by Jayla Jasso
“What is it?”
“Just a moment.” Zafira disappeared into the back room, returning with a set of garments made of brown leather. She held them up for Jiandra’s inspection.
“Is that…armor? For me?”
“Yes.”
Jiandra fingered the thick leather. “But these are breeches.”
“Yes. They will afford you more protection and freedom of movement than skirts.”
Jiandra stared at the set of armor. “It’s beautiful.” And I could never wear something like this. As much as I’m dying to.
“I had these boots made in Cobbleton to match.” Zafira held up a pair of leather knee-high boots.
Jiandra gaped. “They must have cost a fortune, Zafira.”
“Try it on,” Yavi murmured, grinning.
Zafira held out the armor to her. “It will make everything you are destined to do easier to accomplish than in skirts and petticoats, my friend. Yes, try it on.”
“All right.” Jiandra rose to accept the gift. “Where can I change clothes?”
Zafira opened a door into a back room, and Jiandra went inside, closing the door behind her. She kicked off her shoes and pulled the long, sleek leather breeches up under her skirt, alarmed by how closely they hugged her thighs and buttocks. They were reinforced with extra padding over the fronts of her legs, and belted with a wide strip of leather high around her waist. Stripping her skirt and everything else off, she donned the jacket, which was obviously not made to wear over a shift or a blouse. It hugged her body like a corset, with a slightly flared hem that hit about mid-hip; it had fitted leather cups for her breasts, held up by straps that crisscrossed over her chest and fastened over her shoulders. The sleeves, shoulders, and midriff were reinforced with the same extra layers of padding as the breeches. Jiandra sat in a chair and pushed her feet into the tall boots, then stood to study herself in the foggy looking-glass that leaned against the wall.
“Oh, my!” She flushed bright red. The straps crisscrossing over her chest formed a frame for the Omaja stone pendant that hung around her neck, and they drew attention to her breasts, which were lifted nicely by the leather cups. She pulled her long braid over her shoulder in front of her and posed, staring at herself.
“Does it fit properly?” Zafira called from the other side of the door.
I don’t think ‘proper’ is the right word here. Jiandra balled up her clothing under her arm and stepped out of the room. She winced a little at the sight of Yavi’s raised eyebrow.
“It’s perfect!” Zafira exclaimed. “You look like a warrior-goddess.”
Yavi leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest, and rubbed his forefinger thoughtfully along his lower lip, trying to hide an appreciative grin. Jiandra wished it was Yajna sitting there looking at her like that.
“How does it feel?” Zafira asked. “Can you move freely in it?”
“The leather is actually very comfortable.” Jiandra smoothed the midriff of the jacket with her hand. “This suit would have come in handy when I was fleeing through the woods, jumping in the river, climbing, and riding all day. Thank you, Zafira. How can I ever repay you?”
“You will repay me by helping Villeleia through this time of trouble. But I would also love a couple of bottles of your delicious Stovy Farm wine, if you don’t mind.”
“A couple? We’ll send a crate of it; it’s the least I can do.” Jiandra grasped Zafira’s hands. “Thank you again, my friend. Unless you have any other advice for us, we should be on our way.”
Zafira held Jiandra’s hand for a moment. “Be strong, Jiandra. The Omaja came to you for a purpose.”
“Yes, I know.”
“And do not be afraid to follow your heart.” Zafira turned to Yavi, who rose to his feet. She took his large hands in her small ones.
“Yavi, you are the lion, and your brother is the panther. You roar while he stalks silently. Your fates are forever entwined; you are not meant to be apart. Be strong, fierce one. You will fight alongside your twin again.”
Yavi inclined his head to her with a taut smile.
Outside, Jiandra stashed her clothing in her saddlebags and swung herself up onto Otto, noting how much easier it was to mount her horse. Breeches! Oh, the freedom!
She and Yavi bid Zafira farewell and set out for Kingston.
#
Yajna sat with his back against the stone wall of the cell, arms resting on his knees, hands covering his face. One thought continually plagued his exhausted mind: his people would not be released. He had failed them, twice. First by bringing this persecution upon them with the assassination attempt, and a second time by turning himself in. If he were free, at least he could help Jiandra fight to save them. But now, unless his crazy brother came to break him out of prison, he was useless to them and to her.
Yavi will come. Even though he’d made him swear not to interfere, Yajna knew Yavi’s reckless nature all too well. He was a master at stealth, an excellent swordsman, and when he set his mind to something, he accomplished it. Yajna had been lucky he’d been able to stop him from killing Jiandra in the cave. He’ll come. I will be free again. I’ll go to Jiandra, and if she’s willing, together we’ll fight to save the refugees.
Jiandra. Watching her defend him and his people before the queen that morning had completely shredded what was left of his heart. She was the most passionate, determined, and desirable woman he’d ever known, bar none. He shouldn’t have kissed her that morning, because it had only made things more difficult. Now he couldn’t get the thought of her full, sweet lips out of his mind. Nor the pained look in her lovely green eyes as the guards were dragging him away. She didn’t want him to die, and that made him want to live even more.
#
With Yavi close behind her, Jiandra galloped toward Kingston, her jaw clenched, her knees tight and tense against the horse’s flanks. Distressing images filled her mind: Sir Barkley and the others in the great hall that morning screaming for the removal of the Nandals; Solange going right along with their demands; Solange coldly ordering Yajna’s execution; the guards hauling him away while Jiandra stood by and did nothing.
She felt betrayed by Solange. True, the young queen had not promised to release the Nandals when the assassin was found, but Jiandra had fully expected that to be the end result. She thought of Yajna sitting alone in that dark dungeon after enduring the hatred and abuse of the “good” citizens of Villeleia. Don’t be afraid to follow your heart, Zafira had said. Her heart was leading her straight to Yajna, Gods help her, and she was ready to do violence against anyone who stood in her way.
They hid their horses in a copse of trees outside the castle wall and pulled their hoods low over their heads. He slung Yajna’s bow and quiver over her back, securing it, and then took her hand and pulled her along with him through the shadows to the foot of the high wall. He threw a grappling hook into the air, and pulled it tight after it caught. He lifted her onto his back, placed her arms tightly around his neck, and wrapped her booted legs around his waist. Then he quickly scaled the wall, muscles moving effortlessly as if she were no burden at all. He swung himself with her on his back over the top and scurried along the wall to a rooftop, leaping to land on it in a crouch. Jiandra released the breath she’d been holding only long enough to suck in another one as he slithered his way to the edge of the roof to peer over the castle’s inner courtyard wall, scanning for guards.
Jiandra craned to see over his shoulder, following his line of sight. There was a guard high above on a turret, wielding a crossbow. There was another guard on the ground, walking back and forth on the lawn. Yavi waited patiently until both guards were facing the opposite direction and then dropped to the soft earth, his feet landing without a sound. He slunk along the shadows of the interior wall until he could make a dash through some trees and landscaping toward the shadows of the foundation wall of the castle, then helped her slide to her feet. He took her hand, and they flattened themselves against the cold stone
surface.
They crept along the wall until they came to a corner, carefully peering around to inspect. A guard on horseback was there outside the dungeon’s low, grate-covered windows. Yavi scanned the area behind, above, and all around. He watched the guard for several minutes, until the man eventually walked the horse very slowly in the opposite direction.
“Mahitha, give me Yajna’s bow.” He reached into his pouch and withdrew a flint box.
Jiandra removed the weapon from over her head and handed it to him. He took an arrow from the quiver on her back, tied a small piece of cloth to the shaft near the head, then struck the flint to set the cloth on fire. Once it blazed fully, he quickly aimed and shot the arrow onto the thatched roof of the guard post high above the guard they’d been watching. A few harrowing seconds passed, and then the roof lit up in flames. The sleepy guard on horseback took a moment to notice it, but as soon as he did, he called out to whoever was supposed to be manning the post. There was no response. The guard dismounted quickly and disappeared around the far corner of the castle wall. In a moment, some guards ran along the top of the wall toward the burning guard post roof. Yavi helped Jiandra replace the bow on her back and pulled her with him through the shadows farther along the base of the castle toward the dungeon windows.
They arrived at the first tiny window. Yavi made a soft sound like a cricket or locust. No response. They continued to the next window. Yavi made the sound. No response. At the third window, the sound came back out, and Jiandra’s heart leapt. Yavi dropped a lockpick through the window.
They turned their backs to the wall and waited breathlessly, crouched in the shadows, watching the commotion above as the guards tried to put the fire out.
Yavi whispered something into the opening in Nandalan, and received a whispered response. He turned to Jiandra.
“He’s ready. Let’s go.”
TWENTY-ONE
Two hooded figures, one tall and muscular, the other slender and feminine, raced along the shadows at the base of the castle, slipped around a corner, and descended the steps down to the heavy wooden dungeon doors. Before the guard at the foot of the steps had a chance to react, Yavi struck a blow on the side of his neck with the hilt of a scimitar, and the guard slumped to the ground. Yavi crouched, fished for the guard’s keys, and unlocked the door. Jiandra drew her dagger and kept her eyes glued to the steps behind them while he swung the door open slowly. Inside, they followed another set of stairs down into damp, musty darkness. At the end of the hall, a servant carrying a pail approached, head down. Yavi pulled Jiandra with him into a dark recessed doorway, and the servant passed them by.
Around the next corner, they were not so lucky. A guard was seated at a desk in front of the door blocking the way into the prison cell area, slumped forward in his chair, dozing. There was nothing to do but approach him, and just as Yavi raised the hilt of his scimitar to strike, the man awoke.
“Wha—?”
Yavi dealt him a blow to the head, and he fell to the side of the desk, unconscious. Yavi took the man’s keys, unlocked and carefully swung open the door to the cell block. The unpleasant aroma of mildew, sweat, and urine wafted over them as they entered, and Jiandra cringed at the thought of Yajna being trapped down here. No guards were in sight, so they pulled their hoods low over their faces and hurried along the long row of bars until they came to Yajna’s cell. Yajna swung open his door when he saw them and stepped out, smiling. It pained her to see his handsome face purpled with bruises and streaked with dry, crusted blood, but before she could do or say anything, a guard’s voice sounded at the entrance.
“Help, help! We have invaders!”
“Give Yajna his bow,” Yavi ordered Jiandra, then ran to silence the shouting guard.
Yajna helped her remove the bow and arrows. He slung them over his back with a quick, practiced movement, surveying her leather attire with an appreciative grin. “What are you wearing?”
“Hold still.” She reached up and touched his face, focusing Healing.
When she was done, he swept her into his powerful arms, lifting her in his embrace, and she planted three quick, eager kisses on his angular jaw. He released her, then grabbed her hand and pulled her with him toward the reception desk where Yavi was waiting. The three of them rushed along the dark hallway toward the exit.
Footsteps approached from the other end of the hall, and they heard voices of alarm. Jiandra readied her dagger, and the twins drew their weapons.
Two guards appeared with swords drawn. “You there! Halt!”
Yajna shot an arrow that struck the leg of one guard, and he staggered and fell. Yavi leapt forward and knocked the other guard’s sword out of his hand with a scimitar, then hit him on the back of the head with the hilt so that he passed out. Yajna grabbed Jiandra’s hand, and they jumped over the fallen guards, following Yavi up the stairs. They pushed the dungeon door open and were greeted by three more guards, who lunged forward in attack.
Yajna shot two arrows in succession, crippling two of the guards while Yavi grappled with the other, performing a headlock move on him until he slumped to the ground. They hurried out of the stairwell and around the wall, stealing into the shadows along the base of the castle wall. A couple hundred more feet and they would be hidden amongst the shrubbery, and could make it safely to the outer wall.
“Stop.” A female voice halted them. Solange stepped out of the shadows and pushed back the hood of her cloak, holding her invisibility rune in her hand.
Jiandra’s heart leapt painfully into her throat. “Solange, what are you doing out here?”
“Looking for you. After the way you defended this fellow in my court, I suspected you would try something like this.”
“I am sorry for going against your orders, Solange. But I cannot allow you to execute this man. Especially if it will not mean the salvation of the Nandal refugees.”
Solange studied her. “Why do you insist on defending the Nandals, Jiandra?”
“Go to the stockades for yourself and see how they are being treated! I know that if you personally witnessed the suffering brought about by your decision to imprison them, you could not bear it any more than I. But I cannot—will not—allow you to execute this man.”
“I didn’t know he had a twin brother. You didn’t share that information with the assembly.”
“His brother was not involved in the assassination attempt,” Jiandra lied.
“Why are you protecting them?”
Jiandra glanced back at Yajna, who stood waiting with his brother. “These men aren’t evil. They only want to help their nation. Today Yajna was ready to sacrifice his life to free his people. I believe that he is a good man.”
“Are you in love with him?”
Jiandra hesitated, embarrassed. “I ah…”
Solange waited.
Jiandra looked away, unable to answer.
Solange stepped aside. “All right. Go.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Jiandra whispered.
“They must leave Villeleia at once, Jiandra.”
“I understand.”
They disappeared into the darkness, leaving Solange standing there watching.
#
They traveled by moonlight, heading north through the tall cedars of Silverthorne Wood. Yajna rode Otto with Jiandra behind him, clinging to his waist, while Yavi rode his own horse. They galloped a few miles before stopping in a secluded area near a stream to water the horses.
Yajna pulled her with him behind a large tree trunk for privacy. Her heart pounded with her eagerness to be held in his arms again.
He placed his hands around her waist, bent his head so that his mouth hovered near hers. “You risked your life and your friendship with your queen to free me.”
Jiandra stared up into his silvery eyes, at the chiseled side of his face visible in the moonlight filtering through the trees, not knowing what to say.
He caressed her cheek, then leaned forward to kiss her. His mouth covered hers,
his tongue stroked over her lips, pressing past her teeth; he kissed her deeply, urgently. Jiandra strained up against him, clinging to his corded neck. After a long, breathless moment, he ended the kiss and trailed his lips over her jaw, down into the warm, silky curve of her neck, pulling her body closer to his. His hands slid lower, over her buttocks in the sleek leather.
“You’re so beautiful, Jiandra,” he whispered against her neck. “So lovely.”
Jiandra shivered at the feel of his hot mouth on her sensitive skin. “Yajna…”
He raised his head. “Why didn’t you answer your queen’s question?”
“Ah…about…being in love with you?”
He caressed her cheek, nuzzling her ear, kissing the sensitive area behind it. “Yes,” he whispered. “Are you?”
“No.”
“No?” He chuckled, kissing her lower lip.
She tried to distract him. “Yajna, you and Yavi have to get out of Villeleia before they try to capture you again. Tonight.”
“I know.” He pressed her closer, caressing her back.
“Take Otto to speed your journey.”
Yajna shook his head. “No. You need him to get home.”
“My farm is only about seven miles from here. I can walk.”
“Send you off walking alone in the dark? I cannot do that.”
“Yajna, me walking seven miles in the dark is nothing compared to you escaping Villeleia with your life. If you try to ride with Yavi, his horse will weary quickly. It will slow you down.”
“Otto is your beloved horse—how can I take him from you?”
She touched his jaw. “I want you to escape, and live. Otto loves you. Take him and go now, please. I can get another horse. I will be fine walking home. I have the stone to protect me.”
