The Commanding Stone Part 8

Trene made a disappointed noise. Claressa did not turn around to look, but easily imagined the young girl crossing her arms and pouting. "No chance of me sneaking into his bed at night then. But maybe the next time we're in town, I'll slip away for a bit of fun-"

"Don't even think of it," warned Verdel, the oldest of the group.

"I'm just talking. I wouldn't break the rules like that. But Ola.s.sa take me, I'd give anything to ride him for a night. The shoulders on that man!"

"You watch your mouth," said Verdel. "I swear, the filth that comes out of it..."

"Nothing filthy at all. I'm just saying what I want," said Trene. "There's nothing wrong with that."

No, there's not. Claressa admired the young girl's forwardness. She found it refreshing. Trene was going to have a difficult time in the castle, however, if she didn't learn to fit in a little better. The other women would make her life miserable. They'd find all manner of petty ways to punish her for daring to speak her mind. The fact that she was of Pelklander descent didn't help matters. While Claressa found her flawless bronzed skin-the girl never had the slightest blemish! It was infuriating!-and dark, curly hair alluring and attractive in an exotic way, they also clearly marked her as different, a descendant of a race of enemies.

But she was also irritated by their conversation, their lighthearted talk of men and s.e.x. She rubbed her belly and thought of the baby now growing inside her, and the one she had lost. She'd missed Gerin's coronation because of her first pregnancy. It had left her sick and bedridden, unable to travel. The physicians warned her that a trip to Almaris would almost certainly cause her to miscarry, and that if it happened at sea there was a high probability she would die as well. Baris had forbidden her to go, and so she had remained behind while her new family went off to see her brother crowned king.

While they were gone, she had lost the baby anyway.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she remembered the pain in her abdomen like a knife thrust. She'd been curled up on her bed in the dead of night, alone, in so much pain she could barely draw enough breath to call for help.

Verdel had heard her and rushed into the room. "My lady, what's wrong?"

Claressa had not been able to speak. The pain was too intense. Something inside her broke, and she felt a hot gush between her legs. She screamed, and distantly heard Verdel gasp and yell for Torlmek Arghan, the castle's Tanu physician.

Telling Baris about the loss upon his return had almost been worse than the event itself. She dreaded his arrival, worried about what he would think. Would he blame her for her failure to produce an heir? And in her heart she felt she had failed, that some flaw within her had caused her child to die. It was a new and unsettling feeling for her.

When his ship was sighted sailing toward the harbor, her anxiety grew so bad that she threw up in the privy. Ashamed, she told no one.

Baris had comforted her when, in tears, she told him what happened. She studied his face for signs of disappointment, of blame. She saw none, but that might only mean he kept his feelings buried down deep to prevent them from appearing in the lines of his face. She hated that she did not know how he felt, and that she felt too unsure to ask him, afraid of what his answer might be. Even if he denied it, would she believe him?

Now she was with child again, sick each morning and irritable and tired the rest of the time. She fervently hoped she did not lose this baby. Living with fear was a new and unpleasant experience for her.

Such things had been so much easier with Reshel. Her younger sister had not been able to hide her feelings at all. Whether happy, sad, angry, annoyed, Reshel's emotional state was readily apparent to anyone with eyes. Claressa had always thought her weak for her lack of control. Displaying one's feelings so openly left one exposed, with no ability to use the hiding of those feelings to advantage.

Yet she did hide her infatuation with Balandrick well, I'll grant her that. And Reshel's unimaginable bravery atop the Sundering was something Claressa still could not reconcile with the bookish sister she had known. A few times she secretly wondered if Gerin had sacrificed Reshel against her will and only told the story he had to protect himself and Reshel's memory. But that was even more unlikely, she had to admit. Gerin was strong, but he'd adored Reshel, and might very well have let all of Osseria perish rather than draw a knife across her throat.

The Daughters of Reshel were another irritant to her. There were none in the castle itself, but in the town of Ordeas at the foot of the bluff upon which the castle sat-the sight from the harbor of Castle Hurien perched above the town created the unshakable image in her mind of a vulture hovering over some dying animal-the strange cult had multiplied alarmingly when it became known that the saint's sister-and she simply could not grasp that the Temple priests had declared Reshel a saint!-was to be the bride of the baron's son.

Claressa shunned the members of the order as if they were plague carriers, refused to see them despite numerous requests for an audience, but in the town, it was impossible not to see them. They had even managed to acquire a small chapter house. She disliked being reminded of her sister's glory and fame, no matter that she had died to achieve them. Claressa now dwelt in Reshel's shadow, a rather startling reversal of how things had been in life, and she did not enjoy it one bit.

Especially since I can see no way of changing it. What she did is not something I can ever do or surpa.s.s. The G.o.ds take her, she was having trouble producing an heir!

"I'd love to marry him and have his babies," she heard Trene say. "G.o.ds, wouldn't that be wonderful?"

"Do you even know his name?" asked Verdel.

"Not yet, but what does that matter?"

Claressa turned about. She could not take any more of their nonsense. "Stay here. I'm going for a walk."

Verdel rose from the bench. "But my lady, we should-"

"I said stay! I'm not going to leave the gardens, but I am going to have a few minutes of peace and quiet."

She really could not wait for Therain to arrive. The idea of him married was still sinking in. She'd also missed his wedding and her father's funeral because of her pregnancy. The thought that her father was no longer in the world struck her at times with such force that it quite literally took her breath away. There were times when she hid in her rooms to weep quietly for him. It's not fair that I couldn't be there when they buried him, she thought. She did not like that he was interred in Almaris, far from their mother at Ailethon. She might ask Gerin to have their mother's body moved so they could be together. It seemed the right thing to do.

She could not imagine Therain without his left hand. It was simply too strange an image for her to conjure. She missed him a great deal. More than she would have thought when she'd left Almaris to begin her new life here. G.o.ds above, she even missed Gerin!

But she was an Atreyano, the strong daughter of a proud and strong family. She would adapt and endure.

Still, it will be wonderful to see Therain. I hope he gets here soon.

Claressa was having trouble sleeping. Midnight had come and gone, Baris was snoring softly beside her, but she could not get comfortable, nor could she stop thinking about their father and the strange manner of his death. Gerin and Therain had both written her detailed accounts of what transpired, but it seemed so...preposterous. An ancient monster appeared from nowhere, killed her father, kneeled to Gerin, and disappeared again? What in Shayphim's b.l.o.o.d.y name was going on?

Claressa rolled onto her side in a futile effort to relax. Her husband's profile was just barely visible in the darkness. She sighed as she realized another fundamental underpinning of her world had changed since her marriage. She had always been the object of men's desires, a woman they yearned and l.u.s.ted for but could neither approach nor have. She could dally with them if it struck her fancy to do so, but she was always in complete control. Their wishes did not count in any way.

But now things had changed. Before their wedding Baris had seemed a rather timid man. Handsome enough, true-she thanked her father for that small favor-but still, a man who would fall all over himself attempting to please her. She a.s.sumed that she would be able to do as she pleased. It seemed to her that very little would change after her marriage, other than the landscape.

How wrong she'd been. It did not take long for Baris to show an inner strength she had not suspected existed in him. He told her no, by the G.o.ds! A month after their arrival in Tolthean, she asked him to remain with her one evening after he'd expressed a desire to visit a friend of his, some son of a va.s.sal. She hadn't actually cared whether he went or not; she simply wanted to see how deep her influence over him extended.

"Not tonight," he said. Then he left without another word.

At first she was furious. How dare he do such a thing! The next few days she was distant and aloof, frosting the air with her mood, waiting for him to grovel and apologize. But he did neither.

"I'm growing weary of your games, Claressa," he said a few nights later. "I won't play them." He gave her a hard stare. "I suggest you soften your disposition or you'll find life here lonely and unpleasant."

She was so shocked she did not know what to say. A helpless rage built inside her, and she considered shouting a hundred hateful things at him. But in the end she did not.

Baris treated her with tenderness and respect, but he did not worship her. She hated it at first, despised that she could not wiggle her finger and have him come begging to please her. But slowly she softened to it. She found that if she were respectful to him, he treated her as something of an equal, discussing the governance of Tolthean or other subjects of interest to him. She had not the slightest interest in what he said, but the very fact that he talked about such matters with him made her, in some strange way, feel needed.

She did not love him. Not yet, and perhaps never. But she cared about him, oddly enough. And cared about what he thought about her, which created the unique situation of having her wanting to keep him pleased. Imagine such a thing!

Therain would be amazed if he knew. Of course she had absolutely no intention of telling him any of this. That would be- She heard bells sounding in the distance. From the harbor town, Ordeas.

Baris propped himself up on his elbows. It was too dark for her to see the expression on his face.

"The bells just started," she said.

The castle's bells joined the others. Baris jumped out of bed and went to the window. He threw back the curtains and swore.

Claressa joined him. "What is it? What do the bells mean?"

The night was black, moonless. But from their tower window in the castle they could see down to the harbor and the town that circled its rim.

Fires were awakening in it.

8.

Stay here," said Baris. "I'll send guards, but for now I don't want you to leave these rooms."

"But what if I-"

"I'll send word about what's happening as soon as I know." He stopped in the doorway. Flickering torchlight in the corridor cast harsh shadows across his face. "Please don't do anything foolish. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Then he was gone.

What was that supposed to mean? Don't do anything foolish? She fumed that he was placing her in the same category as her handmaidens, women p.r.o.ne to panic and hysteria at the first sign of trouble.

I'll show him who's foolish and who's not.

She peered down at Ordeas, trying to discern what was happening. She thought she could hear distant shouts carried on the wind. More fires blossomed, and it was plain to see now that they were not bonfires or torches. Buildings were burning, and in the light of the growing fires she could see people running up and down the streets.

There was a frantic knock on her door, then Verdel entered, followed by Elezan and Trene. They were all in nightclothes. Verdel and Elezan had thrown shawls over their shoulders. Claressa could not help but once more admire Trene's l.u.s.trous hair, unbound and falling to the small of her back.

"My lady, what's happening?" asked Verdel. The castle bells rang again. The very walls seemed to reverberate with the sound.

"A disturbance in the town," she said, gesturing to the window. It was hard to tell, but it seemed that she could make out columns of men marching from the waterfront, with people fleeing frantically before them.

There was a momentary flare of light at the harbor as a cask of oil exploded. Claressa gasped. Not from the explosion, but rather what it illuminated.

Ships in the harbor. Dozens of them.

The fire dwindled and the view of the ships receded into darkness.

"The G.o.ds take us all, did you see those ships?" said Trene. "Is it the Havalqa? Have they come to take us away?"

"It's not the Havalqa," said Elezan. "Those are Pelklander ships."

Verdel made the sign of Telros. "What are we to do?"

Claressa straightened. "We wait, and pray that our men kill these invaders swiftly for daring to set foot on Khedeshian soil. It doesn't matter if they're Havalqa or Pelklanders. They're invaders, and their souls should be sent screaming to Shayphim."

The women huddled by the window and watched the skirmishes unfold in the town. Every so often soldiers of the castle would cross the wall-walk or courtyard below them, whispering among themselves, their armor and weapons clanking.

"What news of the battle?" Claressa called out to a group of four soldiers hurrying along the wall. "Who are they?"

The soldiers stopped. She sensed they were about to ignore her and move on, so she quickly added, "I'm Claressa Toresh, wife of Baris! A quick answer, then go about your duties."

"We've word it's the Pelklanders, my lady," called one of the men.

"Just as I said," said Elezan. She tucked some loose strands of her honey-colored hair behind her ear.

"But not why, or how the battle is going," said Verdel.

"The why is obvious," said Claressa without taking her eyes from the fires in the town far below. "Daqoros chafed under the treaty imposed on his father, and now that the little whelp's become king, he's having a tantrum and throwing off his chains."

"These were once Pelklander lands," said Trene. "Maybe he wants to take them back."

"And you would know all about that, wouldn't you?" said Elezan. "You little spying b.i.t.c.h. I'll bet you're feeding information to them! That's why you've been flashing your t.i.ts everywhere! So you can get-"

Trene slapped her hard across the face. "I am not a spy, you fat stupid cow!"

Elezan's mouth hung open in shock. "You...you...!"

Claressa stepped between them. "Enough! I'll have no more talk of spies, Elezan! You deserved that slap, and if you say something like that again, I'll be the one to deliver the next one.

"As for you," she said to Trene, "try to control your temper."

Trene bowed her head contritely. "Yes, my lady."

Elezan rubbed her cheek and glared daggers at Trene. "Yes, m'lady. It's just-"

Claressa turned back to the window. "Don't try to explain. You'll only make it worse." She decided when this incident with the Pelklanders was over, she would send Elezan away. The woman would cause no end of trouble now for Trene, and she had no stomach to deal with it. She would send her to some va.s.sal's household and be done with her.

The battle was going badly for the Khedeshians, it seemed to her. The fighting was coming closer to the castle, the sounds of it growing louder, while the town itself had quieted somewhat, the resistance there quashed. Perhaps our men are making a strategic retreat toward the castle where they can better defend against the Pelklanders, she told herself.

The soldiers in the corridor pounded on her door. "My lady, I must have a word with you."

A soldier who seemed even more ma.s.sive than the solid oak door she'd just opened loomed in the corridor. She took note of his insignia. "What is it, Lieutenant?"

"Your husband has sent word that I am to take you from the castle at once."

Her heart fluttered, but she remained outwardly calm. She heard Verdel moan at the soldier's words and wanted to throttle the fool.

"Why? Is it no longer safe here?"

"My lady, I have my orders."

"And I'm telling you I'm not going anywhere without understanding exactly what is happening. I am not one to blindly obey. I require reasons, Lieutenant."

The big man paused to consider. He bent down a little and lowered his voice. "We fear the castle is going to fall, my lady. The Pelklanders have too many men. They captured Ordeas quickly, which was bad enough, but they also landed additional troops up and down the coast who are moving to surround the castle. It's one thing if we only had to defend an a.s.sault from the town, but with the enemy in the countryside-"

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I understand. Wait while we dress. Then we will accompany you out of the castle."

Her heart was pounding as she closed the door. G.o.ds above and below, the castle was going to fall to the Pelklanders!

Verdel was close to hysterics. Her eyes were huge, the whites showing all around her pupils, and her breathing came in ragged gasps. "My lady, what are we going to do? Oh, Ola.s.sa preserve us all, what is going to happen to us?"

The woman's panic helped to calm Claressa. "Hysterics will accomplish nothing. Go and get dressed. Don't dawdle! Your lives may depend on it. I'll dress myself so you can hurry. Do not question me, do not argue with me! We're leaving with the soldiers, and that is the end of it." As the women rushed off, she added, "And make sure you put on something sensible!"

The keep of Castle Hurien was nicknamed the Kettle because of its rounded shape and the dark stone with which it had been built, giving it something of the appearance of a large black pot. Claressa had thought the name ridiculous when Baris told her of it on their voyage here from Almaris, but her first sight of the keep convinced her of its appropriateness.

They were making their way down a circular tower stair in the Kettle when an arrow shot through the window and splintered on the inner wall. The hulking lieutenant ducked and swore. Claressa screamed and was instantly angry at herself for doing so.