“What would be your next move if you were her?”
Johan’s sandy brows rose a little, but his eyes remained firmly on the Prince’s sharp profile. “Escape,” he answered.
“Precisely.”
“She defies you.”
“She will break.”
“And when she does?”
Trevisian said nothing.
“Her ingenuity has saved her from two prisons. I like her.”
Trevisian looked up sharply at this. “You admire the Prince’s enemy?”
“Radichi admire courage.”
“As do Reluwyn.” Trevisian turned back to the crowds.
“We admire it, even in our enemies. Many would have relented, but she…”
“Remains unbroken,” the Prince cut in abruptly. He pulled his friend away from the view and down some back steps, the guards parting for them to pass. “She is indeed escaping.”
“How do you know?”
“The guards saw her slip out of the harem in the early morning. I have had watches stationed at the Tower Gate ever since.”
At the bottom of the stairs was a street narrower than the one they had been watching. In it stood two rider-less horses and a group of mounted guards behind. Trevisian took the reins from a waiting servant and mounted Dainus who had been pawing the ground impatiently.
“Ride with me, friend, and we will catch our prey.” A smile flashed across Trevisian’s face, breaking his heavy mood. He had seen her, one of the only people below to have their head covered. He had seen her look back at the entrance and a strand of her golden hair had whipped out of the hood. She had been quick to tuck it in, lowering those bright eyes, hurrying between the people. Not quick enough.
Johan was up on his mount quickly, although he did not look nearly as pleased as the Prince. They rode into the current of the main crowd as guards began to shout for people to clear the road. Trevisian silenced them - he didn’t want her to know he was coming.
They pushed forward, Dainus’ wide chest and heavy hooves providing a deterrent for anyone getting in their way. Trevisian had seen her towards the south side, carefully skirting the market sellers. Although far shorter than others in the crowd, her head covering was too noticeable. He caught sight of her ducking between two horses laden with market goods.
Men and women scattered before him, Johan and the guards following as close behind as they could in the packed square. If he could make it past a group of silk traders ahead he would be able to cut her off. He pulled Dainus round, shifting his weight, making it past the traders. The guards and Johan falling in behind him as he swung towards his target. Several people collided with Dainus, not expecting the sudden wall of beast, and Trevisian took his chance, reaching down and snatching at the hood of the one he sought by his foot. Gold hair met sunlight and up flew those blue eyes. Trevisian was on the verge of smiling triumphantly when the head ducked away. He reached to grab her but before he could she shot beneath Dainus, flying between the two sets of legs and out the other side. Trevisian sat up, swinging around and yelling after her, his strangled words coming out with laughter.
“Johan – after her!” But she was too quick, slipping between the guards’ horses before they even realised she was there, preparing to shoot beneath the legs of Johan’s. Trevisian saw the beast’s ears flick about nervously. The whites of its eyes showed and the stamping of its hooves became a clatter, lashing out. Before they could find their mark, Trevisian was off Dainus’ back. He leapt into a run and was within reach of Kiara just as she began to dive beneath the horse’s stomach. He yanked her back, grabbing her arms to pull her away from the hooves.
“You idiot! Do you want to get trampled to death?!” Trevisian shouted in Kiara’s face. He saw her confusion, and instead of recoiling as he thought she would, she became still in his arms.
“My lord, the people.” Johan didn’t have to say anything more. The crowds, realising that their Prince was among them, the ultimate patron, had begun surging towards them.
The spell was broken, and his prisoner pulled away from him.
“When will you see that there is no escape? Come.” Without waiting for an answer, he took hold of her waist and threw her up into the saddle. He didn’t get up behind her but instead led his horse. Guards filed in next to them, escorting them into the palace before the zealous crowds could get near their ruler.
Silence cloaked the returning band. Trevisian did not even need to order his prisoner to dismount when they came to a stop. She walked up ahead of him and entered his chamber when the guards opened the door for her.
She stopped, the ragged peasant’s cloak still about her, and Trevisian came to face her, arms folded across his chest. He studied her silently, unable to read her expression, just as he had been unable to understand what stopped her struggling in the busy courtyard.
“Who gave you this cloak?”
There was no answer. But before he could ask again, Johan entered.
“It was Coscian, my Lord Prince.”
She flinched. “He did not know what I asked of him.”
“That he was providing you with a disguise in order to escape?”
Trevisian raised his hand to give an order.
“He didn’t know!” Kiara fell before him on her knees. He paused, too surprised to carry on. “I told him it was for…” she struggled with the words. “To…to entice the Prince – a game of sorts.”
Trevisian saw Johan’s lips twitch, struggling not to smile at the sexual preferences Kiara implied. After being silent for a few moments, his mind torn, he made a decision.
“Bring Coscian to the harem courtyard, he shall be beaten for his crime.”
“No!” She repeated it over and over, following him to where the Harem Master would be punished. It was the most emotion she had displayed since coming to the palace, and the Prince found the sudden change intriguing.
As he walked out into the harem courtyard he realised that he had never had a servant beaten before, no matter what the crime. Imprisoned, yes - even executed if the crime had warranted it - but never beaten. The bruises that had patterned his body throughout childhood but were long since healed seemed to come alive again. The shadow of their memory bringing back every blow he had received.
The entrance of the palace jailer appeared to cause the bird-chirps and fountain song to fade away. The women too had scattered from the courtyard, covering themselves with shawls, fleeing into the shadows of the pillared edges. Coscian appeared shortly after the jailor. He looked about himself, slightly confused, and at the sight of the jailor full bewilderment took over.
“My Lord Prince,” he said as he came near, spreading his hands out and bowing. Kiara’s eyes darted between the two in fear.
“This prisoner,” Trevisian cast a careless hand in the direction of his fair-haired thief who seemed frozen to the spot. “Was caught escaping the palace through the Tower Gate, wearing the robe you see upon her. A robe given to her by you, Coscian. What do you answer to the charge of conspiracy to help her flee my custody?”
Hundreds of eyes watched from between the pillars. A fine show, thought Trevisian. She would not be so quick to try and escape again after Coscian had seen the lash.
“My Lord Prince, I…” but Coscian had not words. He had no excuse. He seemed startled by the charge and his widened eyes took in the woman who stood silently, pleading for something.
“You shame me, Coscian. Loyalty is my highest requirement and to break your ruler’s loyalty requires punishment according Reluwyn law,” Trevisian continued, “Even in the case of a penitent subject.” Johan was by his side now.
He nodded to the jailor, two guards moved with him, taking hold of Coscian’s arms, turning him. One of the guards stamped a booted foot hard into the back of the Harem Master’s legs causing him to grunt as his knees hit the tiled floor.
Whispers threaded between the pillars surrounding the courtyard. They were quelled with one sweeping look from the Prince. It
may be shocking for men to invade the women’s quarters, but he cared nothing for tradition in this moment.
He watched as the jailor came around to Coscian’s back.
“For this crime you shall be lashed until the blood soaks the clothes upon your back.” The jailor recited the Reluwyn law as he had done a thousand times before.
He pulled a pile of leather straps from his belt, gripping upon the handle, letting the long, plaited lengths fall. Even as Trevisian took it in he felt his blood run cold with the memories.
The guard planted his feet squarely and then with a large swing raised his implement of torture.
“Stop!” cried Kiara. Before anyone knew what was happening she had leapt forward between the punisher and Coscian. The jailor looked to the Prince for direction but it was not his ruler who spoke.
“You want blood? Let it be mine. Coscian knew no part of the crime I made him commit.” Kiara practically spat at the Prince. “If you must lash someone, let it be your whoring thief.”
Trevisian watched her face contort at the words. Still the jailor looked at him, happy to beat either subject as long as his job was done.
“My Lord Prince,” Johan whispered so quietly that no one else could hear. “She could not withstand such a beating thin as she is.”
Already Kiara was turning, kneeling before the jailor, baring her back. She would take a punishment destined for another? That woman didn’t know what a good beating felt like. She didn’t know that it could reduce a grown man to tears, how it would ruin you for days, that cleaning it with salt water was almost worse than the beating itself.
“Show fair judgment and you will not appear weak.”
Trevisian raised a hand to his ear, silencing any more of Johan’s council. He walked forward instead and took Kiara’s by the jaw, forcing her to stand. “For the benefit of that smooth skin of yours I shall spare you and Coscian. If you had ever been beaten in your life you might not have been so eager to take another’s place.” Then, with a suddenness that seemed to frighten the woman, his face changed.
A thought had dropped, quite surprisingly, into his head. If she wished to receive a punishment, it did not necessarily mean that Trevisian had to deal it – after all, Johan had mentioned the atmosphere of the harem.
“Oh dear, my Little One, what a fuss you have caused.” A light-hearted smile marked his dark features. “I shall forgive you, for you are my…” he dragged on the last word, looking about him until he caught eyes with Johan. “Favourite.” The words echoed off the walls of the courtyard. He released her. “I shall be calling for you soon.”
He turned upon his booted heel and left the courtyard. Moments before the door closed, he heard the furore of woman’s voices break out behind him.
Chapter 13
“Infighting in the harem. Your presence accompanied by a mere eight guards in the Tower Gate square. Your absence from the court of appeals. Need I go on?” Garesh remonstrated, pacing before his Prince who lay propped up on multiple silk cushions, crunching on an apple.
“Infighting?” Trevisian shot a look at Johan who lay opposite.
“The competition for your favour grows daily, my lord,” answered Garesh wearily. “Coscian has had to deal with many accusations and some of the maidens are demanding to be sent home.”
“Are they?” Trevisian was enjoying this. His smile had broadened and now he let forth a deep chuckle. “I don’t doubt it.”
Johan did not join his friend.
“They are making a mockery of your forthcoming nuptials. I am told that… that petty criminal of yours had to be physically pulled off another woman. Coscian defended the girl but a blade was involved. It is getting out of hand, to say nothing of your other actions. Do you not realise how detrimental this is to your standing? To my standing?”
Trevisian finished the apple and tossed the core into a golden bowl by his elbow, licking the juice that had trickled down his fingers. He’d take it down to Dainus in the palace stables later. “Your standing?”
“But of course, my Lord Prince,” came the deferential tones, “Your standing is of the utmost importance, but I would be ignoring my duty if I was not to demand the imprisonment of that street-brat. Your…” the High Councillor searched for the right word, “… association with her does you no good.” Garesh was a master of flattery, but his patience was wearing thin and the Prince’s usefulness was reaching its limit. Once the Edict was proclaimed across the land it was merely a matter of time before the Laowyn were put down and the Prince’s popularity waned.
Garesh continued. “Your safety is of the utmost importance.” Was it? Or would Garesh have been happy to hear of some mishap befalling the Prince. “And your presence is always required at the court of appeals, in your absence it was necessary for me to take your place.” Garesh had enjoyed it, the feel of the throne and all that power, but with the Prince so close to choosing a bride and taking up full Kingship there had been a restlessness in the crowd of courtiers.
“Association?”
He hadn’t listened. Garesh glared about the room, striving to maintain control, but that was just it, he didn’t have control.
“Your relationship.”
“Relationship!” Trevisian shot up from the cushions.
For the first time Garesh saw how tall, how broad and how powerful, his protégé had become. He felt a cold and sharp fear pierce through his mind. His plan was being enacted, even Nisa had called on the dark spirits to sway the hearts of the court in his favour, but if things deteriorated faster than the Edict came about, nothing was guaranteed.
“I have no relationship with a petty thief!”
“Then send her to jail.” Garesh rose up, inch for inch, to face his Prince. He must maintain control of him. Total power over the entire Kingdom was within reach and once Garesh had it there would be no obstacles. Emrilion could expand to the east, they could explore across the Western Sea, but until then he had to hold onto the reins of power. He changed to a pleading tone. “She has done more than others who have faced imprisonment for less. Her actions are causing problems and she must be punished. You know the importance of punishment.” The allusion to the Prince’s past was misplaced. He should have calculated better.
“I will determine what happens to the woman.” The Prince’s voice had turned from heated to cold, “You may leave us, Garesh.”
The High Councillor made to speak again.
“I have no further need of you today.” The Prince sat back down upon the cushions, his body retaining its tension and his eyes averted from his Regent when he dismissed him with a hand.
Stunned, Garesh bowed, retreating. Whatever control he had enjoyed over the Prince had just come to an abrupt end.
Kiara had been rubbing a honeyed balm into her cut lip when the Prince summoned her. She could still taste the sweetness in her mouth as her sandal-clad feet pattered a rhythm across the tiled floor. She almost felt normal walking the corridors of the great palace of Emril city now. It was several days since her attempted escape and she had now been at the palace for many weeks.
The last time she had seen the Prince he had acted bizarrely. At least that was what she had thought, until his words, his manipulations, had become clear. She now knew exactly what his ‘favourite’ comment had meant - her lip was testament to it. Before, the women in the harem had warily kept their distance; now they treated her with undisguised contempt. She was the one who stood between them and life as Queen of Emrilion. Today, one of the women had cursed her, threatening to destroy the face that had the Prince so enraptured. She had intended to do it with a knife.
When Kiara and her guard reached the Prince’s chambers, the doors were already open. The Prince had not looked her in the eye when she had arrived, instead walking past her out into the corridor.
“Come with me.”
Kiara’s fair brows had risen but she did as she was bid. Turning upon her heel she set off after him, followed by her handler. They finally stopped
in front of two great doors on the south side of the palace, and entered the room alone.
The sight inside was enough to make Kiara gasp. Either side of her rose huge bookcases filled to the brim with books and papers; in front of her were volumes piled high on tables. The furniture in all different shapes and sizes drawn from a myriad of craftsmen across the empire.
Slung over the piles of books were leather maps and drawings, as if keeping the literary works warm within their blanketed embrace. It seemed as though all the creative minds of the Kingdom had drawn together their thoughts and thrown them out across this room.
Windows stretched from floor to ceiling, framing the southern view of the city. The suns lit up the sandstone dwellings of the city outside, pouring back into the hall and illuminating words across many pages.
“How many books are there?”
The Prince had been toying with a giant globe that stood at hip height its circumference the size of a doorway. In truth, Kiara had temporarily forgotten whom she was with. When her eyes dropped from the heady heights of the bookcases to him, she retracted them quickly, looking to the floor.
“Surprised that a race of barbarians care for literature?” he hissed.
So, he was angry. She studied a pattern in the carpet that resembled an onion. She heard him exhale heavily.
“I will trade a question for a question.”
Her blue eyes caught up to his again as he finished speaking. She had paused within the threshold of the room, caught in awe, but now she walked further in, keeping to the edge, as far from where he stood at the centre as she could be. Was the game he wanted to play that simple? No doubt it was a ruse to find out who she was.
She brushed the spine of a book gingerly, immediately snatching her hand away, frightened the precious object might disintegrate beneath her touch. She turned back to dark eyes that flashed with brief amusement. “Must we answer every question put to us?”
The Edict Page 14
