by Keri Arthur
New Divona, born after much of the old city had ended up at the bottom of the newly created bay, was perched high on the cliff’s edge and was not only the home of the king, but where the high council—which consisted of the ruling lords and ladies of the twelve lands that made up the whole that was Cannamore—met. The rest of the city was divided into distinct districts that swept down the hill toward the Merrigold River. The first district was the military zone, the second belonged to the merchants, trades, and the danseuse, and the final to the lower classes—servants and the like. Eisha’s golden temples weren’t situated within the city, but rather on the largest of the islands that had broken away from the mainland. In the best of my dreams, I found myself back there, taking my place amongst the red-clad priests and priestesses, welcoming initiates and teaching them the pleasures of life.
But it was a dream I would never claim in reality. I might not know what path the god of war intended for me, but I doubted it involved such happiness or peace. Not when I bore his mark.
As the afternoon sunshine faded and the chill of early evening crept into the air, a door slammed and footsteps echoed through the gathering shadows, drawing ever nearer.
“It seems we have visitors,” the highlander noted.
“It could be a food delivery.”
“That’s not the steps of our keepers, but rather someone more refined.”
Meaning the king, perhaps. Even if Vin had recovered enough to come here, he’d have considered the smell and dour conditions an assault on his sensibilities.
As the steps grew closer, I resisted the instinctive urge to straighten and simply kept my arms locked around my knees. Electronic beeps ran across the silence as someone accessed the lock pad, and then the door slid to one side and the king stepped into the cell.
Hate rose in a wave so thick and fierce that it was all I could do to stop myself from rising up and striking the bastard. My muscles quivered with energy, but I tightened my grip on my knees and kept still. It wasn’t as if I’d get anywhere near him.
His gaze swept from the highlander to me and a cold smile touched his lips. “I do hope you’ve been suitably accommodating to our guest, Nyx. I’d hate for him to return home with tales of our inhospitality.”
I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t about to waste precious words on the man.
“Her hospitality is not in question,” the highlander growled. “Yours, dear Rainer, shall be discussed long in the war rooms of my people.”
I glanced sharply at him. The only people who dared use the king’s first name were the rulers of the other eleven territories—but how could he be a ruler and yet be in here? Such an action could very well lead to unrest and with raiders testing our borders, that was surely the last thing my father would want.
“Come now, Donal, you can hardly waltz into Divona, seduce the wife of a high-ranking lord, subsequently beat said lord to a pulp when he confronts you on the matter, and expect to walk away without penalty.”
“I was not the initiator of that seduction.” Only the slightest edge in the highlander’s voice gave away the anger I sensed in him. “And perhaps if Lord Brannon tried harder to satisfy his lady, she would not seek it elsewhere.”
Cool amusement briefly flirted with the king’s lips but, as ever, failed to touch his eyes. “Be that as it may, you and your brother maimed Lord Brannon and killed seven of his men. That is not something I can simply brush away.”
Donal didn’t reply, but contempt joined the anger.
“Anyway,” the king continued. “I have finally reached an agreement that both your father and Lord Brannon can live with. In return for your brother’s freedom, you shall do six months service at the Mauvaisse border.”
“My father would not agree to such a thing,” Donal replied evenly. “He would not risk the life of one son to save the other.”
“He would if the only other choice was the loss of both.”
“Are you insane?” I ground out. “Why would you even contemplate such a—”
“Quiet,” the king said, without even bothering to look at me.
Fury rose, but it was impotent in the face of his order. All I could do was clench my fingers and dream of a day when it would not be so.
He half turned and clicked his fingers. The man who immediately stepped into the cell was tall and thin and wore the blue uniform of a communicator—a rare group of people who had the ability to speak mind to mind, and who were used in every court when instant communication was required. The silver circlet around his head mechanically enhanced the range of his ability, but it came at the cost of slowly frying his brain. Communicators rarely lived past the age of forty, but both they and their families were so well compensated that few ever walked away from the position.
“Contact Lord O’Raen’s communicator, Huron.”
The O’Raens held the bleak lands to the east of the Black Water Gateway, which included much of the Black Mountains themselves. They were also one of the biggest and most powerful tribes in the entire Westal region, so it was a dangerous step to be alienating them in this way.
The communicator closed his eyes and, after a moment, the circlet began to shine.
“Alja, I am in the company of your younger son,” my father said. “Please proceed.”
The circlet shone brighter, its cool blue light banishing the shadows as the communicator dutifully—but silently—relayed the message.
After a few seconds, the reply came—one the communicator gave voice to.
“I have reluctantly agreed to the king’s terms,” he said, in a tone not dissimilar to Donal’s, “and have given my word that you will honor them. The situation as it now stands is completely unacceptable. The wind continues to agree that good shall come of this. Just survive, Donal, no matter what.”
Survive no matter what. It was an odd thing to say. The Skaran might be hazing our border forces, but they’d yet to mount a full attack and—from the snippets I’d gleaned from the various emissaries—there was no sign of a military buildup to suggest that was their immediate plan.
As the circlet’s power died and the communicator opened his eyes, the king looked at Donal and said, “Do you agree to the terms set?”
“My father has given his word. I have no other choice but to honor it.” The light in Donal’s eyes was hard—cold—and yet oddly satisfied. It made me suspect this outcome was not unexpected. That it was, perhaps, even desired. “I wish to see my brother before I am sent to Mauvaisse, however.”
“That can be arranged.”
“And I wish to take the woman with me to the border.”
Surprise and instant denial leapt to my lips, but I clamped down on both and met Donal’s gaze. He raised an eyebrow, challenging me.
The time of choosing had come.
The king glanced my way, amusement once more evident. “What say you to that, daughter?”
“I say the gods have taken whatever sanity either of you might have had.”
“A simple yes or no, Nyx.”
I continued to stare at Donal, weighing the king’s stated desire to be rid of me against the unknown that was the highlander. When it came down to it, it wasn't a really hard decision.
“No,” I said.
The king laughed and clapped Donal on the shoulder. “So be it then. She is yours.”
I couldn’t help the somewhat bitter smile that briefly touched my lips. Sometimes the king was all too predictable.
His gaze returned to mine. “You will obey Donal as you have obeyed me. Once the two of you are beyond the walls of this city, I cede my rights and my power to his will and his word.”
As he spoke, light flared across the bracelets, a flash of blue that briefly lit the shadowed confines of the cell. Donal’s gaze narrowed, but he didn't say anything.
“The relief squad leaves for Karva Fortress on the morn. You’ll both join them.” The king paused, his gaze sweeping Donal somewhat critically. “But not before we clean you up, I think. You, hi
ghlander, reek.”
Donal snorted—a sound of contempt if ever I’d heard one. “Sorry to offend your sensibilities, Rainer, but bathing facilities were a little hard to come by in this cesspit.”
“Ruffians are not generally given such comforts.” He stepped to one side of the door. “Morton, Banks, escort the two of them to the princess’s quarters. If the highlander makes any attempt to escape, shoot him.”
“And my brother?” Donal said. “When do I get to see him?”
“Before you both depart tomorrow.”
Donal nodded. “I would ask one more thing, Rainer.”
“You push your luck, highlander.”
Another of those uncaring smiles touched Donal’s lips. “A blanket for the princess. It is unseemly for royalty to be paraded naked through the streets.”
The king raised an eyebrow and looked at me. I returned his gaze evenly. We both knew what the answer to Donal’s request would be, so I had no idea why he was even pretending to consider it.
After a few seconds, amusement twitched at his lips and he said, “No.”
“Well, then.” Donal began unlashing the waist bindings on his kilt. For one horrible moment, I thought he was going to offer me the wretched thing, but he simply dropped it to the straw and added, “What is good for one is good for the other.”
The king laughed. “This is one procession that is certainly going to attract attention.”
He stepped back and waved Donal forward. The highlander glanced at me. “Are you coming willingly, or shall I throw you over my shoulder?”
“Try it,” I growled, “and my foot will bury itself in your balls.”
Amusement creased the corners of his blue eyes. “I do so like a challenge, Princess. Perhaps we should see who is faster implementing their threat.”
I scrambled to my feet. Walking naked through the streets of Divona would be bad enough, but at least I wasn’t alone in that—and he, with his size and muscular if filthy body, would draw far more attention than me. But that would certainly change if I were thrown over his shoulder like so much naked rubbish.
The court considered me enough of a joke. I didn’t need to add anything else to it.
I followed him out into the corridor, the soft sounds of my footfalls lost not only to the noise being made by the king and his entourage but also the fury that continued to beat through the cold stone under my feet. I wondered if the king felt it. Wondered if he even cared.
The front guard paused to code open the final door and then led us out into the old tower’s courtyard. This place had once housed the soldiers whose job it was to defend a one-mile portion of the wall. That wall—like much of the eastern side of the tower—was long gone, but the halls, kitchen, and the western portion of the barracks still remained, though the latter was only used when prisoners were being housed within the tower. The rest of the time the place belonged to spiders, vermin, and seabirds.
Three short-range carriages were waiting in the courtyard. Unlike many other passenger and haulage vehicles—which used a form of electromagnetic repulsion technology to move once beyond city limits—these were powered by the sun. All three bore the sword and cat crest of the Bel-Hannon kings, but one was far more ornate. The king was not one to forgo his comforts, even if only for the few minutes it would have taken to get from the castle to here.
Our guard led us away from the vehicles and toward the tower’s exit on the far side of the courtyard. Though the gate was open, there was little evidence of movement or noise coming from the roadway beyond. Which wasn’t surprising given this tower—positioned as it was on a crumbling finger of rock that jutted out into violent seas—was no longer used defensively. Newer towers had been built on more stable ground along the coastline, forming a new defense system that combined neatly with the towers that already lined the length of the Merrigold River. These were all manned twenty-four seven even though it had been a long time since our borders had been seriously tested. Not since the Mauvaissens had been annexed into Cannamore, in fact.
A gentle breeze stirred around me, thick with the raw saltiness of the sea. I drew it in deeply, trying to erase the scent of fouled straw and unwashed man from my nostrils. It didn’t help with the latter, but mainly because Donal walked so close that our arms occasionally brushed.
I wondered if it was a deliberate reminder that I now belonged to him. Wondered if sex on order was to be part of the price of freedom.
My lips twisted. After twelve years of being so used, I should be well resigned to such a fate. But I wasn’t, and never would be. My time in the temple might have been years ago now, but it had given me not only Eisha’s gift of sexual empowerment but also the belief in freedom of choice. That every man and every woman had the right to desire and to love whomsoever they pleased, however they pleased, as long as it was consensual.
It was that last part that had run like poison through my veins in the many long nights I’d faced since the bracelets had been placed on me.
One day, I would find a way out of them.
One day, I would have my revenge.
On the king, on my brother, and on all the men and women who had so ill-used me over the years.
Of course, the latter was hardly practical given I’d be all but declaring war on ten of the twelve ruling families, but it was nevertheless a dream that had sustained me through the worst of my nights.
Behind us, the carriages powered up, the soft hum of their engines almost lost in the angrier cry of the crashing waves.
“You’re seriously going through with this madness?” the king said. “And all for the sake of one worthless woman.”
“It is not my madness.” Donal neither stopped nor glanced back at the king. “And that woman is a princess and should be treated as such.”
My gaze shot toward his, but all I saw was dry amusement. He was baiting the king; the words themselves meant little.
“Care to wager that you won’t feel the same after a few weeks spent in her company?” the king said. “She’s cursed, Donal, and no good will ever come of her or from her.”
“I am not the one who brings ill-fortune to Cannamore,” I said. “Your lies—”
“I did not ask for your opinion, Nyx,” he cut in, “so be silent.”
I clenched my fists, but the fury that burned within remained impotent. Silent.
Donal stopped and turned around. I had no choice but to do the same, given our guards also stopped.
“What lies does she speak of, Rainer?”
The king’s smile was as cool as his expression. “Did you not hear me? Her tongue is as poisonous as her mind, but I’m more than willing to take her off your hands if you’ve changed your mind—”
“Oh, you can be sure I’ve not changed my mind.” About anything. He didn’t say that last bit out loud, but the words seemed to hover in the air regardless, holding a deep and very dark threat.
“Good.” The king’s golden gaze was cold when it came to mine. “But you should be aware that she’s no longer welcome here. If you ever return to Divona, she’s not to accompany you.”
“Or what?” Donal replied contemptuously. “You'll lock us up with the rats again?”
My father merely smiled. “You and she had best make use of a guard’s carriage. I imagine your father would not appreciate you walking through the streets like a common trull advertising his wares.”
“And here I was thinking the streets of mighty Divona were above such an age-old profession.”
“Indeed we are, in that trulling is as regulated and as taxed as the more respected danseuse. And the company of either, I might suggest, would have been a better choice than the wife of a high court lord.”
Donal didn’t reply, but I nevertheless felt the quick stab of his anger. Sensitivity to emotions wasn’t something I’d been overly prone to in recent years—probably because shutting that part of me down had been a necessary part of survival—but it was a gift that often came with being Sifft.
The guard behind me poked me in the back with the point of his sword. I clenched my fists and half swung around, but it was another impotent gesture, and we both knew it. He laughed and prodded me again, this time with enough force that it pierced my skin.
“Your day will come,” I murmured, as blood began to dribble. “Trust me on that, soldier.”
“Good,” he replied, his tone mocking. “Because your reputation certainly precedes you, Princess.”
I didn’t reply. What was the point? This man, like most of those who were either a part of the royal court or whose job it was to support and protect them, only knew what the king wanted known. They didn’t know the real me; to be honest, I wasn’t even sure that I knew the real me anymore. Certainly Mom wouldn’t have recognized me if she’d walked through the gates right now. The bright days of my childhood were long gone, buried under layers of not only cold hatred but also the determination to survive no matter what the abuse. I rather suspected those layers had taken something very important from me.
As Donal neared the carriage, one of the guards stepped forward and opened the door. The highlander nodded but didn’t immediately enter. Instead, he stood to one side and offered me his hand. I hesitated, and then placed my fingers on his and tried to ignore the warm, grimy roughness of his palm as I stepped into the confines of the carriage. It held none of the plush comforts of the one the king—or, indeed, any of the other court members—used on a daily basis. The seats on either side of the cabin were plain wood and there was no padding to cushion the ride.
I sat down on the side facing the driver’s cabin, my back stiff and my arms and legs crossed. Donal sat opposite. He didn’t say anything. He simply watched me.
