Radiance Page 12

  When Sinhue came to help her undress and get ready for bed, Ildiko waved her away and sent her to her own room. She was neither tired nor sleepy, but she did miss her husband. His chambers adjoined hers, and he’d told her more than once she was welcome to enter any time she wished. She did so now, pausing at the doorway to admire the space.

  The furniture was plain but comfortable, the bed large with a thick mattress and piles of blankets and furs. As with his bedroom in the royal palace, this one had a hearth with a table and two chairs set before it. A half finished game of Butcher’s Covenant lay on the table. Brishen was a far better strategist than Ildiko and had won every game so far except one. She suspected he’d let her win that one.

  Ildiko returned to her room to strip out of her clothes and slip on her nightrail. From the chest at the foot of her bed, she retrieved one of the three precious books she’d brought with her from Pricid—a tome of psalms and poems. She’d read it so many times, she’d memorized most of them, but they were no less enjoyable with each reading. She’d read in her husband’s bedroom until he came back from the border.

  The linens on Brishen’s bed were cool and crisp, the furs soft as she tucked herself in and piled the pillows behind her back so she could read. She left the doors leading to his balcony open. His bedroom faced east, and early morning sunlight spread across the plains until it spilled over the balcony and into the room. Ildiko blew out the single candle by the bed and settled in to read by the light of the sun.

  She was halfway through the book, her eyes heavy with sleep, when the bedroom door opened. Brishen stood at the threshold, dressed down to undertunic and trousers, his feet bare and his hair damp. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. “Woman of day, you waited for me.”

  Ildiko closed her book and offered him a drowsy smile. Relief and happiness coursed through her. “Prince of night, you’ve come back to me—your head intact.”

  “I promised I’d try.” Brishen strode across the room, motioning for her to stop when she made to swing out of bed. “Move over.”

  Surprised, she did as he said and made room for him on the side of the bed she’d previously occupied. He slid in next to her and covered them both with the blankets. Ildiko turned on her side and murmured her approval when he tucked her into his body and nuzzled his face against the slope where her shoulder met her neck. They’d slept like this during their travels to both Haradis and then Saggara, his lithe body both a comfort and a pleasure to lie against in slumber.

  Ildiko was halfway to a dead sleep when Brishen’s soft words in her ear brought her awake.

  “Sleep here each day, Ildiko.”

  A sweet warmth suffused her. She entangled her legs with his and hugged his arm to her waist. “As you wish. Just don’t steal the blankets.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  High Salure nestled in a col cut between the steep sides of a pair of mountains. Endrisi oaks marched up the slopes, enrobing the sides in a dusky green cloak. These trees were different from the Solaris oaks that fronted Saggara. Shorter, with thick trunks and small leaves shaped like pendants, the Endrisi oaks grew low and wide instead of tall and were interspersed with more statuesque firs. The encroaching twilight cast their shadows long, and Brishen pointed out the shapes of red-shouldered hawks perched in their canopies to sleep while the silent owls took their place in the hunt.

  A narrow path snaked up the windward slope with multiple switchbacks that made it easier for horses to navigate the slope’s pitch. Trees lined the path on either side with an understory of thorny bramble thicker than a hair mat and guaranteed to rip anything bigger than a fox to shreds. A rider wanting to reach High Salure with his and horse’s hides intact had to stay on the road—and the road was observed.

  Twilight had given way to night by the time Brishen, Ildiko and their escort crossed a gentle stream and passed through a narrow wind gap to reach the fortress carved directly into the mountain. High Salure’s battlements and graceful towers rose above them, dark silhouettes against the evening sky. Lanterns and torches blazed along the walls and lined the cobbled path that led to the main gate. Brishen squinted against the light and announced himself and Ildiko to the guards at the gate.

  Once inside, they crossed a pomerium to another high wall and heavily guarded gate. Brishen didn’t have to announce himself a second time. The gates swung wide, and he guided his party into a courtyard edged by workshops, a stable, a smithy and a small temple.

  Brishen relaxed in the saddle. So far, the Kai remained peaceable neighbors with the kingdom of Belawat. The raiders who attacked him and Ildiko on the trade road had worn the coat of arms of the Beladine royal house under their armor. Whatever hostility the Beladine king held for Brishen’s marriage to a Gauri royal, that hostility had not yet made it to these borders or this Beladine lord. No one had yet demanded Brishen and his Kai guard disarm. It was a display of trust, and one Brishen reciprocated by bringing his wife to this dinner.

  A steward greeted them at the great doors that opened to High Salure’s interior. Brishen dismounted and helped Ildiko off her horse. He gave instructions to the soldiers who’d accompanied them on their journey, and they followed another livery servant to a stone building jutting from the inner wall and occupied by Beladine soldiers who watched their Kai guests with wary but curious gazes.

  For all that High Salure was unmistakably a fort, much like Saggara, its interior was luxuriously appointed. The servant left Brishen and Ildiko in a receiving room fit for royalty. Heavy tapestries, free of moth holes and layers of dust, lined the walls, and numerous chairs and benches had been set around the chamber, inviting large numbers of guests to sit. Tiny ceramic pots rested on iron tripods. Stunted candles placed below them heated oils, perfuming the air with the scent of herbs that overrode the reek of tallow from the lit torches lining the wall.

  Brishen glanced at Ildiko. “What do you think?”

  She scraped her hood back, revealing the intricate braiding and beads Sinhue had woven into her hair. Her eyes moved back and forth as she surveyed their surroundings. “I suspect it’s well defended and likely well stocked with provisions and a heavily guarded water source beyond the stream.”

  Startled, Brishen blinked and then laughed.

  Ildiko gave him a look he could actually interpret now. He was growing used to his wife’s face. “What’s so funny?”

  “You.” He traced the embroidery on her cloak’s edge with one claw. “You never fail to surprise me. I thought you’d remark on the architecture or the furnishings. Serovek is well-heeled, and it shows. Instead, you note the defenses and conjecture about High Salure’s ability to withstand a siege. Plans of conquest, wife?”

  She snorted delicately and raised her chin. “Hardly. I’m as much an admirer of a pretty garden, fancy windows, and a fine couch as the next woman, but there’s also beauty in purpose. An enemy would lose many men trying to conquer this place.”

  Brishen couldn’t dispute that observation. Saggara had its own strengths that High Salure lacked, and the reverse could be said of High Salure. They were equally matched in their abilities to launch attacks and defend against them. Such equality kept him and Serovek on friendly terms, and Brishen hoped it remained that way.

  The doors separating the receiving room from the rest of the interior were thrown open, and a man dressed in brown leather and silks the color of fresh blood strode through them. Brishen caught Ildiko’s soft gasp as Serovek, Lord Pangion of Belawat grasped Brishen’s arm and yanked him into a brief, crushing embrace. Had Brishen been human instead of Kai, Serovek would have cracked a few of his ribs.

  Serovek grinned, flashing the square human teeth that were often a source of amusement among the Kai of Saggara. Brishen had the instant realization that it was Serovek himself who had made him think of Ildiko’s smile as equine. Lord Pangion was a big human—a little taller than Brishen—with massive shoulders and a slight bow to his legs that indicated he’d been tossed onto a horse’s back at a young age and rarely left it since.

  Brishen’s greatest exposure to humans had been mostly isolated to Serovek and his cavalry, with its horse culture as strong as the Kai’s. The humans even rolled their eyes in that bizarre way that horses did when frightened. They sometimes flashed their square teeth in laughter that reminded him of a whinny.

  Serovek slammed a hand between Brishen’s shoulder blades hard enough to make a weaker man stagger. “Brishen, welcome!”

  Brishen bowed briefly. “Serovek. We appreciate the invitation.” He glanced at his silent, wide-eyed wife. “My wife and hercegesé, Ildiko.”

  Serovek executed a courtly bow with flourish. “A pleasure, Your Highness.” His gaze passed swiftly over Ildiko, and his voice softened and deepened even more. “Word reached us of your marriage. Your husband is a fortunate man. Welcome to High Salure.”

  Brishen felt his smile stiffen. He pressed his hand against Ildiko’s back. He might not be able to discern the subtle emotions in a human’s gaze, but he wasn’t deaf. Blatant male interest saturated Serovek’s voice.

  Ildiko bowed. “Lord Pangion, Brishen has spoken most favorably about you. Thank you for inviting us to your lovely home.”

  Serovek motioned for them to accompany him through the doors and into a brightly lit hall crowded with humans and bisected by a long trestle table set for dinner. The other dinner guests were low-ranking noblemen and squires from the Beladine towns that received protection from High Salure. They gawked at both Brishen and Ildiko. As the only Kai in the crowd, Brishen had an idea of what Ildiko had dealt with at the palace and the circumstances she lived in at Saggara. His admiration for her unflappable aplomb grew. It wasn’t an easy thing being an object of such focused curiosity, especially when that curiosity was mixed with distrust and revulsion.

  Serovek made the necessary introductions, and soon Ildiko was whisked away to another part of the hall by a flock of wives and daughters eager to hear how the niece of the Gauri king ended up the wife of a Kai prince.

  Brishen found himself alone with Serovek, the other men reluctant to interact with him beyond the initial introductions. They were of no concern to him beyond the possibility they might be future military targets.

  Serovek lifted two goblets of wine from a tray presented by a servant and passed one to Brishen. “I won a sizeable wager thanks to you.” They toasted each other in Common and drank.

  Brishen peered into his cup. The wine was exceptional. “How so?”

  He caught Serovek’s smirk. “Bets were placed that a certain Kai prince would balk at the last minute and refuse to take a human woman to wife.”

  Bets were placed throughout the Kai kingdom on the same thing except it was whether or not the Gauri bride would balk. “The odds?”

  “Sixty to one.”

  Brishen whistled. “Those are plump winnings.”

  Another servant passed with a tray. Serovek drained his cup and replaced it with another full one from the tray. His entire demeanor oozed satisfaction. “They are. I used the winnings to buy a young stallion from Nadiza’s lightning herd as breeding stock.”

  Brishen made a note to himself that should another wedding between a Kai and a human take place any time soon, he wanted in on Serovek’s betting pool. “You’ll get fast ponies from that one.”

  “I’m counting on it.” Serovek’s expression turned grim. “Rumor has it you encountered trouble on your return to Haradis.”

  Unease rippled up Brishen’s back. He trusted Serovek as much as he trusted any human, except for Ildiko. “Rumor is correct in this instance. You’ve those among your kinsmen who don’t approve of the marriage and the alliance it forges, though I think the king of Belawat worries for nothing. We sell our amaranthine to any willing to pay. Gauri or Beladine, you are all simply humans to the Kai.”

  Serovek snorted. “I think we both know it has nothing to do with the dye. Your father’s kingdom is the barrier between Belawat and Gaur. The Kai were neutral until this marriage.”

  Brishen snagged a second goblet of wine but this time only sipped at it. “Our deaths would be useless. The marriage is simply a gesture of good faith.” He didn’t say aloud what both he and Serovek knew—many a war had started over gestures of good faith.

  He watched, intrigued, as his host suddenly pasted on a false smile and slid a brief glance at the clusters of other guests who watched them. “You and I are having an amusing conversation.” Brishen took the hint and flashed an equally false smile of his own. “Any warning I might give you would be seen as treason, and I don’t fancy having my head mounted on a gate spike outside the palace walls,” Serovek said between his teeth. “But as one comrade to another, I would tell you to watch your back. Belawat disapproves of this alliance and will try again to make that disapproval known in the most obvious way it can.”

  Brishen’s eyes narrowed. Kill the least important members first and move up the hierarchy until someone finally got the message. “It won’t stop with me and Ildiko.”

  “No. Your deaths are simply the warning trumpet. The Beladine and the Gauri were equally matched in martial prowess until this latest trade alliance. The pendulum swung in Gaur’s favor when Bast-Haradis agreed to more than just friendly trade.”

  Removed from court machinations and political negotiations by both distance and disinterest, Brishen hadn’t thought much of their neighbor’s sudden enthusiasm for offering access to their ports and moving Kai goods, especially the valuable amaranthine dye, on their ships without heavy tariffs and fees.

  “The Gauri must have received information that Belawat was planning an offensive against them. My father would have considered the promise of assistance a fair trade for moving the dye without tariff. Both countries could fatten their coffers in no time. But to the Gauri, the military alliance is far more important than the trade one.”

  The false smile slowly slipped from Serovek’s face. “Indeed. Djedor is known throughout the kingdoms as a stubborn, wily king. However, wipe out the heir and spares to this throne, and he’ll break.”

  Brishen remained silent. What the human kingdoms believed was partially true. Djedor was a stubborn, wily bastard, and the continuation of his line meant everything to him. They, however, had not taken Secmis into account, and the Kai king’s weaknesses didn’t mirror those of his formidable queen.

  “Why are you telling me this?” he asked Serovek. “You could kill me and Ildiko now and earn the gratitude of your king.”

  Serovek snorted. “King Rodan’s gratitude doesn’t manifest as coin, lands or favor. The most I’d get from it is a parade.” Disdain curled his upper lip. “As if I crave such a thing—crowds throwing laurels at me and scaring my horses.” The lip curl transformed to a sly smile. “You, on the other hand, make me rich with your dyes and your friendship. You’re far more valuable to me as friend than foe.”

  Brishen laughed. The first time he’d met Serovek, he liked him. He was as odd as any other human in both appearance and expression, but he was a soldier with a mind for strategy and a penchant for honesty that was sometimes noble, sometimes opportunistic, sometimes both. It was these that Brishen related to and admired.

  He clinked his cup against Serovek’s. “To the value of profit and friendship.” He drank the wine, the fear coating his tongue giving it a metallic taste. Brishen didn’t fear for his safety. He could handle himself in a fight and would be difficult to kill, but he wasn’t the only target. While Ildiko had the heart of a warrior, she was untrained, untried, and unprepared to fend off an attack from a determined assassin. He’d lay down his life for her, protect her with sword and axe, teeth and claws if necessary. Still, he was only mortal and there was a chink in even the best made armor.

  Serovek pulled him from his grim musings with a tap on the shoulder. “We’ll speak of more pleasing things.” He turned his gaze to Ildiko nearby, laughing in the company of other human women. “Your wife is a stunning creature. How is it such a woman, with ties to the Gauri royal house, remain unmarried until now?”

  Brishen shrugged, unsure if listening to his host wax enthusiastic about Ildiko’s beauty was a pleasanter turn of the conversation. “She occupies the same role in the pecking order that I do. We are of no importance to the royal line, but we’re useful in political maneuvering and kept in reserve for just the right moment.” He had never resented the notion. In fact, his relative unimportance had offered him far more freedom than any given to his brother and bestowed on him an exceptional wife. Unfortunately, someone now considered him and Ildiko of great importance in the worst possible way.

  His conversation with Serovek remained light-hearted until the dinner announcement. Serovek sat at the head of the table with Ildiko and Brishen on either side of him as guests of honor. Brishen split his attention between the mayor of one of the Beladine towns who doggedly engaged him in conversation despite his obvious unease at being seated next to a Kai and Ildiko, whose laughter and animated responses to Serovek’s bantering slowly soured the wine on his tongue.

  She was comfortable here, in her element amongst humans like her. The differences between them never seemed so obvious as now, and they went far deeper than appearance. Brishen had told himself that as she grew used to him and his people, she’d adopt their ways, understand their culture and slowly become more Kai herself. Watching Ildiko interact now with the Beladine guests made him realize he’d fooled himself into thinking such a thing. She displayed a natural ease he never saw at Saggara though the relationship between her and his household was both peaceful and respectful.

  Her ability to speedily adapt to new people and circumstances had lured him into a false sense of contentment. His own sense of isolation amongst Serovek’s guests made him wonder if Ildiko was lonely.

  It was close to dawn before the gathering broke up, and guests gathered their things in preparation to leave. Ildiko hid a yawn behind her hand as Brishen helped her with her cloak.

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