by Jaide Fox
She surged to her feet, flattening herself against the wall at her back. “He would rather I was dead than dishonored, my belly swollen with the babe of a … a…!” she stammered a little hysterically, breaking off when she found she couldn’t remember what he’d called his people.
His lips tightened, his eyes narrowing with anger as he, too, came slowly to his feet. “Such a loving father,” he murmured.
“I would prefer it!” Aliya screamed at him with fury borne of fear. Pushing away from the wall abruptly, she raced toward the arch and the blue beyond. Don’t think about it! She commanded herself. For your honor, and your father’s honor, just do it!
She caught him by surprise. She’d already reached the archway and burst through it when something white hot snaked around her waist, yanking her to a halt on the very edge of the precipice and crushing the air from her lungs as if she’d been punched in the chest. For a handful of heartbeats she stared down at the clouds and rocks below her and then, as suddenly as a door slamming closed, blackness descended.
Her last thought as the darkness consumed her was relief. She was never going to know when she landed.
Talin uttered a curse when she began to crumple, jerking on the whip. The tug tumbled her backwards as she began to sink to the floor, keeping her from pitching forward and off of the balcony, but he saw immediately that she would be injured regardless. Uttering another curse, he surged toward her, catching her shoulders before she could crack her head on the stone floor.
Angry and shaken, he scooped her up from the floor jerkily and stalked across the tower room and out into the stairwell. She roused when he was halfway down, but apparently she was still too disoriented to entirely assimilate what had happened. He knew the moment full awareness finally hit her for she went from limp to stiff as a board.
He tightened his grip on her and negotiated the last of the stairs.
“I am perfectly capable of walking,” she said tightly.
Still furious, he set her on her feet abruptly.
She wobbled, but managed to stiffen her spine and lock her knees as he gripped her upper arm and hauled her along the corridor that led to the great room.
“Reyhan!” he bellowed.
The soldier, who’d been in the process of taking a swig of ale, jerked, pouring a good portion down the front of his leather jerkin. Slamming the tankard on the trestle table before him, he surged to his feet abruptly, brushing at the dampness on his jerkin as he hurried to answer the summons.
“Sire!”
Talin shoved the woman toward his guard. “Take her into the dungeon and secure her,” he growled. “Make sure she can not harm herself, else it’ll cost you your hide.”
Reyhan’s eyes widened fractionally, but he grabbed the woman firmly by one arm. “Yes, Sire!”
Talin looked her over speculatively. “And watch yourself. I imagine she would just as soon slit your throat as not if she can get her hands on a blade.”
Appalled and outraged, it took Aliya several moments to realize he really intended to have her thrown into the dungeon. “I am a princess!” she stammered finally. “I demand the rights of my station. You can not throw me in the dungeon like a common felon!”
“You are in no position to demand anything!” Talin growled. “Take her.”
She struggled briefly, but she either saw the futility of it or she decided it wounded her dignity to continue. She desisted after a moment, walking stiffly.
Talin watched the pair until Reyhan had vanished with her down the narrow corridor that led to the dungeon. Turning abruptly, he strode across the great hall, mounted the dais, and flung himself into his throne, drumming the fingers of one hand irritably on one chair arm. A round dozen men at arms were congregated in the great hall. He saw that they were gaping at him in stunned surprise and bent a furious glare upon them, whereupon they returned their attention to the games of chance they’d been amusing themselves with.
Scanning the hall, his gaze lit finally on the captain of the guard. “Solly!”
Solly jumped to his feet so quickly he nearly overturned the bench he’d been sitting on. Striding quickly across the hall, he went down on one knee before the dais. “Sire?”
“Round up a crew of carpenters. They are to install shutters and doors on every aperture--and bolts,” Talin snarled. “Starting with the royal suite. I want my own suite finished by moon rise.”
Solly gaped at him. “Sire?”
Talin’s eyes narrowed. “Have you grown deaf?”
Shaking his head, Solly leapt to his feet. “No, Sire! I’ll see to it, Sire.”
When Solly had left, Talin sank into his own dark thoughts, drumming his fingers on the chair arm. The next time he glanced up it was to discover the last of his soldiers slinking quietly out the door.
He was tempted to summon them back and demand some sort of distraction, but decided after a moment that he preferred solitude in his current mood.
It had been a mistake to take her, but that realization angered him almost as much as the fact that he wasn’t completely sure of why he had. He certainly had not gone to the Kingdom of Anduloosa for that purpose. In truth, he had had no clear idea of what he’d hoped to accomplish by going, other than to make it clear that he resented the insult to the man beasts in general and himself in particular.
Ordinarily, he was quite content that the inferior man children kept their petty little squabbles to themselves most of the time, rarely encroaching upon any of the kingdoms of the man beast. The tournament had been poor timing on their part, however. The clamoring of his beast to find a mate had become harder and harder to ignore in recent years, more difficult to ignore than the grumbling of his council that he had yet to take a queen and produce an heir to his throne.
Even so, he thought he could have ignored the uproar beyond the boundaries of his kingdom except for one minor fact--the princess, Aliya, was accounted the most beautiful and desirable of all, a pearl of such value that no kingdom in need of a queen wished to be excluded from the chance to claim her.
Until it had become known to him that kings and princess from far and wide were gathering to prove their worthiness of such a prize, he had ignored it. The fact that he had received no such invitation had begun to eat at him, however, long before he verified that not one royal from among the man beasts had been invited to take part in this great tournament.
He supposed he should have been appeased by that fact, not further enraged, but so it was. He had not been singled out for insult. He was not even important enough in their minds for that!
At first, he gave little thought to the princess herself, certain that their ‘pearl’ was likely as colorless and unappealing as the rest of her kind. Most likely he would have continued to believe that except for the growing numbers of men vying for her.
That gave him pause, despite his determination to regard her as unworthy of his time or interest. Could she really be so commonplace, he wondered, when so many were falling over themselves to fight for her? Or was it possible that she truly was a pearl beyond price?
And if so, then how dare they consider him unworthy without even allowing him to prove himself in battle?
When he had left his kingdom in his man form and disguised as a prince from another land, he had thought only to assuage his curiosity of the entire procedure and make it known to King Andor that he did not take such insults lightly and there would be a reckoning. For he’d fully intended to call his army to war and teach them the error of their ways if he was not completely satisfied when he left the kingdom of Anduloosa again.
He’d scarcely arrived, however, when he had caught a glimpse of the women in the rooftop garden and he’d decided in that moment to appease his curiosity about the princess herself. In doing so, he would put the fear of his wrath into King Andor by showing him just how vulnerable he and his family were.
All had gone well enough until he had found himself face to face with her. In truth, and though he hated to admit it
even to himself, he scarcely recalled what had happened next. He had known the moment he set eyes upon her that the rumors were not exaggerations of a woman barely better than plain. She was beautiful, so flawlessly perfect in face and form that his beast had seized his rational mind, instantly demanding to claim her for his mate.
He did not regret it, although he well knew that his impulse would most likely spawn a war the likes of which no one had ever seen. In truth, he would have been quite willing to join the others who meant to prove their right to her in the contest of skills that had been set to take place.
If he had been thinking at all rationally, he would have gone at once to her father and demanded he retract the insult and allow him to take part, as well, to prove to her that he was a far more worthy warrior than all the others.
He had not been thinking rationally, though. He hadn’t been able to think at all.
Grinding his teeth, he shifted in his throne and glared at the crew of carpenters that had begun to scurry back and forth through the hall, carrying tools and timbers. He was tempted to demand the lazy slugs use their gifts to move the materials instead of waddling clumsily along the ground, but it occurred to him that the task he’d set for them was easier performed in their man forms than bird and he tamped the urge.
Shoving himself from his chair abruptly, he stalked across the hall and opened the nearest window, pushing the crystal wide so that he could gaze out at the view beyond. Even the beauty and majesty of his domain failed to soothe him, however.
She had looked at him as if he was monster, so terrified she could barely move or speak.
He felt ill.
His impulsiveness had very likely cost him all he had sought to gain.
He should have wooed her as she deserved. He knew he was not nearly as handsome a man, as graceful, or as noble in bearing as when he took the form of a great, golden falcon, but he was certain he was not appallingly ugly. If he’d proven his strength and skill as a warrior, she would have admired that. She would have been pleased by the thought that her off spring would also be superior in every way--far superior to what she could have expected if she had been wed to some weakling man child!
Instead, she’d been so repulsed by the thought that she’d tried to fling herself off his balcony.
That angered him more than all the rest and he finally realized it did because it wounded him soul deep, that it was a blow to his ego he wouldn’t easily recover from.
He felt even more ill when he recalled that he’d been so stunned by her sudden dash for freedom that it had taken him several moments to realize that she couldn’t morph as he so easily did, that she had no wings to soar, that she would fall to her death.
And she knew it.
That was the hardest thing of all to swallow.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he focused on the view once more and finally hopped onto the ledge and dove out, transforming himself as he dropped. Too restless to remain in his castle, he decided to go to the kingdom of Anduloosa and see what he’d unleashed.
Chapter Four
Talin discovered he didn’t have to fly low over the castle of King Andor to see what he’d expected to see. Below him, the man children were dashing about frantically, like ants in a stirred anthill. Without difficulty, his keen sight easily picked out the purpose within the apparent pandemonium.
The man children were preparing for war.
And King Andor was not the only one readying for battle.
That was an unanticipated development.
He had given it little thought, but he supposed if he had he would have realized that the men who had traveled so far to vie for the fair maiden presently residing in his dungeon might not take their defeat well when they realized the prize had been snatched from their grasp.
Vaguely disconcerted, he saw that those households that had gathered for the tournament were now also preparing for war.
Still more in his beast mind than the more rational human side, he realized after a moment’s consideration that he was more pleased by the results of his theft than disturbed. He had not left his lands intending to start a war between his kingdom and the kingdoms of the man children, but he did not feel a great deal of regret that he had succeeded in doing just that.
After a little further thought, he realized that he was actually grimly pleased that he had.
He would prove his right to the princess by might--not in a child’s test of skills, in a tournament meant mostly for show, but on a true battlefield.
When he and his army had crushed the armies of the man children, Princess Aliya would see that he was far better suited to her as mate than any of the so called warriors that had gathered to claim her.
Satisfied with his observations, he caught an air current and drifted lower, low enough he caught the attention of those on the ground below him. When they began to shout excitedly and commenced to lobbing arrows and spears at him, he chuckled, adding insult to injury by dropping low enough he was almost within their range.
Resisting the temptation to drop lower still, and allow them a better target, just so he could demonstrate to them how impotent their efforts were, he caught an updraft and headed back to his own kingdom, Goldone.
It would be a month, at the very least, before they could move their clumsy army within reach of his own--for he had no intention of charging out to meet them like some green youth eager to fling himself upon a sword. He had time in plenty to plan his battle strategy and choose the place where they would meet and in the meanwhile, time to familiarize himself with his prize.
Perhaps he would woo her--just to please her. She seemed clever. No doubt it would not take her long to accept, but he wasn’t certain he would be satisfied with mere acceptance. When he had first come upon her, she had looked at him with frank interest despite her uneasiness. Even with the lust boiling in his own veins, he was certain he hadn’t imagined that.
The sun had dropped behind the mountains when he reached his palace once more. Lighting on the balcony of his own suite, he shifted, examining the stout door that now blocked the entrance critically. Satisfied that was sufficient to cage his little bird, he tried the latch.
He had to put his shoulder against the stout panel to push it open. Displeased by that, he was frowning when he finally stepped inside and turned to examine the hinges. “It scrapes the floor,” he muttered to no one in particular.
Silence greeted that remark and he turned after a moment to study the carpenters, who’d frozen in place at his comment. The master carpenter hurried forward. “I will see to that myself, Sire. I will take it down at once and trim just a bit from the bottom and it will swing more easily.”
Talin, finding he was in a far better mood than when he’d left the palace, merely nodded. “See to it that you do. The objective is to protect my beautiful princess--not suffocate your king. I am accustomed to air--and light.” Dismissing the door, he strode about the suite, surveying the shutters that had been placed over the windows. “It will be as dark in here as the dungeon,” he muttered irritably.
The master carpenter, who’d followed him, looked at the shutters in dismay. “Solly said you had ordered that shutters be placed over the windows. Did I misunderstand?”
“Shutters, yes--but there is no light. I have no view!”
“Bars, perhaps?” the carpenter suggested hesitantly. “They would allow a view and still protect the princess.”
Talin frowned. “I like the idea of feeling caged even less.” He thought it over. “And I do not care to make the princess feel a prisoner if it comes to that.”
The carpenter gaped at him. “Uh--she is not a prisoner?”
Talin glared at him. “Certainly not! I have decided to keep her.”
The carpenter’s expression went perfectly blank. After a stunned moment, he remembered himself and studied his feet before the king could take exception to his obvious confusion over the distinction. “If I may suggest, Sire,” he offered hesitantly, “with a lit
tle more time I am sure I could come up with a design for the shutters that will serve the purpose and still allow in light and view. I could do the same with the door, if you wish--cut some clever design into the panels?”
Talin considered it thoughtfully for several moments and finally nodded. “I will allow the princess to think of a design that pleases her. Women like to beautify their nests, do they not? It makes them feel--needed.”
The carpenter frowned, feeling that the king had asked his opinion and wondering if he dared express it honestly. Finally, he merely shrugged. “I think it likely, Sire. She will certainly be more comfortable if she makes the place more like what she is familiar with.”
Talin frowned, but thoughtfully. “An excellent suggestion!” he said finally, smiling broadly.
The carpenter blinked. “It was?” he asked, wondering what he’d suggested.
“I will send men to gather her cherished belongings and bring them here. Then she may arrange things just as she likes and she will be very pleased with my thoughtfulness.”
The carpenter wasn’t convinced. In his experience, once a man had thoroughly infuriated a woman by depriving her of her wishes--which he assumed King Talin had, for, from what he’d heard, the princess had been less than delighted to come--nothing short of bloodshed--his--would appease them, but he wisely kept that opinion to himself. Perhaps, he thought hopefully, she would be mollified at least a little that the king had put himself out to please her and it would stave off the battle of wills that was sure to erupt from the king’s arrogance for a time.
There was going to be hell to pay, though, when King Talin discovered he would have to jump through hoops before she was completely satisfied that he’d been punished enough. He only hoped that he could complete his task and make himself scarce before all hell broke loose.
