Crimson Bird 2

by L B Keen

  Cursing, Fitz faced her, angry. “You’ve no idea how it pained me to not take you in my arms then, and run from that which we both dreaded. Your father threatened…”

  “You should have come!” Gwen shouted, her eyes red from holding back tears. Her emotions were shaken from the three months of no contact with Talon. Her calm was at an end. “You should have defied my father, the House of Echimedes and Carthage. None should have stood in your way. I awaited you in the pouring rain, Fitzwilliam! Humiliated and forsaken, I foolishly believed you would come, only to learn you were too busy whoring to come for the one you claim to love!”

  She swallowed, her throat working against her desire to screech. When next she spoke, her voice softened. “You could have shown me the common decency of a gentleman by writing your rejection. At least then I would not have been fool enough to expect a coward such as you to take me away from this world, and its false kindness.”

  On that note, she turned and marched away, brushing away the angry tears that left her eyes. She had been damned to this fake engagement by his doing. She would be damned if he appeared now demanding her love, humph. She knew what he wanted—the throne—for all those related to the line of Echimedes thoughts were always about the throne. She was growing heartily sick of being used by those around her.

  Watching Gwen’s retreat, Fitz allowed a chuckle to escape him before quickly stifling it. Before he turned, his eyes hardened. If it took him working along with his mother’s mad scheme to regain Gwen’s hand and her favor, then he would abandon all his morals. Though he felt a pang of guilt, he quickly squashed it. Royal vampires such as he had no need for guilt. No, they only needed to take what they wished and he would do so. He would take the throne, Gwen and everything else that laid in his sight.

  Leaving the palace, he plotted what he would do in order to prevent Talon’s return, especially if his mother’s plot fell through.

  Two weeks later…

  Talon felt the hot heat that beat down upon him as he exited the sedan, the man having lowered it so that he could alight from it. He squinted, the smells and sounds seeming louder than in his own cold land. Watching brown skin children running barefoot here and there, their smiles bright and eyes in varying shades of brown. He couldn’t help wondering at the difference of his own kingdom. England was vastly cold and quiet in comparison.

  The hot scent of food from the merchants who sold food from their carts seduced his senses, attempting to pull him so that he would try the foreign land’s food. The kingdom of Katari wasn’t a place anyone was invited to. In truth, after the debacle with his falling off the face of the earth, his father had made it clear he was sick of his vendetta of vengeance, though only a small few knew of it.

  He’d failed, in the long run, to hide it from his father, but Talon didn’t care one way or another. As long as the public of London believed him to be some form of a golden prince, he would continue in his plans of taking out the leaching queen and her damned sons.

  A flash of solemn brown eyes greeted his determined vow, and inwardly, he felt the ice in his veins still. It’d been three long months and he could barely stand the idea of never seeing her again. Bastard that he was, he still steadily wished for just a glimpse of her, though he knew it was impossible.

  There wasn’t a chance in hell he would take her back so that he could only show his cruel side to her. The witch who’d intruded had promised that Bird would no longer remember him. It was his foolish wish to take advantage of that if given a chance. To draw her to his side and take the place his vaunted brother held in her heart. That was the crutch if the matter. She’d loved his brother.

  Though he’d possessed her body first, he felt his mouth dry at the remembrance of the taste of her blood; he still felt the ghost cravings.

  “You will be meeting with the king in a few minutes. Remember to keep your eyes lowered till he gives you permission to speak with him.”

  Dragged from his pattern of thoughts, Talon narrowed on the servant. The dark skin and white turban made his teeth seem brighter in the light of the welcome chamber.

  He straightened to his full height. “You wish for the Crown Prince of England to play servant?”

  The man stiffened. “If you do not wish to meet him, then you may leave.” He stiffly motioned to the large doors behind him. “It is prince’s choice to stay or go.”

  Swallowing the sharp words, he wanted to rain down on the ill-behaving servant’s head. Talon gave a short nod. “I will enter.”

  Hearing this, the rude man turned around, and walking towards the door, pushed it. The heavy doors creaked loudly, as the sound of shouting was heard on the other side, as whoever was on the side announced his entrance.

  “Talon, Prince of England, is here for your majesty,” a large man intoned. He held a staff, his turban was a bright red color, and his eyes were heavily lined with kohl. Talon wondered if he was one of the rumored eunuchs who served the King of Katari

  “So, the cold ones have sent another one to take that which does not belong to them,” a deep, raspy voice said aloud.

  Hearing this, Talon’s eyes moved from the eunuch to the large male who sat on a golden carved throne. Its opulence was obnoxious, but the man who occupied said chair wore a simple white shirt that was long over loose fitting white pants. His hair was wrapped and pulled up away from his face. He stared with hard eyes at Talon, his dark skin deep and rosy from the sun.

  “My people have no intention of taking from you. King Alam, we merely wish to create a fruitful relationship between yourself and our own monarchy.”

  “Hah!” King Alam shouted as he stood, his tall frame bellied his strength. “Your people from the north come with smiles and hidden daggers. Each time my father, Alam the second, allowed your people entry,” he motioned to the palace, “there was no rest for either the poor or the rich. The country who stole my beloved, now wishes an alliance?” He chuckled, slowly descending from his dais. “I will never allow any of you cold ones access to our metal or our people…but, you may enjoy our county’s entertainment.” He added with a sudden smile, “That, is all I will offer you, vampire.”

  Meeting the determined yet hard stare, Talon gritted his teeth. His father had not given him an easy task. Seeing the stalwart posture of the Katari King, Talon knew he had a fight on his hands. And frankly, he was not sure he had the ability to convince such a man to hand over such a precious resource.

  Talon relaxed his stance. “I’ve no design on what is yours, sire.” He gave Alam an easy smile, “It is merely a relationship my country desires, and with that relationship, we wish access to your mines. I will eagerly take advantage of the distractions you offer.” For what he offered was truly a distraction. “I will hopefully continue my attempt in convincing you that the offer we propose is of a noble nature.”

  Alam narrowed his eyes on the vampire. This man before him wasn’t weak chinned like the ambassador that had come before him. He met his gaze with a hard one of his own. Insolent, but…stronger than the rest who’d come demanding his metal. He glanced at Vasir, who gave a short nod. Turning his heavy gaze on the other male, he grunted. “You are insolent, but…we will see if you can last, cold one. Katari is not a place for the weak-willed.”

  He turned his back to the insolent vampire, only to pause in his return to his throne with the door behind him opened.

  “Father!” a voice he’d learned to cherish called out. As Alam turned, so did the vampire.

  Talon glanced over his shoulder to see the door reveal a female he hadn’t thought to ever see again. Her soft brown eyes mixed with a purple light were wide with excitement that dimmed slightly when they landed on him. She walked forward, her heavy white skirts revealing her legs at every step she took.

  The lips that stretched into a smile revealed pearly whites, those he’d kissed, had taken with fevered need brought about by the sweet scent that drifted to him now as she passed him with barely a glance.

  “Kahlia, w
hat are you doing here?” the king demanded, his hands outstretched to his returned eldest daughter.

  Taking his hands, the woman smiled up at the larger male. Their resemblance was close, and Talon felt his stomach clench painfully as the woman he desired…hungered for…loved, spoke. “I couldn’t wait to tell you I’d managed to ride Aamir.”

  Alam blinked, taken aback by his daughter’s excited exclamation. Aamir was his own stallion. Though not many people would ride a horse further into the desert lands that stretched beyond Katari’s capital, Alam hadn’t denied his children’s demands for a horse. Aamir had been his own, and the horse wasn’t known to be easy to anyone’s hands, only his own.

  Slowly, pleasure at his daughter’s success caused the corner of his lips to lift, as he lifted a hand and patted her on her shoulder in approval. “It couldn’t have been easy…”

  She nodded, barely able to stop her fidgeting. “He tried to fight, but I wore him out.” She would have continued to speak, but the voice of the vampire interrupted them.

  “I wouldn’t wish to further intrude.” With a low bow, straightening, he added, “I will return in the morn to speak with you further on this issue.”

  “Ah, yes.” Alam gave a short nod, watching the stiff retreating form of the prince before turning his attention back to his eldest daughter.

  Meanwhile, as soon as Talon was beyond the doors and was sure there were no servants to observe, he felt his knees weakened as he brought a shaking hand to his face in an effort to stem the rush of emotions running through him.

  She was alive?

  She was alive.

  She was alive!

  Bird, the woman he was sure he would never meet again had strode past him, not only alive, but with the pink shine of health upon her cheeks.

  Bird was alive…and she was the daughter of the king of Alam?

  He stiffened as his realization of who she was deepened further. With the realization came the bone crushing awareness that she would never be his…ever.

  Chapter Three

  Walking along the sand dunes of the hot Katari desert, Kahlia’s feet were bare as the hot sand felt more comforting than painful to her. Her eyes roamed over the rolling hills of golden sand with its hidden depths of shadows. She yearned for such freedom in her own country, and now here, in this foreign place, she had gained it.

  The wind whipped up, causing the scarf that covered her lower face to shake, making the little bells that had been sewn into the edge jangle in a low musical tone.

  Her eyes searched the broad blue sky for a wisp of cloud. As she moved along the top of the dune, she smiled when she heard the noise of a loud screech.

  A shadow flew over her, its broad wings spread wide. She lifted her eyes to see it but shaded them from the bright sun. Lifting her right arm, she raised it. “Will you not come to me, Kartush?”

  Kartush was a large falcon. His grey feathers had been dyed at the tail a reddish color to denote he belonged to the royal family. She held her breath as he came close, his broad wings covering her completely.

  “Kartush!” she called once more as he descended. She worried that he would land on the ground ignoring her completely as he’d done several times before. So, she whispered a silent prayer this time, closing her eyes slightly against her negative thought that he wouldn’t come.

  But suddenly, her leather bound right arm felt heavy and she pulled her head back to not be hit by his wings. She laughed aloud. “You’ve finally come to me!” She lightly brushed her finger under his beak, as he made chirping sounds and clucked. He was heavy, but she would gladly handle the weight.

  “Princess!”

  Hearing her name, Kahlia didn’t turn as she knew who it was calling so loudly.

  “Princess Kahlia!” With panting breath, a young woman ran up the side of the dune towards Kahlia. Her panting could be heard sprinkled liberally through her continuous calling for princess Kahlia.

  Kahlia, after making endearing noises to Kartush, slowly lowered her arm and jerked it up to release the falcon once again into the air. Reveling in his flight, she finally turned to face the exhausted young woman. “Fi! How did you manage to find me? I’m pretty sure I bribed Abi to watch my bedroom door.”

  “Princess Kahlia!” Fi snapped, snapping straight, her dark brown eyes narrowed on Kahlia. “You cannot, no,” she said with a shake of her head. “You mustn’t leave the palace alone.”

  “I much prefer it if you called me Bird,” Kahlia said. Kahlia, or more so Bird, had been brought to this country in a coma. She awakened to an entirely new world. Saved from the cruel hand of the Wellings, she’d awoken to a mother, a father and an entire kingdom. Honestly, she was having a bit of trouble getting used to the idea of no longer being a servant, and now owning one…or two, if one counted her bodyguard.

  Thinking of her bodyguard, she looked around Fi. Not seeing the solemn male, she blinked. “And where is Dua?”

  Dua was a large solemn man, who’d suffered from a fire years ago. The left side of his face was completely burned. He’d originally been a gladiator, a fighter on the streets of Rome. Not much was known about his background, but his pale skin and dark brown hair were noticeable. Despite the heat of the sun, his skin never grew darker. His eyes that he allowed them to see were a rusty-burnish color. He’d been purchased by her father the minute she’d returned and was given to her to protect her from those who’d wished to harm her.

  Bird couldn’t think of who would wish to harm her, as she was a bit of a surprise to everyone. But she chose to be understanding and learn the ways of her people.

  “I am here, Princess,” came the deep voice from behind her.

  She stiffened but didn’t turn. She sighed instead. “I would behoove you to make noise, Dua.” She whipped around and glared up at him. “If it weren't for the fact I knew you were no fun, I’d suspect you of purposely trying to surprise me.”

  When Dua didn’t laugh or blink at her joking, she slowly wilted. Dropping her hands from her waist, losing her bravado, she turned away from him and started trudging her way back towards the city R’or in the distance.

  “Let’s return,” she announced, as she glanced up at the falcon that leisurely floated in a circle above them. Kartush would follow her easily. “I wish to try my hand at Aamir today!” she declared with energy.

  Fi groaned at the princess’ excitement. The princess may be excited, but she would have to answer for every bruise and cut Kahlia sustained once the head priestess returned from Egypt.

  ***

  Interrupting the conversation between her father, the king, with the representative from the North had not been her intention. But, she hadn’t been able to repress her excitement at finally succeeding at her quest to ride Aamir. The horse had a reputation amongst the groomsmen to be bad-tempered and uncooperative to any other’s hand side from the king’s. She’d finally accomplished something that her half-brothers had yet to achieve.

  The servants opened the door at her arrival and her eyes landed on the back of a tall male who seemed familiar, but like a faint memory. As he turned around at her entrance, she felt more than saw his reaction to her. Where at first his expression had seemed open, it closed, his eyes lowering and avoiding her gaze.

  “Kahlia!”

  Hearing her name, her attention was taken by her father. Alam was a tall, robust male. His dark skin was clear and smooth, as was his smile. Though one did not see it often, he greeted her with love, a purple color rising in the dark blacks of his eyes. He reminded her of a tall and strong oak tree.

  He greeted her fondly and eagerly listened to her exclaim about her success. She was so caught up in her excitement when the vampire interrupted, she felt her attention immediately caught by him. As he said his farewell abruptly and left the hall, she watched him go, unable to hold back the rush of curiosity that came with his departure.

  She turned back to Alam. “Has he come for the same reason as the others?”

  The happi
ness in the king’s eyes dimmed as he thought about their visitor. He let go of her hands and rested his own behind his back. “Yes, he, like the others, wish to use our metals.” Seeing her worried look, he shook his head. “But that is not for you to worry about.” He frowned as if something had suddenly occurred to him. “Were you not supposed to be in the lessons with your cousins?”

  Lips parting, Bird prepared herself to tell the lie she had worked an inordinate amount of time on all in an effort to convince her father she’d had a very, very important reason as to why she had to skip lessons. But before she could speak, she heard the loud, high pitched screech she’d chosen to avoid.

  “KAHLIA!”

  Blanching, Bird slowly turned around and found the sight of an older woman with pinched features glaring at her from the doorway. “Fadi…,” she said, her voice lowered.

  The older woman’s eyes narrowed on her. They were sharp in their light violet color, as she marched forward. Her back ramrod straight, she approached the king and Bird with a stiff expression. Bird, contrite, didn’t speak, as she greeted the king with the traditional hand over heart and lowered head. As Fadi was the king’s eldest aunt, she did not have to lower herself fully to the floor.

  “King Alma,” is how she began her long lecture, “I wish to know if you truly wish for Princess Kahlia to continue with training,” she asked, shooting bird a fulminating look. “She skips her lessons and avoids all my council. In truth, she by large is a distraction to the younger women. She blatantly refuses to bend to the natural law that is provided for the females of your great nation. She behaves with the mind of a Bhata. I cannot teach one who refuses to come to lessons, and runs the desert like Gahimi.”