Trusted (3 page)

Still, that didn’t mean much. Women would dare to wear it just to keep secret from their families that they had lost their virginity to anyone else save their husband. A woman lost value in the marriage market if she was not a virgin.

Garrick didn’t have much taste for virgins. He liked his women lusty and experienced, not missish and shy. He wanted to be able to be exactly the way he wanted to be without worrying about all the niceties that must be observed and came with an untried woman.

“Have you a favorite here?” he asked.

Now she turned coy. “Well, there are a great many excellent specimens.”

“Ah but you have one you like above all others. Who do you choose?”

Sarea pointed to her brother. “Dakon.”

Garrick looked at the man and could not recall having seen him before. “Why him?” he asked.

“I have my reasons,” she said, again turning coy.

“And I would have them. Tell me.”

“Before I do, watch him for yourself and see if he is not a favorable choice,” she said.

Garrick allowed her to get away with it…for now. He did as she asked, however, and watched the young man as he engaged in a game of swordplay. The game was simple. The first to land three strikes to the body of his opponent was the victor. The trick was not only about getting under your opponents guard, but to do so without critically injuring him in the process. The men were wearing hardened leather armor, light enough to move in and strong enough to withstand a measured blow. But armor had limitations and accidents happened. Blood was often drawn in these games, but most of it was superficial.

Dakon was aggressive, Garrick noted right off. He was not afraid to go on the offensive, which was good. But as he watched he could see several opportunities where he would have put an end to the fight.

“He is overly reckless,” he said dismissively.

“He is fearless,” she corrected him. “Not something you can easily find. The flaws in his defense can be worked on with proper training, but the heart of the fighter is what matters most.”

So, she had seen the errors in Dakon’s fighting style as well. And yet she still was in his corner. After a while he admitted he could see why. Dakon was a dogged fighter. He went through three rounds and showed no signs of weariness or slowing down. And when he was two points down and fighting to keep in the game, his defense improved. He refused to lose.

“I see your point,” he admitted after Dakon thrashed his third opponent. “He does have an extraordinary bit of controlled savagery. It is a quality I like in the Order. But he is young and rash. That must be tempered.”

“All men must be tempered. What is important is the key material needed to work with.”

The swordplay gave way to the boxing matches and here again, Dakon refused to lose. Boxing showed the man’s ability to take a hit and shake it off. The rules here were easy. The first person to make his opponent hit the ground off his feet was the winner. They were not allowed to trip each other up; it had to be purely from body or face blows. Kneeling didn’t count as being off their feet. Dakon never even went down on a knee. He just hammered away at his opponents. There were three in all in this game as well. He won each time.

“He must be exhausted,” he heard her murmur.

She had a point. After six fights in all between swords and boxing, the man had to be tired. Yet, as they cleared the field to make way for the foot races, he saw Dakon eagerly join up on a team. It was as though the man had a demon in him. He certainly had purpose.

That was when Garrick began to realize why she had gotten his attention.

“He’s your lover,” he said abruptly.

She gasped. “He is not my lover!” She flushed a pretty pink, her small nose coloring beneath her unfashionable freckles. In fact, there was a lot about her that was unfashionable. He found he rather liked it. And he was glad he had guessed wrongly. He didn’t want Dakon to be her lover.

“Then he is someone special to you. Otherwise why would you have made the effort to get close to me and draw my attention to him?”

“You are the one who asked me who my favorite was. I did not broach the subject,” she reminded him, but she was still blushing a fair shade of pink. He was hitting very close to the mark, if not a bulls-eye.

“Who is he to you? Answer me plainly.”

She sighed and met his gaze. “He is my brother.”

“Now it all becomes clear. You have sought to manipulate your king.”

He expected her to deny it, but instead she gave him a forthright, “I merely did whatever I could to draw your attention to him. It is my duty as a sister to see my brother has every comfort. What makes Dakon comfortable is dreams of becoming one of your Trusted.”

The Trusted around him who heard her hooted and hollered with laughter, but Garrick could not find the amusement in it.

“There are six Trusted and I have all six.”

She looked at him sympathetically. “It is well known that Ulric has not been seen or heard from in five misra, my lord. There are many who feel it is time you filled his place at your table.”

Her audacity galled him. Or maybe it was the fact that he was not ready to admit Ulric was gone. Whatever the reason, she perked up his temper.

“You do not dictate to your king!” he snapped. “Your king dictates to you!”

She looked surprised by his anger at first, but then understanding washed over her.

“Forgive me,” she said. “I know Ulric was much beloved by you. As are all of your Trusted. I meant no disrespect to him or to you.”

Garrick was only slightly mollified. The truth was, he had instigated these games as a way of potentially finding men to watch in case he decided to fill Ulric’s position. But he had not firmly affixed his mind to it. In the end, he was not ready to say goodbye. But Ulric’s disappearance smacked of foul play, and everyone knew it. And when it came to foul play against the Vena, one did not have to look far. Their neighbors to the west, the Umam, despised the Vena. They were jealous of their rich farmlands, their thriving mines and their beautiful city. They also had a deep, abiding prejudice against the Vena because of what they could become.

“So you feel it is time to fill the seat of a most beloved cousin who has gone missing? What if…what if he were to return, only to find his place taken? There can be only six Trusted.”

She looked at him sympathetically.

“Do you really think that’s going to happen?” she asked him.

No. He didn’t. And he didn’t like facing up to it.

“I am no longer entertained by you,” he said sharply. “Go back to your brother.”

Garrick knew he was being bad tempered and even obnoxious, but he let her get up and back away from him. Before she left she dipped him a graceful curtsy and said, “I am sorry to have offended you. Please, do not let it color your love for my family.”

Then she left.

The foot races began. They started on foot for the first half of the race, but on the second course of the track the runners changed.

Virile male bodies lengthened and stretched into lines of graceful sinew, coats of varying colors and paws as large as melons in some cases. Sarea’s brother Dakon became a spotted tree leopard, his black and tan speckling gleaming in the late day sun. As a leopard he ran in graceful, lightning fast strides, gaining on the field. But there was a ground cheetah in the mix, he knew not who it was, and he overtook Dakon easily. For what he assumed was the first time that day, Dakon lost a contest.

Garrick leaned forward to watch the runners carefully as they changed back into men, their clothes having been left behind on the field they all stood naked and walked back to retrieve them. Dakon was laughing and congratulating the man who had beaten him.

So. The boy was not arrogant and did not come with too inflated an ego. That was something to watch.

Garrick found himself turning around, searching the crowd for a virgin’s noose of silky black hair and a pretty purple dress. She’d had blue eyes, he realized belatedly. As fair a blue as the summer sky above them. And as Dora…Dera…Dara?...came up to sit in the chair to his right again, he found himself suddenly disinterested in all her charms.

Then it occurred to him to keep a steady eye on her brother. Wherever he went, she was bound to be eventually. Especially if she loved him enough to risk angering the king.

But she had not meant to anger him. She had spoken plain truths. Truths he had not wanted to hear.

“Trusted,” he said, and suddenly five sets of ears were paying full attention to him. “I believe…perhaps it is time…”

This was so difficult! But he was not a man known for shying away from truths. He tackled them head on. Wrestled them to the ground.

“It is time we laid our cousin to rest,” he said at last.

Those five sets of ears came with five sets of eyes full of understanding and of mourning. They had been waiting for this, he realized. Waiting for the chance to finally mourn Ulric and find a place for him in the afterworld. He was lost to this world now, he had to understand that, and would be in limbo until his friends and family sent him properly to the afterworld. He would not do that to a cousin…leave him lost. He should have done this misra ago. When Ulric had not returned to the city as scheduled. When search parties had yielded no clue to his whereabouts. Ulric would not have simply left their world for parts unknown. He was too loyal, too committed to his role as Trusted. He would rather die than betray the oath to serve Garrick.

Now it was clear that he had.

Garrick suspected the Umam’s hand in this and he would not rest until he knew the truth. The Umam had been trying to get their hands in his inner circle for yana now. They wanted to destroy the Vena and take their lands for themselves.

That would not happen as long as he was alive.

“I will arrange the memory service immediately,” Jesso said. He was always the first to offer the right words or actions. It was why Jesso was his most trusted friend and aide.

“Post the announcements. There is to be citywide attendance. Official mourning will last an entire misra. Then…” He looked into the eyes of his trusted men one by one. “Then we will select a Trusted to take his place.”

“Have you someone in mind? Perhaps someone you’ve seen today?”

“Perhaps. There is more to being Trusted than prowess in the games.”

“As we all know,” Jesso said. “Come, Jun, let’s get to work.”

Jun followed Jesso out of the stands.

Sarea went to find her brother, rubbing her hands nervously together. What would he think when he learned that, instead of drawing attention to Dakon in a positive light, she had drawn his anger toward their family. She had just reached Dakon’s side when the horns blew, an announcement that quiet was required of the crowds.

When silence fell, their king stood forward on the dais and said, “You have all shown great skill and promise. Those of you who are of the Order have made your king proud. Those of you who have designs toward that goal have made your mark today. For there was not a one of you I found lacking in enthusiasm…and that above all else is key to any man joining the Order.

“The winner of today’s games is…Dakon!”

Dakon, who had been walking toward Sarea and had been just feet away, came to an abrupt halt. Shock lined his face as he met his sister’s eyes, and then delight. She could see how joyous he was even as he tried to compose himself and walked up toward the dais. The king presented the champion’s prize, a beautiful golden statuette of a graceful cat in the motion of leaping. He leaned down into the ring and handed it into Dakon’s shaking hands. But Dakon did not betray his excitement in any other way. He gave the king a composed bow.

“I but serve my king in all things.”

“You and your sister should remember that always,” the king said sternly. Dakon froze, not knowing what that meant, and Sarea bit her lip anxiously. Then the king sent Dakon off and addressed the crowd once more.

“And now on to sadder messages. Tomorrow we will begin a misra of mourning for our lost Trusted, Ulric. We will have a graven image of him made and affixed into the walls of the castle he protected so valiantly and will have ceremony to see him off to the afterworld.”

Dakon arrived then and asked her, “What did the king mean by that? The part about me and my sister?”

“Nothing,” she said with a secretive smile. “Nothing at all.”

Chapter Three

Garrick sat at the head of the table, brooding. He had been doing this much of the time since he had announced the beginning of the mourning time for Ulric. But two shona had passed since the mourning had begun and still he had a dark mood upon him, as if Ulric had only just disappeared, rather than having been gone several misra past.

But Jesso thought there was more to the mood. He couldn’t put his finger on it, and he wasn't sure Garrick even knew, but Garrick constantly seemed to be looking for someone. Jesso had caught him more than once scanning a crowd at the marketplace or along the sideline of the Order’s practice sessions. There was often a gathering of onlookers, family and such, when the Order was being put through their paces by Hannibol. As leader of the king’s army, the Trusted man allowed for civilians to watch the practices for two reasons. One, to entice young bucks into wanting to join the Order when they came of age, and two, to reassure the public that the Order was up to par and would always be able to protect them from enemies such as the Umam.

Overall the Vena were a peaceful people. They were content with their lands and borders and saw no need to expand them into their neighbor’s territories. Would that their neighbors felt the same way. The Umam felt they had a right to the Vena land, their reasoning being that the Vena were nothing more than animals, and animals did not deserve to own such a prime gem of territory. Animals deserved to be hunted, and nothing more.

They were not the only ones who saw the Vena as ‘less’ because of the differences they had from other beings in the lands. Oh, there were other settlements with Vena in them or other shapechangers such as the Gorrum, who could turn into majestic birds or there were the Juya, men who could turn into wild horses. Each of these tribes had strong cultures just like the Vena, and each of these tribes faced prejudice and danger from those who saw them as little more than animals.

Jesso watched from the corner of the room he had retired to after the evening meal had been finished and because Killium had drawn him aside for conversation. A conversation he had begun to pay little attendance to.

“You needn’t worry,” Killium said.

“Hmm?” Jesso straightened and made himself pay attention to Killium. “I’m sorry, Kill. I was distracted. Forgive me. What were you saying?”

“I was saying you needn’t worry about him,” Killium said, nodding toward the man who had preoccupied Jesso’s thoughts.

“Why do you say that? It is clear he is not himself,” Jesso said with a deep frown.

“I say it because he is Garrick…and Garrick is never kept down for long. Not even by so heavy a weight as losing a beloved cousin and friend.”

“I am not so sure. I am not so sure about anything,” Jesso said grimly. “Ulric’s disappearance sits very ill on me.”

“On us all,” Killium said.

“Ah, but it comes to me to find out what happened to him. It is my responsibility to find a way to infiltrate the Umam and somehow discover what has happened to our man.”

“And how do you do with that?”

“It is as I said earlier this shona in our communal meeting. I am waiting for word from the spy I have buried deep on their side.”

“He is a brave man,” Kill said. “I do not think I would have it in me to be surrounded by those bastards from every side, all the while knowing how much they hated me. Knowing that, were I to be discovered, any number of horrors would await me.”

“I know. I offered to go myself,” Jesso said, “but Garrick would not hear of it.”

“You are too publicly known, Jesso. You are the best friend of the king. Everyone knows this and everyone knows your face as well as they know the king’s.”

“I know. But the thought of what they must have done to Ulric… Anyway, cooler heads prevailed in this case. I suppose Garrick was right to prevent me from going. I ended up choosing a man from absolute obscurity. His coloring was identical to the Umam as well.”

“Another reason you could not have gone. There are very few blond Umam.”

“Few, but not absolutely none,” he argued, as if he were back in the communal meeting trying to convince them to let him go all over again. Jesso had lost that argument, but he still kept trying to win it whenever the topic was brought up. “Anyway, I last heard from Mox and the man I sent with him several shona ago. I sent the man Hyax with him to act as his servant and to bring messages back and forth, but there have been no messages save the one telling me Mox had found position in the garrison. It will take time for him to work his way to a position of any value and trust, so I do not expect any results any time soon. But I do expect updates and it bothers me that I haven’t heard from them. I do not wish for us to lose more men to those sick bastards.”

“On that we are agreed, brother,” Killium said grimly. He observed Garrick for a moment longer. “He does seem to be off his feed,” he remarked, nodding slightly toward the very bored looking Dara who was getting nothing of the king’s attention. Though she shouldn’t feel bad. He was ignoring all things equally. “Do you think he would have handled the loss better had we a body to burn?” he asked Jesso.

“Perhaps. This is so open ended it’s hard for us all. But we are closing a door that needs to be closed.
Who
is he looking for?” Jesso asked in exasperation as Garrick scanned the crowd for the third time.

“I have no idea. Hannibol made mention that he was searching out the champion of the games from two shona back. Perhaps it is he?”

“Why would he be looking for a soldier of the Order? Unless perhaps…do you think…?” Jesso asked.

“It is possible. The boy may be a candidate. However, he is full young to be Trusted.”

“Were you much older?” Jesso teased. “We were all elevated to Trusted when the old king died at Garrick’s hand when we were all young bucks. As young as Garrick himself was at the time. We were all the best of friends strutting our way through our positions in the Order when Garro died. Garrick should have elevated seasoned warriors, instead he chose his best friends. Luckily for him, we became seasoned as time went on.”

“Don’t say seasoned,” Killium groaned. “It sounds like ‘old’.”

Jesso laughed out loud. “We are yet in our prime! And will be for quite some time. Death is a long way off for any Vena. We live to be well over a hundred yana old! The men do anyway. The women…well, it all depends. Childbirth is hard on our women.”

“Let us return to the topic of a new Trusted. Do you think Garrick will ask our opinion on the matter?”

“I am certain that he will,” Jesso said. “We must be bonded together as brothers. He will ask us if his choice is amenable. He will probably ask us to help choose from selected candidates. He will possibly ask us to put forth candidates of our own.”

“That would be well received,” Killium said.

Jesso saw Garrick suddenly straighten up, his eyes locking onto something. He surged out of his chair and strode across the room. Jesso followed Garrick’s gaze and saw Dakon, the champion from the games two shona ago. So, it had been the champion Garrick had been looking for. Jesso wondered why he hadn’t just called him to him before this.

Dakon saw the king coming his way and anxiety gripped him. Why had the king called him to him? It had been a while since the games and the king had seemed heavily occupied by the memorial service and mourning rituals for Ulric. Why thoughts of Dakon should suddenly enter his head could mean very few things. Was he being considered for Trusted? Was his dream finally coming through?

He knelt as the king approached, bowing his head in the respectful submission that was expected of all who faced the king directly. The king made an impatient sound in the back of his throat, signaling Dakon to get to his feet.

“I have been looking for you,” the king said, sounding impatient in voice now as well.

“I am yours to command.”

“Where is your sister?”

“My…my sister?”

“Yes. I told Hannibol to tell you you were to bring your sister.”

“My king, no one gave me such a message. I was told only to report to you.”

The king sighed harshly. “Very well.” He eyed Dakon critically. “So, I’m to understand it you have ambitions?”

“A-ambitions, my king?”

“To become Trusted.”

“Oh well…everyone wants to become Trusted, my king. It is an honor above all others.”

“Do not be coy. Have you ambitions or not?”

“I do have ambitions. I would want to be Trusted more than I would want my next breath,” Dakon said earnestly.

“For you to be considered for such a position you would have to go through rigorous testing. You would have to meet the approval of those who are already Trusted. Are you up for this kind of challenge?”

“I am more ready than you can know,” Dakon breathed with excitement.

“We will be the judge of that. This testing will not begin until mourning is done for our fallen Trusted in two shona.”

“I have waited all my life for this. Two shona more will not make a difference to me.”

“I am glad to hear it. Before you get too excited you should know there will be other candidates. Candidates much older and more experienced than you.”

“And slower, no doubt,” Dakon said seriously.

Garrick smiled. By the Joyous One, he was a hungry little bastard. He remembered what that was like. He was yet young, only thirty yana old. He still hungered for life. But he was at the pinnacle of achievement. There was no place higher than king. There was nothing left to strive for…save to be the best king he knew how to be.

“Do not discount your elders so quickly. Give me sword against you and I promise you I would thrash you. And let’s not even discuss what would happen in truform.”

Dakon didn’t doubt for a moment that the king could thrash him in truform. As a great cat the king was a massive horta lion, black of fur and large of paw he was built to tear through his opponents. He was fast, though not built for speed like Dakon was. But in sheer power he would outdo Dakon in every way.

But Dakon would give anything to fight the king in truform. Not a true battle to death, he did not wish to challenge Garrick’s rule. But to play at fighting, to show his skill by avoiding those deadly paws and teeth, that was the kind of contest any brash young man would live for.

One thing troubled him however.

“You spoke of my sister…” he said.

“Yes. What’s her name again?”

“Sarea.”

Of course Garrick remembered her name. He remembered everything about her. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. She had been in his sphere for all of a few minutes, had managed to prick his temper, and yet she still dwelled on him. Of course, she was a woman. Many women dwelled on his thoughts…for a time anyway. And this woman would be no different, he told himself.

“I wish for you and your sister to dine at my table tomorrow night. You will dine with the Trusted often these next few days. See to it that you use the time wisely.”

“I will, my king!” Dakon said, his excitement brimming over. It was hard not to laugh, but Garrick kept a stern face. The poor lad had no idea what he was in for. Nor did his innocent sister. If indeed she was innocent. He didn’t have a read on her about that quite yet. He needed more time in her company. If she was an innocent…well, he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

First he had to get her into his bed.

“
Me
?” Sarea repeated, her voice pitched high. “What could he possibly want with me? The last time I was in his company I—“ She cut herself off but her brother narrowed dark green eyes on her.

“What did you do?” he asked accusingly.

“Only what you asked of me!” she said belligerently. “I drew his attention to you! Now he is considering you for Trusted. Is this not exactly what you wanted?”

“It is but…just how far did this go? Did you promise yourself to him?”

“No! I did no such thing! Nor would I. Not even for you. All I did was point you out to him during the games and…and I made him a little…mad.”

“Mad? You angered the king?! And you are only telling me this now?”

“Stop yelling at me!” she yelled back at him. “The king was ignoring the obvious…that Ulric was gone. When I addressed the topic he grew testy. He was not ready to let go. But then, within minutes he was announcing the mourning of Ulric. So I thought that perhaps all was forgiven and soon to be forgotten.”

“Well he hasn’t forgotten clearly. He wishes to see you at night’s meal tomorrow night.”

Sarea nibbled on her bottom lip and her brother was savvy to the fact that she did this right before she told someone something they didn’t want to hear.

“I’m sorry, but I won’t be going,” she said.

Dakon’s jaw dropped. “You’re going to rebuff the command of the king?” he asked incredulously. “Are you mad?”

“Hardly. And was it a command or was it a request? If it is a command of course I must go, but it sounded as though it is a request. If so I politely decline to go.”

“And what do I say to him when he asks me where my sister is? Do you know how this is going to make me look? That I cannot control a woman…of my own blood?”