The Pages of the Mind (15 page)

This was not going well.

Kral was talking about gold and something else. Nakoa answered him with some sort of taunt that angered Kral enough to gesture to me and say—what? Something about bringing me to him. But I caught a word Nakoa had used several times with me, one Kral also knew and I connected to his original charges to Ursula.
Mo'o
. The dragon?

Finally, Nakoa cut Kral off with a sharp chop of his hand and rose. Everyone had gone silent and Inoa reached over to touch my arm, her eyes wide in anxious alarm. Nakoa called out for a servant to attend him—a phrase I'd heard a number of times already, though I hadn't parsed the exact words yet—and a young man ran up with a curved, dauntingly large sword. Confronting Kral, Nakoa issued an obvious challenge. Inoa's nails dug into my arm and she said something pleading.

Kral looked to me for the first time. “I cannot duel for you, scribe. Do you understand that? I have responsibilities to my men, to get them home again.”

Jepp cursed, rounding on him. “Then pretend to stand down and we'll smuggle her out.”

For once, Kral didn't respond to her with anger. Instead he seemed regretful. “The king has people watching the
Hákyrling
. Even if we managed to get her past them, he'd make sure of her presence here before he let us sail. I should have listened when you told me he means to keep her. I didn't think it would play out this way. I, ah, apologize for my role in this.” Definitely guilt there. What had he handed Nakoa when we arrived?

“Save your half-assed apology!” Jepp spat.

He spread his hands, oddly not rising to Jepp's challenge. “I've never seen him behave like this and I have no power to gainsay him. Emperor Hestar would have my head if I created bad blood with the Nahanauns, especially over a foreign scribe, no matter how connected to royalty.” He bowed to Nakoa and stepped back, leaving Jepp alone in confronting the king.

She didn't hesitate, but pulled her daggers and faced Nakoa. “Then I accept the challenge, if this coward will not take it.”

Nakoa assessed her and raised his sword. Zynda stood and edged closer, ready to back Jepp.

“No!” I shouted at them both. “
Ayh
! Nakoa.”

He backed up a step to be able to see me without turning his back on Jepp. A wise man, not to underestimate her.

“Shut up, Dafne,” Jepp hissed.

“I won't. Kral is right.” I held out a hand to Nakoa, the small dagger on my open palm. “Nakoa. I will stay.” Unable to think of another word to fit, I said, “Dafne open.”

Jepp glared at me in helpless fury but relaxed her stance. Nakoa lowered the sword and came to me, grim satisfaction on his face. Plucking the dagger from my palm, he took my hand and placed a firm, lingering kiss to my inner wrist.

Beyond him, Jepp seethed. She would have been happier fighting, even if it meant her death. “You don't know what you're doing,” she said in Common Tongue.

“Maybe not, but I won't watch you or anyone else die on my behalf. I've had enough of wars. I can't be the cause of one.” And better this way than to lose our mission entirely. Time for me to face that reality.

When Harlan explained
hlyti
, he failed to mention that—goddess or no—she could be cruel.

The party disbanded and Nakoa carried me back to his rooms, looking thunderous. Jepp and Zynda gamely followed behind. He started to set me on the bed. “
Ayh
,” I said and pointed to a chair. “There.”

Shooting me a bemused glance, he set me in the chair, then gave me an exaggerated bow. Maybe I shouldn't give him orders, but I needed to draw lines. Particularly if I was going to be trapped here with him. Possibly for the rest of my life.

I couldn't think about that.

“Leave us, please,” I said, hoping I sounded more polite, though the phrase was one I'd heard used with the ladies who fetched and carried for Inoa and might not be at all appropriate for a king. “I want to talk to Jepp and Zynda.”

He looked at them and back at me. For a moment, it seemed he wouldn't agree, but he went to stand on the balcony outside, back to the rail, watching us with folded arms. As good as I'd get, apparently.

“I'm
not
leaving you here,” Jepp threw out, voice tight. “If we can't get you out, I'm staying with you.”

“I will, too.” Zynda sat and took my hand. I squeezed it, grateful for the contact.

“You can't stay,” I told them. “Either of you. You have to leave me here—there's no other option.”

Jepp exploded. “Don't you tell
me
there are no other options. I'm charged with protecting you, and by Danu, I'll do it.”

I didn't ask her to modulate her tone or still her pacing. Nakoa, like a carved statue silhouetted against the night, a black stone sentinel of a man, would know exactly what we discussed.

“Listen to me, both of you.” I waited for Jepp's attention, snarling as it might be. “You have to go. Zynda will make contact with Andi regardless, to get the Dasnarians through the barrier. She can pass a message back to Ursula. The additional ships might not have left yet. They can bring more effective rescue and, in the meanwhile, I'll learn the language and customs and will be ready to start diplomatic relations between King Nakoa KauPo and the Thirteen.”

Nakoa, hearing his name, dipped his chin slightly, eyes catching the torchlight and glittering with amber sparks.

“You're suggesting I go to Dasnaria without you?” Jepp sounded incredulous. “I can't fulfill the mission. I don't know how to unearth secrets from books! I can scarcely read Common Tongue, let alone Dasnarian.”

“You're Ursula's best scout. You know how to find out anything you want to know. Just establishing if Kir is really there would be significant in itself.”

She subsided, fuming, so I turned to Zynda. “Promise me that you'll make sure Ursula doesn't come after me herself.”

Zynda blinked at that, then pulled her hair over her shoulder, braiding it as she thought. “I don't know how I'm going to do that. I don't have your gift with her.”

“Recruit Harlan. Speak to him privately and convince him. Then make sure that, whatever you tell her, it doesn't sound like I'm in any danger. Which I'm really not, because I don't think the king will harm me or allow me to be harmed. Ursula can't leave the High Throne unattended, whatever happens. That's more important than what happens to me.”

Zynda nodded slowly. “I'll do my best.”

“He might not harm you, Dafne.” Jepp sat, knees spread, hands folded between them, her large dark eyes somber. “But you will not emerge with your virginity from this. I've seen the way he looks at you and touches you. Even if we manage to eventually extract you, that will be the price you'll pay.”

She looked so serious, so worried for me. We'd come a ways from her blithe teasing and plots to divest me of that virginity. “I don't think he'd force me.” My gaze went to Nakoa, watching us in silence.

“Perhaps not.” Jepp tapped her fingers together. “But if he thinks you are his wife or betrothed, he'll expect it. Putting you in his bed gives a clear message that way.”

“Now you see that?” I had to tease her a little about it, but she didn't smile.

“I learned my lesson, yes. I wouldn't wish the same on you.”

“Are you worried about going to Dasnaria—what your status will be there?”

“I can handle myself.” She waved that off. “And I can handle Kral. The question is, can you handle the dragon king?”

“Why do you call him that?” I asked, a bit taken aback to hear my secret thoughts spoken aloud.

Jepp gave me a funny look. “The tattoos look like scales to me—don't they to you?”

“And he wears a torque in that shape,” Zynda agreed. “Also there is . . . some connection there.”

“Do you really believe some magic he worked released the dragon?”

She tilted her head, solemn. “Not just him, but you also. Dafne, watch yourself with him. We don't know their culture, but if sex seals the marriage, diplomacy might not get you out of it.”

“If you don't want Her Majesty going to war over you—as she no doubt would,” Jepp added, “then you'll have to hold him off. However you manage it. That's the best course of action. If you can,” she added in a dubious tone that made me bristle.

“Of course I can. I've held off all my life. If I'm practiced at anything, it's that.”

“Not with someone who affects you like he does.” Zynda nodded at my confusion and Jepp joined her. “Your body language shows it, too.”

“I'll have to find the strength.” I said it in a dry tone for her absurd observation—and yet, part of me knew it to be true. Nakao did affect me as no other man had. I would be hard-pressed not to give in to the attraction. But I would. I must.

That was the way of adventures, it seemed. You stepped up, not because you were brave, but because you had no other choice. Courage wasn't required. Only fortitude.

Hopefully I'd find it in myself to withstand the patient assault of King Nakoa.

13

J
epp and Zynda stayed for a bit after Inoa returned with a couple of her ladies. She shooed out her brother with her usual scolding words, which he accepted from her with an affectionate scowl. I'd do well to cement the friendship she seemed to offer, and perhaps recruit her to my cause.

My feet ached from sitting up so long, swollen and hot. Figuring it would help my efforts to keep Nakoa away from me, I didn't fight the tears that sprang up when they put new ointment on my feet. Inoa clucked in sympathy and petted my hand in comfort. Fervently I wished for some of the ice we stored in the cool depths of Ordnung, but that wouldn't be possible.

Still, I felt better with new ointment, a fresh, cool gown, and my feet propped up on several pillows. I refused the drowsy tea, not wanting to miss saying good-bye to my friends. Inoa gave me a stern look but set it next to the bed, then climbed in next to me. Settling herself in firmly as my jailor. Zynda kept her human form, saving her energy for an emergency, I suspected, and curled up in a chair while Jepp took first watch.

It seemed silly, as I'd have no protection after tonight, but they insisted, promising to wake me before they left.

I slept in fits, my mind racing. In my dreams, I awoke, dressed, and left with Jepp and Zynda for the ship. Sometimes we already stood on deck, making me wonder how I'd escaped. Other times I went out to the balcony, leapt off, and flew over the water. Over and over, I left my luxurious prison only to wake to find myself still in Nakoa's bed, feet aching and body stiff from lying on my back.

I thought I lay awake still, but Zynda woke me with a gentle touch, the room black with night, no torches lit. The gauzy curtains drawn around the bed while I slept caught a faint glint of moonlight, moving ghostly with a bit of welcome breeze off the water. Inoa breathed deeply in sleep, far on the other side of the big bed.

“Is it dawn?” I whispered, feeling the bleak hopelessness of that darkness, an abandoned ghost, myself.

“Not quite, but if we're to be aboard to sail with the
Hákyrling
. . .”

“Of course.”

“It's not too late,” Jepp said quietly from behind her, a deeper shadow. “You can still change your mind.”

“And do what—gallop out of here on Zynda's back? Have you lower me over the balcony with rope and hope no one sees?” I felt bleak enough that I considered those as options. If only I could shape-shift and fly away in truth. Inoa stirred, rolling over and blinking at us, then sat up and lit a candle. “There are no doubt guards outside the doors. No matter what, they'd simply pull me off the ship again.”

“I meant that I can stay.” Jepp fingered her knives, even as Inoa got up and moved around the room, lighting torches and retrieving a gown for me. “I think I should.”

“You can't. We made a treaty to help the Dasnarians get home. Ursula needs that information. And I debated whether to tell you my suspicions—for that's all they are; I have no proof—but I think Kral deliberately brought me here, as some sort of trade with the king.”

Jepp looked simultaneously pissed and astonished. “How—”

“I don't know. See what you can dig out of him.”

“Oh, I'll be digging, all right.” Her grim smile nearly made me pity the man.

As soon as Inoa had me dressed—and I strapped on the knife belt in response to Jepp's significant glance—she opened the doors and Nakoa walked in, dressed in his exotic armor, as he'd worn the first day, and trailed by a dozen of his people. He eyed Jepp and Zynda warily, then gestured them to the door, his expression more stony than ever, if possible. Jepp glared back, spine stiff and fingers twitching for her knives.

Zynda came over, sat on the side of the bed, and embraced me, her hair silky on my cheek. How she could smell of the flowers of Annfwn when she'd been so long away, I didn't know. “I'll be back, just as soon as I can. I promise,” she whispered. “I brought all your things from the ship. They're beside the bed. Though all those heavy clothes won't do you much good.”

“Don't come back if it's a risk. I'll be fine. I'm counting on you to persuade Ursula of that.”

She nodded, eyes dark with misery. “I'll do my best.”

Jepp broke the stare-down with Nakoa and, pointedly turning her back on him, she bent over and hugged me hard, uncomfortably so after Zynda's gentle embrace—nearly cracking my ribs. Despite the set of her chin, however, the look on her face showed how conflicted she felt. “You're going to make me a promise,” she informed me, gripping my shoulders. “You are going to hold out, because you are strong and smart. The High Queen believes in you and now I know why. You promise me that I won't have to face her and explain that because I abandoned you—” She broke off on something perilously close to a sob and looked away.

I wrapped my fingers around her wrists. “I promise, Jepp. I'll be fine. When we see each other again, we'll drink your Branlian whiskey, you can tell me about your sexual adventures in Dasnaria, and I'll give you back your mother's knife belt.”

She nodded, then cupped the back of my head and kissed me hard on the mouth, shocking me. Giving me something of her cocky grin, she patted my cheek. “If you manage to hold out against your dragon king, I'm definitely taking a shot at seducing you. Never could resist a challenge.”

Behind her, Zynda shook her head, some of her misery abated by Jepp's bravado. “Good-bye,” I told them. “Safe travels. My thoughts go with you.”

They left, escorted out by Nakoa's guards. He, however, remained behind, even as Inoa discreetly slipped out. I braced myself. Would he force himself on me after all, now that we were alone? I felt brittle, hollowed out, as if Jepp and Zynda had taken some of my strength with them. I didn't know if I'd be able to muster the spirit to fight him off, my situation felt so hopeless. Nakoa moved toward me and my hand fell to the dagger Ursula had given me. He paused, stern face going troubled. Laying a hand over mine on the hilt, he touched my cheek, a fleeting, light caress. “No, Dafne.”

“I'll use it, if I have to,” I said, not caring if he understood me or not. Needing to say it aloud for myself, so I'd believe. “My High Queen and my friend gave this to me. I might not be a warrior, but she taught me how to use this. I won't disappoint her by failing to.”

He listened intently, then stroked my hand on the blade and let go. Holding out his arms, he said, “Open,” with a twitch of an amused smile. What went on in his head, behind that impenetrable face? Definitely a keen intellect, collaborating with me to find words we both understood, no matter how much we altered the meaning between us. As if we created our own intimate language.

“Open,” I agreed, with a sigh, for my tattered emotions, fragile paranoia, and enforced vulnerability.

He took the fresh garland from around his neck and replaced mine, setting the wilted one aside. “
Mlai
,” he whispered.

I raised my arms in resignation, letting him lift me and carry me out of the room. He turned in a different direction than before, climbing a set of stairs that started straight, then began to spiral as they narrowed, ascending to a tower. Ironic if he took me to some prison cell.

Instead we emerged onto an open veranda that provided the most astonishing view I'd yet seen. Glimmers of dawn showed all around the horizon, as if Glorianna's sun might rise from any point at all, brightening the sky from gray to blue. The volcano loomed, a dark silhouette against the sky, the top broken now from the dragon's emergence, like the curl of a broken lip. The harbor over the next ridge also showed clearly, with the
Hákyrling
rocking on the gentle swells, a few of her wine-dark sails going up, one by one. I imagined Jepp and Zynda somewhere under the dense foliage, making their way to it.

A lookout bowed to Nakoa and discreetly left as the king strode up to the polished stone wall that bordered the veranda waist-high to him. I looked down as he lowered me. The drop was precipitous, a long way to the tiled roofs in the morning shadows below. Suddenly terrified he meant to pitch me off the tower, I clutched at him, fingers digging into his hard muscles and surprisingly soft skin. He gave me a long look that I couldn't read and waited for me to let go.

“Sorry,” I muttered, relaxing my grip. I'd left half-moon nail indentations, and, chagrined, I brushed them with my fingertips, as if I could smooth them away. He said something in a soft tone and pressed a kiss to my forehead. Forgiven, I supposed. The inherent sweetness of the gesture moved me, smoothing away some of the rawness inside.

Moving more slowly, Nakoa settled me on the broad ledge, with my feet dangling over. Standing behind me, he wrapped an arm securely around my waist, making it clear without words that the last thing he'd do was let me fall.

We stayed there, without speaking, holding a vigil of sorts. It reminded me of observing the Feast of Moranu, waiting for the sun to rise and begin the new year. Only I'd never done so with a man holding me like this, solidly pressed against my back. I didn't lean against him, but neither did I pull away. Not only because I didn't want to fall. The still steadiness of Nakoa provided a kind of comfort that I didn't care to examine too closely. Whether he'd brought me here to witness my ship's departure as a way of demonstrating my final captivity or out of sympathy, it didn't matter.

Much as it grieved me to watch, I wanted to see them go.

Slowly, the
Hákyrling
moved out of the harbor, passing between the enormous guardian dragons like a mouse creeping between two sleeping cats. Just beyond, the ship seemed to pause and her sails rose with the sunlight, blazing bright red with rosy dawn. They billowed, catching a wind I couldn't feel, and she seemed to leap ahead. Then sailed out of sight around the curve of the island.

Leaving me utterly alone.

The bright day blurred and I realized I wept in a steady stream, my face wet with it. Nakoa, the king of patience, made no move to go, so I tried to wait it out without wiping my tears away, unwilling for him to see me so wrecked. Despite his gentle reassurances, I wouldn't deceive myself that he was my friend or ally. We played a game of strategy, and if I'd learned anything from Ursula, it was to keep a brave face and never let your enemies see you flinch. Unfortunately, she hadn't taught me
how
to do that.

Nakoa let out a long breath and turned to seat himself beside me, facing the opposite direction, switching arms to keep one securely around my waist. I turned my face away. Then gave it up, scrubbed at my cheeks, and made myself look at him. In the bright morning, his black eyes showed lighter, like thinner slices of obsidian that might let light through if I held them up to the sun, the pupils distinct windows. He studied my face in turn, seeming to be deep in thought. Lifting his other hand, he brushed a finger under my eye, tracing the still damp skin there, metaphorically wiping away my tears.

“Sorry,” he said, mimicking my Common Tongue word. He touched one of the marks on his chest, where I'd broken the skin enough to draw a bit of blood, then the healing wound on his throat, tapped me softly over my heart, then brushed away the imaginary tear again. “Sorry,” he repeated, his tonality giving it the lift of a question.

I nodded. “Yes. Sorry.”

Holding my gaze, he bent his head and pressed another kiss to my forehead, letting his lips linger this time, cool against my brow. I might be a bit feverish from my injuries, which would help explain how fragile I felt. Nakoa moved, pressing another kiss to my cheekbone, just under the corner of my eye. With a finger under my chin, he turned my face and did the same to my other cheek. The sensation fluttered through me, warm sun on a winter's day, cool water running over dark stone, salving my thirst. For once the memory didn't feel quite so edged. I let my lids close, savoring the relief from fear, if only for the moment.

Nakoa kissed my eyelids, light as butterfly wings, lifted my chin, and, after a pause, brushed my lips with his. There and gone. Then again.

I likely should have stopped him already, but Jepp's warnings, my resolve, all seemed centuries old instead of hours. I was lonely and the kisses filled me with a golden comfort. While they lasted, I didn't feel hollow and abandoned, but . . . cherished. No one had ever touched me this way, and it felt like the thing I'd longed for, waited for. One part of me stood back and knew it wasn't, that it was all an illusion. Still, I'd made the hard choice, and indulging in Nakoa's physical presence seemed like the one bright spot.

Kisses didn't seal marriages. But they did feed me in a way I desperately needed at that moment.