Authors: Deborah Chester
With one hand on
the open windowsill, he hesitated. The thin sunlight slanted across his face,
picking up the molded angles of cheekbone and jaw. His nostrils were etched
fine, and there was a hint of tender fullness about his mouth.
The door opened
without warning, and the healer walked in.
Startled, Elandra
whirled with a gasp and pulled her veil across her face. The stranger dropped
to a quick crouch, looking as though he would attack.
Only Agel kept his
composure, although he stared very hard at the stranger for a moment. Then he
shut the door as though his were an ordinary visitor. He glanced once at Elandra
with a frown, then held back what he had intended to say.
“Well,” he said at
last. “This is unexpected.”
“Agel! At last.”
The stranger hurried to him and gripped his sleeve. “You must help me at once.”
“I am with a
patient.”
“Gault above, don’t
be an ass.” The stranger didn’t even throw Elandra a look, although Agel kept
glancing at her. “Put her out, and listen to me. There can be no delay.”
“I will
not
dismiss her Maj—the lady,” Agel said severely. Red crept into his face, and
Elandra could have throttled him herself. The idiot would give her away yet. “Her
well-being is of the utmost importance.”
“Nothing is more
important than what I need you to do.”
But Agel was
drawing back with a stern shake of his head. He looked angry, embarrassed, and
disappointed. They obviously knew each other. In fact, there was a similarity
to the shape of their heads and the cast of their eyes. They might be kinsmen.
Watching, Elandra let her curiosity grow.
“Get out,” Agel
said coldly. “You are clearly up to no good. I will not get involved with—”
“It concerns my
master,” the strange said impatiently. He cast Elandra a worried look, as
though she might know whom he referred to. “There is trouble.”
“You are always in
trouble,” Agel said with asperity. “Have you run away?”
“Only you can help
me. I need an audience—”
“If you have run
away, or done something even worse, I cannot help you,” Agel said. “I have no
influence in that quarter.”
“You have the ear
of the emperor,” the stranger said. “I must speak to him.”
Agel’s gaze
shifted nervously to Elandra. “Impossible,” he said.
“May Faure burn
your ears!” the stranger said. “Don’t say ‘impossible’ in that pompous tone. It
must be done. Every moment is vital. Give me your spare set of clothes and some
wash water. While you ask for an audience, I will get cleaned up.”
The healer looked
exasperated, and Elandra had to smile behind her veil. This filthy stranger
clearly had no idea of how the emperor was approached.
“Well?” he
demanded.
Agel sighed. “You
are mad to come here like this. Why didn’t you send for me in the normal way?”
Even Elandra lost
patience with him. He was stodgy and stupid, for all his professional skill.
She could see the stranger was rapidly losing the scant shreds of temper he had
left.
“Healer Agel,” she
said imperiously, stepping forward.
Both men glared at
her as though they wanted no interference.
“If this man is
known to you, why do you deny him your assistance?”
Agel’s mouth
dropped open before he hastily closed it. “But I cannot—”
She gestured to
silence him. “The man is hurt, and cold, and has obviously walked many miles to
come here. He is in trouble and has need of you. Will you refuse him care?”
“No, of course
not, my lady,” Agel said, looking confused and frustrated. “But I must attend
you First.”
“If you will give
me the potion I came for, I will consider myself satisfied.” She reached out
her hand, and he reluctantly gave her the bottle.
“Thank you,” she
said. “Now care for this man.”
“I don’t want
that,” the stranger said, interrupting. “The emperor must be warned.”
“Of what?” she
asked. “What news do you bring?”
He glared at her.
“Answer her, you
fool,” Agel said.
The stranger
whipped his head around suspiciously. “Why?” he asked the healer. “It’s no
concern of hers.”
Agel’s face went
red again. “You lout. You have no manners. A savage would be better than—”
“You can correct
his manners later,” Elandra said, losing patience with both of them. She pinned
the stranger’s gaze with her own. “What would you tell the emperor?”
His blue eyes were
stubborn. He made no answer.
“See?” Agel said
to her. “He is hopeless, no one for your Maj—for you to concern yourself about.
Just a stupid, troublemaking slave who has run away from his master and wants
protection.”
“The law forbids harboring
a runaway,” she said severely. However, when she looked into this man’s fierce
blue eyes, she had difficulty believing he could belong to anyone. He looked
like the hunting eagles of Gialta. Even with tresses on their legs, their
talons blunted, and their wings clipped for training, their eyes remained
untamed. “Have you run away?” she asked gently.
His eyes did not
flinch from hers. “Not yet,” he said.
There was darkness
in his voice, a tangle of undercurrents and emotions she did not wish to unravel.
As interesting as this was, she could not tarry here for long.
“Take care,” she
said in warning to the healer. “Your oath is to help the sick, the injured, and
the helpless, but you may not extend that to sheltering runaways or those who
have broken the law.”
Agel’s eyes
narrowed. His face remained red. “I shall not break the law for this man, my
lady. I shall not harbor him, and I cannot give him what he asks for.” He
turned on the stranger with open resentment. “Always you cause trouble. Go!
Whatever you have done, I want no part of it.”
The stranger
looked frustrated. “Yes, you have always been more interested in preserving
yourself than in doing what is right. What hope have I of reaching the emperor,
if you will not help me? Would you at least carry a message to him?”
“No,” Agel said
without hesitation.
The stranger
turned on Elandra so suddenly she jumped. “And you, lady?” he asked
desperately. “Could you do it?”
She found herself
unaccountably flustered. “Do what?”
“Carry a message
to him.”
“I—I—”
“If I wrote it
down, would you give the paper to him?”
“Stop it!” Agel
said before she could reply. “Leave her alone. She is no one you may address,
much less command.”
The stranger
glared at him. “In this matter, I would crawl on my belly if it would get me to
the throne room. I have asked you, begged you. But you cannot dismiss the past
long enough to think of the empire. Now I ask this woman. I beg her.”
“Stop!” Agel
cried.
“For once, will
you not listen to me? I must speak to the emperor, and as soon as possible. It
is vital—”
“Vital for the
preservation of your own hide,” Agel said spitefully. “You have finally gone
too far. I know how you are. You have ruined your relationship with your
master— defied him, insulted him, or attacked him. And now you think you will
run to the emperor for clemency. As though the emperor cares one jot for who
you are.”
“You’re wrong,”
the stranger said. “It isn’t like that. It isn’t—” Breaking off, he put out his
hand and braced himself against the wall. He looked suddenly white and spent.
Agel hesitated
long enough to make Elandra angry again, but before she could urge him he took
the stranger by the arm and steadied him. Gently he probed here and there,
checking pulse points, examining more burn marks beneath the mud and soot.
“What has
happened?” he asked, his voice softer now.
The stranger
winced. “Trouble. Terrible trouble. He brought it on himself.”
“You were with
him?” the healer asked cautiously. “At his side, as usual?”
Wearily the
stranger nodded. He dropped onto the stool and sat there with his head down. “
Sidraigh-hal
,”
he muttered. “Brought him back. I carried him ... I don’t know how many miles.
We lost the horses.”
Agel gripped his
arm. “Where is he now? Is he hurt?”
“Yes.”
“Then I must
attend him at once. Where is he? Did you bring him here?”
“Gault, no,” the
stranger said, horrified. “I left him on the doorstep of his house, for his
damned servants to find. He can rot in his bed, for all I care. I’ve done
enough—”
“No, you haven’t
done enough,” Agel said. He strode to his cabinet and began filling a leather
pouch with items. “Why didn’t you inform me of this immediately? To what extent
is he injured?”
The stranger
glanced at Elandra, and his face grew tight and distrustful. He said nothing.
Agel sighed and
came hurrying over to her. “My lady, please,” he said softly. “I think it best
if you go.”
She stood her
ground. “And I think it better if I understand more of this intrigue, healer.
Who is this man who has come to you for help? And who is his master?”
Agel might have a
stony face, but his eyes flinched at her questions. Seeing that, she knew she
was right to be suspicious.
“Answer me,” she
commanded.
“Lady, I dare not.”
Frowning, he glanced at the man who had come to him for help. “Until I understand
what has happened, I can give you no—”
“Who are these
men?” she demanded more loudly.
The blond man rose
to his feet and advanced on her. “Put her out, Agel. Already she has heard too
much.”
“I cannot put her
out, you fool!” Agel said to him. “Have a care.”
“A simpering
courtier’s wife? She’s in the way. Already she knows more than is good for her.”
Elandra glared at
him and let her veil fall. She’d had enough of this overgrown lout who was
clearly up to no good. “You will tell me now who you are,” she said in a voice
of steel. “I command it.”
The man glared
back, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. His face was mulish with
defiance. “Go to—”
“Caelan,
don’t!
”
Agel said with a gasp. “If you value your miserable life ... if you value mine
... go no further.”
The man named
Caelan turned white, then a dull shade of red. He turned on the healer with
unmistakable menace and gripped him by the front of his robe.
“You fool!” he
snarled. “You had courage once. Now you quail and quiver even before a woman—”
“She’s not just a
woman,” Agel retorted, pulling free. “She is the empress!”
Caelan jerked back
from him, and looked from the healer to her and back again in plain disbelief.
Then his gaze returned to her, standing there haughty, angry, and unafraid.
Consternation filled his face.
He went to one
knee, bowing low, and said nothing.
The instant
obeisance and humility in a man so fierce, so masculine, so rough absurdly
pleased her. She hid that, however, and turned her gaze on the healer.
He looked as though
he wished the floor would swallow him whole.
For her part,
Elandra was busy thinking. The name Caelan sounded familiar to her. She had
heard it before, in passing, perhaps from the guards or some of the servants. A
wager ... ah, that was it. He was a gladiator, the champion of the seasonal
games. A participant in a hideous, bloodthirsty sport she was not permitted to
view. He belonged to Prince Tirhin.
Both men were
watching her. They read her face as she reached her conclusions, and they
exchanged a swift glance of dismay. Caelan, unbidden, rose to his feet once
more.
“I see,” she said
coldly, putting it all together. She turned her gaze on Caelan. “You are known
to me, by reputation and through my knowledge of your master. Tell me now, with
no evasion, of what has occurred.”
He swallowed, his
throat working convulsively, but he met her gaze steadily enough. “Forgive me,
my lady, but I can speak only to the emperor.”
The refusal, mild
though it was, was like a slap. She realized again that she had no real
authority. Even a slave such as this—arena meat, her guards would call him—knew
that.
“Mind your stupid
tongue,” Agel said to him sharply. “You have done enough harm to yourself
already without adding defiance to it.” He turned to Elandra with a bow.
“Your Majesty, I
ask forgiveness on his behalf. My cousin is a coarse knave, untrained in—”
Caelan tipped back
his head and laughed. Only then did the healer seem to realize what he had
said. Looking confused and embarrassed, he broke off his sentence and stood
there.
“Agel of the big
mouth,” Caelan said, his face still alight with derision. “First you betrayed
who I was, then you betrayed who she was, and now you have betrayed yourself.
As an intriguer, you are hopeless.”
Agel pushed away
from him in outrage. “I am
not
an intriguer!” he said vehemently,
glancing at Elandra as though to see if she believed his denial.
She gazed at him
with disgust. He had pretty manners for her, but question his authority even
the slightest, or even thwart him, and he grew petty and arrogant. He was a
toady, ready to flatter but equally quick to check everyone’s reaction before
he committed himself to any opinion. If she ever acquired any influence at
court, he would not rise far.
He stepped toward
Elandra, his face filled with consternation. “I swear to you that I had no
knowledge of these events. Our relationship is a coincidence. Whatever has
occurred—”
“Yes, healer,” she
said without interest in his continued denials. “Why don’t you confine yourself
to your duties?”
“Yes, Majesty,” he
said in visible relief. “If I may be permitted to excuse myself, I think I
should go to his highness and attend him if he will receive me.”
She looked at this
man, so eager to rush to the aid of the emperor’s son while remaining
impervious to his own kinsman who stood here injured and pushed to the limits
of his strength.