Allegiance Sworn (8 page)

Chapter 11

“T
HE
workers outside the wall need to be warned.”

Gone was the glacial fury within Imhara’s gaze, replaced in a heartbeat by concern. Arek blinked. Her control and skill in focusing her moods continued to surprise him.

“Barrca’s already seeing to it.” Rassan scooped up the journals from her work desk. “And I’ve sent the messenger to alert those within the fortress.”

Arek cocked his head to one side. “Why warn the workers?”

“Some of them are
Na’Chi
.” Imhara rounded the end of her desk. “There are a handful like Barrca and Rassan who can pass as
Na’Reish
, but most can’t risk being discovered.” Her black lips pressed flat. “Yur is a purist.”

“The
Na’Rei’s
Second advocates bloodline purity?” Arek snorted. “Savyr’s
Na’Chi
daughter must have put a strain on their relationship.”

“You know about Annika?” Imhara shared a look of surprise with Rassan.

Arek cursed his thoughtless response. Just because he’d agreed to listen to her, it was no excuse to become complacent.

“It’s good to hear Annika lives. I only met her a few times, but she showed such strength and courage, considering the life she endured at the Gannec fortress.” A small smile curved her lips. “Savyr claimed a Light Blade warrior killed her, an elderly healer, and two guards. At the time I thought it odd he’d admit to a prisoner escaping from his fortress, but if you know about her, then she and the Light Blade made it over the border. It also explains why Savyr tried to cover it up. Better to endure a little embarrassment than a loss of face.”

The distant ringing of a bell made Arek glance at the window.

“The watchtower has spotted Yur’s
Na’Hord
,” Rassan explained. “They’ve reached the fields. They’ll be at our gates in minutes.”

“Store the journals, then see Arek safely to the hidden room with the others.” Imhara began closing ledgers and placing papers into the draws of her desk.

“I’d rather he stayed here with you.”

She shook her head. “I won’t risk his safety.”

Blackness darkened Rassan’s gaze. “Yet you’ll compromise your own.” He held up a hand as she took a breath to protest. “Yur will dismiss a slave as a threat.”

“Arek’s had no preparation—”

“He spent a week travelling with Meelar.”

“Not good enough.”

“Imhara—”

Her sharp gesture cut him off. “No, Rassan.”

“You’d let pride take precedence over logic?” he challenged. “Risk the opportunity of taking Savyr down?”

“Pride?” Imhara’s eyes slitted. “This has nothing to do with pride.” Arek tensed as she stabbed a finger in his direction. “Exposing him to Yur is too great a risk.”

She closed the distance between them in half a dozen strides, stopping close enough so that Arek could see the deep purple striations in the iris of her eyes. Near enough to feel her body heat.

Her hand pressed against his abdomen, fingers spreading wide. Arek sucked in a shocked breath at her bold move. He almost backed away when he saw the corners of her mouth twitch. Stubbornly, he held his ground.

“Lower your gaze,
slave
.” The condescending tone had him clenching his jaw. She slid her hand over his ribs as she moved behind him. Every muscle locked tight at the heated slide of her hand touching him. “Unless invited, a slave never meets a
Na’Reish
eye to eye, no matter their rank. And your hesitation to comply with my order would be viewed as defiance. Both offenses invite punishment.”

A hard kick to the back of his legs sent him to his knees on the floor. She fisted a handful of his hair and jerked his head back. Training took over. He reached up to lock his fingers around her wrist. Swiveling on his knee, he twisted her arm and broke her hold. Using the momentum of his turn, he pushed her away from him, then surged to his feet.

Imhara backed off and raised her hands, the gesture a cessation of aggression.

“That is why I hesitate to agree to your request, Rassan. Not pride.” Her attention switched to him. “Arek, every second Yur is in the room with us, you’re going to be fighting your instincts. He’ll scent your hatred, your reluctance to follow orders, and he’ll enjoy provoking you until you respond. Unless you’re defending your master, laying your hand on me or any other
Na’Reish
could result in your death. Give Yur an excuse to demand punishment, and you put me in the position of having to follow through. I won’t put you in harm’s way.”

Arek met Rassan’s gaze, not bothering to hide his surprise at Imhara’s comment, unsure if he was disappointed or pleased he’d failed her test.

Shouts came from outside the window.

“Yur’s here.” Her expression twisted into a grimace, like she’d tasted something unpleasant. Tension tightened her voice. “Go now, both of you.”

Rassan inclined his head. “I’ll arrange for refreshments to be delivered once Yur is escorted here.”

Arek followed him from the library, wondering at the warrior’s compliance. Had that been Kalan, he’d never have given in, no matter how sound his argument. Plans were altered or adapted, not discarded when a leader’s safety was threatened.

For several minutes they walked the corridor in silence. After descending a flight of stairs, the murmurs of voices and the odors of freshly baked bread and roasting meat filled the air.

A wide archway at the end of the corridor opened into a large kitchen. A dozen people scurried around the room. Several workers looked up at their appearance; all smiled and called a greeting to Rassan that he returned.

Some were sitting on stools near large tubs of water, cleaning and peeling vegetables. Two youths stood to either side of the great fireplace, tending a spit and several huge pots with steam rising from them. One of them brought a stack of pans to a woman making dough on the benches along one wall. Two more sliced loaves of bread at the far end. They threw the pieces into giant baskets near their feet.

Organized chaos.

Rassan called a couple of the workers over. After handing over the journals to the younger of the two and asking her to deliver them to Imhara’s room, he asked for a fresh pot of
k’sa
. The second woman hurried off to complete the request.

Arek asked the question he’d been holding on to since leaving the library. “Is Yur likely to make an attempt on her life?”

That earned him a sideways look. “If he saw an opportunity to kill Imhara, he’d take it.” The low pitch of his voice vibrated with controlled anger. “He’s tried it before, although we’ve never been able to link any attempt back to him. He’s too careful.”

Arek nodded. “And with no heir, Savyr will appoint a successor to this Clan.”

“Yes.” One word, so heavy laden with emotion.

The
Na’Rei
would get what he desired—Kaal territory and easy access into human territory. Even with the Sacred Lake
Na’Chi
joining the ranks of the Light Blades, they would be grossly outnumbered if all the Clan
Na’Hord’s
combined.

Separate outcomes neither of them wanted. Inwardly Arek smiled wryly. Who’d have thought he’d share a common goal with a
Na’Reish
Clan leader? What an ironic twist in an already complicated situation.

“Then why did you let her dismiss you?” he asked.

“Arguing with Imhara when she’s set on a decision is a waste of breath. It’s better just to act.”

Arek frowned, confused. “How is retreating and leaving her to meet Yur alone taking action?”

“Imhara was right. A moment ago you weren’t ready to be her slave.” His dark gaze pinned him where he stood. “Tradition demands that Yur be extended the courtesy of this House. A human posing as a slave will deliver refreshments to them.”

Rassan’s meaning became clear.

“And you want that slave to be me?” Arek grunted. “But you just said I wasn’t ready.”

“She needs protection and you’re the only one able to do it without arousing suspicion.” Rassan’s regard never wavered. “Thanks to Imhara’s impromptu lesson, you now know what to expect. Her name and reputation will protect you. Just don’t give Yur any reason to take advantage of you.”

There was one major flaw in his plan.

“I can’t mask my scent.”

“A certain amount of hatred or reluctance is acceptable. Expected. But you must follow the orders given to you. Imhara will guide you and dismiss any small mistakes you make as a new slave learning his role.”

Considering twenty minutes ago he’d threatened to kill Imhara, the
Na’Chi
warrior was placing a huge amount of trust in him. He couldn’t fathom why, but one thing was obvious. Rassan’s confidence in her was absolute. But to follow her lead, to trust her . . .
Mother of Mercy
.

Arek’s innards twisted. “Won’t she be angry you’ve gone against her orders?”

“Perhaps. That’s something I’ll deal with later.” Rassan shrugged. “But there’s nothing she can do once you go into that room.”

“She could order me to leave.”

“Serving is a slave’s task. To make another take your place would draw Yur’s attention. She won’t do that.” Rassan reached out to grasp his shoulder. “Protecting Imhara benefits both of us, Light Blade.” Had the
Na’Chi
scented his doubt? Rassan’s eyes glittered in challenge. “The question is now, are you willing to do it?”

“A warrior never loses sight of his target.”
Yevni’s instruction from his early days as a trainee Blade. Yur was just a hurdle in the overall plan. Savyr should be his focus, Imhara the means he’d use to get to the demon leader.

“So, I address Imhara as
Na
but what’s Yur’s title?”

Rassan’s lips curled into a fierce grin. “
Na’Reishi
or Second.” He stepped inside the kitchen to intercept one of the men working there. After a moment, he turned and tossed something gold and shiny toward him. Arek caught it. Cold metal filled his palm. “Take off your shirt and put it on.”

“Only one?” He nodded in the direction of one of the men in the kitchen. “He wears two.”

“Two indicates he’s joined. Mated.” Rassan gave a brief smile. “An Old Ways tradition honored by some in our Clan.”

Arek grunted. A swift glance at the borrowed armband showed the same interlocking sun and moon design as the one Nayvia had worn around her neck. The Kaal used jewelry to commemorate a past way of life, but it still felt like a mark of ownership.

The reluctance churning in Arek’s gut only reinforced that impression. He shoved it aside and pointed his chin at the male kitchen workers. “They get to keep their shirts on.”

“They’re not Imhara’s newest pet.” Arek squeezed the armband until the metal bit into his fingers. The
Na’Chi
warrior folded his arms. “You play a role, Arek. If you can’t accept that or don’t think you can follow Imhara’s lead, then we end this right now.”

Lady
help him. He needed to adapt. Fast. Was this how Kalan felt all those months ago when he’d met Annika in the
Na’Rei’s
dungeon? How had he known when to trust her? At what point had he chosen to see her as something other than as his enemy?

Arek rotated the band around his fingers. If the truth were known, he felt more comfortable trusting Rassan than Imhara, despite knowing his allegiance lay with her. As convoluted as that seemed, perhaps it could be a start.

If Kymora knew of the situation he faced now, she’d deem it
Her
divine will. As the
Temple Elect
and his friend, she’d insist he embrace it. As much as instinct rebelled at the idea, the only way to regain some control of his journey was to walk
Her
path.

Lady’s Breath
, it was better than stumbling blindly.

Arek took a deep breath. “I’ll do it.” The decision to act settled his reservations to the back of his mind.

“Your word, Light Blade.” At his raised eyebrow, Rassan’s gaze took on a harder glint. “You might not trust her, but you don’t understand everything yet, and there’s too much at stake. If you endanger her, you endanger hundreds of lives within this Clan. I’d have you swear you’ll play this role without jeopardizing Imhara.”

“I said I’d do it.”

“And I trusted you before, yet you threatened her and took her hostage.” Rassan’s gaze never wavered. “Give me your promise.”

He couldn’t fault Rassan for the loss of trust between them. “I swear it by the
Lady
.”

The warrior stared at him for several long moments, then nodded slowly. “All right then. While custom dictates Imhara refrain from certain behaviors out in
Na’Reish
society, within these walls, and regardless of the rank of her visitors, she likes to flaunt her . . . lifestyle. Don’t be surprised by anything she does.”

“That’s not reassuring,
Na’Chi
.” Arek pulled off his shirt, handed it over, then pushed the band onto his bicep. “You realize Yur won’t approve.”

Pressing the edges closed, he glanced up when the warrior didn’t respond. Rassan’s grin had turned wicked.

Arek grunted. “You want him distracted.”

“Exactly.”

The kitchen help returned bearing a tray with a pot and two cups. Arek took the tray from her as Rassan nodded his thanks. In the few minutes it took them to return to the corridor outside the library, Arek prepared himself for the task ahead. Muffled voices came from within. One male. One female.