Chapter 3
Aleron leaned forward on the desk. “Truly Carissian, she doesn’t look to be much of a threat to me.” He stared at the discoloration around her eyes and frowned. “You are sure my men did not injure her?”
“We found her like this, sire. She was alone.”
He cursed the interest he had in the woman. Would his soldiers not see him as weak for desiring the wench, an enemy of his people? “Are we certain she is a Karthlander?”
“Yes, sire, she’s very much a Karthlander. I would be wary of this one,” Carissian said. “She’s dangerous to you and the realm.”
Aleron took a deep breath, wondering how the woman could be a danger to him. She wore no weapon, had been injured, was of slight build, and…
His gaze shifted to her breasts. “What are these garments she wears?”
Carissian shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“Does she speak?”
“She hides her thoughts from me. I gather bits and pieces, but she veils them in other notions. Still, I feel she’s mystified at her circumstances.” He rubbed his smooth chin. “Something has gone wrong, and she’s not supposed to be here.”
Aleron laughed out loud. “Even I could have figured that out. Why was a female Karthlander caught so close to the palace? Is she a spy?” But her clothes, and the scent of her skin…
provocative, luring, and goddess, yes, the same as the woman from his dreams. Yet the blackness around her eyes had disguised her, confusing him at first. “What is that fragrance she wears?”
He sniffed at her neck. She tensed her posture, making him smile. “Sweeter than neferatu—more powerful than barberessa, but subtler than agathan. I cannot tell what it is.”
Tashama wrinkled her nose at him. Joy, but their primitive people would never be able to produce such a heavenly scent. His breath warmed the sensitive skin of her neck, tantalizing her to distraction. Caress me further, prince of my dreams.
Carissian folded his arms. “Joy, is what she says it is.”
Glaring at Carissian, she attempted to clear her thoughts.
Meddling sorcerer. Her sensitive touch felt the heat from the prince’s body so close to hers.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and enjoyed the spicy scent he wore.
Joy is what I feel when you are close to me.
She looked at Carissian and said, “Not! Begone, oh sorcererly one!”
Again, she tried to hide her feelings from the sorcerer’s probes.
“Joy,” the prince said. “Appropriate.” Glancing down at her turtleneck, a perceptible smile crept across his face.
He looked at her pale blue jeans, then turned back to Carissian.
“She wears the oddest shaped men’s leggings of an indescribable cloth, but then is clothed in a tunic to reveal her feminine stature in bountiful proportion.
If she were trying to disguise herself as a soldier, why would she wear something so revealing as this?
” Aleron waved his hand at her, brushing her nipples with a light touch.
She ground her teeth, fighting the flame that surged through her body with his fleeting touch. Didn’t he know how that simple form of intimacy had weakened her knees and created an ache she craved to have satisfied?
He considered her shoes. “Her feet have little protection, she wore no weapons—I’m to understand, and yet,” he said, then grabbed her arm and studied her torn sleeve, “she has been wounded in battle.”
“I cannot read her thoughts, my lord. They’re confused and scattered.
I see strange signs she voices in her mind—Scarborough Renaissance Faire, Waco, 45 miles, Dungeon Siege.
She feeds me these unreal images of buildings towering into the sky, blocking out the sunlight with their translucent structures.
“Wagons move without the pull of horses, rushing down seamless stone roads. I hear strange beats in a primitive form of rhythm through her ears, perhaps a new sound that leads her into battle. She fights my presence. I’ve never known one of their kind to have that type of ability.”
Aleron caught sight of gold glittering through the torn sleeve of her right arm, then he lifted the cloth, revealing a gold chain hugging her wrist. He fingered the bracelet linked together in golden wedges like the shape of geese in formation, then frowned.
“What metal is this?” He peeled back the sleeve of her left arm, then touched the emerald and diamond-studded gold bracelet on her left wrist and shook his head.
“The metal appears to be the same, except it’s smooth in part and intricately crafted into tiny chains that connect the rest. I’ve never seen anything like it.
” He glanced up at Carissian, who shook his head in response.
“These stones come from our mountains nearby. How could the Karthlanders have stolen our precious gems without having paid the price?” The prince examined the clasp that bound each of the bracelets.
“Have you seen anything as odd as this?”
“No, sire.”
“I want them removed at once.” He walked around Tashama in a narrow circle and turned to his sorcerer. “Why would a woman warrior be wearing such things? Only the nobility is allowed to wear jewelry.”
“I’ve never heard of the Karthlanders resorting to using women warriors, sire.” Carissian examined one of the bracelets. “Perhaps one of our metal workers could determine what the metal is.”
The prince motioned to his sorcerer. “Remove them then.”
“I’m not sure how to remove them. They’re not long enough to slide over her wrist.”
“Remove the chains, prisoner!” the prince demanded.
She complied in the slowest manner she could manage as the two men looked on. I should have taken martial arts like I wanted to, but nooo. I had to work on potions and spells. She sighed deeply. A little Kung Fu and I could have given this better-than-thou prince a little what for.
Twisting her mouth in annoyance, she shook her head inadvertently. Couldn’t do that though, could I? Not befitting the soon-to-be ruler of…
She glanced at Carissian whose eyes slimmed as he studied her. “Ruler of naught…put that in your peace pipe and smoke it, oh sorcerer, reader of minds, discerner of nothing.”
“How did she do it?” the prince asked, when she dropped the first bracelet into his outstretched hand.
Her skin touched his briefly, and the warmth from his touch made her shudder. He was her enemy, and yet, she desired nothing more than to have his lips pressed hard against hers. What spell is it that binds me to you, prince of Maldovia?
“It appears to have some kind of a clasp. Our head jeweler can examine the bracelets and tell us how they’ve done such a thing.”
Aleron shook his head when she dropped the second bracelet into his greedy palm. He pocketed the bracelets into a leather pouch tied to his belt, then touched Tashama’s cheek where dried blood crusted in a streak. His fingers lingered longer than was proper, and Carissian frowned at the gesture.
The prince quickly dropped his hand, then turned to his personal guard. “Acholuria, bring me my sword and yours, too.”
His guard disappeared into the prince’s bedchambers, while Carissian asked, “What do you propose to do, my lord?”
“I’m curious about this warrior woman. Would she fight as well as a man?
I would think not.” He took a deep breath and studied the Karthlander, an enemy of his people.
How could she be a menace to him, Ruler of all Maldovia?
Women were meant to provide a man pleasure, nothing more. How could she be a danger?
Still, Carissian had never been wrong before. She clasped her hands together. She appeared so hardened, so unbending, and yet, there was a sweet softness about her. Did she give this other outward appearance because she feared him?
Acholuria reappeared with swords in hand, and after offering Aleron’s jewel-encrusted sword to him, he waited for further instruction.
“Give her your sword, Acholuria.” Aleron pointed his sword at her chest.
Carissian cleared his throat. “Do you think it wise—”
“Do it!”
The guard handed his ivory-handled sword to Tashama, but when she folded her arms in response, Aleron laughed. “Make her take it!”
Acholuria grabbed Tashama’s arm, but she cried out in pain, and he glanced back at Aleron. The prince rubbed his chin and considered her disheveled appearance. “Perhaps our healer should—”
Carissian shook his head. “The Karthlander’s healer should see to the woman. However, from what I can see, her injuries are negligible.”
The prince nodded and motioned for his guard to get on with the task.
Acholuria shoved the sword into Tashama’s hand.
Aleron readied his sword while he planted his feet apart and raised his free hand slightly in the air.
She frowned at him and dropped the sword on the marble floor with a resounding clatter.
The prince stared at her for a moment, not believing she wouldn’t even try to fight him. “She’s no threat to me.” The prince handed his sword to Acholuria. “If she wishes to presume to be a warrior, house her with the rest of her kind. A woman like that would not be worthy for a prince to bed.”
“Would sending her to the prison camp be wise, my lord?” Carissian considered her appearance. “A woman amongst all those men and dressed as provocatively as she is…”
“She is dangerous—so you say. What else am I to do with her, Carissian?”
“She’ll be even more dangerous to you there, I predict.”
“I would bed the wench if she were a Maldovian.” He folded his arms. “Perhaps she should stay in the tower in case the witch invades my dreams tonight.” He reached over and stroked her jaw with his fingertips.
When she fisted her hand and tried to strike him in the chin, he quickly caught her wrist. “Then she could relieve my anxiety, when the other cannot.” He laughed, released her, and motioned to Carissian. “Take her away to the enemy prison camp.”
Blackness blanketed the region when Tashama rode on horseback to the walled-in tent village, confining over a hundred Karthlander soldiers.
She studied the prisoners sitting about the small campfires scattered about the campsite.
Eerie twisting fingers of light crept into the shadows while the fragrance of burning hickory scented the air.
Oshon motioned to his officer, who, in response, grabbed Tashama’s arm and threw her to the ground. She landed on her backside with a thud and stifled a cry.
“Rot here with the rest of your compatriots,” Oshon scowled, then turned his horse with the other and headed beyond the gates, their horses clip-clopping out of camp. For the first time since her nightmare had begun, she felt truly afraid.
“Balthazar, how could you have forsaken me?” She took a deep breath. She hadn’t remembered the war. He was right in saying she had to lead their people to victory, but…
She shook her head when her thoughts reverted to the palace of Banff. Even now, she could see Aleron’s dark eyes studying hers. What magic was his that he used to hold her hostage?
Tashama pulled her torn sleeves down over her arms, the lacerations now burning in the cool breeze.
She remained seated in the dark, afraid to move from the small comfort she drew from the deep shadows.
She cringed at the sound of the crunching of boots on the graveled path that headed in her direction.
She shivered from the cold when more boots tromped her way, but couldn’t force herself to get up and move away from the menacing sound of their footfalls.