Warrior (26 page)

Lytheria and many more would die,

and Ishat had foreseen chaos if

Mitherie became involved. But if she

said ‘thank you’, Tarbin would

assume that she was happy with this

arrangement, even if she wasn’t.

She’d forced herself to marry Vulcan

to save her sister. Even if she didn’t

like it, she’d done it, and it was legal

and binding.

She smiled at the messenger.

“Please thank your prince for me. Tell

him that I am deeply touched by

concern but that I am quite satisfied

with my situation.”

The messengers bowed to her once

more before they turned to Vulcan,

bowed and were gone. Varian

followed them out. Vulcan’s eyes

remained on his wife. Jaisyn returned

his stare evenly, waiting for him to ask

the question that was plaguing his

mind.

“Are you not going to disclose to

your husband what the prince said in

his letter?” Vulcan’s voice was soft

and deadly.

Jaisyn moved closer to him. “It was

a private letter, my lord. Tarbin

wished me well, and wished to know

if I was happy.”

Vulcan’s brow lifted. “I do not

believe you, Jaisyn.”

She shrugged her shoulders and

tossed a braid that had fallen against

her breast to her back. “Be that as it

may, but I am telling the truth.”

Her husband stood and quickly

made his way to her. Jaisyn flinched

at the rage she glimpsed in his eyes. “I

want the truth, Jaisyn!”

“I have given you the truth. Tarbin

asked after my health, and wished me

well,” Jaisyn stated. She wasn’t going

to repeat everything in the letter. Her

husband could be quite unpredictable

at times. Like now, as he approached

her.

Jaisyn stood her ground. He was

used to intimidating people. She

wouldn’t let him intimidate her.

“I have told you what you wished to

know—”

His hand reached out and his vise-

like fingers closed over her arm,

dragging her flush up against his body.

Jaisyn let out a squeal before her fists

struck out to beat and claw at him.

“Stop it, Vulcan,” she managed to

get out even as she was crushed

against him. “You are hurting me!”

His grip on her arm relaxed but he

didn’t release her. Instead, he leaned

his head down so that his breath

fanned her ear. “Do you think me

stupid? Do you think I do not know

that

whatever

you’ve

told

the

messenger was code for something?

Have you offered yourself to the

Prince of Mitherie once more, even

though you are a married woman?

Does your Goddess not speak against

adultery? Have you given him

permission to rally his armies against

me? What have you done, treacherous

witch?”

Jaisyn struggled in his arms but his

grip only tightened, and finally she

stilled, her harsh breathing the only

noise coming from the study.

“I have done nothing!” she insisted,

pushing against the rock-hard expanse

of his chest under the soft cotton tunic

that he wore. Feeling her strength give

against the ruthlessness of his, she

allowed her hands to rest against his

tunic, trying to keep herself balanced.

“For your sake, Jaisyn, I hope that is

true,” Vulcan warned angrily. He

released her arm, causing her to

stagger slightly before she caught

herself.

When she recovered, she threw him

a disgusted glare. “Bastard!” she spat.

“Does that make you feel more of a

king, to manhandle me that way?”

Vulcan, by now accustomed to the

outbursts of his queen, ignored her

and walked back to the chair. He took

a seat, and stared down at her.

Crossing her arms over her chest,

Jaisyn snarled, “If you ever do that

again, I will cleave your head from

body and feed it to the—”

“Jaisyn,” he warned softly, but

through his teeth. “Leave now before I

give in to the temptation to throttle

you.”

Jaisyn’s teeth snapped together in

outrage as she glared at him. She

should have given Tarbin permission

to rally his troops just to be able to

watch Tarbin hack Vulcan to bits!

Bastard.

Without another word, she spun

around and headed from the room.

She was on her way to the solar when

Mathilda ran up to her, wrapping her

arms around her elder sister as she

beamed brightly. Jaisyn relaxed.

“Jassy,” Mathilda said happily and

Jaisyn forced a smile for her. Mathilda

looked the part of the Flower of the

East, dressed as she was in a beautiful

pink and green day dress, with her

lustrous hair pinned nicely atop her

head and a small but fashionable hat

adorned atop that.

“A bard has written another poem in

my honor,” she declared happily and

a genuine smile lit Jaisyn’s features.

“Which bard was it this time and

what is it called?” she asked her sister.

“Dunstan Kippel from Broming has

written a poem called ‘Look to the

Flower, She Dwells in the East.’

Apparently, he has performed it

everywhere but only today did he

send me a personal copy. And it is

beautiful, Jassy.” Mathilda sounded so

happy that Jaisyn couldn’t help but

laugh at the younger sister she would

give anything to protect. Her smile

faltered when she thought
I already

did
.

“Have you told this to Isolde?”

Jaisyn asked her sister. Mathilda

pursed her lips and rolled her eyes.

“No, she would only laugh at every

line and try to discredit it.”

Inwardly, Jaisyn chuckled. Mathilda

was right, of course. Isolde was not

the type of person to listen to poetry

and think it beautiful unless it were

accurate. She would have read every

line and compared it to the real

Mathilda before easily denouncing the

poem. This was not something that

she did out of cruelty, but rather

nature.

“I’m going to the city,” Mathilda

said, making to move past her sister.

Jaisyn

halted

her.

“Who

is

accompanying you, Matty?”

“Angie and Sarah and a few

soldiers,”

Mathilda

immediately

supplied, smiling at her sister’s

concern. Angie and Sarah were two

siblings from the city. Their parents

were merchants, very rich merchants,

who had built a good relationship with

Wilhelm during his lifetime and as

such,

Angie

and

Sarah

were

welcomed heartily to court.

“What

about

Isolde?”

Jaisyn

inquired, wondering why her sister

was not going out on this excursion.

Now that she really thought of it, she

hadn’t been seeing much of Isolde

lately. Except for mealtimes, during

which Isolde was usually quieter than

usual, Jaisyn hardly ever saw her

sister.

“I can hardly find her anywhere

lately,” Mathilda admitted. Something

behind Jaisyn caught her attention and

she giggled. She gave Jaisyn a quick

hug before bolting for the doors,

where one of her friends was calling

to her.

Unease crept over Jaisyn as she

thought of Mathilda’s words. Was her

sister feeling well? Deciding she had

neglected her sister enough, Jaisyn

went in search of her.

Chapter 8

Vulcan was very pleased, more

pleased than he let on, to know that

his wife had not asked the prince of

Mitherie to gather his armies. While

the Mitherie messengers slept for the

night, Varian had one of the servant

boys slip into their sleeping chambers,

and switch their satchels. He would

have done it himself, but it would have

been difficult to explain his reason for

being there should a draft wake one of

them.

The

boy,

whose

body

practically hummed in anticipation,

had waited as Varian read the missive.

Before the messengers left for

Mitherie, the boy switched the bags

once more.

Now that Vulcan knew Mitherie

wouldn’t pose a threat to his rule, he

was planning for his return to Morden.

He’d been away from Morden for

over a month, much longer than he

had originally anticipated, and was

eager to return home. The Lytherian

heat was slowly getting to him. For

those accustomed to it, it was bliss,

but

for

a

Northern

warrior,

accustomed to the cold and snow, it

was quite tedious. Sweating all the

time, numerous baths… it seemed

almost ridiculous.

He heard the telltale creak of the

door to the study being opened and

looked up from the letters upon his

desk to the tall figure of his brother.

Varian offered him a small smile and

remained standing before the desk.

“You sent for me, Vulcan?” Varian

asked calmly and although he smiled

and looked his usual carefree self,

Vulcan had the feeling that something

was off with his brother. He’d seen

Varian, who was known for his

genteel

behavior,

his

easy-going

nature, launch into a brutal attack on

one of the warriors during training.

He’d seen him snap, snarl and

basically

take

on

Vulcan’s

temperament over the past days. The

Morden warriors, accustomed to the

temper of their king, did not flinch or

even bat an eyelid when Varian’s

temperament

changed,

but

the

Lytherians were visibly agitated at

having not one but two unpredictable

leaders.

“Is something amiss, brother?”

Vulcan asked evenly, staring directly

into his brother’s pale eyes.

Varian dipped his head. “Not that I

am aware, brother.”

Repressing a sigh, Vulcan shook his

head. Varian didn’t disclose personal

information unless he wanted to. He

decided to address a very important

issue with his brother. When he’d said

his part, Varian protested slightly, but

Vulcan was his brother and king, and

so in the end, he had no choice but to

submit.

***

Vulcan sat at the head of the table in

the Great Hall with his brother and the

highest ranked of the Lytherian

generals and lieutenants around him.

“Every man around this table has

sworn fealty to me, on pain of death

or worse,” Vulcan began slowly, his

gaze touching that of each man at the

table. “I will be returning to Morden

soon. Your loyalties will be tested. In

my stead, I am leaving my brother to

perform the duties of the ruler of

Lytheria.”

Some of the Lytherian generals

shifted

uneasily

but

made

no

objections. “Does anyone object to

Varian acting in my stead?”

No one answered and Vulcan

waited for a minute before continuing.

“I am pleased to see that you will

obey my brother as you would me.

Any attack upon my brother, be it

physical or verbal, is a direct affront to

my rule, and I will return it tenfold.”

Silence.

“It is your responsibility, as generals

and lieutenants, to rally your soldiers

behind my brother. Serve me well and

you will be rewarded. Betray me and

face my wrath. It is your choice. I

hope you will make the right one.”

Vulcan stopped and looked around

the table once more. The men were

silent but none looked visibly upset.

Varian cleared his throat and asked,

“Will any of you challenge my right to

rule, Lytheria?”

One by one the generals and

lieutenants swore, by the grace of