn’t asked him to read a single word yesterday. She’d praised Dani’s pronunciation, and even better, Rio had said he had an ear for language. And Mistress Orlina had agreed with him.

  Dani shifted his weight impatiently while he waited for Pen to finish plaiting his hair, and caught sight of Coryn standing by the bedroom door, his face an impassive mask.

  Coryn didn’t speak unless spoken to, and answered only in a clipped monotone. He’d been here nearly a week, and Dani had yet to see him smile. He wondered if Coryn even knew how. Rio, on the other hand, would answer questions and elaborate if asked. He was much more pleasant company than Coryn. He’d even offered Dani several approving smiles during yesterday’s lesson.

  Dani aimed to work hard today and earn himself some more of those smiles.

  “You’re looking bright today, sir,” Pen said as he reached for a black ribbon to tie off Dani’s hair. “It’s a nice change, if you don’t mind my saying.”

  “I’m feeling brighter, Pen.” Dani met the valet’s eyes in the mirror. “Sorry I’ve been such beastly company lately.”

  Pen finished tying the ribbon, then patted Dani’s shoulder. “It’s understandable, Master Dani. I’m just glad things are finally settling down a bit.” He tugged at the waist of Dani’s breeches, which were quite loose, and said, “Perhaps you could try to eat a bit more? These used to be a bit tight on you.”

  “I’ll try, I promise. I feel quite hungry this morning. I haven’t felt hungry in a long time. And would you believe I’m looking forward to lessons today?”

  Pen arched an eyebrow and made a show of feeling Dani’s forehead for fever.

  Dani smiled. “No, I’m not ill. Whether by accident or design, Father’s actually hired a tutor I get along with. She’s teaching me Djhara without any books. Well, she and Rio are. Rio speaks it beautifully, and he has such a lovely voice. I could listen to him reading an inventory list, and it would still sound like music. Do you speak Djhara, Coryn?” Dani met Coryn’s cool stare in the mirror, then turned around to face him.

  Coryn’s expression didn’t change, but he said softly, “Ai, sir.”

  “Are you from the Westlands, too?”

  A faint frown drew Coryn’s dark eyebrows together, but he said only, “Ai, sir.”

  “Is that how you know Rio?”

  Coryn shifted his weight and hesitated for a few moments before giving him a reluctant, “Ai, sir.”

  Dani gave up. Coryn was clearly far too focused on his duty to be drawn into conversation. The walk down to the dining room was completed in silence, with Coryn staying a step behind him, so Dani couldn’t see his face. Not that he needed to; Coryn only had one expression — cold, unreadable, and unapproachable.

  Larrad was already sitting at the table heaping food onto his plate when Dani arrived in the dining room. Dani slipped into the seat opposite him, hoping Larrad would be too buried in his own thoughts to notice him.

  “How did your first lesson with Mistress Orlina go?” Larrad dropped a great dollop of butter on top of already greasy fried potatoes.

  “Quite well
, sir,” Dani said. “She’s teaching me to speak Djhara.” Recalling his promise to Pen to try and eat something, Dani perused the offerings. Breakfast in Larrad Jherek’s house was always a full spread, food enough for six, at least, even though it was just the two of them now. All of it was swimming in grease, and nothing looked particularly appetizing except, perhaps, the freshly baked loaf of nut bread sitting near his own spot.

  “How is she going to manage that if you don’t even know your letters?” Larrad’s narrowed brown eyes fixed on his son.

  “She says I can learn it by ear.” Dani selected the smallest piece of nut bread, covered it with a thin scraping of butter, and took a bite. It was warm and soft, with just the right amount of sweetness.

  “That’s all very well, but speaking it won’t be much use if you’re studying a foreign contract.”

  “It was only my first day, Father. She has to start somewhere.”

  Larrad grunted and returned his attention to his food.

  Dani had finished off his first slice of bread and was reaching for another when his father said, “I’ve arranged for you to pay a visit to Finnia’s daughter, Eslian, next week, for afternoon tea.” Larrad spooned another serving of potatoes onto his plate. “And you’ve an appointment with my tailor in town this morning. I’ve spoken to Mistress Orlina, and she’s agreed to move your lessons to the afternoon, just for today.”

  Dani’s hand froze halfway to the bread. A visit to the city? Today? But that meant he’d have to use some of his precious supply of anzaria… and how would he ever manage to take the stuff without Rio seeing?

  When Dani didn’t respond immediately, Larrad continued, “You’ve lost so much weight, I want some of your clothing taken in. I won’t have you paying court to a lady looking as if I can’t afford to feed you or attire you properly.”

  “C-can’t Master Derrin come here?”

  “Not with the midsummer ball only two weeks away, he can’t. I’ve had to pay extra to fit you in as it is. The carriage will be ready in an hour. Have Pendrin help you choose three suits of clothes to be altered. That should be enough for now.”