Magic of Talisman and Blood (Curse of the Ctyri Book 2)

by Raye Wagner

  “I just want to show you,” he huffed. “And it’s easier if we put our weapons down for this.”

  Adaline waited until he’d sheathed his sword before doing the same, heaving a sigh as she looked up.

  The air in the arena smelled of dust, sweat, and leather. The afternoon sky was turquoise with wisps of spun-sugar in vibrant white, and Adaline wished she could capture this moment, with its perfect lighting, on canvas.

  “You’re doing it again,” Evzan rumbled, standing just in front of her now. “You’re here,” he said, tapping her shoulder, “but not here.” Brushing the pads of his calloused fingers over her forehead, he frowned and then asked, “Where are you?”

  In my head. She couldn’t stop the jeers and whispers, so she escaped into her own mind, the best way she’d found to cope with the world around her. It definitely left her more distracted, but before, her attention didn’t matter. Now, it did.

  “Adaline,” Evzan said, ducking to look her in the eyes. “What are you thinking?”

  “I was thinking about drawing the sky like it is right now,” she said, blushing, not willing to tell him about the other things. She bit the side of her mouth, waiting for him to mock her with a snide comment because she knew it was coming. Her gaze slid to the ground, and her stomach rumbled with the reminder of her missed midday meal.

  “I need you here with me, Princess, if I’m going to help you. If you’re painting the sky or distracted with hunger, I’ll not be effective. Neither of us will. Let’s not waste our time.”

  A ruckus of male laughter drifted into the arena, indicating the soldiers’ return from their dinner. The hour allotted for them was over, and the practice rings would soon be occupied with those enlisted to defend Cervene. At least Evzan’s chastisement was delivered quiet enough to prevent all but the keenest ears from eavesdropping.

  “I didn’t mean to waste your time,” she murmured, straightening. Louder she said, “Thank you for taking the time, General.”

  Without waiting for him to dismiss her from their lesson, Adaline turned on her heel to leave.

  Evzan grabbed her arm, halting her retreat. “Adaline, wait. I didn’t mean—”

  “Ho-ho, General Shulz. Are you giving our princess private lessons?” Captain Tipalek asked in his booming voice.

  The thick, barrel-chested man was the antithesis of Evzan in regards to manners and bearing. Tipalek’s large head was accentuated by his tightly shorn blond hair. He had pockmarked skin that barely hid under his patchy beard, and the crook of his nose declared his inability to either be respectful or keep his guard up. He radiated a cruelness and intensity which might serve well in battle. In fact, every time Adaline saw the bruiser, she wondered why a man like him would be held in the castle to train the sitting army stationed in Burdad.

  The captain crossed his arms, his muscles bulging under his tunic. “How does our Queen feel about her niece working with you one-on-one?”

  Adaline wanted to tell him that what she did was not anyone’s business, but that wasn’t true anymore. Propriety demanded the princess be accompanied by a chaperone, but for the year prior to his death, the king had overlooked Adaline’s independence. Now, her habits continually bit her in the butt.

  “The queen regent is well aware of what her niece is doing as would be proper. And our lessons are never unchaperoned,” Evzan said, pointing to a training box where two boys played sticks.

  “Your interpretation of rules continues to amaze me,” Tipalek said with a smile and wink. He turned his attention to Adaline, and his eyes brightened. “Princess, if you ever decide you’d like additional training, just let me know.”

  Adaline forced a smile, despite the way he made her skin crawl. “I don’t think I need additional training, but thank you for the offer, Captain.”

  “That definitely won’t be happening, Tipalek. Now, get back to work,” Evzan snapped. He closed the distance between him and Adaline and said to her, “I’ll escort you to your rooms, Highness.”

  She shook her head, pulling her arm free of his grasp. “That won’t be necessary.”

  More soldiers filed in. Most ignored her, but several chuckled as they always did when she was in the training field. Like their captain, the men who followed his command held the same brutish demeanor. She overheard slips of their conversation, bits and pieces about how a woman should never hold a sword, or women shouldn’t be responsible for anyone’s life, especially their own.

  Adaline wouldn’t take it personally, except there was never such talk when Dimira was around. The princess pursed her lips to prevent putting her foot in her mouth, but frustration blossomed in her chest, pressing against her ribs in search of release.

  “What’s the matter, Princess?” Captain Tipalek asked, grinning. “Do you want a different soldier to escort you?”

  Crass laughter erupted from the men, and someone else yelled, “Do you not like General Shulz’s sword?”

  Before tearing down the wall, the soldiers’ behavior had been respectful, or at least most of them were. Now, those few remaining men seemed to take their cues from the courtiers, many of them, like this fool, going so far as to disrespect her guard.

  The man hadn’t even finished speaking when Evzan drew his weapon and leveled it at Captain Tipalek. “Stop disrespecting the princess with your unseemly and base behavior.”

  Tipalek smirked at Evzan and said, “Men, come on now. We don’t want to hurt the princess’s feelings.”

  The sounds of the men’s mirth intensified, and Adaline’s cheeks blanched and then heated. “I would never want to touch anyone’s sword. I have my own.”

  Several men hooted, the guffaws and chortling of their hilarity escalating; Adaline knew she was missing something. Again.

  Evzan shook his head and grabbed Adaline’s elbow. “Let’s go, Princess,” he ground out. “And keep your mouth shut.”

  “Don’t tell me what to—”

  “Stop,” he growled, his eyes flashing with a darkness he rarely showed. Without turning to face the other soldiers, Evzan bellowed, “Tipalek, if you value your life, you and your men will stop this inappropriate behavior.”

  Adaline blew out an exasperated breath and slapped Evzan’s hand from her elbow. Without a glance at the arena, soldiers, or her trainer, she stomped out, holding her chin high. Their disrespect was getting worse, not better. When Adaline brought it up to Dimira, the queen regent said the best way to deal with teasing and censure was to ignore it. But the soldiers’ and courtiers’ mocking only grew bolder.

  In the darkness of the corridor, she went over the soldiers’ words. Somewhere she’d embarrassed herself, and given the vulgar audience, there’d likely been an innuendo she’d missed. Stupid soldiers. She’d give it a day or two to blow over before she went back. And she’d do a better job of getting out of the arena before the men came in droves.

  “It’s going to take more than just time to change how they treat you,” Evzan said as he came into the passageway leading back to the castle. “If you want them to do something different, you need to demand it.”

  “Aunt Dimira said if I ignore it, eventually, they’ll stop. Besides, they won’t listen to what I say.” She sighed and grumbled to herself, “No one does.”

  “You’re not a victim, Adaline,” Evzan said, echoing her previous thoughts as he closed the distance between them. He stared down on her, his face hardening when she frowned. “Don’t shame your parents’ memories by acting like one. The best way to deal with a bully is to punch him in the nose.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Are you suggesting I punch Tipalek?” The idea was actually appealing. “In the nose?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You have no problem defending yourself against me. Why don’t you do it with the men out there? Why are you afraid of them and not me?” When she said nothing, he continued, “Yes. Punch him in the face. Hold your sword to his neck. If you wanted to fight him, I’m confident you could hold your own against him or any of his b
rutes.”

  The idea of fighting the brutish captain was intimidating. “Kaitse will slay them,” she said, brushing it off. “I don’t care about them. None of them. They were never my friends, so what does it matter what they think?”

  “You don’t care what they think? Well, tell me who you do care about? Because it’s going to be important for you to have the respect of your people when you take the throne, Highness.”

  “You were supposed to be my friend, or at one point I thought you were. Maybe I’ll have you—”

  “Shh,” he whispered, covering her mouth with his hand. He stepped closer, invading her space, and then pushed her to the wall where the shadows would conceal her.

  The murmur of voices drew near and slowly became distinguishable.

  “I don’t care why,” Lord Billiere said in his cold monotone. “It’s your job to make sure she doesn’t. Girls were never meant to have all that power.”

  “First, I’m a woman, too, Lord Billiere. And do you think this is easy?” Queen Regent Dimira snapped. “I’m tired of having to constantly . . . Evzan, is that you?”

  Evzan pushed Adaline all the way against the wall and then stepped out into the corridor. “Your Majesty.”

  “By the stars, what are you doing here? I told you to fetch the rest of the cabinet after training so we could discuss plans for the occupation of Beloch. And where is Adaline?”

  Adaline’s heart raced, thumping wildly against her ribs as she listened.

  “She left the arena not even two minutes ago. You made it clear to wait until she was otherwise occupied before I rounded up your council. Have you not crossed paths with her?” Evzan asked.

  “No,” Dimira said and, with an exasperated sigh, turned around. As she stormed through the corridor, she continued, “You better remember your role, Evzan. I’d hate to see what happens if you bungle this.”

  5

  Adaline measured a length of hair and squeezed her eyes shut. With a swift stroke, she sent most of her golden hair to the ground. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Staring at herself in the mirror, she fisted her hair in one hand, holding it back, and shook her head. Even with short hair, breeches, and no cosmetics, there was only a slim possibility she’d be taken for a soldier. Very slim. So, her plan to infiltrate her army would need to be multifaceted. Fine. She could adapt. She would show the soldiers she wasn’t just a helpless girl to be strategically married off.

  Adaline pulled on her trousers and a soft leather tunic. She packed a spare of each in a length of burlap, as well as her leathers, and then laced up her boots. Quickly braiding the remaining hair, she then tucked it under the leather cap.

  A fortnight ago, Adaline had brought down the Phoenix Fire, and Cervene invaded Beloch. Two weeks of not knowing what was happening . . . Two weeks of false platitudes . . . Two weeks of useless, pointless talk that all of it was being handled for her, but after overhearing Dimira and Evzan in the hallway, Adaline was done.

  She tucked the talisman Evzan gave her into her tunic so the gem-encrusted medallion settled between her small breasts and then turned to grab her hastily made pack. She glanced over her room, pushing the blond hair underneath her bed, and offered a brief orison to Kaitse for safe escape. Her chances were good since it was after midnight.

  Adaline skirted down the hall and gasped when she passed an open doorway, and her gaze met that of a young man dressed in leathers. Her heart flipped, and she blinked only to giggle as she pathetically recognized herself. Maybe she would get away with this.

  She forced herself to stand straight again, realizing at some point over the last twenty feet she’d been hunched like a thief. With a deep breath, Adaline walked briskly toward the stables, giving a brief nod at the servants. But the few maids she passed gave her a wide berth and no other significant notice.

  Adaline entered the stables and looked around. She’d sent no notice to have her horse ready, not wanting anyone, namely Evzan, to halt her plan. Belatedly, she realized the stablehands had gone to bed and she’d need to ready her own horse.

  Every sound startled her, and every passing second increased her anxiety. Thunder’s whinnying and chuffing didn’t help either. But his saddle was easy to locate, and Adaline carried the tack into his stall.

  “Do you want some help, Princess?” Evzan asked.

  Adaline released a muffled shriek and stumbled backward as her heart thundered. She fumbled the saddle as she tried to gather her wits. Too late. They were gone. As was her composure. Her hands trembled, face flushed, and the heir of Cervene bent over, gasping for air as the saddle slid to the ground.

  Evzan circled out from the neighboring stall, and then his polished boots came to a halt in front of her.

  Adaline’s shock abated, and hot, spicy anger rushed in to take its place. How dare he? She sucked in another breath and straightened. “What in the name of Svet do you think you’re doing?” she whisper-yelled. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  Evzan raised his eyebrows and then dropped his gaze to take in her appearance. His eyes met hers again, and he frowned. Stepping forward, he pulled her braid out from under her cap. “What happened to your hair?”

  “I cut it,” she snapped. “Obviously.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  Adaline dropped her shoulders and shook her head. “Why do you think?” She gestured to his neck where he’d gathered his hair in a thong at the nape.

  He studied her, walking a circle around her as he tsked. “You’re not going to fool anybody.”

  “I already did,” Adaline said with a smirk. She bent down and then hefted up the saddle. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to go assess my troops.”

  “No,” he said, reaching for the leather seat. “You’re being impulsive and immature. If you go out there, you’ll be putting your life at risk.”

  “I wasn’t asking your permission.” Adaline yanked the saddle away and stumbled backward, shuffling in the dirty hay with the extra force. “Stop it.” She inhaled and glared at him. “I command you to stop being an impediment.”

  Evzan’s bright-blue eyes hardened, but he released the saddle. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, Adaline. You can’t just barrel in on a war.”

  “I know,” she huffed. Returning to Thunder’s stall, Adaline lifted the saddle to place on her gelding. The space was tight, and maneuvering the saddle awkward and unfamiliar, but with a grunt, she hefted the leather seat onto Thunder’s back. “But I refuse to just sit here and attend more tea parties. I’ll end up ripping my hair out in frustration.”

  “Stars forbid.” Evzan snorted. “You wouldn’t have much left if you did.”

  She rounded on him, and the saddle slid off her horse, bounced off the wall, and knocked her forward. Adaline stumbled into her horse, and Thunder blew through his lips, this time sounding far more frustrated than the last.

  “Me too, Thunder,” she said and kicked the saddle on the ground. “Bull dust,” she swore. “Bull. Dust.”

  Evzan burst into warm, rich laughter. “Come on now. That’s hardly the way for a princess to talk.”

  Adaline glared at him. “Are you going to get out of my way?” She advanced on him, closing the distance to poke him in the chest. “Well, are you?”

  The smile stayed fixed on Evzan’s lips, and he wrapped his hand over hers. Sliding his fingers underneath her palm, he bowed low and, at the same time, raised her hand to his mouth. He brushed his lips over the dip between her first two knuckles and then brushed his thumb over where he’d just kissed.

  Her lips parted, and warmth infused her, making her gasp. Adaline’s anger drained, and she stood rooted to the floor of the stall, blinking at her guard.

  He straightened and, still grinning, said, “Yes. I’ll not only let you go, I’ll accompany you, Highness.”

  “I don’t need your permission,” she whispered as she stared at the spot he’d kissed.

  “Well, you have it all the sam
e.”

  Adaline wasn’t sure if she should be offended or relieved. In truth, she was a bit of both. Make that a lot of both. Evzan released her hand, and she let it fall to her side before raising a finger to point at the saddle. “Then will you ready our horses?” A second later, she added, “Please?”

  Evzan inclined his head and stepped toward her. “Of course, Princess.”

  Adaline turned to allow him room for passage, but the stall was narrow, and their bodies brushed against each other as he passed. He stopped, his chest touching hers, and she brought her hands up, unsure if she should push him away or pull him close. The air around them charged, and Evzan’s eyes darkened.

  Warmth spread low in Adaline’s belly, and she curled her hands into his tunic. Her gaze dropped to his lips. Would they be as soft against hers as they were against her skin?

  Evzan brought his hands up to cup her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks, and Adaline closed her eyes.

  Thunder whinnied behind her, and then his moist nose bumped her temple. The force hit her just as she was rising up on her tiptoes, and she stumbled into her guard.

  Evzan wrapped his arms around her and held her close for a moment before releasing her completely. He scooted past and bent to grab her saddle all before Adaline realized he wasn’t going to kiss her. As if to confirm it, he said, “You shouldn’t kiss me.”

  She closed her eyes and reined in her emotions. This wasn’t the time to be reactive, not if she wanted success. And she did, more than she wanted a kiss. So Adaline swallowed her pride and turned to help him with the tack. “Right. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  They worked in awkward silence for several minutes, and Adaline quickly moved out of his way when they were done.

  “I’ll get Warbringer and meet you outside,” he said, his voice rough. “He’s ready and waiting, so please don’t take off without us.”

  Adaline’s jaw dropped. “Your horse’s name is Warbringer? Really? How did I not know that?”