VirtualWarrior (27 page)

Cidre shook her head. Inconstant woman.

“I feel as if I will die of the want if I do not have him.
He invades my thoughts even when Ralen is in my arms.”

“Who is this man more alluring than Ralen?” Cidre asked,
though she cared little.

“Lien. No other will do.”

The air hissed into Cidre’s chest. She gripped the stirring
stick so she did not thrust it into Einalem’s eye.

Cidre waited until the door closed to give way to her anger.
She threw a dish of flax seeds against the wall and stabbed a goh carcass again
and again. Finally, she calmed. “Oh, Einalem, you will die of want. For you
shall not have him.”

Lien took a deep breath and walked to the grotesque hearth,
Ollach in his wake. The day was very new, the light just filtering into the
hall. A few torches still smoked in the wall brackets. Cidre, on her carved
throne close by the warm hearth, sat amidst her new best friends, the fawning
pilgrims.

She was garbed in a pale green gown much different from her
other loose dresses. This one was fitted from stem to stern. A lacy gold chain
encircled her waist, the ends falling to the hem of her dress. The lush body
promised in the loose dresses was realized in this one. Her hair had pale green
threads wrapped around some of the strands.

Ralen and his men had ranged themselves about the hall,
their black and white in harmony with Samoht’s strictly black-clad men. Einalem
must still be in bed, and Nilrem snored on a bench in almost the precise place
he’d been found yesterday.

When Cidre greeted Lien, the hall fell silent.

“Have you made a decision, Lien?” Cidre asked him.

“I have.” He bowed to the goddess.

Samoht, who sat at the table near Cidre, picked his nails
and affected a look of boredom. The effect was ruined by the two-foot-long
dagger embedded point down in the table by his elbow.

The sight of the dagger cemented Lien’s resolve.

Tomorrow Samoht might go after Ardra with something sharper
than his raised voice and overwhelming personality.

Lien made a show of laying out the pilgrim robe before
Cidre.

“So you eschew the pilgrim life,” Samoht said. He brushed
his nail parings off the table, scattering them at Lien’s boots.

Lien didn’t answer. Instead he undid his belt, placed it
beside the robe, then took off his tunic.

Samoht frowned. A few serving women gasped when Lien pulled
the pilgrim robe over his head and settled the hood down his back.

“Stick,” he said, and Ollach slapped it into his hand as an
operating nurse might.

“So you go, pilgrim?” Cidre said. “I am sorry. I found your
company amusing. As did others, I am sure.”

The goddess looked up, and he followed her gaze. Ardra stood
at the top of the stairs, garbed in the long gold column she’d worn the first
time he’d stepped over the invisible boundary—the invisible boundary that Ardra
was starting to recognize. The invisible boundary he had been too jaded to have
thought important until he’d stepped across it. Her face was a portrait of want
and need.

He turned away.

Samoht pulled the long knife from the table and sheathed it.
“Aye. We will be sorry to see you go.”

Lien smiled. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere. I’m just changing
my clothes.”

“What are you saying?” Samoht rounded the table and stood
toe to toe with him. Threads of red in the whites of Samoht’s eyes testified to
the world-class hangover the man must have.

“I’m saying I’ll be here for a while yet. Nilrem said I was
to stick by Ardra’s side, and that’s what I intend to do. And in case anyone
forgets my status, I thought I’d follow your advice, Samoht, and take advantage
of the kind offer of this robe.”

Cidre threw back her head and laughed. “You are a puzzle,
Lien.” Then she turned to Pointy-nose. “It seems our friend will not be
completing his pilgrimage at your side. I bid you good journey.” She pressed
her hands together palm to palm and curtseyed to each pilgrim in turn.

Her dress really hugged her every move. Pointy-nose looked
as if he had a little fire going on under his robe, but he dutifully moved off
with his comrades.

The pilgrims strode away as a unit, and Lien could not say
he was sorry to see them go.

He looked up at Ardra. Did she regret what he had done?

Her face was expressionless, her back ramrod straight.
Ardra, the woman who could rule a fortress, now stood there looking determined.
Turning her back to him, she disappeared from the hall.

“Everyone sit. Sit.” Cidre clapped her hands “Eat.”

Lien shook his head when Cidre swept out a hand, inviting
him to sit by her side. His skin, clear of the rash since Ardra’s embrace, now
prickled with the harbinger of its return.

Instead he walked to the lowest position at the far end of
the table—a seat that placed his back to the door—a pilgrim’s kind of seat.
Ollach settled at his side, saying that Ardra had ordered him to suffer the
same indignity as Lien by sitting in a position reserved for the least of
diners.

Lien smiled. He wanted to appear to Samoht as the least of
men. One who might have bested a councilor when that councilor was drunk, but
not one to worry about when sober.

Underestimation was one of Lien’s few weapons. A trail of
serving men and women brought out platters of bread, cheese, and fruit and
ewers of wine and water. As Lien raised his cup of water to his lips, a ripple
of sensation passed down the hall. His heart began a little dance when he
lifted his eyes to the top of the stairs. Not Ardra.

Descending the stairs was a tall, thin man with a
magnificent head of white hair. He wore a dark green robe open over a loose tan
tunic and buff breeches. Around his neck he wore the heavy gold chain and black
gem Cidre had worn the night of their arrival.

The Black Eye.
A symbol of evil, according to Ardra.
Everyone jumped to his feet. Cidre walked to the foot of the steps and dropped
into a very deep curtsey. The man placed a hand on her head. When she rose,
they walked side by side to the high table. Before they sat, Cidre kissed the
man on each cheek. The motion drew Lien’s eyes to her consort’s. They were
Selaw amber.

Lien realized he’d stopped thinking of Ardra’s eyes as
anything but beautiful. Now he noticed them again as something that separated
chiefdoms.

“I am so pleased,” Cidre said, “to present my consort,
Vanrali.”

Venrali bowed, kissed Cidre’s hand, and bade everyone to
sit. Lien observed the man with intense curiosity. Finally, he had met the
goddess’s mysterious sperm bank.

“What a bore for a beautiful young woman to ride such «n old
mount,” Ollach whispered.

“That is disrespectful to your mistress.”

“Ardra? She was given no choice. This woman chose
deliberately.”

“Then maybe she loves him.”

Ollach coughed into his wine goblet. “A man loves his
concubines, not his mate.”

Lien saw Nilrem yawn, stretch, then head in their direction.

Nilrem pushed his way onto the narrow bench on which Lien
sat. The wiseman prodded every piece of fruit and sniffed each cheese before
nibbling on his selections.

“What do you think of Venrali?” Lien asked.

“What do you think of a woman who chooses such a man?”
Nilrem countered.

Lien shrugged. “Maybe they’re in love.”

“If she is truly the Goddess of
Darkness
, she is evil
and he may be as well. It would be prudent to be wary of them both, though she
may be the more deadly.”

“I think Venrali looks pretty fit for a man his age.”

Nilrem patted his chin with the end of his beard. “I would
like to be so fit. Then I could have such a beautiful woman to tend to my
needs.”

“So you wouldn’t kick Cidre out of bed?”

“Me?” Nilrem cackled a long laugh, then began to cough and
choke, spraying bread crumbs across the closest diners, a few of Ralen’s
warriors. They shot ominous looks at him.

Lien said, “Whatever illness kept Venrali hidden away until
this moment doesn’t show.”

“I need not tell you that some illnesses are not very
apparent to the naked eye. Still, he looks remarkably healthy. Do you think he
might have been hiding for some reason?”

Lien chewed the nutty bread. “Why should he hide? Unless old
Cidre is poisoning him at a slow rate. You know, found a way to knock him off
so she can consort with a new consort—”

Nilrem clutched his sleeve. “That is it.”

“Shhh,” Lien cautioned, but no one was paying attention to
them. He quickly ate a few more slices of bread and cheese as well as three
apples. “Where’s Ardra?” What kept her hidden? Her anger with him for choosing
to be a pilgrim?

“Searching for the potion. Everyone is here save Einalem.
What a wonderful opportunity to go through coffers—”

“Searching!”

Nilrem clamped a hand on Lien’s arm. “Do not jump up like a
suitor whose robe is afire. You cannot rush off after her.”

“Why not?” He jerked his sleeve from Nilrem’s grasp.

“Do you think she will appreciate your faith in her to
manage her fate, let alone that of her people, if you cannot leave her alone
for an hour?”

Lien picked up a fourth apple. He took a bite, but it was
ashes in his mouth.

Ardra must make her own way.

“What about this idea you have that I should stay with her
until she saves my life? How can she save me if I’m sitting here with you? I
might choke on this apple.”

“Oh, I do not interpret such things. Hush now. The goddess
has something to say.”

Lien opened his mouth, but closed it. Ardra stood again at
the top of the stairs, frozen, her eyes on Venrali and Cidre.

Cidre tapped her dagger on her gem-encrusted goblet. Ardra
remained poised, one foot on the step, her hand on the newel post. Lien willed
her to look down at him, but her gaze was fixed on the high table.

Cidre said, “I wish to celebrate Venrali’s return to good
health and the arrival of our most illustrious guests from both Tolemac and
Selaw with a magnificent hunt.”

A burst of cheers and clapping resounded about the hall.

Cidre smiled, and when the noise subsided, spoke again. “We
will hunt the boar. Eat. Eat that we may make our way into the forest without
further delay.”

Oh, great
, Lien thought.
A boar hunt.

Ollach leaped up and hurried to Ardra to act as bodyguard.
Lien felt more than a tad jealous, but Ollach wore a sword whereas he only had
a stick.

“I’m staying here,” Lien said to Ralen, who had drawn near.
“We pilgrims don’t like killing little forest creatures.”

“Little?” Ralen laughed. “A boar is not a little creature.
And if we take the goddess’s totem, the sow, ‘twill be the best of omens for us
all.”

“And what of Ardra’s need to find the Vial of Seduction?”

Ralen planted his hands before Lien on the table. “There is
no vial to find. It is gone. Or if it is here, it is hidden away where no one
can find it.”

Lien shrugged.

“Ardra will not be hunting a vial, she will be hunting boar.
I intend to take her with me and watch over her,” Ralen said.

Damn.

A knock turned Samoht away from his maps, but when he saw
Einalem in the doorway, he went back to the parchments.

“Brother, we must speak.”

Samoht looked up. There was a touch of agitation in her
voice that made him pause. “Come, sit.” He set aside his map and took a chair
while she perched on the end of the bed.

“I have something to tell you. Something that will anger
you, but I pray you will listen and try to understand.”

He leaned forward and took her hand. “You have been angering
me since we were children. Why should this day be any different? I shall still
love you.”

“Oh, Samoht. I have changed my mind about Ralen.”

Samoht grinned. “
That
I could have predicted from the
moment you first took him to your bed.”

“Did you know he wants a chief’s daughter?”

“Of course. I tried to tell you that when you first saw him,
but you would not listen.”

Einalem slipped her hand from Samoht’s and went to his maps.
“You are still trying to figure out where we are?”

“Aye.” He joined her and pointed out the area he had marked
with an ink tinted red. “This is where we are supposed to be, according to
Ralen. But there is no rise in the land, nor a lake. He says we must correct
our maps. I say we are farther east.” He tapped the map.

“There are no lakes there either.” Einalem shrugged.

“The mapmakers will charge me a fortune to survey and
correct the mistake, no matter which of us is right.”

“Make a wager on the matter with Ralen. If he truly believes
he is right, he will take the wager. If he is not sure, he will not. Then you
need not go to the expense of sending the mapmakers, just change the map to
suit what you think.”

“You did not come here to discuss maps, nor to tell me you are
tired of Ralen. What have you done to make me angry? Get it out on the table.”
He slapped his hand to the tabletop to emphasize his impatience.

“I have known for more than a day who has the Vial of
Seduction but never told you.”

His heart began to beat fast. If this was true, he could
have Ardra as his concubine, a willing lover, even washing his feet in the hall
should he wish it.

“You have disappointed me, Einalem.” He kept his voice calm
and controlled. “Tell me everything.”

“The goddess has the vial, as the slave gossip said, and I
have made a bargain with her to show me how to make use of its precious
potion.”

“Indeed,” he said. He would have Ardra’s fortress without a
drop of bloodshed.

“Why do you smile?” she asked, sitting on his bed.

He swallowed the grin. “Why, I have just realized that if
you can get Cidre to use the Vial of Seduction, she has solved the honor
problem. How has she done it? Tell me.”

“Cidre will not tell me. She merely said she knows the
answer to the riddle.”

“So, you were able to get her to admit she has the vial?”

“Aye. Are you not proud of me?”

“Greatly so. Why did you fear I would be angry? Why, I shall
put it to the councilors that you be rewarded. You have made real what was
naught but slave gossip until this day. Would you like a legacy of land in the
chiefdom of your choice?”

“Oh, I will think of something.”

She did not meet his eyes. He wondered what she was not
telling him.

“Just as there will be rewards for the vial’s return, so
there must be punishments,” he said. “How did Cidre get the vial in the first
place? Which councilor stole it?”

Einalem shrugged. “She would not say, but I suspect ‘twas
Tol, and he is certainly beyond punishment. He probably tried to trade it for
some elixir to cure his illness. Sick people can be desperate.”

“There is more to this, is there not?” He grasped her chin
and forced her to look at him. “You have done as Ralen could not, Sister. You
do realize that? You have gotten Cidre to admit she has the potion.”

“I have.” She looked at the center of his chest.

“We must persuade her,” he chuckled over his choice of
words, “not to admit the truth to anyone but us. That way, we can let the eight
days flow by and Ardra’s fortress will be in my power without a drop of
bloodshed.”

“I have already convinced Cidre it serves no one to admit
she has the vial. I told her even you must not know.”

He lifted a brow. “Why may I not know?”

“Three can keep a secret if one of them is dead. Has not
Nilrem said that often?”

“Ah. That is true. So you have told Cidre it will be—”

“Something between women only,” she said.

“And how did you discover Cidre had the vial?” Samoht
watched his sister’s face. She bit her lip and looked at her hands.

“While making a salve for Lien’s rash, I had an opportunity
to look about Cidre’s herbarium. I recognized the bottle.” She looked up and
met his gaze. “You showed it to me once, remember?”

“Aye, and a good thing, too. Were you alone when you found
it?”

“Nay, Brother, Lien and Ardra were there, but they were too
intent on his rash to suspect what I had learned. Ralen would have found it had
he been trained to recognize what was out of place in a healer’s realm.”

Samoht frowned. “So I should have sent you with Ralen the
first time. You did suggest it, but I ignored you.”

“Aye,” she looked up, and her face registered her anger.
“Aye, Tol allowed Ardra to make decisions beyond a woman’s place. Why do you
never see that my thoughts have value?”

He cupped her face and kissed her nose. “Because you so
often come up with something ridiculous like wanting to bed some highly
inappropriate man. That shows me you are ruled by womanly desire, not reason.”

She jerked away. “And you are not ruled by your manhood?”

“Nay, Sister. And I pray you have not come to tell me you
want some inappropriate man in your bed.”

Einalem hugged her waist. “I have asked Cidre to persuade
Lien to my bed.”

Samoht caught his breath. “Lien?” He forced himself to
remain still and calm.

“Aye.” Einalem gripped his arms. “I cannot eat or sleep for
the want of him. Cidre has persuasion spells she can use to make him amenable
to my advances, but they are not powerful enough for lasting seduction. I need
the vial for that.”

“Then you have not yet used the Vial of Seduction on him?”

“Nay. She has yet to give it to me.”

Samoht shook her off. “Why would she? Why would she not keep
the potion for herself?”

“When I told her I had seen the vial, she was quick to
bargain with me for my silence. She will require some gold, perhaps larger
shipments of ice.”

It annoyed Samoht to see Einalem evading his gaze. There was
something hidden here. “Let me see if I understand. Cidre has promised to use
the Vial of Seduction to bring Lien to your bed. Am I right?”

“Aye.”

He walked away from her to the long window that looked out
over the lake. He pushed open the shutters to take in a breath of air and calm
himself. “It is a waste of a treasure, Einalem. A waste!” he shouted, his anger
slipping free.

“It will not be wasted. Please—” She backed toward the bed.
“I will not allow it to be a waste.”

Samoht strode to where she stood. He gripped her arms. “To
give some of the seduction potion to a vile slave is a waste.” He lowered his
voice. “You are as base as the fornitrix who ply their trade on the bathhouse
steps.”

She burst into tears. The sight of her tears, so rare, so
copious, shot a dart of shame to his heart.

He pulled her into his embrace. “Einalem, I have never
forbidden you any man’s favors. But never have you chosen so unwisely. The man
is surely a slave, no matter that he wears the pilgrim robe.”

“He also wears your roses.”

With a slight push, Samoht set her away. “That is the only
reason I did not kill him at the feast. I will stay my hand only until I
discover how and why he wears them.” He shot a hand out to the window. “They
are made of glass, according to Nilrem. Glass! We have few who can make the
substance into large pieces for windows, let alone such a tiny gemlike
creation. It is another reason you should distance yourself.”

“I cannot. It is my belief the roses are a sign I should
pursue him. It is your symbol, Brother.”

He shook his head. “You will make a fool of yourself. He is
a man unlike any you have seen, that is all. It is his odd hair color. I once
saw a woman much like him. She caused chaos, and we lost a valuable warrior
because of her. This man reminds me too much of that one. Evil she was, and
evil Lien may be.”

“Lien is not evil.” Einalem clasped her hands together in
supplication. “I never ask you for anything. I ask you now for your indulgence.
Let me have him.”

“Let you have him? Is Cidre not going to use the Vial of
Seduction to help you? What need have you of my permission? It sounds as if you
have already done what you wish.”

“I will not use the potion without your permission. Have I
not always sought it when the man is—”

“Unsuitable? Let me see, how many have there been? A simple
warrior with no lineage. A warrior who wishes a chief’s daughter? My stable
master? How many must I name?”

“You have indulged me in all these matters; why not now?”

“Do not whine.” He walked to the maps and unrolled the
largest one, which showed the eight chiefdoms. “The chiefs have no sons to whom
I might mate you. There are no brothers free. That unfortunate reality is the
cause of your unrest. You have tired of Ralen, having sought his bed too early
in the game.” His insides felt as if he had swallowed a cinder from the fire.
“I am going to give you an order, and I will have you stripped and flogged in
my hall when we return should you defy it.”

Einalem gasped. He turned and pointed his finger at her.
“You will use the Vial of Seduction to bring Ralen to the question. And only
Ralen. I will see that he takes Tol’s seat whether he wants it or not. You will
then be mated to a councilor. Your children, if you can still birth them after
all the herbs you have taken, will be raised to rule. If I find that anyone but
Ralen has warmed your bed…”

He paused and watched her eyes narrow. “Nay. You will try to
get me on my words. If I find that any man but Ralen has spilled his seed
within you, I will have you publicly flogged and the man castrated.”

She dropped to her knees. “I no longer want Ralen. I beg of
you. Do not do this.”

Her pitiful entreaty left him unmoved. “Enough of the
playacting. You were never one to beg. You came to me and told me of your desires
and now must live with the consequences of my decision. When Cidre gives you
the seduction potion for Lien, you will give it to Ralen instead. Drink of it
yourself, by the gods, and have done with it.”

Einalem rose and flew at him. She struck out at his face
with her nails. He caught her wrists and held her off. “Shall I send for Ralen
now? You can spend this anger on him. Claw his back, bite his neck, but forget
Lien.”

She struggled in his grip for a moment, then went limp. “I
will not be able to forget Lien.”

“Then I will have you flogged. I most enjoy a woman’s
flogging. In fact, I am thinking of ordering Ardra punished when her eight days
are over. I will call her to the center of Cidre’s hall and tell her how
disappointed I am in her failure. Then I will have her stripped and whipped.”

He felt a hot surge of arousal at the thought. The idea of
Ardra held by two of his warriors, arms outstretched, as a third punished her
hardened him. Perhaps he would wield the whip himself.

He set Einalem away. “Do you understand me? You may not give
the seduction potion to Lien.”

“You are just jealous.” She rubbed her wrists where he had
gripped her arms.

“Am I? Not about Lien.”

“Aye, you are. Ardra wants him, and you cannot bear that.
You challenged him because he stood in your way. I heard what you were about in
her chamber.” She tossed her head and ran for the door. She fumbled at the
latch.

Samoht realized he had not gleaned the most important
information from her yet. And now, after his harsh words, he might never have
it. He ran after her and planted a hand on the door to hold it closed. “Forgive
me. I do not know what possessed me to be so hard on you.”

She stood, her hand on the latch, unmoving, stiff with
anger.

“Come, let us strike a bargain,” he said.

He drew her away from the door. Her head was high, her pride
challenged.

“If you will secure the seduction potion for me so I will
have Ardra as a willing concubine, and if you will use it on Ralen yourself, I
will see that the council gives you a most attractive reward.”

“What reward?”

“Lien. I will have the council declare him a slave, no
matter his pilgrim status.”

“How does that help me?”

“If the council declares that Lien is a slave, he can be
given to you. He will be yours to do with as you wish. If he tries to flee, we
shall have him shackled. I believe he has worn chains before. Did you see the
redness on his neck and wrists when he fought at the feast?”

Einalem put out her hand. He took it between both of his.

“Promise me, Samoht, that you will keep this promise. Else I
will spend my life with a man I no longer want.”

“I promise. You will be a councilor’s lifemate and have the
man you most desire in your bed whenever it suits you.”

She kissed his cheeks and smiled.

Now for a bit of chatter and then he could ask the most
important question. “Are you ready for a hunt? I have not taken a boar in many
a conjunction.”

“One of the ills of ruling, Brother. One must spend so much
time in the capital.”

Samoht threw up the lid of his coffer. He drew out a black
cloak stitched with a border of red roses. “I believe I shall wear my personal
emblem today.”