Radiance Page 7

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  If she disregarded their physical appearances, Ildiko determined that the Kai courtiers were much like the Gauri ones—ambitious, gossip-mongering, and highly skilled at surviving the savage intrigues of court life.

  She’d known the moment the doors to the throne room opened and she and Brishen crossed the threshold, they’d pass through a gauntlet of curious hounds eager for the scent of new blood. Anhuset’s armored breastplate would offer Ildiko no protection on that battleground.

  Familiarity with court etiquette and strategy offered some comfort as she knelt at the lowest step before her new husband’s parents. King Djedor was a man stitched of nightmares, a lich not yet completely rotted to bones. Brishen’s body against her back had been the only thing that kept her from bolting out of the throne room when the king flashed his black-fanged smile at her.

  Her fluency in the Kai speech was adequate enough that she understood a portion of his remarks regarding the ugliness of human women. His insults had done a fine job of eroding her fear and replacing it with indignation. That indignation bubbled into a seething anger when Secmis addressed her in the Common tongue.

  The queen had stared at her with eyes that gleamed red at the rims and a mouth that curled into a sneer. She sat on the throne, slender and garbed in a heavily embroidered gown that cascaded over the chair and pooled at her feet. Her silver hair was coiffed and decorated with jewels that winked dully in the low light.

  In her rebuttal of the queen’s comments, Ildiko had been tempted to ask if Secmis might find it more comfortable if she were coiled around her throne instead of perched upon it. The horrified gasps from the Kai nobles and Brishen’s hand on his sword as she challenged Secmis’s contempt alerted Ildiko that she already antagonized his malevolent mother to a dangerous point without insults to enflame the confrontation.

  Only after they’d escaped the throne room had her courage, fueled by anger, deserted her. Ildiko had collapsed in Brishen’s arm, lightheaded at her recklessness.

  He’d held her close, his praise of her bravery the only thing that kept her upright as he led her up a flight of stairs and down two corridors to a door decorated with fanciful strap hinges. He opened the door, revealing a spacious chamber, lavishly furnished with a large bed, wardrobe, chests and a table and chairs set near a hearth in which a low-burning fire flickered.

  Brishen led her to one of the chairs. Ildiko dropped into it gratefully. She was truly part of the family now. Just like the rest, she’d have to sleep with one eye open, in fear of Secmis.

  “Do you want a dram of wine?” Brishen held a goblet in one hand and a pitcher in the other.

  “I’ll take two,” she replied and offered a feeble smile at his chuckle. She took the goblet from him with shaking hands and searched for the right words that wouldn’t excoriate Secmis too badly. She was Brishen’s parent after all. “Your mother is...”

  “A soulless creature with a thirst for murder and an intellect greater than any other in the kingdom.” Brishen poured wine for himself in another goblet. “It makes her a ruler unmatched in both malice and strategy. My father would have been overthrown decades ago without her by his side.”

  Ildiko blinked at him. Her husband continued to flummox her with his matter-of-fact acceptance of his parents’ less than admirable traits as well as his own good nature. She could only surmise that like the children of most royal households, he’d been raised by a troop of nannies, tutors and mentors, at least some possessing a compassionate character.

  She wanted to ask him more, but talking about the Kai king and queen soured the wine in her stomach. Instead, she focused on her surroundings. “Where are we?”

  He took the chair next to her. “Your bedchamber. At least during your stay here in the palace. What do you think?”

  Distracted by his second remark, Ildiko gave her surroundings no more than a quick glance. “It’s very nice. What do you mean my stay in the palace?” A second knot of apprehension twisted in her gut, taking up residence next to the one slowly unwinding itself from her encounter with Secmis.

  It wasn’t at all unusual among the Gauri for noblemen to sequester their wives on distant estates, isolated from court life, while their husbands lived separate existences with a few conjugal visits each year to assure the hereditary line continued.

  While Ildiko liked the idea of putting as much distance as possible between herself and Secmis, she didn’t relish a future in which she withered away in some forgotten castle, kept company only by Kai servants as resentful of their exile as she was.

  Brishen brushed her knee with a gray hand. One black nail caught on the fabric of her skirt, creating a pleat. “Don’t worry, Ildiko. I’ll be exiled with you. I have a house on the far western borders of the kingdom. We’ll stay here for a few weeks so you can become familiar with the Kai court and then journey home.”

  Brishen said “home” in such a voice that he might as well have said “sanctuary” instead. It was obvious to Ildiko that while he tolerated the Kai court, his heart resided elsewhere.

  She recalled a map spread across a table in King Sangur’s study—a cartographical masterpiece of the many kingdoms that shared the great expanse of lands this side of the Apteran Ocean. She frowned. “Your estate nestles against Beladine lands.”

  He nodded, his yellow eyes flaring brighter for a moment. “It does. But I’m not defenseless, and I suspect our human neighbors will either wait before trying another stunt like the one on the trade road or consider another way to foil this alliance.”

  Ildiko hoped those neighbors would choose the second option or just accept the reality of trade and alliance between the Kai and the Gauri. While she’d enjoy self-imposed banishment with Brishen at her side, she didn’t fancy doing so while under siege by the Beladine kingdom.

  She finished her wine and rose to set the empty goblet on the table. “Will Anhuset accompany us?” She smiled at his nod. “Good. I very much like her.”

  A knock at the door halted any further conversation. Brishen bade their visitor enter. A Kai man dressed in livery, hovered just inside the doorway, shadowed by two women. All three bowed, and the man spoke.

  “Your Highness, His Majesty wishes for you to meet him in the council chamber.” He said more, but Ildiko’s understanding of the Kai language was not extensive enough to parse out everything.

  Brishen nodded and stood. “Speaking of Belawat, my father will want to know more about the attack on the trade road.” He reached for her hand and kissed her fingertips, his touch cool and soft on her skin.

  The king’s messenger stood to the side so the women behind him could enter the room. Ildiko rose from her chair to stand by Brishen. The women were also dressed in the garb of palace servants. One looked older than the other by a decade, and both were young. While the elder one tried not to gawk at Ildiko, the younger servant ignored her, her lamplight eyes trained solely on Brishen who returned her stare with a like intensity.

  “I’ve seen you in memory,” he said gently in the Common tongue. “Are you Talumey’s kin?”

  The girl’s still features crumpled. She fell to her knees before Brishen who frowned. “His sister, Your Highness. Kirgipa. Sha-Anhuset sent word of the fallen. You have honored our family. That a prince would carry Talumey’s mortem light...”

  Brishen interrupted her with a hand on her arm. “Stand up, Kirgipa.” He coaxed her to her feet. His frown had eased but not the sorrow in the downturn of his mouth. “It would have been a better thing had I returned him to your mother alive and unharmed. It’s he who honors your family. He was a good soldier and fought bravely.”

  Kirgipa’s chin quivered and Ildiko wondered if the Kai shed tears as humans did when they mourned. The servant bowed to Brishen and then to her before returning to her place next to the older woman.

  Brishen turned to the king’s messenger waiting patiently by the door. “Send another message to Kirgipa’s mother. I’ll arrive tomorrow with her son’s
mortem light.” He turned to Ildiko. “Do you wish to accompany me? We’d go tonight, but there’s no escaping the celebration feast without unleashing the queen’s wrath on everyone involved in our absence.”

  Ildiko gave an involuntary shiver at the thought of Secmis’s retribution. She glanced at Kirgipa before easing closer to Brishen so only he could hear her. “Are you certain? I’m an outlander here, Brishen, and this is Kai business in both flesh and spirit.”

  His black eyebrows snapped together in a scowl, surprising Ildiko. “You are first and foremost of the royal house of Khaskhem. There is no place barred to you except by the will of Djedor and Secmis.”

  Were they alone, she might have smoothed the line bisecting the space between his eyebrows. Instead, Ildiko limited her touch to a brief caress of his arm. She didn’t miss the watchful stares of the nearby servants or the looks exchanged between them.

  “This isn’t a matter of rank and access, Brishen, but of discretion. Would a woman mourning the loss of her son welcome a stranger to witness it, especially one who’d draw the attention I will?”

  Brishen still scowled, and his eyes glowed a little brighter. “What would you do in her place?”

  She shrugged. “When I lost my parents, I found no comfort in the sympathies of strangers, but each person is different. And I am neither Kai nor a mother—two roles in which I have no experience.”

  He eyed her for a moment. “Will you go for my sake?”

  “Yes,” she said without hesitation.

  Obviously pleased with her answer, Brishen bowed and turned back to the messenger. “Let’s get this over with so I may return to my wife.” He paused and turned back to Ildiko before stepping into the hallway. “The chamber next door is mine. You’re welcome to explore it.” He winked at her. “Much to my family’s disgust, I’m a man of few secrets.”

  He disappeared into the corridor, closing the door behind him and leaving Ildiko alone with the two Kai women.

  The silence grew awkward as Ildiko considered what to say. “I am still learning your language,” she said. Both women shifted in place, and Ildiko congratulated herself on learning how to better read her adopted people’s expressions. She’d definitely seen surprise cross the servants’ features at her uttering Kai words.

  “From what I can tell, your Common is better than my bast-Kai, so why don’t we start with Common, and you can teach me words in your tongue as we converse.”

  They nodded in unison, and the three began a stilted dialogue between them as they helped Ildiko unpack some of her trunks and instructed other servants for where to place the tub brought in for a bath. Ildiko already knew Kirgipa’s name and learned the other woman was Sinhue.

  During her journey from Pricid to Haradis, Ildiko had grown used to the stares of the Kai, sometimes curious, other times revolted. Sinhue’s and Kirgipa’s didn’t bother her, and they would be nothing compared to what she’d face at the welcoming celebration later—where she’d likely feel anything but welcomed.

  Except for a few smothered exclamations when Ildiko disrobed and stepped into her bath, the two servants were circumspect, civil and helpful. Ildiko fancied she even heard a note of approval in Sinhue’s voice when she agreed that wearing Kai garb instead of Gauri to the celebration feast was a good idea.

  During her preparations, she heard movement and rustlings next door. Brishen must have returned from council with his father and, like her, prepared for the upcoming festivities. He confirmed that assumption when he knocked on her door and entered at her bidding.

  No longer dressed in riding leathers and light armor, Brishen had changed into garb even more formal than he’d worn at their wedding in Pricid.

  A wide-sleeved tunic with a high collar covered most of a tight fitting shirt and trousers, all in varying shades of black and forest green embroidered silk. Tiny beads threaded through twin braids were woven into his black hair. Except for the braids, he wore his hair loose, and it spilled over his shoulders, dark as a crow’s wing.

  Being in each other’s constant company during the journey to Haradis had changed the way Ildiko saw him—tempered her perception of his otherness. His toothy smile still startled her as much as her eyes unnerved him, but she began to understand why Kai women found her husband attractive.

  He hadn’t abandoned his martial adornment entirely. A wide belt of thick leather decorated with brass studs cinched the tunic close to his narrow waist. Anyone interested in sliding a knife under his ribs would find it a difficult task getting through the leather for a lethal thrust. The belt sported a large ring sewn to the leather, and from that Brishen had tied his court sword. It rested against his hip, companion to the daggers tucked into the tops of his boots. Ildiko guessed he probably bristled with weaponry; these were just the ones she could see.

  “Are we going to war or to a feast?” she teased.

  “This is Djedor’s court, hercegesé,” he said. “They’re often one and the same.”

  While Ildiko knew he teased her in return, his remark sent her stomach into a nervous tumble. She wasn’t one to partake heavily of wine or ale, but she hoped both ran freely during this meal, otherwise her hands might shake so badly she’d stab herself with her own eating dagger.

  She quickly discovered her husband was learning to read her expressions just as she was learning to read his. He stepped closer and bent to whisper in her ear. “Peace, Ildiko. It won’t be so bad. And I’ll paint the walls with Kai blood if any dare threaten you.”

  Brishen meant his declaration as an assurance, but Ildiko shuddered. He was fiercely protective of her, and for that she was grateful. Still, she hoped they could get through this dinner without a decapitation or dismemberment.

  He stepped away and scrutinized her with a glowing gaze. “I hadn’t expected this,” he said.

  While Brishen met in council with the king, Ildiko had readied for the feast. When her new servants laid out the gowns she’d brought from home across her bed, she’d given a disapproving cluck. “I should have had the forethought to have clothing made that a Kai woman would wear.” A new gown or headdress wouldn’t make her any more Kai or any less Gauri, but adopting their fashion might demonstrate her willingness to embrace Kai culture.

  At her complaint, Sinhue had bowed and fled the room, startling both Ildiko and Kirgipa. The servant returned with two Kai men who dragged a large chest through the door and shoved it against one wall. When they left, Sinhue lifted the chest lid and motioned for Ildiko to come closer.

  Ildiko gasped at the sight of lush fabrics stacked on top of each other—muted greens and golds mingled with bronzes and blacks as deep as serpent blood. Splashes of jewel-toned amaranthine and cobalt shone amidst the darker colors.

  She knelt beside Sinhue and plunged her hands into the treasure trove, pulling out scarves and silky trousers, embroidered tunics heavy with gold thread and jeweled girdles woven and draped with gold chains more delicate than spider webs. “It’s all so beautiful.”

  Sinhue’s wide grin spiked the fine hairs on Ildiko’s nape. “His Highness ordered them before he left for your homeland, Hercegesé. They’re for you. We were instructed to leave them packed until you chose a time to wear them.”

  Ildiko sputtered, still awestruck by the chest’s contents. They were finer than anything even Queen Fantine wore during feasts held for affairs of state. Her own wedding apparel had been beggars’ rags compared to these clothes. “Now is a good time,” she said.

  Two hours and the enthusiastic efforts of her maids to lace her, cinch her, and tame her hair, and Ildiko stood before Brishen dressed as Kai royalty. Of the many times she wished she could easily read Kai expressions, she had never wished more fervently for that skill than now.

  She was dressed similar to Brishen—long tunic with wide sleeves over a tighter fitting shirt. Her tunic was longer than his and cut so that it gave the illusions of a skirt but with far greater freedom of movement than a skirt allowed. She wore trousers as well beneath the
tunic, their ankle cuffs tucked into laced boots that reached to her calves. The girdle encircling her waist was as wide as his belt but made of fabric in which rubies no bigger than peppercorns had been stitched and gleamed like small demon eyes in the dim light.

  Despite Sinhue’s and Kirgipa’s polite but insistent suggestions that another color might suit her better, Ildiko had chosen to dress all in black. Everything she wore tonight, down to the combs in her hair, had to send a silent message. Wearing the fashions favored by the Kai signaled her willingness to accept her adopted people. Dressing in a color that starkly emphasized her skin and hair signaled she was still Gauri human and unashamed of the fact.

  “What do you think,” she asked Brishen and pivoted in a slow circle. “Will this do?”

  He stood before her, silent for several long moments. Ildiko’s palms grew damp, and behind Brishen the servant women crushed their skirts in their hands, apprehension plain in their pale-knuckled grips.

  Brishen reached for her hand and tugged until she stood close enough to feel his body heat. His hand rested lightly on her back, fingertips tracing the upper line of her girdle. “You’re very clever, wife and have a talent for saying much while saying little.” The lines at the corners of his eyes deepened, and the corners of his mouth turned up. “This will more than do.”

  Something flared between them, a sense of camaraderie, of belonging. For a brief moment, Ildiko felt as if she and Brishen stood alone in this chamber, bound together not only by vows but by similarities far greater than their obvious differences. Brishen of House Khaskhem was as fine a man as any born, whether he was human, Kai or any of the other Elder races that populated these lands, and Ildiko’s affection for him grew by leaps with every moment she came to know him better.

  “You make a very handsome dead eel, my husband,” she said and winked. Sinhue and Kirgipa both gasped.

  “For a boiled mollusk, you wear black quite well, my wife,” Brishen shot back, and his smile stretched a little wider.