Seeing her hands shake and the fear in her eyes, Zaraki felt all the anger and outrage of the past weeks boil over. What more? What else did she have to suffer? “Stay here.” He jumped to his feet and strode across the camp, towards where Lukas and Lorant lay out of sight.
Cursing, Aniska looked at Irion and jerked her head for him to follow. “Don’t let him kill them. Yet.”
Just one. Zaraki had always promised himself that, given the opportunity, he would only hit Lukas once. Because any more than one and he could not be sure he would stop. He crossed to the tree where the prince sat tied.
Standing watch, Jan saw him coming and saw the anger flashing across his friend’s face. Arms crossed, he did nothing but watch. When Irion appeared, Jan motioned for him to wait. Whatever Zaraki had planned, they would not interfere. He did not care in the slightest what happened to either of the prisoners.
Lukas looked up just as Zaraki’s fist caught the side of his face. It hurt like hell. Why did he always forget how much hitting someone hurt? Yet it felt so good to take even a small measure of revenge. For all those months in Lida with Lukas being an insufferable prick. For the last month. For the torment and anguish he saw in his wife’s beautiful, haunted eyes now.
“Why is she bleeding?” he shouted, outraged. This should never have happened. None of it.
Lukas shook his head and grimaced. With his hands tied, he could not ward off another blow or check to see the damage done. He tried to turn aside.
Getting no answer, Zaraki bent over and grabbed the other man by his fine clothes, wondering what sort of idiot dressed like this when trying to smuggle an unconscious woman across the countryside. “From her nose. Why is she bleeding?” he demanded.
Behind him, he heard Lorant speak up. “It happened once or twice before,” he said, his voice frightened and small. “They said it would if we didn’t give her enough to drink. But it was easier not to.”
Incredulous, Zaraki looked over his shoulder, incapable of understanding how either of these two had managed to plan and execute this kidnapping.
When he turned back, Lukas nodded at him, still working his jaw. “Then she refused to eat or drink for days.”
Mouth open, all Zaraki could do was stare as Lukas sat in front of him trying to blame Leisha for this.
“You know I’m going to fucking kill you, right? For what you did, I’m going to kill you. Remember that every breath you take is a blessing and that they’re numbered.” Disgusted, he let go of Lukas and stood. He saw Jan and Irion grinning as he stormed back.
Aniska met him at the edge of the clearing. “It’s all right, really. It’s only a nosebleed and it stopped already. She’s thirsty and starving, Zaraki. A few days of food and water and she’ll be fine. Do you need me to look at it?”
“No,” he said, wincing and rubbing his sore hand. “I didn’t hit him that hard.”
“Do you feel better?”
He did, but as he suspected, one did not satisfy him. “When it’s time, you get Lorant.”
“Deal. Eli is with her. Go.”
Zaraki saw them across the little clearing. Sitting on a cloak to protect her dress, she held her knees pulled up to her chest, facing away from him. Eli sat next to her and poured water over a cloth. He ran it over her forehead and her cheeks, cleaning off the grime of two weeks of captivity and two days’ traveling. When he tried to swipe the cloth over her bruised chin, she jerked away, nearly tumbling backwards.
“Sorry, Your Highness.”
Moving to sit behind her, Eli pulled out the comb Danica packed along with ribbons and hairpins. When they left Cheylm, Zaraki could not fathom or care why she sent them. He only wanted to save Leisha. Now he understood this had turned from rescue to recovery. She needed to return to her kingdom looking like a queen, not a captive.
Walking over, he crouched down beside them both. “I can do it if you have something else that needs doing.”
“I have three daughters.” For Eli, it served as a lengthy explanation. With long, slow strokes, he carefully pulled the comb through Leisha’s hair, working out the knots as he went. “Gabina usually styles their hair, Your Highness. Perhaps just pin it back?”
“That’s fine. Thank you, Eli,” she said.
He grabbed the set of pins and used them to fasten her hair off her face. At the head of each perched a hawk or pigeon, an eagle or sparrow, made from the same metal and enameled in bright colors. Zaraki thought it looked like an entire flock of fanciful birds had come to roost in her hair and knew it would be perfect for their return. He feared they did not pay Danica enough.
“All done, Your Highness.”
Zaraki offered her his hand and helped her to her feet. They walked a few steps towards where the others stood eating the remains of breakfast. Leisha stopped and turned back.
“You don’t have to call me that, Eli.”
When breakfast finished, everyone climbed into their saddles, eager to complete this journey. They stopped only a few times to rest the horses and stretch tired legs. Along the way, the rescue party met another patrol heading out from the castle, and Ani added them to the escort. Now, thirty men on horseback rode with them, and she thought they made a proper escort for a queen and the grim, determined hero who rode behind her on Capar’s broad back.
Like the previous days, Ani watched Leisha riding in stiff silence. If asked a question she responded, but offered no conversation of her own. Often she closed her eyes and feigned sleep. When she saw the towers of Cheylm rising up from the plains, Aniska sent Irion ahead to bring the news, hoping Leisha could bear up through this part. They had to set the army right and give them all a chance to see her, cheer for her and feel a part of this moment.
Though his smile told everyone the news as Irion passed through the camp and into the courtyard, he shouted and waved, “They’re right behind me. She’s alive!” Servants raced to find Andelko and Symon.
When the little party rode into view, soldiers already lined the route. Smiling, they cheered and clapped as they caught sight of them.
Leisha forced herself to acknowledge the crowds of men waiting to see for themselves. They pressed forward, parting only to let the horses through. She pasted a smile on her face and tried to wave, but inside her thoughts writhed with fear. Every shadow held danger. All around, a sea of strangers surged like the tide coming in, and any of them, any of them, could be there to kidnap her. Swallowing hard, she tried to compose herself and act like a queen. There was a time her fear would have made her angry, but now it made her feel hunted, stalked.
Zaraki felt her trembling and urged Capar through the gates. On the steps to the main door, Symon stood with Andelko, both looking anxious and drawn.
Lost
Leisha slid down Capar’s side and into Symon’s embrace. One arm went around her shoulders while the other cradled her head as he blinked away tears. They should have done this inside, but protocol be dammed. People in the courtyard cheered and jostled to see. Huddled in the doorway behind him, Danica and the other maids wept openly. “Thank the gods,” he said, his voice muffled in her hair. “My darling girl. I can’t tell you how happy I am you’re all right.”
She leaned against Symon, her eyes closed, trying to will away the urge to bolt inside. “I thought I’d never see you again,” she said against his shoulder as tears threatened again. I thought I was going to die, and now I think I’m mad. The words sprang up unbidden, and she clenched her teeth against them.
Standing nearby, Andelko waited his turn, looking stoic. He hugged her when Symon let go and tried several times to say something. Nothing felt adequate to express his relief and joy at seeing her alive again. There was so much he wanted to say and so much he could never tell her. Finally, he gave up, satisfied with just crushing her in his embrace.
Beyond the walls, the soldiers began taunting and jeering at Lukas and Lorant as they were led through the crowd. For three days, Leisha had ridden in front of the men, kept from seeing them.
The prospect of coming face to face with either set her heart to racing. I can’t do this. They’ll all see.
The safety of the castle called to her. Outside, she felt vulnerable, exposed, as if danger lurked everywhere. When Andelko finally stepped back, Zaraki took her hand, looking torn between staying with her and seeing to Capar.
“Go. Take care of your boy,” Symon said, seeing his indecision. “Let me take her inside.”
“Yes, I’m tired,” Leisha lied, feeling overwhelmed and panicked. She wanted to get out of this with her dignity intact. “I think I’d like to go lay down. Come find me when you’re done.” Her smile looked as insincere as her words sounded, but Symon offered his arm anyway and she took it.
As they turned, he sent Danica to draw a hot bath. Tearfully, she curtsied and ran off.
“Bath and bed, my dear.” He put his arm around Leisha’s shoulders and led her through the hall. Servants came away from the doors and windows they had watched her arrival from, following their progress.
“Should I call your doctor?” he asked as they climbed the stairs.
Leisha shook her head. “No, I’m not hurt.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her trying to say more. Each time, though, she pursed her lips and kept silent. When they reached her apartment, she managed a quiet, “Symon?” before stopping herself and looking away, trying to blink back tears.
”Take all the time you need, my dear girl. Everything is in order here.”
Once Danica and the other maids had the small tub filled with scalding hot water, Symon turned Leisha over to them. He promised to stay in the bedroom and wait for them to finish with her, but after a few minutes, Danica emerged saying Leisha had asked for privacy. “Come then. Let’s do as she asks,” he said, ushering them all out and shutting the door.
Zaraki found her sitting in the cooling water. “Why are you here alone?”
“I’m sorry. It was overwhelming.” All them watching, waiting for her to do something. “I didn’t know what to say to them. What’s wrong with me?” Leisha bent her head to her hands and started weeping.
“Please, please don’t cry. This will get better. Here, get out of the cold water.”
He helped her stand and step out of the tub before wrapping a robe around her shoulders and scooping her up. She weighed so little, and his clothes were soaking wet when he laid her on the bed.
“Should I keep the maids out for now?” Zaraki asked as he sat next to her.
“Yes. Everyone. I don’t know how to face them.” Or their questions, she thought.
***
“How is she?” Andelko asked. He and Symon had gone in search of something stronger than wine to get fantastically drunk on when they caught Zaraki looking for dinner.
After a bath and changing into clean clothes, he felt almost human again. “She’s exhausted, traumatized and half-starved. But she’s alive, and that’s more than enough for me right now.”
“Of course. Lukas and Lorant?” Symon asked.
“I ordered them held in the cells below. They’re not getting any comfort from me, nobles or not. I don’t know what to do with them after that, though,” Zaraki admitted. In truth, he hated the thought of Lukas and Lorant sleeping, eating, existing under the same roof as Leisha. She deserved peace. “Maybe let her decide. We did go and kidnap a foreign prince from his own lands. There’s going to be consequences for that. I—I want to kill them, but I feel like that’s not what a king should do.”
Symon thought that was exactly what this king should do, but he knew better than to let his anger out right now. “Let’s send Andrzej a letter. He knows what Lukas did and has to know we’d take action. He can’t be surprised. They can rot in the cells below for now. Or forever, for all I care.”
***
Morning light filtered into the room, enough finally to wake Leisha. She opened her eyes and saw no sign of Zaraki in the room. For a brief and fleeting moment, everything felt right as she lay in her own bed, awake and alert, without the threat of the flowers hanging over her head. But then, she felt the fear as it came, creeping in unseen on silent feet. Her heart pounded in her chest and she looked around the room frantically, terrified of something she could not explain.
By the time she recognized it for what it was, an irrational, unnamed fright, her sweat-soaked body shook violently. She tried to take control, to tamp it down, but it raced ahead of her, squeezing her lungs, flooding her with adrenaline. Too late, she thought. Too late to stop it.
Her breath came in ragged gasps through clenched teeth. She wanted to hide, to cry, to beg all the gods she did not believe in to save her. Holding a fist to her mouth, she tried to muffle the sobs that sprang up along with the certain knowledge Gerolt had sent his men to stalk her, search for her, find her here. They would feed her the flowers, render her helpless, powerless, so she could not fight back. Then they would drag her away again.
Zaraki opened the door to find her huddled in their bed, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped tight around them. Tears streaked her face, and he could see her trembling from across the room.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, racing to her, setting down the basket of food on the small table by the bed. “I went to get breakfast. I didn’t think you’d be awake yet after last night.” They had been up for over an hour after the nightmares struck. He crawled on the bed and pulled her to his chest. “What is it? Are you all right?”
Her teeth chattered together as she shook, and she began to feel lightheaded as she hyperventilated. I’ve lost control. I can’t stop this, she thought.
Zaraki carefully sat back and drew her with him, peeling her arms from around her knees. He stroked her hair, careful to avoid her chin or jaw. “I’m so sorry I left you.” His hand ran over one shoulder, down her arm to her fingertips. Taking one hand in his, he stroked his fingers across her palm.
Wrung out and exhausted, her mind could not keep up its assault. She sagged against him. As her breathing returned to normal and the attack ebbed, Leisha could almost see how absurd the fear was. Here, in Cheylm, with an army arrayed before the gates, she could count herself safe. But what did this attack mean, then? If the fear was not rational, where did it leave her? Unstable? Irrational?
Mad.
Days passed, but they seemed to bleed into another for Leisha. She ate because Zaraki brought her food and drank because she hated being thirsty. Grudgingly, she gave into sleep at night, knowing she would wake up terrified when the nightmares visited her. He kept her maids away except when the rooms needed cleaning, and only if he was there and she was calm.
And she tried so hard to beat back the fear that assaulted her. Each failure to stop it eroded any confidence she felt. Worst of all, each failure confirmed her suspicions. What happened in the room in the keep in Embriel broke her, leaving her damaged, likely mad.
How else could she explain what she had become? Before this, she faced her fears, conquered them and used them to drive her on. Taking control of her fear served as a tool for her, moving her forward, motivating her actions. Fear made her angry. Anger fueled her need to win.
But now, the fear stalked her like a wolf. It hid in dark corners and sunlit windows, rearing up unexpectedly when footsteps sounded outside the door. She never knew when it would take her.
Worse, she hated the look on Zaraki’s face when he found her huddled in a ball on the bed, shivering and weeping. Weak, mad, she told herself. That’s all he sees when he looks at you. She refused to look at his thoughts, knowing his disappointment would shatter whatever of her remained.
Vowing to do better each time, she retreated into herself so no one would see their broken, disturbed queen.
***
“How is she?” Symon asked when Zaraki came down for dinner.
The younger man ran his hands through his hair and sighed. Four days after their return, and he loathed the question. They all cared and they all asked, sometimes more than once a day. He never knew how much he should sa
y, or if telling them how much Leisha suffered violated her privacy, which she guarded zealously now.
On top of that, Zaraki was exhausted. Weeks filled with worry and despair and very little sleep left him feeling splintered and stretched far too thin. The nightmares came every night. Leisha was not ready to see anyone, so he took all his meals with her in their rooms. If he did not watch, she ignored her food. He met with their inner circle of advisors and handled conflicts that escalated above Andelko or Symon and spoke for Leisha when needed. Mostly, though, he worried.
All he knew was it felt like he was losing her. The silence reminded him of the reserved, intensely private Leisha, who refused to share her life with anyone. He felt her withdrawal acutely. Even though she curled up next to him in bed every night and reached for him when the tears came, she never talked to him about what troubled her and never shared her fears.
“She’s haunted,” Zaraki said finally, looking at his hands and shaking his head. “I don’t know what happened there, and she isn’t ready to talk about it. I just wish I knew how to help her.”
“If this is surprising and confusing to you, imagine how it feels to her. She steered her entire life towards a singular goal—being queen. Now the whole of it is off course, her crown threatened, her freedom stolen. She’s used to being the master of her ship, and to find it all taken from her…” Symon shrugged, spreading his hands out in front of him. “We have to give her time to right the ship.”
“I know. It’s just hard to see and it’s hard— No, forgive me. I’m tired.” Zaraki turned and left the library without eating.
***
An hour later, Aniska found Zaraki sitting in a quiet, unused room. Strictly speaking, he counted as her employer, and she should try to maintain some distance, some degree of separation, according to the oaths they both swore as teenagers. But, in practice, it proved impossible. They had never clarified the relationship when she replaced him as spymaster. By an unspoken agreement, Leisha was her employer while he was something else. Friend, brother, equal. She was also a nosy busybody—a good trait to have in someone who made a living gathering information—so she continued to poke her nose into his life.
As Dragons from Sleep (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 2) Page 27
