The Underground Witch (Incenaga Trilogy) (18 page)

P
leased with himself, he sat a little taller in the saddle. He would allow the Incenaga to clean herself up and get comfortable before her life of servitude began. His good fortune had been great thus far and he figured he could afford to allow her time to be pampered before he demanded she shine her eyes. She would be dressed in Griet’s finest, adorned with jewels befitting her great power. He would request she be bathed in perfumed oils and lavished with rich creams. It was the least he could do. She would be putty in his hands once her basic needs of comfort were met. Just like every other woman, she’d be begging for a way to thank him for his wonderful treatment of her.

The Incenaga
noticed him looking at her and scowled. He chuckled, unaffected by her foul mood. Any woman would be bothered by such heat. Pulling on the reins, he directed his horse near hers.

“You are not accustomed to such long journeys,
Incenaga,” Tiergan said. “We are very near. You can wipe that scowl from your face and show me your pretty smile.”

“I’ll never smile for you.”

“Such strong words coming from someone so small. You must forget the life you have left behind and embrace the life to come.”

“I will choos
e how and what to embrace. I do not need you telling me what to think or feel.”

Tiergan shifted in his saddle. She had spirit, that was sure, and he hadn’t decided whether or not an Incenaga needed it to function. If only Demyan had not killed the Dolmertian so soon.
There were still so many questions left unanswered.

The Incenaga
nudged her horse away from him, but Tiergan was not finished with her yet.

“
I assume you have come to the realization that you will never be able to return to Dolmerti. As long as the Crown Prince of Dolmerti is alive, I will have something to hold over your pretty little head.”

“Yes, you remind me every day.”

“Should you ever try to escape, Incenaga – although I don’t see why you’ll want to once you experience the luxuries Griet has to offer – nonetheless, should you try to escape, it should be known that I’ll send Demyan to kill your prince before I ever send out a search party for you. He’ll be dead before you make it very far. I can assure you of that. I assume you’ve seen Demyan’s work?”

The Incenaga
glanced at Demyan and then slumped in her saddle.

“L
et’s not talk of such things now, we are nearing Griet. I wish to not be tainted by your foul mood.”

“
And I wish to be set free and allowed to return to my home. But we don’t always get what we want.”

Tiergan smiled in spite of himself
. No one else dared speak to him such a way. Everyone always groveled and squeaked their responses. While her disrespect infuriated him, he enjoyed sparring with her.

“As a woman of privilege,
Incenaga, you must always get what you want.”

“A tree may be taller
than the plants beneath it, but that does not mean it is entitled to all the light from the sun, or the rain from the sky.”

Tiergan sat a little taller.
“It has the right a tree of any size and importance deserves. It takes what it wants and leaves the waste for the weaker plants below. If they can’t survive on limited resources, they do not deserve to live.”

The Incenaga frowned.
“The purpose of the tree is to serve and protect the smaller plants. It filters direct light so the harsh summer sun does not scorch tender saplings. It diverts heavy rainwater to protect young foliage. Nature’s design is not for the plants to serve the tree. It is the tree who must serve and protect.”

Tiergan gripped his reigns tighter.
“What do you know of trees, or the privileges of royalty? You are but a babe in your role as princess. I understand that until you dug your nails into the Dolmerti Crown Prince you were nothing more than a farmer’s daughter. Your father relinquished his crown! Fool! Time will teach you that you must take what you want. Trust me. It is the only way to stand on top.”

“I have no wish to stand on top of anyone.”

“But your people serve you, I presume.”

“I do not force anyone to serve me, nor do I abuse their kindness.”

“You are as weak as the King himself.
I saw the way your servants carried on about the palace, singing and humming to themselves. Nonsense! Dolmerti will crumble before the year is through. Servants are selfish in nature; their love for you will not be enough to keep them happy. The time will come when they will want more and they will not hesitate to overthrow your precious Crown Prince.”

The Incenaga’s eyes narrowed
. “The King and Crown Prince of Dolmerti serve their people first and themselves second. They may be royalty, but they do not demand or expect to get everything they want, nor do they ask more from their people than is reasonable. They understand their lives of privilege come with a duty to serve and protect.”

Tiergan turned his nose up.
“In Griet my life of privilege means I always get what I want. I always have. Nothing stands in my way. Anything else would breed weakness on my part and rebellion among my people.”

“How fortunate you are
, to be dimwitted enough believe that.”

Before he could check his anger,
Tiergan’s hand flew into the air and lashed toward the Incenaga’s cheek. How dare she insult him!
The Incenaga turned her head and at the last second, he stayed his hand.

“Do not dare speak to
me in such a way,” he said through his teeth. “Where I come from, women are put into their places quickly, but not without pain. Does your feeble mind understand what that means?”

“Oh
yes, my feeble mind understands very well. You come from a land of barbarians and self-righteous buffoons.”

Tiergan’s nostrils flared.
The Incenaga kept her steady gaze on his, her eyes narrowing into slits. He wanted to beat the incorrigible woman into the ground, make her treat him as he deserved. But he had already decided to try to soften her first, and found himself more determined to win her over. As the most powerful woman in the world, she might even make a powerful queen.

But a
part of him hoped she would remain difficult so he would get his chance to beat her. It would feel so good to wipe the smirk off her face.

“
You are putting me in a foul mood,” he said, deciding it would be best to leave her alone for now. She was a woman made irritable from travel, nothing more.

Tiergan trotted away and watched the landscape pass.
The flat deserts leading to Griet supported prickly bushes and shriveled cacti. Nothing more. The black sand, on the other hand, sparkled like a star filled night. Little specks of sand caught the sun and twinkled against the blackened earth.

The
sailors and a filthy boy followed behind on foot with a handful of soldiers pushing them along. By mid-day they fell behind, but Tiergan paid them no mind. If they didn’t make it, they didn’t make it. But by late evening they had found their way into the camp, dirty and swollen with heat. He was so disgusted by the sight of them that he almost had Demyan dispose of them. But, he had to have something to feed the coyotes should a pack bother the camp. After all, a well-fed coyote meant a quiet coyote, and Tiergan valued his sleep.

At dusk the
tents were pitched and gypsy women joined them from the desert, coaxing his tired soldiers into dances around the fires. The Incenaga kept to her tent that night, just as she had every other night before. He often heard her laughter trickle through the door flaps. The boy kept her company and Tiergan allowed it, although he couldn’t understand her desire to be around such an unpleasant smell.

On
the final day of mind-numbing travel, the beautiful silhouette of Griet came into view. The tall structures rounded at the top and came to a point in the center, just as he remembered. The grandest of all structures, his castle, stood in the middle. With its towering spires glistening with gold, it shined like a beacon in the desert sun. It seemed fitting that it cast a shadow over most of the surrounding buildings. No one should have as much as light as him.

The
city appeared larger than he remembered, perhaps because he had just come from the pathetic villages of Dolmerti. Griet spread herself between two large hills. A shallow valley teemed with buildings packed so close together that from a distance it appeared nothing could travel between them. Newer, grander homes sprawled into the foothills, but none were higher than the smallest tower of Tiergan’s castle.

T
he roar of the crowd caressed Tiergan’s ego before he caught sight of them. At first they sounded like a low hum melding into the dreary sounds of the desert, but as he drew nearer, it rolled into a frenzy of mixed voices. Some were female, most were men, and all were eager to see Tiergan and his men return.

Tiergan
pointed to the sailors. “Send them through the East Gate. Demyan will take care of them.” Now that they were clear of the desert, he had no need of them anymore.

The Incenaga
’s voice rose up like a screeching donkey. “No! No! No!” Her horse galloped toward him until she pulled the reins at just the right moment and came to a halt by his side.

“What is the meaning of
this?” Tiergan yelled. His face flooded with heat at her blatant lack of respect. No one ever dared interrupt him or disagree. And in front of his people? He examined her posture on the horse and noted that, unlike the previous three days, she sat with confidence and ease. She had played him the entire time. Her riding skills were apparent and it irritated him that she had dragged their journey out at least two more days than necessary so that she could enjoy an easy ride.

“What of the boy?”
the Incenaga said with a hoarse voice. The leather collar pulled on her neck, but her bound hands could do nothing to stop it. “You do not intend to make him follow the others with Demyan, do you?”

Tiergan’s v
eins bulged from his neck. “It is none of your concern what happens to the boy or what I choose to do with my servants.”

“None of my concern?”
the Incenaga said with an iciness that would have chilled any man lesser than himself. “I can’t stand by and allow you to send him to his death. He can be my servant.”

Tiergan’s hands twitched at his sides.
“You will learn your place,” he said, enunciating each word, “or you will learn the consequences.”

He drew his sword and
sent it slicing through the air toward the nearest person. The Incenaga gasped.

“Please,” she begged
. “Don’t send the boy with Demyan.”

Tiergan laughed a
t her show of emotion, a dangerous weakness, he thought. He turned toward the city again, the veins in his neck having relaxed, and the heat in his face dissipating. He smiled at his people and raised a hand in the air as he entered the city.

“Tiergan!”
the Incenaga cried.

Tiergan ignored her. His people had planned a proper welcoming and he intended to enjoy it.
Colorful banners hung from windows and flags waved in a sea of color. Fabrics of bright orange, crimson red, and cobalt blue swirled through the air and disappeared into the brightly clad crowd. Small children perched on their father’s shoulders, each with a smile on their faces and a flag in their hands.

“He has her!”
the crowd chanted. “He has the Incenaga! He has her!”

Emmeline watched Tiergan with disgust. She refused to follow him and let Demyan lead O’fin to an unknown fate. Already the sailors had broken away from the rest of their caravan and O’fin’s little face looked back on her, his eyes round with fear. She had vowed to do all she could to protect him and she wouldn’t let Tiergan bully her into giving up.

E
mmeline put a heel to her horse and started toward O’fin. But in her haste, she kicked too hard and the horse jolted forward, knocking her off balance. Before she could steady herself, she tumbled off the saddle sideways and gagged against the leather tightening around her throat. Desperate to catch her footing, she kicked at the ground, but her feet slid underneath her as the horse bolted forward. She couldn’t breathe and her head filled with pressure as the blood flow cut off. Just when she thought her neck would snap, she felt a sharp tug on her back and found herself flipping in the air, landing stomach first onto the saddle horn. She scrambled for the reins and pulled back sharply.

Demyan rode along side of her, his expression unchanged despite
having just thrown her body five feet into the air while remaining on his mount. She didn’t even want to think about how he’d managed it.

“Turn back, Emm
eline,” Demyan said with a calm yet commanding voice. “I’ll take good care of the sailors.”

“You mea
n you’ll kill them,” Emmeline said as she righted herself on the saddle.

Demyan paused. “We have no
more use for them anymore.”