Chapter 7 #3
cot and pulled his blade from beneath his pillow. He stood and
stepped to the side of the door’s open top half, his blade hand at
the ready as the stall gate clicked shut. The straw rustled beneath
Z’s hooves and Aleksi flung the bottom half of the door open,
knocking it into somebody’s legs with a thud and a loud
oomph.
“Who are you?” Aleksi demanded as he held the
point of his blade to the intruder’s throat. He had had his fill of
uninvited visitors to his private chambers, and was in no mood for
any more surprises, although at least this visitor was a man by the
height and breadth of his hooded and robed figure. “What are you
doing here?”
A large hand reached up and pushed the hood
back, revealing a shoulder-length mane of thick, silvered hair and
a pair of piercing amber eyes.
“King Asad.” Aleksi dipped his head in
deference and sheathed his blade.
The king indicated the open door to Aleksi’s
cramped quarters. “May I?”
Aleksi stood aside to let the king enter. He
scooped up Kiska from the cot as the king took in the small but
tidy room, and pulled out the stool to sit on. Aleksi sat back down
on the cot with the disgruntled Kiska on his lap and waited for the
king to speak.
“I have come about my daughter,” the king
said.
Aleksi’s tongue went instantly dry in his
mouth.
“I have come to ask you to watch over her
during the race.”
Aleksi swallowed and nodded. “Of course,” he
said. “I give you my word, King Asad, no harm will come to her that
I can prevent.”
“Thank you, Aleksandr. I knew I could depend
on you for this.”
“You did? Why?”
A keen, piercing gaze held his. “You have
made your dislike of the Wolf clear,” he stated plainly, “and your
interest in my daughter even more so.”
“In truth, I despise the lying, conniving
worm of a prince,” Aleksi told him. “I proposed marriage to your
daughter. She turned me down.”
“Yes.” The corners of the king’s mouth
twitched up. “I know.”
Aleksi cocked his head, unaware that his
proposal was common knowledge.
“Sahar told her mother, who told me.”
“Does the princess know you are asking me to
do this?”
“No,” the king answered, confirming Aleksi’s
suspicion. “I would prefer she never find out, for my sake as well
as yours. I love my daughter, and I have great pride and assurance
in her ability to ride in this race, to win it even, if it remains
a race fairly run.”
“But you do not trust the Wolf to keep it
fair?”
The king shook his head. “I was willing to
give him the chance to prove himself otherwise, but my history with
his family and the prince’s own actions have shown him to be his
parents’ son in all ways. I do not trust him, plain and simple, and
especially not where it concerns my daughter.”
“Especially not after tonight,” Aleksi
said.
“What happened tonight?”
“Princess Sahar punched the Wolf in the face
after it was proven he injured my kitten.” Aleksi pointed to the
sleeping, splinted Kiska. “In front of Munir, Ratter, and
myself.”
The king chuckled. “That sounds like my
daughter.”
“After it happened, Ratter said the Wolf’s
father tried to rape and kill the queen, and that you stopped him
and beat him to a bloody pulp.”
“I would have killed the pollution of a man,”
the king said with a still seething rage, “if not for Oona. It was
she who stopped me, for fear of starting a war between the
tribes.”
“The Wolf truly is like his father then,”
Aleksi said. “He gave us all a thinly veiled threat, saying that
wars had started over lesser insults to a prince such as his
exalted self.”
The king growled low. “You can be sure the
Wolf will never let such an insult go unanswered.” He fixed a
serious gaze on Aleksi. “If I could prevent my daughter from
competing in this last race, I would, but I cannot, not without
crushing her fiery spirit.” He gave Aleksi a wry grin. “Then she
would no longer be Sahar.”
“No,” Aleksi agreed. “She would be a caged
tigress, and I for one would never wish that for her.”
The king cocked his head and the briefest of
smiles crossed his face. “So, you will do it?” You will watch over
Sahar during the race?”
“I will.” For as long as she needs me.
“Good. I am glad. Munir will be watching out
for her as well, but if I am right, you and your golden stallion
will be more likely to keep up with her and Lasair than Munir. If,
in keeping Sahar safe, you are caused to lose the race, I will
compensate you the winning purse of one hundred gold pieces.”
Aleksi’s first inclination was to turn down
the king’s offer of payment, for the truth was he would protect
Sahar against Yago no matter what. But Aleksi’s practical side
asked why he shouldn’t accept payment for his services. Wasn’t that
why he’d come here, to earn enough coin to start a new and better
life, and to show his father and his royal relatives that he was a
self- made man?
“Throw in my choice of a broodmare from your
stables, at a fair price of course,” he said, “and you have a
bargain.”
“I tell you what,” the king said. “When the
race is over, I will trade you almost any broodmare from my stables
for one of yours.”
Aleksi clasped the king’s forearm. “I have a
sturdy little dun steppe mare named Zenya that is yours,” he told
the king. “What she lacks in stature she makes up for in
stamina.”
The king shook Aleksi’s forearm once. “Deal,”
he said. He let go of Aleksi’s forearm and laid a hand on his
shoulder. “I met your father, King Maksimillian, about nine years
ago, at the Autumn Festival here,” he said. “He bragged to me then
about you, about how strong and true you were in mind and body. I’m
glad to find he was not exaggerating.”
“Nine years ago?” Nine years ago, Aleksi had
already been relegated to a stable boy. “Are you sure he was not
speaking of Vladimir, his legitimate son and heir?”
The king squeezed his shoulder. “I’m quite
sure. I was sorry to hear of your father’s illness.”
Illness?
“I’m sure, as your sister says, he will
recover fully.”
“I’m sure he will.”