Authors: Elysa Hendricks
Tags: #Kidnapping, #Fantasy Fiction, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Life on Other Planets, #Revenge, #General, #Love Stories
“The condemned have little to lose.”
“Father! Father!” Zoa cried. “I saw it. Sianna saved Titus.
She’s a hero, isn’t she Father? Just like Cimene, the goddess
who rescued the moons from being devoured by the darkness.
Now you have to give Sianna a reward, like Sol rewarded
Cimene.”
Like a fresh breeze, Zoa’s excitement dispelled the tension.
Sianna smiled.
Zoa stopped for a moment to cough, but Sianna was pleased
to note it sounded much better. A few more healing sessions,
and Zoa’s health would be fully restored.
“A reward, Father. Give Sianna a reward.” Zoa turned her
gaze on Sianna. “You are brave. Just like Father.”
“I’m not all that brave. Anyone would have done as I did, if
they had been close enough.”
“If I were brave and deserved a reward, I would choose a
quinar of my very own. Would you like a quinar? Beba just had
two foals.”
Kyne frowned. “A quinar is not possible.”
Because of Zoa, Sianna didn’t voice her hurt at his attitude.
Other than being born her father’s daughter, she’d given Kyne
no reason to distrust her. Remembering her charade of being
Laila, and all he thought her sister had done, her resentment
faded.
“Zoa is right.” Kyne’s softer tone drew her gaze. “You
deserve not only sincere gratitude, but a reward for saving the
lad’s life at the risk of your own.”
“There was no risk,” she objected.
Kyne shook his head. “The blade missed your head by a
mere hair. In fact.” He reached out and pulled her tangled hair
forward.
Sianna swayed as she saw where a clump of hair had been
neatly sliced away. His hand on her arm steadied her. Death
had come so close. Would he care? Her gaze clashed with
Kyne’s, but she saw no answers in his dark eyes.
“What reward do you claim for your deed? Demand
anything but your freedom, and I will see you receive it.”
“I require nothing for doing what is right.”
“Choose. A Cathor always pays his debts.”
Sianna shivered at Kyne’s harsh tone, knowing he referred
to more than this small obligation. What should she request?
Whatever she asked, he would grant, no matter what it might
cost him. Her life? Laila’s? Her father’s?
“I wish to be allowed to work with your healer.”
A flicker of disbelief crossed Kyne’s face, then he smoothed
his features into an expressionless mask. Why couldn’t she
read this man’s emotions? Since their brief connection, she had
felt nothing of his inner thoughts. Judging him based on his
words and actions alone left her floundering in the dark as if
she were suddenly blind.
“That’s all you want?” Zoa sounded disgusted and
disappointed.
“And a baby quinar.”
Before Kyne could deny her request, Sianna hurried on.
“Of course, I’d need someone to help me care for it, because I
don’t know anything about quinar. If Rul Cathor gives his
permission, would you be willing, Zoa?”
“Oh, yes! Yes. Please say yes, Father. I’ll take ever such
good care of Adda for you.”
Kyne’s lips twitched as though he saw through Sianna’s
ploy, but he managed to keep a straight face. “Very well, Sianna
may have the quinar foal, if you agree to care for it for her.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Zoa threw her arms
around Kyne, then Sianna. Before either could respond she
whirled and raced away, her dark hair bouncing as she ran. “I
told Etam I’d get a quinar before him.” Her words flew back at
them.
“Adda indeed. The little minx played us both for fools, and
you went right along with her.”
Even though the look of affection in Kyne’s eyes was for
Zoa, Sianna found it ample payment for her small trick. “Does
it matter? You intended to give the foal to her anyway.”
“Yes, but how...never mind.” He stared at her, his features
once again stern. “Why do you wish to work with the healer?
Why not request a pardon for your crimes?”
“Since I’ve committed no crimes, I hardly feel the need for
a pardon.” She ignored the growing twitch at the corner of his
mouth and continued, “I requested what I truly desire. I am a
trained healer. I would put my skills to use where they are
sorely needed. And I would not have you make a promise you
might not be able to keep.”
“What I promise, I deliver.”
“I know.” He would deliver or die in the trying. After all
the things her father had cost this man, she would not ask him
to forfeit his honor.
Without a word, he turned and led the way back into the
great hall. Sianna scurried to keep up with his long strides.
Somehow her failure to request a tangible reward irritated him.
Could she never please this man?
He halted amid the scattered pallets filled with the sick and
injured. For a moment, compassion replaced his hard look, then
he turned toward her and his annoyance resurfaced. “Althea, I
have brought you an assistant. This is Sianna. Make use of
her.” With that he turned and walked away.
Bent with age, her hair the color of a stormy sky, the healer
didn’t rise from the chair where she dozed. She looked up and
nodded her acceptance of Sianna’s help. Weary resignation
resided in the old woman’s eyes and soul.
“Will you let me help you, Healer?”
Althea stood slowly, her gaze probing Sianna. She touched
her gnarled fingers to Sianna’s cheek. “Many have died because
I am too old and my skills are too meager to save them. You are
young to be a healer. Are you trained?”
“I studied at the valetudinarian of the Sisters of Light.”
A spark of hope flared in the old woman’s eyes. “Yes, I
can feel your fire to heal. Once I had such.” She shook her
head. “But too many years and too many failures can smother
a person’s flame.”
Hunger gnawed at Sianna, but the pain and feelings of
desperation coming from the ill and injured would not let her
walk away. What to do first?
She clasped Althea’s hands between her own. “Perhaps
together we can fan the embers to life.”
“Perhaps,” Althea agreed with a grin.
***
Two hours later, Sianna straightened from cleaning and
organizing the castle infirmary. Fortunately, there was no critical
need for her special skill. For now, Althea’s herbal remedies
would suffice.
The growing ache in her belly forced Sianna in search of
food. Grease and bits of rotting food covered the kitchen work
tables and cooking surfaces. Hounds slunk between the table
legs looking for scraps, while unknown brown shapes scurried
in the shadows. She gagged on the smell of rancid food, burnt
meat and general decay, her appetite fading.
A plump woman rushed up to Sianna and grabbed her hand.
“My Lady. How can I ever thank you for saving my boy, Titus?
Since DiSanti conscripted my man and two older sons, he’s all
I have left. Our lives are yours.” The woman knelt at Sianna’s
feet and pressed her forehead to Sianna’s hands.
Gently, Sianna pulled the woman up. “Raising your boy to
be a fine man is thanks enough.”
“Do you wish mid-meal? Rul Cathor said not to disturb you
for first meal. Surely you are hungry now. I’m called Betha. I
can prepare something for you, if you like.”
“Do you work in the kitchen?”
“No, my lady.”
“Who is in charge?”
“I don’t believe anyone is. Each of us prepares our own
meals. Come. I have cleared an area where you can sit and
eat.”
Betha led Sianna through the cluttered maze of a kitchen
toward a quiet corner. At a small, clean table sat Titus. He
smiled shyly and ducked his head to his meal. The spicy aroma
of stew reached Sianna’s nose, making her stomach growl and
mouth water.
“Please sit, my lady. Would you like some bread? I made
fresh this morning. Some stew? It’s meatless, but quite tasty
anyway.”
“Thank you, Betha. Both would be lovely.”
Like crystallized honey, the food melted in Sianna’s mouth.
For a moment she forgot the squalor of the kitchen and savored
her meal. As she ate, people approached Betha for directions:
how to cook a rack of meat, mix a loaf of bread, where to find
the flour, sugar, salt. Replete, Sianna leaned back and looked
around. Betha’s small area sat like an island of calm in a raging
storm.
Sianna considered the situation for a minute, then said,
“Betha, I think you should take charge of the kitchen.”
Surprise flickered across the woman’s face. “I don’t know.
I’ve only been here a short time. Would people listen to me?”
“They already come to you. You’re a marvelous cook.
Someone needs to take control. Look at the waste and filth.
It’s no wonder people are ill with stomach complaints. With
your skills, you can easily prevent the problem.”
A thoughtful expression on her face, Betha looked around.
“Perhaps you’re right. But will Rul Cathor allow it?”
“Don’t worry about the Rul, just make this kitchen yours.
When he eats your cooking rather than burnt offerings, he’ll
not complain.” At least Sianna hoped he wouldn’t. Where Kyne
was concerned she wasn’t sure of anything.
FIVE
That afternoon Sianna pushed aside her growing fatigue to
work with Betha and several other women clearing and cleaning
the kitchen. Warda followed, at her side yet never underfoot—
a silent shadow, guard, companion. After watching her for a
short time, people started to gather around her to seek instruction
and guidance. Soon their efforts spilled out into the great hall.
Bit by bit, order banished chaos. Laughter and good spirits
infected everyone as they worked.
From a quiet corner of the hall Kyne conducted a meeting,
but she felt his gaze following her as she moved around offering
advice and a helping hand where needed. He said nothing when
she gave orders to the men and boys to sweep the stone floors
and had them lay sweet-smelling, fresh grasses. Nor did he
object as she directed the scrubbing of the hall’s massive hearth
or when she exiled the hounds to the courtyard.
What did he think of her efforts? Though in truth she was
his prisoner, he granted her more liberty than she’d ever known.
After the strict regime of the valetudinarian and her father’s
even harsher rule, this taste of freedom, though false, was heady
indeed.
Why did he let her mingle with his people? Let them come
to know her? Allow her to guide and direct them? His steady
gaze made her anxious and filled her with a longing for something
she couldn’t name.
Graham’s hand on her shoulder startled her, and she dropped
the rag she was using to scrub the last long trestle table.
“Stop now,” he said. “Sit and eat last meal with the others.”
“There is still much to do. I’ll eat later.” Sianna snatched
up the rag and took another swipe at a stubborn stain. Only
hard work took her mind from thoughts of her father’s crimes
and questions about her fate at the hands of his enemies. The
mouthwatering smell of Betha’s cooking filled the great hall,
replacing the previous rank odors. The loud gurgle from Sianna’s
stomach made her blush and remember her lessons from the
Sisters. A lady should never reveal bodily functions.
Graham chuckled, took the rag from her fingers, and pushed
her down onto the bench. “You’ve done enough for one day.”
“But I....” Sianna protested.
“Dravid,” he called to a passing lad. “Fetch the Lady Sianna
a plate and bring me one as well.”
“You are a kind man.” His gruff consideration for one he
thought of as an enemy touched her. Though he didn’t yet trust
her, his doubts about her guilt eased some of her pain.
A hint of color stained his cheeks. “Not kind, merely hungry.
And I dislike eating alone.”
She refrained from pointing out the many others he could
choose to dine with. From across the room she could feel
Katya’s hostile glare. “I wish Kyne could look beyond my birth
as well, and see me for who I am.” The wistful words slipped
out before she could prevent them.
“And just who are you?”
Without betraying Laila, she couldn’t answer Graham’s
pointed question. She ducked her head.
“May I join you for last meal?”
Her gaze flew up to meet Kyne’s. Hard and cold like a
winter wind, his gaze pierced her. His stare drove the warmth
of accomplishment from her. Could she do nothing to please
him? His unjustified anger stirred her own, and her tongue acted
without her permission. “Why would you wish to eat with me?
How can you bear to be near me? I am my father’s daughter.”
Immediately, she regretted her outburst and vowed not to let
him bait her again.
Kyne’s eyes narrowed and his lips tightened, but Sianna
couldn’t tell if her outburst had angered or hurt him. Nor, she
decided, did she care. His feelings were not her concern, and
she’d already survived his anger.
Graham grabbed Kyne’s arm and pulled him down onto