The Jewel of Kamara (The Delthenon Chronicles) (7 page)

—

Tempani
and Chae were in the sitting room, the fire crackling before them as they
discussed the evening’s events in hushed tones. Despite the late hour, Otto was
working in his study.

“He
would sleep in there if he could,” said Chae.

“What
is he working on?”

Chae
shrugged and rubbed
Tilaw’s
belly. “Reports for the
king mostly. I try to stay out of his way as much as I can. He once caught me
looking at a map he had drawn, and he blew up. Told me I had no right looking
at confidential documents.”

Tempani
frowned and reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly between hers. “I hate
that we were separated. It must have been hard for you. Living with papa.”

“I
only moved in here once I was knighted. Before that I was living at the palace
so I was spared most of his anger. He was different when he was teaching us to
fight. He was almost happy again.”

“I
miss him. I know it sounds crazy because he is just down the hall, but I do.”

“Me
too,” he whispered. “I miss talking to him.”

“Did
you ever tell him of the problems you faced?”

Chae
shook his head. “It had been dealt with by the time he arrived. Though the
prejudices were easier to deal with as a boy than as a man. I could throw a
punch back and be done with it. Now it’s all snide words and cruel actions.
You’ll see.”

“I’ve
already seen it.” She told him what had passed earlier that night.

“Madoc
is a good man.”

“What
I don’t understand is why doesn’t Prince Nicolass stand up for you? He has the
authority to do something.”

“There
is only so much he can do. Besides, I don’t want to abuse our friendship.
That’s what people expect me to do.”

“Well
he should do more. You are one of his oldest friends.”

“You
don’t think highly of him do you?”

“He
was a horrible little boy, and we never quite lose who we were as children.”

“He’s
a good man, Tempani. Believe me.”

She
shrugged and hugged
Tilaw
to her. “Do you think
either of us would have been allowed into court if papa wasn’t close friends
with the king?”

“Not
a chance,” he said. “And for that we should be eternally grateful to him.”

“I’m
still not sure if it’s a good thing. I can’t help but feel I would be happier
among the Kalaowins. I don’t belong here.”

Chae
stroked her cheek. “Yes, you do.”

She
laughed sadly. “Teddy said I belong with you and him.”

“He’s
very wise, our Teddy.”

Otto
watched from the shadows of the doorway as his children embraced. He swallowed
hard to force the lump from his throat as his eyes glistened with tears. One
day they would understand. They would belong.

—

Tempani
had just finished lunch with Dahlia and had decided to take a stroll through
the city before returning home. Her chaperone, Rando, was by her side as an
unwed lady was not free to walk unescorted.

She
felt eyes on her as she walked, and she tried to pretend that she didn’t notice
their stares.

The
stalls were up ahead, and she had intended to go there but a flurry of activity
caught her eye, and she moved towards the alley that ran behind the stables and
blacksmiths.

“You
don’t want to be going down there, my lady.”

“I’ve
never gone this way before,” she said. “We’d always go straight from the
stables into the center.”

“Your
father wouldn’t like it.”

“Well,
he’s not here.”

She
followed the trail of people walking down the path and then froze when she saw
what they’d come to see. Now she understood why they’d never gone down that
path before. It led straight to the slave pens.

The
people she had followed moved to the pens and looked over the three Kalaowins
chained up inside. A girl of thirteen, a woman of forty and a man of
twenty-one. They had been fresh caught. Or so the sign said. A nobleman spoke
quickly to the trader, and the two females were pulled from the pen and handed
over.

The
fear in the young girl’s eyes sparked an ache in Tempani’s heart. She wanted to
rescue them but how?

“Lord
Pieter treats his slaves well. They won’t be harmed,” Rando whispered.

She
inched closer to the man who had been left behind. The left side of his face
was horribly scarred. It looked like it had been seared by a fire or hot coals.
He had the same markings on his back as Nika. She moved even closer towards
him, wanting to fill the void left by her Kalaowin friend.

“Julo,”
she whispered using the Kalaowin word for hello.

His
eyes flicked down to her.

“How
much?” She demanded to the trader.

“You
ain’t
got enough.” His stale breath caused her to
step away from him. He grinned at her, thinking he’d scared her off.

“How
much?” She asked again, reaching for her coin purse. “I have money.”

“He
ain’t
for sale,” he snarled.

“He’s
a slave,” she snapped. “Of course, he’s for sale.”

She
couldn’t bring herself to look at the man as she called him a slave.

“Not
to you. You’ll set him loose.”

“Mark
him as mine, and he can’t escape. He’ll be bound to me.”

“I
told ye, he
ain’t
for sale!” He roared and stepped towards
her.

Rando
moved swiftly and pulled Tempani behind him.

The
man laughed at them. “
Ye’re
as common as me. You
ain’t
got no weapon to protect her.”

Tempani’s
eyes widened as
Rando’s
hand slipped to the back of
his shirt. The silver of his blade flashed in her eyes, and she gripped the
hand that held it, forcing him to keep it hidden behind his back.

She
stepped around him and glared at the trader. “I will be back for him,” she
snapped. “He will belong to me.”

The
man laughed again as she pulled Rando away. She remained silent on their ride
back to the manor. Her anger bubbled away in the pit of her stomach, and her
hands trembled from its force.

She
handed her reigns to Lindow and then marched inside, Rando trailing behind her.
Once the door was closed behind them, she rounded on him, her eyes flashing
dangerously.

“You’re
armed?” She cried. “If he had seen that, you’d be dead! Do you understand
that?”

Rando
stood, his back straight, his head held high, as he watched her pace the room.

“Dead!”
She cried again. “They would hang you for carrying a weapon!” She stopped
pacing and faced him. “Do you have anything to say?”

“No,
my lady.”

“You
are my chaperone! Why are you carrying a weapon? If my father found out, he
would have your head.” She rushed over to him and gripped his hands. “Please
promise me you’ll get rid of it.”

“It
won’t happen again, my lady.”

She
shook her head slowly. “I will never tell anyone of this.”

“What
of the slave?”

“I
dare not go back there and risk you losing your common sense again. Perhaps
Chae can go on my behalf and purchase him.”

Rando
nodded and turned on his heel. When he reached the door he paused. “You can’t
save everyone, my lady. Some people’s paths are already decided.”

“If
I don’t try, who will?”

The
slave had already been sold by the time Chae got there. It had taken a lot of
convincing to even get him there, but in the end he had done as his sister
wished, but he was too late. He had already been purchased.

Tempani
had trouble sleeping that night. She couldn’t stop thinking about those three
Kalaowins. They had been taken from their families and would now know nothing
but servitude. She rolled over and watched Zadi, who was curled up on her
bedroll.

“Zadi?”
She whispered. “Are you awake?”

Her
eyes flicked open, and she sat up abruptly. “Did you need something, my lady?”

“No,
I was just curious about something.” She propped herself up on her elbow. “When
did you become a slave?”

“Three
years ago.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she spoke. “I was taken by
a trader one day and brought to the city. Lindow bought me to do chores around
here.”

“Your
Kamari is good for someone whose only been here three years.”

“I
knew some before I was taken, but the household has taught me to speak proper.”
A smile flickered across her face. “But my dreams are Kalaowin. Always.”

“Do
you miss home?”

Zadi
nodded. “But this is the path chosen for me. I’ll follow it.”

“Maybe
we could set you free.”

“There
are no freed slaves. I’m in your service until I die.”

Tempani
blinked away tears. “I’ll find a way to set you free. I promise.”

—

Lord
Darby’s manor was on the outskirts of the city and was truly beautiful. It had
once belonged to Wimarc’s uncle, Viscount Fredi, and was given to Darby upon
his death. Darby had added his own flourishes to the manor. The tribal masks
that hung from the walls were from the Pentian Isles, and Tempani found it hard
to draw herself from those. The charming paintings in his study were painted
for him by a common born artist who wandered the kingdom painting what he
thought beautiful: a child playing in a stream, wild horses running through a
field, a man holding his wife.

But
it was in the library where Darby had done the most work. Viscount Fredi had
not been a scholar and hadn’t cared for books and reading. His library had
remained empty until Darby moved in and brought with him every book he had ever
read and others he longed to read. They were stacked high to the ceiling, row
after row of wonderful stories and rich histories.

“A
little extravagant isn’t it? Even after all these years I still see reading as
a bit of a novelty. Many nobles take their ability to pick up a book and have
the knowledge to understand each word for granted.”

“But
you have not forgotten what it was like?”

Darby
smiled kindly. “We never forget our roots. I was born a commoner, and no matter
the title I have now, I still have my common blood pumping through my veins.”

“Lord
Darby of Coastir. Commoner turned nobleman. A tale as romantic as they come.
The manservant of our king saves his life one day, and in return the king
grants him a title.”

“There
was more to it than that. We had formed a firm friendship before that day. He
taught me to read.”

“Fancy
that. Our king can read!”

“Quite
well actually. He just doesn’t care for it the way I do.” Darby accepted the
tray of tea from his servant and poured them both a cup. “You have a question
for me. I can see it on your face.”

She
frowned as she put her cup back on the table. “I don’t see how a king whose
close friends are a former commoner and a man who had a Kalaowin wife can
continue to run the kingdom the way he does.”

Darby
sighed. “The man and the king are two very different people.”

“I
don’t understand how.”

“The
king is ruled by power, but the man sees some sense. Unfortunately, the king
often wins out.”

“And
innocent people suffer.”

“Sometimes,”
he said slowly before taking a sip and then resting his cup on his knee.

“Prince
Nicolass is just like his father.”

“And
Prince Theodore is his mother.” Darby shook his head. “Don’t count out the man
Prince Nicolass is. He may well surprise us all.”

“I
won’t hold my breath.” She looked around the library and smiled. “Do you ever
wonder what your life would be if you hadn’t saved the king’s life?”

“All
the time,” he said. “But I learned quickly not to dwell on what might have been
but instead on what is. I will always have the scar from the arrow that struck
me as I saved the king’s life. I will always walk with a limp.”

“I
can’t help but wonder what my life would be if I had been raised among my
mother’s people instead of among nobility.”

Darby
eyed her curiously. “That is an interesting thought,” he said. “Or perhaps if
you had stayed on at the convent and become a sister?”

Tempani
shook her head. “Never,” she said quickly. “I am not built for that life.”

“Quite
right,” he mused. “I believe you are in the life you belong to.”

“It
just doesn’t seem fair when others who share my blood are imprisoned in slavery
or hiding in the south for fear of slaughter, and I attend fancy dinners and
balls.”

“There’s
not much in our lives that is fair, my dear. It’s what we do with the
injustices that matters.”