by Keziah Hill
Antos eyed him speculatively. ‘Hmm … a good point and one we must investigate further. But now we celebrate a wedding. Isn’t my bride beautiful? Gold becomes her don’t you think?’
Devadas kept his gaze resolutely on his brother, avoiding looking at Lissa, who sat on a low stool at Antos’s feet.
The Hall of Warriors was filled with many of the soldiers of Catiscal as well as a large number of townsfolk. Devadas saw many of his childhood friends who acknowledged him with warmth and keen interest. Earlier he’d had a tearful reunion with his mother and Dana under the watchful eye of Antos. Of Lissa there was no sign until now, when Antos had gathered together a large group to celebrate the coming wedding. He’d led her into the hall with great ceremony and seemed pleased at the collective gasp of the assembled Catiscalians.
Devadas’s rage threatened to consume him when he saw her. Antos had left the gold harness on her and dressed her in clothes that resembled the silks he’d first seen her in all those years ago. In Horvald such clothes would attract attention because they were so fine and no one had fine clothes any more. In Catiscal they were seen as the clothes of a whore. Transparent and seductive, the silks enhanced the shape of the gold chains rather than concealed them.
But what bought a red sheen of fury to Devadas’s eyes was the leather strap Antos had looped around the chain at her neck. He led Lissa into the hall, sat on the throne and motioned her to sit on a stool made for a child.
Lissa raised her eyes once and stared at Devadas. He saw yearning and hope in her gaze but steeled himself to regard her impassively. Then she looked down while red stained her cheeks. His heart pounded painfully. He had treated her like this. Just like Antos, he had humiliated her in front of her people. The ten long years of yearning for revenge had warped him. If he managed to get her out of here and back to her people he would hand back Horvald and disappear. Maybe all he was good for was as a mercenary. The High King could always use his services.
Bitter thoughts tormented him as he continued to converse with his brother. ‘Fine gold from Arvo. There is more to be had if we play our cards right.’
Antos waved away his words. ‘We will talk of business later. For now we feast. This is my last night as a free man after all.’
A murmur of disquiet filled the room. Devadas could see that, as usual, Antos had misread his people. The women in particular were stony faced and resentful. They didn’t like to see Princess Lissa treated like a whore even if they might secretly think all Horvald women were just that. Devadas watched his mother shoot him an imploring look while Dana gazed at her brother with loathing.
Beautiful Dana. She’d grown into a graceful and elegant woman with a queenly bearing that disarmed him. At their first meeting she’d hugged him closely with tears in her eyes. But her heartfelt emotions hadn’t stopped her slipping a note into his hand.
It seemed all was not well in Catiscal. Murmurings of discontent were getting louder and the kidnapping of Princess Lissa was seen as shameful.
‘That’s right, Antos. And like any good night before a wedding, you need to spend it with your brother and boon companions. We need to get you good and drunk, while the women do the same with your bride. Isn’t that right, Dana?’
‘I was just about to say exactly the same thing,’ Dana said as she walked toward Lissa. She grabbed the leather lead before Antos could react, then pulled Lissa from the stool by her arm. ‘Don’t worry, Antos. We’ll prepare Lissa for you. Tomorrow your bride will be even more beautiful. Come Lissa. Mother?’
Juno grabbed her by her other arm. The two women had her quickly surrounded by a bevy of women who all laughed and giggled as they led her from the hall. Devadas quickly moved next to his brother and slapped him on the back.
‘Excellent! I’ve been craving some good Catiscal ale. Never have I tasted any to match it. Luc, Alain, you’re in for a treat.’
Antos glared after Lissa with narrowed eyes but relaxed somewhat after the men in the hall broke out in laughter and merriment. A group of musicians appeared seemingly from nowhere and started a jaunty tune. Tables were pushed into the centre of the hall and platters of food appeared along with huge jugs of ale.
The men of Catiscal looked well prepared to settle in for a night to mark the occasion of their king’s marriage. But Devadas saw with interest that Antos was hustled to one end of the table while he was maneuvered to the other end. The men surrounding Antos seemed determined to have an energetic good time, telling loud stories about conquests both of the warfare and amorous kind while at the same time, swilling more and more ale down their throats. They made certain Antos always had a full cup. He entered into the spirit of the celebrations with gusto, telling his own stories which were loudly applauded by his comrades. After only a short time, Devadas saw Antos was well into his cups.
By contrast, Devadas sat with a group of men he’d known since childhood who kept up just enough enthusiasm for the evening’s festivities but still managed to converse with Devadas about the state of Catiscal.
‘He’s not his father.’ Relno was the General of Catiscal’s army and childhood playmate of both Antos and Devadas. ‘He thinks being a king means getting his own way on everything. This marriage with Princess Lissa is good example. Anyone with eyes in their head could see she doesn’t want it. We’d just got to a point where the alliance with Horvald was working well for everyone and he wrecks it with his childish demands.’
‘We don’t approve of the ways of Horvald and the gods know they don’t approve of us all the time, but we’d managed to put all that aside and work together for trade and mutual protection,’ Tival, another commander in the army, said quietly. ‘The only reason Horvald hasn’t sent troops to get back Princess Lissa is because of you. We can’t afford to go to war at the drop of a hat. Your father knew that but Antos doesn’t. He thinks being a king is all about riding around the countryside and terrorising his people. He demanded a threefold increase in tithing after the last harvest. The people of Catiscal cannot afford that.’
Devadas listened to the men as he watched his brother. He wasn’t surprised at their words, but was surprised about how much he cared. After he’d escaped from the Horvald army and become a mercenary, he’d put all thoughts of his homeland out of his mind. He had thought he’d never return and while he mourned the loss of his family, he didn’t think he mourned Catiscal. After years of travel and seeing the world, he knew that the rigid morality of Catiscal wasn’t for him.
But the words of Relno and Tival bought back all the memories of the land of his birth. A rigid country, yes, but not lacking in warmth and beauty. Catiscal people worked hard but loved each other just as people did all around the world in different ways, with different values. For the Horvaldians, sex was something to be shared and celebrated with fun and lightness while in Catiscal sex was a sacred bond between a man and a woman but hidden and not discussed. But in both countries, especially after the Great Storm forced them to co-operate with each other, their people just wanted to live their lives, raise their children and live in peace.
As he talked softly with his old friends, Devadas became aware that they watched him with expectation in their eyes.
‘What would you have me do?’ he asked.
They shifted on their seats and glanced at each other, then at Antos. ‘Seize the throne,’ Relno said. ‘You are your father’s son and most would say you should’ve been his heir. Do it now, tonight. The army is behind you.’
Devadas stared at them while a hot ball of anxiety tightened in his chest. Could he do what they asked? Did he want to? He glanced up the table to find his brother scowling at him.
‘What are you saying down there?’ Antos demanded. ‘Plotting and planning, my dear brother?’
Devadas smiled and shook his head. ‘Just talking with my old friends, Relno and Tival. I haven’t seen them in ten years after all. A lot has happened in that time.’
‘More than you know.’ Antos leaned back in his chair and g
ulped at more ale, all the time watching his brother. ‘You spoke before of working together to trade and make money. But I’m one step ahead of you as always. I’ve been in contact with the merchants of the Southlands and have stitched up an agreement already. There should be another wedding soon for Catiscal.’
‘What do you mean?’ Devadas asked with growing dread.
‘Dana will marry the Prince of Arvo. Soon we’ll have gold for the asking.’
A murmur of disquiet filled the room.
‘And what does Dana think of this match?’
Antos shrugged. ‘What she wants doesn’t come into it. She’ll do as she’s told. Catiscal is more important than the needs of one woman.’
The murmur grew. Devadas looked around him to see hard, angry faces. The people of Catiscal might be rigid but they knew right from wrong. They did not want to see their beloved princess sold for gold.
Antos peered around at the angry faces and seemed to realise his comrades were not happy. He stood, wobbling slightly and stretched out an arm, pointing to all of them.
‘I am the King of Catiscal. If I say Dana will marry, then she will marry. That is the end of it.’
‘I don’t think so, Brother.’ Devadas signaled to Luc and Alain who came to attention along with their small retinue of armed men. Antos spluttered in outrage.
‘Seize them!’ he demanded. ‘Seize them now!’
Devadas raised an eyebrow at Relno who stared back, a half smile on his face. With a brief hand signal, he ordered his men to stand down.
Antos paled with shock, which transformed into fury as Luc and Alain grabbed his arms. ‘This is treason!’ he shouted. ‘You will all pay for this. The people of Catiscal will rise up to defend me. Then you will all be punished. If you release me now, I’ll be merciful and banish you. But if not, I’ll see you all burn.’
Relno shrugged. ‘A chance we’ll have to take. Lock him up. My men will show you where.’ Luc and Alain pulled the struggling and shouting Antos out of the hall. Relno smiled at Devadas.
‘King Devadas. It has a good ring.’
Devadas stood unsmiling as the shouts of his brother faded in the distance.
Chapter Twelve
Lissa stretched, then winced as muscles she didn’t know she had screamed in protest. A hard day’s ride from Catiscal to Horvald left her limp as a rag doll. She glanced at Devadas who dismounted from his horse looking as if he’d been for a ride in the country.
He wouldn’t look at her.
Since he’d rescued her and left Catiscal in the care of Princess Dana, he’d said barely a word to her. She wondered if he believed she’d been defiled by Antos and was somehow contaminated, but he’d been appalled when she suggested such a thing in the one conversation they had just after Antos had been banished. Since then he’d avoided her. He wasn’t cold, just distant and preoccupied.
She thought perhaps he was full of unexpected grief having to bind his older brother to a horse then direct two guards to escort him to the port of Telno. They were to pay for his passage to the Southlands.
‘Find your fortune there,’ Devadas told him. ‘Your destiny is not in Catiscal.’
Antos had spat on the ground in front of his brother and glared at him with a hatred that made most onlookers step back. But not Devadas. He’d stared at his brother as he rode off with a look Lissa couldn’t decipher. Then he’d turned to her and opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated. Shaking his head he instead made for the Hall of Warriors.
‘Come,’ he said. ‘We must get you back to Horvald.’
‘Will you being staying here?’
He shook his head. ‘No, my destiny is not here either. Dana will rule. I’ll leave Luc and Alain here for a while to make sure she is protected, but from what I can see Catiscal will welcome her as Queen. No, I’m going back to Horvald with you.’
Cautious joy flowed through her at his words. But joy had long since dissipated after their ride from Catiscal.
After their horses were led away, Lissa was besieged by welcoming townsfolk who wanted to see for themselves their princess was safe. Lissa laughed and hugged Ris and Val.
‘I’m fine. Nothing happened to me. Devadas saved me and saved Catiscal. Antos is no longer a threat to us.’
Val eyed Devadas with interest. ‘It would seem I owe you an apology,’ he said gruffly.
A ghost of a smile appeared on Devadas’s face as he waved away the older man’s words. ‘There is nothing to apologise for. The Warlord Death has a tendency to keep his cards close to his chest.’
Val grunted. ‘I should’ve realised you had a plan. You’re not the kind of man who would let another take what is yours.’
Lissa saw Devadas wince at Val’s words. ‘Princess Lissa is not mine. If she belongs to anyone, it’s to Horvald.’
Lissa moved closer to him and grasped his hand. ‘No. That’s not all the truth,’ she murmured.
He pulled himself from her grasp and turned toward the town gate. ‘I need some rest and some food. It was a long ride.’
Lissa stared after him with dismay. Something had happened. A barrier had appeared between them that even in his rage had not been there before.
She followed him into the town walls then into the Great House surrounded by happy, excited townsfolk. They talked of a feast, a wedding feast now that their princess had returned, saved by the Lord Devadas. He was a hero now, a saviour, not a conqueror.
Dread inched its insidious grip around her heart. He did not behave like a saviour, a new king. He was polite enough, smiling and laughing with the crowd, but his eyes were empty of all feeling. She hurried after him, desperate to get him alone and find out what was wrong.
But that did not happen for some hours. The house was full of people wanting to see her, wanting to make sure she was unhurt. Rumours had flown around the town that Antos had defiled her. She spent some time ensuring people she was unharmed. In the swirl of laughter and celebrations, she lost sight of Devadas.
‘Has Lord Devadas everything he needs, Ris?’ she asked, preparing to extract herself from the loving crowd and find him.
‘Yes,’ Ris replied, a troubled look in her eyes. ‘He’s retired to your father’s old rooms.’
Lissa stilled then squared her shoulders. ‘Has he? Well, I’d best visit him.’
She climbed the stairs to the sleeping quarters and stood outside the door of her father’s rooms. She could hear a rustling noise. Knocking softly she opened the door after the rustling stopped. Devadas was standing by the bed packing his saddle bag. He glanced at her then resumed packing.
‘Are you going somewhere?’
He grunted. ‘Off to Tisvo. The High King is in need of the services of an experienced soldier.’
Lissa’s throat tightened. ‘I thought you wanted to be King of Horvald.’
He glanced at her again. ‘You’ll be glad to know I’ve had second thoughts. I don’t think the settled life of Horvald is for me. I’ll take your pledge of fealty back to the High King.’
Silence. Pain flowed though her body as it had ten years ago. Pain at the hands of this man. That realisation ignited fury. He would not do this to her again. She would not stand by like some helpless maiden while he abandoned her and their life together.
‘What of my chains?’ she asked. ‘Do you want them back or am I to keep them as a remembrance of your sated revenge?’ In a fluid movement, she pulled off her dress and stood before him naked except for the symbol of his past rage. ‘Will you remove them?’
Devadas stared at her blankly. She wanted to weep with despair until she noticed the fast beating pulse in his neck and the way his gaze didn’t rest on her but at a spot past her. She grabbed his hand and placed it on the chain around her neck. His breathing was laboured as if he’d run a long way.
‘Will you untie it?’ she asked.
His gaze rested on her now, on her hardening nipples. His hand slowly moved downward, tracing the gold chain curving around her breast, allo
wing his thumb to brush her aching, sensitive tip. He raised his other hand to cup her breast, playing with her gold framed flesh. She grasped his hips, pulling him closer to her so she could feel his growing hardness against her mound. Undulating her hips, she rubbed against him while he pinched and teased her nipples. Her own breathing became laboured as the pinch of his fingers swelled the teasing, insistent need deep within her sex.
‘You can’t leave,’ she murmured. ‘I won’t let you. Not after losing you for all those years.’
He dropped his hands from her breasts, allowing her to embrace him tightly. His arms were motionless at his sides, until with a desperate moan he lifted them to hold her. Burying his face in her neck he kissed her feverishly, while his hands roamed over her back, feeling her, reading her like a blind man wanting to remember her curves and contours.
Finally, he held her face in his hands and kissed her long and hard. The taste of him, the fear that this might be the last time she would ever be in his arms made her desperate. She clung to him, trying to tell him with her mouth and her body that she was his and always would be.
He broke their embrace and staggered away. ‘I can’t,’ he said. ‘I can’t stay.’
‘But why?’ she asked, grabbing his arm to turn him to face her. ‘I don’t understand.’
He did turn then and the look on his face made her want to weep.
‘I’m broken, Lissa. Don’t you see? I came here to hurt you, to make you suffer even though I knew I loved you. That’s not right. When I saw the way Antos treated you, I realised he and I were not so different. We both treated you cruelly. I’m not fit to rule Horvald. If I stay, I’ll only hurt you.’
She searched his face, knowing what she had to say must convince him to stay, but also knowing she must tell him the truth.
