A Gift Freely Given (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 1)

by J. Ellen Ross

  They traveled over the mountains and across the Vinca. Where possible, they camped outside and when they needed to, Zaraki found them accommodations. “You’re a fine friend,” he told the horse under the stars as he bedded down one night. He felt better than he had in weeks, alone with just his thoughts and the magnificent horse he now owned.

  When they heard the bells in Achym, Zaraki felt ready to face civilization again. Halfway between Kajetan and Lida, the city acted as a stopover for travelers and traders. He found a tavern with an inn near town and went to his bank branch. After confirming all was in order with his paperwork, he asked for directions to an agent who could help him find a house for sale.

  After a few days of looking, and enjoying the luxury of the inn, Zaraki and his agent went to see a home sitting on Siven square. Standing three stories tall with a large stable in the back for his new best friend, he loved it the moment he saw it. It came furnished with a few items; a large bed, a few benches and a table he would need to replace. He signed the bill of exchange and took possession the next day. This would be his safe house, if he ever needed a place to hide or if he ever left Leisha’s service.

  Zaraki spent a night in the house, just enjoying the feel of owning something this grand. He thought of his parents and hoped they would be proud of him.

  ***

  Kajetan had grown even larger in the two years since Zaraki left it. From a few letters, he knew Aniska likely still worked at a tavern near the lord’s gambling hall. He stood outside across the street for two hours, waiting for her to emerge, hood pulled low over his eyes. The last thing she needed was to be recognized with a Tahaerin spy.

  When she emerged from the tavern’s side door, she wore a splendid striped gown, scandalous for its low cut. Given the noble and rich clientele and her job as collector of information for Kajetan’s lord, he was not surprised. She kept her red hair braided, tied back with a ribbon and looked just as he remembered.

  He rushed across the street and caught up to her. “Ani,” he said in a low voice.

  Without looking up, she said, “Zaraki. It’s been a while.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. Can we talk?”

  “Some jerk got grabby and spilled his drink all over me. I can’t be seen like this when the gambling patrons show up. We can talk in my apartment.”

  They reached a block of pretty shop fronts, open to the afternoon sun. She led him up the stairs to the second floor. “How have you been?” she asked once they were inside.

  “Good, really good,” he admitted. “You look like you’re doing well here, too, Ani.” Her rooms sat above a jeweler’s shops and she had filled them with beautiful things. The sorts of things she never had growing up. Dolls and fine rugs. A small painting of a woman carrying a child to church hung on a wall opposite a carving from some exotic land he could not place. She served tea in porcelain cups at a table in her small kitchen, with tea leaves almost as fine as the ones he was used to in Tahaerin.

  “You were always right. People tell me things. Drunk gamblers especially and my employer’s eager to hear those things. He appreciates the information I provide and pays me well. I’m very happy here, Zaraki.”

  “Good, I’m so glad. I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

  Aniska waved his apology away. “Nonsense. I’m sure you’ve been as busy as I have. You’re obviously working. You look wonderful.”

  “I am, and that’s why I’m here.” He sighed and looked guilty. “I have a wonderful position and I’ve made a mess of it.”

  “Oh dear. Tell me everything you can.” Remembering him as a studious, driven boy, she had a hard time imagining Zaraki, of all people, messing up.

  He stared at the table, unsure where to start or how to explain everything without giving up any secrets. No matter how much he needed her help, he could not break another oath. Swirling his tea in her delicate cup, he said, “Ani, I work for someone who needs me. A great deal. Her life’s in danger. She’s threatened from all sides.

  “I don’t know how it crept on me. We’ve worked together for two years, ever since I left you here. We’re an amazing team. I’ve killed to protect her; I’ve tortured a man. I’m not even a spy much anymore. I’m something else. Bodyguard, adviser, I don’t even know.” He set the cup down and ran his hands through his scruffy hair. “We were apart for two months and I came back and I saw her. It was like lightning. Like lightning, Ani. I love her.”

  The look she gave him reminded him of a master chastising his dog, disappointed and knowing. “Oh, Zaraki. You’ve made a mess of this, haven’t you? Have you told her?”

  “Of course not. No, I can’t.”

  “Why not?” she asked, looking confused. “No, that’s probably too much to tell me. Well, look, you can’t do this. We may not agree with everything Cezar did, but our oaths are good and they make us good spies—the best there are. They keep us honest. You either tell her or you have to leave.”

  “I can’t. I don’t trust anyone to protect her the way I do.” He stuck a finger in his tea and then started drawing shapes on the wooden table. “Ani, the men I killed, the man I tortured. I don’t feel any remorse or regret. They threatened her and I ended them. How can I ever trust someone else to do that for her? Her life will be in danger if I leave.”

  “Her life’s in danger if you stay and you’re compromised this way.” Her tone was firm, like a mother lecturing a child. “She pays you for your objectivity and you can’t give it to her. You’ll make decisions using your heart, not your head. It’s not fair to her.”

  “But how can I put her in danger by being a selfish prick like this?” Now he was begging, hoping she had an answer he knew did not exist.

  Ani shook her head. “How is it selfish to keep your oaths?”

  Struggling to explain, Zaraki sighed and put his head in his hands. “Because. I’ve fallen in love with her, and because I didn’t guard my heart and can’t keep myself in check, she may die. It’s not her fault. I don’t know what to do. Maybe with time…” He trailed off.

  She put her hand over one of his. “You’re a good man with a lovely heart. You’ll never stop loving this girl. Listen to me. If you stay this course, then pain and heartbreak are stalking you. They’ll catch up eventually.”

  Her warning rang in his ears, but he knew it made no difference. As he thought of his family and how he cowered in the wagon as the slavers butchered them, he knew he could never let that happen to Leisha. He would do anything to protect her, even break his oaths.

  Sighing, he shut the door on the conversation. “Ani, there’s more. I’ve come into a fair bit of money. I’ve just bought a house in Achym, on the other side of Embriel. I want it to be a safe house for us. A place we can hide if anything happens. There’s money there and I’ve retained an agent to keep a caretaker living there, keep the place repaired, that sort of thing. You just have to show up and tell them Father’s name. They’ll let you in. It’s the red-roofed house on Siven square. You can’t miss it.

  “Also, I’ve made you my heir if anything should happen to me. There’s land involved now and a horse farm. If I die, it all goes to you.”

  She stared at him, eyes round. “Who the hell do you work for?” She knew he would not answer, but asked all the same.

  Standing, he stretched and walked over to her. He kissed the top of her head. “Come on. You have to get back to the tavern and I have a huge favor to ask.”

  “Anything, Zaraki.”

  “I want to get incredibly drunk tonight, but I need you to watch me and make sure I don’t say anything stupid.”

  She knew he meant anything private or anything considered a secret. “I’ll have Bertol knock you out if you start to say anything you shouldn’t. It’ll hurt like hell. He’s built like a wall of stone, but you’ll shut up. And I’ll make sure they put you in a private room to sleep it off.”

  ***

  Zaraki had not touched drink since entering Leisha’s service. Had he not been so drunk alread
y, he would have been embarrassed at how little it took to get him completely inebriated. Aniska kept drinks coming his way and joined in when he started singing with a table of drunken guildsmen. She watched as patrons tried to draw him into deep conversations, but he never took the bait, keeping all talk fun and lighthearted. When he passed out on his stool and fell to the floor, Bertol dragged him upstairs to the empty suite at the top of the tavern.

  Once the bar closed, Aniska wiped the tables down and finished the chores. She went up to the top of the stairs and unlocked the door. Zaraki lay sleeping under the covers, but after his turmoil earlier this afternoon, he looked peaceful. She could see he still had most of his clothes on. Taking his boots and her shoes off, she lay down next to him.

  Very late the next morning, Zaraki opened his eyes and thought the hangover was not as bad as it could have been. He rolled over and realized Aniska lay in bed next to him, as lovely as ever. Reaching out, he moved a strand of her pretty hair off her face. Maybe she would want to rekindle their physical relationship just once. That would get Leisha out of his mind.

  But no. The idea came and went in a puff of smoke and he realized he had no interest in Aniska that way anymore, despite her pleasing figure and adventurous streak. First the prostitute and now this? He wondered if he would ever have sex again.

  ***

  By the time Zaraki finished visiting with his agents and turned Capar towards Lida, he felt his emotional turmoil beginning to settle. He stopped trying to fight how he felt and accepted he was in love with Leisha. But acceptance came at a cost, and it meant casting aside his old loyalties and some of his oaths. The oaths he swore all those years ago, that commanded him to keep his secrets, including those belonging to Lord Edik. Now, as he rewrote them to fit his new reality, Zaraki felt the time had come to address certain other matters, and stop looking over his shoulder.

  As he rode home, he penned a long overdue letter to Cezar.

  Dear Father,

  I suspect you know where I am and likely where Aniska is. I also know you know I did nothing to betray you. Yet, you chose the coward’s course instead of simply casting me out. And now, I grow tired of waiting to see what you’ll do next.

  I can’t be too angry with you. Because of the way you raised me and because of your actions, I’m well placed and well paid. I have the respect and thanks of my employer.

  But understand. The things I know about you and about Edik’s plans for Streza, the things you both want kept secret? I’ll keep them as long as you keep to Ostrava. Any attack or threat to me, or to Aniska, and I’ll make sure those secrets see the light of day. I’ll betray you as easily and as quickly as you betrayed me. And I’ll make sure Edik knows you’re to blame for our defection and for Crain’s death.

  Z.

  He placed it into the hands of an agent traveling east and washed his hands of Ostrava.

  Yes, his threats violated his oaths and yes, staying in Lida did as well, but he made his decision. He could not abandon Leisha, could not put her life in danger just to protect his own heart. Discarding some of his oaths, he would cling to the others. He would pour his love into his work, become the best man possible and be her staunchest ally. She would never know how he felt. All to keep her safe.

  Plots

  Zaraki watched as Leisha’s bloodless victory over her uncle signaled to her fractious nobles she would play their game to a point. Then she would outmaneuver them. Staval’s political star, once so bright on the horizon, faded swiftly, which served as a warning. In a land that valued power and might over all, who would follow a man bested by an eighteen-year-old girl, queen or not? His friends began to distance themselves and angle for new alliances. Lords viewed Leisha as a political force to be reckoned with, not just a child queen to be ignored or managed.

  In the next two years, she grew more skillful at managing her nobles through coercion, manipulation, and outright bullying. She held another Convocation and this time the lords brought real issues – ones which required a monarch to resolve. No one played games or tried to trap her into making a mistake.

  In the four years since taking the throne, Leisha grew to look more and more like her mother. Now noblemen courted her for her delicate features and lovely figure, as well as her crown. Offers of marriage poured in as great houses scrambled to field the next king. Leisha rejected them all. When Symon counseled her to consider a son of Ceslav, she told him she rather liked being queen and being alive. “What incentive is there to keep me that way once they have the throne?” she asked and Symon conceded the point.

  More importantly, her allies increased in number. At first, a few weaker nobles flocked to her side for protection. But, as she moved through the treacherous landscape of Tahaerin politics, other nobles noticed her skillful handling and made tentative overtures. She welcomed previous enemies and strengthened their ties with political and economic incentives. Now twenty years old, she felt like she truly ruled a kingdom.

  ***

  Zaraki spent a great deal of time on the road, managing Leisha’s network of spies, rooting out enemy agents and recruiting new information brokers. This suited him as he tried to guard his heart and keep his feelings to himself. As his web increased in quality and quantity, Leisha grew stronger and more confident. The pendulum in dealings with the Tahaerin nobles swung in her favor.

  The farm in Ola proved a great source of income. Nobles wanted his Aulerons and his agents sold the stock all over the kingdom. As he squirreled away money from the horses, he began to think of investing in another business that would be all his. On one trip back to Lida, he asked an agent in town to find him something for sale and completed the purchase of a brewery from a man who overextended himself.

  For a month, Zaraki spent all his free time in town, learning about his new investment and hiring people to run it for him. He stayed out of the brewing since he knew nothing about beer, but he used his position as spymaster without shame. It opened doors for him and soon he had contracts to supply several local taverns.

  However, after nights spent huddled over his desk, he discovered he had no head for bookkeeping. Looking at the jumble of entries he had made, he decided to hire someone to do it for him. First, though, he needed to undo the damage he had done to his ledgers.

  “Symon?” Zaraki asked, sticking his head into the little room the other man kept as an office. “I was wondering if I could ask a favor?”

  The older man looked up from his desk. “Of course, my dear boy. Come in. Sit. What can I help with?” He nodded at the empty chair.

  Setting down the small ledger book, Zaraki ruffled his mop of hair. He needed to cut it, again. “Well, I bought a business – a brewery.”

  Symon grinned, pleased and not surprised. The boy was bright, well-paid and painfully frugal. Even with the increased income from the sale of his Aulerons, Zaraki dressed in the same plain style of clothes and used the same furniture he had picked out four years ago. “Did you? Excellent. Congratulations, Spymaster. Quite the accomplishment.”

  “Yes, well. I bought it and I’m learning about it, but the accounts.” He tapped at the ledger resting on the desk and looked sheepish. “I thought I could handle them, I’m good with figures, but I think I’ve made a mess. I wanted to ask if you would help put then in order again. I’ll pay you.”

  “Let’s look and see what you have.” Symon opened the small book and saw the attempts Zaraki had made. Page after page with columns of numbers in neat, cramped script, lines drawn through many scribbles and ink blots. It made him wince. “Oh dear. Yes, you have quite a bit of chaos, don’t you?”

  “I foolishly assumed it would be easy and I could learn as I went,” Zaraki laughed.

  “Well, don’t worry. I’ll fix these and then I’ll keep them tidy for you, from now on.”

  Zaraki shook his head and frowned. “I couldn’t ask that of you.”

  “You’re not asking. I’m volunteering,” Symon said, laughter filling his voice.

 
“At least let me pay you. I can.”

  “No, I’ll do it as a favor to you, Zaraki. It’s what family does.”

  The boy froze and stared at him wide-eyed. “Family?” he asked in a quiet voice.

  “Yes. Family,” Symon said, smiling at the earnest young man in front of him. “I think after four years, I’ve earned the right to call you that.”

  ***

  Zaraki walked back to his apartment feeling unsettled and conflicted. He appreciated Symon’s offer and welcomed his help, but he could not help but feel he had violated his oaths yet again. He had sworn to avoid emotional entanglements and, of course, he had broken that when he fell in love with Leisha and refused to leave her service. However, he had held himself apart from Symon, Andelko, Jan and Eli and the rest of the household at Branik.

  He only owed Leisha his loyalty. If anyone threatened her, even someone as close as Symon, Zaraki had to be free to move against them. He had sworn to be loyal to his employer, above all.

  Yet he longed for what Symon offered. A family, a home. At thirteen, when he took the brand and swore his oaths, they seemed so easy to keep and so easy to understand. They would guide him through his career and keep him out of rough waters. The further he traveled from his boyhood, the more complicated his promises seemed, the more open to interpretation.

  Now, Zaraki felt their weight and wondered how long before he broke under the burden.

  ***

  A small, nervous man waited in his apartments when Zaraki opened the door. Dressed in dark clothes, the man jumped to his feet. “Spymaster,” he said, snapping off his cap and bowing.

  Zaraki put aside his inner turmoil, not expecting any visitors and certainly not his agent from the Embriel capital. “Marcin, what brings you here?” It could not be anything good if his agent came all the way from Arnost.

  “I couldn’t trust this to a messenger, sir. I had to bring it straight to you,” he said, sounding exhausted. “A man paid me to get him in front of Andrzej of Embriel. He said he spoke for Lord Ladvik.” Marcin spelled out a plan to topple Leisha and make Ladvik king. “He even brought me a letter.”