Secrets of the Night Special Edition (50 page)

BOOK: Secrets of the Night Special Edition
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Mind-numbing fear drove her behind an oak tree. She admonished herself for being discovered. Fool! Had Roric actually seen her? If so, what would he think of her now? Would he ever trust her again? How could she face him tomorrow? Even now, she could hear his accusations as he dragged her to the druids: witch!

 

* * *

 

Returning from the tavern, Roric stabled his horse and headed for the palace, wanting solitude and sleep, to forget--at least until morning--the dangerous game he played. But he mustn't reject Calum's report of a jackal, a tale too serious to dismiss.

He strode the gravel path that led from the stable to the palace, wondering if he could sleep at all. As he neared the palace, he conceived a plan. Perhaps if he visited Balor again with more information that would prove useful to the general, it would deflect any suspicion from
him.

Something moved among the trees and bushes, not far from where he walked--a spirit, as ephemeral as air. Recognition punched him in the gut. Princess Keriam! He stared, but the specter disappeared, prompting him to wonder if he'd only imagined it. Did the princess practice witchcraft? Talmora's bones, don't let it be true! He shook his head, convinced that strain and worry prevented clear perception. Or possibly tonight's drinks on an empty stomach had affected his brain? But he'd had only three mugs of corma. Perhaps three too many.

 

* * *

 

Aradia nestled in bed with Midac, warmly satiated after their lovemaking. She congratulated herself on her ingenuity. Only look at what she'd done to the horses, given them all a hoof infection. She'd stay at the palace as long as she pleased, and no stupid princess would tell her when to leave. Despite her satisfaction, a few matters rankled her, topics with which she must confront the general.

"I saw you talking to the princess recently," she said, her tone accusatory.

A short pause ensued. "Well, you see, I had hoped to marry her--"

"Deceiver!" She kicked his bare leg. "I'm only second-best, is that it?"

He laughed. "You didn't let me finish. I changed my mind about the princess after I learned to know you better. What good fortune that you came to the capital! And now that your cloddish husband is gone--"

"Thank the demoness! I married him only to escape that dreary village." She chuckled. "Even had some friends pose as my family when he visited. And he thought I loved him. What a simpleton!"

"Well, he's out of the way now. Once we're rid of the king–“

She sat up in bed. "When?"

"Ah, getting impatient, are we? All in due time, my dear. Now, let me finish. Once we're rid of the king, you may marry me. We can rule the country together."

She sank back down and snuggled closer. "And the princess?"

"I leave her to you. I'm sure you can devise ways to make life difficult for her, so she'll be happy to leave."

Aradia giggled. "I know a few poisons."

"Save your poisons for the king." He hesitated. "Or perhaps we will eliminate him some other way. In any event, I don't want the princess dead--No," he said as she jerked from his arm, "another death is one too many. We don't want others to get suspicious." He tapped her arm. "Remember, the army backs me, if only from fear, and that's all that matters. The soldiers know what will happen to them if they refuse to obey. With the princess gone from the palace, or better still, kept prisoner there--and you'll make sure of that, won't you?--I see no threat to our position or power."

"What about the new steward?" she asked.

"Gamal? What about him?"

"Can we count on his loyalty? You told me he's on your side, but as the king's steward--"

"Just wait until I rule the country. First chance I get, I'll test his loyalty. Then we'll find out whose side Gamal is on."

"And if it's not yours?"

Balor chuckled. "If not, I have a special punishment reserved for him."

"Ooh, tell me what you're going to do to him." Her heart beat wildly. "May I watch?"

"Ah, my dear sadistic witch. We'll have many punishment holidays when I become king. And you may watch to your heart's content." He reached for her hand and placed her fingers on his groin, which she found hard as iron. "I'll even put you in charge of the festivities. How does that sound?"

"Oh, I can hardly wait," she said, fondling him. "And I'll wager you can hardly wait now."

"Ah, yes, but sex is so much better when you, uh, don't rush things." He reached over to smooth his hand along her hip. "How strong is your magic, I wonder? Is it as strong as that old crone--what's her name--Radegunda?"

"Stronger! I can make a person see anything I want him to see. But sometimes I forget myself, like the time the princess saw us together, or thought she did. And you were nowhere near." She continued to fondle him, reveling in his quickened breathing. "At the time, I was thinking of you so much, I slipped up."

"Tell me how you did it."

She laughed. "You want me to give away my secrets?"

Balor bent low to lick her nipple. She gasped with pleasure, aching to have him inside her. "Never mind,” he said. “You're good at so many things. Now show me what you do best.” He mounted her, and with one quick movement, plunged inside her. “Make love like an animal, darling. Like a jackal!"

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

"You did well this time, sir. You almost beat me."

Roric smiled as he removed his fencing mask and gloves, breathing a sigh of relief at the swift onrush of air on his sweaty face. "'Almost' is the operative word, I believe. Now tell me what I did wrong."

"You still clench your left hand when you prepare to lunge," he said with a frank look. "This betrays your intentions."

Roric wiped a handkerchief across his face. "Something I need to improve."

The instructor nodded. "You can always improve your fencing. It could be a matter of life or death."

 

* * *

 

Hours before sunrise, Radegunda stepped outside the palace, greeting one of the night guards as he made his rounds along the courtyard walk. She held a lantern in one hand, a cloth bag in the other. By now, everyone at the palace knew Radegunda and considered her a friend, one they could trust to cure their ailments.

A warm breeze carried the scents of the courtyard, the smell of dry grass and night-blooming paconia. A quarter moon floated high in the heavens, accompanied by a multitude of stars; a chain of four brilliant planets trailed across the eastern sky.

The guard raised an eyebrow. "Rather late to be out, Radegunda," he said, a question in his voice. "Or early, depending on how you look at it."

She smiled. "Heard the horses have a problem. Thought I'd check on them but didn't want to bother Traigh or any of the stable boys."

"Madam, if you can heal the horses as well as you cured my toothache, we will all be grateful. Those horses can barely stand–all of them! No one’s been able to ride for days.” He scratched his head. "Strangest thing I ever saw."

"I'll see what I can do. Goodnight, Noland."

In a loft above the stalls, Traigh and the stable boys slept soundly, no doubt exhausted after all the ministrations they'd had to perform on the horses--soaking their hooves in salt water twice a day, day after day. On light feet, Radegunda entered the first stall to find a bay lying down, twitching his hooves.

Radegunda laid a gentle hand on his forehead, saying magical words meant to soothe, and immediately the horse settled down in quiet contentment. She held the lantern close to the horse's hooves, examining each one.

She nodded in satisfaction. "Ah, yes, we'll have you better in no time." Opening her bag, she withdrew a jar of ointment, a mixture of tar with camomile and garlic, blended with a special herb few people knew of because it grew only in the mountains. She had procured the herb, along with a magic spell, years ago from a wizard who lived secretly in a cave, high up in the mountains.

She applied the ointment to each hoof, saying her magic, placing her hand lightly on the horse's leg. The hay around the horse's hooves sizzled and smoked, a sign her spell was working. Fearful one of the guards would smell the smoke, she beat it out with her bare hands. She went from stall to stall, bestowing the same tender treatment, a blend of ointment and enchantment, until she'd ministered to each one of them.

Convinced her spells had cured the horses, she wished she could perform a charm on Balor and Aradia, completely change their natures and make them both so docile that they wouldn't threaten anyone. But her magic wasn't strong enough yet. Repetition was the answer; she had a myriad of spells she wanted to practice, but she couldn't do them here at Emain Macha. Besides her books of spells, she needed open spaces and absolute solitude, impossible to obtain at the palace.

 

* * *

 

Ravens lit on Keriam's windowledge, one by one. Smiling at their antics, she counted the lineup: ten, eleven, then another landed. Sunlight gleaming on their black wings, the birds shifted from one foot to another and tilted their heads. Their beady eyes focused on her, as if they had momentous news to impart. How intelligent they looked!

"If I spoke to you birds," she asked, "would you understand me?"

They nodded in unison.

Why, yes, they did understand! Well, this presented all kinds of opportunities, and who knew what occasions to use their intelligence might arise in the future.

Outside, parched brown grass and drooping foliage revealed the lingering drought. How she wished it would rain, not only because the grass needed moisture--indeed, it did--but also because she feared dry weather would bring fleas. Avador must remain free of the plague.

Keriam squinted in the bright sunlight, the heat blasting her face. She returned her attention to the ravens. "Well, my little friends. I must remember to leave bread crumbs for you. Or do you prefer worms? Sorry I haven't caught any of the slimy creatures for you, but you've taken me by surprise." She touched her forehead. "Next time, I'll remember." She smiled while the birds' claws scratched against the stone windowsill, and they dipped their heads from side to side. "But tell me what I can do for you. Or do you want to do something for me? Either way, I'm happy to see you.”

After the birds flew away, Keriam sank onto the bench, clenching her hands as her mind returned to the ever present problem. The Lug Festival was fast approaching, but she would not wait for Balor to make a move. If necessary, she'd hire someone to kill him. In the name of the Goddess, how could she hire someone to commit murder? Such an act would reduce her to Balor's level. Yet what choice did she have? She stood and paced the floor, clenching and unclenching her hands, wishing she could wrap them around Balor's neck. Her head throbbed with worry and tension. She could not--must not--wait for the general to strike first during the festival. Desperate plans formed in her mind.
Could
she hire someone to kill the general? Quickly, she discarded each plan as an unfeasible scheme; she could not slay someone in cold blood, nor hire someone to commit murder.

In any event, she must speak to her father.

"Have you thought of sending General Balor on a military mission?" she asked Tencien later that day. She took a chair in his office, arranging her cotton skirt around her ankles.

He smiled. "As a matter of fact, I intend to send him with an entourage to Elegia, to help coordinate our army with theirs, strengthen the military alliance. The general speaks their language fluently. There is much we can learn from the Elegian army.

"The wedding between King Barzad and your Aunt Edita will take place soon, don't forget." Tencien sat forward, clasping his hands between his knees. "You and I will journey to Elegia for the ceremony." His smile made him look much younger. "It's been a long time since you've taken any journeys. I'll wager you're looking forward to it. You may have a whole new wardrobe, if you like."

"A journey would be pleasant." Keriam returned the smile, reluctant to tell him a new wardrobe was the least of her concerns.

"When does the general depart for Elegia?" she asked, not conscious that she held her breath until her lungs felt about to burst.

"In a few days. I fear he won't return in time for the Lug Festival. He wants to leave before the rainy season starts, while the roads are still passable." Keriam released her breath in a long, slow sigh. "Of course," the king continued, "he regrets missing the holy day, but he realizes that duty comes first, one of the reasons why I esteem him as a military leader," he said with a level look her way.

Silently, Keriam thanked the Goddess that Balor would be gone, but new fears emerged. So what if Balor would be absent from the kingdom during the festival? That wouldn't prevent an assassination. He had others to do his will, and it wasn't many moonphases until the Lug Festival, not long until--

"Kerry, sweetheart, what's wrong? Your face has gone white."

Forcing a smile, she rose from the chair. "Must be something I ate. Perhaps I'll lie down for awhile."

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