The Men of Anderas I: Jardan, the King

by C. J. Johnson

“Is Melodie still afraid of us?” Zeth wasn’t looking at his son when he asked the question, and JarDan couldn’t judge his mood from the tone of his voice.

  “No. She’s accepted her life here, I think. She's not afraid of us. She doesn’t feel worthy of being a princess because of her prior life as a farmer.”

  He smiled remembering her transfer of Thomas to the kitchen staff. Thomas’ family was outraged but JarDan would continue to support his wife’s decision -- not because he necessarily thought she was correct in her assumptions but because she made the decision. It was a beginning.

  “Her self-confidence is improving every day, but this,” he indicated the area outside the window with a sweep of his hand, “is like a fairy tale to her. She still expects to see magicians and unicorns appear at any time. I think she’s afraid that it will disappear, like a dream, if she lets herself believe.”

  Dak’s short bark of ironic mirth filled the room with the rare sound of his humor. “You haven’t told her about the unicorns, have you?”

  JarDan scowled at his friend. “If you mean have I told her that our war horses are male unicorns with their horns removed, no. I have no death wish that I’m aware of.”

  “Didn’t she ask about the mark on the horse’s head? Zeth asked, trying to take control of the situation again.

  “She was too terrified of riding to notice.” He flushed with embarrassment. “And I was too occupied by other thoughts to worry about whether she discovered she was riding a unicorn.”

  “Well, Son, I don’t envy you the task of explaining that particular piece of our world. Now, if you two have quite finished, we have serious work to do this morning. Let’s go to the Communication Center and question the possibility of an earlier message. I can’t believe Logan would let something like this slip up on him. He, like his father before him, takes his responsibilities seriously. Monitoring a collection station is difficult at best.”

  The three men left the small room. The echo of their footsteps covered the sound of a window closing -- the window next to the king’s study.

  * * * *

  Melodie stretched in the huge bed, feeling the pull of muscles unaccustomed to last night’s activities. A purely feminine smile of utter satisfaction curved her lips. Brushing her fingertips against their swollen fullness, Melodie remembered JarDan’s hungry kisses. That man certainly knew how to kiss. The bits and pieces of her memories aboard the Destiny merged with the reality of last night, heating her face with her blush. There wasn’t one inch of skin untouched by his mouth and hands. Those huge, powerful, warrior’s hands that caressed her with a touch as gentle as a breeze. Something elusive, something she should know drifted just out of reach. Something that made last night different from the first night -- and it had nothing to do with drugs.

  Get out of bed, Melodie Anne, she told herself with a shrug and get on with your day. Laying about daydreaming won’t make tonight come any faster.

  Tossing back the snowy blanket Melodie immediately headed for the bathroom and the tub of hot, bubbling water that was always fresh and waiting for her. By the time her bath was complete, ArDell was waiting with her magic comb and for the first time she didn’t complain about the luxury. This morning, the pampering felt good.

  “I’m so glad you finally came to your senses, Princess. The whole village is talking about your change of heart.”

  Melodie turned suddenly to face her gossipy maid. “What do you mean the whole village is talking?” An uneasy suspicion was beginning to make her queasy.

  “Why, about you and Prince JarDan finally sharing a bed. What else would they be talking about this morning?” ArDell issued her bald statement and turned Melodie back to face the mirror so she could finish her hair. “Close your mouth, Princess. You look like a fish.”

  With a snap of her teeth, Melodie glared at ArDell’s reflection. “Just how would the whole village know about our sleeping arrangements?” How could she face all these people if they knew the most private details of her relationship with JarDan? There was always someone around to help her dress or undress or comb her hair or take a bath. Lack of privacy was one thing -- she lived in a castle, for goodness sake. But this! This was just too much! Melodie didn’t believe JarDan would spread tales of what went on behind their door but she couldn’t imagine how anyone else would know.

  ArDell laughed at the indignation on Melodie’s face. “Princess, half the warriors watched you and Prince JarDan leave the hall last night. At the breakfast meal, Lord Dak was grateful for a night without Prince JarDan’s snores keeping him awake. It takes very little effort to figure out where the Prince spent the night.”

  She laid a comforting hand on Melodie’s shoulder. “There was no insult or harm intended, Melodie.” She offered softly. “The people of the village only wish the best for you. Your actions yesterday made quite an impression on them -- not that I approve, mind you.” She scolded. “You had no business out in that sun and dirt. Why, I’m just beginning to see the end of those tan lines on your arms and neck and there you are without so much as a hat on your head. Well, never mind about that. As I was saying,” she continued in a softer tone, “you made yourself real to them -- not just the future queen, but a person with convictions and the courage to live by those convictions. You made them proud.”

  Melodie blinked rapidly to prevent the tears stinging her eyes from falling. It took several tries before she could speak past the lump in her throat. “I didn’t do it to impress the people of the village. I only did what I felt I had to do … and I’d do it again. If you can find a way, tell them thank you for me.”

  With a brisk nod, ArDell finished braiding Melodie’s hair, weaving silver ribbons through the loops. When she was finished she brought out a silver silk underdress and an overdress in deep blue brocade, trimmed with silver embroidery around the hem and sleeves and covered in scattered pearls.

  “Where did this come from?” Melodie asked in amazement as she fingered the pearls that looked like snowflakes against the darker blue of the dress. “I’ve never seen it before and it’s much too fancy to wear today. I’ve got to repair the damage to the rose garden.” With a reluctant sigh, she pushed the dress back toward her maid. She was more comfortable in the long gowns she wore now, but it just went against her nature to ruin something this beautiful with grass stains.

  “It’s a gift from King Zeth. He ordered several dresses delivered for you.” With a militant expression on her plain face, ArDell held the dress out. “With everyone looking at you today, don’t you want to look especially beautiful?”

  Melodie blushed at the reminder of the gossip concerning her marriage. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed for the soft, shimmery underdress. “Don’t you ever get tired of being right all the time?”

  When she was dressed, she headed for the main hall. She couldn’t stand looking at ArDell’s smirking face another minute. The Mafia could take lessons from her on blackmail, Melodie thought without rancor. The anticipation of seeing JarDan had her smiling long before she reached the deserted hall. Maybe after she surveyed the damaged garden she’d look for him. She tried to remember if he mentioned his plans for today, but her memories of last night centered on their bed and the long hours they spent making love.

  Making love! That’s what was different. The first time, Torak’s drug controlled her actions. She made no conscious decision to sleep with JarDan. It wouldn’t have made any difference who she was with that night. Last night, it was her choice. She decided to accept her marriage. She chose to deepen the intimacy between them. She admitted she was in love with her husband.

  Melodie swayed against a chair near the fireplace. She was in love with her husband, but neither of them spoke the words last night. Not from her -- and not from JarDan. Oh, he told her constantly how much he wanted her and how they were destined to be together, but he never said he loved her. Her head told her to accept his affection and respect, but her greedy heart, once so dead set against him, now screamed for the
one thing he hadn’t offered -- his love.

  Feeling a desperate need to be alone, Melodie headed for the one place in the castle where she felt at peace. Strange how the garden affected her mood. There was always a sense of well-being and security among the profusion of vibrant blossoms. No place else made her feel that way -- not even her own bedroom.

  She wandered among the plants, letting her thoughts tumble over and over each other as if seeking some order of their own. She was no closer to a solution when Tiana found her.

  “I wanted to come to see your handiwork firsthand.” Tiana said with malicious acid. “You’ve ruined Arica’s garden.”

  “It was an accident, Tiana,” Melodie defended quietly; “you know that. If you’re so concerned about the roses, you’re welcome to help with the repairs.” She picked up the pruning shears from where she left them yesterday and began filling a basket with blooms for their table in the great hall hoping Tiana would take the hint and leave her alone.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Tiana retorted with a quick look around the garden. “I’ve never liked it here. This place gives me chills.” With a delicate shudder she followed Melodie through the garden.

  “Oh?” Melodie asked in genuine surprise. “I’ve always felt at peace here.”

  “Yes,” Tiana agreed in mock sympathy, “JarDan told me how out-of-place you are here … inferior was the word he used, I believe. Of course, we both had quite a laugh about that. He was saying just this morning at breakfast how amusing you little attempts at being a princess are to everyone.”

  Melodie gritted her teeth and forced the angry words back down her throat. She refused to get into an argument with a spoiled, spiteful teenager. Even if that teenager did come packaged in a body any grown woman would envy.

  “JarDan’s a marvelous companion at meals, isn’t he?” Melodie smiled flatly at Tiana. “He always knows just what to say to keep the conversation interesting.”

  The younger woman blinked several times reminding Melodie of an owl just waking up -- one that didn’t know where he was.

  “Y-yes,” Tiana stuttered, “now that he’s sharing breakfast with me again, we have some really … interesting … conversations -- usually about you and whatever stupid stunt you’ve pulled recently.”

  Give the kid a cigar. She regroups fast.

  “Glad to be of service, dear.” Melodie replied with saccharin sweetness. “We wouldn’t want you bored now would we?”

  “Don’t you care that you’re ruining JarDan’s life?” Tiana yelled.

  Shame on you, Melodie Anne, you’re not playing her game and now you’ve made her angry. “I’d probably care more if JarDan were standing here throwing a fit; but since you’re the only one in a snit, no, I can’t say as I care at all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

  Tiana turned and ran from the rose garden without a backwards glance. Melodie continued gathering the roses, letting her temper grow with each snip of the shears. The nerve of that little witch! Someone should have tanned her backside years ago to teach her some manners. Melodie didn’t know why, but she didn’t believe for a minute that JarDan would talk about her to others. She trusted him with her secrets and if he had talked to anyone, it was for a very good reason. She wouldn’t put it past Tiana to listen at keyholes. That was more her style.

  What other secrets did the pampered princess have access to with her sneaking around? The more she thought about Tiana taking advantage of the affection she received from the men of Tor, the angrier she got. Without realizing her intent, or her destination, Melodie found herself at the entrance to the practice field.

  JarDan was leading his warriors in their never-ending practice with swords and bows. His massive chest glistened with his exertion. The thick mat of hair exposed by the deep opening of his vest curled wetly from the sweat that trailed down toward his waist. Her obsession with her husband’s torso almost made her forget the reason for being here. One warrior made a risqué comment about JarDan’s lack of stamina and his exercise of last night. In his defense, she knew the man didn’t know she was standing there, but that didn’t lessen her blush nor did it cool her temper.

  Stalking across the walled end of the suddenly quiet practice field toward JarDan, she was unaware of the dangerous picture she presented with the garden shears gripped in her hand and fury in every bristling step.

  There was a stone walkway leading from one of the doors in the wall out onto the field. The ground on either side was rough and uneven and before she was aware of it, her ankle twisted, throwing her off balance. Grabbing at a rope hanging beside the walkway, Melodie struggled to regain her footing.

  The rope didn't open the door -- it was the release for the floodgates. The sudden flood of rushing water scooped her off her feet and sent her shooting down the stone walkway like the water slides she’d seen on Earth.

  Her scream and JarDan’s shouted warning were both lost in the roar of the water. When she finally reached the practice field, JarDan and most of his warriors were stumbling around in the mud looking for lost weapons.

  Still shaking from her wild ride, Melodie carefully moved each arm and leg, making sure all the parts worked. Other than a missing shoe and a torn dress, she seemed to be nothing more than wet. She still had the pruning shears in her hand. Good Heavens, girl, you could have cut your fool throat with these things.

  “Melodie!” Yelled JarDan, making his way toward her. “Are you hurt?”

  “No, I think I’m okay. It hurt my pride more than anything else. Can you help me up? This dress weighs a ton when it’s wet.”

  He lifted his soggy wife out of the mud, trying hard to control his temper. “Melodie?” He questioned with forced patience. “What are you doing on the practice field?”

  “I came looking for you. You know you should talk to somebody about putting a lock on that door. Someone could get hurt. It seems sort of dumb to disburse all that rainwater onto the field where your men practice. They’ll get all muddy.”

  “That retaining wall was designed specifically for battle training. It isn’t always nice and sunny when you go to war. Why are you looking for me?” By the Beard of the Prophet, he’d never laid a hand on any woman in anger, but in his present mood, there might be a first time.

  “You mean you deliberately pour water all over the ground just so you can fight in the mud? Do you have any idea how much extra work that makes for the laundry and the …”

  “Melodie!” His bellow had the desired effect. “I do believe you’ve caused enough trouble for one morning, so why don’t you run on back to the castle and change clothes -- and try to find something to do that doesn’t destroy anything else.” The Prince of Tor, trained intact and diplomacy, knew the very instant when he pushed his beautiful wife too far.

  “Don’t you dare talk to me like I’m a … a … wife! For your information, I tripped, you jackass! I could have broken my leg but all you’re worried about is your stupid practice field. I came out here because I was concerned about something. Something that could be serious, but all you can do is yell at me. Fine. You figure out who’s spying on you.”

  JarDan didn’t want to yell at her. He wanted to grab her up and pack her in cotton so she’d never be hurt. When he saw her rushing at him down the aqueduct, his heart nearly choked him to death. The woman was making him insane.

  He grabbed her by the arm when she started back toward the castle. He’d long since come to the conclusion that Melodie’s mind worked like no other’s -- and, for the most part, he loved that about her. However, this time she even had him at a loss as to what she was talking about.

  “You can’t make a statement like that and just leave.”

  “Sure I can. Just let me go and I’ll show you. No. On second thought, you’re going to listen to what I have to say.” She was in a full rage now and she wasn’t going to take a chance on him defusing her temper until she had her say. When he opened his mouth, she held up her hand.

  “Don’t
talk, just listen,” Melodie interrupted. “The next time you decide to tell someone about my insecurities you better make damn sure there’s no one listening at the keyhole! You got that straight?” She punctuated her words with the index finger of her left hand to the middle of his chest.

  “For that matter, what right do you have to tell anyone something that I told you in confidence? Does your word mean so little? You keep telling me to trust you and now I hear all about our conversations from other people. Make up your mind!”

  “Hold it!” JarDan yelled grabbing the hand she was using to punch his chest. “What in the name of all the Prophets are you ranting about?”

  A month ago, Melodie would have been terrified of the tall giant towering a good six inches or more above her with the fierce scowl drawing his brows together. It was a measure of her trust in him that she knew he would never retaliate against her display of temper. It was that knowledge that cooled her anger and softened her tone.

  “About you telling someone that I don’t fit in here, that’s what.” She whispered, looking around her at the gathered warriors. Poor JarDan thought she was angry with him. She wasn’t. Well, maybe just a little, but she just didn’t know any other way to warn him about Tiana’s tales. “I hear you got a big laugh at all my stupid mistakes.”

  “Melodie …”

  The stricken look on his face did more to calm her rioting emotions than all the screaming in the world. She took a deep breath for control and blinked as his expression changed from shock to black, blinding rage.

  “Who dares …?”

  “JarDan,” Melodie pulled her hand from his grasp and rested it against the dark curls on his chest, unconsciously flexing her fingertips into the soft hair, “I don’t think you knowingly betrayed my confidence, at least not without good reason. The fact that someone else knows tells me your private conversations aren’t very private. Next time, be sure you know who’s in hearing distance.”

  Suddenly aware of the curious stares and knowing grins of the men on the field, she flushed and turned to pick her way through the muddy field. When her forward progress abruptly halted with a hard jerk on her head, she turned to find JarDan gripping the end of her braid. The man had actually grabbed her by the hair of her head! Jimmy Dale Higgins was the last one to grab her braid -- and that was when they were in the sixth grade. She blacked Jimmy Dale’s eye too and he never tried it again. She still didn’t like it. So much for not losing her temper.