The Danu (12 page)

Katrine was almost
regretful of that, even knowing she was too tired, at least he would have
warmed her up.  "It's so cold here.  I thought the South was supposed to
be warm."

His only answer but for a
worried look was to pull off the rest of their clothes, which was answer
enough.  Eventually, clean and fed they slept.  Khalon's heat wrapped around
her, warming her more than the hot water of their bath had.  Since Katrine was
more than aware that it could be her last night in Khalon's arms she stayed up
as long as she could, listening to him breathe, feeling the firm hardness of
him pressed along her length, their legs intertwined, soaking in that warmth. 
She fell asleep too quickly, too tired from the journey to do otherwise, never
knowing that he was awake, and that he stayed that way deep into the night
keeping her from escaping him, and making plans of his own.

***

Khalon was still awake
when the summons came from his father.  He heard the shush of the door and
moved to intercept the servant before they could wake up Katrine.  He waited
outside the door, until Ragnar was roused and set to guarding it against all
intruders.  With his usual grunt, and looking less than pleased to be roused
from whatever bed he had fallen into he told Khalon with one look that he would
guard Katrine.  It was the best that Khalon could hope for.  He went to see his
father.

His father’s first words were
grim and to the point.  "Where is the Danu?"

"Sleeping," he
answered mildly enough, grateful at least that they did not have an audience
for this conversation.

His father was not a
young man, but you would never know it by looking at him.  Robust, tall, and
wide shouldered, thick at the thighs and arms, and barrel chested.  He seemed
to have hardened over the years rather than grow soft, and his eyes, so much
like his own dark blue still carried the fire and drive of a much younger man. 
The silver grey of his once dark hair was cut short at his nape and added no
softness to his harsh featured and hawk like nose.  The road map of scars and
hard lines across his sun-bronzed features were the only indications he was no
longer the warrior of his youth.  Indeed, he still wore the warrior leathers of
the army, though he had his usual furred cape over that.  It added a breadth
and depth to his shoulders he did not need.  Nor did he need the badge of his
office in shiny gold at his throat holding the fur around him.  No one looking
at him would doubt he was King Rek Morten.  The fur alone would be all the
introduction most people needed.  It had once belonged to the bear beast that
had given his father his slight limp before he hunted it through the dangerous wilds
until he found, battled, and removed its tusked head with the long sword at his
side.  His father had claimed its hide as his forfeit.  Father was not a man to
forget a slight.

Right now, he was looking
none too pleased with Khalon.  "Sleeping?" he growled low.  Not that
the harsh sandpaper voice was any indication of his father’s anger.  He always
growled when he talked, no matter his mood.  A viscous slash to his throat by
an enemy arrow during the taking of Horth had made sure of that.  Narrowed eyes
studied his son.  "Ansgar came to see me before you, though he arrived
after with his armies.  You left your battalion at Horth he says, without your
warriors at your back."

"I took
Ragnar," he said mildly, ignoring the rest of it for now.

"Yes, Ragnar, who
you ordered to guard your chamber door before you would respond to the summons
of your King.  Leaving the reason for that summons in your bed, I
assume?"  The words were without inflection until he reached the last
sentence and then they turned cold. 

Khalon clenched his jaw
at the withering look his father was sending him.  When he opened his mouth to
speak his father held up a hand stopping him.

His eyes iced over with
hard purpose.  "It appears you and I have
much
to discuss where
this Danu female is concerned."

Katrine opened her eyes
to see Khalon lying beside her, eyes open and on her.  A battle hardness was on
his face and she could read nothing in his expression.  They both listened as a
servant quietly stoked the fire and departed.  Neither moved until Khalon spoke
into the hushed still dark morning.

"I have something I
want you to wear," he said mildly enough.

Katrine sat up and felt
vertigo hit her.  She grabbed at her head until it cleared.  The painful
buzzing behind her eyes had not been conquered with sleep, but that too spiked
and then faded a bit after a moment.  When it did she looked back to find
Khalon had lost none of his mask.  His eyes were grimly taking her in.  Before
she could say anything, he had clicked a gold cuff to the wrist of the hand
still holding her head in place.  She moved her arm back so she could see the
cuff and narrowed her eyes at the intricate words etched across the gold cuff
in silver and decorative copper.  She fingered the language she did not understand. 
Amelia had worn such a cuff she remembered, though hers had been copper, not
gold, but had the same flowery script of words across it.  A binding cuff,
Amelia had called it, when Katrine had asked what the words meant.  With the
memory Katrine froze.

A binding cuff. 
Signifying a female belonged to a warrior and was under his protection.  The
way the people of the South made a lifetime commitment to each other.  She
turned her wrist looking for the clasp to remove it.  The thing appeared to be one
solid band of gold without the clasp she knew had to be there.

"Take it off,"
she said.  Holding her arm out to him, trying to keep her panic off her face.

"You know what this
is?" he asked surprised.  His eyes reading her panic despite her attempts
at calm.

Katrine narrowed her eyes
at him.  "You count too much on my ignorance of Southern ways," she
said crisply.  "Take it off."

She watched his jaw
harden and his face return to that warrior mask she hated.  "No.  I would
not, even if I could, and if you know what this is you know it is designed to
be closed once, and never removed."

Katrine sucked in a
breath.  That she had not known.  Aside from finding out what it signified she
had not spoken of it further with Amelia, why should she, she certainly was
never going to marry a Southern warrior, so their mating practices were
irrelevant, and it had caused Amelia pain to speak of it regardless.

"That you did not
know," he murmured watching her thoughts chase across her face.  He took
hold of her arm and held the cuff up between them.  "A warrior marries
only once, and it is for life." His voice softened and he lost some of his
mask of coldness.  His finger moved over the cuff on her arm as he caught and
held her eyes. "It means you are under my protection.  That I would die to
see you safe.  That we are not to be parted by man or law."  Each word he
said Katrine felt in her stomach like a beating drum.  "Whatever you were
before, this signifies you are my wife, the mother of my future children.  No
longer Danu.  Not even a king could take you from me now."

She knew what he was
saying, and what he wasn't.  She knew from his implacable face and glittering
eyes that he was still protecting her, more than that, he was making a claim
that no one could dispute.  It did not stop the panic from growing because she
could not stay.  Even now, she could feel the call inside her.  She had been
here exactly one night, less really, and already she needed to be back in the
wilds.  She could not live here, even if she wanted to, and with every fiber of
her being, she wanted to leave this place.  She took hold of his hand and
tugged catching his attention and trying for calm.  He had to understand. 
"I can't stay here, Khalon, even if I wanted to.  I am Danu, whatever
jewelry you place on me, I am meant for the wild places.  This place..."
she looked around the luxurious chamber and saw only the stone walls. 
"It's a tomb."  She shuddered and looked back into those blue velvet eyes
that had no give in them.

"My father has
already decreed you are not allowed to leave," he said, more drum beats, a
death knell.  "But when a warrior claims a woman as his forever bride he
places the cuff of his house on her wrist.  This essentially makes you daughter
to the King with all the protection that goes with it.  This keeps you
safe."  His eyes did not show the slightest hint of regret.

"Safe from
what?" Katrine asked, her heart beat speeding up.  His reasonable answers
angered her, beyond reason.  "Instead of your father’s prisoner, I am yours. 
I see no difference."

Several female servants
came into the room in the customary flowing half robe and trousers they
favored.  Hair braided back from sun kissed faces, dark eyes seeing everything.

Katrine paid them no
mind.  Just watched as Khalon's eyes turned cold and he dropped her arm and
stood up.  "I did not think marriage to me would equate to prison in your
eyes," he said grimly, all softness leached from him.  "The claim is
made, you are my wife.  Nothing will change that."

"And would
you," she asked before he could turn away.  She stood beside the bed, her
chin high and the heat in her eyes clashing with the cold in his.  "Would
you?  If you had the choice right now, that you did not give me, knowing that
this place will slowly kill me, would you let me go?"

She did not think he
would answer at first, so long did he stand there, with a stone-faced look, his
eyes slowly sparking, and something like pain moved there.  His answer was
implacable when it finally came.  "No."

Then he turned and left
the room with one parting comment she hardly heard through the hard beating of
her heart.  "The servants are here to help you prepare.  We breakfast with
the king."

***

Breakfast did not start
out well.  Khalon had known his claim would be met with only slightly less
enthusiasm from his father that it had been met with his newly claimed wife. 
Which is to say open hostility.  Both Ansgar and his father reacted with the
same frosty look, but it was done. Katrine was his wife.  To deal with her they
would first have to deal with him.  Both shot him a look of barely veiled
intent that promised they would indeed be dealing with him.

"Father, may I
present my wife, Katrine," he said it formally, and his father replied in
the correct manner back, though he omitted anything except the barest civility.

"Princess."  It
was the formal acknowledgment of her new rank.  His father’s way of making it
without also acknowledging what she was to him.  Daughter would have been
preferred.  Khalon would take what he could get.  If his father had refused to
acknowledge her in any way it would have meant both Katrine and Khalon had been
repudiated.  Stripping Khalon of both title and the right to belong to his father’s
house.  Khalon breathed a sigh of relief but felt Katrine's tension worsen with
his father’s eyes on her.  Eyes that studied her with marked hostility.

"If my son had not
assured me he saw your work during the battle I would doubt these old
eyes," he started, his voice its usual growl, mild enough, if you could
not see those eyes that looked not the least faded with age.  Khalon could see
him, however, and so could Katrine.  So she saw the angry intent before the
meaning of his next words thrust home.  "I thought I had killed you all
when I ordered the wilds torched."

Khalon felt Katrine's
hand spasm, but her reaction did not show on her face.  Though he thought maybe
the anger would be clear in his if his father but looked. He didn't look; too
busy to look away from the girl he sought to play with, as a cat plays with a
mouse.  Khalon growled low, ready to speak but Katrine was no mouse and she
beat him to it.     If his father wanted a reaction, he didn't get one, at
least not one he liked.

"You tried."  
Her voice as serene as her untouchable eyes.  "As far as I know I am the
last."  She tilted her head and studied him calmly.  Not seeming bothered
at all by the frosted malice that coated his eyes.  "I wonder…did killing
an entire species of people net you the abundant bounty you hoped?"

Khalon watched his father’s
eyes ice over, and his jaw clench.  He was going to say something to pull that
anger from Katrine when to his shock his father actually answered honestly,
frustration coating his words.  "It did not."

"The wilds are still
closed to you," Katrine said low, and sure.

His father actually
acknowledged that with a small nod, though begrudging, and then he turned with
a snap of his furred cape saying without words that breakfast was served.  His
short sentence ended the conversation with more than a little heat behind the
prickly words.  "But, I am not finished yet."

That his father thought
Katrine was his tickets to claiming the wild lands he had shared with his son
in the early morning hours.   Causing Khalon to react in ways he might not have
otherwise to see her safe.  With that one sentence, he told both Khalon and
Katrine that he was not derailed by her newly married state.  It just went down
hill from there.

It started almost
innocently, when Katrine looked at the foods presented for the breakfast feast
and then crossed her hands in her lap politely.  Of course, both Ansgar and the
King caught it the same time Khalon did.

"Is our Southern
food not to your liking?"  Ansgar asked from his seat beside the King and
across from Khalon and Katrine.

"I cannot eat food
that has been cooked," she started mildly enough, her jaw tight and her
chin held high.  “And I do not eat meat.”  Khalon cursed his stupidity.

"This is my fault, I
should have told the servants what to prepare."  He looked his apology to
Katrine then turned to the rest of the table to explain.  "The Danu only
eat from the green, and only raw."

"I will have the
servants bring a selection fresh from the garden," the King drawled. 

Katrine spoke before he
could, saying something Khalon did not know himself.

"Unless your gardens
are large, and tended by Danu, or part of the wilds themselves, it will make no
difference.  It will not sustain me."

His father put down the
fork he had just lifted.  "Interesting," he said.  His eyes full of
cold calculation.  "I had no idea the Danu had such a specific diet."

Katrine turned her serene
eyes his way.  "There are many things you did not bother to learn about us
before you lit your fires."

His father narrowed his
eyes.  "Perhaps you are right girl, but it was not I who ended the peace
so abruptly.  I cannot hold all the blame for my ignorance."

That broke through her
serenity with a flash.  Even before Khalon could squeeze her hand in warning,
she spoke.  "That is a lie," she said between gritted teeth.  If that
was not bad enough, she kept speaking.  "My people were trying only to
protect the wilds from your advancing armies.  We had no care of who ruled the
cities. 
You
spoke of peace talks with the Danu, even as you lit your
fires."

There was grim silence
around the table, and Khalon could only be happy that it was family only in the
room while his wife spoke treason.

"Katrine, there are
always different sides to the story in war."  He knew enough about his
father to know what she said was not possible.  He also knew she believed it
wholeheartedly, so he tempered his words.  "Whatever you think you know my
father would never besmirch his honor in such a way."

She stood up and glared
down at him so fast he barely saw her move.  It reminded him that even cut off
from her powers here she was not as other women.  And it reminded his brother,
who stood as well, his hand on his sword pommel.  Katrine was paying no
attention. 

"Do not tell me of
sides.  I am not speaking stories told.  I was there," she said her voice
harsh, her serenity long forgotten.  She looked right at his father and raised
her chin.  "My father was Happ Greengold, King of the Danu.  I
saw
him agree to peaceful talks.  I
saw
him give the commands to escort your
chosen leaders through the wilds."  Rage poured out of her eyes with tears
she did not even seem aware she shed.  "And I
saw
him and my mother
burn for it."

Khalon was still grasping
the significance of what she said when his father spoke into the lengthening
silence.  "Now that is interesting.  Greengold's daughter no less,"
he mused aloud. His hand rubbing along the deep scar on his right cheek as he
eyed Katrine.  "Well, whatever you think you saw,
Princess
my
ambassadors were sent into the wilds in good faith.  We needed the forests
under our control.  The only way to do that was through the Danu. As much as I
dislike magic users that point was bore down on me repeatedly by my spies. It
was only when we were attacked that I gave the order."

 "It was the Danu
who attacked us when we sent ambassadors to talk, killing my men under a banner
of truce proved that they could not be trusted at our backs."   His eyes
did not change.  His words did not soften.  "So I ordered the killing of
your people."  He met Katrine's furious eyes and Khalon at least could not
doubt that he spoke truth.  "But I give you my word here and now, that it
was not my men who struck first."