Mica (28 page)

“Sun’s told me much about you and your wife.” Mica gripped the Knight’s hand.

The man’s grasp was firm, his hands rough. Mica turned to the lady and nodded.
“Sparrow, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

She smiled. “Sun’s told us about you as well. How are you feeling?”

“Much better thank you. We owe you for turning your ship around. I’m very grateful.”

Lock waved his hand in dismissal. “It’s what we do.”

“Your gift of foresight is amazing.”

Lock snorted. “Some gift. At times I feel it’s a curse but in cases like this I’m glad for it. At least we were able to help.”

The group fell into light conversation over a meal of fruit, bread and stew.

“You have a beautiful city,” Sparrow commented. “I’m sorry we couldn’t have visited under better circumstances.”

“When the war ends I hope you’ll visit again.”

“You can wager on it.” Lock wagged his slice of bread in Mica’s direction. “Blaze has been talking to your emperor about opening relations between Ademene and the Ruby Order.”

Mica exchanged a pleased look with Sun.

“That would be wonderful,” Sun said. “Maybe I can talk Dame Neila into stationing me here for a while.”

“That would be excellent.” Mica smiled at her, his heartbeat quickening at the thought of Sun spending more time in the Kennas. He turned away when he felt Lock’s gaze upon them. Perhaps it was knowing the Knight could often read the future but Mica felt like the man saw everything, even things people tried to conceal.

“We’ll be here often I’m guessing,” Lock continued. “Sparrow speaks several of your dialects.”

“I understand from Sun you’re fluent in many languages.” Mica turned to Sparrow.

“Such knowledge is an invaluable tool.”

“She’s my favorite crew member.” Lock winked at his wife who offered him a coquettish look. The Knight reached for a chunk of fruit and took a big bite. Uncurling his index finger from the fruit, he pointed at Mica. “So what’s this I hear about you getting your balls cut off?”

Sparrow gasped, her face turning scarlet. “Lock!”

Mica forced his expression to remain impassive. He wasn’t sure if he should be offended or laugh aloud. Lock wore the uniform of the Ruby Order and possessed the courage and skill of a Knight, but he obviously had learned none of the gracious manners that marked so many of his Order.

“Lock, now’s not the time,” Sun said, a smile playing around her lips.

The Knight leaned back in his chair. “I’m just asking because such a custom is unfamiliar to me. It’s supposed to be something religious, am I right?”

“It’s a sacred ritual,” Mica explained though he guessed Lock’s interest truly wasn’t
in the rites of another culture. “The Priest forms himself into the image of the Goddess.

From what I understand the Goddess is similar to the Spirit your part of the world worships.”

Lock raised an eyebrow. “Except the Spirit doesn’t ask for the family jewels as a trophy.”

Mica smiled in spite of himself. The Knight was nosy and obnoxious but his honesty was almost respectable. “The Goddess doesn’t ask. We choose to give.”

“Have you lost your sanity, boy?” Lock tossed the fruit aside and leaned closer to Mica, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t even do such a thing to my horse and you’re contemplating this self-mutilation. Think about what you’re—”

“I don’t see how this is any of your business.” Mica shrugged off Lock’s hand.

Sparrow shot her husband a furious look. “He’s right.”

The Knight shook his head. “I don’t know how you can go through with it.”

“If it’s meant to be I will go through with it. Can’t you foresee that? You’re supposed to be the prophet.”

“I’m no prophet. Just a man concerned with the welfare of another man.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Mica said, some of his anger fading when he realized Lock’s words were spoken out of a genuine desire to help combined with total ignorance of an unfamiliar culture. “However any man considered for the Priesthood works hard to prove himself worthy of the ritual. I’m afraid someone outside the Goddess’ service can never truly understand.”

“I can’t argue there.” Lock sighed. “It’s odd that a man with your reputation as a general has turned to a Priest’s life.”

“No stranger than a SothSea pirate turned Knight of the Ruby Order.”

Beneath his heavy white beard Lock’s lips curved into a broad smile. “A point well taken. I’m looking forward to training with you and working to keep your land free of the false emperor.”

“As am I. Your help is appreciated.”

Sparrow stood. “Now that I’ve had my share of humiliation for the day I think I’ll drag my husband back to our room before he does any more damage.”

“I’m afraid not, girl.” Lock kissed her before he walked to the door. “I need to get back to training. I’ll be late.”

“It seems you’ll do better in the field than at a proper table,” Sparrow continued as the couple, still trading barbs, left the room.

Sun folded her arms across her chest and laughed. “Those two never change.”

“Now I understand why your friend Lock gets into all the brawls you’ve described.

I’m surprised someone hasn’t killed him already.”

“Many have tried but Lock’s no easy target. He’s strong as a tiger and more cunning.”
“For his sake he better be.”

“He really was only trying to help, you know.”

“Why does everyone want to point out the bad side of this ritual?”

“You mean there’s a good side?”

Mica wanted to retort but he realized the truth of her words. The more time he spent dreaming of a life with her the more outrageous the ritual seemed.

The time was approaching when he’d have to admit his mistake. But not now. They had a war to endure. If he survived then he would be free to truly follow whatever path the Goddess intended for him.

* * * * *

It was nearly a week before Mica felt up to leaving the Priests’ quarters to venture to other parts of the palace. Though he asked Kado and Blaze for details regarding the coming war he received little information. The forced rest was beginning to annoy him though he understood he needed a complete recovery to be of use to others as well as himself. He hadn’t mentioned it but he knew one possible way to end the war with scarcely any bloodshed. He realized the emperor, Kado and others in Ademene must have contemplated a similar plan but the risks were great. Perhaps too great. Should the challenge be sent and the emperor’s champion fail…

Mica shook his head. It wasn’t worth considering. Yet.

It was late morning when Mica left his room. He walked to the great hall where he sat for several moments watching the servants clean before deciding to visit the training field. He stopped at the stable and talked to his mare, glad to know Zareb had been exercising her daily. In truth he’d been shocked and pleased to learn his and Sun’s horses had been recovered during the skirmish in the desert.

He rubbed between the mare’s eyes and contemplated riding her to the training field but he often felt dizzy from the portia. The last thing he wanted was to fall off the horse and appear like even more of an invalid. Blaze assured him that soon the treatment would be complete and he’d have his life back. Mica could scarcely wait. He relished the thought of repaying Karlus in full for his vile actions—particularly toward Sun. Every indignity she’d suffered had driven Karlus closer to his death.

Mica vividly recalled the false general’s assault on his body. Each time he remembered the feeling of Karlus’ slimy skin and the heat of his breath, disgust crawled up his spine.
Chapter Fourteen

At the training field Mica paused, watching the warriors jousting on horseback, wrestling and practicing with swords and other weapons. Amidst the archers Dame Sun dressed in her vest and trousers fired arrows into a target, striking the center each time. Mica noted many of her cuts and bruises had faded and she looked fit. Though he admired her physical strength at times he worried about her emotional health. She must have been deeply affected by what she’d endured. He longed to comfort her but she wouldn’t allow it.

Mica caught sight of Lock practicing hand-to-hand fighting with Blaze and several Knights. A group of Nalmites also trained nearby. Valor, his sword drawn, battled with a woman even taller than Sun. A strip of leather bound her dark hair behind her back.

Muscles rippled beneath the smooth skin of her arms exposed in a sleeveless brown uniform.

Moments later Sun joined Mica. She nodded in the direction of Valor and the woman. “That’s Colonel Zimm-Bella, Valor’s mother.”

“His
mother
?”

“From what I hear she’s one of the best warriors in the Nalmite army. She’s in charge of the troops sent here.”

Mica watched Valor and his mother trade blows. She spun, nearly swiping off his ear with the tip of her blade. Valor kicked her onto her back. She sprang to her feet and their blades clashed again.

“There are quite a few females with the Nalmite troops,” Sun commented, her gaze sweeping the newcomers.

Most of the Nalmites were dark with elongated, almost animal-like ears and sharp incisor teeth. The females were taller than most human males. Their counterparts towered over most of the Knights and the emperor’s soldiers. Only Lock, Mica, Blaze and a handful of others rivaled the Nalmites in height.

“They seem bred for war,” Mica observed.

Sun nodded. “I’d rather fight alongside them than against them.”

Lock strode across the field and joined them, studying Valor.

“Those Nalmites make quite a display,” the Knight said.

“They appear formidable,” Mica agreed.

“Good skill. Plenty of power.”

Valor and his mother ended their match.

“Not bad,” Lock commented as the two passed by.
Colonel Zimm-Bella paused, turning back to the group. Valor followed.

“I suppose you think you could do better, human?” The Colonel’s gray eyes fixed on the Knight. Up close the Nalmite woman’s face was as striking as her body. Wavy brown hair blended with her tanned skin. Her forehead was high, her eyebrows wickedly arched. The tips of her sharp incisor teeth glittered against her full lower lip.

Fine lines marked her eyes and mouth, the only signs of early middle age. Mica guessed she must have been very young when she’d mothered Valor.

Lock smiled. “It would be a close match. Do you welcome visitors in your land? I’d like to train there someday.”

It was Zimm-Bella’s turn to smile. “Only the rarest of your kind could hope to survive among Nalmite warriors. Though we respect your Order you’d be outclassed and overpowered—even at your size.”

Lock raised an eyebrow. “Not from what I’ve observed.”

Mica’s gaze switched to Valor who had been watching in silence, interest gleaming in his eyes.

“If you’re ever looking for a sparring partner let me know,” Lock told Valor.

Zimm-Bella laughed aloud. “Quite self assured, aren’t you, Sir? Valor is elite among the Nalmites. He’s a protector, specially trained to guard a Royal. His strength and skill are well-known even among our kind. I’m not speaking with a mother’s pride. The Moon God knows he has his share of faults but none of them are in the battlefield.”

“Sounds challenging,” Lock said.

Mica realized the reason behind Lock’s infamous fights. The man could never seem to hold his tongue. This time he might have met his match. Mica remembered fighting Valor in the Circle. They’d been armed with staffs but he recalled the Nalmite’s brute strength.

“Any time you want a match, Sir,” Valor said.

Lock unbuckled his sheath and handed it to Sun who’d been observing the conversation with excitement in her eyes. Smiling, Mica shook his head slightly. Sun was nearly as bad as Lock. He might have been jealous had he sensed any attraction between the two. Yet nothing sparked between the Knight and the Dame other than genuine friendship.

Thank the Goddess.

It would still be some time before he was in peak fighting condition and he knew just by looking at Lock a man would need every bit of strength to survive a clash with him.

“How about now?” Lock extended an arm toward the field recently cleared by the mother and son.

Valor and Lock strode to the center, their gazes locked. Both men were close in height with broad shoulders, powerful arms and long, muscular legs.

“This shouldn’t take long providing my son remembers not to underestimate the
Knight,” Zimm-Bella observed, her expression rather condescending. While the Nalmites appeared to be a confident lot, Zimm-Bella appeared to take self-assurance to new levels.

“Underestimating Lock would be a mistake,” Sun assured her. Something about the Nalmite woman irritated her.

The fight began. Neither was armed and depended on their hands, feet, elbows and knees for attack and defense. Like the emperor’s soldiers all Knights and Dames trained in empty-handed fighting but Lock had also learned his skills from a family of one-time assassins who lived on a secluded eastern isle. He was one of the Order’s finest warriors.

The Nalmite fought with animal swiftness but Lock met him blow for blow. Several strikes slipped through their defenses, leaving the Nalmite with blood drizzling from his lower lip and the Knight with a large bruise on the side of his face. Mica thought they might end the fight at an impasse until Lock threw a punch a second too slow and Valor caught the Knight’s arm and smashed Lock in the face. Stunned, Lock staggered.

In a swift motion the Nalmite raised him high above his head and hurled him onto his back.

Mica’s hands tightened into fists. Had he actually been hoping the Knight would win? He glanced at Sun and Zimm-Bella. Both women stared at the field, their faces impassive though their eyes betrayed their emotions—Sun a bit anxious, Zimm-Bella slightly gloating.

Mica almost smiled. Something told him the Knight wasn’t ready to give up.

Lock raised himself to his knees, his hands braced on the ground. Valor approached and the Knight’s leg lashed out, sending the Nalmite crashing onto the grass. Both men stood and circled one another again, their fists raised. After another storm of punches Valor managed to grasp Lock and raise the Knight above his head, flinging him several feet. Valor waited for Lock to stand before continuing. Lock kicked at Valor who caught his leg, knocking him off balance. The Knight managed to grab hold of his opponent’s vest and drag him to the ground as he fell. They grappled, their arms and legs tightening in death holds. Though wrestling favored the Nalmite’s superior strength, by the time he’d pinned Lock face down both were panting and drenched in sweat.