by Patty Jansen
Something snapped inside her. She lashed out and hit Kylian in the face with a slap that echoed over the water. Several of the monks gasped.
Shepherd Carolus looked at her with wide eyes.
Kylian grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. “That’s more like it.” He was so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath. It smelled nutty with a faint trace of liquor. “Keep up the anger. You can’t fight without anger. One day I might even tell you why you don’t yet have an heir.”
His face hovered over hers. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her again, and there was nothing she could do to stop him. Already her magic was singing out to him and part of her wanted it. She was hoping the Roald would come down to the water and go into one of his rages about his women but he did not. Again, Roald was smarter than she thought. Or maybe he had been captured already.
She pulled her arm. “Can you let me go? I’ve come here to speak to the abbot about our Shepherd and the other two men you hold prisoner. I don’t know why they are here, but I’d like to take them with me.”
“You—what?” Kylian started laughing. Shepherd Carolus was shaking his head, his eyes wide. “You have the hide to come in here and ask—what?”
Johanna tried to gesture with her eyes. Run, run!
“Why were they taken? What are you doing with them? What are you doing in that hole in the ground?”
“You would like to know all that?” His fingertips dug into the soft flesh of her upper arm. He chuckled. “You would really like to know all that, eh?”
Johanna met his hard gaze, trying hard to maintain her uncompromising stance. But his magic ate at her. Just give in, it said. There is no way you can fight him, it said.
“I can tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” He trailed the finger of his free hand over her nose, leaving behind a trail of tingling where his skin had touched hers. Part of her wanted to say Kill me tomorrow morning, and it will all have been worth it. She shook her head to force those silly thoughts from her mind. He was evil, a dark magician of the worst kind.
He paused his finger at her chin. “Or I could tell you, and I’d have to kill that idiot of a husband of yours.”
No, Roald. He knew Roald was here. Maybe his men had captured Roald already.
“Or I could take you up to the dining hall, order a nice dinner of food grown on the farm and tell you over a good glass of wine. I get quite lonely. I’ll let your hapless companions go in return, and I’ll even tell you a secret or two that will help you to get rid of that useless oaf Alexandre.”
Johanna met his brown eyes. She had to do whatever she could to distract him men so that Roald and Karl could escape. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I’m not. The choice is not so difficult, is it?”
“Just dinner?”
“Just dinner.”
Johanna took a deep breath. She didn’t believe him for one moment. He was going to take advantage of her, show her horrible things, keep her prisoner. Already, his magic affected her. She found it hard to think clearly. “Let me witness you letting the Shepherd and the two scouts go. Let go of my arm. I’m not a child.”
He laughed. “Why so suspicious? My word is good.” But he did release her arm.
“I want to see those men being freed. I want to see them walk away from here. Otherwise, I’m not doing anything.”
“All right.” He said something and two monks came forward with the Shepherd between them. His face was pale with red welts across his cheeks. From where he’d been hit?
He pleaded. “Don’t, Johanna. Please, don’t give in to him. Your life is worth more than mine.”
Johanna stepped close to him and whispered in the space between his shoulder and neck, “Go to the river. You’ll find a boat there. Wait for me on the other side. Save Roald.” The Shepherd nodded, his eyes wide.
Johanna stepped back. “Let him go. I will stay and hear what you have to say.”
She kept her back straight and rubbed her arm where he had touched her. The skin was still tingling.
She watched the Shepherd and the two young scouts walk into the night down the path. She hoped that Roald and Karl were smart enough to follow.
Then Kylian put his hand across her back on her hip. “Let’s go inside, shall we?”
Chapter 20
* * *
AFTER THE SHEPHERD had gone from sight, Kylian led her past the pond through the fields. Mist pooled in the valley turning the vineyards into ghostly shapes.
The monks accompanied them as silent sentinels. Johanna felt oddly calm inside. Somehow, ever since that dance at the palace, she had known that it would come to this meeting. Whatever attracted him to her, he needed to be disabused of the notion that she should come with him. She would calmly explain to him that she was committed to Saardam and Roald, and that it was neither shameful nor strange to love someone who wasn’t normal.
They went up the lane that led to the house. From the field came the sound of honking geese.
One of the monks ran into the field waving a stick to chase them off.
“Those things are a menace,” Kylian said, and it was the first thing he’d said since Shepherd Carolus had left.
“They’re only geese,” Johanna said. She thought of Roald’s dislike for the birds, and hoped that Roald was crossing the river right now. Not sure. She could see parts of the silver ribbon of water between the trees.
Kylian lit a storm lamp at the steps.
They went into a wooden door which creaked badly and gave access to a barn full of shovels, picks, hoes, rakes, wheelbarrows and other equipment that cast long, tangled shadows by the light from the lamp. Against the far wall, there were a couple of long tables covered with tiny grapes. For making raisins, she guessed. Mice rustled in dark places where she could not see them.
From that large room they went to another, this one a well-appointed farm kitchen with a large stove, an open fire and pots and pans on neat shelves. The air was heavy with the smell of smoke and food. A monk was kneading dough at the table and another was cutting onions. He greeted Kylian with a bow of the head.
Johanna’s stomach rumbled.
Kylian spoke briefly to both men and they responded with polite nods. A young boy came into the hall with them, carrying a candle.
Kylian took Johanna into a lush sitting room where the boy lit a few oil lamps. A lusty fire burned in the hearth. He gestured for Johanna to sit down on one of the couches and sat down on the other.
He said, “Dinner will be served shortly.”
“This doesn’t look much like a monastery.”
“It used to be one. Abbot Guenther was an uncle of mine and after his death he bequeathed this building and the surrounding land to me.”
“So it’s no longer a religious place?”
“The land and the house are mine, but the monks are welcome to stay for as long as they want.”
As long as they worked in his projects. “Do you still provide services for wayward royal sons?”
“Is that what you think we are? A work farm?”
“That’s what it looks like from where I’m standing. That’s what Roald has told me.”
Kylian snorted.
She warned him, “Call him an idiot and my promise is off.”
He let out a single huff of air that was a combination of a chuckle and a sigh. “Why so defensive of the idiot king?”
“He’s my husband.”
“A marriage of convenience, certainly.”
“I happen to like him quite a lot.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“No? Why is that such a surprise to you? He’s smart, he knows a lot, and he’s just awkward around people.”
“I would have thought a smart girl like you could find someone better than that.”
“You would like a smart girl like me to be hopelessly infatuated with you?”
He sniffed and let a silence lapse. From elsewhere i
n the building came sounds of voices. Then the door opened and a monk came in wheeling a trolley.
He pushed it to the table and set out two plates, glasses, knives and then a couple of bowls.
“The fare is quite simple here, but it’s good,” Kylian said.
When the monk had finished, they say down at the table. Kylian took his position opposite her.
The presence of the table between them made Johanna feel a little bit more relaxed. She let him pour her a drink from the carafe.
“Wine from the vineyard out there.” He glanced at the window, where the last rays of daylight coloured the western sky.
The liquid was clear and sparkled in the glass. It smelled of grapes. Johanna took a small sip. “It’s nice.”
He sipped, too, and set his glass down. “Let me serve you.”
He took her plate and carved a few slices off the roast leg of some sort of bird.
“Goose?” Johanna asked.
“You wish.” He grinned.
And that set the tone for pleasant banter while they ate. Talking about food was safe, and she got the impression that he hadn’t lied about being lonely.
She thought about his half-cousin Sylvan, who was often alone but never appeared to be lonely.
He had been right and the food was good. Johanna thought about Nellie, who would be out of her mind with worry right now, and maybe Loesie was behaving strangely again, and it worried her that Kylian was trying to keep her here, and that she must be strong against any magic he would try to use on her.
She prodded with her shoes for where the table legs were. Better not touch any wood here, considering the way he’d been trying to give her that splinter that would probably have told her about horrible things that had happened at the farm or in that hole in the ground.
After she finished her wine, he poured her another glass. The warmth from the hearth took the chill off the autumn air. The food was filling and the wine had made her sleepy.
“All right, enough now about the pleasant talk. Let’s get to business. It’s important that you know about this, because it affects all the known lands.” He rose from the table, went to the desk and brought a roll of parchment, which, when he unrolled it, turned out to be a map.
Johanna blinked her eyes and squinted at it. Stupid. She shouldn’t have had that second glass of wine. She was not used to it.
The map showed her the familiar outline of Saarland, Burovia to the south all the way to the lands of the southern ocean where the coastline was drawn in rough, incomplete strokes and the map gave only names like One Tree Island scribbled in pen after the map was completed. Not places where people lived.
The land to the east of the Horn was left empty. No one knew how much land was there. In the ocean, the mapmaker had drawn a fanged, scaled creature with its mouth open, as if about to devour the ship that sailed there.
Kylian placed his index finger on that sea creature. “Danger is coming from this direction, and we must get ready to defend ourselves.”
His voice sounded ominous, and he met her eyes squarely. He seemed to be quite sober, though he was swimming in and out of focus.
“How do you know that danger is coming?” she asked. Her tongue felt numb. Also, what did this danger have to do with the current situation in the low lands? If anything, the mess with Alexandre made the countries less able to defend themselves. “If you wanted to make us more defensible, wouldn’t you want to unite all the countries, not wage war between them?”
“We need to use magic to defend ourselves,” Kylian said. “These people who are coming are strong magicians.”
Ah, now she understood. “And any church that prohibits magic is in the way, right? So you sent Alexandre?”
“We did not ask him to do what he did.”
“But you were more than happy that he did it without your asking?”
“Many people have been unhappy about the influence of this church on our major sea port.”
“So you killed the priests and burned the city.”
“We rely on the cooperation of Saardam to supply us and to protect us from the menace. Saardam will be in the frontline. They will come over the sea.”
And he thought that attacking Saardam was the way to do that? “You are not listening to anything I say, aren’t you?”
“No, you are not listening to anything I say. I’ve seen the danger on the wind. They have ships that need no wind. They have dragons. We need to act, or they will overrun us.”
“If it’s our cooperation you want, you have a strange way of going about it.” She wished her head would stop swimming.
“If you would just allow me to give you this piece of wood, you would see it for yourself, and you would see that it is no trivial matter.” He held the splinter out on his flat palm. How did that thing come here? She had dropped it and she hadn’t seen him pick it up.
Johanna hesitated. She had been adamant that she would not touch any wood in this building. “I still can’t see why you can’t just tell me.” She ignored his outstretched hand with the splinter.
“No words exist for some of the things that threaten us. They must be seen to be believed.” He held his hand closer.
But the more he insisted that she touch the wood, the more she didn’t want to do it. That splinter of wood held some sort of trickery, she was sure of that.
She made no move to pick it up, and he put it on the table between their plates. “You really don’t trust me, right?”
“Having seen the evil magic you can perform, give me a reason why I should.”
He pushed himself up from the table and walked around to her side. She thought he was going to sit next to her or touch her. In fact, he walked so close that the air that whirled in his wake brushed her face. Johanna did her best not to flinch.
He went to a cupboard behind her and took out a carafe and two glasses. The fluid that sloshed against the glass was oily and bright green. Absinthe, the drink of demons and evil.
That was it.
“I think it is time for me to go.” Johanna pushed herself up from her seat. Whoa, her head.
“Why the hurry?” He faced her.
A smile played across his lips. He said nothing, but that expression said enough. It said how he didn’t think Roald was a worthy man for her. It said that for some reason he’d set his sights on her. It said that it was highly unlikely that she’d get out of this room with her dignity intact.
Johanna looked up into his face. Her heart was thudding. She saw his face as it had been on that first night in the palace, when he had danced with her, when he had kissed her.
“The people in the camp will be worried about me.” Johanna’s tongue wouldn’t cooperate. Her cloak hung on a hook near the door.
“Such a pity,” he said. “I’d have expected a bit more fire from you. But, alas. I’ll walk you to the jetty.” He retrieved her cloak from near the door.
All right, that was a lot easier than she had expected. Yet it didn’t make sense. First he threatened to kill her or Roald, and now he was going to let her walk out of here, just like that?
“You seem disappointed,” he said.
“That’s not the word I’d use.”
“But?”
“But what?”
“But you had expected me to be more insistent?” He trailed a finger over the skin in her neck. It gave her goose bumps.
“Something like that.”
“I’m an honourable man.” He held up the cloak and she slipped into it. His close presence gave her the shivers. He smelled of horse and smoke.
“I appreciate a beautiful woman.” He ran his hand over her hair, running the flyaway curls through his fingers. “But I know that she can’t be mine, although I would beg on my knees for just one more kiss.” His face hovered over hers.
“No,” Johanna said. “My men are waiting for me.”
He growled. “Your men are fools.” He pulled her into the envelope of his smell and closed his mouth over hers
. Johanna struggled. She tried to push him away, but he slid both his hands down her sides, holding her so tight against him that she could feel the heat of his body through his clothes. The magic burned in him. It sang to her, it pleaded with her—
No, he was just trying to trick her.
“Hmmm!” She pushed him away, but he was too strong. He forced her back until her back hit the wall. Nowhere to go. “Hmmmm!”
There was a sharp stabbing pain in her neck and the trickle of blood running down her skin. “Hmmm!”
Black spots danced in her vision. She saw giant flying creatures flapping huge leathery wings back lit by moonlight. She saw them open their mouths a spew fire. She saw a magician yell foreign words at them. His eyes were black as the night and his face glistened with sweat.
She was vaguely aware that Kylian picked her up with one arm under her shoulders and the other under her knees.
She saw ships coming into a foreign harbour. They were big and chunky, and the sails were red. Sea creatures reared from the water. Their big bodies coiled around her. Johanna tried to scream, but couldn’t. The creature pulled her under water. She clawed at its scaled surface, trying to push herself free of its coils. She kicked, she scratched, she pummelled the scaled skin with both her fists. It held onto her neck with needle-sharp fangs buried deep into the flesh. The coils had pushed up her dress and a different part of the serpent held her in an entirely different way. It rubbed her in a pleasant way. It went inside her. It roared.
Glass shattered. A cold wind blasted through the room. Johanna fell and landed hard on her knees.
The lights were out and the fire had died. Blood trickled down her neck into her dress. She reached up. Her fingertips found the wooden splinter still buried in her skin. She pulled it out and stared at it by the light of the moon.
There was a sound nearby.
She wanted to whisper, “Who’s there?” but her tongue was too dry. So she sat up and looked around her. Nothing. Where was Kylian? How long had she been out? Quite a while, she thought, judging by the stiffness of her muscles when she climbed to her feet. The floor was covered in grit, shards of porcelain and rubble. Her dress got caught under her feet, almost causing her to trip. The collar was wet from blood, but otherwise her clothing was intact. In the vision she had been naked. A shiver crawled over her back. The blood on her hands was starting to go sticky.
