Authors: Leslie Ann Moore
Jelena shrugged. “I don’t know. I figured he’d find out in due time…Besides, the look on his face was worth the wait!”
“Modest, huh! You’re wicked, that’s what you are!” Ashinji smiled.
That evening, the two families dined on the best fare Nadaka Castle could provide, which Jelena found to be fine, indeed. She could see the intense curiosity about her in the faces of Lord Nadaka and his family, but they were all much too polite to ask any direct questions, other than those concerning the details of the wedding.
After the meal, Nadaka’s six daughters staged a Bal Oku recital for the entertainment of their guests. Bal Oku—an ancient form of musical theater revered as high art among the elven people—employed highly stylized singing and dance to tell stories, usually tales from elven mythology. The slow, ponderous rhythms and droning quality of the music were not to Jelena’s taste; when the last chord shivered into silence, she felt an intense sense of relief.
“That was absolutely dreadful,” Ashinji whispered into her ear. She had to fight hard not to giggle as she clapped politely along with everyone else.
After the girls had collected their instruments and filed out of the room, Sen, stifling a yawn behind his hand, said, “Ai, Nadaka, it’s been a long day. It’s time my family and I were abed. We’ve got another long stretch of road ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Of course, Lord Sen,” Nadaka replied, rising quickly to his feet. His wife promptly followed suit. “Lady Nadaka and I are honored to give up our own sleeping quarters to you and your family. Your guards and servants are welcome to bunk down here in the main room, or out in the yard, if any would prefer to sleep under the stars.”
“Most generous of you, Nadaka. My thanks.” Sen inclined his head.
Jelena sighed inwardly.
I would much rather sleep outdoors on the hard ground than in the same room with Sadaiyo,
she thought
, but I can’t ask Ashi to give up the comfort of a soft bed, not after he’s spent all day in the saddle.
Lord and Lady Nadaka’s bedroom proved to be quite large, with plenty of free space in which to spread out. Thick, well-cushioned mats covered the floor, and Nadaka had provided more than enough bedding to make reasonably comfortable arrangements. Sen and Amara took the large bed and everyone else, including the twins, staked out floor space. The two girls chattered like bright little birds in a special language known only to themselves as they happily made their pallets.
Just before he retired, Nadaka poked his head in and informed them that the family’s bath house was at the disposal of anyone who wished to use it, either tonight or tomorrow morning. With a cheery good night, he left them to themselves.
Jelena assembled a cozy pile of blankets and pillows in the corner farthest from the bed, and after stripping down to her undertunic, she flopped onto the makeshift pallet with a grateful sigh.
Why am I so tired? It’s not as if I haven’t spent hours in the saddle before…I hope I’m not coming down with a fever.
Not even Sadaiyo’s close proximity could keep sleep at bay. She drifted off to the soft murmur of conversation between Sen and his two sons.
Later, she awoke to find Ashinji settled beside her, sound asleep. She lay still and listened to the sounds of the night: Lord Sen snoring softly from the bed, crickets chirping outside the open window, and from the opposite corner, a lot of rustling.
At first, she didn’t recognize what her ears heard until a sigh and a soft moan made it all too clear. The last thing Jelena wanted to be privy to was Sadaiyo and Misune’s lovemaking.
Gods…must I listen to this?
Misune let out a little gasp and Jelena buried her head beneath the covers. Sen snored on, oblivious. Ashinji stirred but did not wake. The sound of the lovers’ bodies moving together grew more frenzied.
Hurry up and finish, for the gods’ sake!
The thought of Sadaiyo so close to her while in the throes of sexual passion filled her with disgust. She wondered how Misune would feel knowing that her husband had attempted to rape the woman his brother loved, purely out of spite.
She’d be really angry, but only because her husband would consider dirtying himself by having me,
Jelena thought bitterly.
At last, the thrashing stopped. Jelena breathed a sigh of relief and emerged from her refuge. She tried to relax and clear her mind, but the peace of her night had been shattered, and now she feared that sleep would elude her.
She lay staring at the ceiling, wide awake and a little queasy. The light from the night lamp cast faint, dancing shadows on the wood beams above her head. As she watched, the shadows seemed to grow darker and then coalesce into the vague shape of a face.
At first, she thought her eyes were deceiving her. She blinked a few times, but the face remained; in fact, it seemed even more distinct. She could now identify a dark smudge of a mouth, the suggestion of a long, straight nose, and two black holes where the eyes would be.
I should be afraid,
she thought, but for some reason, she felt more curious than fearful, perhaps because Ashinji lay beside her.
Or maybe because what I’m seeing is not really there.
The face began to fade almost as quickly as it had formed until nothing remained but the flickering shadows created by the night lamp. Jelena blinked again, already convinced she had imagined the whole thing. She closed her eyes and willed herself to relax, and soon, Ashinji’s rhythmic breathing lulled her back to sleep.
~~~
Sen rousted them all just before sunrise. After everyone had a quick turn in Nadaka’s bath house, they sat down to a light breakfast in the main room with the Kerala staff. Three of Nadaka’s serving women circulated among the tables, pouring tea.
Ashinji indicated that Jelena should sit and he would bring them their food. While she waited, her mind recalled the strange vision of the night before. Had the face she’d seen been real, or merely a disturbing hallucination, fabricated out of night shadows and dreamstuff?
And if it was real, who or what is behind it, and more importantly, what did it want? Could this…this whatever it is… have been drawn to me by the blue fire?
Am I in danger?
Ashinji returned with two bowls of porridge and a plate loaded with thick slices of fresh-baked bread. A servant came by and filled their mugs with hot black tea. They ate quickly, for Sen wanted to get as early a start as possible. As she ate, Jelena considered whether she should tell Ashinji about the face or keep it to herself. She decided to say nothing for now; since she didn’t know for sure if the whole thing were real or imagined, she didn’t wish to unduly upset him. If it happened again, she would tell him.
After breakfast, Sen instructed Jelena to ride ahead again this day, and herald their arrival to their next host, Lady Shona. Shona was Amara’s first cousin and childhood playmate, and it had been several years since they’d last seen each other.
“I’ll pack my saddlebags and leave right away,” Jelena declared.
“I’ll come see you off,” Ashinji said. The two of them excused themselves and headed for the stairs leading up to the second-level sleeping quarters. It took only a few moments to collect her things. Before donning a light coat against the early morning chill, she tugged on the chain holding her father’s signet and drew the ring from beneath her tunic. Sliding the warm metal onto her thumb, she held her hand up before her eyes to stare at the stylized griffin inlaid into the onyx surface. Perhaps, if she stared hard enough, the ring would reveal some of what dwelled within the soul of the man for whom it had been made. Perhaps it would tell her if acceptance or rejection lay ahead.
If only it were that simple.
“You’re worried about meeting the king, aren’t you?” Ashinji asked.
Jelena slipped the ring off her thumb and dropped it back inside of her tunic where it came to rest between her breasts. She laid her head against Ashinji’s shoulder. “Yes, I’m worried,” she replied. “Maybe it would be best if he never knows about me.”
“If Silverlock is your father, he has a right to know,” Ashinji said, stroking her curls.
“Silverlock?” Jelena looked at Ashinji questioningly.
“The king’s hair is silver, hence the nickname.”
“Of course,” Jelena whispered. “My birth mother told Claudia that my father called himself…
Zin
.” She reverted to Soldaran, and said, “‘Zin’ means silver in Siri-dar!”
“Yes. Your cousin Magnes told me about Zin when we first met and I questioned him about you. I didn’t make the connection at the time.” He bent down and hoisted her saddlebag to his shoulder. “C’mon. It’s getting late. You’d better get going.”
He escorted her to the stables and waited with her while one of Nadaka’s stable boys saddled Willow and brought her out. Jelena swung into the saddle with practiced ease and adjusted her stirrup leathers while Ashinji secured her bag. He grasped her hand and placed a kiss—light as a feather—on her palm. His eyes sparkled with desire. “I’ll see you tonight,” he murmured, “and by the Goddess, I’ll not lie next to you all night again as if we were brother and sister!” Jelena drew in a deep breath of the cool morning air, trying to slow her racing heart. The merest thought of Ashinji’s touch sent shivers of delight coursing down her spine, sparking that peculiarly sweet ache between her thighs that only he could soothe.
Ashinji turned and retreated toward the house. As he approached the open doorway, Sadaiyo stepped through. The two brothers paused and exchanged words. Jelena—too far away to hear—frowned with worry as Ashinji pushed past Sadaiyo and disappeared inside. Sadaiyo lingered on the front porch, and as his gaze swept the yard, he caught sight of her. An unpleasant smile twisted his handsome mouth. Jelena’s chest tightened in disgust. Quickly, she gathered up her reins and turned Willow’s head toward the path leading out to the main road.
Sadaiyo’s sharp, sardonic laughter followed after her, stinging her ears as she rode away.
~~~
High above, in a sky aglow with the crimson and orange of sunrise, a raven traced lazy circles in the still air. Its bead-like eyes fixed on the road below, watching.
At last, a horse and rider appeared, cantering easily on the smooth, well-tended road. The raven spun on its wingtip and plunged downward, an inky streak against the brightening sky. It landed on the branch of a chestnut tree growing along the grassy verge some distance ahead. There, it waited.
A short time elapsed before the horse passed beneath the tree in a jingling, creaking rush. The bird’s keen eyesight caught a glimpse of the rider’s face—sun-bronzed skin, a melding of human and elven features—topped by a wild mane of dark, coiled hair.
The raven cawed—a harsh, brazen sound—and launched itself skyward. A compulsion to follow spurred it on, and it could not resist. Like a black arrow, it shot after the rider, maintaining a discreet distance so that it would not be noticed. The bird had no instinct left for self-preservation; for many days, it had gone without food, water, or rest. Relentlessly, inevitably, the force that drove it also drained its life energy in the process.
When at last it fell from the sky, another bird sprang aloft and took up the chase.
Sendai
"There it is, my love. Sendai Castle.” Ashinji pointed toward the west.
Jelena held her hand up to shade her eyes, but could see only what appeared to be a large, forested hill against the glare of the horizon.
“I can’t see the castle…only trees.” She squinted in a vain attempt to discern the outlines of the fortress.
“It sits at the top of the hill. You can just see the highest roofs from here. They’re covered in blue tiles.”
Jelena shook her head, frustrated that she seemed to lack her elven sire’s sharper-than-human eyesight. “Where is the city?” she asked, abandoning the search for the castle.
“You’ll see,” Ashinji replied. He flashed a wicked grin, as if keeping some particularly astounding secret. “Sendai will amaze you, I promise.”
They had been on the road for ten days and had another half-day of travel yet before them. The party had paused to rest at a crossroads. Some of the Kerala guards stood at relaxed, yet watchful, attention, while others took their ease on the soft grass. Amara and her daughters had abandoned their carriage and now rested in the shade of a horse chestnut tree. Just beyond the intersection, the road mounted a small hill. Ashinji and Jelena stood at the summit, gazing ahead toward their destination.
Ashinji slipped his arm around Jelena’s waist, drawing her close in a companionable embrace. His eyes sparkled with anticipation, but she sensed that it had nothing to do with her.
“What are you thinking about, Ashi?” she asked.
“How good it will be to see the Peregrines again. I’ve never been away from my company for so long.” Ashinji had spoken many times of his fondness and respect for the men and women of Peregrine Company. He derived strength from their camaraderie and professionalism, and they made his life as a captain in the king’s army more bearable.
“Will your people be shocked when you return with a wife?” she asked, playfully tweaking his nose.
He grinned and tweaked hers in kind. “Perhaps, but they will be pleased for me as well.”