Read The Dread: The Fallen Kings Cycle: Book Two Online

Authors: Gail Z. Martin

Tags: #FIC009020

The Dread: The Fallen Kings Cycle: Book Two (41 page)

“She is a—” Detri started to say “ghost whore” but Aidane drowned her out with a purposeful cough. “She has a talent with spirits,” Detri said after a stern mental rebuke from Aidane. “Remember me and the children, Jodd. I can’t come to you again, but I’ll watch over you and wait.”

Her message delivered, Detri’s spirit slipped away from Aidane, leaving Aidane momentarily light-headed. Jodd grabbed Aidane’s arm as she turned away.

“Was that some kind of trick?”

Still feeling the effects of the possession, Aidane pulled her arm free, trying not to move too quickly for fear she might faint. “No trick. I have a… way… with spirits.”

Jodd’s eyes narrowed. “Is it true? That Detri will never leave me?”

Aidane saw a trapped look in the man’s eyes that made her heart sink. “That’s what she said.”

Jodd swore. “By the Lady! I’m twenty and nine years old. Am I never to take another wife? Oh, Detri was all right, but we were young and my parents arranged it. I’d have stayed with her, for the children, if things had worked out differently, but now—”

Aidane felt her temper flare. “Now that she and your children are barely cold in their graves, you’ve already given thought to her replacement, is that it?” Aidane had always found that the moments just after a possession faded were difficult emotionally. A side effect of relinquishing control was sharper-than-usual feelings: joy, sorrow, fear. Now, the gap between Detri’s sorrowful faithfulness and Jodd’s desire to remedy his widower status sent a surge of anger through Aidane.

“I’m still alive, aren’t I? I didn’t mean I’d take a wife right away,” he said, taking a step back as he saw the anger in Aidane’s face. “Maybe not till the springtime—”

Aidane spat on the hard-packed dirt. “You don’t deserve Detri. It would serve you right if she crossed the sea without you. Pox take you.” At that, Aidane turned on her heel and left, paying no heed to the sputtering man behind her.

She was so worked up about Jodd’s faithlessness that she did not hear the footsteps behind her until the newcomer was close enough to lay a hand on her shoulder.

“Well, who do we have here?”

It took Aidane a moment to place the man who stood with a firm grip on her shoulder. She had seen him a few times at court and knew him to be the son of one of the lords. After another few seconds, she remembered which lord and felt uneasiness turn to fear. The man had the dark looks of his father, Lord Norden, a man whose coloring spoke of Trevath blood. She had seen Lord Norden make all of the appropriate gestures of support to the queen, yet the few times she had happened by when Norden was talking with his friends, the lord had been a sharp critic of the new queen and her unorthodox champion.
From what she had seen of Norden’s son, Antony, he was as critical and cynical as his father.

Aidane tried to shrug out of Antony’s grip, but the young man grabbed her by the arm and yanked her into an alcove where the tack was stored. “Let me go. I have business at the palace.”

“Whore’s business, is it? Friendly with the stable hands, too?” Antony pushed Aidane up against the rough wall of the tack room and let his fingers stroke her cheek. “You’re a pretty little trollop. I bet you’re a feisty wench between the covers.”

“Let me go!” Aidane gave a sharp kick against Antony’s shin, hoping he would drop his hold. He howled in pain but gripped her arm tightly enough to bruise and he slammed her back against the wall.

“You don’t have a choice.” His voice had lost its mock seduction. It had become as hard and cold as Antony’s eyes. “I’m a lord’s son, and you’re just a fancy whore. Now give me some of what you do for your clients, and if I’m satisfied, there might be a gold piece in it for you.”

Antony’s hand fell to her bosom, and Aidane took a sharp breath. The rage she had felt for the faithless Jodd swelled again, and with it, her power surged, drawing all of the woeful spirits to her she heard clamoring outside the city wall. She twisted away from Antony, but he brought his right hand down with a sharp crack across her cheek.

“Just for that, I won’t be gentle, and there’ll be no gold,” he hissed. “Hold still, or I’ll see you thrown out of the palace into the gutter where you belong. You’re an embarrassment to the court. My father can make it expensive for the queen to keep you. Do you really think she’d favor you if the price was her reputation?”

There was no one around to help her; even if someone had come upon them, Aidane doubted any of the servants would raise a hand to stop a lord’s son from having his way with a whore. Desperate, she opened herself to the press of spirits, letting them fill her. Their emotions swept over her, giving her the burst of strength she needed to break free of Antony’s grip. He lunged after her, and she grabbed the first thing that came to hand: a bit and bridle. She swung it hard, catching him across the temple and opening a gash on his forehead. He tore it from her hands and threw it across the room.

Antony cursed and lunged after her, catching her by the ankle. “When I’m done with you, whore, even Buka wouldn’t have enough pieces left to play with.”

The pounding of Aidane’s heart fed the swell of the spirits’ emotions. More spirits crowded to her, thrumming with borrowed energy. Aidane kicked at Antony and landed a heel on his shoulder. He grabbed at her free foot with his other hand, and the pressure was nearly enough to break bone. Aidane felt around desperately for something, anything to fend off her attacker. Her hand fell on one of the metal combs the groomsmen used to curry the horses. With a cry, Aidane used the spirits’ energy to heave Antony away from her, bringing the horse comb down hard on his hand when he reached for her. The sharp tines of the comb sank into his hand, starting a stream of blood.

She scrambled to her feet and ran for the door, yanking it open just barely ahead of Antony.

“I’ll fix you for this,” Antony shouted behind her. “Just wait. I’ll fix you.”

Aidane ran back across the servants’ courtyard and up
the back steps. By the time she reached her room, her arm had begun to ache and her eye was starting to swell shut. She closed the door behind her and collapsed against it, sobbing for breath.

I should have known it would come to this. I’m a whore. I don’t belong in a palace. I’ve done everything I can to help the queen; now I’m just a burden, and an embarrassment. The queen’s so young; she doesn’t need trouble from the likes of Lord Norden on top of the war and the Durim
.

Aidane took several deep breaths, steadying herself. She looked around the room. A maid had already laid out a dress for her to wear to the Sohan festival this evening. She felt a twinge of regret. The palace celebrations would be filled with magicians and conjurers doing sleight-of-hand tricks and real magic in celebration of the Feast of Changes. Men and women would exchange outfits and go about “changed,” parodying each other. Food, wine, and ale would be plentiful, and musicians would play for their costumed audience until the dawn.

I need to leave
. The truth was as clear as it was painful. Lord Norden’s son would not forget that she had bested him. He and his father were well positioned to make trouble at court for Berry. And though Berry had welcomed Kolin, Aidane knew that the welcome for
vayash moru
was always fragile at best. It wouldn’t take much for the court gossip to turn on Kolin, isolating the queen further.
Staying in the palace puts Kolin and the queen at risk. I can’t take the chance that harm will come to them because of me
.

Aidane sat down at the writing desk that stood beside the darkened window. Night had fallen, and already, beyond the window, Aidane could see the flickering of
newly lit bonfires in the courtyard. Everyone would be busy with the festival. They wouldn’t notice that she was gone until she was far away.

A knock at the door startled her. She ignored it, but the visitor knocked again. “Aidane? It’s Kolin. Let me in.”

Aidane gasped and looked down at her dress. It was dirty and torn from the scuffle in the stable, and she was almost certain her cheek had begun to purple. “I’m not ready,” Aidane called.

“Aidane?”

Aidane moved away from the writing table and turned her back to the door. “Come in.”

She did not turn to look as Kolin entered the room. Other than the click of the latch, he moved soundlessly, though how he managed to keep his boots from betraying his footsteps, she did not know. She smelled warm apple cakes and heard Kolin set something on the table by the fireplace.

“I happened to intercept the servant on her way up with some cakes for the feast night,” Kolin said. “I figured I’d bring them myself, since I was already on the way.”

“Thank you,” Aidane said, still refusing to turn.

Kolin chuckled. “Why so shy all of a sudden?”

“I… don’t feel well. I’m sorry. I’m really not fit for company.”

Kolin was beside her before she ever heard the rush of air that was the only warning of his movement. “What happened, Aidane? Something’s wrong.”

Aidane bit her lip, forcing back tears. “Nothing. Just… feast night jitters. Please, I’ll be all right—”

Kolin touched her shoulder and she winced, the memory of Antony’s grip too fresh in her mind. She let him
turn her to face him, saw his expression move from shock to rage, and felt the same lethal coldness that she had glimpsed when she had seen him fight the Durim.

“Who did this?”

“Please, don’t. It’s not important.”

Kolin’s voice was icy. “You are a personal guest of the queen, under her protection. Whoever did this didn’t just injure you; he struck a blow at the queen herself.” But in Kolin’s eyes, Aidane saw something she had never seen before, protectiveness.

Aidane felt the weight of the last few candlemarks come crashing down, overwhelming her reserve. She sank to her knees, holding Kolin’s hand. “Please don’t make a fuss. It’s not so bad. I don’t want to embarrass the queen. Please don’t—”

Gently, Kolin raised her up and met her gaze. He was angry enough to kill, of that, she was certain. “Tell me what happened.”

If he kills Lord Norden’s son, there’ll be the Crone to pay. Kolin will be sent away—or worse—just when the queen needs his protection most. She’ll be discredited, and Norden will make it all the harder for her to rule. I’m not that important
.

Aidane looked down, sniffing back the last of the tears. “I went down to the courtyard because a ghost called to me. Someone… jumped me… between the buildings. I got away from him.” She swallowed hard, embarrassed. “It’s over.”

Kolin stood so still that she might have thought him carved from stone. She knew he did not need to breathe, but now, he did not blink, or move at all. “Jumped you,” he repeated in a cold voice that told her he had filled in the
details she omitted. “On the palace grounds, someone tried to force you—”

“I’m just a whore, Kolin. It’s not like my virtue was at stake.”

“Sweet Istra, Mother of Shadows,” he murmured.

Against her will, the tears began to flow, and Kolin took a step closer, folding her into his arms and letting her cry against him. He was warm; she guessed that he had fed recently. “Have you seen a healer?”

“I don’t want there to be talk.”

Kolin steered her to a chair near the fire. He took a wash rag from the basin on the stand near the bed and wrung it out, and then he opened a window and held the wet rag in the cold night air for a few minutes. He walked back and knelt in front of her, gently holding the cold compress to the bruise on her cheek.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“It will take some of the sting out, at least. I’ll get the servants to bring up some herbs. I think I still recall how my mother made a poultice for my brother and me. We were always banging ourselves up,” he said, and went to the door, where he conferred in low tones with a passing servant. In a moment, he returned, and Aidane could tell from the look in his eyes that he had not abandoned the idea of retribution.

He said nothing until the servant brought him what he had requested. Kolin mixed a paste of herbs and gently spread the mixture with his fingertips on the worst of Aidane’s bruises and cuts. His touch was so gentle that Aidane struggled not to cry at the unaccustomed show of tenderness. When he was finished, Kolin sat back and met her gaze.

“Who did this?” he asked quietly.

Aidane looked down. “He threatened to create problems for the queen. He could make it difficult for you, too. Please, you can’t do anything.”

Kolin’s blue eyes had a haunted look. “I knew Elsbet’s father could be violent, but I didn’t think he’d really hurt her. I didn’t act quickly enough, and he killed her. I made that mistake once. I won’t make it a second time.” Kolin folded Aidane’s hand between both of his. “I promise you I won’t do anything before the festival tonight. But afterward, I need you to tell me the truth. I need to protect you and the queen.”

“Who will believe a whore’s word? If I were a noblewoman, someone might care about a threat to my virtue. But I’m not noble, or virtuous. I’ve heard the talk when people thought I wasn’t around. There’s no shortage of courtiers who would be glad to see me gone. You can’t risk the queen’s credibility. I’m not worth it.”

Aidane saw a stubborn glint in Kolin’s blue eyes. “Let me be the judge of that.” His expression softened, and he kissed her gently on the top of her head. “It’s time for you to get ready for the banquet.”

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