The Skull Throne (40 page)

“Demonshit,” Leesha hissed. “You’re not some fool gossip, letting out scandals by accident. You told her because you wanted her mothering me.”

“Ay, what if I did?” Jizell put fists on her hips. Leesha might be an adult now, but the woman still loomed over her. “You trust the girl with your life, but not your babe’s? You’re pushing all of us hard, Leesha, but yourself most of all. You’re a woman grown, ay, and can make that choice for yourself, but you’re making choices for two, and neither Wonda nor I is going to let you forget that. Keep arguing and I’ll tell Darsy, as well.”

Leesha’s face heated. She loved Darsy like a sister, but the woman kept a Canon in the apron pocket over her heart. She wouldn’t even brew pomm tea for women. This … Leesha had no reason to think Darsy or many of the other Gatherers would stand by her if it was known she was carrying any child out of wedlock, much less Ahmann Jardir’s.

And with that thought, Jizell started drifting away, blackness closing on Leesha’s vision. She felt herself falling, and the jolt as Jizell caught her, but they were distant things.

“Mistress Leesha!” Wonda called, but she was miles away.

Leesha woke in her own bed. She sat up, looking around the darkened room in confusion. It felt like there were weights on her eyelids.

“Wonda?” she called.

“Mistress Jizell!” Wonda rushed to her bedside. “Gave us all a scare, mistress.”

Jizell appeared with a candle, squeezing Wonda aside. She lifted Leesha’s drooping eyelids with a firm but gentle grasp, holding the candle flame close to check dilation.

“Everything’s sunny, Leesha,” Jizell said, caressing her cheek. “You go on back to sleep. Nothing happening that can’t wait until morning.”

Leesha scraped her dry tongue around the inside of her mouth. “You gave me tampweed and skyflower.”

Jizell nodded. “Sleep. Gatherer’s orders.”

Leesha smiled, snuggling her head back into the pillow and letting blessed sleep claim her.

When she awoke the next morning, Leesha felt stronger than she had in months. Her thoughts were still fogged from the sleeping draught, but it was nothing a good strong tea wouldn’t fix.

Jizell was waiting as she shuffled out of her bedroom, clutching her shawl tight. Her mentor moved about Leesha’s kitchen as comfortably as she did her own. She pushed a steaming teacup into Leesha’s hand, deep black with a dollop of honey, like they had shared on countless mornings. “Bathwater’s hot. See to your privy and take a seat at the table. I’ll have breakfast ready before you know it.”

Leesha nodded, but lingered. “I’m so sorry for what I said.”

Jizell waved a hand. “You oughtn’t be. You were right about most of it. Could have been politer, but a pregnant woman who ent slept right in a month is apt to be prickly. Now go wash up.”

By the time Leesha had finished her bath and tea, her thoughts were clear. She chose her favorite dress and sat to breakfast. As promised, Jizell had a steaming plate of eggs and vegetables waiting.

“Examined you while you were out cold,” Jizell said. “Child’s heart thumps like a Cutter’s axe. Strong.” She pointed her fork at Leesha. “But you’re already starting to show. Thamos might not notice with his face buried in your paps, but the rest of the town will be happy to point it out to him, if they haven’t already. If you mean to tell him before someone else does, now’s the time.”

Leesha kept her eyes on her food. Jizell, like most of the Hollowers, assumed the child belonged to Thamos. “I’ll speak to him. I have to tend the Royal Garden today anyway.”

Jizell laughed. “That what you’ve been calling it? Good a name as any. You make sure that garden is good and tended before you tell him about the crop.”

The carriage took Leesha and Wonda right up to the entrance to the Royal Garden. Some of the count’s men approached, but Wonda moved to intercept them as Leesha disappeared into the boughs. None save her would pass into the garden with Wonda at the gate.

Her heart fluttered as she passed out of sight. Sneaking into Thamos’ Keep was ever a thrill. The fear of getting caught and the anticipation of sex was as strong as a bottle of couzi. But today was different. She would have him one last time as Jizell suggested, but as much for her as for him.

Leesha had once dismissed Thamos as a spoiled fop, good for little more than violence and easily manipulated. But Thamos had proven her wrong again and again. He was not creative, handling things in a by-the-book military fashion, but he was known for his fairness, and folk knew where they stood with him. He never hesitated to use his royal advantages, but neither did he hesitate to stand before the least of his people when the corelings came.

This visit might well end with their betrothal, and Leesha was surprised to find how badly she wanted that. The child would not come for half a year. Who could say what fate the Creator had in store between now and then?

In moments Leesha was through the maze of hedges and slipped through the hidden door into the count’s manse. Tarisa was waiting, escorting her discreetly to a waiting room with another hidden door, leading directly to Thamos’ bedchamber.

The count was waiting, taking her into his arms and kissing her deeply. “Are you all right, my love? There was word you fainted …”

Leesha kissed him again. “It was nothing.” She let her hand drift down, tugging at his belt. “We can steal an hour, at least, before Arther has the nerve to knock. You can take me twice, if you’re man enough.”

Leesha knew the count was up to the task. Thamos fought demons most every night, and she had worked
hora
into his armor and spear. The count was taller now than when she’d met him, and his lust, formidable even then when roused, was doubled now. Since their first night together, there had been no hint of the performance anxiety that had robbed him of stiffness. Already, she could feel his breeches tightening.

Surprisingly, Thamos pulled back, holding her arms at the elbow as he moved his manhood out of reach. “Nothing? You fell unconscious in front of half the Gatherers in the Hollow and it’s nothing?”

Thamos waited for her response, the silence heavy between them. He squeezed her shoulders, putting a gentle finger under her chin to lift her eyes to meet his. “If you have something to tell me, Leesha Paper, now is the time.”

He knows.
Leesha wondered if it had been Tarisa who told him, but in truth it did not matter. “I’m pregnant.”

“I knew it!” Thamos boomed, grabbing her. For a moment she thought it was an attack, but his crushing embrace only lasted an instant before he lifted her from her feet, swinging her around with a whoop of joy.

“Thamos!” Leesha cried, and the count’s eyes widened.

He put her down instantly, staring at her belly in concern. “Of course. The child. I hope I did not …”

“It’s fine,” Leesha said, relief flooding her. “I’m just surprised to see you so pleased.”

Thamos laughed. “Of course I am pleased! Now you will
have
to become my countess. The people will insist on it, and I would have it no other way.”

“Are you certain of that?” Leesha asked.

Thamos nodded eagerly. “I can’t do this without you, Leesha, nor you without me. The Warded Man may be gone, but together, we can drive back the corelings and rebuild the Hollow into one of the great cities of old.”

Leesha could not deny the tingle his words brought to her. Her heart leapt into her throat as Thamos dropped to one knee, taking her hands in his. “Leesha Paper, I promise myself …”

Creator, he’s actually doing it. He has no idea it’s not his.

She froze. It was everything she wanted. At worst, she would have six months to plan. There were orphan children throughout the Hollow. Perhaps she could find a babe that looked enough like Thamos to make a switch and spirit Ahmann’s child to safety.

Or perhaps she was worried over nothing. She remembered Stefny’s words after the council.

Funny thing about children. People see in them what they want to see.

Thamos was swarthier than Leesha and often tanned. Her pale skin would burn, but no tan could take root. The child might be close enough to avoid scrutiny, especially if Leesha quickly delivered additional children, Thamos’ true heirs.

I will be a good wife,
she promised silently.
A good countess. You will not regret taking me as your bride, even if the day comes when you learn the truth.

Tears rolled down her nose in fat drops. She hadn’t even realized she was crying.

Creator, I think I’m in love.

She opened her mouth, wanting nothing more than to promise herself to this man and make his dreams come true.

But the words caught in her throat. He looked at her with such sincerity, such love, that she could not stand the thought of betraying him.

She pulled her hands away, taking a step back from him. “Thamos, I …”

“What is it, my love? Why are you not …” And then, suddenly, he put it together. Even without wardsight, she could see the change in his eyes as he stood.

“Night, the rumors are true,” Thamos said. “I had three of my men whipped for such talk just last week, but they spoke honest word. The demon of the desert. The man who conquered Rizon, killing thousands and filling all Thesa with a vagrant refugee class that will last for generations. You ripping stuck him.”

“And you stuck every maid in Angiers, to hear gossips tell it,” Leesha snapped. “I wasn’t promised to you when I lay with him, Thamos. We hardly knew each other. I didn’t even know you were coming to the Hollow.”

“Those maids weren’t killing by the thousand,” Thamos said, making no effort to deny it.

“If they were,” Leesha asked, “and you could slow their advance and learn their plans by bedding them, would you have hesitated?”

“So you were whoring, then,” Thamos said.

Leesha slapped him. Thamos’ eyes widened a moment in shock, then shut tight. His face was a snarl as he balled his great fists.

Leesha was edging her hand toward the pouch where she kept her blinding powder when he gave a shout and stormed away from her, pacing the room like a caged nightwolf. He gave another shout, punching the goldwood post of his great bed.

“Aaaahhh!” he cried, clutching the hand.

Leesha rushed to him, taking his hands. “Let me look.”

“Haven’t you done enough?!” Thamos shouted, his face a mask of anguish, reddened and tear-streaked.

Leesha looked at him calmly. “Please. You might have broken something. Just sit still for a moment and let me see.”

Thamos limply allowed himself to be led to the bed, where they sat as Leesha pulled his protective hand away and examined the damaged one. It was red, with the skin torn at the knuckles, but it could have been much worse.

“There’s nothing broken,” she said. From a pocket of her apron she took an astringent and cloth, cleaning and dressing the wound. “Just put it in a bowl of ice …”

“Is there at least a chance it’s mine?” Thamos’ eyes were pleading.

Leesha took a deep breath, shaking her head. She could almost feel her heart twisting and tearing in her chest. There was still a chance with Thamos, and she had just crushed it.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I swear it. If I could go back and change things, I would. I know I led you on. At first it was to protect the child, but only at first.”

“What was it after?” Thamos asked.

“Because I want to be your countess,” Leesha said. “More than anything, I want it.”

Thamos yanked his hand away, standing and beginning to pace again. “If that’s honest word, then prove it. Brew Weed Gatherer’s tea and flush the child. Start anew, as mine.”

Leesha blinked. It had not surprised her when her mother suggested it, and no doubt Inevera and Araine would want the same. Women could be cold about such things, when they had to. But she never thought Thamos would murder an innocent child.

“No,” she said. “I drank the tea once—without even knowing if there was a life growing in me or not—and it was the biggest regret of my life. More even than bedding Ahmann. Never again.”

“Augh!” Thamos cried, taking a vase and throwing it across the room. Leesha stiffened. Thamos had to work himself up to violence in the night. Why would it be different here? She rose as well, edging toward the secret door to the gardens.

And Wonda.

But again Thamos surprised her, the rage leaving him with a sigh as his shoulders slumped. His face was one of defeat as he turned to her. “You realize all Hollow County, and my mother, thinks it’s mine?”

Leesha nodded, weeping. Her legs turned to water, and she stumbled back to the bed, covering her face in a vain attempt to hide her sobbing. She sat there for long moments, wretched and convulsing, but then there was weight on the bed, and Thamos put an arm around her.

Leesha leaned in to him, wondering if it was for the last time. She clutched at his shirt, holding tight and breathing deep, remembering his scent.

“I’m sorry to involve you in this,” she said. “I didn’t expect you to start courting me, or that I would fall in love with you. I was just trying to protect my baby.”

“Protect it from who?” Thamos said. “No one in the Hollow would have harmed the child.”

“The Krasians would cut it from me, if they knew,” Leesha said. “Or worse, wait till it’s born and then take it from me, raising it to believe it’s the heir to the green lands.”

She looked at Thamos. “And your mother might take it hostage, too. Don’t deny it.”

Thamos dropped his eyes, nodding. “She would likely think it best.”

“And you, Thamos?” Leesha asked. She was pressing too soon, but she had to know. “A moment ago you could not go on without me. Would you see me imprisoned at court with your mother?”

Thamos slumped. “What am I to do? Rhinebeck still has no son. My mother thinks you may be carrying the next heir to the ivy throne in your womb. How am I supposed to tell her it’s the demon of the desert’s heir instead?”

“I don’t know,” Leesha said. “There’s no need to decide now. There’s been no formal announcement of my condition. Let’s just act normally and try to figure things out.” She squeezed Thamos’ hand, and when he did not pull away she leaned in for one last kiss.