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

 

Chapter 22 - A New Sun Rises

I never knew if Kragdle’s collapse made any sound, nor whether it triggered sound within the chamber. My own heart was pounding so fran-tically that the pressure echoed in my ears like constant thunder, drowning out all competition.

Yet I needed no sounds to see the blood dripping from my prince. The spot on his side had grown to where my spread fingers would not span it and his other wounds trailed fingers of bright red down his wrists to his hands. Even as Kragdle’s shapeless clothes settled around his lifeless body, I was flying down the steps to my Lyonidas.

I had a scarf that went immediately to his side, wadded to absorb that wide-spreading stain. My accursed corset prevented me from reaching the hem of my gown, let alone the petticoats beneath so my next motion was to rip a sleeve from my dress. I tried to bind this around one of his arms, but with little success. My hands were shaking, and my fingers were clumsy, and my eyes were filling, and my breath would not meet my needs though I was gasping in desperate sobs, and . . .

A large hand caught my fumbling fingers and my prince’s soft voice said, "Cherysse, be at peace. It is all right."

"But you’re bleeding!" I cried.

"It’s all right," he repeated.

"But . . ."

This time he silenced me with proof of his health far beyond any words of reassurance. His arm surrounded my narrow waist with strength I remembered from so many gentler occasions and he lifted me to my toes to meet his descending lips. My own were his for the taking, any time, any place, and I clung to him hungrily. I felt a hardness between us that spoke of his power and his confidence even more convincingly than his kiss, but that sensation faded away in an enveloping darkness that left me only the lifeline of his lips. My panic had once again left me unable to sustain the breath needed when I was swept away by Lyonidas’ embrace, but once again I surrendered gladly to the loss.

Or I would have, except a tight voice interrupted, Queen Giselle’s voice. "Ahem . . Lyonidas, Princess Cherysse, we need to talk."

That voice pulled me back from the so-sweet precipice of oblivion even as Lyonidas lifted his head from mine. With that distraction, Lyonidas displayed a thoughtful look for a moment then let me go from his embrace, though not without a final, possessive squeeze.

He bent to the body of Kragdle and withdrew Tamor’s dagger. With that same strange solemnity he had displayed at Drayson’s death, he wiped the dagger on Kragdle’s clothes and then presented it to Queen Giselle.

"I can’t tell you how much it eased my mind when I saw that you had this with you and were ready to use it if I distracted him," Lyonidas said.

"Would you really have killed me to get at him?" asked Giselle, quietly, with more calm than I could have shown.

"No, but I would not have let him escape, either. I might not have been able to stop him from killing you himself," Lyonidas admitted.

Giselle’s face showed fierce pride as she said, "Good! You need that strength to rule. Remember the duty shown by the men of Achaiea after they lost the battle, and remember also that High Canyon demands no less of her people."

Lyonidas just nodded, but I could see . . . not a settling in his shoulders, more a stiffening as though he had taken a weight upon himself but not let it diminish him. It reminded me of the feel of the crown of Achaiea when I had worn it so long ago. The weight was impossibly heavy, yet strengthening at the same time. No one who has not held that respon-sibility can ever truly explain it, but I knew in ways deeper than words what Lyonidas was feeling.

Next, he wiped his own sword in a similar manner. In later years I would come to understand that this was a sign of an honorable duel, where the blood is left with the loser and the winner’s blade is housed clean and unblemished. It was a sign of honor to Queen Giselle to have her dagger ceremoniously cleaned, though she had indeed stabbed from secrecy. Yet Kragdle’s treachery had been even greater. Lyonidas judged and acquitted her of any wrongdoing with his gesture. His own honor was never in question and his own blade deserved similar cleansing.

This took only moments. When Lyonidas turned from his duty his attention was next focused on the High Canyon men who still wore tan cloaks, "Are there any others who would challenge me?"

His tone was quiet but firm with a more regal attitude than he had displayed on the first time we had met. He had matured in his year in Achaiea. Now he was confident in his own prowess, both as fighter and as leader, yet he showed none of the sense of arrogance that had so characterized Kragdle. The men, his men now, bowed their heads in incon-gruous unison as they submitted to his authority. The men from High Canyon who wore Achaiean styles had already declared their loyalty but Lyonidas next turned to them and rendered them a flashy salute with his sword. He had no sheath, though so at the end he held his sword out to Elgion and looked once more to his mother.

Queen Giselle looked at my mother and requested, "Queen Selay, would you grant me the favor of an audience with you, Lyonidas, and, um, Princess Cherysse?"

Queen Selay nodded, then offered, "Perhaps the palace healers should attend to Prince Lyonidas. And Cherysse will need another dress. That one seems to have been as involved in the fight as the clothes you wear yourself. Shall we say, one hour? In my rooms?"

The principals nodded and I found myself escorted by Julia toward my own rooms. It was only as we walked quietly along that my saturated mind absorbed the destruction of my own gown. Where I had not torn it, blood had ruined the beautiful fabric just as thoroughly. It made me sad in a sort of helpless way, as though my life were being overturned once again, perhaps back to its original form. The new prospect did not fill me with the longing it had once commanded. The gown had signified the beginning of my masquerade. What did the destruction of the gown sig-nify?

I knew that particular gown would always command a special place in my heart, but we soon found another that suited my coloring. The dresses had all once been Mother’s of course, and we were much the same in appearance. Still, it took some little time to complete the change, giving Julia and me time for a discussion on our relationship, one that was as hostage to the new situation as any other.

"What will you do now?" she began.

"I don’t know. Lyonidas might still feel he has a claim on Achaiea," I replied.

Her eyes widened with this consideration that she had overlooked.

"What will you do if he refuses to leave?" she gasped.

"I don’t know that either. Achaiea must be free. Else, all this will have been for naught. Oh, Julia, I have murdered a man, and ar-ranged the death of two more. How can I let it all be wasted?"

"Would you bring Lynoidas down as well?"

I could not answer for a long moment. Which was answer enough, in some respects. Finally I looked into her shining green eyes and said, "My love, when I am not near Lyonidas, my path seems clear. Certainly my love for you is paramount. Yet when he is near, I know I would sur-render everything we have worked for with no more reward than the favor of his smile. I do not know what I will do if he will not free Achaiea."

Those emerald gems, the most beautiful eyes in all the world, held only sympathy as she wrapped her slender arms around my narrow waist. This was not an embrace of passion, though we had shared so many of those the memory came sweetly to my mind. It was love, and support, and accep-tance, and a host of messages made more pure and certain by the very lack of words used to convey them.

My faithful Minah, who had entered the room silently sometime while we were talking, finally interrupted us with a gentle sound.

"Highness, we need to finish your dressing if you are to be on time."

With her help and Julia’s I was soon back to my once-unimaginable feminine beauty. They escorted me to Queen Selay’s chambers but turned away at the door from the meeting with so limited an invitation.

I knocked and was admitted by Mother herself, even her ubiquitous Amy for once excused.

"Oh, good, Cherysse, I’m glad you’re here first. We need to decide what we will do if Lyonidas refuses to abdicate his regency."

I only nodded, since I had no better idea of what to do than when Julia and I had considered the problem. Queen Selay though, had an answer.

"If he does not abdicate willingly, then you must use the white-cold mind on him."

"Me?" I gasped in dismay.

"Yes, you," she adamantly replied. "Lyonidas cares for you and that will give you the access to his mind it will take to sway it to our ends."

"I cannot," I whispered, lowering my head.

"You have no choice," Queen Selay replied. "If he determines to maintain power in Achaiea, perhaps even taking you for his queen, then we will all be undone. He could not accept the public acknowledgment of his attraction to a man. Yet the secret can not be maintained for-ever, not from him, not from your ‘husband’."

Dear God, what a quandary. I knew I had the power to do it. I

could turn his mind to my ends so thoroughly that we need never doubt his intentions. Yet the very link that would grant me that power would reflect back into my soul with unending shame at such a betrayal. Once upon a time I had considered it shameful to dress as a woman, to hide behind a woman’s skirts from my destruction. The salve of duty had made it barely palatable at the time. Yet now I found the mannerisms of a woman merely ordinary, while the thought of betraying Lyonidas made any previous shame seem like the false intensity of a child’s emotions over trivialities.

Before I could find a way to respond to Mother’s declaration, her door once again resounded with a request for entrance. I was still too shocked to move so Mother opened it herself to admit Lyonidas and Queen Giselle.

I knew with a part of my awareness that Lyonidas was attempting to meet my eyes to convey some message, but I could not look at him. In-stead, I took my seat with lowered head, ashamed of even considering a course of action that seemed so unworthy. My form seemed to drift toward my seat with an unconscious grace as the others took their own, my mind too far away even to direct the borrowed motions of my body.

Mother nodded to Queen Giselle without words and the High Canyon monarch began to explain the reason she had asked for the audience. Her words though, were for Lyonidas rather than for Queen Selay or myself.

"My son, I had not expected Kragdle to reveal your parentage today, or at least his lack of a place within it. I am sorry for not trusting you with the knowledge, but I suppose I had become so accustomed to the deceit that I was blind to the opportunity that finally came to correct it."

There was unusual bitterness in his tones when he replied, "It would appear though, that you were not so reluctant to tell others."

She nodded with acceptance of this additional iniquity but continued before that could become the focus of discussion, "It seemed necessary, just as when you were growing up it was necessary to conceal the truth from you so that Kragdle could assume you would not betray him."

"And so I ended up killing him," Lyonidas snorted, unconvinced.

"No, actually I ended up killing him," Giselle replied, "and in fact that was my plan. I would have had you believe you were his son, you and all of High Canyon, and did not want his death to be on your conscience."

"Now that at least some part of the truth has come out, you need to know the rest of it. You need to know who your real father was."

"Was?" he interrupted.

"Yes, your father is dead. Before I tell you his name I need to explain something of the circumstances of your parentage. Kragdle was unable to father children due to a disease contracted as a youth. His marriage to me was an alliance of convenience, nothing more. A part of that alliance was an understanding that I would bear him an heir from a sire that would provide a strong, tall son."

Now her eyes turned to Queen Selay as she continued, though her words were still for Lyonidas, "I met your father at a trade conference attended by Kragdle before he started on his path of conquest. He was a tall man, strong and wide-shouldered. But more, he was a kind man, honorable and modest with women. I wanted these characteristics for you as much as Kragdle wanted size."

Then her words became focused on Mother in some way that was not a matter of posture or tone, yet was unmistakable. "I used every bit of power at my disposal to convince him to share my bed. Every bit. There was a willingness there of course. I needed something to build upon in his desire. But that willingness would never have been his master if I had not enhanced it."

"What do you mean, ‘enhanced it’?" Lyonidas demanded. For some reason he had not picked up on the change in Giselle’s focus though it seemed obvious to me.

She looked back quickly at her son and answered, "Women have ways to stir men’s hearts that are not easy to explain."

Now Lyonidas looked at me and his acceptance of the truth of this non-answer from Giselle was written on his face. His acceptance of the truth of Giselle’s statement was based on his experience with me, which was wrong both in content, since I had not used the white-cold mind on him, and in a more basic way that still needed to be resolved. Clearly, Giselle was explaining that she had used the white-cold mind to seduce Lyonidas’ father, though only Mother and I recognized her reference.

Queen Giselle looked back to Mother, which drew my eyes as well. I was surprised to see Mother sagging a bit in her seat as though a burden had been placed on her. Why was she so distressed?

And then it came to me so powerfully that I was lifted from my seat by the impact of the truth.

"Andros was your father," I blurted out.

"King Andros was my father?" Lyonidas repeated in confusion, to receive a nod of confirmation from Giselle.

Then another implication struck me and I quietly added, "As he was MY father."

At this, Lyonidas’ face tried to display so many emotions that it failed at any. Yet I didn’t need clear portrayals to understand the message, since I knew many of the same were marching across my own face. Surprise, of course, but also embarrassment, and shame, and a fair amount of guilt.

In my own case the guilt was many degrees higher than he need feel, but my shame increased even further when I recognized within myself relief as well.

Giselle provided a last bit of explanation in order to fill the void hanging in the conversation as we tried to absorb this information. "When I saw you kiss after the duel I knew that I needed to reveal your true father. You and Cherysse are siblings and your love for each other must be transformed from the path you have been following."

Now there was an understatement, though the prohibition on siblings becoming intimate was no less stringent than the one of those whose gender matched. Of the second consideration, Lyonidas remained ignorant. The first alone though, was enough to require a major revision to any plans he might have had for his reign.

He slumped in his seat with shock, a condition I felt only too com-pelled to match as I sat once again on my own stool. Our mothers let us consider the situation in silence for a few moments before bringing us back into the world outside our own minds.

It was Queen Selay who finally spoke, "Lyonidas, what do you think would happen if Achaiea and High Canyon were truly to merge?"

"What? What do you mean?" he stammered in reply.

"Consider your clothes, consider the way the men from High Canyon who have been here for a while acted today. What would become of High Canyon if our cultures were fully intermingled?"

He thought for another few moments within his own mind but the implications were obvious to me as soon as Mother pointed them out.

"In a few years, perhaps a generation, High Canyon would no longer exist," he finally stated, slowly as the truth became undeniable.

"Is this what you want?" now Queen Giselle asked.

"No!" he answered instantly, then again after a moment, "No. Our heritage is honorable and if we lose the strength that we have in favor of the luxuries available from Achaiea, then that heritage will be lost. Probably to Katmanistan, possibly to Verdantland, certainly within that generation I allowed."

Queen Giselle nodded, "I think you are wise. It was the need to wait until you developed this wisdom that held my hand from Kragdle’s throat all these years since I learned the true nature of his black heart."

"Then what is to become of our two nations?" he asked.

I answered, recognizing at the last instant that part of my answer lay in the way I could address him, "King Lyonidas, would you consider an alliance with Achaiea, rather than conquest?"

He started at my address, but squared his wide shoulders and sat a little straighter as he realized he was going to have to make decisions on his own, not ask for others to take the responsibility.

"Yes, an alliance would be a good idea," he smiled. "We could gain access to those aspects of Achaiean culture that truly benefited us while retaining our own identities."

His acceptance of his new role in High Canyon, a monarch with re-sponsibilities for his whole people, seemed to be an anchor that let him gather in the reins on his out-of-control emotions. And with that control he could release a bit of humor without surrendering to it.

"Perhaps, Sister, you might negotiate the alliance until the day comes when you find a King for Achaiea?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye I had not seen for a very long time.

I smiled in return, though it took all the wiles I had ever learned to maintain the secret that made his statement so incorrect.

"My prince, there will never be any man in my life but you. Still, if you are serious about an honorable alliance, that will become a prob-lem for Achaiea to solve."

He nodded, accepting the distance between us that was appropriate for the new world we found ourselves within. As though that were a sign, Queen Giselle made one more request of him.

"Lyonidas, my dear, would you allow me some time along with Queen Selay and the Princess?"

He nodded politely, and let himself out. As he left his glance caught my eye, promising further converse, but he left with only bows in my direction and that of Queen Selay.

When I turned back to look at Queen Giselle, her eyes were troubled but resolute. "Princess Cherysse, I have a great favor to ask of you, one that is unfair and not necessarily in your best interest, but which is vital to Lyonidas."

I looked attentively, but warily. Already the common cause we had shared against Kragdle was falling before interest focused on our sepa-rate nations.

"Now that it is known that Kragdle was not, in truth, Lyonidas’ father, there will be those in High Canyon who would dispute the succes-sion. My own prestige will be degraded as well, of course. If it became known that Lyonidas had been attracted to a man, however attired, it might become impossible for him to rule. I must ask you to continue your masquerade for some time longer, at least until he consolidates his own power. I know this is not just, but for him it is simply necessary. Will you do this?"

"For how long?" I asked.

"I do not know, exactly, but I think it will be at least until the next winter makes travel difficult. Lyonidas will spend the time until then establishing himself with all of his vassals. I will try to get word to you before the winter snows, but I am really asking you to maintain your current appearance until I notify you that it is unne-cessary."

Why did my heart leap at this request? It was as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, not another added. It would mean I would continue to dress in encumbering gowns, no matter how beautiful, and continue to behave in a demure, quiet manner. It would mean that I would be expected to continue my studies and my art rather than learn to handle a sword. It would mean that any annoyance I displayed would be excused as being due to the cycle of women rather than caused by true shortcomings in others. Yet all of these problems seemed like the most wonderful prizes to me, once out of my grasp, then loaned to me for so short a time, and now offered for a time that might stretch out beyond my limits of worry.

I could feel a smile on my face even before I attempted to answer the High Canyon dowager Queen. I merely nodded and it was not until after I made this commitment that I remembered my betrothed.

"Julia!" I gasped.

Mother’s face had betrayed pleasure of her own when I had accepted the request from Queen Giselle and it did not diminish when this problem was recognized.

"Oh, I think we can handle that problem," she assured me. "It will be some time before you are expected to produce an heir of your own. In the meantime I think you may have to remain chaste, but that is not an insurmountable obstacle."

"Not for you, maybe," I grumped, but I knew I could survive my steel captor, however much the device sometimes pained me.

Queen Giselle was not entirely sure what we were talking about but it was clear even to her that the problems I had alluded to were within our power to address. She stood and nodded to Mother.

"With your permission, Cousin, I think I will rest for a while before supper. It has been a trying day."

Queen nodded and stood herself. We escorted the High Canyon queen to the door but Mother held me back when I moved to follow her out.

"Are you truly satisfied with this arrangement?" she asked.

I looked into my own heart for a moment before replying, but the answer I found there confirmed what I had already truly known. I liked being Cherysse a great deal more than I had ever liked being Deacon. Perhaps someday I would once again choose to be Deacon, but it would be as the man I would become, not the boy that I knew was still inside me. The mental maturity that had come to me in this past year would allow me to function effectively as a princess, but the physical maturity that had been so lacking a year ago was still not to be found in sufficient measure to take on the role of crown prince, let alone King.

I nodded and received as a reward one of the few embraces that Mother had been able to truly share since her world had become so harsh in the year before. It was a wonderful feeling, alike yet different from those of Lyonidas, or even Julia. That very contrast made me treasure it all the more as I made my way to my balcony to watch the sunset.

And there I found Lyonidas. Neither of us spoke as I walked over to the guarding ledge. For a while we shared the companionable silence that I had come so much to enjoy, but as the mountains began to hide a sliver of the sun Lyonidas moved closer and caressed my hair once more.

I leaned into his touch, still feeling the stirrings that had been impressed upon me as a means of survival, but which had become an avenue for such pleasure instead. Yet even as I felt those stirrings I felt a new balance within myself. The knowledge that Lyonidas was my brother added to the part of me that had always been Deacon and kept me from being consumed by the sensuality of his touch.

He must have felt the same, for instead of insinuating his fingers deeper into my waves of gold, he pulled back and just put his arm around my shoulders.

"Well, Sister, we have had a day that I will not soon forget."

"Nor I."

"I think you should give up on your silly focus on me, you know.

You need to find another man," His tone tried to be light, but failed.

"No, my prince," I whispered, "there will never be another man for me."

Yet, with those words I knew that I could use the strange power of my mind to help Lyonidas, treating him more gently than others might have been able to do. I looked into his eyes, gathered the strength of will that was my true birthright and brought him into my mind.

The impression I left was one of peace. I added an acceptance of what we had done, pulling away any guilt he might ever feel when the secret came out as it would inevitably do. He would remember the arti-fice that had sustained my masquerade and recognize that he had not been the only one fooled. Let him blame me, someday, for this greatest of lies but never himself.

In moments I was finished and I could see the effectiveness of my impression by the stiffness that came into his body. Now, though he did not know why he felt differently, he believed that I had never been as close to him, never as desirable as he might have previously thought. That was a necessary residue from the warning about myself that I had placed in his mind. Yet I was content. He would not be harmed by the revelation of my true nature, except perhaps in political ways that I knew were within his capacity to overcome, given a year to prepare.

We stood in silence a while longer until the last sliver of sun disappeared, then turned to descend the stairs together.

Supper that evening was . . . interesting. The recent war, both the visible portion fought by the men and the invisible portion fought by the women, had unbalanced the remaining numbers of men and women among the combined nobility of Achaiea and High Canyon. There were two queens, two princesses, a duchess, and betrothed crown princess (Julia, though only a few of us knew that her position had been renewed by the current true monarch) with only Lyonidas and Elgion to spread among us. Our Chamberlain did as well as he could, placing Lyonidas between Queen Selay and I, with Elgion between the other queen and the other princess.

The other princess was Dierdre. It was clear as soon as we took our places that she was not going to allow rivals for Elgion’s attention. Dierdre clung to him with fierce possessiveness, combining a wary watch-fulness with arrogant disdain in expressions I wouldn’t have tried to match.

Actually, I couldn’t have matched them at that time even if my face had possessed the requisite mobility. It was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud at her struggle. Neither Julia nor I were concerned with Elgion any longer, except as an ally to Lyonidas that we were all glad to have. Yet we needed to maintain the masquerade at least a while longer. Julia had been seated next to me so she alternated quiet, hidden giggles with artificial long distance glares at her nominal rival.

The basic mood of the table was light-hearted, for all that there had been yet another death that day. If the poisoned soul of Kragdle watched over us, I hope it twisted in torment to see how little mourning there was for him. The primary topic at the table was the trip back to High Canyon. This would begin in the morning for Lyonidas and all our erstwhile invaders except those who had been assimilated into the Achaiean guard force. Still, we were not all business. The meal had hardly been concluded when the palace musicians changed once again to festive music.

With smiling dignity, Lyonidas and Elgion rose together and turned to the two queens. Their invitation to dance was politely declined, which offered Lyonidas an easy choice and Elgion a difficult one.

"My princess," Lyonidas smiled to me, "would you dance with me one last time?"

Even as I stood showing consent, my words held smiling denial, "No, my prince, I will not agree that this is the last time we shall dance, only that it is the last night we shall dance until your next visit."

As he escorted me to the floor we both looked at Elgion in his dilemma. It would be more proper for him, as a guest, to invite Julia but it was clear that propriety was not first on Dierdre’s mind. I hoped he would invite the dusky foreigner. It would be most interesting to see what Julia would do. For that matter, it would be interesting to see Dierdre dance. She moved with such fluid grace that it would no doubt be memorable.

Dierdre solved Elgion’s problem for him just as my tall escort and I reached the area cleared for dancing. Even over the music I heard her overloud refusal of an invitation that had not, in fact, been offered.

"Elgion, dear, why don’t you ask that red-haired . . . person while I watch the dance for a while and learn the motions."

If there were some analog for the white-cold mind among those from Katmanistan, it would have been a look of death. The expression on Dierdre’s face would have been sure death with any magic behind it. Luckily for us it was only a look and it bounced of Julia’s bright energy with no effect at all. She accepted Elgion’s delayed invitation as she had done so often before and they were soon demonstrating their own interpretation for the music alongside Lyonidas and I.

My snicker to Lyonidas was just loud enough for Elgion (and Julia) to hear, "I wondered how he would get out of that."

"Actually," Lyonidas replied, "you should see Dierdre dance. She is quite . . . expressive."

"Is that what you call it?" I laughed.

I could see Elgion’s neck redden when Julia whispered something in his ear. I’d have to ask her afterwards what it was.

In a time that seemed entirely too brief we were being escorted back to our seats. I knew it was one of Mother’s "coincidences" that the musicians had not played any of the slower, more intimate pieces while we had danced. I was just as glad, though. An intimate dance with one’s brother is not all that interesting.

While we who had danced took refreshing sips of our wine, Dierdre rose from her seat uninvited and walked to the musicians. After a brief discussion, she moved to the middle of the dance area and the musicians began to play a different tune.

It was unfamiliar to me, not one of Achaiea, nor similar to those of High Canyon that I had learned over the long winter. Yet it was obvious-ly familiar to Dierdre. She began to move to the music in a nearly languorous way, eyes closed, motion subdued and slow. However, her motions didn’t stay subdued for long. Even from the beginning it didn’t look like she was limited by the bones I knew within myself, let alone a corset. In moments, it didn’t look like she was constrained by the pull of the earth, either.

She flew. Her leaps and twirls and arching twists were perfectly timed to a tempo that I could not have matched even with the now absurdly-simple dance steps that had seemed so graceful only moments before. Yet it was not simple energy, nor even physical strength that she displayed. There was a message in her dance, one of unbridled lust; pure, raw, irresistible. For the first time someone other than Julia excited an intimate pain within my armored torment and I didn’t even like this woman!

Elgion was transfixed. I’m not sure he breathed for the length of Dierdre’s dance. Lyonidas was little better. I looked away only because my hidden pain became too distracting. Even Julia looked with envy and appreciation on her supposed rival.

Finally the dance came to a close. It was not a subtle closing. With the last notes, Dierdre approached the head table and leaped up onto it, then over it. The final flourish matched her twirling drop into Elgion’s lap, one hand so perfectly placed it ended up holding the drink he would surely have dropped.

"So, my darling," Dierdre laughed as she wiggled her shapely bottom in Elgion’s lap, "I can tell you liked the dance. Can the red-head match it?"

Julia just laughed, standing to applaud with the rest of us. It was a good excuse to retire in honorable defeat, but it was good that she had that excuse. If her goal had been the lusty Elgion, complete with his strength and silver-tongued flattery, she was lost. Yet, even as Dierdre received her well-deserved cheers, I felt Julia’s hand slip into mine and squeeze it. Mine was just as quick to return the pressure. Dierdre was matchlessly sensual but I pitied Elgion trying to live with her for a lifetime.

Of course, there would be times to come in our life together that Julia would do full justice to her red hair and fiery reputation.

It would have been almost sacrilegious to dance after Dierdre’s performance. She and her target disappeared shortly after that anyway. Our High Canyon guests, truly guests now, wanted to get a start no later than dawn in the morning and we said our good-byes that evening.

Queen Giselle came up to Julia and handed her Tamor’s dagger, "Thank you for the loan of your memorial gift. I think Tamor would have approved."

"I’m sure of it, Majesty," Julia replied.

Julia turned to Lyonidas for a quick embrace even as Giselle’s arms went around Mother.

Then Giselle turned to me, and while she held me she whispered, "Thank you for what you’ve done with Lyonidas, and what you continue to do. It is foolish to make vain promises of aid to one who has demonstra-ted great competence already, but you know you have my favor if ever there is need."

"Take care of Lyonidas," I whispered back. "He’s still my brother and I do love him."

Then there were only Lyonidas and I standing there.

He was such a tall man. And his eyes were so deep and rich a color. The part of me that was still Mother would have liked nothing better than getting lost in those eyes for all that he was, indeed, my brother.

His wide spread of arms invited me for an embrace of my own and I went to them gladly. The passion we had once shared was gone, submerged behind cultural prohibitions layered doubly deep for me and reinforced by the white-cold power for him. Yet none of those prohibitions limited the enjoyment of being held by a strong, loving man.

"Do you have a maiden in High Canyon who wears your rings, as Elgion did?" I teased softly while I leaned my head on his chest.

"No. There are no women in the world for me, but you," he claimed.

"Go hunting in Katmanistan," I suggested with a snicker.

He pulled me back and pretended to slap me, but his hand ended up once more in my unbound hair.

"Will you tie this up again, now that I no longer have the power to prohibit you?"

"No, my prince, it is the way you prefer me and so the way I shall remain."

"What of your rings?"

"They are a part of me now, and will remain as well."

His next phrase almost made my knees collapse. For just an instant I thought he had learned of my secret as he used the exact words that had formed my decision to become Cherysse.

"Duty can be a hard taskmistress," he said quietly.

When it became clear that he was talking of his own duty, to return to his own kingdom, my heart started up again.

"Yes, my brother, but we were never meant to be."

He just nodded. Then he dropped his hands but offered me an arm to escort me to my rooms.

Along the way, he made me promise not to come down to the caravan in the morning. They intended to leave as soon as the first rays of the sun reached the valley floor and he didn’t want me to lose sleep to no pur-pose. I agreed of course, but I had no intention of sleeping through the dawn.

That dawn found Mother and me once again watching from a balcony as the first sliver of sun appeared in the east. This time, Julia accom-panied us and there was no fog of tan men to disrupt the beauty of the scene. Her copper tresses seemed to make her a match for Mother’s and my own as the low, red sun tinted our own golden hair into a darker hue. In Julia’s hair, proudly displayed, was a small circle of betrothal pearls, twin to the one in my own blonde mane.

Then as the sun rose further and changed from red toward brighter colors, the difference between us became apparent when her own hair held the memory of morning fire while ours matched the lighter tones achieved by the rising sun.

"I never would have believed that High Canyon would someday leave our land, and without a fight," Julia said quietly.

"Oh, there was a fight," Queen Selay claimed, and I knew that she was right. We had fought with every bit of ability God had granted to us, but our weapons were not those of men.

Yet the wiles of the women of Achaiea were no less effective than the weapons of men. In this case, they had even been more effective. Still, I resolved within myself to pray that we would never again have to use such beautiful weapons as women possessed in such a terrible way.

As the sunlight reached the floor of the valley before us a tall, dark-haired man stepped to our side of the waiting caravan. He lifted his arm in a wave of greeting, and of parting. The noblewomen of Achaiea, of whom I was still a part, returned that greeting with waves of our own. Then, our one-time ruler joined his own people to leave us once again free.

 

Finis

 

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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.