Binding Spell (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms) (7 page)

To say I was relieved would be an understatement. I stared at him, letting the import of his words sink in. So might an innocent man sentenced to die feel when given a last-minute reprieve at the gallows. Until that moment I hadn’t realized how dreadfully I had feared this night.

Apparently my shocked silence discomfited him, for he went on, “We will share these rooms, for we must keep up the appearance of a true marriage. Your things have already been brought here. May I have at least your cooperation in this?”

“Of course,” I agreed at last. If he wanted to perpetuate such a fiction, I saw no harm in following along.

He didn’t relax precisely, but I did see some of the tension leave his shoulders. “My thanks for that. As it is late, I believe we should retire for the night. I’ll just retrieve some blankets from the wardrobe in the next room — ”

With those words it finally sank in that he really did intend to sleep in here on the divan. I had a sudden recollection of his long legs dangling over the arm of a similar piece of furniture back at his hunting lodge and felt compelled to say, “Oh, no, you mustn’t!”

A startled lift of the level dark brows, followed by the dawning of a certain terrible hope in his eyes. Oh, dear. I hadn’t intended for him to think
that
.

“I mean — that is, I am much smaller than you. I should be the one sleeping out here on the divan.”

“I would not ask a lady to do such a thing.”

“But you’re not asking. I’m offering.”

Apparently flummoxed, he looked from me to the divan and back again. Then he said, “You continue to surprise me, Lark Sedassa. Well, my back does thank you, even though honor tells me I should protest a bit more.”

“Go ahead, if it makes you feel better.” Relief made me giddy, and I laughed. “But it won’t make me change my mind. Really, the divan looks entirely comfortable, and I am not so tall that there is any worry as to my feet hanging off the edge.”

He shook his head, even as his mouth twisted in a grin. “Truth be told, you will probably be much warmer out here, as the bedchamber lacks a fireplace.”

“Well, there you have it.”

Still shaking his head, he left me to fetch the promised bedclothes from the sleeping chamber. After he returned, I took the sheets from him and covered the divan’s cushions as best I could, then spread a heavy wool blanket over everything.

Even with separate sleeping arrangements, some awkwardness ensued when I had to use his wash basin to clean my face and teeth for the night, but I told myself that the situation was a hundred times less unpleasant than it could have been, given what I had feared would transpire this evening. I retrieved my sleeping chemise from the drawer where Beranne or one of the other servants had stowed it, then bade Kadar good night. His golden eyes gleamed in the dimly lit room as he watched me go, but he said only,

“Sleep well, Lark.”

I replied with a muffled, “Good night,” then went out to the main room and my makeshift sleeping accommodations. I had to struggle with the lacings of my elegant gown, but the last thing I wanted was to ask Kadar for help with the recalcitrant cords. Eventually I got them loose enough that I could pull the gown over my head, followed by the silk chemise. I climbed into my much warmer nightwear, and then sank down on the divan and pulled the covers up to my chin. The last thing I saw as I drifted off into a much more peaceful slumber than I had expected were the dancing flames in the hearth.

So passed my wedding night.

A
knock
at the door woke me. I sat upright, clutching sheets and blankets to my breast as I blinked at the unfamiliar surroundings. At first I could not think where I was, but then my focus sharpened on the last bit of glowing coals in the hearth, the dim shapes painted on the frescoed walls. Kadar Arkalis’ chambers. From behind the heavy figured wool curtains I saw faint traces of daylight, although the room itself remained quite dark.

“Your Highness?” came a tentative female voice I did not recognize. “I’ve brought up your breakfast.”

I knew then if I wanted to maintain the fiction that Kadar and I had spent any kind of normal wedding night, I must remove myself from the divan immediately. Hurriedly I gathered up my borrowed sheets and blankets and bolted for the door to his bedchamber. As I approached, it opened, and I ran straight into him.

“Easy,” he said, reaching out to catch me by the shoulders. “It is far too early for such haste.”

“There’s someone at the door,” I replied. I tried to avoid looking at the expanse of tanned throat and chest the deeply slit neckline of his sleeping tunic exposed. At least he was not completely bare-chested. “I thought — that is, I guessed perhaps the servants shouldn’t find me on the divan.”

“How thoughtful of you. Do come in, then.”

He stepped out of my way and spread a hand in the direction of the bed. As there didn’t seem to be time for anything else, I paused by the chest at the foot of the bed and quickly stuffed the sheets and blankets I carried inside, then awkwardly clambered onto the green-hung bedstead and pulled the covers up to my chin.

From the doorway Kadar called out, “Come in,” then returned to the bed and climbed in next to me. The frame creaked and shifted with his weight. I bit my lip and gazed up at the green damask canopy above me so I would not have to look at him.

A moment later I heard the same unfamiliar woman’s voice. “I trust it is not too early, your Highness.”

“Of course not. My bride and I could hardly lie abed all day.” Kadar chuckled, and added, “Or perhaps we could, but the kingdom would not thank me for it. Would it, my love?” And he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

Hot blood rushed into my face, and I opened my mouth to retort that I could think of about a thousand other things I’d rather do than be in bed with him. Then I remembered our audience, and instead summoned a wobbly smile before sitting upright, the bedclothes still clutched firmly against my breast.

A young woman wearing the same plainly fashioned dark brown garments as most of the other household servants stood at the side of the bed, a wide tray balanced on her hands. From it came the delightful scents of new-made bread, and hot tea, and two of the same delicious egg pies I had consumed just the morning before.

For some reason she seemed to find a spot on the floor uniquely fascinating, and kept her gaze fixed there as she murmured, “Should I set this on the bed table?”

“Do, Narenna. Thank you.”

She moved a few candlesticks out of the way to make a space large enough to accommodate the tray and set it down. “Anything else, your Highness?”

“No, that will be all.”

She nodded, dropped a quick curtsey, and then hurried out of the room before closing the chamber door behind her. As soon as she had gone, I swung my legs off the edge of the bed and began to slide out.

Kadar drawled, “So eager to leave?”

I refused to let him bait me. “I’ve never cared for eating in bed.”

Chin lifted firmly in the air, I stalked around the foot of the bed and over to the table that held our breakfast. Still without looking at Kadar, I poured myself a full mug of tea, and cut myself a slice of bread and spread it with honey.

“That looks good. I think I will join you.”

He stood and came over to the table. I watched as he helped himself to some tea as well, though he opted for a plate of pie rather than the bread. His arm brushed against mine as he reached for a fork, and I had to force myself to stand still and not flinch at the contact.

“Does the Mark of North Eredor always take his morning meal with so little ceremony?” I inquired, more to gloss over the awkward moment than because I actually cared about his reply.

“Sometimes. It depends on my schedule for the day.”

“Schedule?”

Those golden eyes seemed to mock me over the glazed brown rim of the mug as he blew gently on its contents. “Sadly, my day is comprised of more than planning kidnappings, or dancing with my new wife. Occasionally a land does require its ruler to actually rule.”

“Well, of course it does,” I snapped, nettled that he would think me such a simpleton. “I was not questioning the fact that you had a schedule, my lord, but rather expressing polite interest as to what it might contain.”

“Ah. Then I do beg your pardon for the misunderstanding. Perhaps it was merely surprise that you should be interested in anything to do with me.”

As I recognized his comment for the taunt it was, I kept my expression blank and went back to sipping my tea.

He did not appear concerned by my lack of response, and went on, “Unlike Sirlende, North Eredor is not known for its week-long revels. It is back to business as usual today, although I thought perhaps this morning we could go for a ride so that I might show you some of Tarenmar’s environs.”

“How delightful,” I said, although the prospect did not fill me with much joy. Perhaps one day I might feel more at home in the saddle, but at the moment I could only think of the inevitable aching muscles which would follow yet another bout on horseback.

Kadar smiled. “Anything to please you, my lady wife.”

I sighed. It was going to be a very long day.

M
y band
of seamstresses must have worked through the night; little as I wanted to spend the morning riding with Kadar Arkalis, at least I was able to do so in the smart riding suit of burgundy wool they produced for me. Several other articles of clothing were also placed in the large wardrobe of Kadar’s bedchamber, awaiting the time I would require them.

“And the rest by the end of the week, my lady,” Beranne assured me as she coiled up my unruly hair and topped it with a fetching little cap of brown velvet decked with several jaunty pheasant plumes.

I murmured a few words of thanks and shot a sidelong glance out the door in the direction of the sitting room. Kadar sat at the large table where he had composed the missive to my aunt several days earlier. Now he scribbled away at some kind of document, although I could not tell if it was another letter or not. Whether to spare me any further awkwardness, or simply because he was the sort who did not care to waste time in his morning preparations, he had dressed quickly while I waited out on the divan, then went on to his writing as Beranne came to prepare me for the ride.

“There now,” she said, sticking one last carved bone hairpin into the knot at the back of my head. “I trust we didn’t keep his lordship waiting overlong.”

“Not at all, Beranne. Thank you.”

Because she seemed to expect it, I smiled at her, even though I had little heart to put into the expression. I knew I should be feeling some relief; after all, I had survived my wedding night with little amiss save a slight stiffness in my neck from sleeping on the divan. Things could have been so much worse.

However, I could not help but quail a little at the thought of the hours and days ahead, of all the time I must spend in the company of the man who was now my husband. True, he must needs leave me alone for long stretches while he tended to the care of his kingdom, but we still would be thrown together a good deal of the time. How long would he be content to let me sleep apart, despite his assurances about not forcing me?

I had no answer to this question, of course. All I could do was dismiss Beranne, who bobbed a curtsey and exited the suite. I left the bedchamber and went out to meet Kadar. He placed his pen in a silver inkwell and stood.

“Ready?” he inquired, and I nodded. He gazed down at me for a few seconds and shook his head. “No need to look quite so stricken, my pet. It is only a ride, not a trip to the gallows. And it is a fine day outside.”

If my thoughts had revealed themselves so plainly on my face, then I knew I must do something to keep such a thing from happening in the future. If Kadar could somehow guess what I was thinking…

I lifted my shoulders and said, “My youth in Marestal did not provide much opportunity for riding. That is all.”

“We can change that soon enough. My grooms have found you a good riding mare, very biddable.” His lips quirked. “Quite unlike her mistress.”

I could think of no reply to that, so I settled for sending him a stony glance. He did not appear discomfited, but instead took my gloved hand in his and led me from the room.

It felt odd to see the people within the castle’s halls bow and curtsey as Kadar and I passed. On more than one occasion I had to stop myself from curtseying in return. As Kadar returned their obeisances with a simple nod of the head from time to time, I attempted to do the same, even though I felt an embarrassed flush creep up my cheeks as I did so. Somehow it seemed strange that I, whose mother was engaged in trade, should be the center of such fawning attention, even though I knew they were bowing to the new consort of the Mark and no more.

At length we reached the courtyard, where several grooms waited with our horses. I recognized Kadar’s dapple-grey at once, and guessed the pretty black mare beside him was my mount. Their glossy tack gleamed in the bright morning sunlight, a good match for the shining coats of the horses. If nothing else, it appeared the Mark’s servants took very good care of his horseflesh.

I was helped up into the saddle while Kadar mounted his own horse. A half-dozen other men were already astride and waiting for us — our escort, I presumed.

“Raven will follow my lead,” Kadar told me, as he wheeled his dapple-grey around. “Just give her her head.”

That sounded like dubious advice, but I did as he said and allowed the reins to lie more or less limp across the pommel. At least here in North Eredor they seemed to be sensible about women and riding; the suit I wore had a voluminous split skirt so I could ride astride, so much easier and more practical than the Sirlendian side-saddle.

We rode out of the castle gates and through the streets of Tarenmar, where the crowds parted to let us pass. A fresh breeze caught the banners carried by our escort, rippling the scarlet and silver silk.

Despite myself, I felt my spirits rise along with the breeze. It was much more difficult to be downcast in the face of such a glorious morning. Perhaps I had been more oppressed by the confines of Kadar’s castle than I had thought, especially as I had had no reason to believe I would escape its walls any time soon.

Not that this was an escape, I told myself, as I watched Kadar’s back rise and fall with the motions of his horse. For the ride he had pulled back his hair, so there was nothing to obscure the fine lines of his shoulders, or the sword-straight posture. He looked as if he had been born to the saddle.

Which he probably had, that and sword-fighting and all sorts of other manly pursuits. I knew he was an only son, and so of course all possible attention must have been lavished on him. Unfortunate that he had turned out to be such an arrogant bastard.

At that moment he turned in the saddle to look back at me and smiled, his teeth flashing in the bright sun. “We’ll go by the lake and westward to the woods there. It is a fine ride.”

I nodded, trying to ignore the pang of remorse I experienced at thinking such things of him when he obviously was making an attempt at civility. Then I told myself not to be a fool and waste such emotions as guilt on him. If anyone should be feeling guilty, it should be Kadar, for stealing me from my family and forcing this sham marriage on me. At the moment, however, it appeared he hadn’t a care in the world. I could not say the same for myself.

We had ridden westward, away from the town. Here I at last saw where the lake met its grey, pebbled shore. The water itself, however, was almost as bright a blue as the sky. Boats bobbed up and down in that water, although they were clustered near the town, with not many occupying the section of lake we now passed.

At least Kadar did not seem inclined to conversation, but led the group away from the water’s edge and into the outer reaches of the woods I had spied from the castle windows. Autumn had already brushed the trees’ leaves with scarlet and orange and gold, a shimmering panoply that surrounded us as we passed into the forest proper. But it was no wildwood; I saw several paths cross ours, and although leaves carpeted the ground, our way was clear enough.

At length we paused in a clearing with a stream crossing its western edge. Kadar brought us all to a halt, and the little mare I rode dutifully stopped with barely a signal from me.

He dismounted and came to me, arms outstretched to lift me down from my saddle. I knew I could not decline his assistance in view of our escort, and so I allowed him to place his hands on my waist and lower me to the ground. From the glint in his eyes, I guessed he knew precisely how much I disliked having his hands on me…which of course was why he had done so in the first place.

“I thought we might have some refreshment,” he said, and gestured toward his escort, who began unpacking saddlebags.

In no time they had spread a blanket over the fallen leaves, and assembled an assortment of delicacies for us: cold roast pheasant, more new-baked bread, cheese, what looked to be a pear tart. And with it a jug of wine, accompanied by a pair of earthenware goblets. I guessed Kadar hadn’t wanted to risk the rare and expensive glassware we used in the castle.

“It looks wonderful,” I said, then took matters into my own hands by immediately kneeling on the blanket and crossing my legs so he would not have time to assist me.

He smiled, but I thought his expression looked a little strained. But he said nothing and sat as well, and poured me a goblet of wine with his own hands. “You may take up a perimeter,” he said. At once our escort melted away into the forest, forming a silent barrier between us and any possible intruders.