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Binding Spell (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms)

Page 9

by Pope, Christine


  Here I was the lady of the land, and although perhaps I did not have quite as much freedom in my movements as I would have liked, still it seemed most of my wishes were obeyed without question — not that I asked for anything more untoward than venison for dinner one night rather than yet another round of lake fish, or requested much beyond some additional books to supplement Kadar’s quite extensive library. I could even leave the castle as long as I had sufficient escort with me, and so was able to familiarize myself with Tarenmar’s muddy streets, its central market and the surprisingly good playhouses that crowded its eastern border.

  I did wonder at the lack of response from my family; two weeks had passed since Kadar brought me to his capital, and that certainly allowed enough time for my aunt to have received his letter and for her to have sent word on to my father. Not that I expected to see the armies of Sirlende sweeping down upon Tarenmar to avenge my wronged honor, but the absence of any sort of reply had begun to send small threads of doubt through my mind. Kadar had said he sent the letter, but I had not used the truth spell to verify his actions. For all I knew, he had thrown the paper into the fire, and my family thought me dead, lost forever.

  As one might expect, this prospect dismayed me a good deal, but I could not think of how to remedy the situation. I did not yet have the courage to confront Kadar openly about his letter. While he seemed to treat our separate sleeping arrangements with a sort of weary good humor, I could not help but wonder how long his patience might last. Not forever, certainly, and though we got on better than I could ever have expected, considering our rather rocky start, still I had no desire to share his bed.

  My presence was not required at all of the Mark’s audiences; he met with his lords separately, in the same chamber used for the Hall of Grievances. During those times I usually stayed in our apartments and read, or journeyed forth to the marketplace if the weather was fine. This particular day, however, a chill rain fell, one which drove the bright leaves from the trees and hinted at the harshness of the coming winter.

  Restlessness sent me from my rooms, Beranne my faithful shadow. Within the castle I was not required to have more than a single retainer as an escort, and though I had already thoroughly explored much of the stronghold, I thought perhaps I could revisit the hall where some very fine old tapestries were hung, or walk again through the long corridor on the east side of the castle that functioned as a sort of informal portrait gallery. Anything rather than remain in the apartments I shared with Kadar.

  Because of the weather, the castle seemed unusually crowded, with knots of men standing about talking instead of being outdoors on one of their regular hunting expeditions, and servants finding all sorts of indoor tasks to occupy them rather than hanging laundry in the kitchen yard or going to market to purchase supplies. More often than not people got out of my way, even when I was accompanied only by Beranne, but then I rounded a corner and almost collided with a young woman of about my own age, someone who clearly hesitated before she stepped aside.

  She stood out in the dark-garbed crowd not only because of the sky-blue wool gown she wore, almost the color of her eyes, but also because she was quite outstandingly lovely. Her hair was sleek and black as a raven’s wing, her skin very fine. Long lashes swept down over those startlingly blue eyes, and I almost heard a sniff as she made her curtsey.

  Then we had passed her by, but the resentful expression in her eyes stayed with me long after she had left my sight. After we had rounded a corner, I turned to Beranne. “Who on earth was that?”

  “Who, my lady?”

  I stopped and crossed my arms. Here, on the edge of the portrait gallery, the hallway was empty save for my maid and myself. “That woman in the blue gown.”

  “Oh, her.”

  “Yes, her. Well?”

  Beranne hesitated. Her pleasant, round-cheeked face was not made for distress, but she looked quite anxious. “I can’t imagine what she was doing here — his Highness sent her away weeks ago — ”

  “Beranne!”

  “She’s Tanira Banaris, my lady.” Her eyes would not meet mine. “She is — that is, she was the Mark’s mistress.”

  Well, I supposed that would explain the young woman’s apparent hostility. At the same time, I felt an odd little twinge. So Kadar had a mistress, did he? I told myself the situation wasn’t that odd; highborn men had been known from time immemorial to keep mistresses. It had nothing to do with me. Frankly, I should be glad the Mark had someone to keep him occupied. No wonder he was so remarkably unruffled by my continuing presence on the couch rather than in his bed.

  Apparently unnerved by my silence, Beranne said, “Not anymore, my lady. As I said, his Highness sent Lady Tanira away some three weeks ago, before you were even brought here.”

  “Oh, it’s Lady Tanira, is it?” I asked, and was a bit surprised by my own sour tone.

  “Yes. Her father has holdings up near the northern border. Very little wealth, I’ve heard — she’s like to be married off to the owner of one of the tin mines, if Lord Banaris has his way.”

  “And how does the lady feel about that?” While I certainly had no reason to love this Tanira Banaris, if what Beranne had told me was true, still I was more than a little sensitive on the subject of forced marriages.

  This time it was Beranne’s turn to sniff. “What more could she expect, with everyone knowing of her relations with his Highness? She all but threw herself at him, and what could anyone expect him to do? She is very beautiful — but no more so than your ladyship, of course,” she hastened to add.

  “Of course,” I murmured, and felt my mouth quirk. Truly, it mattered very little whether Tanira Banaris was lovelier than I. Kadar had married me, not her…more’s the pity. If only he had been the kind of man to be swayed by a pretty face rather than impressive bloodlines, he could have wed the young woman and left me to my fate. But ambition had apparently out-ruled lust in his case.

  Why Kadar’s erstwhile mistress had returned to the castle, I did not know, but I had the sudden impression he would be less than pleased to learn she was here.

  * * *

  I heard the shouting when I was still a few paces away from the double doors to the apartments Kadar and I shared. Beside me, Beranne stopped, one hand going to her mouth.

  The guards standing just outside the doors exchanged a grin. “Not the best time to go inside, my lady,” said the guard on the left, whose name was Thran.

  “Indeed?” I replied, my hands on my hips. “These are my chambers, are they not? Why should I not enter?”

  He exchanged a quick glance with Beranne, as if silently asking her to make me see reason. “His Highness is occupied at the moment.”

  “I can hear that.” I paused long enough for a woman’s voice to cry out something about a lying bastard. Kadar’s reply was muffled, so I could not make out any individual words. But he sounded quite angry indeed. “Perhaps he would be glad of an interruption.”

  And I strode past Thran and raised the latch. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him lift one hand and then subside, as if he had realized that attempting to restrain the Mark’s consort against her will might not be the wisest course of action. I chose to ignore him, and swept into the sitting room before closing the door behind me.

  Kadar and Tanira faced each other in front of the fireplace. His back was to the entrance, and so he could not see me. She, on the other hand, spied me at once, her blue eyes widening as I squarely met her shocked glare.

  “Who is this, Kadar?” I asked. “I must say she appears to be a trifle upset.”

  At my words he turned to face me. Oh, yes, he was angry; color burned high on his cheekbones beneath the last remnants of his summer’s tan, and the golden eyes fairly snapped with fury. “Lady Tanira,” he said deliberately, “was just leaving.”

  “I was not!” she retorted, and stamped her foot. Despite myself, I wanted to grin. I had read of people stamping their feet in anger, but I had never actually seen anyone do such a th
ing until that moment. “Is this what made you discard me — this meaching little Sirlendian baggage? I can’t say I think much of your taste!”

  “I find myself questioning it as well,” he replied, with a sharp glance in Tanira’s direction. There could be no possible way to misinterpret his remark, and I saw her scowl as the barb found its way home.

  I looked toward the doorway. Perhaps I shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as I was, but then again, I was not disposed to think kindly of someone who called me a “baggage.”

  “Should I call the guards?” I asked.

  “I don’t think that will be necessary. Will it, Tanira?”

  Full mouth pursed into an angry pout, she glared at Kadar and then at me. “You should not have treated me thus.”

  “What, the dowry of a thousand silver crowns I sent home with you wasn’t enough? I should think that would have been sufficient for your tin merchant to overlook your rather…sullied…status.”

  The crack of her hand hitting his cheek was shockingly loud. I flinched, and waited for the explosion that surely must follow.

  But it did not. Instead, Kadar made her a mocking little bow, then pointed toward the door. “I think you know the way out.”

  She turned a most unbecoming shade of red and gathered up the folds of her forget-me-not-colored skirts before lifting her chin in the air and storming from the room. The slam of the door was almost as loud as the slap she’d delivered a moment earlier.

  For a few seconds Kadar and I were both silent. Then he cleared his throat. “I am sorry you had to see that.”

  “Indeed? I must confess I found it rather entertaining.”

  “You — ” He paused and shook his head. “Most women would not care to be confronted by their husband’s mistress.”

  “True. But you and I do not have what could be called a precisely conventional marriage, and it seemed clear enough to me that you wanted nothing to do with her. Anyway,” I added disingenuously, “Beranne had already told me that you had tried to rid yourself of this Tanira person some weeks ago. I don’t believe it would be fair to blame you for her bad behavior.”

  Again he was silent. The hooded lids dropped to partly conceal his eyes, and so I had a difficult time attempting to read his mood. His mouth tightened and then somehow relaxed into a smile. Before I could think to react, he stepped toward me and touched my cheek briefly before letting his hand drop back to his side.

  “I recall telling Sirdahl that life with you would be far from dull. It appears I was correct in that assumption.”

  Then he turned from me and left the room. As he shut the door, I could hear him begin to give Thran and the other guard a dressing-down for allowing Tanira entry in the first place.

  I stood there for a long moment. Almost unconsciously I raised my hand to feel the spot on my face where Kadar had touched me. I should have stopped him, and yet…

  …and yet somehow I was glad I had not.

  Oh, dear.

  * * *

  Almost a week later Kadar rode out in the company of his guards, on some errand whose purpose he did not reveal to me. I told myself I should be glad of the separation. We had spent too much time together these past few weeks, and it was obvious I was not thinking clearly. For why else would I continue to feel the pressure of his hand against my cheek, even though I had washed my face quite vigorously the night he had touched me?

  Beranne, always my source for the latest information within the castle, told me that Tanira had been sent packing soon after she stormed away from our chambers, so I knew it was no assignation of that sort which drew Kadar from his stronghold this morning. He did leave the castle several times a week on a variety of business, from following the progress of the fortification of Tarenmar’s walls to overseeing a special project of his involving the creation of a central exchange to expedite the flow of goods coming into the country.

  But none of those tasks should have elicited the aura of barely suppressed excitement that surrounded him this morning. He had seemed almost absent as he bade me farewell and went to join his party. I watched him go, surrounded by a smaller escort than usual; only six men accompanied him this time. Wherever he was headed, apparently security was of no great concern.

  During my time in the castle I had also discovered what must once have been a music room in one of the building’s forward towers. Apparently Kadar’s maternal grandmother had been quite musical. A green-muffled harp still stood against one wall, and a tall cabinet held a variety of carved flutes. A small chest contained age-faded papers covered with musical notations in barely legible ink, but the shelves in the room were quite bare, just waiting to be filled with books.

  So I had placed some of my recent purchases there, and took over the chamber as my own private sanctuary within the castle. Surely Kadar knew I had made it my impromptu study, but he never said a word to prevent me from going there. While our apartments were more luxurious, I found I preferred the little tower room, not merely because of its atmosphere of quiet peace, but also because it provided an excellent vantage point for me to see everyone who came and went through the castle’s main gates.

  This was how I saw Kadar return late in the afternoon, his party now numbering nine instead of seven. The rain had returned, and all the men had turned up their hoods as protection against the wet. I could not see the faces of the additions to their group, only that one of them presented an oddly shaped outline, as if he had some sort of pack muffled under his cloak. He seemed to have difficulty staying in his seat; he swayed in the saddle as if he were intoxicated or perhaps ill, yet he did not fall.

  What became of this newcomer, I did not know, for even though I left my tower room soon after under the pretense of greeting Kadar as he entered the castle, I saw no sign of the other man. But the Mark appeared in high spirits, meeting me with a grin.

  “Do you know what day this is?”

  I shook my head.

  “Why, it is my birthday. I am told the cooks have prepared a great feast. And we will have dancing again. I hope this time you will be more inclined to stand up with me.”

  He appeared the very picture of a man without a care in the world, but something in his manner almost seemed forced. I could not exactly put my finger on why, save perhaps for a certain tautness to his jaw and a tension in the lines of his throat.

  It seemed best to play along. “I think that can be arranged. You are remiss, though, my lord.”

  “Remiss?”

  “If you had provided me with some warning that this was your birthday, I could have gotten you a gift. As it is, I have nothing to give you.”

  His smile widened. “As to that, you are gift enough for me.” He took my hand and brought it to his lips. “Wear something festive.”

  And with that he left me to watch after him, until the crowds in the corridor obscured him from view. I frowned, wondering where he had gone, and who he had brought back with him. I guessed I would not soon know the answers to either of those questions.

  * * *

  We stayed up into the small hours of the morning, Kadar urging the musicians to play dance after dance. It was a good thing by this time I possessed a pair of properly fitting slippers, or I would barely have been able to put one foot in front of the other by the end of the evening. The company consumed far more game meats and wine than I thought wise, considering we looked to be headed into a harsh winter. Then again, they knew this land far better than I. No doubt Althan and the other household retainers had already calculated the supplies necessary to see us all through the cold months.

  As promised, I did stand up with Kadar many times, though I took my turn on the floor with others as well. I thought it prudent to keep him from monopolizing me too thoroughly. Just as well, for as the evening wore on and I drank more wine, I began to enjoy our dances together a little too much. He danced well, but it was more than that. I found myself looking forward to the feel of his fingers against mine, the weight of his hands around my waist as h
e spun me into place.

  The glow in those odd golden eyes as he looked down into my face.

  No doubt he thought the evening a great success, my open demeanor one step in a softening process that would eventually lead to my being his consort in more than just name. But as I lay down on the divan and shut my eyes, I berated myself for my weakness. Surely my resolve couldn’t have begun to melt after only a few weeks in his presence?

  I drifted off to sleep, no doubt assisted by the wine I had drunk earlier that evening. But at some point my eyes flashed open, as an odd thrill moved through my body.

  Someone in the castle was using magic.

  In the past I had been able to detect this sort of thing whenever my father cast a spell. The closest I had ever been able to come to describing the sensation was to say that it felt like standing on the deck of a ship floating on a calm sea, only to have a swell lift you up from underneath and shake your balance.

  Only this swell was stronger than anything I had ever experienced before. My father’s powers were greater than mine — or at least he had a great deal more practice and control — but the tidal surge of magic that swept over me now made his efforts feel small as ripples in a mill pond compared to surging ocean breakers.

  I sat up and clutched the blanket against my breast as the world seemed to rock and sway around me. I had never conceived of such power, never believed it could exist in the present day’s pale remnants of magic.

  Somehow I swung my shaky legs over the edge of the divan and stood. The flow of magic called to me, pulled me toward it with the inexorable strength of an unfettered rip tide. I took a few tottering steps toward the door before the surge of power disappeared. With its absence, my sanity returned. What on earth had I been thinking? I wouldn’t have gotten a foot past the doors to our apartments without one of the guards halting me.

 

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