Trusted (10 page)

“The day’s grown hot,” Gersa complained. It was nothing of the kind. There was a gentle cool breeze blowing. Leaves were falling from the trees, fluttering about around the tents, proving that autumn had arrived. Half of the trees in the Red Forest were turned orange with the turn of the season. Soon the others would follow suit. Sarea smiled and picked up a leaf where it had blown near her feet. It was nearly twice the size of her palm.

The horn blew again and she could see the men moving to the edge of the forest, their horses left behind. They were beginning to strip.

“This is the best part,” Gersa said with a giggle.

“Gersa!”

“Well it’s nice to know what you’re getting,” she said, flipping the braid to her virgin’s noose over her shoulder.

“What would you know of it? You’re a
virgin
,” Nann said knowingly.

“I know more than enough,” Gersa said. “Now keep an eye on the king. He’s a fine specimen. He’ll make me a good husband.”

“Husband?” Sarea echoed.

“Yes. We’re promised to each other. Didn’t you know? He’s going to make me his queen. It’s just a matter of time. After he’s done mourning Ulric he’ll make the announcement, you can count on it,” Gersa said. “So keep that in mind. Because the minute I am queen, I’ll make certain you’re nowhere near the castle ever again.”

“She’s lying,” Isobol whispered to her. “If she were going to be queen it would have happened long before this.”

“It matters not to me,” Sarea said stiffly.

“It does matter to you. The king has an eye for you.”

“An eye toward making me his mistress. I will not have it,” Sarea said firmly. “I do not aspire to it nor will it happen.”

“I guess we’ll see won’t we? Because I promise you the king will not be easily deterred.”

“He had better get used to disappointment,” Sarea said. “It will not happen.”

The horn blew again, drawing her attention back to the field. And sure enough, there was the king, standing naked in the tall grasses, his long hair picked up by the breezes. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of him, her heartbeat beginning to clatter around in her chest. She had never seen a more beautiful male. Certainly Hectore would not have looked so fine. How was a woman to look on such a magnificent male and compare him to any other? All would come up wanting.

The Trusted stood flocked around him, all of them fine, healthy men the same age as the king. It was well known that they had been the best of friends during childhood, that Jesso and the others had practically been groomed to become Trusted one day. How was her brother going to compare to men such as these and their closeness to the king?

She saw her brother and five other young men moving around the edges of the Trusted men. These must be the candidates for Trusted, she thought.

The horn blew once more and the men began to run. One by one each stretched out and became their truform on the run. The sound of crashing underbrush could be heard as they entered the woods. The women all applauded them, shouting well wishes in their wake. Isobol was one of them and Sarea was caught up in the excitement as well.

“Good hunting!” she cried along with the others.

Sarea was glad Isobol was there. The women were able to chat about the things that were important in their lives. Before yesterday, she had not seen Isobol in quite some time. While Sarea’s family had moved to the city for the summer misra, Isobol’s had remained in the southlands at their manor house there.

“Father has taken to breeding cows,” Isobol said with a chuckle. “He has set aside ranch land for farmers to use to breed the meat and dairy. It’s not as good as wild tusker or boar as far as meat is concerned, but the dairy is unbeatable. Cheese and butter and milk…mmm…as much as we can stand! And it makes good price at market. Father says he’ll see a return on the investment in under two yana. All he needs is for them to start breeding and we’ll have baby cows in no time!”

“It sounds like a wise investment,” Sarea said wistfully. Would that her father had been able to invest as wisely. “But aren’t you afraid of sicklick? It took out half our livestock last yana.”

“It is a worry. But father says this breed of cows is very resistant to sicklick. So we should be all right.”

The conversation turned to the men vying for Isobol’s attention. Isobol was a very pretty girl, with her mink brown hair and warm brown eyes, she had gained far more attention than Sarea had. Or perhaps it had been because her parents had fostered such attentions, whereas, until recently, her parents had let her be. Now she wished she’d been mated and married before this. Then all of her troubles would not have existed. She wouldn’t have to be worried about whether or not she could or should become mistress to the king. For, as reputable a lover as he was, the king had never taken a married woman to his bed…as far as she knew. But such a thing would have been a public scandal, so she certainly would have heard about it.

The first pride of men came back bearing a pair of stags. Her youngest brother in the hunt, Denro, was among them. His blood was high, it was obvious. He had been blooded…smeared with the blood of his first kill on his first hunt. Sarea applauded him and he waved at her brimming with his excitement. But then they were off again.

More and more game began to pile up, servants and hunting parties dragging them in from the woods. Tuskers and boars began to get added to the pile and after a while the king and his Trusted returned to the tents with two tuskers in tow. The first thing she saw was the red gash in the king’s side as he walked toward her. Without thinking she jumped up and hurried over to him.

“You’re hurt!” she cried.

“It’s nothing,” he said dismissively. His eyes were bright and excited, his adrenaline clearly running hot. He ringed a hand around her neck and pulled her in for a hot, torrid kiss, right there in front of everybody.

She tore away from him, hearing the silence that had suddenly come over everyone. She turned to the left and then the right and saw everyone was staring at her. She even saw Gersa, her eyes full of hate and venom.

She put the back of her hand to her lips, wanting to rub the kiss away…and wanting to rub it in. She turned and fled from him, running toward the wood where she could escape from sight in the thick leaves and trunks. But she forgot that the king’s hunting instincts were high, and fleeing him made him want to chase her down like prey.

He caught up with her easily, grabbing her arm and spinning her about.

“Sarea!”

She backed up away from him, the bramble catching her skirts and pulling her down. She fell into a thicket, the thorns scraping at her exposed skin.

The king grabbed her up, plucking her out of the tangle of branches and lifting her high into his arms.

“Stop! Stop it!” she cried. “Everyone will see. You know what they’ll think! Why would you do that to me?”

“Hush,” he soothed her. “I’m sorry. I wasn't thinking. I was high on the hunt and I wasn't thinking. Shh…”

But the damage was done. Now everyone would think they were lovers whether they actually were or not. Him chasing her into the woods only solidified it.

She sobbed, turning her face into his neck, hiding from her shame.

“It’s all right,” he insisted. “No one will think ill of you.”

“They’ll think I’m your latest paramour,” she said woefully.

“But you are,” he said gently. “Only…not just my latest. You are more than that.”

She gasped in a breath and lifted her head to meet his eyes. “What does that mean?”

“I…I’m not sure what it means. It means…that you are not just the latest in a long line. You are in a category above the others.”

“But…I don’t understand. Do you want me to be your lover or don’t you?”

He dropped her legs and she went sliding down his body until her feet hit the ground. He took her head in his hands and looked into her eyes. “I do…but not necessarily in the way you mean. Tell me something first. Are you promised to another?”

She thought of Hectore and thought, maybe if she answered yes he might leave her be. But…she could not lie to him.

“No. My parents…they might be negotiating on my behalf, but they have said nothing to me.” It was the truth. They had said nothing to her about Hectore. “My heart is my own.”

“Then…allow me to at least court you. Respectably.”

“How can it be respectable when you are promised to another?”

“Another? I am not promised to anyone.”

“But Gersa said that she would be queen before the yana is out.”

“Gersa and her father are both seriously deluded. I would no sooner wed her than I would a viper.”

Sarea had to laugh. That was exactly what Gersa reminded her of. A viper.

“But you cannot court me respectably unless you held the possible intention of making me your wife, and we both know a simple country girl could never be your wife. Not to mention…if you had wanted to marry you would have done so long before this.”

“I do wish you would stop telling me what it is I want. I would think I could figure it out on my own. And you are more often wrong than right so it is an unsound pastime.”

“All right then, what do you want?”

“I am not entirely sure. But I should like to court you, respectably, while I figure it out. Perhaps you may not become my wife, but…let us not say it is an absolute that you won’t.”

“Queen? A country girl?” She scoffed.

“What’s so wrong with a country girl? Why should you be less of a prospect than any other woman?”

“I am not fashionable. I don’t have high society manners. I…I think too much. I’ve helped birth horses!” she declared, as if it meant something. Which, to her, it did.

“Well that will come in handy for I have a mare heavily pregnant about to foal any day now. It will be nice to know there is an experienced hand nearby.”

“Does nothing faze you?” she asked with a sigh.

“Very little. Although I must say, a certain country girl has thrown me off stride of late. Now come and look, I’ve bled all over your pretty dress.”

She gasped and realized he was right. The entire right side of her bodice was smeared with blood.

“Oh! Mother will be very upset. Oh well, I’ll tell her it is the king's blood. That should mollify her.”

He laughed at that and met her eyes again.

“As part of our courting, I will kiss you. Often. And publicly,” he added when she would have protested. “But always in the presence of your mother or your friend Isobol. No one will have any cause to think anything untoward is going on.”

“But it is as you said. All you need do is speak to a woman and already she is put in your bed. To be seen kissing one solidifies it.”

“You are such a funny little thing. Any other woman would be swooning with joy to be considered my latest paramour. But you act like it is a death knell.” He took a hand and tugged her virgin’s noose. “As long as you wear this, people will know the truth.”

“Others who wear it wear it as a lie.”

“You are not others. Stop worrying about what others are thinking. Worry instead what I am thinking.”

“And what are you thinking?”

“That I’m going to kiss you and this time you are not going to run away.”

“But we are not in the presence of my parents or my friend,” she said almost coyly.

“Ah, but that’s the best part about courting…stealing moments away alone. But only moments.” He tipped her head back and kissed her softly on the lips. “Mmm. Such a sweet mouth.”

His next kiss was deeper, his tongue touching the seam of her closed lips. She parted them, giving him entrance. He kissed her until she had no breath and her body was sagging limply in his arms. When he pulled back it was to kiss each of her closed lids of her eyes and then her forehead.

“Now go. Go back,” he said, pushing her toward the tents.

“But what about you?”

“I need a moment.”

“But why…?”

She broke off when she saw the state of his body. He was erect, his cock standing out strong from his body. She couldn’t have kept from blushing if she tried.

“And this just from a kiss,” he said intensely.

She swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not. But if we are to preserve your reputation, I should not come out looking like this.”

“Perhaps you should,” she said. “You will look unspent and then no one can say we were trysting.”

He laughed. “A good point, but I’m afraid few will see it that way. And since you are determined to care about what other people think…”

She thought about it a moment. “In the future I will endeavor not to care,” she said. “It is the least I can do since you are trying so hard to maintain my reputation.”

“Go. Very much longer and they will definitely think we’ve been trysting.”

She nodded and left him there. When she emerged from the wood Isobol was standing at the edge of the forest with concern in her features.

“Are you well?” her friend asked with concern. “Oh! Are you hurt?” she cried when she saw the blood on her dress.