“Thank you.” I felt unexpectedly weepy at the gift—and afraid of its import. “Any news?”
She shook her head. “Lunkhead wants to see what happens tonight, as he’s not at all convinced the volcano king means to keep you here. However, he also plans to set sail in the morning, barring anything to interfere with that, so . . .”
So, be ready for anything. All right, then.
Not long after Inoa and her ladies finished primping me, Nakoa arrived. No surprise there. He stepped into the room, carrying a fresh garland of flowers, and bowed to me with his hands folded in front of his heart. Still bare chested and barefoot, he’d traded his scaled armor for festive-looking metal armbands made of copper that matched his torque and my gown, also figured to look like twining dragons. Naturally. He wore a pleated skirt of the same hue. It should have seemed odd for a man to wear such a garment, but it somehow made him look that much more masculine. Enough to spike that desire he seemed to stir in me, though I thought I managed to disguise it behind bland disinterest.
He approached me where I sat on the edge of the bed. I wondered where he planned to sleep that night. It would be difficult for Jepp to extract me, if he wanted to sleep in his own bed. Or sit and watch me again. No doubt she had a plan and would let me know what to do.
Nakoa said my name and replaced the flower garland around my neck as he’d done that morning, then indicated that he’d pick me up. I frowned and shook my head. I’d had enough of that. I indicated a chair. “Ayh, Nakoa. Why can’t I sit in a chair and be carried that way?” I tried to demonstrate with gestures.
He frowned back. “Ayh, Dafne.” Despite his obvious negation, I got the distinct impression that I’d amused him and he echoed me on purpose. He said something longer, gesturing back and forth between us as he’d done before.
“My take is no one carries you but him,” Jepp offered, not at all helpfully.
“So I gather also.” I folded my arms and scowled at Nakoa, who returned the look implacably, with the air of a man who’d wait forever and still get his way.
“Just get through tonight,” Jepp soothed me. Later I would take time to reflect on the irony of our role reversal.
“Fine.” I gave Nakoa the go-ahead and he rewarded me with a small smile, taking my hand, clearly intending to kiss my wrist. I made a fist so he couldn’t. “Ayh,” I told him.
His smile deepened, as if I’d amused him further. Keeping his hold on my wrist, he picked up one of my slim daggers from the bedside table and offered it to me with another word I recognized from the afternoon naming game with Inoa and her ladies. “Open.”
Uncertain, I opened my hand and he nodded in satisfaction that I’d understood. He laid the dagger on my palm instead, holding my gaze for a long beat, waiting for something from me. An acknowledgment, maybe, that I was not without the ability to refuse him at least that. I took a deep breath and let it out, then closed my fingers around the now-familiar heft of the hilt, inclining my head to him. Nakoa touched the scab on his throat where I’d cut him, his lips twitching in a wry grimace. I gave him my best insouciant shrug in return.
To my surprise, he laughed. A deep, musical sound, as pitched as his language. Without further ado, he carefully slid his arm under my knees and waited for me to loop mine around his neck.
“It’s fascinating to watch you two communicate,” Jepp said.
“I’m glad to entertain you.”
“I’m just saying you’re getting really good at it. Maybe you can talk him into letting you go after all.”
Optimism from Jepp worried me. It made me think she wasn’t sure how to get me out of here, even if it wasn’t a fortress. “I’ll try.”
Nakoa carried me through the spacious hallways and I took advantage of the opportunity to look around, being far more clear-headed than the night before. As in Annfwn, much of the palace stood open to the tropical environment, with outdoor spaces furnished in the same way as the interior. The lovely wood floors and ceilings gave way to polished stone in the same colors outside, but otherwise the rooms were alike, with sitting and eating spaces. They spoke of people who spent time enjoying themselves and their island kingdom. Artwork—almost always animals, of all varieties—stood in niches or sometimes in the center of sitting areas.
Our small procession turned in the direction opposite of where we’d come in, toward the sea, and we emerged onto that great expanse I’d glimpsed from the hillside. Now it thronged with people seated at long tables scattered around the periphery, while others danced in a clear center area.
At the sight of Nakoa, the music and dancing stopped, the seated people standing up, and everyone turned to face us, sending up a soaring song of welcome and joy, by the sound of it. Nakoa held me up and out, as if displaying a prize, gazing down at me with a glow of pride and the least forbidding expression I’d seen on him yet.
“I don’t like this,” Jepp muttered.
Neither did I.
Nakoa settled me in a high chair, padded with pastel cushions, and seated himself next to me. Inoa sat on my other side, radiantly happy and wearing dragon armbands that matched Nakoa’s. Almost certainly his sister, then. Jepp joined Zynda, Kral, and the other Dasnarians at a table one level below us and to the side, sitting where she could keep an eye on me.
It was an elaborate celebration, indeed, and one focused on me. I ate off of a series of small plates that people brought to me, offerings of exotic, artfully created delicacies that exploded with flavor. I worried that they strained their resources to put on this feast but could hardly cause insult by refusing.
One after another, Nakoa’s people performed dances and acrobatics for us. I’d seen the Dasnarian acrobats perform at Ordnung, but Nahanauns outdid them in flexibility, contorting their bodies into astonishing shapes and folding into each other to create living sculptures. A group of two dozen or so nearly naked men and women slowly assembled into one that, when complete, looked like the dragon itself, with extended bodies moving like great wings.
In the awe of the accomplishment, the extraordinary beauty and athleticism of it, I laughed and clapped my hands, forgetting myself. Nakoa looked over at me, pleased, and patted my knee, then called out something to the performers, who disassembled and bowed deeply to me, ecstatic grins on their faces. Inoa waved a hand and baskets were brought to the acrobats, a treasured reward, it seemed by their exclamations and bows of gratitude.
After that I made certain to show my enjoyment. These people had worked so hard to please me and should not suffer because of my fears or need to show Nakoa my displeasure.
Nakoa, however, paid close attention and displayed an uncanny knack for knowing which performances I loved best, rewarding those most generously.
Finally, the dances and acrobatics finished, Nakoa called Kral up to speak with him. They exchanged a version of pleasantries, Kral mostly in Dasnarian and using a few of the Nahanaun words, most of which I already knew. Nakoa clearly thanked him for the supplies and Kral told him more would be coming, which I wasn’t sure Nakoa completely understood. I considered attempting to make it clear the supplies came from us, but it felt like the wrong moment, given my tenuous status. If I won my freedom, I’d attempt to convey that to Nakoa. If not . . . Well, I’d have plenty of time for that.
Jepp came up to join the conversation, earning a glare from Kral that she cheerfully ignored. “General Kral of Dasnaria and Imperial Prince of the Royal House of Konyngrr,” she saluted him, then bowed to Nakoa. “King Nakoa KauPo. I ask you to agree that Lady Dafne Mailloux will leave with us when we set sail in the morning.” She spoke in Dasnarian and used gestures to communicate her meaning, much as I had.
Nakoa stilled, sending a prickle across my skin and making me feel as if I sat next to a quiescent volcano. My volcano king, indeed. He asked Kral a sharp question, and the general, with a baleful glance at Jepp that promised retribution for cornering him like that, attempted an explanation. Halfway through it, I wanted to bury my face in my hands.
How could these Dasnarians claim a protectorship of these islands and understand the language so badly? I’d been on the island less than two days and could parse enough to get that Kral had no sense that tonality altered meaning.
Stubborn arrogance on their part that spelled ill fortune for my fate.
I carefully didn’t look at Nakoa so as not to draw attention to myself—though as the subject of the conversation, I didn’t have much hope of that—but I sensed him growing angrier, like the heat of lava radiating from that lake of fire. Like the dragon awaking. Jepp kept her gaze trained on me, waiting for clues, and I gave her the smallest shake of my head.
This was not going well.
Kral was talking about gold and something else. Nakoa answered him with some sort of taunt that angered Kral enough to gesture to me and say—what? Something about bringing me to him. But I caught a word Nakoa had used several times with me, one Kral also knew and I connected to his original charges to Ursula. Mo’o. The dragon?
Finally, Nakoa cut Kral off with a sharp chop of his hand and rose. Everyone had gone silent and Inoa reached over to touch my arm, her eyes wide in anxious alarm. Nakoa called out for a servant to attend him—a phrase I’d heard a number of times already, though I hadn’t parsed the exact words yet—and a young man ran up with a curved, dauntingly large sword. Confronting Kral, Nakoa issued an obvious challenge. Inoa’s nails dug into my arm and she said something pleading.
Kral looked to me for the first time. “I cannot duel for you, scribe. Do you understand that? I have responsibilities to my men, to get them home again.”
Jepp cursed, rounding on him. “Then pretend to stand down and we’ll smuggle her out.”
For once, Kral didn’t respond to her with anger. Instead he seemed regretful. “The king has people watching the Hákyrling. Even if we managed to get her past them, he’d make sure of her presence here before he let us sail. I should have listened when you told me he means to keep her. I didn’t think it would play out this way. I, ah, apologize for my role in this.” Definitely guilt there. What had he handed Nakoa when we arrived?
“Save your half-assed apology!” Jepp spat.
He spread his hands, oddly not rising to Jepp’s challenge. “I’ve never seen him behave like this and I have no power to gainsay him. Emperor Hestar would have my head if I created bad blood with the Nahanauns, especially over a foreign scribe, no matter how connected to royalty.” He bowed to Nakoa and stepped back, leaving Jepp alone in confronting the king.
She didn’t hesitate, but pulled her daggers and faced Nakoa. “Then I accept the challenge, if this coward will not take it.”
Nakoa assessed her and raised his sword. Zynda stood and edged closer, ready to back Jepp.
“No!” I shouted at them both. “Ayh! Nakoa.”
He backed up a step to be able to see me without turning his back on Jepp. A wise man, not to underestimate her.
“Shut up, Dafne,” Jepp hissed.
“I won’t. Kral is right.” I held out a hand to Nakoa, the small dagger on my open palm. “Nakoa. I will stay.” Unable to think of another word to fit, I said, “Dafne open.”
Jepp glared at me in helpless fury but relaxed her stance. Nakoa lowered the sword and came to me, grim satisfaction on his face. Plucking the dagger from my palm, he took my hand and placed a firm, lingering kiss to my inner wrist.
Beyond him, Jepp seethed. She would have been happier fighting, even if it meant her death. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” she said in Common Tongue.
“Maybe not, but I won’t watch you or anyone else die on my behalf. I’ve had enough of wars. I can’t be the cause of one.” And better this way than to lose our mission entirely. Time for me to face that reality.
When Harlan explained hlyti, he failed to mention that—goddess or no—she could be cruel.
The party disbanded and Nakoa carried me back to his rooms, looking thunderous. Jepp and Zynda gamely followed behind. He started to set me on the bed. “Ayh,” I said and pointed to a chair. “There.”
Shooting me a bemused glance, he set me in the chair, then gave me an exaggerated bow. Maybe I shouldn’t give him orders, but I needed to draw lines. Particularly if I was going to be trapped here with him. Possibly for the rest of my life.
I couldn’t think about that.
“Leave us, please,” I said, hoping I sounded more polite, though the phrase was one I’d heard used with the ladies who fetched and carried for Inoa and might not be at all appropriate for a king. “I want to talk to Jepp and Zynda.”
He looked at them and back at me. For a moment, it seemed he wouldn’t agree, but he went to stand on the balcony outside, back to the rail, watching us with folded arms. As good as I’d get, apparently.
“I’m not leaving you here,” Jepp threw out, voice tight. “If we can’t get you out, I’m staying with you.”
“I will, too.” Zynda sat and took my hand. I squeezed it, grateful for the contact.
“You can’t stay,” I told them. “Either of you. You have to leave me here—there’s no other option.”
Jepp exploded. “Don’t you tell me there are no other options. I’m charged with protecting you, and by Danu, I’ll do it.”
I didn’t ask her to modulate her tone or still her pacing. Nakoa, like a carved statue silhouetted against the night, a black stone sentinel of a man, would know exactly what we discussed.
“Listen to me, both of you.” I waited for Jepp’s attention, snarling as it might be. “You have to go. Zynda will make contact with Andi regardless, to get the Dasnarians through the barrier. She can pass a message back to Ursula. The additional ships might not have left yet. They can bring more effective rescue and, in the meanwhile, I’ll learn the language and customs and will be ready to start diplomatic relations between King Nakoa KauPo and the Thirteen.”
Nakoa, hearing his name, dipped his chin slightly, eyes catching the torchlight and glittering with amber sparks.
“You’re suggesting I go to Dasnaria without you?” Jepp sounded incredulous. “I can’t fulfill the mission. I don’t know how to unearth secrets from books! I can scarcely read Common Tongue, let alone Dasnarian.”
“You’re Ursula’s best scout. You know how to find out anything you want to know. Just establishing if Kir is really there would be significant in itself.”
She subsided, fuming, so I turned to Zynda. “Promise me that you’ll make sure Ursula doesn’t come after me herself.”
Zynda blinked at that, then pulled her hair over her shoulder, braiding it as she thought. “I don’t know how I’m going to do that. I don’t have your gift with her.”
“Recruit Harlan. Speak to him privately and convince him. Then make sure that, whatever you tell her, it doesn’t sound like I’m in any danger. Which I’m really not, because I don’t think the king will harm me or allow me to be harmed. Ursula can’t leave the High Throne unattended, whatever happens. That’s more important than what happens to me.”
Zynda nodded slowly. “I’ll do my best.”
“He might not harm you, Dafne.” Jepp sat, knees spread, hands folded between them, her large dark eyes somber. “But you will not emerge with your virginity from this. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and touches you. Even if we manage to eventually extract you, that will be the price you’ll pay.”
She looked so serious, so worried for me. We’d come a ways from her blithe teasing and plots to divest me of that virginity. “I don’t think he’d force me.” My gaze went to Nakoa, watching us in silence.
“Perhaps not.” Jepp tapped her fingers together. “But if he thinks you are his wife or betrothed, he’ll expect it. Putting you in his bed gives a clear message that way.”
“Now you see that?” I had to tease her a little about it, but she didn’t smile.
“I learned my lesson, yes. I wouldn’t wish the same on you.”
“Are you worried about going to Dasnaria—what your status will be there?”
“I
can handle myself.” She waved that off. “And I can handle Kral. The question is, can you handle the dragon king?”
“Why do you call him that?” I asked, a bit taken aback to hear my secret thoughts spoken aloud.
Jepp gave me a funny look. “The tattoos look like scales to me—don’t they to you?”
“And he wears a torque in that shape,” Zynda agreed. “Also there is . . . some connection there.”
“Do you really believe some magic he worked released the dragon?”
She tilted her head, solemn. “Not just him, but you also. Dafne, watch yourself with him. We don’t know their culture, but if sex seals the marriage, diplomacy might not get you out of it.”
“If you don’t want Her Majesty going to war over you—as she no doubt would,” Jepp added, “then you’ll have to hold him off. However you manage it. That’s the best course of action. If you can,” she added in a dubious tone that made me bristle.
“Of course I can. I’ve held off all my life. If I’m practiced at anything, it’s that.”
“Not with someone who affects you like he does.” Zynda nodded at my confusion and Jepp joined her. “Your body language shows it, too.”
“I’ll have to find the strength.” I said it in a dry tone for her absurd observation—and yet, part of me knew it to be true. Nakao did affect me as no other man had. I would be hard-pressed not to give in to the attraction. But I would. I must.
That was the way of adventures, it seemed. You stepped up, not because you were brave, but because you had no other choice. Courage wasn’t required. Only fortitude.
Hopefully I’d find it in myself to withstand the patient assault of King Nakoa.
13
Jepp and Zynda stayed for a bit after Inoa returned with a couple of her ladies. She shooed out her brother with her usual scolding words, which he accepted from her with an affectionate scowl. I’d do well to cement the friendship she seemed to offer, and perhaps recruit her to my cause.
The Pages of the Mind Page 15
