The Pearl Savage (36 page)

All
of this went through the Queen’s drunken fog in seconds as they
neared the group and the horse stopped. She rose unsteadily from her
cocoon
as if she was in her royal throne room. Purposeful, determined,
vital. She would have everything she wished,
savages
or no.

She
was Queen Ada, reigning monarch of the Kingdom of Ohio,
she rehearsed, straightening to her full height.

Henry hurried over to assist their
Queen but she shot him a withering look of such magnitude he halted
in his tracks.

Bracus looked at the strange
contraption. A half-egg assembly filled with voluminous pillows and a
lantern of some kind which hissed with steam, the soft light catching
the colors of the cushions within, metallic copper thread a light of
its own.

Her First Guard hovered around her
elbow, a hammered body armor of some lightweight metal was strung
together with leather that ran the length of his torso, armpit to
waist. Bracus immediately searched for entry spots. He had never
fought in a war in which his enemy wore armor. It was disquieting. He
could sense the Band searching as he was.

Clara stood alone. She looked to her
side. She was not quite alone; Evelyn needed her, squeezing her hand
again. Clara refocused on the Queen, rising from her moving throne
she stood facing the group as Henry, First Royal Guard, stood loyally
at her side. Clara felt sick, she wished to never see Ada again as
the Queen gazed upon Clara with such lack of compassion and concern.
Clara admitted, if only to herself, it was crushing to her spirit.

“Clara,” Queen Ada began,
ignoring the Band as if they weren’t there.

Clara curtsied. “Yes, my Queen.”

“You look terrible. Are you
without pride?” she asked, her laser stare piercing marrow and
bone.

Clara swallowed her despair in a
bitter pill. No question as to the blood and marks of battle.

“I… I was a part of a….” she
began.

Matthew was suddenly there behind
her and Clara struggled not to show open relief. Only years of
training to blank her expression enabled Clara to obscure her
emotions.

Ada
flicked her eyes to the huge male which came to stand behind Clara.
Most curious,
the Queen thought. He lingered about the girl, as if branding her
.
His whole being seemed poised to take on whoever dare go near her.
Ada paused. She did not like this male, he was entirely too concerned
over Clara. That would not do. Then her eyes took in Charles, to the
left of Clara. She scowled. That dreadful young man was like a weed
which came up in the same spot in the hot house of roses. He would
need to be dealt with as well, a thorn in her side. And
Clarence,
her scowl deepening. He had obviously been behind the escape from the
beginning.
Traitor.
So be it. Queen Ada liked to solve problems, it came to her so
easily; discipline to all.
Why
King Raymond never saw the logic of that precept was beyond her. He
was soft. She had always known that of him.

“Who are you?” Matthew asked,
looking at the flag which bore the symbol of the sphere, framing the
Queen perfectly.

Queen
Ada let her eyes begin at his leather-clad feet, shod in shoes which
laced up calves that swelled deliciously to powerfully constructed
knees and joined thighs built like heavily-muscled timber, the like
of which
they
had just traveled through. She was not accustomed to such flesh
exposed on a male. Shocking indeed, but she found she liked it, she
liked it very much. She took in his trim waist which broadened across
a chest in a leather tunic which hung shoulder to mid-thigh, his hair
swinging free in loose waves which moved in the wind. But it was his
eyes which captured hers. Utterly wild, he was an untamed thing
.
And
as she stared he placed a palm around Clara’s neck, meant to steady,
the hand encircling the girl’s throat easily. And a look of
relaxation slid into her eyes, as if she felt protected by the brute.
This was not good, not good at all.

She liked Clara in a state of
unbalance., teetering.

“My Queen?” Henry asked. And Ada
was snapped out of her reverie.

Matthew stared at her and she
answered, “I am Queen Ada, sovereign ruler of the Kingdom of Ohio,”
she responded in her imperious manner.

Then she told Henry, without looking
at him, “Bring my traveling goblet, guard.”

“Yes, my Queen.” Henry walked to
the travel bag which hung in a jeweled case of brass, welded onto the
side of her traveling cocoon. He brought out the cup, fashioned by a
blacksmith from her home sphere in the finest metal,
titanium-lightweight and travel ready.

Matthew looked at the female and
could not see a mustard seed of kinship between the two women. Clara
had said they were mother and daughter but he could not see it. This
woman was as tall as some men. Raven-colored hair and a ferret’s
face, feral and sharp and too thin by far. Did they not have adequate
food in their kingdom? He felt Clara tremble slightly and his hand
squeezed around her fragile neck. He alone knew that the Queen meant
her physical harm. The other Band did not. That friend of hers,
Charles, would know of her mistreatment, certainly he must. He wished
opportunity to confer with them as this detail mattered. But, of
course, as was typical… danger of circumstance preceded useful
knowledge.

The Queen swaggered forward, coming
to stand before Clara. Looking down on her she took in the disarray
of her wardrobe, her eyes lingering on Clara’s healing face. The
length and weight of the stare grew uncomfortable but Clara had
learned to never take her eyes off of Ada, so she waited.

Finally, Queen Ada said, “We have
come to bring you back to the sphere. There is much planning and
discussion for your Wedded Day.”

Clara knew what would happen but she
spoke the words out loud, “I will not go back. I do not wish to be
wife to Prince Frederick.”

The
slap rang out in the meadow, Clara’s head rocking back and hitting
Matthew’s chest. The Queen raised her hand again and Matthew captured
her
scrawny wrist easily, jerking her close to his face, while putting
Clara behind him. “You will never lift a hand against her again.”
he growled out as he released her so hard she stumbled backward,
Henry catching her, his eyes meeting those of the
savage.

Yes,
Henry
thought wildly
,
this goes most badly.
He
held the Queen, her state of drunkenness notwithstanding as she could
be quite lucid when deep in the cup.

“
I
am not wont to strike a female,
madame
,”
he said the word like
rodent
,
“but for you, I would make an exception,” his eyes glittering
with intent. Ada immediately understood the potential in them.

She
turned her eyes to Clara, seeing her hand print upon the girl’s face
and realized that mayhap if she had handled that differently, the
girl would have gone with her. Now she saw all the eyes of the
savages
look at her with disdain. How dare they?
her
eyes narrowed to slits. She was Queen here; they were nothing. She
slapped at Henry’s hands when he would keep her from saying more.

Charles and Matthew blocked Clara
from her sight, but she would be undeterred.

It was Clara who parted the men and
came forward. “Beating me will not make me accompany you, nothing
will.” That was not entirely true but Clara suspected what awaited
her return.
“I
have left our home sphere for
my
own safety,” the Queen rolled her eyes at Clara, looking as though
she would weep with boredom. Clara forged ahead, “and will not
return for more abuse such as I received from the Prince.” Clara
left off the
and
you.

“A little discipline is good for
all of us Clara. Look at you, you heal already. No permanent damage
was wrought.”

Matthew frowned at Queen Ada, was
the wretched creature deranged? Could she not see that Clara was
still healing? Did she not just strike her own daughter?

Clarence said out loud what they had
been entertaining, “Are you quite mad? Do you not see the abuse
which still heals upon her face? Did you not just add to it by
striking her?” he started pacing.

“You overstep yourself, guard,”
Ada said, her glance telling him that she would never forget the
comment. He cared not, he was not in the kingdom, so she was not
Queen here this day, in this time.

“The Prince attacked me before I
could escape the sphere. He meant to…,” Clara paused, momentarily
embarrassed but pressed on, “have his way with me,” she ended
flatly.

“Now that is a tale I would be
careful in bearing, Clara. Very careful indeed.” Her guard’s horses
shuffling nervously, their hooves making the grass rustle.

“It is not a tale,” Bracus
began. “We were there, we saw what it was. This one,” and he
pointed to Charles, who had come to stand at Clara’s side once more,
“was overpowered and could not defend her against the Prince,” he
said with clear distaste dripping from his voice.

The Queen stared at him. This one
seemed to clearly be in charge, she would reason with him. Surely he
understood hierarchy? Even as a mongrel, he seemed to have a sense of
protocol.

She
looked around her, seeing the biggest of the
savages
appeared to have a deep wound in his side that he was favoring. A
great many bodies were piled four deep a small distance away where
flies droned in lazy circles above the hill of death.

Queen Ada switched tactics. “What
has happened here? Was my daughter involved in battle without
protection?” she asked, crossing her arms over her bony chest. Let
her plant the seed of doubt that they were inadequate to protect a
Princess.

Which of course they were!

“We do not use females in battle,”
James scoffed. How ridiculous was that idea? They had too few females
even if they wished to use them in that way, which they did not. He
thought this horrible woman crazy. She spoke with foolishness and
circular arguments.

Queen
Ada smiled. She liked that they became defensive. She could feel
herself gaining verbal control and relished
the
power of it
.

Clara knew what the Queen was
capable of and saw her games even if the Band did not. She would put
a stop to it and as she opened her mouth for rebuttal just as horses
came galloping out of the woods. It was Stephen and Joseph of the
Band.

What was this?

They pulled up short of the group.
Their steed’s hooves driving into the meadow grass, digging into the
soft earth below and sliding to a stop. Dismounting in a rush with
weapons laid bare, Stephen glanced but for a moment at the queen and
her royal guard, his eyes touching on Clara and Matthew, then
finally, Bracus.

“Captain,” he put his fist to
his heart and Bracus returned the gesture, “a large contingent
approaches. It is the same from the sphere tunnel.”

The
Prince,
Clara
thought with an anguish like heat washing up from her feet to head.
She sat down with an unladylike plop and put her head between her
knees. It was that or she would spray vomit where she stood. She was
shaking uncontrollably, the mere thought of being in his presence
after the recent assault was too alarming for words.

Charles
knelt by her side. “He will not have you or harm you
.
We will die before we allow it.”

Matthew
drew her up against his body. Bracus and Charles both looked at him
with identical expressions of irritation. They
wished
to be the men to comfort her, not he. Matthew tightened his grip.

Clara could feel the heat of him,
the wonderful masculine smell as that special warmth burnt between
them. She allowed herself to be comforted for a moment, his heart
beating against her ear where it lay just below. Then she pulled
away, she had to look…to watch. She turned in the circle of his
arms and what she saw stole her breath.

There were so many, she thought with
dismay.

The Prince had the entire guard with
him.

They
had only seven of the Band and one injured; Clarence and Charles.
There were thirty of the guard,
thirty.

She
felt Matthew tense around her and understood what
he
thought of the odds.

The
Prince saw the group of
savages
standing some distance from a pile of corpses and blood which
littered the field before them. Good. They were tired from their
battle with other
savages
or whoever they were. It mattered not. He looked upon the Queen in
typical drunken indignation and thought it excellent that soon she
would never be indignant again. Finally, his gaze slid to Clara. She
had been within his grasp! He felt his
heart
speed with excitement, she would be underneath him again. He knew
that as sure as he sat on his mount, smelling the remnants of battle
around him. His gaze darkened as he saw the huge male that held her
close to him and his vision instantly went red. How dare another man
touch her? What had she done with him? Had she become a whore so
quickly? He wondered and approached the group.