On Azrael's Wings (12 page)

The smile faded as she mulled over the magistrate’s words from the previous night. It was quite the puzzle. Why would false reports be given to keep her in the field a few months longer? Azrael was no threat to the throne; Shonal knew this. There was still their uncle, Duke Nieto, and his son in line for the crown should anything happen to her royal cousin. If Shonal would get to work producing an heir, her claim would weaken further still.

Uncapping the canteen, she took a long drink. Either the rumor was false or true. If false, as she suspected, who knew where it came from or why it had started? Ultimately, it didn’t matter for it had no basis in reality. Azrael suspected that a rumor arriving all the way out here to the farthest reaches of the kingdom had to be months old and long since died down at court. At the very least, she’d be required to publicly restate her oath of fealty to Shonal to prove her loyalty, giving the gossipmongers something else to prattle about as they pretended power and authority.

Azrael frowned. If the rumor was true, however

Either Shonal or someone near him considered her a threat, ludicrous as it seemed. She wondered if her uncle and younger cousin were suspected, as well. They would no doubt have to be since they were closer to the throne. Setting that thought aside, Azrael considered her orders to destroy the rebellion that had been brewing in the area. Why would she be sent on a fool’s errand that would result in the complete annihilation of four innocent villages in the King’s name? Word would eventually get out that hundreds of people had died for nothing, a serious blow to Shonal’s power for it could cause the very rebellion she was supposed to be suppressing. The entire matter vexed her to no end. Perhaps it would have been better had she paid closer attention at her father’s side but that time was long past.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the approach of Idonatra. She nodded at his salute and waved him closer. “You have word?”

“Aye, Lord,” the large man said, squatting down to be at eye level with his commanding officer. “We’ve sold it all for a very nice fee. I had the coffer delivered to your tent.” He held out a parchment.

Azrael took the list and scanned it, noting the total figure for the inventory. “Very good.”

Idonatra was smug as he nodded. “Aye, it is, Lord. That Atol is a wizard when it comes to merchanting. I think he missed his calling.”

Chuckling, the dark woman rolled up the parchment and slipped it under one bracer. “Talk to the quartermaster. The men are to be paid their bonuses in the morning and we’ll leave the day after; give them time to spend some of their hard earned gold in Provey.”

“Very good, Lord. I’ll see to it.” Idonatra stood and saluted before sauntering away, a whistle on his lips.

Azrael watched him go before movement caught her eye. Turning her head, she saw Midia and Ursula approaching, arms laden. A full smile broke across the dark woman’s face and she rose to greet them.

Chapter Eleven

The day they left Provey, Ursula found herself in the wagon that held Azrael’s belongings, the marching order much the same as the previous trip. Without prisoners and booty, the surgeon and a dozen supply wagons now trundled along between the second and third cohorts. Suma’s cavalry still rode guard, but not with the same vigilance, spending more time on the fore and aft sweeps than with the army.

Keeping occupied was an easy matter; Midia had insisted on purchasing material, thread and handspun wool before leaving town. The two slaves passed the time in conversation and sewing or knitting. Midia, who knew their mistress’ measurements, created a silk tunic of deep red. Ursula knitted socks, using a worn pair to gauge size.

The brunette paused in her work, setting the needles down and massaging cramps from her fingers as she looked about the countryside. Rolling hills met her gaze, mostly untamed land sprinkled with wildflowers and trees. In the distance she could see a mountain range, blue and hazy, looking like something from a fairy tale. Before and behind, the constant tramp of boots drove away all sounds except that of a cavalry soldier occasionally clopping past.

Reaching for the canteen, Ursula’s eyes fell on a gaggle of slaves walking just ahead. They were laughing at some joke and she smiled, wondering what it was like to have friends like that. Her only experience had been with her siblings and that was years ago.

“Midia?”

“Hmmm?” the blonde asked, still concentrating on her work.

“Why are we riding in the wagon? All the other slaves are walking.”

Looking up, Midia paused in her work. “I keep forgetting that you’ve no knowledge of these things,” she said, an apologetic smile. “We don’t walk because we are of a higher station.”

“Higher station?” Ursula asked, studying the group. “But we’re slaves.”

“Yes, and we are Lady Azrael’s personal body slaves. Just as our mistress outranks everyone here, we outrank the other slaves.”

Ursula frowned, settling back onto her cushion and regarding her companion. “So there are levels of rank?”

Nodding, Midia set her sewing aside and reached for the canteen. After taking a drink, she said, “Yes. If you should ever go to the royal palaces, you’ll find you’ll be ranked by those slaves belonging to Milady’s family.”

“It seems rather silly,” the brunette announced. “We’re all slaves. We’ve all experienced our lack of freedom. Why should we worry who is higher in rank among us?” She indicated those walking. “We all belong to our mistress.”

Midia cocked her head. “All the slaves here are attached specifically to the army. They spend their time at home taking care of the officers, the mess hall, and the barracks and training grounds. They know nothing of living in our mistress’ villa or what is required to keep Lady Azrael happy. Even if we were to look past rank, we’d have nothing in common except our mistress.”

Ursula chewed on that thought.

An amused smile turned Midia’s lips as she watched the young woman work though the puzzle. “Let me illustrate,” she finally said. At Ursula’s quick nod, the blonde continued, “You’ve seen our mistress at her most... shall we say ‘vicious’?”

The memory echoed within amber eyes as Ursula swallowed, olive skin paling.

“Yes,” Midia agreed. “Would you say that any of these slaves with that knowledge would wish to be her body servant?”

Leaping to the defense, the brunette said, “But they don’t know her! She’s not like that all the time.”

Finding the protective maneuver telling, Midia glossed over the issue. “True, but honestly, they only know what they’ve seen. Since we deal with our mistress’ appetites on a daily basis, we receive better treatment than the rest of the slaves she owns.”

Ursula could find little to argue, though the set of her jaw indicated she was still holding out for equality among slaves.

“Our mistress has a harsh reputation but it is always said that she’s fair. Just because we receive preferential treatment does not mean that her other slaves are treated poorly.”

Conceding the point, the brunette sighed and picked up her knitting. “How many slaves does Lady Azrael own?”

Midia followed suit and began sewing. “I couldn’t tell you,” she said. “We’re divided into three groups - military, household and field. Most of the slaves from the barracks are here, but some remain behind to keep things in order and see to the few troops there. They live near the barracks and separate from us. Of the household slaves, I’d say we number about thirty. We see to the cleaning and cooking. There is easily twice that in field slaves.”

“You said you don’t stay in Lady Azrael’s quarters but with your family,” Ursula said. “Where do you stay? In the villa?”

“No,” the blonde chuckled. “There are slaves’ quarters just past the kitchens. We have our own room, as do many other families. It’s separate from the villa, secluded; there’s a wall dividing our quarters from the villa itself and a fairly large courtyard that Milady has given us to make our own.”

Knowing the worth of possessions to a slave, Ursula raised an eyebrow. “That’s very generous of her.”

“Yes, it is,” Midia agreed. “With her assistance we’ve been able to create a very nice garden. She’s also allowed us to build benches and paths.” She glanced up and winked at the brunette. “It’s very beautiful. I think you’ll like it.”

Despite concentrating on the sock she was knitting, Ursula’s puzzlement had returned. Why would a brutal and severe general be so kind to her slaves?

Smiling to herself, Midia continued sewing.

Late afternoon stole upon them and the army was called to a halt. As the cohorts and slaves were dismissed to set up camp, Azrael rode up to the wagon containing her household. Midia was already on the ground, directing slaves in the unloading of their mistress’ tent as Ursula finished putting away the day’s work in a chest.

“Midia, you’ll have to do without Ursula for a time,” the general said as she reined in beside the wagon. “I’m stealing her away.”

“Yes, Milady,” the blonde said, curtseying.

Black eyes narrowed at the smile playing on her body slave’s lips, but Azrael didn’t want to lose what light there was to interrogate Midia. Her suspicion was noted and the slave’s grin bloomed before she turned away to supervise the others. A bemused air settled over Azrael and she turned to the brunette in the wagon. “Come along, Ursula,” she said, holding out her hand. “We’ve some riding to do and not much time.”

Hesitantly, Ursula took her mistress’ hand and was helped from the wagon to the back of the horse. Once she settled sidesaddle before Azrael, strong arms circling her, she relaxed only to grab at the dark woman’s arm when the steed leapt into a gallop.

The countryside had changed little since the morning. Hills gently swelled off the road, waves of earth and plants disappearing in all directions in a variety of colors. Everything was awash in the gold of the setting sun, long shadows stretching here and there promising cool respite from the heat. Away from the troops, Ursula could smell the vegetation rather than dusty road and she inhaled deeply, smiling.

Azrael slowed her mount and guided him off the road, moving at a trot toward a thicket of trees. As they neared, Ursula noticed a strange roar ahead, the noise growing louder with each step. Her mistress forgotten, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, concentrating on the sound, brow furrowed.

The general smiled at her open curiosity and continued forward. At the trees, she stopped her horse and gathered Ursula in her arms, dismounting. Releasing the slave long enough to tie the reins to a branch, she promptly captured Ursula’s hand and led her further. “Come along. I think you’ll find this interesting.”

It wasn’t long before they broke through the other side, the copse not being very thick. Ursula gasped in surprise, a delighted smile on her face at what lay before her.

They stood near the edge of a cliff. To the right was the river that had meandered along the road for miles plummeting down a vast waterfall to crash against rocks hundreds of feet below. Spray from the impact hovered nearly as high as their position and Ursula’s eyes lit up at the delicate rainbow whisping in and out of focus.

“It’s magnificent!” she exclaimed.

Azrael smiled at her slave’s excitement. “As are you.”

Ursula ducked her head with a pleased smile before returning her attention to the wondrous display before her. “However did you know about this place?” she blurted, pulling away to sit at the edge of the cliff.

“I found it during a sweep years ago,” the general said, her smile widening at Ursula’s lack of ever-present shyness. She sat down and pulled the slave close. “I make it a point to come here every time we’re in the area.”

Ursula leaned into her mistress. “Thank you for bringing me, Milady,” she said, suddenly remembering her place. “It’s beautiful.”

Azrael kissed the brunette’s temple. “Beautiful things complement each other,” she said. “I thought it only right to show you.”

Unable to answer, Ursula blushed and snuggled closer, inordinately pleased at the sound of a chuckle.

They remained until nightfall, twilight obscuring the mists and rainbows. When it was finally too dark to see, Azrael kissed the brunette before rising and pulling her to her feet. “We’d best get back to camp. Dinner should be ready and I’m certain Suma is beside himself wondering where I’ve hared off to.”

“Yes, Milady.”

Soon the women were mounted. Azrael let the horse walk across the meadow, not wanting him to twist an ankle in an unseen hole. On the road, she kicked him to a trot.

“Milady?”

“Yes, Ursula?”

“Have you brought Midia here?”

Azrael considered the question, surprised at her answer. “No, Ursula. I’ve never brought any of my body slaves here.” Why was that?

In the dark, Ursula burrowed closer to her mistress, a smile on her face.

And so the days went. Up at dawn, packed and ready to march. A day’s travel put behind the army before halting for the night. If there were any unique sites in the area, Azrael invariably visited them with Ursula.

Occasionally they would stop near a large town for two or three days. The soldiers were afforded leave and their general was pressed into service as a diplomat. At each point, more of Azrael’s troops, stationed on garrison duty, rejoined their companions.

Midia no longer shared their mistress’ bed though it was a week or more before Ursula stopped blushing about her nighttime vocalizations. At each town, the brunette was pressed into serving Azrael at various functions, losing more of her provincial inhibitions. It seemed as if she’d always been with Azrael, a level of comfort and security building each passing day that only startled her when she cared to think it over.

The distant mountains grew closer and the population increased. They marched past many farmsteads and small villages, each time garnering more and more attention. It was warmer, as well, and Ursula realized the growing season must be longer here. It was no wonder things were harder in the north. By now the first frost had begun and here harvest was weeks away.

A day came that Midia simply couldn’t concentrate, her embroidery heaped uselessly in her lap as she gazed upon the scenery with a smile. Even the soldiers seemed to be marching eagerly and Ursula puzzled over their behavior.