WinterofThorns (3 page)

She put her other palm to his cheek and
stroked his lips with the pad of her thumb. “It would be my greatest honor,
milord Seyzon, and the full extent of my heart’s desire to belong to you and be
your wife,” she answered.

* * * * *

Joseph Vashteel ran a hand through his
thick salt-and-pepper hair. “Say again?” he demanded.

“I am going to marry her. I have asked and
she has accepted.”

Joseph exchanged a worried look with his
aide-de-camp. “Seyzon, you have only met the woman what…? Five days hence?”

“I have spent more time with her in the two
days since I woke than I’ve spent with any woman since Jackie,” Seyzon said.
“There is nothing I don’t know about her or she does not know about me.”

“Really?” Joseph asked in a sarcastic tone.
“Does she know you have slipped the care of your keeper and need your head
examined?”

“Be happy for me, Joe,” Seyzon pleaded.

“You cannot ask her to Join with you
without the express consent of Prince Vindan,” Joseph said, striving for the
only way out of a situation he obviously thought dangerous. “Or have you forgotten
what he did when one of his advisors dared disregard his edict?”

Seyzon sighed heavily. “I’ve not forgotten.
But we are not in Meiraman. We are in Ventura. I am in the field and therefore
I have the permission of our prince to handle matters as I see fit.”

“Not in this you don’t! King Nolan is your
Leigelord and as his right hand, Prince Vindan has authority over you. The
prince is your Overlord and it is his edict that states no lord who has sworn
fealty to him may Join without his express permission. It matters not if you
are in our homeland or on a distant planet in the Tabhartas Galaxy,” Joseph
pointed out.

Seyzon squared his shoulders. “I will not
leave Riverglade without the Lady Jana at my side,” he stated in a strong,
no-compromising voice. “Her brother will not allow her to leave without the
sanction of Joining having been bestowed.”

“Return home to Lavenfeld,” Joseph advised.
“Send word to Prince Vindan that you request an audience. Then is the time to
seek for permission to ask for her hand. In even broaching the subject with the
lady’s brother, you have flaunted if not broken Meiramanian law.”

“You worry too much,” Seyzon snapped.

“And you don’t worry enough!” Joseph
countered. “The prince may love you dearly but if you go behind his back, you
are courting disaster, Seyzon.”

“All will be well, Joe,” Seyzon said.

“Aye, well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,
you stubborn ass!” Joseph grumbled.

* * * * *

“I like this no better than you do,” Lord
Alden told Joseph two weeks later. It was nearing the midnight hour—the
traditional time for Joinings—and the two men were standing together in the
sacristy of Riverglade’s chapel. Alden would stand as surrogate father to his
sister and Joseph as surrogate father to Seyzon for the ceremony. Two highborn
ladies had been asked to stand in as surrogate mothers. Healer Cronin would
walk the bride down the aisle to her groom.

“This will not end well,” Joseph said. He
rubbed the back of his neck. “I see disaster in the making here.”

“I too, but my sister is of age—and past it
if truth be told—thus I have no control whatsoever of her,” Alden said with
disgust. “Our father saw to that in his will. Trust me, I have argued with the
brat until I was blue in the face but she pays no heed to my objections.”

“I have sought a way to stop this before it
is too late but I’ve not been able to dissuade Seyzon, either,” Joseph stated.

“Foolishly, I thought denying him the right
to take her with him to Lavenfeld would give them time to come to their senses.
Making Joining a prerequisite to them leaving together was a terrible
miscalculation on my part,” Alden grumbled.

“Seyzon has always been impulsive but this
has gone beyond recklessness into the realm of foolhardiness.” Joseph then
cringed as the mellow bass tone of a gong signaled his presence at his friend’s
side. He looked helplessly at Alden. “Tell me what to do!”

“Short of you kidnapping the warrior, tying
him hand and foot and flinging him over his mount or me tossing him into my
dungeon, I see no way out of this now,” Alden said.

“By the gods, I think I’m going to be
sick,” Joseph moaned. Once more the gong sounded.

“Best you go. There is no turning back
now.” Alden pushed against Joseph’s shoulder with the confidence of a man who
had—in a few short days—bonded with a man of like mind.

“The gods preserve us,” Joseph said, his
shoulders slumping. He turned and walked toward the robing room where he knew
Seyzon eagerly awaited him.

The Joining was witnessed by every
inhabitant of Riverglade Castle. Security was provided for those therein by the
Meiramanian troops that had accompanied Joseph to the keep. Other than Joseph
and Ernst, his aide-de-camp, no one among the troops knew what was happening
within the sand-colored walls of Riverglade.

Or so Joseph thought.

Just as the priest pronounced Seyzon and
Jana man and wife, a commotion at the back of the chapel swung the heads of all
gathered to the entrance.

“Sweet Merciful Alel,” Joseph whispered as
a contingent of men came marching down the aisle. He cast a quick glance to
Seyzon in time to see the color drain from his friend’s face.

Jana wrapped her hands around her new
husband’s arm. She had not foreseen this and that she hadn’t was telling. She
understood the ways of the gods and Their ladies and when They hid something
from you, it was not good. She closed her eyes and bowed her head, her lips
mumbling in a silent entreaty to the goddess.

Seyzon was still weak from the operation,
his legs wobbly, his head aching, but he had hidden all that from Jana for he
had not wanted to postpone their Joining. As he watched the members of the
prince’s Elite march toward him down the aisle, he not only felt weak, he was
suddenly sick to the core of his being.

When the first Elite Guard reached the
Joining party, he stepped aside for the two behind him. They parted—one to the
left and the other to the right—and behind them was Prince Vindan, a tight
smile on his face.

Those assembled leapt to their feet—the men
bowing, the women curtsying.

“Well, my friend.” The prince smiled as he
walked up to Seyzon. “Please introduce me to your new bride.”

“Your Grace, may I present the Lady Jana
Montyne.” Seyzon swallowed the bile that was creeping up his throat.

“Milady.” Prince Vindan took two steps
forward and held out his hand to her.

Jana’s hand was visibly trembling as she
slipped it into the broad palm of her Overlord. She sank into a deep curtsy, feeling
his fingers clamp tightly around her own. “Your Grace,” she said in a shaky
voice.

“Rise, milady.” The prince tugged gently on
her hand. When she raised her head and her eyes met his, his flickered. The
smile slid gradually from his face. He stared at her then slowly turned to
Seyzon. “I would speak to you in private, Lord Seyzon.”

Seyzon felt the censure of those words though
they were spoken without inflection. The look his Overlord gave him was like a
whiplash laid across his back. He bowed his head. “I am at your command, Your
Grace,” he said quietly.

“Aye, you are,” the prince stated. He
turned and headed for the doorway that led into the sacristy, Seyzon falling
into step behind him.

Jana turned a frightened face to her
brother.

“He asked for this,” Alden told her, his
gaze not on her but on Joseph.

“And will pay the price, I fear,” Joseph
agreed.

“What price?” Jana questioned.

The chapel was so silent, so still, those
gathered barely heard her soft voice.

“He did not tell you?” Joseph asked.

“Tell me what?” Her hands shook so badly
that she had to clasp them together at her waist.

“What happened to the last man who disregarded
the prince’s edict on garnering his permission to Join,” Alden answered for his
new friend and ally.

“Alden?” Jana asked through quivering lips.

“He was lashed, sister,” Alden said. “Three
lashes for every day since the fool first asked the woman to be his bride
without the prince’s consent.”

Jana’s eyes flared. “Three lashes per…” She
staggered. “That’s forty-five lashes!”

“Aye, but the man lashed was not Prince
Vindan’s Adjutant General and he didn’t marry the wench,” Joseph said. “Forty-five
lashes might well be a drop in the bucket for Seyzon.”

“Or the punishment could be much worse,”
Alden said. “We warned him. Joseph and I both, but he would not listen. Now, he
must suffer the consequences.”

“Alden, you must do something!” Jana
reached out to grab his arm. “Please!”

“Do what, sister?” Alden asked. “I cannot
intervene.” He held up his hand. “Before you ask, neither can Joseph.”

Fear had leached the color from Jana’s face
and turned her lips white. She turned her head toward the sacristy door that
had closed behind her husband. Try as she might, she could not force her
psychic senses past the portal to hear what was being said. Like all those who
were mutely waiting behind her, all she could do was rivet her attention on the
thick, raised-panel door.

His back to Seyzon, Prince Vindan Brell ran
his fingertips over the sacristy cretins, the cabinet with shallow drawers in
which the priestly vestments and religious hangings were stored. A chasuble lay
atop the rich mahogany cabinet. He moved his palm onto the garment, the fabric
catching against the heavy calluses of his sword hand.

Seyzon knew better than to open his mouth.
He stood near the door with his spine ramrod straight, shoulders back, chin up
with his hands clasped tightly behind him in parade rest. Only his eyes
moved—tracking the prince’s progress across the room. His heart was thudding
painfully in his chest and the healing wound in his side was throbbing to the
rush of his blood. His headache was getting worse and the sour taste in his
mouth did not bode well.

“Do you have any idea how angry I am with
you at this moment, Seyzon?” the prince asked. When Seyzon would have answered,
Prince Vindan held up his hand. “A rhetorical question, my friend. No need to
answer.”

Fingering the heavy brocade of the
chasuble, the prince gazed down at it for quite some time—tracing with his eyes
the intricate swirls of the pattern. At last he sighed and turned to face
Seyzon. He cocked his head to one side.

“When did you meet the Lady Jana?”

Seyzon cleared his throat—giving his
Overlord time to motion him to answer. “Three weeks ago, Your Grace.”

Prince Vindan nodded. He folded his arms
across his chest and regarded Seyzon steadily. “And when did you ask her to be
your bride?”

“Fifteen days past,” Seyzon replied.

A dark brow lifted. “Did no one counsel you
against asking her to Join with you without my permission?”

“They did.” Seyzon’s palms were slick with
sweat as he tightened his grip behind him.

“They,” the prince repeated. “I assume
Joseph warned you against it. Who else?”

“Milady’s brother.”

“Ah, Lord Alden. By all accounts a very
loyal subject though my guess is he’d turn on a copper if it meant saving his
heritage.” The prince narrowed his eyes. “Do you agree with that assessment?”

“Aye, Your Grace,” Seyzon replied. “I do.”

“Why did you not come to me to ask for my
blessing, Seyzon?”

Seyzon began to feel lightheaded. He feared
he knew what was coming and wasn’t sure in his present condition he could
survive it.

“Answer me,” the prince said in a pleasantly
quiet tone.

“Her brother did not want us to Join,”
Seyzon responded.

“Why not? Was there another man he wished
for her marry?”

Seyzon shook his head. “No, Your Grace.”

“Then I assume it was because he did not feel
you worthy of her hand. Does the warrior dislike you? Distrust you?”

“It wasn’t that, either, Your Grace,”
Seyzon said.

“What other reason could he have had then?”
the prince questioned, but before Seyzon could answer he held up a belaying
hand. “Wait, let me guess Lord Alden’s reason. Mayhap he feared reprisal if you
went behind my back and
did what you fucking knew I was not going to like
!”

The last words were shouted at him with so
much anger and acid spite Seyzon staggered back.

“Your Grace—”

“
Shut your fucking mouth, Montyne!
”
the prince bellowed. “You
knew
better. You of
all
people knew
what you were doing was prohibited!” He stormed across the room and reached out
to brutally grip Seyzon’s chin. “You fucking
knew
better! How
dare
you, Seyzon. How dare you go against me this way?”

Flinching when his chin was released,
Seyzon drew his brows together in an attempt to convey his regret. “I am sorry,
Your Grace. I…”

“Get the hell out of my sight,” the prince
cut him off.

Seyzon hesitated. He wanted to have a
chance to explain to his boyhood friend why he had disobeyed.

“That was not a request made by a friend,
Montyne,” the prince told him with narrowed eyes. “That was an
order
given by your Overlord!”

Seyzon stared into the depths of the
prince’s pale-blue eyes and saw murderous rage lurking there. One wrong word
from him might push Vindan Brell over the edge. Silently, he nodded then
executed a perfect salute before turning for the door.

“Send the woman to me.”

Whipping his head around, Seyzon felt icy fingers
of fear dragging down his spine. He knew better than to ask why his Overlord
wanted to see Jana. He dared not open his mouth lest Jana suffer alongside him.
Instead, he nodded slowly and turned back to the door.

Exiting the sacristy, he was struck by the
weight of every eye in the chapel looking at him. Jana’s tearful gaze bit into
him as sharply and deep as his enemy’s dagger had on the battlefield. He felt
her terror as keenly as the air he drew raggedly into his lungs.

“He wants to speak with you,” he told his
bride, avoiding the eyes of both her brother and Joseph.

“What did he say?” she asked, her mouth
trembling. She held her hands out to him and he took them. Her fingers were as
cold as ice.

“Nothing. Yet.” He shot a quick glance to
Joseph then away. “I think my punishment hinges on what you say to him. He
would not give me an opening to tell him why I disobeyed his edict.”

“I will tell him,” she stated.

“Be careful, milady,” he begged her,
searching her face for she was as pale as a ghost.

“I will make it right,” she told him.

Jana entered the sacristy on legs that felt
as though they might give way beneath her at any moment. Her Overlord was
leaning against a cabinet, his gaze intent, face without expression.

“Close the door,” he ordered.

She did as he bid then turned, dropping to
the floor, her knees hitting the wooden planks with a dull thud. “Your Grace—”

“I did not give you permission to speak,
Madame!” he snapped.

Clamping her lips tightly together, she
stared at him with growing terror, striving to quell her trembling.

“Answer only with a nod or a shake of your
head,” he instructed. “Did your brother advise you not to accept Lord Seyzon’s
proposal?”

Slowly she nodded, her chest heaving as she
struggled to breathe normally.

“Did he tell you what had happened to the
last man who went against my policy of asking for permission to propose?”

She shook her head for Alden had not—at
that time—told her anything of the punishment that had been meted out, though
she now knew of it. Neither had Seyzon broached the subject with her. If he
had, she would not have accepted his proposal.

“Then I will tell you,” he said. “I had the
man in question strung up in the bailey and my executioner took the flesh from
his back with a bullwhip. By the tenth stroke he was howling in agony.”

Jana whimpered. She was twisting her
fingers over and over themselves in the confines of her billowing skirt.

“Because of his offense against me, his
defiance of my rules, I can have Seyzon taken to the courtyard, his shirt
stripped from him, his wrists tied to a pole and I would personally take the
whip in my own hands and flay the flesh from his back or…” He came to stand
directly in front of her then hunkered down so he was at eye level with her. He
braced his forearms on his knees. “Or I can, as his Overlord and yours,
exercise the Right of First Night.”

Jana’s eyes flared. “Your Grace!” she
gasped. “I am…”

“A virgin,” he finished for her. “I
suspected as much. Doesn’t matter. It is your choice, milady. Either his flesh
or yours will be broken this night. You decide.”

“Please do not hurt him,” she pleaded,
tears falling down her cheeks.

He said nothing for a long while then
nodded. “Leave, but do not say one word to Seyzon when you see him. Say nothing
to anyone. Go directly to his bedchamber and wait for me.” At her look of
horror, he smiled. “It is only fitting I take you in his bed, the bed in which
he planned to take what is now mine.”

When Jana returned, Seyzon knew something
horrible had happened in the sacristy. Something had been said that had crushed
his wife’s spirit. He reached out to her but she shook her head violently and
eluded him. Hiking up her skirts, she ran up the aisle—the shocked stares of
the assemblage following her. Though he called after her, she did not answer
and was soon through the door of the chapel. He made to follow her and was blocked
by the Elite guard who positioned themselves directly in front of him.

“Get out of my way,” he said through
clenched teeth.

They would not so he turned only to find
his retreat blocked by two more guards.

“Don’t do it,” the leader of the Elites
warned, staring fixedly at Seyzon.

“Lord Alden.”

Every eye went to the sacristy where the
prince was standing.

“Aye, Your Grace!” Alden scurried forward
to bow deeply.

“Escort my men and Lord Seyzon to your
dungeon,” the prince commanded. “He will be staying there a while.” He switched
his attention to Joseph. “Commander, you are to keep everyone in this room
until further notice. Do you understand?”

Joseph snapped to attention. “Aye, Your
Grace.”

“You,” the prince said, coming into the
chapel, pointing at a gorgeous woman sitting in the front row of the pews. “Come
with me.”

The woman beamed and was quick to join her
Overlord. It was widely known the unmarried prince was as randy as his father,
the king, and grandfather before him. Those two men had sown seed far and wide
and the women who had caught their eye had been taken care of exceedingly well.
Though Prince Vindan was the only male among his father’s brats, his
half-sisters had given King Nolan dozens of warriors-in-the-making. Thankfully,
none of them stood in line to inherit the throne. The woman who caught the
prince’s eye and became his wife, who gave him an heir, would wield great power
in Meiraman when he gained the throne.

Lady Beatrice Saur wanted to be that woman.
Sultry lips pursed to entice, she hurried behind Prince Vindan, determined to
do whatever it took to become either his bride or his concubine. Either
designation would suit her just fine.

Thus it was a great disappointment to her
to learn after scurrying behind him up the grand staircase that all he wanted
was to be taken to the disgraced warrior’s bedchamber.

“Mine is far more comfortable, Your Grace,”
she said, brows drawn together in confusion.

Prince Vindan stopped so suddenly she
plowed into his back and when he spun around to give her an irritated glower,
she jumped back.

“Your Grace?” she questioned.

“Did I ask to be shown to
your
bedchamber, woman?” he snarled.

“No, Your Grace, but…”

He moved so quickly she had no time to
react. His hand snaked out and he grabbed her savagely by the throat to thrust
her against the wall. Her head hit the wainscoting and bounced back, a pitiful
whimper escaping her throat.