by Shea Godfrey
“I’m sorry, Radha.”
“It’s all right. I found other things during my search to make it worth my while, a few things for my scrolls. This place, this land even, is rich in secrets and new knowledge.”
“More philosophy, my Radha?” The traveling trunk that carried Radha’s things was more precious than all of their baggage combined, even Jessa knew that. All of her life she had lusted after the spells and scrolls that marked Radha’s immense wisdom, but though Jessa desired to know what secrets they might contain, she respected Radha’s rank. Radha was a High Priestess of the Vhaelin, and she was still but a student. “You will let me read them now, yes?”
“You may read them when you are ready.”
“I am ready now,” Jessa said. I am more powerful now than even you had imagined, my sweet. Can you not feel it?
“Do you think so?” Radha’s voice took on a hard edge. “Now that you have a lover, is that it? Now that you know love, you are wise in all things? But even so, little girl, what other than that has changed?”
Jessa narrowed her eyes. “I have come into my power, old woman.”
“Have you?”
Jessa hesitated at the rigid words. Have I?
“Do not live so fiercely in the moment, Jessa, though it is sweet. And yes, I smell your power. It is like the pepper spice seeds beneath my nose and it makes me want to sneeze. But power without control is disorder and ignores the structure of things. We have yet to test your new strength, and we have no safe place within these walls to do that. So I ask you, when does the song of the lark become silence?”
“When the hawk is near.”
“Yes, and we are in more danger now than ever. If I can smell your power so easily, then Serabee will find your scent with very little trouble. But that does not mean that you cannot savor this moment.” She smiled, her words losing their edge. “You can still feel her kiss?”
“Yes,” Jessa whispered.
“And her touch?”
“Yes.”
“And so life is good, ashanna essa?”
Jessa smiled almost shyly. “She loves me.”
Radha chuckled. “Yes, I know. And where were you? Were you safe?”
“I’m not sure that I was safe, exactly…but the place was secure from prying eyes so you needn’t worry.”
“She did not hurt you in any way, did she?”
“No.” Jessa spoke firmly and gazed down the length of the bed. She felt the blush rise along her neck. “She would never do that, Radha.”
“I only mean that Cha-diah can be very dangerous, child. Remember your place in the order of things. Blood majik can turn quickly, and no doubt she’s been pushed by what was done to her. You must mind the strength and the nature of the animal that is within her and have a care when her power is high. The panther is a wild creature, always remember that. Do not ever forget that, Jessa, or you might both regret it.”
Jessa took note of the counsel and rolled onto her back, stretching her entire body and groaning as her muscles shuddered. She smiled yet again at the sensations humming through her body. Her shirt fell open and slid down her arm as she pushed onto her right hip.
“Chindonna!”
Jessa followed Radha’s gaze and laughed, for yet another bruise from Darry’s mouth was on the inside of her left breast. She closed her eyes for a moment and remembered the getting of it, and her stomach flipped over in a very pleasing manner.
“I hope you gave as well as you received.”
Jessa remembered the scratches on Darry’s back and how she had laughed in astonishment, only to find another along Darry’s neck. Jessa could still hear the sounds of their lovemaking and her heart beat fast. “Yes, I believe I did.”
“Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“No. And I don’t care.”
“Today you meet with the Lady Emmalyn and her dressmakers, and have a late lunch with the Lady Alisha and her mother to discuss her wedding.”
Jessa cursed and threw back the sheet, sliding to the edge of the bed. When her legs flopped over the side she sat still, considering how sore her body was in any number of areas.
“You need a bath,” Radha said.
Jessa narrowed her eyes.
“You smell like your lover.”
Jessa laughed and stepped to the chair, kissing Radha soundly on the cheek. She received a hard slap on her bare thigh for her troubles and stepped away quickly. “Do not be jealous, old woman. It doesn’t suit you.”
Radha marveled at how Jessa moved, seeing the difference in the way she held herself—with a blatant confidence Radha had long prayed for. She could, in fact, smell the Vhaelin swarming like a maelstrom in Jessa’s blood, unleashed at last and singing like nothing she had ever encountered before. The power was unlike any she had even imagined and beyond her most fervent hopes.
It was Jessa’s passion that had set it free, and Radha chided herself for not seeing it sooner. Often the greatest power was buried the farthest out of reach, demanding something primal for its release.
Radha gave a curious grunt and then laughed. “Cha-diah.”
Jessa stuck her head through the door of the washroom. “What?”
The volume of Radha’s amusement intensified as she glimpsed Jessa’s disheveled beauty. “Cha-diah!” she barked.
“What of it?” Jessa demanded, her eyes smiling. “You have no idea, love, none at all.”
Radha tried to catch her breath. “I might.”
Jessa shook her head and disappeared within. “Essa tua nessa…I can barely walk, Darry.” She stepped naked to the tub and climbed in, cringing as she sat in the steaming water. “Shivahsa!”
Radha appeared in the doorway. “Too hot?”
Jessa moaned her pleasure as she stretched back. “No.” She sighed. “No, it’s perfect, my sweet…absolutely perfect.”
Radha’s curiosity won out. “Does Cha-diah taste as pleasing as its scent?”
Jessa took a breath, sinking beneath the surface and refusing to answer.
“Ungrateful child.”
*
Joaquin sipped his karrem and watched the soldiers in the courtyard as they prepared for the day’s hunt. One of the private balconies of the expansive Blackwood Lodge gave him a wonderful vantage point, and he considered the amount of timber that went into its construction. Such a building in Lyoness would be for the richest of the court alone, though even then, few could afford it. I shall have to build one myself. He gave a slow smile. And let them fight to be invited to my door.
The day was becoming hot and it was not yet noon, and he pulled at his silken dressing robe. He was naked beneath it and wondered if he should bother with a bath. He could still smell the spirit of the kitchen girl he had fucked before dawn, and though it was an amusing scent, he doubted if his new peers would approve.
He hated the Green Hills. He hated everything about them, especially the dampness. And the insects were everywhere, inescapable. They were large and they bit, and the back of his neck was covered with small welts he had scratched in his sleep. The girl had placed a cool, soothing lotion on them, and he had repaid her well. Not every lowly serving wench could lay claim to having a Prince’s spirit within her womb. Joaquin chuckled and tossed his braid back with a turn of his head. Perhaps my seed will find root in these rotting hills and grow.
“My Lord, you called for me?”
Joaquin turned in the sunlight at Serabee’s voice and gazed back into the shadows of his room. “Yes,” he said, and his thoughts cleared. “And you took your time about it.”
Serabee bowed his head. “My apologies, my Prince.”
Joaquin tossed the karrem from his cup and left the balcony. “What say you then, Serabee? Can you carry out my orders?” He walked to the chair beside the hearth and turned about with a swish of his robe before he sat down. “It is time I made my play.”
“Yes, my Lord, your plan should work.”
“Should?”
“Nothi
ng is ever certain, young Lord, unless the gods allow it.”
“And so does the Fakir bless my glorious ascension to the Jade Throne?” Joaquin knew that his tone was far from respectful. Serabee stared at him with cold, calm eyes and fear fluttered deep in the pit of his stomach. He looked away and spied his clothes for the day on the end of his bed. “I meant no offense.”
“Of course not.” Serabee spoke quietly. “My man will arrive at Blackstone Keep sometime near dawn on the morrow. He will wait for his moment, then carry out your orders.”
“Do you wish the old crone dead as well?” Joaquin thought that he might gift Serabee with something he would appreciate. “No one will miss her.”
“That is not necessary,” Serabee said with a careful smile. He was dressed in his usual black with his brace of throwing knives about his waist. He had a vest on as well. The man wore at least three layers of clothes. “Thank you for the thought, my Prince.”
“I would think you would want her dead,” Joaquin said, then waved his hand at him. “Fickloche aladda, man, aren’t you sweating in all of that?”
“The Lady Radha is not so easy to kill,” Serabee said. “And no, I am not sweating, my Prince. You are perhaps used to a dryer heat.”
Joaquin frowned. “This fucking forest, I don’t know why anyone bothers to take a bath when all you have to do is walk outside.” He looked into his empty karrem cup and considered Serabee’s words. They were not what he expected. “What do you mean she is not so easy to kill?”
“You must trust me on that point,” Serabee said. “As I am a Lord of the Fakir, so is she a High Priestess of the Vhaelin. It is good to respect your enemies at times, my Lord. This my people have learned at a great cost, where the Vhaelin are concerned. Though if she gets in the way, I suppose my man can deal with her.”
“You suppose?”
“Yes, he should be fine.”
“I don’t want him to be fine, Serabee,” Joaquin said with heat, and pushed up from his chair. “I want him to murder my cunt of a sister.” He stepped close to the Fakir Lord and hit his fist against Serabee’s lean, hard chest. It was a firm blow for emphasis and he held his hand there. “And I do not want some slack-mouthed fool of yours making an attempt and failing.”
“No, my Lord.” Serabee took Joaquin’s hand with a gentle touch.
Joaquin blinked and felt the sun from the balcony on the side of his face, then a cool, dry breeze that drifted up from the floor. It washed beneath the hem of his robe and felt wonderful, easing the tackiness of his flesh in the humidity. He heard the horses in the courtyard below and someone laughing, and he remembered the tightness of the kitchen girl’s body and how she had called out his name as he had rammed his cock inside her. She had been a pleasant distraction and so he had not punished her for her lapse in manners when she forgot his title. She had been tight and wet, and she had smelled like kitchen flour. “And grapes,” he whispered.
He felt dizzy for a moment and then looked to his left to find Serabee as they stood beneath the arch to the balcony. Serabee had put his arm about Joaquin’s shoulders in a friendly gesture and Joaquin felt a surge of pride. Serabee had never touched his father so. “But if you think that I should go with him, to ensure that the Lady Radha does not interfere, it might be wise.”
Joaquin followed the logic as he turned away from the balcony and walked slowly to the end of the bed. “Then do it,” he said, picking up his shirt and giving it a shake. “And then Lyoness shall ride to war over the murder of their beloved Nightshade Lark, and my brothers will tear each other to pieces in the process.” Joaquin turned as he draped his clothes over his arm. “And here I shall be, protected in the arms of Arravan.”
“Yes, my Lord,” Serabee said. “It is the most important play of all, and well thought out. They shall not expect it.”
“They all have their own plans.” Joaquin felt tired. He had not felt tired with his karrem, and he wondered if the kitchen girl had worn him out more than he thought. It was the bloody humidity. “All of them, even Jessa, I should imagine.”
“Yes.”
“Malcolm would see his whelp of a son sit on my father’s throne, while offering me the privilege of being the little pig’s counselor. He would put me there to do all the work, and then he would ride in and take what is mine after I have cleaned out the rats for him. Does he think that I cannot see what he’s doing?”
“This way is much better, yes.” Serabee’s voice was oddly soothing. “And after this, your position will be secure, for Malcolm will have no other of Bharjah’s blood to help him complete his plan for Lyoness. He will think to use you as his puppet king, but he does not know you, my Prince. He does not understand how cunning you are.”
“Yes.” Joaquin said and sighed as his anger ebbed away. “Yes…yes, see to things, will you, Serabee?”
“Yes, my Prince, I will see to things.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jessa sang softly in the early afternoon sun as Darry lay on the ground with her head in Jessa’s lap. She braided together several strands of Darry’s hair, happy at last to have the opportunity. Draped along Darry’s thigh and purring a strange sort of accompaniment to the ballad, Hinsa lay at her leisure, her eyes lazy and staring down one of the twisting paths of the garden maze. Darry absently scratched the giant cat’s head, and its long tail flicked against Jessa’s legs.
Darry opened her eyes, listening to the Lyonese words she could not understand. Jessa stopped as her lips hovered above Darry’s, then continued her song. Darry grinned at the tease as Jessa let her fingers float through Darry’s hair. Jessa’s humor moved within her voice as she sat back and wove the seed of periwinkle within the tightly wound braid.
Darry took hold of a thick curl and pulled gently, and Jessa let her words trail off as their lips met in a pliant kiss. When released from the gentle demand Jessa sang the remaining chorus, which spoke of two lovers on their wedding day. The panther tipped her head back and let out a low rumble, drawing Jessa’s attention.
Hinsa huffed through her nose and yawned, baring her deadly teeth as her long whiskers shivered. Jessa laughed and stretched her arm out, feeling the wet nose against her palm and then Hinsa’s rough tongue as the cat sprawled back onto Darry’s stomach. Darry grunted at the sudden shift in weight.
“She is too heavy?”
“If I had my choice?” Darry responded, “I would rather it be you lying atop me.”
Jessa dropped her hand onto Darry’s stomach. “You’ll hurt her feelings.”
Hinsa flopped her head back, seeking her touch once again. Jessa obliged and ran a careful hand down the animal’s face, feeling the black skin of her jowls quiver.
“They did not lie,” Darry said.
“Who did not lie?”
“The one who claimed your voice might drive men mad and so named you the Nightshade Lark.”
“Have I driven you mad?”
“Sort of.” Darry grinned.
Jessa kissed her once more. “That is the first time I can remember that I have ever sung for the simple joy of it.” And then she kissed her yet again and stroked her tongue against Darry’s before she tasted her lower lip. “Thank you, Akasha.”
“Tell me what it means.”
“Smile as you just did.”
Darry’s dimple appeared once more. “Please?”
Jessa sighed happily and ran her fingers along the cheek. “I am thinking that I like this smile of yours very much. It is different from your others, and though all are very beautiful, this one most makes me want to kiss you.”
“I am at your leisure then, Princess.”
Jessa sat back and began to sing once more as she searched through Darry’s curls for more suitable hair.
“No?”
Jessa ignored her plea.
“You would leave me unsatisfied?”
Jessa stopped singing. “Are you not satisfied?”
“I have duty this eve. I’ll not be able to meet yo
u.”
“You cannot…what do you mean you cannot meet me?”
“The senior officers walk the wall with Longshanks,” Darry said. “And though I’ve been taken from the lists, I must attend. I’m sorry, my love. I cannot get free of it without causing suspicion.”
Jessa did not like what she heard, not at all. “I’ll not be able to touch you until when?”
Darry ran the backs of her fingers down the skin of Jessa’s neck. “Until I say,” she answered, then laughed at the dissatisfaction that greeted her. Hinsa gave a growl low within her throat and shifted her weight. She pushed to her feet and padded through the grass. “Are you angry with me?”
“Perhaps.”
“I should make it up to you then.”
“And ruin my dress? I think not.”
“It would not be the first lady’s dress I’ve ruined.”
Jessa laughed, remembering her words at the pond. She slid her right hand down the front of Darry’s shirt until her hand stopped upon Darry’s belt, which she fingered in contemplation. “Perhaps it is time for your uniform to be ruined, yes? I rather like this dress.”
Darry crossed her legs together at the ankles and sighed, trying to look casual as Jessa’s fingers pulled at the leather and loosed the flap. “Leave off, woman. I’m not interested now.”
Hinsa sat in the grass several feet away and extended her neck, letting loose a rather plaintive yowl.
Jessa laughed, glancing at the panther and then back to Darry in understanding. “I think you are lying, yes?”
“Don’t listen to her. She’s just a cat.”
Jessa pulled the belt open and settled her touch at the top of Darry’s trousers. She yanked them open and slid her hand beneath the material. “Is she?”
“Yes.”
“You’re being led astray, Lady Jessa.”
Jessa enjoyed the flush of color that darkened the skin of Darry’s neck as she slipped her hand farther. Hinsa’s purr rattled in the air around them and Jessa laughed again at the sound. “I’m finding this revealing in more ways than one.”
