The SAVAGE Series, Books 1-3: The Pearl Savage, The Savage Blood and The Savage Principle

by Blodgett, Tamara Rose

  Jocelyn was without internal fortitude.

  Anna and Evelyn came to flank Clara and Jocelyn swam forward and stood, the water rivulets gliding down breasts that she made no attempt to hide. They trembled with her anger in the cooler air. “I would take care of you, Queen Clara,” her voice enunciated sarcastically, “but I know Rowenna would punish me. So you are protected, for now. But come hither,” none of them moved. “Fine. You will be unprotected one day and we shall see how brave you really are. You behave as such but look at you. So small, so weak, you could harm nothing. Nary the butterflies which float above our flowers. You deserve not to be Queen along with your subject, the ugly Evelyn.”

  Ella looked at Jocelyn, a wide smile covering her face at her friend's clever words. Jocelyn's attention shifted to Anna for a moment then with a snicker, they floated away and exited the opposite side of the pool, giving a solitary glance back.

  Clara felt if a look could maim, she would even now be crippled.

  Clara waited until they were out of sight then told Evelyn to come to her.

  Evelyn's lip trembled but she did not cry.

  Clara was so proud she felt she would cry herself.

  “They would not leave it lay. They said that I was lying. That Lee was a wonderful male of the Band, that I had given 'wanton invitation'. That he would never think to even want me because I was ugly.”

  “Was it your lack of beauty that upset you?” Anna asked.

  Evelyn shook her head. “I know that I am not of the beauty of this clan. I thought I was fair of face. But now? Compared to how the others look...”

  “And what of this talk about her being passed about the fragment? Why have they made this supposition?” Anna asked.

  “I do not know. They assumed such. They thought I was older than I truly am.”

  “Listen to me, Dear Heart,” Clara said, tucking a finger under her chin and lifting it until their eyes met. “They are angry because new women have come amongst them, select. It is a rare thing to have the blood of the Band beating in our hearts.” Clara said, placing a small fist against her wet breastbone. “It is not something you or I asked for. It is something that we are, without choice. That they would anger over it is mindless and cruel. Do not let it bother you.”

  “What about that last? I was uncomfortable with her gaze,” Anna said, gooseflesh rising on her arms.

  Clara looked at her. “I did puzzle at that.”

  “What if she means to do something about Anna's clan? Her old clan?” Evelyn asked.

  “What say you?” Anna asked, an edge in her voice. She looked around nervously, her arms wrapping her breasts.

  “I say, what if those abhorrent creatures mention to the wrong set of ears that Anna resides here? With this clan?” Evelyn asked.

  “I spoke with Rowenna,” Clara began, tripping over using the name Mother as yet, “and she said that the male of her Band that attacked Anna has been shunned.”

  Evelyn's eyes became big like saucers and her hand covered her mouth. “Really? It has been many decades since such happened in our Band.”

  Anna looked down at her hands. “I have weakened my former clan by his absence. But Lord help me, it relieves me mightily to know that he is no longer there. He would have harmed another.” Her brown eyes met theirs and they clasped their hands together, lending comfort to one another.

  None saw the pair of malevolent eyes that roamed the feast of naked flesh before him. He would bide his time. And then the female would be his. His eyes took in the others. Mayhap them as well. His smile broadened at the thought.

  CHAPTER 20

  Unlike Clara, Rowenna did not feel any of the disdain for tables which placed their leader at its head. However, she did not wield a scepter as Ada had. Clara intuited that Rowenna was a fair and just leader. Her placement at the head was warranted and not meant to make her people feel lesser.

  Rowenna had, after much searching, found a suitable garment for Clara to wear to the feast in her honor. Every surface was covered with food and Clara was thrilled to see that tangerines were amongst the delicacies. It had been some time since she had consumed her most favorite fruit and she would be indulging this night.

  Clara could not keep her eyes off of Bracus and Rowenna. She recalled the conversation that she and Rowenna had partaken in during Clara's dressing.

  *

  “Tell me you love him and I will step aside. We do not have to ever see each other again.” Rowenna said earnestly.

  Clara looked at her mother as Rowenna anxiously bit her lip. Clara thought that she was never anxious and wore the emotion awkwardly.

  “I thought I did. But when things began to cause strife between Matthew and Bracus, it seemed fair that I no longer hold them to the constraints of courtship with a miserable girl such as myself who was unable to choose a mate.”

  “Daughter, you are not miserable. But you speak true. You will know your mate, he will sing to your heart. You are savage, the blood will know what it wants. I will warn you, it will be one of the Band. And what of the male, Matthew? He is very good to the eye, eh? And close in years to you.”

  That was true, Clara thought, her face turning pink. But she was curious about something and asked, even though she was quite sure it was rude, “Rowenna, how many years are you?”

  “Ah, Clara. You should know this! I am but ten and six older than yourself. Actually, a tad less.”

  Clara believed it. In fact, Rowenna did not look very much older than she.

  Rowenna laughed at her expression. “The Band ages slowly. How many years did you take Bracus for?”

  Well he was surely Matthew's age? Then she thought about it. He had been a boy when he came upon Matthew after he escaped the fragment, true?

  “He is ten and twenty, Clara.”

  Thirty! He was ten and two older than she?

  Rowenna laughed. “You will see. Even if only my blood runs through your veins you will look the age you are now for ten years hence.”

  “People of the sphere do not die quickly,” Clara said. She thought of Father. How the Healer was able to do nothing to save him.

  Rowenna's face became sad. “Your father knew the sacrifice he made for his descendents. He knew the travel through their time pathway would sicken him but he chose it. He was Band in his heart.”

  “Have you not been curious? Have you not wished to visit our sphere?”

  Rowenna shuddered. “No. I was there when Raymond burst out of the ripple, as if expelled from an evil womb. He was so ill after his travel that he could hardly...” her eyes met Clara's and she nodded. Clara understood what it was that she could not say.

  “What was my father like? As a man? To you?” Clara asked softly.

  Rowenna looked at Clara, holding tears that brimmed and glittered on her lashes but did not fall. “Tender,” she said on a whisper.

  “You miss him,” Clara stated.

  Rowenna nodded and turned away.

  Clara put her dress on in the quiet of Rowenna's bedroom, both women remembering one man.

  *

  Rowenna used a fork made of wood and lightly tapped it on a small brass bell which chimed. She stood and Clara noticed that she wore a long skirt and tunic which matched. They were a deep violet, not the grape color which Ada had fancied, but a rich plum that perfectly deepened the lavender of her eyes.

  “This is a happy day of glad tidings that my daughter, Queen Clara of the Kingdom of Ohio, has been called home by her savage blood. The blood of the Band beats within her. The Traveler’s portent of this momentous occasion has come to pass. As they foretold, she is the key to our future prosperity.”

  The clan-dwellers stood as a group, the Band standing in a loose circle at all portals of the large tent exits.

  “Now, as well you know, my daughter is destined to mate with one of the Band. A match amongst our own Band would not be advantageous, but from another, it would be most welcome.”

  Clara stayed seated, a horrible pre
cognitive feeling descended upon her and she found Matthew's eyes. What she found there confirmed her suspicions.

  The smile which she usually wore became frozen in place as Rowenna introduced a male of the Band she had not noticed, tucked amongst the shadowed corners of the tent. “This is Edwin, from the Clan of Massachusetts. He is the primary candidate for Clara.”

  Clara paled visibly. Rowenna had known of this, planned it, said nothing. She watched Matthew leave his position at the tent entrance and snake through the many clan-dwellers who stood, getting a view of the visiting male of the Band.

  Clara turned to give him her attention, and had never been more glad of royal bearing. It had been literally beaten into her. She stood and gave a small curtsey, extending her hand at an angle. She had been taught that a male could squeeze, shake or kiss her hand and it was a position of neutrality.

  Edwin grasped her small hand in his, the breadth of his palm completely engulfing it and raised it toward his mouth. She let her hand relax, as that was the best way to consummate the greeting.

  Clara watched her hand rise and finally her gaze locked with his and she startled, in spite of her automatic reserve. His eyes glowed a rich amber in the dim candlelight of the tent. She immediately wondered what color they would be in the sun. His hair was black like a raven's wing and the contrast was startling. She had never seen one who looked such as him. It was then that she became aware of the heat from the connection of their flesh.

  His lips pressed against not the top of her hand but the delicate underside of her wrist, her pulse beating against the suppleness of the skin of his lips. His eyes rolled up as his lips held hers and then he released her hand.

  Clara's breath rolled out of her on a shaky exhale. The whole of it had been but a moment but he had shaken her and knew it.

  He smiled. “It is excellent to make your acquaintance, Queen Clara.”

  “And I...” she cleared her throat of the thickness that had settled there, “you,” she finished, her eyes never leaving his.

  Edwin’s eyes flicked to something behind her and she instinctively felt Matthew move behind her.

  Rowenna approached and physically turned Clara to face her people. “They are well-matched, yes?”

  The crowd cheered, drowning out any and all dissent. The tense member of the Band at her back a constant distraction.

  CHAPTER 21

  “Why did you not warn me?” Clara asked in a fierce voice.

  “I thought you would be most pleased, Daughter. He is a prime specimen, no?”

  Clara huffed. “He is not an animal to rut with. We have not reduced ourselves thus, surely?” Clara put her hands on her hips. She had suffered through the celebration stoically, rendering smiles when she was not the least bit happy. Matthew had been a sullen presence the entire evening with Edwin making things worse by never leaving her side and being attentive to the smallest detail. It had been atrociously awkward.

  And then there was the matter of Charles, he had made a scene with Rowenna, calling her a pimp of sorts for trying to match-make between the two clans. He noted that it was no better than what her false mother had unsuccessfully tried to force upon Clara.

  Clara was beginning to feel an echo of familiarity with all of it. However, the men involved were not harming her at every opportunity so there was that consolation.

  Rowenna simply did not see the logic in not selecting Edwin. “You have broken your commitment with both Matthew and Bracus, no?” Rowenna held her gaze.

  Technically, this was true, but only because of the complication between the two. Clara told her as such.

  “Yea or nay. You are promised to no one?”

  “Nay, I am promised to no one,” Clara admitted but her heart said someone.

  Matthew.

  An image of him coming for her with the blood from her attacker wet upon his blade and drawing her into his body as the battle with the fragment raged all around them, his body covering hers with his protection. When Ada slapped her and Matthew had grabbed her wrist to stay her second strike.

  Rowenna dismissed Clara's hesitation, breaking her thoughts apart like glass. “I have promised our allied clan that the first of age female with the blood of the select shall be brought before them and mated straightaway. It is a great honor. And that it would be my daughter, even more so!” she slapped her plum encased thigh for emphasis and Clara bit her lip to keep from jumping.

  She heartily desired to be on solid footing with her mother but the logic could not be placed on her shoulders to understand. Clara had been subject to an entirely different upbringing and culture. There were similarities between the two peoples but some glaring differences as well.

  This was one of those.

  “Rowenna. 'Tis true I no longer avow myself as promised to Matthew or Bracus of the Band. However, my heart chooses Matthew. In fact, if I were to be honest with myself...”

  “Are you one bent on self-deception?” Rowenna interrupted.

  Clara met her stare. “No. But it has been a long year of courtship, manipulations and guilt. I feel that I handled the length of things badly. In my kingdom, a woman cannot marry until she is ten and eight.”

  “Humph!” Rowenna scoffed. “That is ridiculous. Many a female is ready as early as ten and five. I was!”

  Clara smiled. What would Rowenna not have been ready for?

  “Mayhap this be the case. But it is not the way of it in the spheres.”

  “You are ten and eight,” she stated.

  Clara nodded. “Two months past.”

  “To whom do you defer? Are we not discussing the courtship between you and Edwin?”

  “Actually, there is no courtship as of yet.”

  Rowenna's brows shot down over her eyes and her arms cradled her breasts. “Clara. You must deliberate on all things. Is this Matthew really the best match for all? I understand during the Rite that he and Bracus were the most blessed.”

  Clara nodded, suddenly deciding to bring it up. “And now Bracus would enter into courtship and eventual mating with you if you would allow it.”

  Rowenna smiled. “I can see that you gained your father's wits. That is most excellent.” Rowenna paced and Clara watched her march back and forth in her chamber, a frenetic energy fueling her movements.

  Clara waited, thinking that the potential loss of Bracus' attentions should make her sad. It did not, she felt relief instead.

  “I will respect your wishes if you but give Edwin a chance,” Rowenna pleaded. “It would mean much for our peoples to have peace. It would expand our territory and unite us on all fronts. It would mean additional protection against the fragment.”

  Clara knew political machinations when she heard them. She also knew the importance of it all. But having been so close to a forced loveless match with Prince Frederic, she would not be rushed in her decisions. And there was another matter which needed addressing.

  “Matthew is a male of the Band and has been most patient with me.”

  Rowenna opened her mouth to speak and Clara held up her hand.

  “If he still wants me...”

  “Aye, he does.”

  Clara shook her head. “It matters not. It is my duty that my conduct be equivalent to his. If he were, it would make things terrible for me to ask to partake in another shared courtship. It is too much. He has protected me when he did not need to.”

  “Do you wish to be with him?”

  Clara felt the heat rise to her face. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Why do you become embarrassed?”

  Clara met her eyes then looked down again. “It is not something which is freely discussed in the spheres. We have another way of discussing things.”

  She laughed. “Methinks not at all.”

  Clara smiled. That was more true than she wished to admit.

  Rowenna faced her. “What do you decide, Daughter?”

  Clara gave a shrug. “I do not know. But I must speak with Matthew. I do not know this Edwin. He
may not be to my liking.”

  Rowenna moved very close to Clara. “It appeared that he was very much to your liking from my perspective.”

  Clara looked up at Rowenna, her mother. “My body responds but my heart must agree,” she replied simply.

  Rowenna took Clara into her arms and Clara clasped her mother to her, grateful for the relationship, fearful of its duration.

  *

  “It is awkward between you and Rowenna?” Matthew asked.

  Clara nodded. “It is for me. She does not appear to suffer awkwardness as I.”

  Matthew laughed, taking her hand as they walked. “She thinks as a male but looks as a female.”

  “That could be,” Clara said, bringing his hand to her face and rubbing her cheek against it. He folded it around her cheek, cupping it, his fingertips sliding into the hair at her temple.

  They looked at each other. “What did you tell her?”

  “I told her I must speak to you about her proposal.”

  “Do you want him?” Matthew asked with a growl.

  She looked at him for a moment and he said, “Your silence is answer enough.” His hand slid away from her cheek and she said, “Do not go,” in a low voice.

  He turned, anger making his face hard.

  “I do not have a right to ask but things are tenuous between my mother and I. We have just made our acquaintance and she has encouraged me to make a good faith effort to court Edwin.”

  “It is for her benefit, Clara. How is she different than Ada? When will you choose what is best for you? It is always, 'what is best for the sphere, the clans'. Never for you.” His hand wound around her neck and he shook her softly. “Why can you not see that you have a right to rule and not be ruled? I know that she is important and you wish to not ruin what you have just found. But self-preservation is in order,” he said as he pressed his forehead to hers, a flame igniting between their connected flesh.