One Thousand Nights (15 page)

“That would make it more like a fairy story, I think, but that is not what actually happens. All the names of the young women of the correct age are put in” — I paused, for in that moment I could not recall that exact detail. A basket? A hat? Oh, well, I supposed that one small subtlety wasn’t terribly important — “a small container, and one of the town elders pulls the name out.”

“I’m sure that’s terribly unbiased,” Besh remarked. “For of course they would never think to employ some gambit that would ensure no one of their own families would ever be chosen.”

“As to that, I cannot say. It did not occur to me to ask such a thing, but one would think that a being as powerful as a dragon might have some way of finding out that such tactics had been employed. I am not sure I would take such a risk.”

“No, of course you would not, for you are an honorable woman.”

I hoped I did not flush too much at his praise. Oh, how starved I was for even the smallest compliment from him, even if it was simply calling me “honorable.” Then again, I had been raised at court, and so I knew that in many cases, finding those with honor was a more difficult task than one might think. Perhaps praising my honor was not quite as pale a compliment as I had first thought it.

“Well,” I began, waving what I hoped was an airy hand, “that is not something the young nobleman divulged.”

“And so?” Besh inquired. “What happens to the Brides after they go to the dragon lord?”

“No one knows,” I said simply.

“What do you mean, no one knows?”

“I mean that the young nobleman told me the young women would go to Black’s Keep on the very day their names were selected, but” — I made sure to pause for effect — “no one ever sees them again. They disappear completely from the world.”

At that Besh raised his eyebrows and settled back in his chair before placing his wine goblet on the desktop. “And no one has tried to investigate what has happened to them?”

Ah, Besh, trying to attack the problem logically. That works quite well for calculating the angles of a planetary conjunction, but is probably not the best approach for a situation such as this.
“But you see, there’s a
dragon
,” I pointed out.

“There is the
myth
of a dragon,” he replied, tone mild enough that it didn’t precisely sound as if he was correcting me. “That doesn’t necessarily mean there really
is
a dragon. Something quite different could be happening to those young women.”

“Such as?”

When I asked that question, he actually looked rather uncomfortable, as if he could think of several quite unsavory things that might be occurring with those young women, none of them involving a dragon. But because he clearly had no wish to wander into such topics with me, he lifted his shoulders and reached for his wine. “I am not sure precisely. However, I feel that there are many more logical explanations for their disappearances than a dragon lord who was either cursed into that form or had the misfortune to be born that way.”

I widened my eyes at him, asking, “My lord, are you mocking me?”

“No, of course not.” His amber eyes took on a sly glint. “You are only relating what was told to you. However, I
may
be mocking that young nobleman from Farendon.”

“And have you no fantastical stories here in Keshiaar that nonetheless people take as the truth?”

“A few, but — ”

“Well, then.” Once again I feigned a yawn, then said, “But I fear I am too weary to debate you on this topic. We will let the dragon lord go for now. And I just recalled something a merchant told me once of the wolf-men of North Eredor, but if you have no interest in such stories — ”

“I did not say that,” Besh cut in. “Who are these wolf-men?”

“Their name for themselves is the
corraghar
, or so the merchant said.” I stopped once more, a real yawn overcoming me in that moment. “I am sorry, my lord, but it is very late. Perhaps I can tell you more of that tomorrow.”

He paused, gazing at me, and I held myself very still. In that moment I feared he had guessed at my game, and these two stolen evenings were all I would have with him. But then he inclined his head, expression one only of concern, as he said, “Of course, my lady. I would never wish to deprive you of your sleep. Let me take you back to your chambers, and we will speak of these wolf-men tomorrow night after dinner.”

I smiled and thanked him, but inwardly I was exulting. Thank goodness I had collected so many stories over the years. Surely I could keep spinning them out long enough for him to realize how much he enjoyed my company, and that I truly was meant to be his wife in all ways possible.

That thought buoyed me as he returned me to my chambers and bade me a good evening. I fell asleep that night with yet another smile on my face, envisioning a long string of such evenings stretching out before me, all with Besh more interested, more engaged, until at last he would take me in his arms and proclaim his love for me, tell me that he should never have ignored me for so long.

It was a pleasant fantasy. I could only hope that it might one day come true.

T
he next day Therissa
, in her guise as Miram, once again manufactured an errand to get all of the other maids out of my chambers, this time dispatching them to the storerooms in search of fabrics for a new set of underthings for me. Most likely this was a task Miram had undertaken herself in the past, deeming it too important for the under-maids to manage, but, as usual, they did not think to protest, only ducking their heads and scurrying from my chambers, whispering amongst themselves. Even if it was an unusual request, I thought they probably enjoyed the prospect of poking through the stores of fabric kept in the palace, and would no doubt stay away as long as they possibly could.

Which, of course, had been Therissa’s intention all along.

“Well,” she said, once we were safely alone, “how are things faring?”

“Better than I could have hoped, because we have now spent two evenings alone together with no protest from him, and we shall see each other again tonight after dinner.” I had been primping in front of the mirror, trying the effect of an ensemble of diamonds in silver with my white and silver costume. Or perhaps something that would show up more against it, such as the emeralds? Now I laid the emeralds down and turned toward Therissa, gratified to see her beaming in a way that Miram most assuredly never had.

“Oh, that is wonderful news, my lady,” Therissa said.

I smiled, but told her, “Therissa, as we are co-conspirators in this, please call me Lyarris. There is no reason to stand on ceremony when it is only the two of us.”

That seemed to surprise her, for her dark eyes widened, even as she protested, “Oh, no, my lady, I do not think I could be so familiar as that. You are very generous, but — ”

“What is so familiar about it? Really, we are related, as you are my sister-in-law’s aunt. In my family, we did not go around calling one another ‘my lord’ and ‘my lady’ — even though I sometimes had the distinct impression that my mother might have preferred it that way.” This argument seemed logical enough to me, although I was sure many might have thought my reasoning not quite correct. But my entire life had been one of rules and decorum and etiquette, and now, when I had only one person I could count as my friend, I did not want that person clinging to what I thought was a rather foolish custom.

Therissa’s lips curled up at my comment. “Well, I will do my best,
Lyarris
, but do not scold me if I slip up from time to time and still call you ‘my lady.’”

“I promise that I shall never scold you,” I replied. “And truly, this plan does seem to be working quite well. I have to take care and not stare at Besh with what my brother used to refer to as ‘goggle eyes,’ but I must confess that as Besh and I are talking with one another, I become so focused on what we’re discussing that I can almost forget my infatuation.”

A slight chuckle had escaped Therissa at my “goggle eyes” remark, but her expression grew severe at the end of my little speech. “I would not call what you have for your husband an ‘infatuation,’ my…Lyarris. You have come to care for him very much, I think, and are well past infatuation. Or am I misreading the situation?”

“No, you are not,” I said, attempting not to sigh. “Sometimes it’s like a horrible, empty ache right here.” And I laid my hand against my breast, feeling the slow, calm beating of my heart beneath my palm. “I have done my best to ignore it, but sometimes that is very difficult.”

“I can well imagine. But that ache will lessen the more time you spend with him, and once he wakes up and realizes that he has been hurting both himself and you by trying to hold you at arm’s length, then things will be ever so much better.”

“I will have to pray that you are right.” I turned from her then, and held up both the diamonds and the emeralds. “Which would you choose?”

“The diamonds, I think, for they sparkle more, and that will make it more difficult for the Hierarch to keep his eyes off you.”

That sounded like excellent advice to me, and so I clasped the diamond collar around my throat, even as Therissa hastened over to my dressing table to fetch the headdress and lay it gently on my hair. Yes, the contrast between the white gems and my dark hair was very good, and I smiled and nodded, then thanked her for her advice.

It was the least I could do, after all, for it was her counsel that was helping me to win my husband’s heart.

I
was
glad of my primping, for that night’s feast was a larger one than usual, given to honor Nezhaam’s father, who I gathered had been a great friend of the previous Hierarch and was still among Besh’s circle of trusted advisors. However, I worried that my husband would be so preoccupied with ensuring the guest of honor was properly entertained that he would quite forget my promise to speak to him of North Eredor’s “wolf-men” this evening.

As it turned out, my fears were not realized, for although the gathering did extend farther into the night than some of our earlier, more staid get-togethers, at length the guests departed, and Besh turned to me and said, “Now, these men of the north?”

“Wolf-men,” I corrected him. “But yes, I can speak to you of them, if you wish.”

In reply, he offered me his arm, and I took it gladly, feeling the strength of the muscles beneath mine, the warmth of his flesh through the thin silk that covered the lower half of my arm. Did he relish the touch of flesh against flesh as I did, or was he steeling himself against it, attempting to tell himself that the contact truly meant nothing more than it would if he had offered such a courtesy to another lady of the court?

I told myself to let it alone, that for now it was enough we touched at all. At least as we walked through the palace and those around us bowed when we passed, Besh and I gave the semblance of a happy couple. Perhaps one day soon that semblance would become a reality.

As before, we took our respective seats, but when he went to pour me some wine, I demurred. “If you have some cold water, that would do very well,” I told him. “I fear I had rather more wine with dinner than I intended, and I do not want to become so muzzy-headed that I forget something of what I am trying to tell you.”

“Wise as always, dear wife,” he said, the words thrilling me, even though I knew he had not intended anything exceptional by saying them. The servants had left a silver pitcher of cold water behind as well, and he poured some into one of the goblets that had been set out, then handed it to me.

I took it from him, letting my fingers brush against his as I did so. This was something of a test, for it seemed rather a more intimate touch than simply taking my arm to lead me here. He did not pull away, and I fancied that perhaps he let his fingers rest against mine for a second or so longer than was strictly necessary.

A thrill passed through me, my blood seeming to heat from within, although I did my best to keep my expression calm and pleasant, to not allow him to see his effect on me. I could have been mistaken in my judgment of his character, but over the months I had had ample opportunity to survey his behavior, his reactions to actions of my own, and being forward was not the way to manage this. Rather like a spider in her web, I would have to lure him toward me. Not that I intended him any harm — no, rather the opposite. But he, like the oblivious fly, needed to be unaware of the machinations I had to perform to bring him close to me.

Then he drew away, settling into his own chair. I drank some of the water he had given me, for in truth I was thirsty, and I knew we might be talking for some time. The amber eyes were fixed on me, waiting for me to begin.

I wanted to lose myself in those eyes, in those shimmering layers of bronze and topaz and warm brown, but I knew if I stared for too long, he would most certainly sense something was amiss. So I sipped at my water once more before lowering the goblet and holding it loosely between my two clasped hands.

“This is something I had from a merchant out of North Eredor, a man who — ”

“And did your brother the Emperor encourage you to speak with such men?” Besh inquired, his tone more amused than anything else. The gods only knew what sort of opinion he must have formed of the imperial court, based on these stories of mine.

“Oh, no — that is, of course he did not encourage it, precisely, but then, he was also very busy with the running of the empire, something you must know of as well, I would imagine.” I turned the goblet in my hands, feeling the smooth silver against my palms, the chill of the iced water within. “And it was our custom to have what we call an open audience once a month, where the people of the realm might bring their concerns or questions to their Emperor.”

“He made himself so available?” Surprise was evident in Besh’s tone, and he leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving my face.

All I could do was hope that no flush touched my cheeks under that intent stare. “Yes, my lord husband, he did. He thought it wise to hear what the people had to say, and to consider it as carefully as any advice he might receive from the great lords who were his councillors. For they were denizens of our land just as much as any lords and ladies, and so their ideas and opinions had just as much worth.”

During my little speech Besh had been listening carefully, brows drawing together as he appeared to ponder what I had said. “That is very…clear-thinking…of him.”

“Is it?” I lifted my goblet of water to my lips and drank, then went on, “Perhaps. It is something our father instituted during his reign, and so Torric made sure to continue it, although I always got the impression that some of his advisors would have been all too glad to abandon the practice.”

“That does not surprise me,” Besh said. “I can only imagine the uproar if I were to try something similar here.”

His tone was not precisely wry…if anything, it sounded disappointed, as if he wished he could have expected more of his advisors. I did not know what I should say, for I had lived such a cloistered life here that I had not enjoyed the freedom to see how he interacted with his own councillors. We saw each other at dinner, and on those rare occasions when he deigned to invite me to his observatory, and that was, unfortunately, the extent of our relationship.

But even with that, I thought I understood. For all its power and strength, Keshiaar somehow seemed to be looking back, hanging on to the days of its glory, instead of reaching out for the future the way my brother was. Now, some of those innovations I could have done without, such as the factories whose smoke and steam made the air around Iselfex hazy even on an otherwise clear day, but one felt remarkably freer there. Even I, as a princess whose days had been bounded on every side by custom and protocol, had the liberty to leave the palace — accompanied by guards and attendants, of course — and ride in the countryside, or go to the theater, or have a picnic on a fine spring day.

Here, I had done none of those things, and I somehow doubted I ever would. It was not expected of the Hiereine. I was supposed to sit at my husband’s side during feasts and look beautiful, and do little else other than that. And bear his children, of course, but I had not been allowed to fulfill even that particular duty…although not from a lack of wishing on my part.

“It would be difficult, yes,” I said. “But not impossible. You are the Hierarch, after all. Is your word not law? Would your advisors not be compelled to do as you asked, should you ask it?”

“One would think so, but….” He let the words fade away into the still air. “Such things are not as easy to put in motion as you would think.”

It was on my lips to protest further, but I quelled that impulse. He knew this land and its people far better than I. Besides, we had not come here to talk politics.

“I would suppose not,” I told him. “In any case, I had seen the merchant on an open audience day, and I thought it would be a good thing to speak with him, if such a thing were possible. North Eredor and Sirlende suffer an uneasy peace, for, as you probably know, those in the north do not accept what we have set as the boundaries of our realm, and are forever attempting to take back what lands they may. Because of this, we do not have as many travelers from that land as we do from South Eredor, with whom we enjoy good relations.”

“And so you sought out this merchant? He must have been surprised at such attentions.”

“Indeed he was. I had one of my ladies-in-waiting approach him as he was about to leave the audience chamber, then tell him that the Crown Princess wished to have discourse with him in one of the small salons.”

A smile played about Besh’s lips, and I had to tear my eyes away. In that moment I recalled what those lips had felt like, laid against mine as he gave me the wedding kiss, and I wanted to feel their touch once again, the heat of his mouth on my flesh. Warmth flooded my cheeks, and I went on hurriedly,

“It was all very proper, I assure you.”

“My dear wife, I did not think otherwise.”

At least he would think my blush had come from even the hint that I might have intended anything less than honorable with the merchant. Not that he wasn’t actually quite a fine figure of a man, tall and black-haired and blue-eyed, and probably no more than a few years past thirty. But I felt it best not to pass along that particular information.

“Two of my ladies-in-waiting were with me, and my maid Arlyn,” I said, in somewhat severe tones, and Besh’s smile only widened. “As you might guess, the merchant was rather confused by my request to speak with him, but when I told him one of my occupations was collecting tales from the various lands of the continent, he was only too eager to tell me what he could.”

“Of that I have little doubt, for what man would not want to spend a few hours in the company of a beautiful woman?”

My cheeks burned even more, if such a thing were possible. I did not know what to make of such a compliment. Oh, how I wished to believe that it was an indication of his further softening toward me. Surely if he thought I was beautiful, he must want me. Or was my perceived beauty an impediment? After all, the treacherous Hezia had been very beautiful….

Not looking directly at him, I replied as lightly as I could, “As to that, we also provided cakes and wine, and so perhaps that had something to do with his eagerness as well. At any rate, he told me of these wolf-men, the
corraghar
, who live in the hill country of the northernmost part of his land.”

“And are they truly part wolf?” The amusement in Besh’s tone was so subtle that I couldn’t take offense at it. Not quite, anyway.

“That is not precisely what the merchant told. Rather, they hold the wolves sacred, call them their brothers, go safely among them when a normal man would surely be rent in pieces by a wild pack. He said sometimes they would go hunting with the wolves.”

“Hunting what? Men?”

“Oh, no,” I replied. “That is, perhaps that does occur on certain dreadful occasions, but the merchant spoke of deer and elk. The
corraghar
are very reclusive, although in later years they have become somewhat more mixed with the rest of the society in North Eredor, as the current Mark’s father is said to have been one of the
corraghar
. Thani — that is, the Duke of Marric’s Rest — his sister is married to the Mark, and he described his eyes once.”

I recalled that conversation, where we had hidden ourselves way in an alcove at one of the unending galas held at the palace. Thani had spoken of his family, had talked of how much he missed all of them, with his sister so far away in North Eredor, and the rest of his relations still back in the south. It was during that conversation that I had begun to fall in love with him, for it was the first time he had allowed me to see something of the man behind his public face.

But I knew I should not be thinking of Thani, not while I was here sitting across from my husband, so close that our knees were almost touching. No, Sorthannic Sedassa should have been the furthest thing from my mind.

How much Besh had known about the relationship between the Duke of Marric’s Rest and myself, I was not sure, but he had to have at least been aware that we fancied ourselves engaged, and that I had broken off the engagement to come here.

For the longest moment my husband said nothing, while the silence weighed heavily between us. Was he wondering how truly intimate Thani and I had been, and whether I was now regretting my choice?

I could not ask such things, of course. No, I could only sit there and pray that he would speak soon, for I did not know what to say to him. Everything that rose to my lips felt dreadfully wrong.

Fate saved me then, for there sounded a knock at the door to the library.

“Come,” Besh said shortly, a brief flicker of annoyance passing over his face before he smoothed it away.

The door opened, and one of the guards stood there, bowing at the waist. “Most High Majesty, a thousand apologies for the intrusion. But the
visanis
is waiting without, and he says he has urgent news he must discuss with you.”

One of Besh’s eyebrows lifted, but he said only, “Show him in.”

I could not help wondering what news could be so urgent that it brought my husband’s chancellor here at such an hour of the night, but I supposed we would find out soon enough. The guard went away, returning a scant minute later with Azeer Tel-Karinoor on his heels.

By some unspoken request, the guard slipped back out to the corridor, leaving the chancellor to stare down at my husband and myself. There was something in Azeer’s expression that told me he was none too pleased to find me here closeted with the Hierarch, but of course he could not outwardly express his displeasure.

Instead, he bowed from the waist, hands pressed together before him, gaze fixed on Besh. “Most High Majesty, I have news…news which I believe should be given to you in private.”

Meaning, I supposed, without me present, for certainly we were private enough here, cloistered in the Hierarch’s library.

Besh must have thought more or less the same thing, as he said at once, “I have no secrets from my lady wife. Speak.”

No secrets? Well, I had managed to discover several that he would have rather kept hidden, but I did not know if he had any others. Perhaps not.

Lips thinning, Tel-Karinoor said, “Most High Majesty, through the grace of God, we have captured the one we believe was behind the attack on your most noble self. He is now in the dungeons, awaiting questioning.”

At these words, Besh stood. Unsure as to what I should do, I remained in my seat, apparently forgotten.