Milady’s Wiles             by: Brandy Dewinter, with the invaluable assistance of P.J. Wright

 

Chapter 20 - Who’s Whose?

Our expedition arrived back at the castle without further incident. We had known from the Chamberlain’s reports that the new irrigation pro-ject was proceeding well, but it was appropriate to show those involved that they had our interest as well as our funding. After a brief visit with much head nodding and ‘hmmming’ we escaped back to our familiar abode.

Lyonidas helped me from my horse and we were walking together toward our wing of the castle when I realized I had forgotten a scarf in a bag on my saddle. Elgion had made some excuse about looking after his own tack and Julia had offered to make sure the stablemen took care of our other belongings.

"I must go back," I said with a hardly ladylike grump.

The question in his eyes was both invitation and request to explain, so I said briefly, "I left something with my horse. I’ll see you in-side."

"What is it? I’ll go get it," he offered gallantly.

"No, that’s all right. I left a scarf and I know where it is on my saddle. Truly, it will take me less time to fetch it than to explain where I put it."

He nodded acquiescence and gave me a quick kiss to send me on my way, a kiss that threatened not to be quick just as soon as his lips began to warm mine. Or perhaps, as soon as they began to caress mine, for he found my own lips to be hot and eager for his touch. I was about to remind him of our deeper intimacy from the night before when a servant stumbled upon us. Her giggle as she backed around the corner she had rounded to find us was sufficient distraction to bring Lyonidas, at least, back into the mundane world. He lifted his head which put it out of my reach. My whimper of need was not enough to recapture the mood, and in another instant our embrace was ended as well.

"Are you sure you don’t want me to accompany you?" he chuckled.

"Hmmm?" I responded dreamily, still not really back in the world of servants and obligations.

Then I did rouse and shook myself to recover my senses. I smiled to make sure he knew I was joking, and answered, "Milord Regent, you can go anywhere you wish in Achaiea, but if you accompany me on this errand, neither of us may make it to our balcony to see the sunset."

"Would that be so bad?" he grinned.

"Perhaps," I smiled back, enough heat in my gaze to bring a most gratifying flush to his own neck, "but sometimes being bad can be very, very good."

"Ah, hmm," now it was his turn to be incoherent. I used the excuse of his discomfiture to cover my exit, only a light-hearted giggle lin-gering behind as I moved back toward the stables.

I was almost whistling as I made my way back to my horse alone. My saddle was already hung on its rack and I quickly retrieved the abandoned scarf. I was about to turn back toward the main keep when I heard Julia’s silvery giggle carol forth from a nearby stall.

The partitions between the stalls were more-or-less solidly closed but the wood had warped and shrunk enough that there were places to see through while still providing the illusion of privacy. I put my eye to one of the gaps to see Elgion leaning near, almost looming over Julia who had her back to the far wall of the stall they were in. Elgion’s back was toward me but I could see from the expression on Julia’s face that she didn’t feel threatened.

Quite the opposite.

"So, Milord Count, did you enjoy your filly today?"

He had propped himself with one hand in his lean against the parti-tion, but he used the free one to lightly rub his cheek where Julia had earlier slapped him.

"For the most part," he answered, and though I could not see his face, the grin was apparent in his tone.

"She is rather slender, but shapely nonetheless," he continued.

"Do you prefer a larger filly?" asked Julia, crossing her arms under her bosom in a way that drew attention to her feminine bounty.

"No, for a filly, the size is perfect," that damn grin was still in his voice.

"What size do you think is right for a horse, then?"

"Milady Fair, my horse is of a size that would spread you quite wide if you were to try and ride it."

I nearly fell where I stood at his crude comment, but Julia did not even have the grace to blush! She laughed instead, with a sort of throatiness to her giggle that made it clear she had picked up on the crudity.

"Sir, I am a lady. I ride . . . sidesaddle."

"Lady, I am open minded. I am willing to . . . experiment."

This was just too much! Julia was to flirt with the man, not wallow in filth like a rutting hog. I was just about to move around the edge of the partition and confront them, when Julia danced lightly out from under his arm and ran her own fingers through her hair, as though brushing non-existent straw from the copper mass. It certainly called attention to her fiery glory.

"Milord Count, I think you are too forward." Now she played the coquette.

"Milady, I think you raise a fire in the blood to match your hair," he replied, moving once again to stand close to her.

He ran his hand through her hair and I saw as I had so often seen from much closer range that it had the same effect on Julia that it had on me; to draw her eyes closed as though there were some linkage hidden behind the flowing tresses. In another heartbeat his lips were caressing those soft full lips that I had once known so well myself. And in barely another instant I could tell that they were sharing a more intimate caress as well as their mouths opened to allow the dance of tongues.

God forgive me for my feelings. I had just moments before been ready to enjoy the same intimacy with Lyonidas, yet when I saw Julia share that closeness with Elgion I was insane with jealousy! And even more damning, I was hot with arousal! If jealousy alone had motivated me, I would have stormed in on them though it cost me my kingdom. But I knew my excitement was more vulgar than even that deadly sin of jealousy and I could not go forward when I was myself so improper in my emotions.

The raging conflicts within me took my breath away and I was panting with a need for air that made my constricted waist once again more than a mere nuisance. As I struggled to get myself under control, my darling betrothed and the crude man that held her broke their kiss to try and catch their own breath.

"Milady Julia, when will you allow me to claim you publicly? If you can kiss me like that, I know that you find me not too objec-tionable."

"Not too objectionable," she murmured, "but too new. I have barely met you."

"You know that our custom of bestowing earrings is not the same as your betrothal. Wear my earrings as a sign that you are willing to get to know me better," he urged her.

"And what do the earrings signify about your willingness?" she asked.

"Why, the same thing. They signify that I am willing to get to know you better," claimed the intruder.

"I have heard they are not the same, that the earrings declare that I will not consider others beside you while no such restriction applies to you."

He had at least the refinement to admit this. "True, but I promise not to bestow them on any other Achaiean maidens. Besides, Cherysse wears the rings of Lyonidas."

"You are not Lyonidas," snorted Julia.

"And you are not Cherysse," Elgion replied just as dismissively.

This brought a fire to Julia’s eyes where Elgion’s crudity had sparked only amusement.

"So I suppose you would prefer the princess to me?"

"Well," he mused, "she is the princess."

That earned him another slap, resounding in the echoing compartment. He caught her hand on the rebound. Though his strength imprisoned her as fully as manacles from the dungeon, his voice rang out with laughter.

"Oh, Milady Fire, do you think I would prefer that pale and bland weakness to your lively strength? I would not have her even if my sword-brother made no claim of his own."

This was worse than his crudity! I’d show him pale and weak. I had assassinated Strane without hesitation. Well, without hesitation at the critical moment. I could do the same to this arrogant interloper!

Then my anger turned to despair as he pulled Julia by her captured wrists into yet another kiss, one impossibly more passionate than before. By her response I could see that Julia had no anger of her own at his slur toward me. Or, at least, if there were anger in there it was buried so deeply that it had no meaning except as one more source of energy to flow between them. He moved his hands around her waist, taking her cap-tured hands with his own so that her arms were pulled back as though she were bound in truth and not just in passion. He bent her back, pulling her arms to force her soft curves to mold themselves to his hard body, but she was far from protesting at this force. Her lips sought his as eagerly as they had ever sought mine and I remembered that she had said she enjoyed surrendering to a powerful man almost as much as she enjoyed gentleness.

It was too much. It would have done me no good to spy on them longer, for my eyes filled with tears. My heart pounded in my breast with panic beyond words, beyond thought except to flee. I ran from the stables, sobbing, saved only by the grace of God from making enough noise to awaken an army, though even that might not have been enough to intrude into their transported world.

It is said that God will not provide trials that are more than one can bear and it must be so, for if I had been forced to explain my panic I would have been unable. Instead, I reached my rooms without other witness, taking refuge finally in the comfort of Wraith, who waited for me with her usual patience. I swept her up into my arms, my small strength only powerful to one so tiny and wept until her fur was soaked with my tears.

That evening I was the one who missed the sunset observation, and dinner as well. So it was not until the next morning when I reached the bathing chamber that I learned the news that confirmed my fears.

"My dear Cherysse, you are going to have to learn to accept this, at least for the time being," Mother said as she worked to release me from my steel lover.

"Oh, it’s not so bad any more, but I do enjoy being let free for at least a little while," I answered.

Mother stopped her unlacing, "I was not speaking of the maiden’s lover. I was speaking of Julia."

"Julia?" I asked, but it was not Mother that answered.

"Yes, Cherysse?" Julia herself answered as she entered the chamber. And with her entry I saw what others must have thought was the cause of my dismay. Julia now wore earrings of her own, or of Elgion’s.

I closed my eyes for a long moment, not so much in denial as in a need to turn inward for strength in the face of this disaster. When I opened them again, Julia’s eyes showed pain that was almost more dis-tressing to me than my own despair.

"I’m sorry, Julia," I whispered. "I don’t want to stand between you and your happiness. Please forgive me if I can’t find the pleasure in your gift that I owe you for the love that we had."

"Had?" she asked, now more pained than ever.

"You have accepted Elgion’s rings," I stated the obvious, wondering why she was surprised at my releasing her from any claims I might have once imagined.

"And you wear those of Lyonidas. These mean no more to me than yours mean to you," she claimed.

And what did my earrings from Lyonidas mean to me? Did they require that I not love Julia, that I not dream of a day when the claim they represented would be nullified by the overthrow of our invaders? And if not for me then why should Julia be less focused on the goal than I was?

"What do they mean to you?" I asked, a tiny bit of hope growing through a crack in the wall of my despair.

Julia must have seen the hope in my eyes for she laughed and wrapped her arms around me. "Why, they are pretty baubles meant to adorn a maiden like any other jewelry. I think we’ll start a style with these."

Before I had a chance to reply, Mother interjected her own comment and though there was a tone more ominous than frivolous in her voice, it did not really dampen the mood.

"Yes, Julia, we may do just that. Those women of Achaiea who had a part to play in freeing our land deserve some recognition. I think ear-rings such as you wear will honor both of you for the part you played and make a further statement that we are already claimed by our land; no interlopers’ baubles can take that away."

"Yes," Julia and I answered together, catching the fierceness in Queen Selay’s tone and making it our own.

I know that I should have tried to sustain that fierceness, that sense of purpose in every waking moment, but Julia’s bright energy and my overwhelming relief turned my mind to joy often in the next few weeks. She spent most of her time with Elgion, but we managed a few evenings together when one or the other would ask for help in some dainty project of no interest to the men. We didn’t get much done on our projects those evenings, but neither of us were worried about that.

What we were worried about, more so as the spring progressed, was the coming visit from Kragdle. The critical passes were closer to High Canyon than to Stalwart Guard so he would be on his way before we knew it was possible. Yet, not too much sooner, for messengers made the trip perhaps once a week.

We had some warning then, enough to be ready when Kragdle’s entou-rage reached our gates. He announced himself to our guards, as was their custom, and was admitted immediately. However, it was late in the night and only our Chamberlain represented us, along with Lyonidas and Elgion. All other members of the Achaiean nobility made use of the excuse of sleep though Mother and I actually watched from a darkened room as Krag-dle accepted the greetings of his regent.

"Hello, Father. I am glad you were able to make it without another night on the journey."

We had to strain our ears to hear the breathless voice of Kragdle, but as before it carried strangely well.

"Indeed? Your clothes would seem to indicate you were surprised by our arrival. Why are you not wearing proper attire?"

"Why Father, these clothes are quite practical and more comfortable than those we wear in High Canyon. I think you will like them when you try them. Perhaps more than Achaiean metal working, these will someday benefit High Canyon."

"Someday," Kragdle sneered. "There has been precious little benefit so far."

But he dismounted with his words and allowed himself to be led into the keep. His last words were to the Chamberlain. "I intend to hold a court in the morning. Inform the Achaiean nobility that all those who reside in the castle are expected to attend."

I thought with those parting words that Mother would allow us to get what sleep we could in the remainder of the night but she had me follow her back to her rooms where Julia and Duchess Amity already waited. No explanations were offered. Queen Selay just motioned me to my accustomed stool and gathered Greyshadow in her arms to await whatever was expected.

Our wait was not long. In moments there was a knock at our door and Hugh ushered in Queen Giselle of High Canyon. My first impression was that her clothes were a feminine version of the shapeless tan garb of High Canyon men, though in a deep, rich brown almost in another spectrum from the drab tan we had seen before. Then as she moved toward us I realized I could tell that she was slender despite her attire, more robe than dress, that seemed to be so concealing. This contradiction was due to the wonderful softness of the knitted robe she wore, all flowing fullness of sleeve and long skirt. Yet when she moved the wonderfully soft fabric molded for an instant at a time to her still-shapely form, promising more than revealing for a most interesting effect.

She was a tall woman, taller than Queen Selay. Yet one could see the resemblance in their features, dominated by the clear blue eyes that I knew were also part of me. Unlike Mother and I, Queen Giselle had richly black hair, shining in the candlelight so brightly it looked streaked with white inappropriate for her apparent age. That impression of discordant color was false though, for the highlights danced with her motion from place to place in her captive cape of midnight.

We all stood and were introduced. She merely nodded until she came to me, "So you are the Princess Cherysse. From the dispatches written by Lyonidas, I would have expected one who was surrounded by a chorus of angels."

I blushed at her remark and bowed my head. She lifted it with a gesture reminiscent of Lyonidas and smiled at me.

"Don’t worry girl. I know your true nature and I approve of your masquerade. I am not unaware of the sacrifice you have made to recover your kingdom. The pain that Lyonidas will feel when your union is shown to be impossible is merely his sacrifice to achieve a better goal than he might otherwise recognize."

"Thank you, Majesty," I answered quietly. She nodded once again, abruptly, then turned to Queen Selay.

"Cousin, has the time come, do you think, to reveal my own share of our secret?"

Mother nodded, waving her arm in invitation to another seat provided specifically for our visitor. Queen Giselle looked at Hugh, then back to Mother with a question in her eyes, but nodded acceptance and sat down when Mother made no motion to exclude him.

"I suppose you are wondering why I am willing to help you against my husband. It is because he is my husband in name only. We are joined as a symbol of the alliance with Vidalia, my homeland and that of your own Queen. Kragdle has never shared my bed."

"Then who is Lyonidas’ father?" I blurted, then dropped my head in shame at my tactless outburst.

"That is a secret I will retain a while longer. It is enough that Kragdle has acknowledged Lyonidas as his heir. Most people think that Kragdle’s emaciation is due to the privations of his youth. In fact, it is the result of a disease that he contracted in some brothel or another. The disease has left him unable to father a child. He knew this when we were wed and a part of my duties was to provide him with an heir. In a surprising bit of tact, or perhaps of willful blindness, Kragdle has never required that I reveal the father. I expect it was self-serving as are all of Kragdle’s actions. If Lyonidas knew his true father, he might be moved to ally with that man against Kragdle."

"Suffice it for now to say that I have been waiting since before you were born for the day when Lyonidas, my true son, would be ready to rule. On that day, I will support him over Kragdle without hesitation."

"I believe that day is nigh," she concluded.

Queen Selay asked, "What do you know of Kragdle’s plans?"

"Not much," replied Giselle. "I do know that he intends some sort of confrontation tomorrow at the gathering he has called."

"Confrontation with whom?"

"That I do not know. With you, certainly, since you are the symbol of Achaiea, but it may be that he intends more. What do you think Lyoni-das will do?"

Giselle had asked Mother, but Mother turned to me for the answer.

"I don’t know," I admitted. "He has changed in many ways since he came to Achaiea and I would like to think he has found something of value here. But whether that value is enough for him to stand against Kragdle depends on the focus of the confrontation."

"Indeed," Giselle nodded, accepting my judgment. "However, we must do something soon, whether the result of Kragdle’s plans or our own. He will not allow me to continue to influence Lyonidas and if he finds too much of your influence in him, my son will be recalled to High Canyon. I cannot allow that, regardless of the cost."

"What will you do?" I asked quietly.

"Whatever is necessary to stop Kragdle," she vowed. "Even if it means that I must kill him with my bare hands!"

Duchess Amity offered a caution from her own experience, "That would not be easy. Even when we drugged Reynal I could not have overpowered him alone, not enough to kill him. It was all I could do to hold him until Amy arrived."

Giselle said nothing. Her determination was clear on her face, but determination in the face of superior force might not be enough.

"Have you no weapons?" I asked.

She snorted, "Kragdle would never trust me with weapons. His guards are under orders not to allow me access to any. They know where you keep your own, or at least where your men keep theirs since women of Achaiea do not usually arm themselves."

"Not usually," I mused. Then I remembered at least one weapon that was no longer considered within the Achaiean inventory.

Julia must have thought of it at the same time for her head came up and her eyes met mine. She stood and with a nod to Queen Selay went to the array of memorials from royal funerals. There she found the dagger she had once taken from Tamor’s body to use in her thwarted attempt to join him in death.

Julia walked back to Queen Giselle and handed her the dagger, "This was once Tamor’s. It is considered buried with him and no matter how good Kragdle’s spies are they will not know about this."

Giselle accepted the dagger, leaving the sheath with Julia. After a moment to check the balance, showing that she knew enough about weapons to make effective use of this one, she made it disappear somewhere inside her billowing sleeves.

"If Kragdle survives this confrontation of his and remains in power, I will use this on him tomorrow night," she promised.

"Is there anything more we can do to prepare?" asked Queen Selay, bringing our late night conspiracy to a close.

No one had any further ideas so we dispersed to get what rest we could in the small portion of night remaining. The next day would be as important to the future of Achaiea as had been the day I became Cherysse, and it was a measure of our success that we had been able to bring about such significance within a year of the defeat of our army. Still, our weapons were subtle while Kragdle owned those of brutality and force. Would our guile and influence be enough to counter his arms?

 

(continued in Part 21)

 

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Milady's Wiles © 1998 by Brandy Dewinter. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.