Shadows: Book One of the Eligia Shala (47 page)

Most of Shadow Flight also decided to take advantage of the warm sun on the water and headed down to the pond to bathe. Bernardo headed back to the camp after a quick dip, wanting to have someone with Master Ki as much as possible in case of any relapse. Farid had bathed earlier in the morning so, at Bernardo’s suggestion, he went to see if he could find any sign of the princess. He caught up with her wandering along the edge of the woods, idly flicking a long switch at the knee length grasses, stirring up small clouds of pollen and seeds. Falling into step beside her, he said nothing; a factor the princess always appreciated. She found his presence peaceful, almost soothing; knowing he wouldn’t push her for conversation unless she chose it.

After walking for some time, Jenevra turned to Farid. “I’m glad you’re not down in the pond,” she said. “But you probably want to go back to camp, Farid. I’m afraid I’m going to have to behave in a very unladylike way again now, and I very much doubt you’ll approve.”

“You are my Captain. It is not necessary for me to approve your actions.” Farid looked mildly insulted, his dark brows coming together.

Jenevra shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she called back over her shoulder as she strode purposefully out of the woods towards the pond full of naked men. Standing on the sloping bank, Jenevra folded her arms, a mild expression on her face, and waited for them to notice her. It seemed to take a couple of minutes, but then, suddenly, they were all trying to get underwater as quickly as possible, spluttering and splashing as they did. Multiple cries of “Captain!” and a very startled, “Princess!” from Baran added to the melee.

Jenevra was unmoved, unsurprised and, apparently unimpressed. “Hello boys,” she called cheerily. “Thought I’d just pop down and have a word while you were all in a condition to listen carefully.” Sauntering along the bank she began picking up clothes. Rapidly gathering more than she could easily hold, she beckoned to Farid, whose glance seemed torn between amusement and horror. “You can make yourself useful if you’re going to insist on being here, Farid,” she said, dumping the armload of clothes into his hands and continuing picking more up. Assured now of the Flight’s interest in what she was doing, Jenevra turned to the men, all now standing at least waist deep in the water. “These uniforms,” she began, waving a gray tunic at them as Farid, having got the idea, carried on picking them up. “These uniforms, gentlemen, belong to the men of Shadow Flight. Now recently, I have noticed that none of you seem to want to follow my orders anymore, so I can only conclude that you no longer wish to be part of my Flight. You seem to prefer Captain Tessier’s orders.” Her eyes swept across the pond. “Ah, good, Captain Tessier’s here too. He’s probably got room for all of you in his Flight—and maybe one or two spare uniforms too. Well, I’m sure you’ll all find something to wear. It just won’t be one of my uniforms. Not unless you’re under my command.”

The Flight had begun to protest their loyalty to her and to Shadow Flight, but Jenevra held up an imperious hand. “Loyalty, gentlemen, is proven, not spoken. Any fool can mouth the words. I will have obedience. I realize that I don’t usually insist on running this Flight the way the other Flight Captains run theirs, but there will be no mistake in this. If you put these uniforms back on, and there is so much as a breath between an order and you jumping to it, you will find yourself shaking hands with Mister Theiss in the frigid realms of the hereafter. Am I making myself quite clear?”

As the Flight called their agreement, Captain Tessier, a little put out at being ignored, called out. “Captain Couressime?”

Turning politely, Jenevra answered. “Captain Tessier.” A slow intake of breath she hoped would slow the pounding in her chest as she looked at him. She had a tendency to think of him as much slighter of build than he really was, mainly because he spent so much time around huge men like Baran Wargentin. Unclothed Tessier was broad shouldered and slim-hipped, with well-defined muscles all over as far as she could see, dark hair running from his chest, down his taut stomach to the water level. Jenevra was desperately trying not to think about anything below the water.

Opening his arms and gesturing at the pond, Tessier took a couple of steps towards the princess. “Timing being everything in a well planned attack, it would appear that you have us at something of a disadvantage.”

A sly smile crossed Jenevra’s face, one eyebrow rising mockingly as she glanced pointedly to where the water was just covering his hips. “But it’s not much of a disadvantage now, Captain, is it?” she said. Baran, laughing loudly, squashed Tessier’s outrage by ducking him firmly under water.

“The offer is there, gentlemen,” she finished. “Any man wearing Shadow Flight uniform when he gets back to camp had better be ready to live, or die, by his decision.”

Farid dropped the clothes back on the ground, a proud glint in his dark eyes. Giving her one of his rare genuine smiles, his teeth gleamed against his tanned skin and he pressed his hands to his heart before extending them to her.

Thudding hooves interrupted them as one of Baran’s men pulled up on the right side of the pond. He had the princess’s black horse by the reins in one hand. “Captain Couressime!” he called. “Master Ki sent me to get you.”

The smile slid from Jenevra’s face. “Is he all right?” she called, heading towards him.

“He’s fine, Captain …” he broke off as he saw his Prince in the water. Quickly assessing the situation, he grinned broadly. “Your Highness?” he called to Baran. “Do you need help? Should we be rescuing you?”

Rolling his eyes, resigned to the ribbing he knew he’d have to endure from his men, Baran sighed. “No, Hugo, thank you. I don’t need rescuing. Our dear Princess was just having a word.”

Chuckling as Jenevra reached him and whispered something to him, Hugo continued. “Well, she’s only small, sir. I’m sure I could just throw her over my shoulder or in the pond.”

“That won’t be necessary, Hugo.”

“But you’ll be sure to tell Prince Conall all about it, won’t you, Hugo?” Jenevra prompted cheerfully. “Conall will just love this story. I may have to write to him myself, just to make sure he has all the details.”

“Jenevra Couressime!” Baran shouted. “You are in so much trouble when I get my clothes back on. One word of this to my brother and I’ll …”

But Jenevra had already turned her attention back to Hugo. “What did Ki-Nimh want me for?”

Hugo frowned, trying to remember the message exactly as Master Ki had said it. “He said you were to come at once. There’s what seems to be a Diruthian scouting party in the valley, but he said to tell you to deal with it straightaway … no sword.” Hugo looked puzzled. “It didn’t make too much sense to me but that’s what he said.”

“He definitely said I should deal with it?” Jenevra was already unbuckling the Spirit Sword from her waist as Farid reached her, and Hugo assured her that he had given her Ki-Nimh’s exact words. “If and when Sergeant Brogan puts Shadow Flight uniform back on, you can give this to him to hold please, Farid.” Pulling her twin swords from her shoulders, she gave them over to Farid’s care too.

“Captain …” Farid’s voice rose in concern as she swung easily up onto her horse.

“Can’t stay. Things to do,” she shouted, wheeling the stallion and thundering off down the valley.

By the time the men had dragged on their clothes over wet skin, and run back to where they had camped, the remainder of Tessier’s Flight and Baran’s Personal Guard had everything packed away, ready to move. Shadow Flight’s horses were saddled, waiting for their riders.

“Where’s she gone now?” Tessier called to his men as he ran up, flinging himself onto his horse; reaching down for the sword he carried in his saddle.

“We’ll be catching up with the Nimh’a in a short while, Captain,” Ki-Nimh’s voice cut across him. “I think you’ll find that if we just follow the road to Virat, she’ll meet us without any problem.” He motioned to Brogan to lead Shadow Flight out in the direction he was pointing.

Ordering his own squadron to follow, Tessier cantered up to the wagon Ki-Nimh was riding in. “The message you sent said there was a Diruthian patrol in the valley. We need to find her.”

Ki-Nimh impaled Tessier with the steely gaze that he usually reserved for his troublesome pupil. “Captain Tessier, the Nimh’a is perfectly capable of dealing with some rag-tag patrol. She has a task to complete, and she will rejoin us when she has done so. Please don’t interfere with something you have no understanding of.”

Unwilling to let it go so easily, Tessier argued. “But she’s alone. How many of them are in that patrol; do we even know that? And she’s hurt,” he lowered his voice, knowing that most of her Flight didn’t know how badly she’d been injured. “I won’t let her get hurt again, Kian.” Signaling to a small group of his men, Tessier turned his horse towards the forest; surprised and angry as Baran intercepted them, blocking their path. “Get out of my way, Baran.” Tessier’s eyes were flat. “I can’t let her get hurt again. I won’t.”

“You can’t get in the way of this, Blaise,” Baran’s tone held sympathy, but his drawn sword was telling his friend that there would be a limit to it. “Just trust Master Ki on this one. He knows she’s hurt. Possibly not quite how badly, but he wouldn’t send her out if he thought her chances were compromised from the start. The way the Order see it, you never know when you’ll have to fight again, even after an injury; so they don’t think much of it.” Baran turned to look down at the large expanse of woodland to the left of the road they were aiming for. “If you just go crashing in there, you’ll put her in more danger than she’s in now. And if you mess up a Master’s test for her—which is what I think this may be—she will never forgive you.”

Frustrated, Tessier waved his men back into position, glaring angrily across at Ki-Nimh. “I thought she was Imperial Protector now?” He said. “How can she be taking orders from Menzetti when she’s supposed to be working for Phillip? It doesn’t make sense.”

Baran settled his shoulders resignedly. He’d known Blaise since childhood, and he knew this mood. Few people did. Invariably good-humored; that lazy smile never far from his face even under stress, Tessier was rarely out of sorts with anyone. But once in a while, Baran knew, Tessier would get something in his head, and no-one would divert him from it. Baran remembered a time when they had been younger, about eight or nine years old, and Tessier had decided to climb a mountain near the Lorthian palace. It wasn’t a mountain the way Jenevra and Spider would think of one, but it had certainly looked that way to two young boys. Tessier had asked to climb it and been told that it was too dangerous, and forbidden to go anywhere near it. Over the next few weeks, he had brooded and sulked and brooded some more, until he just couldn’t stand it anymore and had sneaked out to climb it one night.

Baran had gone with him. He worried that his friend might get hurt and, after all, no one had actually forbidden him to go because he’d never asked. But he hadn’t wanted to climb very far when they reached it. The rock was cold and dark in the moonlight; Baran imagined all kinds of evil spirits just waiting to catch him in the shadows, and had backed out. Understanding, but unable to stop himself, Blaise had climbed the mountain. The going up was fine; it was coming back down again that began to give him problems. Suddenly, Blaise realized how high he was. The rock looked far steeper, and harder, when you looked down at it, and he lost his balance a number of times before finally falling into a deep fissure. The seven gods all had their arms around him that night and he landed on a shallow ledge part way down the chasm. Bruised and shaken he had stayed on the ledge for over a day; until a rescue party, brought out by Baran’s concern when his friend didn’t reappear, lowered a rope down to him. The scrapes, and even the beating he had received for disobeying orders, healed rapidly; but Tessier’s fear of heights never left him after that.

Baran had rarely been prouder of Tessier than when he had hung over the cliffs at the beach, desperately looking for Jenevra. He was the only one who knew how much courage, and love, that had taken. That was one of the reasons he was so sure of Blaise’s feelings for the princess; although he could equally see how Jenevra’s lack of experience with men would misread him. But Tessier wouldn’t give up now. Like the mountain, he would keep trying with the princess until he succeeded, or it killed him.

Riding alongside Tessier, Baran thought about his friend and the princess he loved. Contemplating their stubborn personalities, Blaise’s pattern of behavior with women and Jenevra’s limited understanding of men; he could see only problems ahead for the pair. True, it would probably be entertaining trouble for everyone near them, but Baran had a feeling Tessier and Jenevra weren’t going to have an easy time of it. Turning a chuckle rapidly into a cough as Blaise glared accusingly across at him, the Crown Prince of Lorthia settled back into his saddle, determined to enjoy the warmth left in the day, as they took the road leading into the forest.

Kian Menzetti had grown up in the region, and the forest north of Virat was well-known to him. Although still weak following his injuries at the hands of his fellow Master, he sat firmly upright on the seat of the wagon next to Laio, directing the straggling column of Imperial and Lorthian troops. The road to Mirizir lay on a fork halfway through the center of the forest, and would take them along the edge of the port of Virat: Ki-Nimh’s planned route. He was gratified to hear the men talking as they rode along, discussing Jenevra’s behavior that day. Their opinions were beginning to change, he noted with satisfaction; although he was sure the next few hours would only serve to clarify their understanding of what she was capable of. With luck, he mused sourly, it would also make that infernal Captain realize that he had no future with Jenevra. That there was no room in her for sentiment; despite Kian’s own mother, Graea, warning him that the young Princess was beginning to think there was more to life than the duty the Order had laid on her. Cracking his knuckles one by one, Kian smiled grimly as Laio winced next to him.