Fantasy of Frost (The Tainted Accords Book 1) (16 page)

“Enough, you fucking idiot. He said to beat her nearly to death, not to kill her.” The man’s voice is at the other end of a long tunnel.

I fade in.

“She isn’t so bad looking. Even with the blood.”

“For fuck’s sake Nam, put it away. We don’t have time for you to get your dick wet.”

I fade out.

There is an annoying sound in my head. Something wet is dragging over my skin. I cannot open my eyes. What happened? My head throbs and bile rises, burning my throat and the back of my nose. The noise is making the nausea worse. I try to swallow.

Flashes of the night before start trickling back to me. I was beaten. And by the excruciating pain radiating through my body, I am alive.

I try to open my eyes again and the left one moves very slightly.

“Kaura,” I try. I lick my lips, my tongue running over several painful splits.

“Kaura.” This time a rasp comes out. “Kaura, shush,” I say. The annoying sound stops as she quits barking to nuzzle the side of my jaw, which also hurts.

“I’m okay,” I rasp out. I think. I start an inventory. My fingers, wrists, elbows and shoulders all move. All are painful and take a bit of coaxing to respond, but they feel nothing like my broken wrist did a few months ago. My head throbs, taking over my vision. I swallow yet another lot of bile. My legs are in a similar state to my arms. I’m going to have a very bad limp for a while.

The real issue is discovered as I try to sit up. Hot searing pain lances across my ribs and lower back, taking my breath away and forcing me back to the floor.

“Veni!” I hiss. I lay until the pain dissipates to a lower level. Bracing myself, I roll onto my tummy, propping my upper body onto my elbows. Once I am safe from losing my stomach on the floor and the flare of pain has lessened, I move to my hands and knees. The black spots I am learning to hate flood in, I spend a lot of time begging them to stay away. Sweat drips down my neck. My veil is stuck to the blood underneath my nose.

Eventually, I manage to crawl to the seat at the base of the bed and prop my arms on it, resting my head on top of them. Kaura is whining again. In my life I had probably had three beatings which were worse than this, but only because bones had been broken and required longer to heal. I do not think I have ever been kicked in the back before. I hope the guards are not dead. They must be if they have not checked up on me yet.

“Hush, Kaura. I’m okay,” I say again. “You were a brave girl last night. And you got out of your box, too.” She looks at me like I am crazy.

I pull myself into a sitting position on the long seat and rest my pulsating head against the stone column to my left. What happened last night? Why had those men attacked me? The men had been thugs. The comment by the small man at the end about their orders swims around in my head. They were hired. Who hates me that much? A few come to mind. Then another thought comes to me. What if it is the same Bruma who tried to kill me on Osolis? It’s hopeless. I’m a Solati in a castle of Bruma who all have the resources to hire these kinds of people. Finding the culprit would be an impossible task. I can’t even find Kedrick’s killer in a small group of eleven. 

Anger floods through me as it often does after a beating. I hold onto it and it burns away the blurry edges of my vision. Violence had been expected in the first weeks after I arrived, but it had been a month or more since I had begun to feel more settled and less like the foreigner. I look out the window. I judge it to be early morning, though I cannot be sure.

I refused to appear weak. I will go about my normal day. A grimace of a smile spreads on my face as I imagine the look on the face of the Bruma who hired the thugs when I turn up at breakfast.

Using the column, I push into standing and spend a minute there before moving to the pitcher of water across the room. I pour a small amount into my mouth and swirl it around before spitting it out. A darkened red colours the basin. I swallow the next mouthful and taste the rustiness of blood as I do. I pull the veil carefully from the blood under my nose and then with shaking hands, I trace over my face. Two bruised eyes, one swollen and bloody nose, thankfully not broken. And one very painful jaw. Talking and eating is going to be difficult.

Slowly, painfully, I wash the blood from my body and my veil, wishing the whole while Olandon was here. He always helped me after my beatings. The skin is split on my shoulder and legs where their boots have cut through. The rest is just bruised. I wash the cuts out as best I can with the limited water. I feel across my chest and the skin feels bruised. I pull on the children’s tunic I initially wore which has a high neckline, hopefully it will cover the bruises there. A thick coat goes on top of it.

A wave of nausea too strong to ignore comes over me. Ripping my veil off, I rush to the bowl and stoop down to vomit up the water I just drank. The veil goes back on. I am lucky it is black or it would be unfit to wear with all the stains it has collected.

After struggling through changing my trousers and boots with the pain in my back, I’m ready for breakfast and already regretting my decision to leave my room today. My blurry mind reminds me why I am doing it. Maybe I’ll just head down, say a few hellos and then come back up to my room.

I leave the room expecting to see dead guards, but no one is there. They must have disposed of the bodies. I do not know how I will bring up their disappearance without giving away I am injured. Should I tell Malir, or Kedrick’s brother?

I move slowly at first, my pain easing slightly as my body warms. Enough that I can walk with some semblance of normalcy if I’m careful. By the time I reach the bottom of the stairs, I am swallowing constantly to keep my stomach inside of me. I see the archway. The throbbing in my head intensifies and the black patches renew their assault.

I need a moment before I enter.

I leave the main hallway, moving into a smaller hall. A blurry glance tells me it is empty.  I lean on the wall gasping, trying to stay upright on my shaking legs.  The torches down the hall make the dizziness worse. I close my eyes, breathing deeply. My right hand applying pressure to my painful ribs to help with each inhalation.

“Tatuma?”

My feeble effort to keep the black patches at bay prevents panic.

“What’s wrong with you? You’re hurt.” The commanding voice moves closer.

Veni! Anyone but him. I crack the left eye open to find the King bending down beside me.

I shake my head. “No, I am fine.” I curse inwardly at my answer.

“I’m sure. What have you done?” he asks, moving around me. I try to straighten, but my ribs catch as I do. A hiss of pain escapes me.

“I fell down the stairs to my room and hurt my ribs.” I gasp, latching onto his belief I have somehow created my current pain.

“Let me tell you if they are broken or bruised. I’ve had many myself.” A massive hand moves to the front of my coat. He continues, “Though I am surprised you fell down them to begin with. Your balance looks to be quite good.”

I shrug off his hands. “Don’t worry. I’ll have a look once I’m back in my quarters.”

He frowns down at me and steps back, looking up and down the hallway.

“Where are your guards?” I look up at him through my left eye and lift one shoulder in a shrug.

The King’s eyes narrow and his voice softens into a dangerous tone. “Tatuma. You would not, by some foolish decision, be lying to me, would you?”

I swallow back more bile and put a hand to my head as I see two King Jovans. I shake my head both in denial to his question and to clear my head. The King steps into me, grabbing at my coat and rips it open against my weak protests.

He bites off a sound as he looks down. I follow his gaze and see blood has soaked through in several places. He looks at my chest also. Despite the high neckline there must be a bruise showing there. He grabs my right shoulder.

“What the fuck happened to you? Who has beaten you? Was it your guards?” he says as he bends down in front of my face. If the stone wall was not already at my back I would be trying to move away from him, as it is I push myself into the wall hoping to melt into it.

I start to repeat my previous answer, but he shakes my shoulder.

“Do not,” he says right in my face, “lie to me.”

I do not answer. The black spots have returned with a vengeance. I put my hand on the wall again and breathe deeply.

“Put this back on.” He shoves my jacket at me.

“No,” I moan and push weakly at his hands.

“Olina, I need to have you tended to, but I cannot do it in the hallway. Put on your coat so no one sees and I will help you to somewhere more private,” he says in a rough voice which would be as close to gentle as I think he gets.

I put on the coat and stumble beside the King, back the way I came. Luck is with me, we don’t pass anyone. I get to the stairs before my legs give out and I start sinking to the ground.

He picks me up and I groan as his hand wraps around my right ribs. He readjusts his grip. I am carried the rest of the way and deposited on the bed seat. I should have just stayed here. Groaning, I lean forward to hold my head in my hands. Kaura bounds over and goes up onto her hind legs to lick my hands.

“Hey little girl. I forgot to get you food, I’m sorry. I’ll go and get you some later,” I mumble. Her head tilts to one side. I don’t blame her, I barely understood the slurring words myself.

“You’re not going anywhere,” the King says. I wince at the sound, digging my fingers into my temples. 

“Who did this to you?” he demands, pacing in front of me.

“Lower your voice,” I whisper.

“I will know who did this. You will tell me,” he says, not changing his volume in the slightest.

My battle with the black patches finally fails. They connect together and I’m gone once again.

I come to lying down. The King hovers over me, his expression of concern turning to anger as he sees I’m regaining my senses.

I groan. “How long was I out?”

“A couple of minutes. You’re lucky I caught you. What if you had been alone?” I don’t mention I had been alone since it happened. He obviously thought this happened downstairs.

“I will not allow the beating of women in my castle. Where are your bloody guards? If they are smart, they will not come back.” I note he is speaking in a softer voice now.

“I think they may be dead,” I whisper with a hand to my head.

“What?” the King says loudly, I wince at the noise as I sort through my options. The situation has gotten out of hand. There is no excuse I can think of to explain the guards death and my injuries without saying I did it myself.  If anyone is to know, at least it is the King. He has kept the secret of my face so far, though I doubt this is out of respect for me. If I give him a good enough reason, I trust he will remain silent on the matter.

“Three men came in here last night. I think they must have killed the guards, though…” I pause and struggle to remember through the throbbing in my head, “I did not hear any fighting outside the door like I did when you fought my last guards.” The King’s face becomes grim at my words.

“The men were hired.” I shift to sit up, but quickly lie flat again when the room swims. The King’s hand pins my shoulder to keep me from moving. 

“How do you know this?” he asks.

“At the end they were talking about their orders.”

The King’s face is expressionless. “Which were?”

I shrug the shoulder under his hand. “I cannot remember the exact words, but they weren’t to completely kill me.”

His gaze moves over my covered face, then he reaches a hand out and pulls my veil up. I hear his sharp intake of breath.

“That bad?” I look at him through my half a left eye and watch his features smooth again.

“Did they see your face?” he asks.

I roll my eye, of course he is worried about that. “No,” I say, but then a flicker of a memory hits me. I shake it away.

The King is already standing. “You are badly injured. You need to be seen to. I will send the doctors up to you.”

“No.” I grasp his arm. “I don’t want anyone to know of this.”

“You nearly just killed yourself by going down to the food hall, and now you don’t want treatment.” A torrent within him breaks and hot fury fills his face as he looks down at me.

“Do you realise how near to death you probably got? I have personal experience with how dangerous your kind of injuries can be, your head, your ribs. I think you are many things, but I had not thought you foolish until now.” His hands move in jerky movements, he confines them behind his back and glares at me, his jaw set.

Tears burn at the corners of my eyes. “I do not want to appear…I did not want them to think they won,” I whisper and turn my head away, completely spent; physically and emotionally. I do not want a lecture, I just want to be left alone.

There is a pause. “Would you let me do it?”

“No,” I say, weary of this argument now.

“You will not see a doctor, you do not wish for me to do it. Should I just leave you here to die perhaps?” he asks. I’m now accustomed enough to Bruma speech to pick up the sarcasm layering his words.

“You can go get me things to care for myself and I will do it,” I say, my patience snapping.

He stops and looks at me, his huge arms crossed over the expanse of his chest. “I have already seen you naked, I do not see why it is a problem. You were my brother’s. If not as a child, I would see you in the light of a…younger sister.”