Mica (8 page)

“I’m still allowed to defend myself, if I like.”

“Do you?”

Smiling slightly, he said, “I try to avoid such situations.”

“But if you were forced?”

“I’m best at hand-to-hand, though I’m a decent swordsman too.” He wondered if she caught his slightly teasing tone as he tossed her own words back at her. “My favorite weapon is the staff, however.”

Sun moistened her lips, her gaze dropping to his crotch. Mica nearly laughed aloud.
She had a wild side, that was for sure.

“You don’t fool me, you know.” She placed the cup on the table, her gaze fixed on his. “No matter how you play the part of a Holy Man, you still have
his
blood in your veins.”

“I’m my own man, Dame Sun.” Mica refused to allow his anger to surface. He’d spent too many years trying to redeem himself to allow her or anyone else to convince him it was all for naught. “He no longer commands me. You, however, seem unable to grow beyond your past.”

Sun stood and balled her fists. “If I wasn’t a guest here, I’d belt that putrid expression off your ugly face.”

“Ugly again. I suppose most people look ugly to one so beautiful.”

Her teeth visibly clenched, Sun yanked her robe over her head, picked up her bag and stalked toward the door.

Mica caught up to her and grasped her arm. She spun, knocking his hand away.

“Touch me again and I’ll break your wrist.”

“It might not be a good idea to try it,” he warned.

“You’re pushing the wrong woman.”

“I tried being nice, so maybe you need to be pushed instead. Violence seems to be the only thing you understand.”

“Just a lesson your father taught me,” she said bitterly.

“I can’t change what he did.”

“Don’t tell me you weren’t just like him. You said you were a general under his command. How many deaths are on your soul, Mica? No matter what you do, you’ll never make up for your past. You know that, don’t you?”

Mica realized the truth of her words but refused to show how they affected him.

“No, I can’t change the past, but it doesn’t mean I need to continue with a destructive future. You came here to kill a man, Dame Sun, and you’re taking it out on me because he’s already dead. Do you want to dig up his body and scatter his bones to the desert?

Will it make you feel better?”

“Maybe.”

“It won’t bring back your village.”

A muscle twitched in her cheek before she continued down the hall.

“Dame Sun.” He strode alongside her. “I understand your anger and your pain, but I also see you’ve chosen a life of service when you could have allowed evil to destroy you instead. You might not have killed my father but you defeated him a long time ago.

Your actions as a Dame define who you are, just as his evil deeds defined him. No one mourns his death. No one remembers him with affection or pride, as one day you will be remembered.”

Sun stopped, swallowing hard and glaring at Mica who blocked her path. “Why are
you saying this?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

“I shouldn’t have bothered coming here. It was a waste of my time.” She shook her head, anger and confusion battling inside her.

“Then make it not a waste. Let me show you the city. You’ll like it.”

Sun touched a hand to her temple. “You are unbelievable. What does it take to insult you?”

“I dare you to find a sword sharp enough to pierce my hide. Would you like to finish this argument over dinner?”

“You are the most annoying man I’ve ever met.”

“I can’t let you leave the city without tasting the food at Marta’s tavern.”

She lifted her chin. “Fine. We should find Blaze. He’ll want to come too.”

“I’ll look for him. Meet me in the great hall in half an hour.”

Sun raised her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head. “The food better be good enough for me to suffer through the company.”

Mica laughed. “I suppose it would be too much for the Goddess to have given you grace as well as beauty.”

“Spoken by a man who has neither.” Sun shoved by him. “Out of my way.”

Mica stepped aside, watching her go. Why was he bothering? He couldn’t be so lustful that he’d put up with such a horrible attitude. A goat’s shitting ass was preferable to this woman’s manner, but he
liked
her. She had spirit, and Mica sensed she could be as loyal and kind as she was hateful. He’d never known anyone quite like her, and she intrigued him.

Mica realized her bitterness was justified and he might never reach her, but he was willing to try.

* * * * *

Sun stalked to her room, fuming. Never had she met a more infuriating man than Mica. What enraged her most was that the longer she was with him, the better she liked him.

While she still wanted revenge, the idea of killing him no longer appealed to her.

She prayed her change of heart wasn’t due to his handsome face and body that made her wet just looking at it. No. She would not trade her vengeance for a tumble in the hay with this monster-in-disguise.

Wait.

Sun’s anger faded to something completely uncharacteristic of her—cold calculation. There were worse things than death, especially to a man seeking redemption. His priestly ambitions demanded he forsake pleasures—in particular carnal ones. Sun had taken similar vows, yet she’d already broken them numerous
times, searching for the sexual joy that had been denied her when those Kennian pigs ruined her innocence as well as her life. She’d learned the art of using her sexuality as a weapon—one that could be aimed directly at Mica’s heart, if he truly had one. Luring him into bed would be easy. The way he looked at her indicated that he was teetering on the edge of denying his religion for sexual pleasures. He might think he was strong enough to change, but Sun would prove otherwise. Then she could sail away, laughing, because no man could reach her soul, particularly Mica of Ademene.

In her room, she dressed in fresh trousers and her leather vest. Rather than braiding her hair, she left the long, honey-blonde tresses loose. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she thought she looked pretty good.

Downstairs in the great hall, she found the Knight and Priest in Waiting admiring a picture in colored tile on one vast wall.

Blaze’s back was to her, but Mica’s gaze fixed on hers.

He smiled and said, “It seems you and I will be going to Marta’s tavern alone.”

“What?” Sun glanced at Blaze who shrugged, his blue eyes wide.

“I’m tired, Brightest Star. I’ve an appointment with my bed. When I was younger perhaps I could play all night, but—”

“You’re not that old. If you don’t go, I don’t go.”

“But I sent word to Marta already. She’s preparing her finest meal,” Mica said.

“Well I’m sorry for Marta.”

“Brightest Star, rudeness doesn’t become you.”

“So you’ve told me for years.” Sun’s pulse raced. What a fool she was. If she planned to seduce Mica, what better way to do it than an evening entirely alone with him? She forced a smile and took a step closer to the Priest in Waiting. “Blaze is right.

Forgive my rudeness. I am very much looking forward to seeing the city with you.”

Blaze’s jaw dropped but no words came out. Mica raised a sleek, dark eyebrow.

“Dame Sun?”

“You feel well?” Blaze touched a hand to Sun’s forehead. She stepped back and cast him an irritated look, which he ignored.

“I
can
be nice, you know.” She took Mica’s arm. Her nipples tingled at the sensation of his hard biceps beneath her palm.

Mica tossed her a toothy, adorable grin that she wanted to hate. “I’m sure you can, Dame Sun.”

“Enjoy the food,” Blaze murmured, still looking bewildered at her sudden change of manner. He placed a hand on Mica’s shoulder. “Luck to you.”

“Thank you.”

“What do you mean luck?” Sun demanded, but Blaze merely walked out of the hall, talking to himself, or more likely the spirits.

“Unusual man,” Mica said, “but a good one, I think.”
“There is no better man than Blaze. I don’t think he has a vicious bone in his body.”

“It must be nice to have retained such purity when the world can be so brutal.”

Mica looked thoughtful. Even Sun remained silent, considering the truth of his words.

Blaze’s life hadn’t been easy. As a child, his family had thought him insane and kept him hidden away with madmen. Sir Mahir, leader of the Ruby Order, had stumbled upon Blaze by chance and convinced his family to allow the boy to live with the Ruby Order. After years of careful work, Blaze had learned to express himself and convey what he saw of the spirit world. Since then, he’d been devoted to the Order, though he disliked killing in battle, as Knights and Dames were often forced to do. His love of peace had given birth to the Green Sash Faction—healers and weaponless warriors. Sun knew she could never live up to Blaze’s moral character. Her temper was far too quick.

“Shall we go, Dame Sun?” Mica extended his arm toward the double doors leading out of the palace.

Sun shrugged and left the great hall, Mica close behind her.
Chapter Four
The dark, narrow streets were rather unsettling, so different from the open fields of home, and Sun found herself on the alert as they walked down twisting alleyways. The throb of drums and the sweet music of flutes drifted from behind closed doors and through windows. Glancing to her left, Sun noticed two young girls on a doorstep painting each other’s faces. A dog picked through scraps outside an inn and through the window, Sun watched men and women laughing and drinking.

“The Well of the Goddess.” Mica pointed to a well of pink and tan rocks in the center of four streets. “It’s the oldest well in the city. And there, the emperor’s coach builder’s shop.”

Sun stared at the rows of coaches standing in front of a long, narrow building. Mica continued down the street, Sun close behind. The sound of soft chanting echoed around them, growing louder as they neared a temple. Again Sun glanced in a half-open window but this time she stopped, fascinated by what she saw. Mica joined her.

Everything in this city seemed more colorful than in her homeland. Several people dressed in blue, green and lavender robes danced around a low wooden table in the middle of the tile floor. The chanting and dancing increased in speed until the robes were a swirl of color then the dancers stopped and knelt. A tall figure dressed in white robes stood by the table. A slender figure joined him, carrying a small, round table covered with white silk. It was then Sun noticed iron shackles on each corner of the larger table. Chanting resumed as five more figures, four dressed in red leading one in white, ascended a staircase and approached the table. The figure in white stopped while the others undressed him. Beneath the robes he was naked, except for a cloth tied loosely around his waist.

In spite of the half-naked man’s stoic expression his hands trembled at his sides. He lay on the table while the four red-robed figures locked his wrists and ankles into the shackles. The chanting was almost deafening now and Sun finally understood the reason for the noise. The silk was lifted from the small table, revealing an array of gleaming silver instruments similar to the ones Knights and Dames used while stitching wounds or performing surgery. Sun almost dove through the window when the tallest figure chose a blade and approached the man who was tied down.

Before Sun could lunge inside to prevent the attack Mica grasped her arms.

She struggled. “They’re going to kill him.”

“No. It’s a sacred ritual. You cannot interfere.”

“But—”

But it was too late. Sun detected the sound of agonized screaming above the chanting. She stared in horror, watching the robed figures completing the castration.
“Are they insane? Let me go.” Her teeth clenched, she tugged hard against his hold.

Mica’s grip loosened. He swallowed hard, seemingly unable to look away from the spectacle inside. “They’re not insane, Dame Sun. He’s just endured the initiation. He’s now a Priest.”

Stunned, she couldn’t speak for several seconds. Finally she asked, “What?”

Mica tugged her away from the temple. “That was not meant for our eyes. Such a ritual is private.”

“What kind of religion demands that a man be mutilated?” Of all the places she’d traveled, she had never known any religion to demand such a horrible act.

“No one demands. He volunteers to give up part of himself to become more like the Goddess.”

“By having his balls cut off? What kind of a sick, barbaric—”

“Sick and barbaric is when children used to be recruited and made into eunuchs without choice,” Mica explained patiently. “Now the religion states a man must be fully grown and wish to offer such an important part of himself to the Goddess.”

Sun’s eyes widened. “You’re a Priest in Waiting. You’re going to allow yourself to be castrated?”

Mica drew a deep breath. “It is my decision.”

“You
are
crazy.” Sun tossed up her hands.

“Shall we go, Dame Sun? Or has this business affected your appetite?”

“I’m accustomed to such things.” She held his gaze. “Except, of course, the people I’ve ministered to haven’t willingly harmed themselves. This is absolute madness.”

“It’s an offering to our Goddess.”

Sun shook her head, her gut twisted with fury and disgust. No man who looked at her like he did could possibly want to lose his virility.

Casting a look over her shoulder at the temple, Sun followed Mica down the street.

After several turns they approached the door of a tall, narrow building. The scent of spices and incense wafted through the dozens of windows riddling the white walls.

Strains of flute and drum music drifted from inside. Sun tilted her head upward, noting several people seated around tables on the rooftop.

Mica pointed to symbols painted in black just above the doorway. “House of Marta.”

Sun followed him inside. Low tables, a lantern in the middle of each, filled the room. People sat on pillows around the tables, enjoying a variety of foods—thick, golden slices of bread, soup, fruit, goat cheese, chicken and nuts.

To Sun’s right a narrow staircase wound its way to the upper floors. An arched entrance across the room led to the kitchen where Sun noticed men and women chopping, stirring and cooking while servants carried orders in and out.