Nightshade (2 page)

Sylban-Tenna, Bharjah’s firstborn, was seated at Bharjah’s right hand. He stared at Jessa’s body, something shadowed flaring within his expression. “She’s a good little rabbit,” he said.

“Up!” King Bharjah snapped, and the power of his eyes instantly caught Jessa. “I have a use for you.” Her brothers sat straighter in their seats. “You will travel with Trey-Jak Joaquin and the Lord Serabee El-Khan into the heart of Arravan. You will marry their firstborn.”

After a heavy silence, the shouts rang out, more than one prince pushing to his feet in shock and rage. The dogs began to bark and the noise level escalated, flooding the pillared throne room.

“Enough!” Bharjah shouted.

The silence was instant.

“If you do not like it, then you are free to…” His expression was almost playful. “Then you are free to complain to Serabee. And your brother Joaquin, of course.” He smiled and sought out Joaquin, who was but a few years older than Jessa. He was seated on the left side of the platform near the end and had not shouted or moved, nor shown any discontent at the announcement.

“Joaquin?” Sylban-Tenna’s dangerous tone moved in the distance between him and his younger brother like a dagger, though Joaquin merely smiled.

“Yes,” Bharjah said with apparent satisfaction. “On your toes, Sylban.”

The shouting began again and Jessa stood in the center of the storm. One of the dogs, set loose from its chain, rushed across the aisle and was met instantly by two others.

“You may leave,” Bharjah said above the din, never once distracted from Jessa.

She stood extremely still, mindful that if she moved, the dogs would react. At least one of them was now free from its restraints.

Bharjah lifted a hand and Serabee walked down the right side of the dais in answer. The uproar abruptly halted as he moved, the still-chained dogs pulling back as he passed.

He reached into the fight without pause. The largest dog yelped in pain as Serabee tore it from the conflict by the neck and flung it from the dais, where it landed in the aisle with a snapping of bones and a heavy thud. The other dogs scattered and Serabee turned, focusing a subtle challenge on Jessa.

“Leave it,” Bharjah ordered. “Find your ugly witch woman, Jessa-Sirrah, and prepare for your journey. You will depart at the first turn of the spring moon.”

“As you command, my Lord King.” Jessa bowed her head then turned away. During the long walk back down the aisle she could feel the weight of the moment. When she approached the wounded animal she hesitated and a strange rush of understanding engulfed her as he tried to crawl. Crawl to where, Jessa had no idea, but she recognized the instinct. She stepped around his hind legs and kept moving as the animal whimpered.

Yes, child, keep going
.
You cannot help.

The unexpected words slipped like smoke through Jessa’s thoughts and she breathed in relief as she searched for the source of the warning. She quickened her pace as a new majik moved within the air and was certain Serabee would sense its presence as well. As she left the carpeted aisle for polished marble she saw only shadows, the sun’s rays through the enormous terrace doors bright and sharp as they slashed across the chamber.

*

Jessa waited on the wide veranda beyond her rooms, the cushioned bench she occupied one of her favorite places as she viewed the landscape beyond the palace grounds. In a seldom-used wing of the palace she had made her home, and she had more freedom than perhaps her father had intended when, years ago, he had ordered that she be kept out of his way.

It was still chilly, the winter season reluctant to relinquish its power to the softer winds and warm rains of the spring. The sky was deep blue, streaked with gold that layered into rich pink as the sun slid beneath the horizon. The stars were born within the sky like flints struck upon the weight of its impending darkness, the constellations slow to form.

“You did well.”

Jessa looked to the voice. “Radha.”

Lady Radha was small and thin, her white hair short and tossed by the breeze, the fine curls blown about her wrinkled face. Her tanned skin blended with her black skirt and dark tunic, and several fringed shawls were draped about her shoulders. Her eyes, the palest of blue, ruled her weathered face with a glorious sort of power. She had been Jessa’s guardian and companion since the moment of Jessa’s birth, and she attended to the duties of her position with total love and a cunning sense of responsibility.

“I did nothing but bow my head,” Jessa said. “I didn’t know you were there.”

Radha considered Jessa’s words and assessed her mood, even as she measured their place in a broader tapestry.

The presence of a royal daughter had always been a curiosity and a nuisance, and the fact that Radha had kept Jessa but a ghost amid the palace life was deemed a worthy service. Jessa was there only when summoned, which had always fascinated and pleased Bharjah. Only Radha occasionally tempted him with Jessa’s presence, allowing Bharjah to take credit for her loveliness or her skills, and thus earning her some status.

Jessa was the one thing of beauty that Bharjah had ever produced, and Radha’s skill in handling him had secured Jessa at least some measure of protection from his many sons.

Radha laughed as she walked across the terrace stones and stopped beside the bench before she sat next to her charge with a flutter of shawls and fringe. “That was the point of my spell,” she said, certain that though she had been watched closely for decades and always bowed to Serabee’s apparent dominance, never once had anyone discovered the truth of her abilities. Once nursemaid and now servant to the Princess Jessa-Sirrah, Radha was a high priestess and shaman in the service of the nomadic Vhaelin Gods.

“You will leave this place at last.” Radha studied the beauty of Jessa’s face and saw how troubled she was. “Arravan is said to be a most attractive land, green and ripe with plants and flowers. Blooming things that a woman of Lyoness might only dream of.”

“Yes. And so I shall go from being Bharjah’s chattel to being the slave of a stranger, meant to serve him in his bed and keep my eyes down still. I know very well what traveling to Arravan means for me, Radha. Do not try to dress this up as some sort of grand adventure so I might sleep tonight. I am being sold.”

Radha squeezed her hand. “I wasn’t. I was just happy that we shall see some green things.”

Jessa let out a breath of laughter. “And what else are you happy about?”

“The Vhaelin speak favorably upon this, child. I have seen it within the Waters of Truth. Strong portents,” Radha replied, recognizing Jessa’s doubt. “Do you think you know what the heart of an Arravan king might hold?”

Jessa pushed back the hair that had blown across her face. “I know exactly what the heart of a king may hold, Radha. The land he rules is but a formality.” A touch of temper flared within her expression and Radha smiled at the sight of it. “Must you always bait me? Have you nothing better to do, old woman?”

Radha laughed happily. “Not a thing.”

They glared at one another, neither backing down. Radha smiled and Jessa scowled back at her.

“Would you like me to find out about him? About his family?” Radha asked. “Perhaps you might sew him a pretty shirt while we wait for spring to arrive.”

Jessa yanked her hand free and rose from the bench, then strode to the terrace railing. “And perhaps I should have you beaten for your insolence,” she said, though Radha knew that she would never order a stranger beaten, much less her.

“I shall find out what we need to know, you needn’t fear. And perhaps you might consider the reasons why you’re being sent as a possible bride for the son of your father’s greatest enemy, yes? It is a good question.”

Jessa turned about and then rested against the wrought iron. “
Possible
?”

“Bharjah knows little about Arravan etiquette, I think. It is the woman who must agree to the contract and no one else, and before the witnesses of her choosing. Use your mind, girl. It’s that nuisance that has been hiding beneath all of your curls and rotting with disuse since the weather changed,” Radha said. “I’ve taught you better than to sulk and bow your head when you might look about you instead.”

“Yes, Radha, thank you for reminding me that I’ve been found lacking.”

Radha laughed.

“Joaquin has been busy, I am thinking,” Jessa mused.

“How so?”

“For Serabee to be given over to his authority? There is a deeper play and Bharjah is at the heart of it, whether Joaquin knows it or not.”

“And?”

“And what?” Jessa said. “What does it matter?”

“Perhaps what you will find within Arravan will not be what you expect.”

“And perhaps a year from now I will be ripe with child and mocked by an entirely different country. A unique sort of distinction, to be an amusement to half the known world. I’m not sure that many women may claim such a pleasure.”

“You are the Nightshade Lark and the Woman within the Shadows, Jessa,” Radha said with strength. “You are a mystery to Lyoness but you are here, make no mistake. No one laughs at you. You are the only child of the Blood that people do not fear or hate, and you are a great source of curiosity. You are the wish they do not know enough to make, for what need do a conquered people have for dreams that don’t come true? But you are on the edge of everything and they know it. The people do not speak of you within the same breath as the others. You are spoken of with clean air.”

Jessa ignored the words as she considered her future. “An heir of Bharjah’s blood upon the throne of Arravan.”

“Perhaps.” Radha could feel the challenge within the silence she was met with. “Do you think that is the deeper play, then? It is about as deep as the bowl I soak my feet in.”

Jessa laughed. “Yes, I’m sorry. It was a poor effort.”

“The world is wide, my child,” Radha said softly. “You have clawed at the door since you could reach it, searching for your chance. When the spring moon rises and we leave upon the road east, it shall be a road that you know nothing of and the world shall open to you. You will leave the Jade Palace behind. You shall move beyond the specter of your brothers and the stench of Bharjah’s presence.”

Jessa studied her hands for a moment and then turned about, gazing once again upon an unknown distance. “Yes, I shall trade one cage for another and have Joaquin stepping on my shadow as always.”

“Perhaps.”

“Yes, and if not that, then what?” Jessa said. “Whether I am a possible bride or one that has already been bartered and paid for, Bharjah’s wishes were quite clear and my choice must be yes. I’m not sure where that leaves my
chance
.”

“You do not know everything,” Radha said. “We shall consult the Waters.”

“No. I have no wish to see what they hold.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am tired of my gods taunting me!” Jessa answered with unexpected anger. “I show them respect and I practice their arts, yet they give me
nothing
. Your spell is not what you think, old woman. It never has been.”

“My spell is fine. It is
you
that cannot hold what they show within your head,” Radha said. “Or perhaps your heart.”

“My head is quite capable, thank you,” Jessa replied. “And my heart has nothing to do with it.”

“What is it you have seen that you’re so afraid of?” Radha asked, not for the first time.

For years Jessa had been plagued by what the spell had shown her, sulking within her visions and her temper flaring easily at any mention of them. She held them tightly to her heart, claiming that she could not remember or that they were smoke within her thoughts. Whether or not Jessa was being honest Radha had no idea, but it was a mystery she had tried to solve for many years. She suspected that Jessa lied, though for what reason she could not decipher. Jessa did not seek the Waters as she once did.

Jessa searched the stars of the warrior Attia’s spear and did not answer for Radha to hear, though she heard Jessa’s whisper on the rising breeze. “And my heart…my heart is very tired and of no use to anyone.”

Spring 1032

The Lowlands of Arravan

Jessa stood in the long grass and stared down into the green lands of Arravan. Their caravan had traveled for nearly three weeks and had reached the well-guarded border at the Emmerin Gap, passing from Lyoness beneath the curious eyes of several thousand soldiers. First the Eastern Forces of her father bowed to their knees as they passed, and then the Western Army of Arravan gathered at the strongholds of the Gap, showing their might as they stood tall. Within the same week they had crossed the Taljah River and entered the Lowlands, traveling deeper into the country that might well become her home.

The land had changed in subtle ways as they had moved east from Karballa, but once they had crossed the Taljah, Jessa’s knowledge of the world had swung like a pendulum from what was familiar to what was extraordinary and uncommon. The world had come alive. The weather was warm and the rains more frequent, the earth transforming into an exotic landscape of growth and vitality.

Radha was right, I’ve never seen such color, Jessa thought as the breeze washed over her. The sun was setting as the sky grew dark, thin clouds drifting high up and pushed to the north by the wind.