“She said some things about father,” he said. On one hand, he wanted to hear what his friend thought. On the other, he found that, more and more in the short time they’d been together, he wanted to keep what was between him and his wife to just the two of them, a secret that only they were in on.
Janara was studying him. “I know how you respect your father,” she finally said. “But give some thought to what happened. Did she say these things cruelly, or did she present concerns to you that bothered you? Because I know Shannen has it in her to be cruel, but only when she is pushed to it. Generally, your wife seems to be a very level-headed human. Who even knew any existed?” she asked with a small chuckle. She turned serious again. “If she did present actual concerns to you, and you left, you likely just made things worse between you. There is nothing worse than trusting someone enough to share a worry, and them ignoring it.”
“She thinks that she and the other three women were chosen as my options for a wife because if her people got too out of control, they could be killed as a shocking example of what we are willing to do. A threat,” he said.
Janara tilted her head. “Of course she was.”
Daarik shook his head.
“Daarik, you are a soldier. You fight what is in front of you. And you’re good at it. Ruling is something else. Did you really not see this for what it is?”
“I was told it was to bind our people and hers in peace,” he said quietly.
“And it was. With a little added incentive for her people to behave,” she said gently. “She is a smart woman. Cunning. And fairly honest, if she said that to you after likely realizing that you didn’t see it for what it is.”
“I won’t allow her to be hurt,” he said, looking at the fire. “No matter what her people do.”
“Likely, it will never come to that. But I would expect nothing less of you.”
“I cannot do this. I’m expected to become like that once my father’s gone? Conniving, plotting—”
“You’ll be the ruler you decide to be,” Janara said. “Your father has learned all he’s learned of leadership from watching how the humans operate. He was but a child when we left our home. We’ve all heard about the fair and good rulers of old, but very, very few of us remember what it truly looked like to live that way. One more thing we’ve lost,” she said. “When the time comes, you will rule in your own way.”
He groaned and looked up at the vast sky with its stunning array of stars. He wondered, as he often did, if, once upon a time, the humans had been able to see the planet the Maarlai had called home up there. “She’s right. I’m naive. And I’ve ruined any progress we were making together.”
“Keep working on it,” Janara said. “It’s all you can do. Your father is a good man. Had you asked him outright if this was part of his plan in marrying you to her, he would have told you so, and we both know that Jarvik probably had a lot to do with it as well. But you are plain in your intentions toward people, and you expect them to be the same, so it didn’t cross your mind.”
“I’m a fool.”
“No. You’re the kind of Maarlai who will make a great and honorable leader someday. One I would be proud to call my king. Remember this, so that when it’s your turn to lead, you will remember what it was like to be on the other side.”
“When I am king, you and my wife will likely be the only advisors I’d ever need,” he said, and Janara smiled. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Now go back and start making it up to that harridan you married,” she said with a grin.
“I’m telling her you called her that,” he said as he stood up.
“Believe me, she’d take it as a compliment. As she should,” she said. He gave her a small bow, then headed back toward the castle.
He looked at it, looming in the distance with his wife likely sleeping inside. He was more nervous at the prospect of facing her now, now that he’d clearly broken some of the trust they’d managed, than he’d ever been facing battle. He kept walking, rehearsing what he’d say to her. Would he wake her up? She was a pretty light sleeper, he knew. And thinking of his wife sleeping made him think of the thin garments she wore to sleep, gauzy fabric that traced her every curve and whispered around her legs when she walked. He shook his head. He apparently had a long way to go before she’d trust him enough to even consider letting him do what he wanted.
Yet this same woman had let random guards and stable boys have their way with her, he thought with some irritation and more than a little jealousy. And then he pushed it aside, because he knew from talking to her that it had meant nothing other than her own personal victory over her uncle. What was between them frightened her nearly as much as it unsettled him. And he understood as well that the fact that she didn’t just let him have his way with her was her own way of saying that what they had actually meant something.
And he’d made a mess of it. Of anyone’s opinion and counsel, he trusted Janara’s most. And, clearly, he needed to trust his wife more.
He cursed out loud in Maarlai, and he heard a feminine laugh to his right. He suppressed a heavy sigh as the female came out of the shadows between two huts. Iriel. One of the few of his past relationships that he truly regretted.
“The human isn’t keeping you warm, my prince?” she asked, moving toward him, swaying her hips in the way that had once attracted his hormone and adrenaline-addled mind. “Stop in for a tumble for old times’ sake, and I’ll remind you what a real female feels like.”
“Not interested,” he said, and kept walking.
“Is it true? You live in celibacy since the ceremony?” She laughed and caught up to him. She put a possessive hand on his arm, and he stopped. “Come on,” she murmured, running her hand over his bicep, down his chest, his stomach. “A warrior has needs, after all. Needs she cannot satisfy,” she purred.
He took her hand, and she smiled widely. The smile fell from her face immediately when he dropped her hand.
“Not interested,” he repeated.
“I—”
“Fighting at the border!” he heard one of his men bellow, and then, without another thought to Iriel, he ran toward the sound. One of his men tossed a sword his way as he approached, and then he was in the thick of it as a band of human mercenaries began attacking his warriors at the outer gates. Many more of them than they’d dealt with in a good long time. He ordered more warriors to the front, and both male and female Maarlai took up the call, grabbing swords, axes, and bows and rushing to the front.
This, he could do. It was likely the only thing he could do well, but he knew that on the battlefield, at least he would make no foolish decisions.
Chapter Nine
Shannen woke up to find that she was alone, just as she’d been when she’d finally fallen asleep. She rolled onto her back and stared at the dark wood plank ceiling. She had been foolish to confide her worries to Daarik. It would have been best to keep on as she had been.
Then again, now she had a better idea of where she stood with the warrior she’d married. She sat up and her gaze landed on the sealed letter she had written to her uncle. Elrek would be expecting that, and she should have delivered it the previous night. Too much time had been spent fantasizing and wondering over things that weren’t really there, things her lonely, lustful mind wanted to see. She was smarter than that.
She knew better.
She tossed the blankets off of her and swung her legs out of bed. The stone floor was warm beneath her bare feet as she padded to the washroom to clean up and dress. As she did, she kept noticing the band of silver on her finger. Daarik always wore his as well, and she had wanted to believe that maybe they had the beginnings of a true partnership. Not love; she would be a fool to expect that. Royal marriages were never about love. Maybe friendship. Something more than the lust that burned when he looked at her, because lust eventually faded, and even at its strongest, wasn’t enough to tie a man to anyone. As her mother had learned, many, many years ago.
Shan
nen shook her head. She had not thought about her mother in a long time. It was not the time to start doing so now.
She braided her hair and pinned it up and put her scarf on. She glanced at herself in the small looking-glass over the wash basin and took a deep breath. Hopefully she could deliver the letter to King Elrek quickly, grab something from the kitchen, then pick up her next batch of books from Janara without having to deal with too much nonsense from the Maarlai.
It was not that she feared them. She truly had no reason to. If it ever came to it, she knew very well that she could defend herself. Women in the kingdom of Lyon knew better than to leave their defense to anyone else. At first, she had tried to be agreeable, but it had become more clear in her time with the Maarlai that some wanted to be the exact opposite of agreeable. After having a few too many of the males mutter suggestions about what they’d do if she didn’t belong to Daarik (a concept she hated with a passion) she’d taken to wearing a small dagger strapped to her thigh, under her dress.
She knew though, that the instant she used it, they would just have another reason to hate her, self-defense or not.
She shook her head. It was not worth moping over. She was out of her uncle’s home, at the very least. Away from the prying eyes of those in his court. Away from both the smug ostentatiousness and the overzealous love of gossip that ran rampant in the House of Lyon. It was something.
Shannen picked the letter up from the desk, as well as a book she needed to return to Janara before she would be able to take any more out. She left her suite and made her way through the corridors toward the King’s study. He did not sleep in the palace; that had clearly been set up to be the household for Daarik and his wife; Elrek still lived in a hut that was just like the ones the rest of his people lived in. It was well guarded, of course, but he preferred living among his friends and family. She suspected that Daarik would have preferred that as well, but it seemed to be one of the many concessions he’d made to his father.
He did not live in the palace, but he spent many of his daylight hours there, and Shannen knew that she’d find him in his study. His ever-present bodyguard, Baerne, stood outside the door.
“Is the King available now?” Shannen asked him. Unlike many of them, Baerne was polite to her. He was a taller, bulkier warrior even than her husband was. A few years older as well. She wondered if perhaps they were related somehow, because the resemblance between Daarik, Baerne, and Elrek was uncanny.
“He is. Wait here one moment,” Baerne said in his rumbling voice. She nodded, and he went inside the study and closed the door behind himself. A few moments later, he opened it again and gestured her inside. She walked toward the large table where Elrek sat, watching her expectantly. Baerne walked a step or two behind her.
She nearly rolled her eyes. What? Did they really think she would try something on the King?
“Good morning, your Majesty,” Shannen said, dropping into the barest shadow of what could be considered a curtsy.
“Good morning, Shannen. How do you fare this morning?”
Her mind went to her discussion with Daarik. She wondered if he had mentioned it to his father.
“Very well, thank you. And you?”
“Could be better. There has been another skirmish at our northern border. They attacked in the night and my warriors are still fighting back the remnants. This was the most organized and well-manned attempt they have made in a while.”
She held up the parchment she’d prepared for him. “I have written, as you requested. I must state again that I am not sure how much it will sway him.”
Elrek held his hand out, and she stepped forward and handed him the letter. Just as she set it into his hand, she heard the doors open and turned to see Jarvik enter the study. He looked down his nose at her and made his way to his usual seat near Elrek. He sat down and arranged his parchment and pens, as if he was making every effort to pretend she was not there.
“I thank you for your assistance in this matter,” Elrek said. “And for being so practical and cool-headed in your time here. There has been little my people could complain about regarding your demeanor. And those who have complained, upon inspection, earned whatever rebuke you gave them.”
She gave a small nod.
“Will that be all, King Elrek?” she asked.
He paused for a moment, seeming as if there was more he wanted to say, and then he nodded. “Thank you,” he repeated. Jarvik cleared his throat irritably.
She nodded, gave another small curtsy, and then turned back to the door. Baerne followed her again and opened the door so she could pass through. She turned to Baerne. “Is my husband involved in the battle taking place now?”
“He is,” he said. “From what I hear, he was out for a walk when the battle started, and he went immediately to join it.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“Lady Shannen?” Baerne said, and she turned back to him.
“Yes?”
“Do not let the fools among our people harden you toward us. I could see when you arrived here that you hold no hate in your heart for the Maarlai, even with the long history between our two peoples. Don’t let the actions and words of a few idiots who are incapable of acting like mature Maarlai sour you.”
Shannen briefly met his eyes, and then looked away. “I will keep that in mind.”
“I think you should have a guard accompanying you,” Baerne said, and she looked sharply up at him again.
“Why? To keep an eye on me? Ensure I don’t attempt treason?”
He gave her a deadpan look. “It is something your husband should have thought of already. Not because anyone fears you’ll betray us. You seem like the type who would enjoy us seeing the knife headed for our heart, rather than the type to sneak around in the shadows.”
Shannen couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “Very astute, Baerne.”
“Sometimes I am,” he agreed. “So not for worry of treason. But to warn off those who bother you. You should not be treated as you are. And I think it has gone on too long already without the King doing anything about it.”
“I can take care of myself,” Shannen said.
“Clearly,” he said, and she couldn’t detect any mocking in his voice. “But I think some of my people need to be reminded what manners are.”
“What does it matter to you?” she asked. “I am what you fight. I am what has ruined this world for you, taken too many of your people. What does it matter if a few Maarlai speak rudely to me?”
“The spitting. The way some of the women specifically try to get you to do something so they’ll have a reason to hit you.”
“And yet I manage just fine,” she said, finally turning and starting to walk away. “I do not need any help.”
“And I already said that I know that, woman,” Baerne said, and Shannen turned to him, arching an eyebrow at the familiar way he spoke to her. His expression did not change. “I’m saying that someone here should have the sense to treat this like the stupidity it is, rather than ignoring it because you’re human and they can’t be bothered to give a shit.”
Shannen bit back the grin threatening to spread across her face. “You curse like a stablehand.”
“And you haven’t even seen me on my best day. Your Common human language has some qualities I admire,” Baerne said, and Shannen shook her head. “With your blessing, my lady,” he said, smirking a little at the title, “I’ll present the idea to King Elrek.”
“For as much good as it will do you. He has a full plate and is dealing with the more foolish of my people. I hardly think that the occasional Maarlai insulting me is keeping him awake at night.”
“And if it becomes more? If they become violent? Don’t think I haven’t heard them talk about you. There are plenty who would love the opportunity to catch you in a dark corner.”
She shook her head and turned around again. “Do whatever you like, Baerne. It matters not at all to me either way.”
A
fter spending the rest of yet another silent morning with her books, stuck in the palace with the mostly-silent Maarlai, Shannen could not take it anymore.
She needed to get out. She needed fresh air and the smell of soil. Her gaze fell on her trunk, and the shrinking pouches of herbs there. She’d continued taking them, even though Daarik assured her she could not become pregnant by him. She would take no chances.
She was not even sure if she was allowed to go out into the woods, but she was not about to ask permission. She would try it and see what happened.
She grabbed a linen bag from her trunk and quickly walked through the palace and outside, taking routes that would take her past as few Maarlai as possible. There were two entrances into the village, both very well guarded. When she reached the one at the western end, which led into the deeper part of the forest, the guards on duty both watched her closely but did not say a word to her.
They probably hoped she’d get lost out there, Shannen thought to herself. When she turned and glanced back, she saw one lope away while the other watched her. She shook her head and continued deeper into the forest. She did not doubt that her whereabouts were being reported to her husband and probably to about five other Maarlai. Some things about royal life did not change, it seemed.
She walked, and checked the ground around the trees, pleased that the herbs she needed seemed to grow in abundance here. In between harvesting, she walked, and she looked around. She had never been in an actual forest before, and it was strange to be surrounded by so much life, to be shaded from the glaring sun. It was like being tucked into a cool, fluffy bed. Everything was so quiet. She found herself trying to make her footsteps quieter, too.
There was one other herb she needed, this one for her soaps, assuming she would have the chance to make them here. Getting the materials should not be too difficult. She glanced up at the trees, studying the trunks, and soon found it clinging to the rough trunk of an enormous old tree. She knew the trees each had their own name, their own species, but she had never had reason to learn them. She would have to remedy that. She knew she had seen several books about trees in the library in the village.
Exile Page 10
