Trusted (11 page)

“No. It belongs to the king.”

“Oh. I see,” Isobol said with a secretive smile.

“Not you too!” Sarea cried.

“Oh hush. People will think what they will. Leave them to it. I am your friend and you will always tell me the truth and I will believe whatever you have to say to me.”

“Then…the king wishes to court me. Respectably. So…you must move to town. Please.”

“Gladly. Your mother will certainly welcome me under these circumstances. But I am afraid my wardrobe is not up to royal standards!”

“So what? This is my best dress and now look at it!”

The women laughed and then walked back to the tents. The pile of game had grown considerably in her absence. Jesso came up to her.

“And where is the king?” he asked.

“He will be along momentarily,” she said.

Jesso frowned. “I don’t like him in the Red Forest alone.”

That made her frown as well. “But he is not far,” she said, looking over her shoulder. Just as she did, the king walked out of the tree line and headed in their direction. Jesso brightened as the king joined them.

“That tusker got you good,” he said to the king, nodding to his injury.

“Yes, we must see to the king’s wound,” Sarea said briskly. “Get me some bandages, some water and a needle and thread. Some kettle greed as well to disinfect it.”

“Right away, my lady,” Jesso said with a bow.

“My king, please come sit in your tent while Jesso gathers the supplies. You must be parched.”

“Indeed, I am. I’ve only had small sips when I wish to take big gulps.” He winked at her and Isobol laughed to see her friend blush.

“You are incorrigible, my king!” she said, but she was smiling too.

“If you do not call me Garrick, I shall begin to take offense.”

“None is meant,” she said softly. “I just…” She was going to say she didn’t know what people would think if she did that, but then remembered her promise not to care what others thought of her. “I will call you Garrick when we are in private,” she said.

“But we are never to be in private,” he said with a wink and he brushed a hand down the length of her noose.

“Except when we do the best part of courting?” she asked archly.

“Of course! How could I forget?”

Chapter Ten

Those stolen moments that were the best part of courting seemed to happen quite frequently over the next two shona. Sarea was called to the castle for one reason or another every single day. And it was always daytime. He never asked her to night’s meal. And whenever they sat together, Isobol always sat immediately to his right and she the next seat over. It amused him that she refused to sit in the mistress’s seat, but would gladly put her friend in it. But Isobol didn’t give a fig about her reputation and besides, everyone knew who the king was really after.

Garrick was leaving the judging chambers where he held court proceedings once a shona, Jesso at his side, when young Dakon approached them.

“My king…I was wondering…that is…I was hoping…”

“Spit it out, boy. We won’t bite you,” Jesso said with a laugh.

“I was hoping you might choose me as your champion in the next games,” Dakon said all in a rush.

“Really? Jesso is usually my champion. Perhaps you should take the matter up with him.”

Dakon swallowed as he faced Jesso. Jesso had been riding the boy pretty hard these past two shona, hoping to see what he was really made of. So far he had held up well.

“Lord Jesso…if you might step aside this once…” Dakon said, bowing his head respectfully.

“I tell you what. You best me at swords, best three out of five, and I’ll stand aside.”

“Really?!” the young man squawked in sudden excitement.

“Boy, no one’s beaten Jesso at swords since he became Trusted,” Garrick said with a laugh.

“Give the boy a chance, Garrick!” Jesso said, clapping Dakon on the back of his shoulder.

“Solve it between you. I’ve other things on my mind.”

“Don’t you want to watch?” Jesso asked.

“Hold it before midday’s meal tomorrow and I’ll watch,” Garrick promised.

“Thank you my king!” Dakon said, tripping in his haste to leave them while bowing at the same time.

“You just made his day,” Garrick said to Jesso.

“And tomorrow I’ll ruin it.”

“Well, let him dream for the night. It took balls to come up to me like that.”

“He’s got those in spades. We lost another recruit last night. That leaves us with three.”

“What did you do to him?” Garrick asked, not sure if he wanted to know.

“It was only a minor injury. But enough to take him out of the running.” Jesso shrugged when Garrick gave him a hard look. “He challenged Killium to a wrestling match and got a dislocated shoulder for his troubles.”

“These fellows are bucking hard, aren’t they? Try not to injure this one. His sister might not take kindly to it and I’m trying to stay on her good side.”

“Yes, how is that going anyway?”

Garrick smiled. “Very well so far. I think she is getting more comfortable around me and learning not to take the gossip of the court so seriously. But I worry for her. I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“I find that amusing. Usually you just throw them in the deep end and let them sink if they will.”

“I had thought to do that, but when I saw how hurt she was at the hunting party…I took it as seriously as she did. I am not used to people who don’t want the prestige of my company. I am learning what an arrogant ass I’ve become.” He put and arm up to Jesso’s shoulder. “Why do you not tell me these things?”

“Perhaps we are all arrogant. We all act the same. Though it is not the same as you, there is prestige to being the mistress of a Trusted. At the very least it puts you in the middle of the court. There are women who would give their right eye to be so close to us.”

“That makes for a lot of blind women. I am tired of blind women.”

“I know the feeling. It does grow old, doesn’t it? All of the grasping and shuffling for position.”

“It used to amuse me. Now, seeing how it affects Sarea, it does not. I am losing patience with certain members of this court that I cannot afford to lose patience with.”

“You mean Gersa.”

“I do. She has gotten increasingly nastier to Sarea. So far Sarea lets it roll off of her and that does her credit, but all it takes is one wrong word and that could kill Sarea’s trust in me. Our trust is young yet. I would not test it.”

“If you banish her from court, you’ll have to deal with Tyron.”

“That is the only reason why she stays and remains positioned high. She is the leading lady of this court as long as I have no mistress and no queen and she knows it.”

“Tell me, Garrick, what are your plans for Sarea? Is this act of courting behavior just a method of getting her to bed?”

“No,” Garrick said with a frown. “Think you I would be so devious?”

“You have done maneuvering to get a woman into your bed before. Granted, not this much, usually your attention does not linger that long.”

“Ha! You make me sound worse and worse as the time passes! I thoroughly dislike myself now!”

“But you court her,” Jesso persisted. “Do you mean…would she possibly become queen?”

“Don’t you think it is rather soon to be discussing that? There would be much to consider before taking such a step.”

But Jesso did not miss the thoughtfulness that fell over his friend’s features. Therein lay his answer. Garrick may not realize it yet, but he was testing Sarea out for possible futures. That was when Jesso realized there was a distinct possibility that Sarea might one day earn a place as queen, and he and the other Trusted had best be prepared for that.

“Come, it is time for night’s meal,” Garrick said.

“Can I ask you…why have you not had Sarea come for night’s meal?”

Garrick shrugged. “It is better she is not seen in the castle after dark. It gives less opportunity for people to think their ill thoughts. I like her best in the light of day.”

Jesso nodded, but was again mystified by how the king was going out of his way to see propriety was satisfied. Garrick had never had much stomach for the rules of society before this. Yet now here he was, playing by them. And rather nicely at that.

“Come. I’m starving,” Garrick said, clapping Jesso hard on the back before walking away from him. Jesso had no choice but to follow.

Lord Tyron was seething. He had finally…
finally
…maneuvered things so that his daughter was primed for position at Garrick’s left and now here was this…
country bumpkin
standing in the way! Now, there had been others that had slid ahead of his daughter and ended up Garrick’s mistress, but none of them had felt as threatening to his plans as this one did. The king was acting himself the utter, besotted fool, trying to make everyone think he was courting her the old fashioned way.

And after all the trouble he had gone to to get Ulric out of the way! He had known that the minute Garrick’s final blood heir had been removed from the succession Garrick would have had no choice but to put an end to his bachelor days, take a queen and breed sons. And there was his daughter, the highest ranking single female at court, a lady of the utmost breeding sitting just an arm’s length away and ready to step into her role as queen and then…

Then this…this
girl…
this
nobody
…had gotten in the way! Where had she come from anyway? How had she even entered the king’s sphere? To think, his daughter had had to sit by and watch that laughable display at the hunt. And ever since that day the king had played the perfect, gentlemanly courtier.

“Why have you not gained the king’s hand?” Tyron railed at his daughter. “You must be doing something wrong!”

“I’ve done nothing! I strive with all that I am to be the perfect queen, but he rebuffs me at every opportunity!” Gersa said in frustration. She had kept her virgin’s noose for yana chasing after this one man, ever since she came of marriageable age she had pursued every opportunity to get him to see her, to place her above all women. And once, long ago, he had paid her court, whispering in her ear that she could become his mistress and then what times they would have. But she had resisted, knowing her virgin status was the only thing that would make him take her seriously. She would not give away for free what should be her only bargaining chip to entice him to the marriage bed. If he wanted her badly enough, he would have to marry her.

But his interest had waned as quickly as it had begun and he hadn’t wanted to play the game the way it was supposed to be played. Oh, she had since lost her virginity to a lesser lord’s son in a wild act of abandon, but then realizing what she had done, realizing what she may have cost herself, she had put a knife in his neck, keeping him from ever telling a soul.

It had taken her quite some time to get over that. After all, she had felt a true passion for the boy. But there was too much on the line and she had had no choice.

But if the king continued to look elsewhere for mistresses for his bed, then she would fast become an old maid waiting for him. Her father could have married her off a thousand times over by now, and she refused to whither away and die with no family to show for it…no sons of her own to bring pride to the family name. Her father had only sired one daughter and one son. Her younger brother Yeno was just sixteen yana old, only now becoming a man worthy of inheriting their father’s vast wealth and power. He too had been at the hunt two shona past and it had been his first. It should have been an event of much circumstance, but instead all attention had swung to the country girl and that very public kiss.

At first Gersa had been enraged. Then she had calmed, thinking this was just going to be another of his many passing fancies. After all, how seriously could he take a girl from the southlands? But then time had worn on and he had bowed to her, kissed her with great affection, always meeting with her in the company of a chaperone so none could say anything to elevate her reputation by placing her in position of lover or, better yet, mistress.

People were baffled by this behavior at first. He was the king. He could simply take what he wanted if he wanted it. Then they thought he was simply amusing himself, playing a game, perhaps teasing the girl out. But by the second shona now, people were beginning to think other things. Things like…maybe the king was serious about this girl from the south.

“You have done something! You’ve said or done something because he treats you with manners just shy of contempt!”

“Did you ever stop to think he finds me contemptible because I’m
your
daughter?” she shouted at him.

Her father backhanded her so hard she went flying back into a chair and table, tumbled over the table and hit the floor with a great exhalation of breath. Shocked, she put a hand to her cheek and scrambled to get to her feet as her father rounded the table, clearly in a rage.

“How do you dare to speak to me in such ways!”

He hit her again, but she ducked and threw up and arm and her forearm took the brunt of the strike. The reprieve was small and brief, before she knew it her father had her throat in hand, between squeezing fingers, and he was throwing her up against the wall so hard she saw bright lights bursting all around. He choked her, her feet dangling and kicking out as she tried to take a breath.

“Now you listen to me, girl,” he said in seething tones. “You’re going to do whatever it takes to remove that country girl from Garrick’s circle. I don’t care how you do it, just do it! You can kill her for all I care because if you don’t get this done that’s exactly what I’m going to have to do!”

Gersa’s father released his gagging daughter and she crumpled to the ground in a pile of gasping flesh. Tyron kicked her out of his way and left his daughter’s bedroom.

The minute he was gone, Gersa’s maid came hurrying over to her, gingerly trying to help her. Bringing her a cup of water. Gersa took the cup of water and drank it down as she struggled to get to her feet. She staggered over to her mirror and saw the damage that had been done to her face and throat…and it only promised to worsen over then next few hours. She couldn’t show her face in court until the swelling around her mouth went down and she could hide the bruises with her paint pots.

Gersa stared into her own eyes, stared at the spider webbing of blood vessels standing out on the sclera now thanks to her father. All because of Sarea. That girl had been nothing but a thorn in her side since this had all begun. Well, Gersa would do as her father demanded. She would get rid of her if it was the last thing she did. By any means necessary.

But she remembered what it had felt like to take a life. She had not been able to get over that quickly. It had affected her deeply. She did not want to have to go through that again…although she suspected she would feel much less badly about it since she felt nothing for Sarea and had felt a passion for the boy she had killed.

She would try other methods first before getting blood on her hands. If she failed…her father might do much worse to her next time. The only thing that would save her life would be that he needed her if he wanted to finally be related to the throne by blood.

But if Garrick took the southern girl to queen…Gersa’s life would no longer matter. She might be as good as dead to her father. No…she had to be rid of Sarea before something as farcical as a marriage happened.