You Are Mine (7 page)

A woman with lots of jangling jewelry,
an orange band, and no ownership tattoo, shimmies close to him. She
must still be under her Father's rule. She whispers in his ear. He
angles toward her and laughs, some of the chewed meat spitting from
his mouth. If the sacrifice and vomiting hadn't already sent my
hunger fleeing, he would. He grabs a cup of ale from a passing
tarnished's tray, sloshing half of it on the table. With one swig,
the cup is drained.

Up and down the table, men and a few
women are doing the same with varying degrees of crudeness.
Wilted-looking cabbage on plates every foot or so must be the cause
of the smell permeating the air since the tournament ended. Even
the foul-smelling vegetable is jammed in their mouths.

It's as if no one was murdered. And I
suppose there wasn't. A tarnished isn't anyone. Who would miss
them? Why do I even care? I don't know. It goes against everything
I've been taught, but it's bothering me. I want to push it away,
but it lingers.

Without staring, I try to watch the
tarnished. They move through the crowd with uncanny ease. Replacing
empty plates with full ones. Cleaning spills. Standing in the
darkness, waiting and watching for a moment when they are needed.
They are the shadows I've always been taught they are. But don't I
sometimes do the same with Father and my family? Stand back where I
can't be seen, waiting and watching. I brush the thought away. This
night really is muddling me.

Father comes by. Once he finds us, he
pulls me from the fringes, through the growing mass, back to
Thomas's side. A few people examine me, but don't bother long,
shifting their attention to my owner. Father stays close. He speaks
of Thomas and me, of our engagement ceremony in four weeks, of his
position on the council, of his relation to the new Chancellor, to
anyone who will listen and some who won't. His voice grows louder
as more warlocks gather. I ignore what I can.

The Grand Chancellor walks by the
crush surrounding us. He stops to talk to a wiry man, but his eyes
never leave the swell of people Thomas has gathered. Does he regret
awarding Thomas everything now that he has seen what has come of it
all? Not that he had a choice. Laws are always followed unless
changed and you can't change law in the middle of a tournament. Too
many women present.

A ringing sounds. I strain to hear
more. A bell chimes ten more times, barely heard over the din. I
allow myself one deep breath and tap Thomas on the shoulder.
Nothing. I tap harder.

“
It's almost
curfew.”

He drapes his arm on my shoulders.
“Eleven thirty already?”

“
Soon enough.”

His eyes narrow and take on a lusty
glow. “I'd best see you back then.”

I edge away. “You don't have to leave
the party. I can see myself.”

“
Nonsense. The party will
be waiting for me when I return. Won't you?” Affirmative shouts
clamor all around. “Not a problem.” He turns to his supporters.
“I'll return shortly, after ensuring my future bride doesn't break
curfew.”

Cheers and laughter follow us as we
nudge our way out of the throng. A few other women trudge in the
direction of the tents. Why do they have to extend women's curfew
on tournament nights? Balls I can understand, but this? I hope he
never wants to take me to another tournament. Though, as a
Chancellor's wife there is little hope of that.

He trips into a warlock at the edge of
the crowd.

“
Oops.” Thomas laughs.
“Had a bit too much to drink tonight.” A gray apology spell, the
kind I only ever see given to men, floats to the man he knocked
into. I don't think the light means anything other than an apology,
but maybe the spell does more than I know.

The man grins. “Win the tournament
tomorrow and we'll call it even.”

“
I will.” Thomas says,
earning him a cheer.

I sigh as he pulls me from the crowd.
We walk, rather I walk and he stumbles, as we move away from the
buzz. The noise weakens, and for a few minutes, there is silence
save for his greetings to those we pass. All seem to know him and
call after him.

Eventually, we make it to the tented
area. Most of the participants and spectators have been housed here
all week. Father, and mother, always stayed in the tents before.
Another reason for Father to adore having Thomas and his close
house in the family.

The first tents are all around my
height and gray. Men and women laugh and chatter as they dash in
and out of sight. These shelters eventually give way to ones
towering over them. The new tents are almost as large as my family
home. Though I saw them when we were shown around earlier this
morning, I still can't fathom why they are here. Who would bother
with such bulky things? They would be a lot of work to put up, take
down, and carry from place to place. As we move through the
unreasonable-sized shelters, the noise of others fades.

The only people left in sight is a
couple, embracing. This close, their height astounds me, but
there's something more shocking. Their touch. A Master can touch
his possessions, so I shouldn't be so surprised. Yet, this is
different. It has a hesitance to it. His arms drape around her.
Words pass between them too quiet for me to hear. The woman brushes
her fingertip across the man's chin before dancing into a tent with
a giggle.

“
Stupid Envadi.” Thomas
sways closer to me and trips over nothing, pulling on me. “Can't
even party properly. Shouldn't even be here. They'll only spy on us
more, try and steal our spells and our women. I'll show them
tomorrow when I beat the last warlock they have in the tournament.
I'll massacre him.”

I lean away from him as he chortles.
Suddenly, he switches directions and hauls me between two of the
tents. With his staggering, I didn't think he had much strength
left, but the little resistance I give might as well be
nonexistent.

“
What are you doing? This
isn't the way.” I tug harder, but he clutches me to him.

He moves closer, encircling me with
the stench of alcohol and body odor. I want to scour everywhere he
touches and breathes. With all the strength I can manage, I shove
him. He falters back, taking me with him. For a moment we totter
toward the ground, but I lean backward saving us from falling. He
snarls.

“
None of that, wench. My
possessions don't get away from me. Besides, we'll be married soon
enough, I just want a little taste.”

My pulse quickens. “No.”

The leer morphs into a snarl. “Don't
you dare tell me no.”

Grabbing a fistful of hair, he yanks
my head back. I scream. His hand clamps down on my mouth. Panic
bubbles in me. I fight it and let anger boil from deep within. I
didn't mean to steady him, as well. If only he would get his hands
off me.

Punishments have never included such
close contact. Tears build in my eyes. I can't let him compromise
me. Even if I have to break other laws to do it. I just want him
off. I get ready to knee him in the one place I know will weaken
his hold. The one place a woman is never to harm.

A hand grabs my shoulder. I'm caught.
Will they tarnish me if I didn't commit the offense? Time slows. A
fist swings toward me. Before I can pull back, it slams into
Thomas's face. He flies backward into the tent wall. It sags
against his weight until he crumples to the ground.

I stare down at him. What just
happened? Did someone accidentally hit Thomas instead of me? I look
at the hand that steadies me, and move my gaze up. He's taller than
any man I've ever met. About a foot taller than me. An
Envadi.

“
Why're you standing
around?” He spits and kicks Thomas in the stomach.

I blink. He meant to hit Thomas? And
kick him? What did Thomas do to him to cause such anger? If he's
willing to do that to another warlock, what are the Envadi willing
to do to me? I grasp my trembling hands together. Going to the tent
should be my goal, but I can't move. Thomas is still motionless on
the ground.

“
He'll live. Get a move
on.”

He shifts far enough to the side that
I can skirt past him. If he wants to keep his anger directed at
Thomas, I won't stop him. My feet can finally move. I need no more
encouragement. Not looking at Thomas again, I dart past and break
into a run. The large tents give way to orange tents my height. My
breaths are short, painful gasps.

More people mill about, mostly women,
but a few warlocks stand guard around the edges of the tents. While
steadying my breathing, I slow to a fast walk until I'm safely
inside my tent. A slew of women look up as I stumble in. The cots
fill the tent barely leaving room to walk.

As soon as she spies me, Cynthia
weaves her way to me. “What happened?”

“
I
—
I...”

“
You're shaking. Follow
me.” She guides me to my cot and helps me sit. The tent is almost
full. Most of the women must be in already. And they're all
watching me.

I give a shy smile and say loudly,
“Too much partying for me, I think.”

The women return to their own
business, a low hum of words. A few snippets of Thomas's name. My
hands shake.

Cynthia settles next to me and leans
closer. “What really happened”

I pick a twig off my dress. “Thomas
insisted on walking me.”

When I stay silent Cynthia says, “Did
something happen with him?”

A cold wave washes over me. I rub my
arms. “Almost. It almost did.” My voice catches. “But Cynthia,
someone came.” The women around us are still paying us no mind.
Just to be safe, I lower my voice further. “Before he could do
anything, Thomas was knocked out by an Envadi.”

She gasps. The women closest to us
look at her. She gives a false laugh. “There were mimes? I
shouldn't have come back early.”

After the women turn away from us, I
whisper, “What's a mime?”

She shrugs. “Don't know. I've been
listening to the others. Did anyone else witness it?”

“
No one. Only Thomas and
he were there.”

“
Chancellor Thomas. You've
got to remember that.” She shakes her head. “Is he
angry?”

“
I don't know. He wasn't
conscious when I left.” I swallow when I realize what that could
mean for me when he wakes. “The Envadi said he'd be fine. Thomas
had a lot to drink though.”

She lifts her eyebrows at me. “And you
left him?”

“
I had to return before
curfew. Besides, he was making me uncomfortable.”

She bites her lower lip. “Turn around.
I'll help you out of your dress.”

I twist until my back faces her. As
she unfastens my dress, I think of Thomas and the Envadi. Their
barbaric ways are widely known. The one that attacked Thomas had
continued to kick him after he was down and unconscious. Yet, I
don't know what would have become of me if the Envadi had not come
along. Which of the two is really worse? I can't decide, but my
mind keeps remembering Thomas laying on the ground, the Envadi
looming over him.

Chapter Six

A
s Cynthia and I leave the tented area, Father strides toward
us. I keep my expression serene despite the quivering inside
me.

“
Why weren't you here
sooner? Chancellor Thomas's duel is about to start.” He squeezes
both our upper arms and directs us to the box. I hold back a wince
at his grip. “He was furious he didn't see you this morning,
Serena.”

Fear pricks my heart. I took as long
as I could getting ready, even applying extra face paint to delay
this moment. We enter the box. “Did he say what he
wanted?”

“
What do you think he
wanted?” Father lets go and I scurry to my chair.

To tarnish me for my crimes, for not
letting him be my Master. For leaving him unattended while
unconscious with an Envadi. My sins are many.

“
You're his bride,” Father
says. “Everyone was asking after him this morning and he wanted you
at his side. Once he came to himself that is. Woke in the Envadi
section of camp not remembering how he got there. Drank a bit too
much last night if you ask me. Took some extra spells to fix
that.”

I relax into my chair. He doesn't
remember what happened. Cynthia and I exchange a glance. The
wrinkles in her forehead smooth.

Though I shouldn't speak, I can't help
but try to take the conversation somewhere safer. “Is he the first
duel of the day?”

“
Yes. He's paired against
that Envadi. Massive brute that. Must be what's gotten him this
far. No other Envadi have made it to the last day. Should be easy
enough for Chancellor Thomas to best him. With any luck, he'll take
the day. Not that he needs the prize money now.” Father chuckles.
It stops when he looks at me. “Why am I wasting this talk on you
halfwits?”

He storms out of the box. I don't
watch to see if he's going to Thomas or somewhere else. What
happens to Thomas gives me no concern. Win or lose, I'm still his.
Unless he does remember something from last night that he didn't
want to discuss with Father, only me. I shift in my chair. Even if
he does want to talk to me about it, I'm going home tomorrow. I
won't have to use this facade much longer. By the time we are
living under the same roof, as a Chancellor he should have other
things to occupy him. Still, I'll have to come back and return to
masking my feelings toward him.