Secrets of the Night Special Edition (48 page)

Keriam's heart sank. What if she couldn't rid herself of Aradia by tomorrow? "What causes this--do you know?"

"If the sole of the hoof is cracked, an infection sets in."

"How can you treat this--or can't you?" Her pulse raced as she waited for his answer.

He nodded. "I can treat the ailment with salt water, but it may take awhile for them to recover."

"How long?" Keriam held her breath.

Traigh scratched his head again. "Could take two ninedays."

"Two ninedays!"

Traigh looked as heartsick as she felt. "I'm afraid so, Princess Keriam."

Keriam sighed. At least he knew a remedy. "Very well. Do the best you can." She left the stables then, her mind in confusion, her fears mounting. How could this happen? The answer hit her like a slap in the face. Aradia!

* * *

In his ornate bedchamber, Midac Balor stood by his chest of drawers and raised the lid of a jewelry box atop the chest. Made of mother-of-pearl and rimmed with gold, it had belonged to his mother, who had bequeathed the box and its contents to him. For your wife, she'd said, whenever he married.

His mother . . . Goddess, how he'd loved her. But his father . . . He gripped the edge of the chest as memories flooded his mind, images he should have dismissed years ago of that cruel, domineering man who had enjoyed inflicting pain on his oldest son.

His mother, a kind and loving woman, had appeared helpless to intercede. But she should have . . . or he should have escaped. Balor had to admit that his love for his mother was tinged with contempt, for she should have protected him from his father's fury.

Discarding painful reflections--rejections!--Balor rummaged through the many fine pieces in the box, his aim to choose an item that would most please the princess. Then, perhaps, she might prove more amenable to his marriage offer. When he became king of Avador, she'd reign as his queen, a prospect that warmed his blood and sent his dark thoughts fleeing.

After much discriminating perusal, he chose a gold bracelet of the most excellent workmanship, studded with alternating carnelian and turquoise. Dropping it into his belt pouch, he checked his appearance in the nearest wall mirror, admiring his dark uniform, the glittering medals that bedecked his chest. His high boots shone so brightly, he could see his reflection in them. Gingerly, he traced the scar on his cheek, thinking it gave him a rather dashing visage, a look that attracted the women. He turned from the mirror and opened his bedchamber door that led to the outside, then strode along a narrow dirt path to his stables. There, after having his horse saddled, he mounted the black stallion and cantered the short distance to the palace.

He found the princess speaking with one of the cleaning women--a dwarf!--in the spacious main hall, the princess's smile an indication of her easy relationship with this miserable excuse of humanity. Several dwarf children lounged in chairs and sofas, books in their laps but their rapt attention on the princess. Why were they permitted to pollute this magnificent hall with their presence? When he became king, he'd ensure they were confined to their quarters. He shot them all venomous looks, and sneaking guilty glances at each other, they quickly returned to their reading.

Princess Keriam gave him a curt nod. "I shall be with you in a moment, general. Or did you wish to see His Majesty?"

"You, madam.” How dare she make him wait while she wasted precious moments on an underling? What a joy it would be to whip her now, to prove his power over her! His loins tightened at the thought.

The princess wore a simple gray dress trimmed in red and black plaid at the collar and hem, the silky frock revealing every curve. He imagined her without any clothes, her perfectly-formed breasts, her slender hips and long legs. His loins tightened further, and he turned away, pretending to study a vase of phlox on a side table. Catching bits of conversation, he realized she was asking the woman about her family, for Goddess's sake! Well, he'd stop that nonsense when Keriam became his wife, when she learned to recognize her master. Once they married, he wouldn't permit her to acknowledge such a creature's presence, unless to order punishment.

The dwarf waddled off, and the princess approached him in her easy, graceful manner. “My apologies for making you wait, general." Her voice was as cold as her expression, no smiles for him. "What did you wish to speak about?"

"In private, madam, if you please."

"Of course." She led him to the library across the hall, her gown fluttering around her ankles as she walked, her firm buttocks outlined against the silky material.

"Yes, sir?" she asked after closing the library door. No offer of a seat or refreshment.

He shifted his position. "Princess, you may recall the night of the Bel Festival, when I suggested that you marry me. Some time has gone by since then, so I'm asking you again, now. I would have you for my wife."

"General, I fear I can't marry a man I don't love."

"Think again, madam. Many marriages begin without love but achieve that happy state as time passes."

"But we never know, do we? We don't know if a marriage that begins without love can truly change in the course of time. Marriage is a chancy arrangement as it is, sir. Why take an added risk?"

Resolved to stifle his anger, he took refuge in argument. "You think your father will let you pick any man you want? More likely, he's already chosen a husband for you."

"My father knows my wishes, sir,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “He is in agreement."

"You are--how old, madam--nineteen, twenty? You wait many more years, and no man will want you."

"No great loss, general. Oh, I'll admit I'd like an affectionate husband and children, but if I can't marry for love, I won't marry at all. And I don't find the unmarried state a dispiriting one. There is much at the palace and throughout the kingdom that requires my attention."

A vein throbbed at his temple. "So your answer is 'no'?"

She tilted her head. "General Balor, I thought I had made that plain."

Goddess-damned slut!
He spun on his heels and strode across the floor, then jerked the library door open, banging it back against the wall. A vase crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces. He marched across the vast hall, his high boots clicking on the flagstones, and left the palace by a back door. Outside, he took deep breaths, clenching and unclenching his hands as he strode toward the stable, then mounted his horse.

Astride his horse at the edge of the palace grounds, Balor plunged through the trees and bushes that comprised a small woods separating the palace from the army barracks. His muscles tense, his heart pounding, he reached into his belt pouch and grabbed the bracelet. His hand shook as he hurled the bauble into the bushes. One day very soon, the princess would pay for his humiliation.

Revenge would give him such pleasure.

Chapter Ten

"'So they married one another, and that was the fine wedding they had, and if I were to be there then, I would not be here now; but I heard it from a birdeen that there was neither cark nor care, sickness nor sorrow, mishap nor misfortune on them till the hour of their death, and may the same be with me, and with us all!'" On a sofa in the main hall, Keriam closed the book of children's tales and smiled at the dwarf boys and girls gathered on the floor in front of her. The children remained still, their eyes focused in rapt attention.

"Now that I've read you a story," she said, "it's time for you to go to bed, so--"

"One more story, Princess Keriam, please?" a young boy asked, his eyes wide open in appeal.

"Yes, another story, princess," the others joined in.

"No, children, it's getting late." Keriam set the book on a long oaken table that flanked the sofa. "I'll read again tomorrow. Now, off to bed with you, and sleep well."

After goodnights were said and the children had traipsed off, Keriam headed for the spacious kitchen at the rear of the palace to meet Radegunda. The healer woman had promised to teach her about the medicinal arts, knowledge that might well prove useful. Twilight darkened the sky, but flaming pine torches cast dim haloes in the vast main hall and the long walkway that led from the hall to the kitchen. The heat and fumes from the torches within the confined space made her eyes water and prompted her to walk faster, her long dress fluttering about her ankles, velvet slippers whispering on the flagstones.

Thoughts of Balor drove every other consideration from her mind. Why had she spurned him so abruptly? Look at the harm he could cause to those closest to her--Maudina and Radegunda, but most especially, her father. If Tencien should suffer because of her refusal, she would never forgive herself. But what other choice did she have--accept his marriage offer, then renege later? No, that wasn't her way. Ever honest, she always believed in giving a truthful answer, as gently as possible, or not so gently, as in Balor's case.

What if the general hastened his schedule for the assassination because of her refusal? Worse, what if he decided on a slow, lingering death for the king? The plotters had designated the Lug Festival for their evil deed. Even if she and Roric could foil their plans before that occurrence, what would stop the conspirators from trying again . . . and again?

Dismissing her despondent thoughts, Keriam entered the still room and greeted Radegunda, who waited by a counter near the wall. Wooden bowls of herbs cluttered the counter, and recently-built shelves lined the wall above her, each shelf filled with glass jars. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, imbuing the room with a myriad of pleasant scents.

The woman dressed better now, Keriam was pleased to see. Clad in a deep green linen dress trimmed with brown silk piping, she looked like a successful merchant's wife. Shiny new brown leather shoes bedecked her feet, and even her face looked different, not quite so gaunt now, her cheeks fuller with fewer wrinkles.

Radegunda returned the smile. "Ah, madam, ready for more herbal lessons?"

Keriam stopped by the counter, inhaling the fresh, spicy scents of herbs and crushed flowers, aromas that always cheered her. "Indeed, I still have much to learn.."

"Happy to help, madam. I'm here to serve you and your father." Her hands moved nervously about the bowls, the stoppered essence jars, as she spoke in an undertone. "That Aradia, princess . . ."

Keriam tilted her head. "What about her?" she asked, although she normally didn't indulge in palace gossip.

"Well . . ." Radegunda twisted her hands in her apron. "Why does she stay here at the palace?" the healer woman blurted. "Madam, I hear the servants gossiping. They say Aradia's family disowned her long ago. And no wonder!" Radegunda made a sign of warding off evil: her thumb and forefinger touching, she flicked her right hand over her left shoulder. "She’s wicked, that one. I fear she will cause more trouble."

"No, she won't, because I've told her to leave the palace. She can return to Mag Bregha, family or no family, as soon as the horses have recovered."

"Horses, madam?"

"Every horse in the stable has a stone bruise--an infection–in their hooves.” She shook her head. "I don't understand it and neither does Traigh. But if anyone can cure the horses, it is he. Let’s hope they all recover, and soon. For now, I have other concerns." She smoothed her finger along the edge of the wooden counter, carefully forming her next words. "If you can practice magic, why can't you do something about this drought? I fear this dry spell will bring fleas, and you know how many diseases those insects can cause. Think of the millions of squirrels in the country that might carry a disease. What if we have another plague like we did eleven years ago?"

"Princess, I haven't been able to summon rain since these spells take practice, you understand. I've been so busy here with my preparations, that I fear I've neglected my magic. Besides, I believe evil forces are at work here."

Goddess, don't let it be so.
Keriam stifled a shiver and forced herself to deal with ordinary matters. "Enough talk. We could use our time better by dealing with herbs, don't you think? So tell me something. My maid often gets stubborn colds. What should she take for that?"

"Ah, yes, madam. There are many plants that cure colds." On her tiptoes, she reached high on the shelf and brought down a labeled jar. "Forsythia. Mix this dried flower with honeysuckle in lemon balm tea. It should cure that cold very soon and make Maudina feel much better."

The enchantress pushed the jar aside. "Gotta be careful about the use of these herbs and flowers." She tapped another jar on the shelf directly above her. "Foxglove, for instance. If given in the right amount, it c'n ease heart trouble. The wrong amount c'n cause death."

"I understand," Keriam said, now realizing how much she had to learn about medicinal plants.

"And another thing, madam. Please notice I've arranged the jars accordin' to their uses." She tapped the second shelf. "You see here? All these jars are herbal cures for the stomach, and right next to them, I have others for headaches. Now here," she said, tapping another shelf, "these here jars are for insomnia." Keriam nodded, thankful the woman had arranged the herbs in such a manner, for she had to squint to see the labels in the dim light.