Ros grinned at the woman beside her before becoming serious again. "I believe that the Invader has lost her. Aside from that once, none of his guards have appeared. I doubt he'd let it go this long if he knew where she was. You know he doesn't allow any heir to live."
"You're convinced she's of the Dulce kingdom?"
"I am," the blonde nodded. "The captain was nearly of a mind to take her that night. Only his belief and loathing that she shared my bed drove him away. I have heard rumor that the Dulce line is dark of hair and eye. Kat fits it well." Returning her gaze to the fire, Ros continued, "The clothes she had when we found her, despite being travel worn, were much too fine. Even Ilia's clothing was nicer than should be worn by an average woman. And the dagger used to kill one of the men outside the cook wagon was far too ornamental for either of the men to carry."
Another pause. "What do you plan to do now?" Emerita asked, stitching forgotten on her lap.
Ros sighed and rubbed at her neck. "I'm not certain. I told Kat that she and Ilia could stay as long as they wanted, that I'd not turn them out. It's not like we've gotten incompetence in return - Ilia is doing a fine job with her juggling and clowning. And Kat is a wonder with the accounts, has a fine hand at writing, and knows more of healing than the lot of us put together."
"Then they'll remain with us until they wish to leave," the old woman said with a tone of finality.
The blonde glanced sidelong at her. "And that's that, eh?"
"Aye. That's that." Emerita smiled, reaching forward to cup one of the younger woman's cheeks. "This circus belongs to you - you're da left it when he died. Through the years, you've shown all of us nothing but the best of your abilities and judgment. We trust you, Ros, to take care of your family."
Blushing, the blonde whispered, "Thank you, Em. It's good to know."
The tableau held just a moment before Emerita leaned back. Her mending went into a basket and she creaked to her feet. "Now then, it's time for all decrepit old women and young scamps to be abed."
"Aye, Em," Ros said with a chuckle, rising as well. She bent and planted a kiss on her friend's cheek. "I'll get to bed as soon as I bank the fire."
"Don't be out here 'til the night becomes morning," Emerita scolded as she moved towards the hall leading to the sleeping chambers.
"I won't. I promise." She bid the old woman good night, waiting until she'd gone before settling back on her stool to stare into the flames.
"Gods, this is taking forever!" Liam exclaimed.
Dominic shared a weary glance with the third man at the table, "Aye, my liege," he said, turning to the prince. "But caution is the watchword here. We aren't strong enough in numbers or weapons to achieve our goals."
With a gusty sigh, the teenager rolled his eyes. "There must be something we can do," he insisted. "These clandestine meetings are getting us nowhere!"
Tugging respectfully at his graying forelock, the third man spoke. "Begging Your Majesty's pardon, but these meetings do have a purpose." At the sour look he received, he chuckled. "Aye, hard for a young man - one bent on the doing rather than the talking - to easily understand, but it's true. These meetings serve to remind your people that you're alive and calling for them to fight for their king and country."
"Torlief has the right of it, Sire," Dominic cut in. Clasping his hands and leaning forward on the table, he peered closely at the young man across from him. "Things may be slow now, but the revolution will begin to snowball through spring and summer. We cannot make a move until all is in place or everything will be lost." The aide's voice softened. "I was advisor to your father, Liam. He trusted me. I ask that you place your trust in me, as well."
Long moments passed before Liam bowed his head. "Aye, Dominic. You have my trust, just as you had my father's. I know you'll only do what's best for the kingdom."
Smiling, Dominic reached out and squeezed the teenager's shoulder. "Thank you, Sire. You'll never know how much that means to me."
"There ye are, lads! Put some muscle into it!"
With a clash of metal the two lines met. Each soldier had his shield locked with his mates' as he attempted to break through his opponent's defenses. The arms master shouted encouragement and instruction while the group shifted back and forth in the slush and mud. A score of other soldiers were practicing various weapons around the battle with varying levels of skill.
Most were unaware of their audience watching from the low wall surrounding the training grounds. Those that noticed fought twice as hard, showing their liege their skills.
The Invader watched the mock battle, winter sun glinting off the royal seal about his neck. He was wrapped in his cloak, warding off the season's chill. Raising his head, he closed his eyes. The sun feels good. Below him the skirmish continued as he basked.
"Sire?" asked a tentative voice. "A message for you."
Inhaling deeply, the Invader turned to see a servant with a roll of parchment. He took it, his cloak falling open to reveal rich trousers and boiled leather vest, accepting the man's bow with a nod. As he cracked the seal, he asked, "The messenger?" The king scanned the document, sent from the Dulce province by the adjunct he'd left in charge.
"In the kitchens, Sire, having a bite and awaiting your response."
With a derisive snort, the Invader noted that word of rebellion was strong and growing daily. The group was organized into tiny cells of resisters - any attempt at routing out the leaders was spoiled by the small numbers and lack of pertinent information flowing between them. The Invader was positive who was behind this rebellion. Disgruntled lords, still loyal to the Dulce crown had discovered the princess. No one would follow a woman into battle so they'd passed her off as Liam to gain support. He speculated on who the true leader could be.
On the training ground, the battle ground to a halt as one line finally broke through the other. The arms master called a halt before any further damage was done, pulling three wounded soldiers out of training and sending them to the surgeons.
Rolling the parchment up, he said, "Have the messenger bed down in the barracks tonight and see to his mount. I'll have a response by the morning."
"Aye, Sire."
As the servant left on his errand, the Invader looked once more at the training ground, eyes unseeing. It was time for a return trip to Dulce. Perhaps a grand celebration on the first anniversary of its fall.
A soldier glanced up at his audience and paled at the smile he saw on his liege's face.
Chapter 7
Ros stepped out of the main house and into the yard where horses were hitched to the supply wagon. Phizo sat atop it with the reins, chatting with Sati and Katerin. The two women had made a small nest of blankets against the early winter chill, comfortably awaiting the blonde's arrival.
Climbing up the side, the circus owner settled beside Phizo. "Let's be on our way before Emerita wants something else."
Phizo chuckled, snapping the reins. "One of the long lists, eh?" he asked as the steeds started forward.
"Aye," Ros complained, rolling her eyes when the women laughed. "I swear it gets longer each trip! Does she think we'll suffer some freak of nature and get snowed in for a year?"
"Not at all," Katerin replied. "Given your appetite for her cooking, we've been hard put to keep up with you and Cristof at the dinner table."
The blonde shot a mock scowl at the jibe, earning a gentle touch on the back and a laugh from the dark woman.
Phizo guided the horses across the small bridge and towards nearby Kemple. Once every two weeks, the troupe took turns going into town for supplies and news of the area. This was Katerin's first trip and the circus owner watched as the small woman tried to contain her excitement.
Since stopping their travels for the winter, Ros found herself drawn more and more to Katerin. She would look for the brunette's morning smile, tease her incessantly to hear the rich laughter, go out of her way to be where Kat would be. Interesting enough, the smaller woman seemed to be equally enamored, searching Ros
out, touching a shoulder or back or knee. When Katerin was out of sight, whether it be for a walk or some domestic chore, Ros sorely missed her presence.
Despite her rambling thoughts, Ros smiled at something Phizo said, responding in kind. From the corner of her eye, she saw Katerin intently watching her. Ros glanced back, snaring the dark eyes with a grin and a wink, her smile widening at the blush that crawled across the woman's fair skin.
Breaking their gaze, Katerin fiddled with the edge of a blanket in her lap, pretending interest in Sati's chatter. The compound wasn't far from the edge of town and soon they reached the outskirts. Katerin found it odd that the wagon received barely a glance from people. She was so used to the joy of an approaching circus, the lack of response was rather disappointing. Looking about, the dark woman found that Kemple looked like all the other small towns she'd been in the last few months - yet another unexpected turn in her mind. For some reason she thought it would be...more. Beside her, Sati pointed out the buildings of interest.
"The cobbler lives just down this street; we'll see him after we've been to the weaver's for cloth. There's the inn," the dusky skinned woman said, pointing to a two-story dwelling with its own well. "The goodwife there makes the best pumpkin pudding in the area. Maybe we'll have time to stop by…?" Her voice trailed off as she looked to Ros.
"Aye. We'll have time," the circus owner answered with a sly grin. She pulled out a scrap of paper. "Em's list isn't quite as enormous as I suggested. Besides, she also wants a cask of brandy." Ros tore the paper in half. "Sati, you and Kat see the weaver and cobbler while Phizo and I attend to the smithy. We'll meet at the inn after; maybe stop by the baker's for a special treat for tonight's supper."
"That sounds wonderful, Ros," Sati said, smiling. She waved Katerin towards the rungs leading to the ground, folding up the blankets before following.
The blonde shifted to give the women room to climb down, but it was impossible for Katerin to not brush against Ros in the process. Blushing at the strong hand guiding her, the princess clambered down the steps, not looking at the cause of her distress until she had both feet on the ground. Another wink caused her to redden further and she glanced up the small lane to cover it, rubbing her arm where the circus owner had touched her.
Ros' smile broadened. There it is again. What's on her mind when she colors so? Her thoughts were interrupted by Sati squeezing past to climb down. By the time, the blonde could again focus on Katerin, the redness had dissipated and cool, dark eyes peered up at her.
"We'll see you at the inn," Sati said with a wave. She turned, taking Katerin's arm in her own and walking away from the wagon.
Phizo urged the horses forward, the woman beside him watching the pair until they were around a corner. A slight grin sat on his face at Ros' interest. It had been the talk of the compound for weeks, the developing closeness between the blonde and Katerin.
The women out of sight, Ros turned back. She glanced at the driver and frowned. "What are you smiling at?" she asked, already knowing the cause.
"Nothing," the old man responded with a chuckle, the reins suddenly quite interesting.
Suspicions confirmed, Ros grimaced at the horses.
"How long do you think they'll be?" Katerin asked as they settled down at the table. Nearby, a fire crackled on the hearth, dispelling much of the winter chill from her bones.
Sati set their purchases against one wall. "Soon I should think." She sighed and sank into the chair, pulling a steaming mug towards her. "I believe Em wanted another kitchen knife. And Ros was saying something about having more tent spikes and nails for next season."
Nodding absently, the brunette's fingertips ran along the shoulder bag in her lap. Inside it were embroidery threads - crimson, emerald and a little bit of gold - to finish her sewing project. She'd decided to give Ros an over tunic for Mid Winter's Fest and had been diligently working on it for three weeks. It would have been a disaster if she hadn't been under Emerita's tutelage.
The flickering of firelight caught her eye and Katerin stared into the flames.
Last year at this time, she had spent her days with her maidens, talking about the various young bachelors at court. Katerin remembered the festival her father had held - all shining and aglitter with torches, jewels and gold. There had been a wonderful ball and she had danced with nearly every available man from the ages of sixteen to sixty. It had been breathless and intoxicating. All was well in the kingdom and the Invader had yet to make his intentions known.
A vision filled her eyes, the same audience hall filled with the dead and dying. She could still smell the stink of blood and smoke and excrement, the sickly sweet odor of gangrene, all mixed in with the warm green scent of spring. There was a constant low murmur from the wounded and those caring for them, punctuated by the occasional scream as a surgeon removed a limb or cauterized an injury.
Shaking her head and shivering, Katerin looked away from the flames, blindly grabbing for her own mug and drinking deeply of the apple cinnamon tea.
"Are you alright?"
Katerin found warm, brown eyes watching her. Flushing, she shrugged. "Aye. I'm fine, Sati. Just a bad memory." Unable to keep the gaze, she glanced away, scanning the inn.
The interior was dark, yet inviting. It wasn't a very large establishment - not much larger than the main room of the compound but there the resemblance ended. Several smaller tables were scattered about, three occupied by a handful of patrons. A counter ran along one wall near the door and behind it sat a middle-aged man tapping a keg.
Sati leaned forward with a conspiratorial grin. "Is the thread for Ros?"
As expected, Katerin immediately cheered at the mention of her favorite person. "Aye," she answered with her own smile, patting the bag in her lap. "Em says I'm doing well with a needle. I'm going to embroider roses along the hem and sleeves."
"She'll love it," the dark skinned woman insisted. "More for the fact you made it than anything else." She chuckled as Katerin blushed and squirmed. A shadow fell across the table, interrupting them. Looking up, Sati appeared surprised. "Lina! You're working here again?"
"Aye, I am. And glad to be back!"
Curiously, Katerin studied the new arrival. Lina was tall, almost as tall as Ros, her frame nearly too thin for her height. Her hair was a thick mahogany wave that fell down her back and she had a face that would have been called 'adorable' at court. She wore a simple peasant dress with a soiled apron upon which she was currently wiping her hands.
"Who's this?" Lina asked, smiling at the brunette.
Sati hastened to the introductions. "Kat, this is Lina. She works here as a barmaid when she's not off in the countryside tending to sick relatives."
"Pleasure to meet you," the princess greeted politely.
"We picked up Kat several months ago." Sati's eyes flickered between the two before she said, "She's Ros' personal assistant."
Katerin braced herself for the usual response. When the topic of her placement in the troupe came up, it usually fell into three realms - most found it gloriously nasty, would snicker and make further innuendo; others would pronounce their judgment over the entire repugnant matter and storm away. Last were those few who were blissfully ignorant of sapphists and their ilk, not reacting in any way.
Green eyes narrowed a bit, pinning Katerin, though the smile widened. "Really? Ros' personal assistant? How…interesting." Dismissing the subject, Lina turned back to Sati. "Is Ros here today? I do miss her so."
"Aye, she and Phizo are at the smithy and should meet us here soon," Sati said, appearing a bit reluctant.
"Phizo! How is he? It's been so long since I've heard of any of the troupe," Lina said.
Their chatter turned to gossip as the pair filled each other in on their doings for the past year. Katerin listened avidly, trying to fathom this woman. After several minutes of conversation, she heard voices at the door, turning to see Ros and Phizo entering. Unaccountably, her heart flipped in her chest and she could feel the heat craw
l across her face. What is it with me today? she demanded of herself.
She wasn't alone in noticing the new arrivals. Lina, upon seeing Ros approach the bar, excused herself and fairly flew across the room to the blonde's side. "Ros! It's so good to see you!"
Katerin watched the circus owner seeming startled but pleased at Lina's appearance. The two chatted a few moments at the bar before Phizo left them and came to the table. She wasn't sure, but she thought he was a bit disgruntled as he sat, leaning elbows against the rough wood.
To make conversation, Sati asked, "Were you able to get everything that Em wanted?"
"Aye," the old man grunted, sipping from a mug of ale he'd brought from the bar. "Though we'll have to return for the tent spikes; Amos hadn't any made up. What about you two?"
"Definitely," the woman smiled. "The cobbler has very nice leathers in a variety of colors. I think we should look into having red boots made for Wills' costume next season. He's worn out his blue ones."
"That would be good."
The discussion continued across from Katerin though she only paid it half a mind, her attention riveted on the two women at the bar. Her puzzlement grew as Ros settled down on a stool rather than join them. Watching Lina constantly touching the circus owner in some way or another caused a spark of irritation in the princess. Why, she's hanging all over her! How can Ros stand all that simpering? It appeared, however, that the constant attention from the barmaid was quite acceptable to the blonde, causing Katerin's annoyance to grow.
Turning away from the display with a snort, Katerin found two pairs of eyes carefully watching. She fought to quell the familiar blush with no success, busying herself with brushing an imaginary speck of dust from her sleeve. Phizo and Sati continued their conversation and she did her best to focus on it, teeth grinding as she tried to place where the anger was coming from.
"So you've gotten a 'personal assistant,' eh?" Lina asked, idly running her fingers along the blonde's forearm.
Ros chuckled. "Aye. Kat's good with numbers and letters. She helps a great deal with the accounts." Glancing at the woman in question, she wondered at the tense set of Katerin's shoulders but dismissed it. "She knows some of the healing arts, as well. We need someone like that in the troupe."
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