Radiance (Wraith Kings Book 1) (6 page)

CHAPTER TEN

Brishen escorted Ildiko down the long corridor that lead to the throne room.  She held onto his arm, her fingers digging furrows into his skin, even through his vambrace.  It was the only sign of her anxiety, besides her ashen pallor.   She wore a serene expression, and her steps were sure and steady in the hallway’s darkness.

Ildiko had grown quieter the closer they got to Haradis and gone completely silent when they topped the ridge that looked down on the dimly lit city nestled in a small valley ringed by gently rolling hills.  She’d answered his questions with nods or shakes of her head, and every once in a while a short yes or no.  He could smell the fear rolling off her.

“You’re not alone in this, Ildiko,” he reassured her for the dozenth time.  Before their trek to the throne room, she simply nodded.  This time she turned to him, her face wiped clean of expression.

“This is the kingdom of Bast-Haradis, Brishen.  I’m human.  Here, I am alone.”

He halted and she with him.  Brishen gazed at his human wife, touching on the colorful hair and strange eyes, the pale skin with its ever-changing shades that were subject to her moods.  His soldiers’ reactions to her would be nothing compared to those of the Kai court.  Insular for so long, most of the nobility had rarely seen a human.  Those who had, barely remembered.  They’d stare and whisper amongst themselves and do so, so much worse than that.

Brishen wanted to protect her, shield her from the inevitable trial of meeting not only the vipers amongst the court but those who ruled them—his parents.  He was powerless to do so.  She’d have to face them all, one human amongst a people who once considered all her kind food.  But she wouldn’t do it alone.

He reached for her free hand.  “You are also a princess of the blood through marriage, a member of the royal family.  My wife.  Every Kai in that room owes you their allegiance and respect.  I will cut out any tongue that would try and besmirch you, Ildiko.”  He pressed his lips to her palm.

The tiniest crack appeared in her serene composure.  Her mouth twitched with the hint of a smile.  “Or bury an axe blade in their heads?”

His guilt over his inability to rescue her from his own family eased a little at her humor.  “I’m adept with spear and sword as well.  Just name who you want me to skewer for you.”

Ildiko’s smile widened.  “Not the best approach I think to winning supporters.”  She inhaled a long breath before slowly letting it out.  “I can do this, but you must promise not to let go of my hand, even if I’m breaking your fingers.”

Brishen gently pulled her into his embrace.  She felt fragile in his arms—barely more than shadow wrapped around slender bones and clothed in Gauri silks.  “I promise.”

“I will not shame you with my fear, Brishen,” she whispered against his neck.

He sighed into her hair.  “But I might shame you with mine, wife.”  He stroked her back and offered a last bit of advice before they made their introductions to the court.  “They are only serpents, Ildiko.  Crush them beneath your heel.”

He led her the rest of the way to the ornately carved double doors guarded by a pair of soldiers.  The sentinels bowed, their faces as closed and expressionless as Ildiko’s was now.  The doors swung open, revealing a cavernous chamber with tall ceilings, walls decorated in tapestry and weaponry and lined by statues of ancient Kai kings and queens—all lit by wavering torchlight.

Brishen barely registered its grandeur.  He’d grown up in this palace.  The hall had looked like this since before his grandfather was born and probably long before that.  Instead, he focused on the pair of figures watching them from the thrones elevated on a platform reached by a set of nine steps.

The silence greeting him and Ildiko gave way to a rising din of voices, a steady buzzing that grew in volume like the approach of a locust swarm.  There were shocked gasps, comments about the Gauri woman’s terrifying eyes and strange face, expressions of pity for him.

Ildiko might not understand most of what was said, but it didn’t take a fluency in the Kai language to know her appearance was causing a stir.  Like him, she kept her gaze trained on the king and queen.  Her fingers were icicles on his.

“Steady,” he said under his breath.

They stopped at the first step leading to the thrones.  Brishen tugged lightly on Ildiko’s hand and they both genuflected.

Brishen addressed the floor.  “Your Majesties, I am your humble servant.  I present my bride, Ildiko, niece of the king of Gaur, Sangur the Lame.  Now
hercegesé
to me.”

The throne room had grown silent once more, pulsing with anticipation as Brishen and Ildiko waited on their knees.

“You may rise.”  King Djedor’s sepulchral voice echoed throughout the chamber.  His eyes were nearly white with advanced age, and the gray skin hung on his facial bones like sodden garments clipped to strung line.  “I’m told the powers in Belawat tried to have you killed to show their disapproval of this marriage.”

Brishen knew his father well enough to know that as soon as this introduction was concluded, he’d be summoned to his father’s council chamber for a full accounting of the attack.  He shrugged.  “We killed them all but lost three of our own.  Our companions fought bravely.  I carry the mortem light of one.”

Another murmuring buzz passed through the crowd of courtiers lining either side of the throne room.  Brishen had done the family of the fallen soldier a great honor.  The king’s expression didn’t alter at the revelation.  Brishen had expected nothing more.  His father had never expressed either approval or disapproval of his younger son’s actions.  They had no bearing on the throne or line of succession; therefore they were of no importance.

He did turn a curious gaze to Ildiko.  “I remember the first time I saw a human.  A man.  The women are even uglier.”

A titter of laughter passed through the crowd and just as quickly died when Brishen turned to note who laughed.  Ildiko’s fingers twitched in his grasp.

Djedor’s wrinkled lips stretched into a grin, revealing teeth gone as black with age as his eyes had gone white.  Brishen braced his shoulder against Ildiko’s to keep her from lurching backwards.  The king turned to his silent wife.  “What think you of your new daughter, Secmis?”

The queen, beautiful and as youthful as the day she married her husband, stared first at her son and then at her Gauri daughter.  Unlike her husband, she spoke the Common tongue so Ildiko would understand everything she said.  “Welcome to Haradis, Ildiko
Hercegesé.
  I hope you can find your place here.  My son has sacrificed a great deal to marry a human woman and seal our alliance with the Gauri.”

Her lip had curled as she spoke, and though her voice was even, Secmis didn’t bother hiding her contempt for Brishen’s wife.

Brishen fancied he heard Ildiko’s back crack as she stiffened next to him.  She yanked her fingers out of his grasp and advanced to the second step, shoulders back, chin raised in a haughty manner that challenged the queen’s own arrogance.  A collective gasp rose among the watching nobility.

Brishen dropped his hand to his sword pommel.  Gods forbid he’d have to slash his way out of the throne room to prevent his mother from killing his wife, but he’d do so if necessary.  He balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to grab Ildiko and run.

Her own voice was calm, lacking disdain but sure and uncowed.  “What sacrifices would those be, Your Majesty?  I see only a groom returned home with a bride after an admittedly dangerous trip.  He bears no wounds, no scars, and possesses all his limbs.  I haven’t yet had the time to henpeck him to death.”

This time the crowd’s laughter was disguised by splutters and bouts of coughing.  Brishen didn’t know whether to groan or applaud.  Ildiko’s wit would gain her either respect or a writ of execution.

Secmis’s golden eyes narrowed.  “You mock me?”

“No, Your Majesty.  That would be rude.”  Ildiko gave a brief bow.  “I wish merely to understand my husband’s sacrifice.  He will live among his own people.  I cannot bear him children, but the line of succession is secured many times over.  He cannot marry a Kai woman, but if the Kai court is anything like the Gauri court, his union with me won’t prevent him from having a mistress.  Several if he wishes.  If he can’t bear the sight of me, we can talk in the daylight when he doesn’t see so well.  Then I can argue the sacrifice is mine, not his.”

Secmis’s skin, the color of unpolished steel, darkened even more.  Her eyes blazed brighter than all the torches in the throne room combined.  She half rose from her seat, long fingers curled.  Had Ildiko stood in front of her, she would have been disemboweled.

Brishen had partially drawn his sword from its sheath when the king let out a bellowing laugh.  Secmis turned a glare on him hot enough to set his robes alight.  He ignored her and slapped his hand on the arm of his chair.  “She’s ugly, my boy, but fearless too.  You could have done worse.”  He motioned to the doors.  “Get her out of here before your mother orders her beheading.”  He flashed black fangs at Ildiko.  “You’ll manage well enough, Gauri woman.  I look forward to our next meeting.”

The return trek to the doors seemed a thousand miles and as many years away.  Brishen strangled the urge to sprint for safety with Ildiko in his arms and kept them both to a stately walk.  Once the doors closed behind them, they maintained their pace until they were out of sight and earshot of the guards.

Brishen pivoted to stand in front of Ildiko.  Even the ashen color to her skin had bled away, leaving her pale as bleached bone.  Her eyes were wide and black with terror.  She took a step toward him before her knees gave out.  He caught her in his arms and held her close.

“Well done,
Hercegesé
!  You’ve faced down my mother and pleased my father.  Not a Kai in that room will cross you now.”

She shuddered against him, her body as icy as her fingers had been.  He heard the rapid chatter of her teeth before she clenched her jaw and drew steady breaths.  Once she calmed, she leaned far enough away from him to meet his gaze.

“I’ve made an enemy of your mother,” she said in a mournful voice.

“Everyone is Secmis’s enemy, wife.  You’ve just made yourself a worthy one in her eyes.”

“I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

He kissed her forehead.  “No, you’re going to eat.  We still have a formal dinner to suffer through in a few hours.”

“Gods help me,” she muttered.

“You’ll need it,” he cheerfully replied.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

If she disregarded their physical appearances, Ildiko determined that the Kai courtiers were much like the Gauri ones—ambitious, gossip-mongering, and highly skilled at surviving the savage intrigues of court life.

She’d known the moment the doors to the throne room opened and she and Brishen crossed the threshold, they’d pass through a gauntlet of curious hounds eager for the scent of new blood.  Anhuset’s armored breastplate would offer Ildiko no protection on that battleground.

Familiarity with court etiquette and strategy offered some comfort as she knelt at the lowest step before her new husband’s parents.  King Djedor was a man stitched of nightmares, a lich not yet completely rotted to bones.  Brishen’s body against her back had been the only thing that kept her from bolting out of the throne room when the king flashed his black-fanged smile at her.

Her fluency in the Kai speech was adequate enough that she understood a portion of his remarks regarding the ugliness of human women.  His insults had done a fine job of eroding her fear and replacing it with indignation.  That indignation bubbled into a seething anger when Secmis addressed her in the Common tongue.

The queen had stared at her with eyes that gleamed red at the rims and a mouth that curled into a sneer.  She sat on the throne, slender and garbed in a heavily embroidered gown that cascaded over the chair and pooled at her feet.  Her silver hair was coiffed and decorated with jewels that winked dully in the low light.

In her rebuttal of the queen’s comments, Ildiko had been tempted to ask if Secmis might find it more comfortable if she were coiled around her throne instead of perched upon it.  The horrified gasps from the Kai nobles and Brishen’s hand on his sword as she challenged Secmis’s contempt alerted Ildiko that she already antagonized his malevolent mother to a dangerous point without insults to enflame the confrontation.

Only after they’d escaped the throne room had her courage, fueled by anger, deserted her.  Ildiko had collapsed in Brishen’s arm, lightheaded at her recklessness.

He’d held her close, his praise of her bravery the only thing that kept her upright as he led her up a flight of stairs and down two corridors to a door decorated with fanciful strap hinges.  He opened the door, revealing a spacious chamber, lavishly furnished with a large bed, wardrobe, chests and a table and chairs set near a hearth in which a low-burning fire flickered.

Brishen led her to one of the chairs.  Ildiko dropped into it gratefully.  She was truly part of the family now.  Just like the rest, she’d have to sleep with one eye open, in fear of Secmis.

“Do you want a dram of wine?”  Brishen held a goblet in one hand and a pitcher in the other.

“I’ll take two,” she replied and offered a feeble smile at his chuckle.  She took the goblet from him with shaking hands and searched for the right words that wouldn’t excoriate Secmis too badly.  She was Brishen’s parent after all.  “Your mother is...”

“A soulless creature with a thirst for murder and an intellect greater than any other in the kingdom.”  Brishen poured wine for himself in another goblet.  “It makes her a ruler unmatched in both malice and strategy.  My father would have been overthrown decades ago without her by his side.”

Ildiko blinked at him.  Her husband continued to flummox her with his matter-of-fact acceptance of his parents’ less than admirable traits as well as his own good nature.  She could only surmise that like the children of most royal households, he’d been raised by a troop of nannies, tutors and mentors, at least some possessing a compassionate character.

She wanted to ask him more, but talking about the Kai king and queen soured the wine in her stomach.  Instead, she focused on her surroundings.  “Where are we?”

He took the chair next to her.  “Your bedchamber.  At least during your stay here in the palace.  What do you think?”

Distracted by his second remark, Ildiko gave her surroundings no more than a quick glance.  “It’s very nice.  What do you mean my stay in the palace?”  A second knot of apprehension twisted in her gut, taking up residence next to the one slowly unwinding itself from her encounter with Secmis.

It wasn’t at all unusual among the Gauri for noblemen to sequester their wives on distant estates, isolated from court life, while their husbands lived separate existences with a few conjugal visits each year to assure the hereditary line continued.

While Ildiko liked the idea of putting as much distance as possible between herself and Secmis, she didn’t relish a future in which she withered away in some forgotten castle, kept company only by Kai servants as resentful of their exile as she was.

Brishen  brushed her knee with a gray hand.  One black nail caught on the fabric of her skirt, creating a pleat.  “Don’t worry, Ildiko.  I’ll be exiled with you.  I have a house on the far western borders of the kingdom.  We’ll stay here for a few weeks so you can become familiar with the Kai court and then journey home.”

Brishen said “home” in such a voice that he might as well have said “sanctuary” instead.  It was obvious to Ildiko that while he tolerated the Kai court, his heart resided elsewhere.

She recalled a map spread across a table in King Sangur’s study—a cartographical masterpiece of the many kingdoms that shared the great expanse of lands this side of the Apteran Ocean.  She frowned.  “Your estate nestles against Beladine lands.”

He nodded, his yellow eyes flaring brighter for a moment.  “It does.  But I’m not defenseless, and I suspect our human neighbors will either wait before trying another stunt like the one on the trade road or consider another way to foil this alliance.”

Ildiko hoped those neighbors would choose the second option or just accept the reality of trade and alliance between the Kai and the Gauri.  While she’d enjoy self-imposed banishment with Brishen at her side, she didn’t fancy doing so while under siege by the Beladine kingdom.

She finished her wine and rose to set the empty goblet on the table.  “Will Anhuset accompany us?”  She smiled at his nod.  “Good.  I very much like her.”

A knock at the door halted any further conversation.  Brishen bade their visitor enter.  A Kai man dressed in livery, hovered just inside the doorway, shadowed by two women.  All three bowed, and the man spoke.

“Your Highness, His Majesty wishes for you to meet him in the council chamber.”  He said more, but Ildiko’s understanding of the Kai language was not extensive enough to parse out everything.

Brishen nodded and stood.  “Speaking of Belawat, my father will want to know more about the attack on the trade road.”  He reached for her hand and kissed her fingertips, his touch cool and soft on her skin.

The king’s messenger stood to the side so the women behind him could enter the room.  Ildiko rose from her chair to stand by Brishen.  The women were also dressed in the garb of palace servants.  One looked older than the other by a decade, and both were young.  While the elder one tried not to gawk at Ildiko, the younger servant ignored her, her lamplight eyes trained solely on Brishen who returned her stare with a like intensity.

“I’ve seen you in memory,” he said gently in the Common tongue.  “Are you Talumey’s kin?”

The girl’s still features crumpled.  She fell to her knees before Brishen who frowned.  “His sister, Your Highness.  Kirgipa.  Sha-Anhuset sent word of the fallen.  You have honored our family.  That a prince would carry Talumey’s mortem light...”

Brishen interrupted her with a hand on her arm.  “Stand up, Kirgipa.”  He coaxed her to her feet.  His frown had eased but not the sorrow in the downturn of his mouth.  “It would have been a better thing had I returned him to your mother alive and unharmed.  It’s he who honors your family.  He was a good soldier and fought bravely.”

Kirgipa’s chin quivered and Ildiko wondered if the Kai shed tears as humans did when they mourned.  The servant bowed to Brishen and then to her before returning to her place next to the older woman.

Brishen turned to the king’s messenger waiting patiently by the door.  “Send another message to Kirgipa’s mother.  I’ll arrive tomorrow with her son’s mortem light.”  He turned to Ildiko.  “Do you wish to accompany me?  We’d go tonight, but there’s no escaping the celebration feast without unleashing the queen’s wrath on everyone involved in our absence.”

Ildiko gave an involuntary shiver at the thought of Secmis’s retribution.  She glanced at Kirgipa before easing closer to Brishen so only he could hear her.  “Are you certain?  I’m an outlander here, Brishen, and this is Kai business in both flesh and spirit.”

His black eyebrows snapped together in a scowl, surprising Ildiko.  “You are first and foremost of the royal house of Khaskhem.  There is no place barred to you except by the will of Djedor and Secmis.”

Were they alone, she might have smoothed the line bisecting the space between his eyebrows.  Instead, Ildiko limited her touch to a brief caress of his arm.  She didn’t miss the watchful stares of the nearby servants or the looks exchanged between them.

“This isn’t a matter of rank and access, Brishen, but of discretion.  Would a woman mourning the loss of her son welcome a stranger to witness it, especially one who’d draw the attention I will?”

Brishen still scowled, and his eyes glowed a little brighter.  “What would you do in her place?”

She shrugged.  “When I lost my parents, I found no comfort in the sympathies of strangers, but each person is different.  And I am neither Kai nor a mother—two roles in which I have no experience.”

He eyed her for a moment.  “Will you go for my sake?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation.

Obviously pleased with her answer, Brishen bowed and turned back to the messenger.  “Let’s get this over with so I may return to my wife.”  He paused and turned back to Ildiko before stepping into the hallway.  “The chamber next door is mine.  You’re welcome to explore it.”  He winked at her.  “Much to my family’s disgust, I’m a man of few secrets.”

He disappeared into the corridor, closing the door behind him and leaving Ildiko alone with the two Kai women.

The silence grew awkward as Ildiko considered what to say.  “I am still learning your language,” she said.  Both women shifted in place, and Ildiko congratulated herself on learning how to better read her adopted people’s expressions.  She’d definitely seen surprise cross the servants’ features at her uttering Kai words.

“From what I can tell, your Common is better than my bast
-
Kai
,
so why don’t we start with Common, and you can teach me words in your tongue as we converse.”

They nodded in unison, and the three began a stilted dialogue between them as they helped Ildiko unpack some of her trunks and instructed other servants for where to place the tub brought in for a bath.  Ildiko already knew Kirgipa’s name and learned the other woman was Sinhue.

During her journey from Pricid to Haradis, Ildiko had grown used to the stares of the Kai, sometimes curious, other times revolted.  Sinhue’s and Kirgipa’s didn’t bother her, and they would be nothing compared to what she’d face at the welcoming celebration later—where she’d likely feel anything but welcomed.

Except for a few smothered exclamations when Ildiko disrobed and stepped into her bath, the two servants were circumspect, civil and helpful.  Ildiko fancied she even heard a note of approval in Sinhue’s voice when she agreed that wearing Kai garb instead of Gauri to the celebration feast was a good idea.

During her preparations, she heard movement and rustlings next door.  Brishen must have returned from council with his father and, like her, prepared for the upcoming festivities.  He confirmed that assumption when he knocked on her door and entered at her bidding.

No longer dressed in riding leathers and light armor, Brishen had changed into garb even more formal than he’d worn at their wedding in Pricid.

A wide-sleeved tunic with a high collar covered most of a tight fitting shirt and trousers, all in varying shades of black and forest green embroidered silk.  Tiny beads threaded through twin braids were woven into his black hair.  Except for the braids, he wore his hair loose, and it spilled over his shoulders, dark as a crow’s wing.

Being in each other’s constant company during the journey to Haradis had changed the way Ildiko saw him—tempered her perception of his otherness.  His toothy smile still startled her as much as her eyes unnerved him, but she began to understand why Kai women found her husband attractive.

He hadn’t abandoned his martial adornment entirely.  A wide belt of thick leather decorated with brass studs cinched the tunic close to his narrow waist.  Anyone interested in sliding a knife under his ribs would find it a difficult task getting through the leather for a lethal thrust.  The belt sported a large ring sewn to the leather, and from that Brishen had tied his court sword.  It rested against his hip, companion to the daggers tucked into the tops of his boots.  Ildiko guessed he probably bristled with weaponry; these were just the ones she could see.

“Are we going to war or to a feast?” she teased.

“This is Djedor’s court,
hercegesé
,” he said.  “They’re often one and the same.”

While Ildiko knew he teased her in return, his remark sent her stomach into a nervous tumble.  She wasn’t one to partake heavily of wine or ale, but she hoped both ran freely during this meal, otherwise her hands might shake so badly she’d stab herself with her own eating dagger.