Lock (23 page)

Monique’s eyes widened. “So he’s the one…I’m so sorry, Sparrow. No wonder why you’re upset.”

“Upset isn’t the word!”

“I’m afraid Miska’s the Empress’s favorite, so there’s nothing I can do to help you find justice. He’s been given all the privileges of a gladiator. You know how respected they are in the city.”

“Respect! That bastard killed Thea! I’m going to kill him myself!” Sparrow ran in the direction Miska had ridden.

Lock caught her and held her close,

“Let me go!” She tried to push away. “I’m going to kill him, Lock, and no one will stop me!”

“Sparrow, he’d destroy you in seconds.”

“Not before I cut off his balls!”

Lock felt his stomach tighten. He’d never seen Sparrow so furious. Not that he blamed her, but for her to fight Miska would end in disaster. One look in the man’s eyes and Lock knew he had no soul. He’d reminded Lock of himself—or rather how he used to be before meeting Sparrow.

“Let me go!”

He tightened his grip, feeling her trembling against him. Finally she stopped struggling and looked up at him, tears glistening in her beautiful eyes. “You don’t know what he did to her, Lock. I want him dead.”

“I won’t let you do it.”

“You have no right!”

“If you attack him, he’ll kill you, and I couldn’t bear it.” He grasped her shoulders and shook her gently. “I’ve never had anything like what we share. Don’t take it away from me.”

Sparrow’s anger faded and she touched his face, the pain in her eyes lacerating him worse than a whip’s cut. She nodded.

Monique approached and touched Sparrow’s arm. “I am sorry.”

Sparrow shook her head and blinked tears from her eyes. “Doesn’t matter. I came here on more important business. Monique, I need your help. Lock and I want to marry.”

The blond glanced at the band on Lock’s arm. “But he’s your slave. You can’t marry a slave in Begonia.”

“I know, but I was hoping there might be some law…”

“None that I now of, and I’ve been on the council most of my life, but I can look in the scrolls again. Would you like to come with me to the palace?”

“Yes. Please.”

“This way.” Monique motioned for them to follow her through the narrow streets of the marketplace, past the well in the spacious square, and finally to the gate of the tall, white palace itself.

* * * * *

In the company of Monique, Sparrow and Lock were allowed to enter the palace through the main hall. At one time, Sparrow would have been shown the respect of a princess regardless of whether she visited the palace with a council member or alone. Since her family’s fall, she was treated as a commoner, even though she retained acquaintanceships with both council members and the Empress of Begonia herself.

Two guards dressed in silver armor opened the double doors at the palace entrance, and Monique led them into the hall, a vast square marble room. Blue and white tapestries hung from the high ceilings, and finely-woven rugs scattered across the floor. An oak table stood in the center of the room, reaching almost from wall to wall. On a raised marble platform on the far wall stood two silver thrones, side by side.

Sparrow experienced a feeling of familiarity as she looked at the hall. She remembered her life as a princess clearly, though at times it seemed so long ago. Once, she never would have imagined working a farm or sharing her bed with a man who was rough as a rock face, who had never put on airs. At least when Lock said he loved her, seldom as that may be, she believed him. Unlike ladies and gentlemen of the court, he didn’t bother with love lies. He didn’t try to pretend he was someone he wasn’t, and she knew in spite of his faults, she was far happier with him than she ever would have been with the prince to whom she’d been betrothed.

“Now,” Monique paused and glanced at Lock, “I suppose you want him to join us?”

“If possible.”

Monique sighed. “Slaves aren’t usually allowed in the archives, but I’ll make an exception, considering your unique relationship with this one.”

“Thank you for small favors,” Lock muttered.

Sparrow poked her elbow into his stomach. “Will you be quiet? This is a palace, not a tavern!”

Monique lifted her chin and glanced away from Lock.

“Forgive me,” Lock spoke with quiet reserve though his eyes flashed anger at Sparrow, “My Lady.”

Monique led them to the nearest door that opened to a narrow corridor with a winding staircase leading to the top of the palace. They stopped at a second floor hallway and entered the archive, a vast room with shelves on all four walls containing innumerable scrolls and leather bound books. Long wooden ladders hung from the ceiling so the volumes on the highest shelves could be reached. Several oak tables, lit by metal lanterns carved into the shape of dragons, stood in the center of the carpeted floor. Two ladies dressed in robes similar to Monique’s sat at the tables. They looked up from their scrolls and glanced at Lock with curiosity.

Sparrow knew them both, and they nodded at her in greeting before returning to their work.

“Follow me.” Monique walked across the room and stood by the light of a round window in between several shelves. “This section involves the laws of marriage. Over there,” she pointed to a higher shelf, “regards slavery. I know you don’t understand the legal intricacies of our ways, but you can help me look through the books to find something that might pertain to your situation.”

Sparrow sighed as she stared at the rows of books in each section. It might take longer than she expected.

“Is it permissible for me to help?” Lock asked.

Monique and Sparrow turned to him. Sparrow noted the surprise on the woman’s face and she felt a bit taken aback herself. Lock’s voice had sounded so soft and polite she wondered if she’d taken the right man with her.

“He can read?” Monique raised an eyebrow.

Sparrow met Lock’s eyes and he offered her a smug grin. She said, “Of course he can read.”

Monique’s brow furrowed. “A slave really shouldn’t be allowed to touch our books, but…I suppose there’s no harm in it, especially seeing how long it could take to read these volumes.”

They each chose a book and sat at an empty table where they spent hours searching for any law that might allow Sparrow and Lock to marry in Begonia.

“Slaves are meant to stay slaves. That’s all there is to it.” Monique closed the book in front of her and rubbed her eyes. “Why do you have to marry him, anyway? Can’t you just keep him as he is? Give a man too much power and he’ll tread on you.”

“I’m a little tired of being spoken of like an object.” Lock folded his arms across his chest.

Monique continued as if Lock didn’t exist. “If it’s lust you feel, Sparrow, it will fade.”

“Why does everyone think I’m in lust?”

“Look at him.” Monique pointed at Lock. “Quite a piece of man flesh, if I do say so. Tall, strong, good lines.”

“Do you want to check his teeth while you’re at it?” Sparrow’s voice dripped with disgust.

Monique didn’t seem to notice. “If you want me to.”

“Nobody’s checking my teeth!” Lock stood and Monique leapt.

“Is he dangerous?” The woman’s wide eyes turned to Sparrow.

“Not if you know how to handle him. Lock, will you sit down and stop scaring people.”

“All I did was stand up!”

“Sparrow, if he can’t control himself, he’ll have to wait in the slave quarters.”

“Sparrow! So nice to see you again!”

Sparrow glanced over her shoulder toward Empress Daryn who approached, followed by two slight, chestnut-haired male slaves. The men wore ankle-length white tunics open at the chest, their long hair bound at their napes with golden bands. They walked six paces behind their leader, their hands folded in front of them, their eyes cast toward the floor.

Sparrow saw Lock’s lip curl with disgust, and she placed a warning hand on his arm as she bowed to Daryn. “So nice to see you again as well. Monique was helping me search through the law books.”

“She wishes to marry this slave.” Monique pointed at Lock.

“Marry? A slave? My dear, have you finally lost your mind along with your Knights of the Ruby Order: Lock?” The Empress’s gaze swept Lock. “Lovely, though a bit too tall. He might make a decent gladiator.”

“He really wouldn’t.” Sparrow wrinkled her nose. “He doesn’t have the proper training. He cares for my pigs.”

Lock opened his mouth to speak, but Sparrow elbowed him again as Daryn burst into laughter. “Pigs? I’m sure that’s not
all
he does for you Sparrow. Remember, you won’t have to bother marrying him. Just order him to perform for you. It’s so much better than binding yourself legally to a man.”

“But I’d like to marry and have children.” Sparrow tried to keep her temper in check.

“Then find yourself a free man. There’s no law that allows slaves to marry in Begonia…or maybe there is.” Daryn narrowed her eyes and stroked her chin with a red-tipped finger. “Each year, there’s a competition in my private harem.”

“What kind of competition?” Lock asked.

The Empress smiled at Sparrow, ignoring Lock. “The competitors are all male slaves, mostly my own, though others are welcome to enter, with the permission of their mistresses.”

“What kind of competition?” Lock asked again.

“Most women don’t allow their slaves to enter because they generally end up losing them.”

“What kind of competition?” Sparrow asked.

“The slaves perform for me.”

“I did use the same language as Sparrow, didn’t I?” Lock spoke sarcastically.

“Perform?” Sparrow asked.

“Yes. Whatever talents they might have. Some sing, some dance, some provide a demonstration with weapons. The one I find most interesting wins. He can have anything he desires. Most of them choose their freedom. If this man of yours really wants to marry you as well, and if he wins, he can request his freedom and you can marry. However, I wouldn’t wager on him staying with you once he’s free. Most likely he’s just using your innocence, Sparrow.”

“So if Lock competes and wins, you’ll grant his freedom?”

“If he wants it.”

Sparrow gazed at Lock. She couldn’t decide what he felt from his expression. At times he drove her to insanity!

“Oh, and if your slave wins, you get fifty gold pieces. Just a bit of compensation for the woman who loses a laborer.”

“Well, you’ve found your law.” Monique sighed. She bid Sparrow goodbye and bowed to Daryn before leaving.

“Sparrow, I was just on my way to the games. Since you’re here, why don’t you come watch my gladiators? My favorite, Miska, is fighting today.”

Sparrow’s stomach tightened. For a few brief hours she’d been so absorbed in the law books that she’d forgotten about Miska. The sound of his name, the memory of what he’d done, sickened her. “No. I’d rather not. We should be going home now.”

“I’d like to watch,” Lock said.

Again, Daryn looked right through him and conversed with Sparrow. “Pity. Perhaps next time?”

“I’d like to watch,” Lock repeated, a bit louder.

Sparrow stared at him. He knew how much she hated Miska. “Why?”

“I’m curious about the sport.” He held her eyes. “Please.”

Please?
Again, Lock was acting completely out of character. Watching the gladiators seemed to be quite important to him.

“All right,” Sparrow said to Daryn. “We’ll watch. Lock can come with us, can’t he?”

“If you like, your slave may accompany you.”

The Empress led the way out of the palace, her slender men behind her, a living extension of her dress’s blue velvet train.

Lock muttered curses in his own language under his breath, and Sparrow whispered, “Will you behave before you get yourself thrown into the dungeon! I don’t know why you want to see these games, Lock. You know how much I hate that man!”

He touched her hair gently. “I have my reasons. I’m not doing this to hurt you, Sparrow. Believe me.”

She sighed. Maybe Miska would be slaughtered during the games, then they’d be worth watching after all.

Lock tried his best to ignore the looks of anger and hurt Sparrow flung at him as they followed Daryn through the palace halls. He knew she hated the thought of seeing Miska again, but Lock wanted to measure the man’s fighting skill. If his plan worked, Sparrow would have, without danger to herself, the revenge she so desired. Outside, a carriage waited. The Empress invited Sparrow to ride inside with her while Lock followed on foot along with the two effeminate servants.

Sparrow’s got more muscle than they do
, he thought with disgust. Even when out of the Empress’s presence, the men walked with their gazes cast down, their expressions impassive.

“So what are these games like?” Lock asked.

The slave closest to him replied in scarcely a whisper.

“What’s that?” Lock spoke louder.

“Shhh!” The other man shot Lock a furious look. “Do you want to get us punished?”

Lock raised an eyebrow and lowered his voice to a mock whisper, “So what are these games like?”