“What you did back there,” Roland said, “for me, for Tamal, I thank you. I have never seen a woman show so much bravery, or dispense justice with such fairness. The grand master of my order, Banik Dzobian, and King Frederick would have ordered Tamal killed. Having a gypsy as a squire should prove to be interesting. Clever of you to make us both swear our allegiance to you, for you know I am a man of my word.”
“Now that you have, it means you must do whatever I want, Sir Roland,” Taliesin said, in a playful voice.
“Stop undressing me with your eyes, Raven Mistress. People are watching. When we are inside the wagon,” Roland said, “you may order me to do anything you want. What does Shan Octavio say all the time? It will be my pleasure.”
A group of young women was seated on a blanket, pillows scattered around them, outside the door of a blue wagon painted with yellow and orange constellations. An old woman wearing a purple scarf around her head was dealing out Tareen Cards for several girls. Female laughter could be heard from inside the wagon, and Taliesin heard Wren’s silly giggle. The door opened, and a dark head popped out. Jaelle glanced in their direction and came outside in a long gold skirt cut high on both sides and a blue fluffy blouse; she barely noticed the women seated on the blanket as she swept toward Taliesin and Roland. Spinning, Jaelle revealed tan legs and knee-high sandals with black straps crisscrossed over her muscular calves. A thick mane of black hair fell down her back and brushed across her hips as she came to Roland. Her lips were full and painted a dark maroon. Her eyes were the color of honey, and as she spun around, she gazed lustfully at Roland and grabbed his arms.
“Let me read your fortune, big man,” the girl said. “Come, come. I promise Jaelle is always accurate. Maybe the pretty lady wants her future read as well? For a small price, Jaelle will tell you everything.” She slid her arms along his body and wrapped them behind his neck.
“I have other plans tonight,” Roland said, “but I appreciate the offer.”
“Jaelle, leave them alone,” the old woman said as she cast a stern eye in the girl’s direction. “Go inside and tend to your guest. You are being rude, child.” She laid a card for one the women sitting in front of her who responded with a loud gasp, clutched the girl beside her, and trembled with fear
“I’ve not met a knight before,” Jaelle said. She kept Roland’s arm and pulled him toward the wagon. “My father says knights are chivalrous, but I would know what type of man my brother will serve. I would come on this quest as well. Let me prove how helpful I can be, great knight. Bring your Raven Mistress as well. I do not mind.”
“It’s Taliesin’s decision,” Roland said. “You ever have a threesome before, Taliesin?”
“No, and don’t tell me you have, since I already heard how many girls you, Octavio, and Zarnoc have slept with, and I’m rather disgusted.”
Jaelle tossed her long, black hair, reached behind Roland, and held up a green apple, as if he’d been hiding it behind his back all along. Her teeth flashed a brilliant white in the moonlight as she bit the apple, let the juice drip from her chin, and placed the fruit between her ample breasts. “Take a bite,” she said, in a seductive voice. “It is juicy. You will like it, Sir Knight. Bite whatever you desire.”
“That’s quite an offer,” Roland said, laughing.
The gypsy girl glanced at Taliesin, as did Roland, but he wasn’t asking permission; his expression was one of a man in trouble. Jaelle quickly removed the apple, stuck it between her teeth and bit hard, while she slid her hands across Roland’s chest and wiggled her backside. Her nimble fingers unfastened his heavy coat and pushed it open, and then she started untying the laces to his shirt. Taliesin wasn’t about to share her lover, and the moment the leather was pushed aside, exposing his hairy, muscular chest, she pushed the gypsy aside and stood between her and Roland. The apple dropped out of Jaelle’s mouth and fell to the ground as she came to Taliesin and rubbed her large breasts against the angry red head’s arm.
“Your man is big and strong,” Jaelle said. “Between us, we could ride him into oblivion.”
Taliesin wondered if the man called Grudge might have agreed to take the girl to their wagon back at Raven’s Nest. Jaelle offered a coquettish blink of her long, black eyelashes as she again tried to grab Roland, but he caught her arm.
“I think you should return to your wagon, young lady. The Raven Mistress has need of my attention tonight, and she does not play well with others.”
“Not before I read your palm,” Jaelle said. She removed his hand from her arm, turned it over, and spread her fingers across his palm. “You have a long life for a knight, relatively good health, but I see your love line interwoven with several others. You are fickle, my lord. You have more than one love.”
This time Roland chuckled. “I assure you that is not the case,” he said. “I do not believe in divination or a woman’s intuition to predict my future.” He drew his hand away. “You flirt with danger, little girl.”
A smile appeared on Taliesin’s face at his response. She took Roland by his arm, stood close to him, and looked directly into the gypsy’s eyes. “The big man said ‘no,’ and I don’t share, so go inside, Jaelle, and leave us alone.”
Jaelle grabbed Roland’s other arm. “Whatever she can do, I can do much better. We gypsy girls know how to please a man,” she said. “I will be good to you, Sir Roland. Very good. Let the Raven Mistress bed my father. I know he wants her.”
“You really don’t listen,” Taliesin said, her temper boiling. “Let go of him. I won’t tell you again, silly girl.”
“Let the knight make up his own mind,” Jaelle said.
Roland brushed Jaelle aside and pulled Taliesin into his arms. He nuzzled her ear. “I can’t help it if gypsy girls find me irresistible,” he growled. “She is right about her father. You responded with passion. That was quite a kiss.”
“Shut up, oaf!” Taliesin pulled on his arm and dragged him away from the girl who released him, spun around laughing, and returned to her wagon. “All these gypsies think about is fornicating. No Raven girl would ever throw herself at a man like that. I certainly never have, and don’t make any cute remarks because I’m going to make you pay for making me jealous. You’ll start at my neck and kiss all the way down my body.”
* * *
An hour later Taliesin lay in Roland’s arms. He was asleep, his head on a pillow, and his large body pressed against her back, generating so much heat that sweat beaded along her forehead and upper lip. From their berth on a large, soft mattress at the back of the wagon, she watched the shadows created by a bright lantern move across the walls, dancing; like figures around a campfire. Bright curtains at the windows on either side of the cottage-shaped wagon fluttered as a cool breeze swept across their bodies.
The interior was modest, with simple charm. Rugs covered the floor, three chairs were shoved beneath a wooden table painted with designs, and a row of cooking utensils and crockery hung from the ceiling. Their gear was stacked beside the table. Overhead, multicolored skirts, ruffled blouses, and brightly colored scarves hung on a line, and three tambourines with red and blue streamers were nailed to the rounded wall above the table.
“This could be our new home,” Taliesin said, softly. Her feet brushed against his and she snuggled closer. A shiver ran through her body. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You think too loudly,” he said, after a moment’s pause. “Shall I make love to you again, or do you want to talk, Raven Mistress?”
Taliesin turned in his arms, tossed a leg over his hip, and slid her hand along his hairy chest. “Roland is complicated,” she said. “I understood Grudge. I made you swear an oath to me tonight, but I can’t help but wonder if you really belong to me or to the king.”
“I’d never make love to the king,” he chuckled. “And if I told you every dark, little secret or every heroic deed, my story would be told and you’d lose interest. You don’t like simple. I could see you marrying the Shan. He and h
is men treated you like a queen tonight, though I tried my best to do the same.”
“I only want you,” Taliesin said.
Turning her head, she saw a dark shadow crouched behind her and felt the fingers glide upwards to grip her throat. Her hands grabbed a pair of warm fingers crushing her windpipe, and she flung her body to the side, bringing along a smaller form to crash onto the floor. She heard shouting as they rolled across the floor, her assailant still strangling her, knocked into the table, and upset a bowl of green apples.
“You shamed my brother,” an angry female voice shouted. “Now you shall pay for it!”
As the fingers dug into her throat, Taliesin’s head was banged against the floor. Stars burst inside her skull and obliterated the view of the figure straddling her. She balled her hand into a fist, and using all her strength, struck upwards and connected with a pointed chin. A cry of pain came as Jaelle fell to the floor. Taliesin was on her in an instant, grabbed a fist full of hair, and slapped the girl across the cheek.
“Don’t hurt her,” Wren said. “This is Jaelle, the Shan’s daughter!” She pulled Taliesin away and knelt beside Jaelle. Wren had cut her hair short and dyed it black. Her violet eyes were outlined in black cosmetics, and she was dressed as a gypsy.
“Why did you bring her here, Wren? Didn’t you know what she intended to do?” Taliesin asked. She stood naked and tall, glaring at the other two girls. Wren shook her head. “Get her out of here, then, and we’ll forget this business.”
A flash of silver and Taliesin saw the knife in Jaelle’s hand. The girl jumped to her feet, and ran toward Taliesin with the dagger held high, only to be flung away by Roland’s arm as he knocked her aside. With a loud smack, Jaelle slammed into a wall and dropped the knife. Wren, with fear oozing from her every pore, kicked the dagger across the room and stepped away from Jaelle.
“Jaelle, stop it!” Wren cried. “What will your father say?”
“My concern is only for my brother, Tamal,” the gypsy girl said. “He has been shamed, and I would win back his honor by killing the Raven Mistress.”
Roland grabbed his pants, stepped into them, and buttoned them quickly. “Ravens do not take murder lightly; you know this, Wren,” he said. “Even if you were unaware this girl had murder on her mind, Jaelle’s attack on Taliesin is just as much your fault as it is hers. Where is Rook anyway? Why isn’t he watching over you?”
“In a wagon, sleeping,” Wren said, wiping away a tear. “But I swear I didn’t know what Jaelle was planning to do. She dyed my hair and then wanted me to show you my new costume. I had no idea she was going to try and kill you, Raven Mistress.”
Taliesin picked up the discarded dagger, grabbed her black cloak, and slipped it around her shoulders. Somewhere outside a dog barked, but Taliesin had eyes only for Jaelle. Roland sat in a chair, breathing heavily and still shaken. Wren helped Jaelle to the bed and sat next to her.
“You’re a fool, Wren,” Taliesin said. “And so are you, Jaelle. I was wrong to think the Ghajar were like the Raven Clan. All we have in common is a fondness for gold. I should have let Tamal die at the hands of his own father. Perhaps I should take you to the Shan and tell him what you have done. I do not think he would be lenient; you have tried to kill his guest.”
Wren hung her hands. “The Shan will kill her. You can’t do that, Taliesin. Please don’t tell him—Jaelle is sorry for what she’s done.”
“I am not,” Jaelle said, spitting out the words. “My brother has been shamed. I must avenge him. It is the only way to clear his name.”
“We Ravens do not forget. You take a life, your life is forfeit,” Taliesin said. “Be thankful you did not kill me, or you would be dead as well. Roland would have seen to that.”
“The Ghajar do not forget either,” Jaelle said. Her nose was bleeding; she wiped the blood off her face with her skirt. “Tamal is not some servant you can order about. He will be the next Shan, yet he now serves this knight as a lowly squire. It is shameful.”
“Does Tamal know you came here?” Roland asked with a growl.
Jaelle’s honey-colored eyes filled with bright tears. “No,” she said, bitterly. “This was my idea. I wanted only to redeem Tamal’s honor, which you have taken from him.” She pushed Wren aside and rose from the bed. “So now what? Will you tell my father?”
“And see him beat you?” Taliesin arched an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’ll tell your father, Jaelle. I am the Raven Mistress with only four clan members, and I must see our ranks swell. Also, I think you would learn more the error of your ways if I made you a member. Therefore, your penance for trying to take my life will be to protect it with your own.”
“You want her to take the Service Oath?” Wren said, shocked at the generous offer.
“Why would you want me to join your clan after I tried to kill you?” Jaelle asked.
“Because I value the spirit of strong women,” Taliesin said. “You are nothing more than a servant here, Jaelle. Your father allowed me to decide your brother’s fate. I’m not a knight, so I can’t have a squire, but as the Raven Mistress, I am entitled to having servants.” She glanced at Roland and enjoyed seeing the confusion on his rugged face. “If she takes the Service Oath, she will be mine to command. If she fails to serve me faithfully, I have the right to take her life. Do you think I can make a Raven out of some would-be-murderess?”
“Your decision,” Roland said. “But I wouldn’t trust her.”
Jaelle stared at her with the same hope Taliesin had seen in Tamal’s eyes.
“I am not your enemy, Jaelle, but I could be your friend,” Taliesin said. She knew she was taking a big risk, but it felt like the right decision. “Will you take the Service Oath? Will you serve me faithfully? Can I trust you, or should I turn you over to your father?”
Jaelle came forward and took Taliesin’s offered hand. “I do not know the words of the Service Oath,” she said, “but I swear on my father’s life and on my brother’s life that I will faithfully serve the Raven Mistress. Take me on your quest, and I shall help my brother regain his honor as I regain my own. If you will have me, then I would be your friend.”
“Then is it settled,” Taliesin said. “Welcome to the Raven Clan, Jaelle.” The gypsy girl threw her arms around Taliesin and kissed her on the mouth. She didn’t know if it was a tradition with the Ghajar or not. She heard Roland chuckling and drew away, unsure how to react.
“We are now sisters,” Jaelle said, strangely excited. “I will tell my father I have joined your clan. He will have to let me come with you now.”
Roland’s big body seemed to fill the entire space in the wagon as he took two strides toward the women. He had a sour look on his handsome face.
“What’s wrong? You don’t approve?” Taliesin asked, as she started to dress.
“Of course, I don’t approve. I need warriors, not little girls.” Roland reached for a bottle of wine. “But I’m not in command. You are. And I’m sure you’ll do whatever you want, Taliesin.” He snorted as he lifted the bottle to his lips. “Women.”
* * *
At the break of dawn, Taliesin, Wren, and Jaelle had saddled their horses while the Ghajar women prepared breakfast for the men around the campfires. After their fill of raisin scones and sliced pears, washed down with strong coffee, they were ready to leave. Taliesin, in gypsy garb, red hair dyed black as a raven’s wing, and dabbed with enough gypsy perfume the sharp-nosed Wolfmen wouldn’t be able to identify her, blended into the crowd. Hawk and Rook were saddling their own horses, and the mule was loaded with provisions.
“Roland is with the Shan,” Hawk called out and pointed at the Shan’s bright red wagon.
With a nod, Taliesin headed to the wagon and heard loud voices coming from inside. The Shan’s sons, Tamal and Nash, stood outside the wagon with four other young men. Nash stepped forward to block her path, mistaking Taliesin for a gypsy.
“What are you doing here?” Nash asked. “Get back to work.”
; “Stand aside, boy. I’m the Raven Mistress,” Taliesin said. She revealed the hilt of her silver sword from beneath the folds of a dark purple cloak. “Your father is expecting me.”
“Women are not allowed to attend war councils,” Nash said aggressively. “You are not our equal, Raven scum, and you need to be taught your place in life.”
Tamal put his hand on Nash’s chest and pushed him away. Red blotches appeared on the younger brother’s cheeks, and the pair scuffled before one of the guards stepped between them.
“You’re a fool, Tamal,” Nash said. “I take no orders from any woman.”
Walking around the men, Taliesin again found her path blocked by Nash. The young man grabbed her arm, and she brought her knee up and connected with his groin. Nash dropped to his knees, his hands held between his legs, and groaned. Tamal and the guards started to laugh, showing no compassion for the boy, and Taliesin ascended the stairs. She opened the door and entered the large wagon. Roland, also dressed as a gypsy, sat across from the Shan and Zarnoc at a table with clawed feet. Zarnoc, painted like a gypsy, fed his yellow cat small pieces of raw meat. The wizard smiled. The cat was purring loudly.
“Sorry I’m late,” Taliesin said. “What did I miss?”
Octavio rose from his chair and bowed as she sat next to Roland. His long, graying hair was loose and hung freely across his broad shoulders. He wore an open white shirt that revealed his hairy chest. “We but discuss the route you will take,” he said. “My scouts report the prince has been penned by the Wolf Pack inside the Volgate. Tamal has selected four men to accompany you through the marshes. I have already provided silver weapons for your companions, Taliesin, but you will need more than silver and Zarnoc’s magic if you hope to reach your destination.” He pointed at a large silver axe on the table that looked familiar. “This is Moonbane. It was made for the sole purpose of killing Wolfmen. With your permission, I would like to give it to Sir Roland.”
Seeker of Magic Page 22
