Dark Lord of Kismera: Knights of Kismera (22 page)

Ki laughed and smiled warmly. “Oh Drace, you are a silly man.”

“I believe your word was stupid,” he clarified.

“You, my love, were not supposed to remember that,” she said, coming to sit beside him on the bed.

He took one of her hands in his. “I had a dream about you, all big with our child. It was really beautiful.” He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand, his mind still muddled from his illness. “I wish I’d had that tea the first time. I would have been too sleepy to leave. I almost puked on the both of you before Estelle was finished, so I’ll just be a wimp and take it in the future because that was not cool at all.”

Ki felt confused when he immediately changed the topic. Her brows furrowed together in concentration; she looked at him. “Sometimes I really do not understand the words that come from your mouth.”

“How about, I really need you to kiss me right now?” he asked. He let go of her hand and moved his hand to the back of her head, pulling her down to him.

“Mmmm,” he said when he released her mouth. He held her close for a moment, his mouth next to her ear. “I
am
a stupid man,” he said huskily, “But I try to never repeat a mistake. Am I forgiven?’

“You were forgiven the moment you rode back through those gates. Now, let me go, love. I hear Estelle coming up the stairs with a meal for you.” She rose from the bed as Estelle entered the room. The older women ignored Ki’s swollen mouth.

In a short period of time Estelle had Drace shaved and fed, with a mediated tea for his head. He got himself on his feet and made a trip behind a screen and used the chamber pot. When he returned to the bed, he was shaking and pale, and aggravated that he was so weak. Estelle tucked him in and soon Ki and Drace were alone again.

“Sleepy?” Ki asked him when he yawned.

Drace sneezed twice and lay back, feeling miserable. “I know you have a lot to do, but would you lay with me for awhile?”

Ki smiled. “Of course.” She climbed up on the bed and lay against his shoulder. Drace pulled her closer and rubbed his cheek against her hair. Drace felt pleasantly drowsy. “Estelle put something in that tea to make me sleep didn’t she?”

“Probably. She is worried about her needlework I suppose.”

“Ah. Don’t think I’m up for that just now. Sorry.”

“I believe I can wait.” When there was no reply she raised her head to look at him. He was asleep again, this time a more relaxed, restful sleep. He had been very ill and Ki knew if he had been out in the storm any longer, he would not have made it back.

She smiled in relief and pushed a stray lock of hair off his face, then lay back down and held him safe to her, finally letting the tears come.

Cearan was a natural storyteller and had jumped at the chance to entertain Drace the next day when Ki had finally had enough of Drace’s ill temper. The cold he had caught was in its full glory. Drace had refused anymore medicated teas from Estelle, saying he was tired of sleeping, tired of sitting, just plain tired. Ki had threatened him bodily harm, but opted for escape.

Drace coughed, and then sneezed. “Shit,” he groused. “I’d give almost anything for a pharmacy.” He looked through bloodshot eyes at Cearan. “You can go to one of those, get a decongestant that won’t put you to sleep, shaving supplies, and a candy bar all in one trip.”

Cearan plied him for explanations of the candy bar and shaving soap in a bottle then stopped him. “I am supposed to entertain you. You can educate me on that later.”

Drace leaned back against his pillows. “Tell me about that Zakara. What exactly was that thing?”

“You remember the story of Arahtok and the making of the Werre don’t you?”

Drace nodded.

“Well Arahtok had a brother, the God Zaka. Zaka is the God of the Dark side. Even in your world there is the balance of things; good and evil, dark and light, yes?”

“Yes,” Drace said and leaned forward.

“Zaka was jealous of Arahtok’s people. He decided that Brother Wolf would father his own new people. He went north, to the mountains where the wolf packs live and told them what he wished. They refused. They lived in harmony with the children of Arahtok, knowing the Lion God would not be pleased. Zaka was furious. He threatened the wolf clans. Knowing the risk, they still refused. So, one night, Zaka stole the essence from the male wolves and made, without woman, the Zakara as you saw him.”

Drace sat back, disappointment on his face. “That’s it?”

“Oh no. Arahtok and the wolf clans were very angry. Arahtok cursed the Zakara and his brother. He could not undo this evil deed, but he made it so that Zakara could only mate with Zakara. The wolf clans shunned them and humans shunned them as well. They became mercenary to the few who will deal with them as you saw. Even then they are not well trusted for they will turn on their comrades if it suits. Zakara are not nearly as clever as a true wolf.”

Drace sat thinking, and then something occurred to him. “What did Ki do with that Siken fella?”

Cearan frowned. “He is still locked in a storeroom in the cellar as far as I know. Why?”

“I don’t think he should stay down there forever,” Drace sniffed. “She’s not starving him is she?”

Cearan chuckled. “You will love this. He is only allowed bread and cheese.”

Drace laughed, which made him cough. “What do your people normally do in a case like this?”

Cearan rubbed his chin. “Well, an unjustified attack on another may be punishable by lashes, or even banishment. If it is a savage attack or one on a high-ranking person, such as you, the punishment could even be death. Each crime is judged on its own.”

Drace gave a weak, “Oh.”

Cearan continued, “I am surprised Ki has not had his head removed already.”

Drace found the answer to his question that evening. He came down for the evening meal, but did not let Ki know how shaky he felt once he made it to his chair. He hoped he wouldn’t faint into his plate.

He made it through the meal and ignored the concerned looks Ki kept giving him. At the end of dinner, Ki whispered something to Cearan who rose and left, beckoning to another warrior to follow. A little while later, he and the other warrior returned, flanking a quite disheveled, now bearded, Siken, between them. They forced Siken to his knees in front of Drace.

Drace raised an eyebrow at Ki who stood and addressed Siken. Her voice rang clear in the now quiet hall. “Siken, you are guilty of assault on a high ranking member of the Clan. Do you admit to this?”

Siken hung his head, shamefaced. “Yes, my Lady.”

“Do you have anything to say in your defense?” she asked, glaring at him.

“Only, my Lady—that I deeply regret my actions against Lord MacKinnon. I give myself to his mercy.”

“Then your fate shall be in his hands,” Ki ordered and sat down.

Drace managed to keep his face expressionless while he processed what had just transpired. He sat staring coldly at the top of Siken’s lowered head.

Siken dared a glance up at Drace, and then ducked his head back down. He remained on his knees and by the Dark Lord’s look knew he would not be asked to rise until Drace had decided. Finally, after a long wait, Drace seemed to come to a decision. “I am aware that the penalty of assault such as you committed can be death,” he said in a quiet but clear voice.

Siken raised his head quickly, a shocked expression on his face.

Drace slightly raised his hand. “But I believe I struck you as well, however provoked. Am I right?”

Siken swallowed nervously. “Yes, my Lord, but…,”

Drace cut him off with another lift of his hand. “Be quiet.” Drace felt Ki move restlessly next to him and he stilled her with a quick glance. “This is a time of war, however and we need leading warriors. I have heard that you are a good leader, even if you use poor judgment while under the influence of ale or wine.”

Siken was looking confused. “My Lord?”

“The fact you pulled a weapon when we could have settled this as men is what concerns me.” There was a touch of anger in Drace’s voice that made Siken lower his head once more in shame.

“That, and the insult you placed on my wife. She is my mate, by her choice. The results were known to her and still she chose me.” Drace looked around the hall and his voice rose slightly as evidence of his emotions. “Anyone, who insults her as this man did, insults her or her family,” He looked back at the kneeling man. “I will remove their head myself.”

He saw Siken swallow again. “Twenty lashes to give you something to remember your crime. Once you have received them, you will be allowed to wash and eat. When you are healed enough to work, you will report to the head pig keeper for service to him for two seven days. Is this understood?”

Siken nearly fainted in relief. “Yes, my Lord.”

Drace gave a nod to Cearan who motioned to another warrior standing at the main door. The man disappeared and soon reappeared, carrying a long lashed whip.

Drace stood as Cearan ripped the filthy shirt from Siken’s back. He stood with his back ramrod straight as Cearan delivered the lashes, made no sound until the last one.

As the blows fell on Siken, Ki dared a glance at Drace and saw the bead of sweat that trickled down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. His expression was one of utmost control.

When Cearan stepped back, he motioned to the two waiting guards to remove Siken to the barracks to have his back attended to. The man was not hurt too badly although blood had been drawn and splattered the flagstones, but the pain was enough to temper any more rebellion. The rest of the punishment would hurt Siken’s pride more than the stripes on his back.

Drace sat back down rather heavily in his chair, his expression still controlled. “Would you send Estelle up with some of that tea of hers? I think I’m going to go up now,” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“Do you want me to go up with you?” Ki thought he looked rather pale.

“No. I can throw up by myself,” Drace replied as he stood up again.

Ki watched him leave as Cearan sat in Drace’s chair. “I think he is sick,” she said.

“It is quite a hard thing holding another man’s fate in your hands. It is new to him. Give him some time,” Cearan advised her, pouring them both a goblet of wine.

Ki lingered over hers then went upstairs to their chamber. Drace sat in a chair, a cup in one hand, his head in his other hand, his elbow on his knee. He had stripped down to his drawers and his hair was in disarray as if he had run his hands through it several times.

“You look quite rough,” Ki commented when she saw him.

Drace just shook his head. Ki came over and knelt in front of him. “What is wrong, love?”

He moved his hand. He wore an expression she had never seen on him before. “What is it?”

“I sat there looking at that man and all I could think of was how he had wanted you. I could see his hands on you and I wanted to kill him. I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and watch the life fade right out of him. When Cearan was lashing him, I wanted to take the whip and use it until Siken’s blood ran all over the stones.” Drace looked at Ki helplessly. “Can you understand that?”

“Yes,” she whispered and laid her head on his knee. He put his free hand on her head, fingers burrowing into her soft hair. “When I came up here and Estelle was stitching you, I wanted to kill him. That he could have killed you…,” she didn’t finish the thought. “Then you left and had that fight with the Zakara and got caught in that storm.”

“That was my own stupidity that put me in that position. It’s over now. Was I harsh enough do you think?”

“You hit him in his pride and he knows very well how it could have gone for him. You did well. Pigs? That was a good idea.” She laughed a little.

Drace chuckled as well, and then coughed.

Ki looked up at him. “Did you vomit?”

“Oh yeah. I think the tea is starting to work. I better get into bed. I don’t think you can carry me if I fall asleep here.”

Ki stood up and took his hand. “Come, I will tuck you in.”

Drace lay down and Ki covered him with a blanket. “Thanks, hon.”

“You are welcome, my love,” she replied and sat on the edge of the bed to unbraid her hair.