Fire of the Soul

by Speer, Flora

  “I could see little opportunity for Anders to make a decent life for himself at Kinath, so I took him away with me, to be my squire. He was too young by several years, but he was eager to learn all he could. He knew horses and armor, having grown up in the stables and among men-at-arms. I promised him that if he behaved well until he turned twenty-one, I would supply the required two horses and his armor, and I’d see that he was knighted. I have tried to reform his manners, too.”

  “No wonder he’s devoted to you.” She looked hard at Garit, noting a tiny nick on the side of his firm jaw that was undoubtedly the result of his last shave before he’d have to cope with the motions of a ship at sea. Rather than chance more nicks he’d likely grow a beard by the time they reached Kantia. For the moment, though, his face was clean of stubble. Calia fought a most unseemly desire to touch his face, and then to outline his lips with her fingers before she placed her mouth on his. He would fold both his arms around her and hold her close and safe....

  She jerked herself upright, pulling away from him.

  “I won’t hurt you, any more than Anders will hurt Mairne,” he said, frowning at her. “You needn’t fear me, Calia. You are perfectly safe with me. I have no dishonorable intentions toward you.”

  “I’m not afraid.” She made herself glare at him.

  “Then why so shy? And so fierce?”

  “I am not—” She stopped, realizing how foolish she’d be to argue with him. Knowing and accepting what the end of their association must be she could, if she dared, allow herself to care for him. But she could not, in honor, allow Garit to care for her. Sooner or later he’d learn whose daughter she was and he’d only hate her more then, if he began to care for her now.

  “I ought to see if Lady Elgida needs anything,” she said.

  “Of course.” Garit stepped back and took his arm from her waist.

  How cold the sea breeze was without that warm support, and how alone she felt as she crossed the deck to the hatchway and the ladder. She couldn’t stop herself; she looked back. Garit stood easily, one hand on the rail, swaying slightly with the motion of the ship and watching her with an expression she could not decipher.

  “Damnation,” Garit muttered to himself. The minute Calia disappeared through the hatchway he turned to face the sea, gripping the rail so tightly with both hands that it should by rights have disintegrated into splinters.

  He knew exactly what the problem was. He’d been a true and honest lover once, keeping himself from all other women until he’d seen the exhumed body of his first love and had known beyond all doubt that she was lost to him forever.

  In the three years since that dreadful day he had bedded a few women, for he was still young enough to have physical needs that were at times demanding. Two of those women were noble widows, each as eager as he was to end the frustrated clamor of their bodies and neither of them interested in marriage. The third woman was no lady, but a randy maidservant, who had thrown herself at him on two separate occasions. In different times and places Garit had satisfied each of the women, while temporarily pleasing himself. But only temporarily. His heart remained an empty, barren place.

  And now, he wanted Calia. They had met only a few days ago, yet he felt as if he’d known her all of his life. He liked her intelligence, her fierceness when he challenged her, and he liked even more the way she obviously loved his grandmother.

  She wasn’t the least bit like his lost love. Chantal had been all burnished red-gold hair, sun-kissed skin, amber eyes, and light-hearted, teasing laughter, like an autumn leaf dancing in a warm breeze.

  By contrast, Calia was far more serious, small and slender, yet stronger than she appeared. He wanted to run his fingers through the straight, dark hair that lay so smoothly against her elegant head. He longed to loosen her tight braid and fan her hair out across his pillow. Calia’s eyes, ever-changing, sometimes grey, sometimes green eyes, that regarded him with such cool assessment, then melted into a tender warmth and understanding – those eyes threatened to undo his cold, unfeeling heart.

  He didn’t care that she was illegitimate and had no dowry. He didn’t need a wealthy bride, for he held Castle Auremont in his own right and in time Saumar Manor would be his, too. He could marry where he pleased, so long as King Henryk made no objection.

  Staring at the sea, Garit acknowledged that he did need an heir, if only to carry on his grandmother’s bloodline to the holders of Saumar who came after him. Bedding Calia would be no chore at all. He didn’t have to love her, just to treat her kindly.

  After reminding himself, as he had done every day for more than three years, that he would never love anyone but his lost Chantal, Garit decided to woo Calia. He didn’t think she’d object. Marriage to a noble lord would be a fine match for her.

  So, after the mission on which the Lord Mage Serlion had sent both him and Durand was completed, on the way back to Saumar or shortly after his arrival there, he’d speak to his grandmother. Then he’d ask his intended wife to grant him her very capable hand. Until that time, he told himself, he’d simply have to control his manly urges toward the lady.

  That evening Lady Elgida and her two female companions dined with Captain Pyrsig in his cabin, which was the largest on the ship. Garit and Anders were also present, as was another passenger whom the ladies hadn’t met, who had come aboard at the very last moment.

  “This is Lord Durand of Granvay,” Captain Pyrsig said to Lady Elgida. “He’s traveling to Kerun City.”

  “My lady.” Durand made an elegant bow over Lady Elgida’s hand and then over Calia’s. He looked at Calia so long and so intently that she began to fear he knew who she was.

  “Granvay?” Lady Elgida said, her question drawing Durand’s attention away from Calia. “You’re no Kantian, then.”

  “No, indeed.” Durand responded with a smile, though Calia noticed that his gaze was as sharp and shrewd as Lady Elgida’s own. “Neither is my sister, Lady Ilona, who is presently residing at the Kantian court with her husband.

  “Lord Garit.” Durand turned to him, extending a hand, which Garit promptly accepted. “I’ve been told we’ll be sharing a cabin. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Thank you,” Garit said. “Tell me, my lord, would your sister’s husband be Lord Euric? If so, we’ve met and I’d be pleased to renew my acquaintance with him, if our journey should take us to the court at Kerun.”

  “Then I’ll see to it that you do meet,” said Durand. “I think the ladies would like my sister, too.”

  “Now that ye all know each other,” Captain Pyrsig interrupted, “shall we eat while the stew is still hot?”

  In correct, formal manner, Durand offered his hand to Lady Elgida, to see her to the table, and Garit took Calia’s hand. She had the peculiar impression that Garit and Durand were carrying on a discussion in some kind of code that the other people present, including herself, could not follow. It seemed to her that every word those two men spoke contained a different meaning than the most apparent one. However, her puzzled speculations didn’t last long, for she was intrigued by the captain’s cabin.

  The wooden walls of the cabin were whitewashed. The single bunk, which was somewhat wider than the bunks provided for passengers, was solidly built against one wall and

  covered with a bright red quilt that was neatly tucked in around the wooden frame. The table was narrow, bolted to the deck, with built-in benches on one long side and at the head, and a movable bench on the other long side.

  Captain Pyrsig sat on the short bench at the head of the table, facing the door. His guests were served cold roast meat, a hot vegetable stew, fresh bread, and cheese, all washed down with a Morenian wine of remarkable character.

  “How is food cooked aboard ship?” Mairne asked from her seat next to Anders. “I didn’t expect a hot stew.”

  “The cook has a small stove,” Captain Pyrsig answered. “He’ll show it to ye if ye ask him. When we run through foul weather he douses the fire and we ma
ke do with uncooked food until it’s safe to start a new fire. Few things are more terrifying than a fire at sea. The Kantian Queen has been fortunate to avoid that fate.”

  “Perhaps you and your cook are just very careful,” Calia remarked.

  “I try to be.” Captain Pyrsig sent a bright smile in her direction before he turned his attention to Lady Elgida. “My lady, Garit has told me that ye lived at Kinath Castle for many years, so I’m assumin’ ye haven’t forgotten how difficult it is to reach the entrance from the beach below.”

  “I have not forgotten,” Lady Elgida said, her eyes flashing at the suggestion. “You need not fear for me, captain. I shall ride a horse up the hill.”

  “I do wonder,” Captain Pyrsig said, looking now at Garit, “if ye understand the situation in Kantia these days. After King Audemer died, King Dyfrig arrived in Kerun City with a large number of friends who’ve been with him for years while he was Prince of the Northern Border. One of the first things he did was grant large tracts of land to those men.

  “Now, no offense to ye and yer sister and brother-in-law, Lord Durand, but while that kind of arrangement may be fine for Sapaudia and Morenia, it doesn’t sit well with the Kantians. They are a freer people and they don’t like the idea of someone they consider a foreigner ownin’ and fencin’ in a piece of land that used to be open for all men to travel on, or hunt across, or cut down trees. From what I’ve heard on my last two voyages to Kantia, I’d not be at all surprised if there were an uprisin’. Or two. Or three. Ye’ll want to be on yer guard.”

  “Thank you for the warning,” Durand said, “and no offense taken, captain.”

  “Now, Garit and my lady,” Captain Pyrsig went on, “the seven men-at-arms ye brought along all look to be sturdy, well-trained soldiers. But, d’ye think ye brought enough of them? I don’t much like the idea of transportin’ ladies to a place of danger.”

  “No one in Kantia has any cause to wish us harm,” Lady Elgida said. “I want only to see my little grandsons and to assure myself that they are well and happy.”

  “Are young people supposed to be happy?” Captain Pyrsig asked. “When I was a lad, I was told to be quiet and obedient. No one ever said anything about happiness.”

  “I will not discuss this matter with you,” Lady Elgida told him. “I know exactly what I am doing. Come now, Calia, Mairne; it’s time we were abed. Good night to you, Lord Durand. Captain Pyrsig, I thank you for the delightful meal.”

  All of the men stood as the women rose. Anders hastened to open the cabin door. Lady Elgida swept out with her chin in the air and her eyes straight ahead. Calia cast a quick glance at Garit and shook her head as if to express regret over Lady Elgida’s recalcitrance in the face of all good advice. Meanwhile, Mairne paused to smile at Anders and whisper a few words to him.

  “Ye’re no fool,” Captain Pyrsig said to Garit as soon as the women were gone, “so ye must know I spoke only the truth.”

  “I do know.” Garit sat down again to finish the cup of wine that Captain Pyrsig had just poured for him. “My grandmother is so determined to make this trip that I can only conclude she has some unmentioned business to see to, beyond visiting my brothers. She is no fool, either.”

  “Ah.” Captain Pyrsig swallowed a long gulp of wine. “Well, then, I’ve a suggestion for ye.”

  “Which is?” Garit regarded the captain with respectful interest.

  “For a small extra fee,” the captain said, “I’d be willin’ to keep The Kantian Queen anchored offshore for an extra day or two after we reach Kinath. Just in case ye decide after ye make yerselves known there that ye want to leave quickly.”

  At these remarks Durand uttered a sharp bark of laughter that drew the eyes of the other men to him.

  “The captain offers good advice,” he said. “But do bargain with him over the cost of following it.”

  “Thank you, my lord. Pyrsig and I are old acquaintances. Have either of you any reason to think something’s amiss at Kinath?” Garit asked, looking from one man to the other. He was well aware that Durand was attempting to extract information from Pyrsig.

  “As for me, I have only a suspicion,” Durand said, “with no solid proof at all except for my brother-in-law’s dislike for the new guardian of Kinath Castle.”

  “I have no special reason, either” the captain answered, speaking slowly. “It’s just that durin’ my last stop in Kantia, I heard a few interestin’ rumors about the man who has married the lady of Kinath.”

  “What rumors?” Garit pressed him.

  “He’s heartily disliked by the Kantians. ‘Tis a small country and gossip travels fast, as ye know. That’s how I heard the stories. But then, as I said earlier to yer grandmother, the Kantians have no love for these newly made nobles. Now, d’ye not find it interestin’ that even Lord Mallory’s supposed friends at King Dyfrig’s court are suspicious of him?”

  “My brother-in-law is a Kantian noble by birth,” Durand said very carefully. “I’ve heard nothing of this from him.”

  “What stories, Pyrsig?” Garit spoke between clenched teeth, his fingers gripping the silver wine cup that he carried with him wherever he went. His mother had given it to him when he was a boy, in anticipation of the day when he’d leave home to begin his training to become a knight. He treasured that cup and always kept it with him wherever he went.

  “They say,” Captain Pyrsig told them, “that this Lord Mallory fellow has a rough temper, that he killed a stable boy and a groom the first week he was in residence at Kinath. I don’t know why. At the time, I paid no real attention to the details, if they were ever told to me. I had a red-haired lass squirmin’ in my lap that evenin’, and a mug of good ale in one hand, ye see.”

  “I do see.” Garit forced himself to relax his grip on the cup. “Don’t repeat this story to my grandmother. Or to either of the other women.”

  “I won’t,” Captain Pyrsig promised.

  “Nor I,” added Durand.

  “That order includes you, too, Anders,” Garit said, turning to the squire, who was sitting next to him on the bench. “Not a word of this to Mairne.”

  Anders didn’t respond, but Garit’s thoughts had already moved on to a more important issue.

  “Thank you for your very sensible offer, captain. Yes, do keep The Kantian Queen waiting near Kinath for, let us say, two nights and two days. Will that delay you overlong in reaching Kerun? I know you have a cargo to pick up there. Lord Durand, will you be inconvenienced?”

  “Not a bit,” Durand replied affably. “My voyage is taken for pleasure, after all.”

  “I can always say I was blown off course,” Captain Pyrsig replied to Garit’s question with a wink and a piratical grin. “From the clouds I saw gatherin’ in the west late this afternoon, that claim may prove to be simple honesty. Yer a decent man, Garit, and ye’ve always dealt honestly with me. I’ll hold The Kantian Queen as long as ye want, and we can arrange a signal of some kind, so if ye decide to leave Kinath quickly, I’ll know to send a boat ashore to pick ye up and ye won’t have to wait on the beach. I can recall a few times in my own life when it was best to be at sea as fast as possible. Of course, ye understand the waitin’ will cost ye a bit extra above the original fare that we arranged.”

  Durand laughed softly at that speech, leaving Garit to wonder if Durand knew from his own experience what the captain meant about wanting to leave a port as quickly as he could. Garit knew better than to question Durand about his secret activities though, so he directed his next remarks to Captain Pyrsig.

  “Of course,” said Garit. “I do understand.” And he did, and was grateful to the captain who sat near him drinking an excellent wine that he had likely not come by honestly. Whether the captain practiced smuggling or not, Garit was confident he’d do his best to pick up his passengers quickly, if a hasty leavetaking should become necessary. And he knew full well from past experience that Durand would also prove helpful if he were needed.

  Chapter 8

 
; Kinath Castle, Eastern Kantia

  Mallory, originally seneschal of Catherstone Castle and current guardian of Kinath, frowned as he regarded the woman who sprawled naked on his bed. He was undressed, too, so she had no trouble in grabbing his most private organ and beginning to rub and stroke it. He stood without moving, still frowning at her, yet knowing her deft fingers would soon succeed in her purpose. Then he’d be capable of doing his marital duty. Continuing to perform that duty was essential to his plan, which was why he allowed the miserable creature to make so free with his body.

  His wife apparently didn’t perceive his distaste for what she was doing. She wasn’t looking at his face, but at the results of her very determined caresses. Mallory noticed how flushed her cheeks were, while her breathing was short and quick. She moaned softly in erotic anticipation. Mallory’s frown vanished, to be replaced by a smile of grim purpose. He’d make her wait. He always did, just to show her who was her master.

  The widowed Fenella had agreed to marry him in order to protect her two young sons and their considerable inheritance from the rapacious clutches of other nobles.

  So far as those same nobles were concerned Mallory had married Fenella because King Dyfrig wished it. No one but Mallory himself knew of his secret purpose in accepting Dyfrig’s suggestion that he wed this particular woman. Nor, he was certain, did anyone guess how carefully he had manipulated his friendship with the king until the marriage with Fenella was offered to him.