Blood Moon
Sydney Alexis VIII

I roused slowly the next morning, feeling the warmth of a body beside me. I opened my eyes and was slightly confused. My sleep-deprived body was taking revenge on me in the form of a blinding migraine. Slowly, the memories of the previous day came flooding back to me-- meeting Kathryn, killing Crycus, becoming him, the assassination attempt, and visiting the brothel. I groaned at the last thought remembering with perfect clarity how many drinks I had imbibed. I racked a hand through my mussed hair as I mentally berated myself of doings something so stupid. I didn't need anything to break my concentration.

I chanced a glance at Kathryn who was still deep asleep. Her body was curled up beside mine and her small hand was lying on my bare chest. Not a horrible way to wake up, but one that would lead to unbidden thoughts. Slipping silently from the bed, I dressed in another one of Crycus' ensembles-- a soft ivory color this time, and lowered myself onto the large chaise on the far side of the room. Normally I would have simply gone down to breakfast, but moving the dresser would wake Kathryn, and I knew for a fact that these next few weeks would be particularly trying for her.

My hand went to the inner pocket in my jacket and withdrew my wife's letters. For the first time in months, I actually ventured a look at them. I idly noted how stained they had become from handling. Sighing, I unfolded the top one and began reading.

My Dearest Thomas,

I hope that this letter finds you well and in good spirits. I know that word of your family is scarce where you are, but the Jenkins boy is making a delivery of supplies to your area and I begged him to smuggle word to you.

As you know little Miral has been reading for a few months now as well as discovering old childhood games. Most recently, she mastered hide-and-go-seek. I must also admit to having trouble keeping up with her. She loves to weave through your father's fields while playing with your sisters' children. She also has been asking after you. Both she and I miss you terribly.

I also write to tell you that the Beltane rights were more effective that we thought they would be. My courses have not come across me in several cycles of the moon, and the village shaman believes me to be with child.

I heard from Shelia's boy that the war is not going as well as expected and that, last he heard, you were in the front lines. Dacian sent word that he would allow you to return home soon to visit us, but that he wasn't sure when. It is my sincere hope that he allows you to return home for the holidays. Mrs. Wright is making roasted pig this year and has invited both I and Miral to her home.

I'll keep a candle burning in the window on Winter Solstice and pray to the Goddess to bring you home safe.

With Love,

Lanna

I felt a warm hand cover my own, but didn't register to whom is belonged to. Slender fingers reach out and brush away stray tears I hadn't even realized were falling.

"You still carry her letters?" Her voice was soft and filled with understanding instead of accusation and disgust.

"Yes."

"My father used to send those home while he was away in the war. He'd tell my mother all about the place he was stationed... the trees... the flowers...the animals... the towns that his men visited. Even the food."

There was a distance to her voice. A sharp edge it took on as she continued and then abruptly stopped. She didn't need to tell me what happened next; I had lived through it. I didn't tell her though. I'd lived in this world long enough to know that sometimes it felt good to confess.

"Then my father was sent to the front lines. He only spoke of how much he missed us, and promised my mother that none of his sons would ever go through what he was." Her eyes welled with tears as she spoke, but she denied them their escape as she blinked them back. I watched her jaw clench with sudden anger. "He didn't care what the cost was," she added softly.

I let a pause follow, knowing that she needed to tell me the last bit of the story. After trying non-verbal cues to get her to continue, I lifted her chin so that our eyes met and asked her point blank. "What happened, pet?"

She looked at me with an expression that was haunted. I swear it was a reflection of my own in the early days. Sitting up straighter in the seat beside me, she turned her gaze to the stone floor. "What was it you told me the other day about woman only being property? I was a thing that could be bought or sold or given away in exchange for favors..."

Clearing her throat, she continued. "My father was badly wounded while not far from the shoreline, and he returned home to be with my mother, sister, and I. Several cycles of the moon came and went, and my mother became heavy with child. The local shaman told my father that it would be a strong male to carry on the family name.

"'Course, my father set about to make sure that his boy would never have to fight in the wars. He started by making preludes to Lord Davenant...a dear friend of his and the man under whom he had served under. After several months of chats, he agreed to set up audience with the king.

"By that time, I was eleven winters my father already had plans for both me and my sister, Phoebe."

Kathryn was so distant then, staring into the stone floor, battling her voice to remain neutral. I knew from experience that some memories cut deep. Without thinking, I drew her to me, her head resting against my chest, her arms hanging loosely at her side. She didn't fight me, just looked up at me with disbelief in her watery eyes. I offered her a smile, silently encouraging her to continue.

"He came home after one of his long dialogues with Davenant and began packing clothes into a small saddlebag. My mother didn't question what he was doing until he opened the small chest that held our dowries. He looked from her to us and back again, and then ordered us to go play in the fields. Even from that distance, we could hear them yelling...and him hitting her.

"It was nearly sundown before he yelled for us. I grabbed my sister's hand and we ran back to the house. He was there, waiting for us, loading the last of my things onto the wagon. Mother didn't come out to meet us. She stood in the window, wearing an eye that was blackened and swollen shut. Her lip was caked with dry blood and her dress was torn. She mouthed the words 'I love you both,' as Phoebe and I climbed into wagon beside my father.

"We arrived at the king's palace ten days later. Our bags were taken and the two of us were ushered into the kitchen to eat." Kathryn offered a faint smile then, turning to look at me with haunted eyes. I resumed stroking her arm lightly as she started her story again. "My sister and I made pigs of ourselves; father hadn't packed enough food for us, and he ate most of it. Said we were both too fat and greedy. But how the servants fussed over us! Filling our bellies until we were sleepy. The woman assigned to take care of us were so good to Phoebe and I. Saw to it that we were never hungry and that we had brand new, freshly washed dresses. They even took us to the royal bath to be sure that we were properly bathed like we were ladies. Our hair was curled and coifed in the style of the time, and the attendants helped us get dressed."

I watched as a fond smile crept across her lips. Her voice had taken on a lighter tone as she recalled these women, but I dreaded where her story would led.

"It was early afternoon before we were totally seen to. Both Phoebe and I were eager to explore the castle, but a young, male servant came to our room to collect us from the attendants. He lead us through a labyrinth of halls that were all brightly lit with torches, and the walls were covered in ornate tapestries every hundred cubits are so. Finally, we arrived at a set of double doors at the very end of a hall. Without a word, he knocked, waited for a response, and then ushered us in.

"Imagine my surprise to find a full library! It was like my own personal paradise. Never had I imagined so many books could exist in one place. Shelf and shelf filled to the brim with ancient writings. Some in foreign tongues I didn't recognize. And there, in the center of it all, was Lord Mercator, our tutor. Under the king's orders, my sister and I were taught everything from art to music to mathematics and a few foreign languages-- French, German, and Latin. He also saw to it that we had the manners of a member of the court. We continued like that, Phoebe and me, for four years. Our days were spent in the library, deep in studies, and the evenings we would practice our sewing, embroidery, and cooking.

"Three days shy of my fifteenth year, I was summoned into the king's royal chamber. It was the first time that I was to see him, and I was rather excited about the idea. Phoebe remained in the library that afternoon while I was led to the king," she paused to look up into my face, pain etched all over her features. "I was so naive to think that I could receive an education for nothing. So silly to forget what my mother's face had looked like that morning. She wouldn't have fought my father so completely if there was no reason behind it," Kathryn's body grew stiff against mine. I knew that this build up wasn't without cause, and I felt my stomach twist as I waited from her to continue.

"When I entered, I did just as I was trained to do-- bow deeply, stated his title, and reminded him that he had sent for me. He nodded and called me forward. Slowly, I approached, never forgetting my station. He smiled at me with a large toothy grin, and I was struck with how ugly he was: deep set, beady eyes; a large, wide, crooked nose; black, stringy hair; ornate dress in red brocade; and his jewelry was worth enough to feed my home village for years."

My chest tightened at her description. It seemed all too familiar. "Solomon?" I breathed. Kathryn nodded. "And he was presenting me to Crycus."

"Oh, Kathryn, I had no idea," I said, rubbing the back of her hand with my thumb. She smiled weakly. "We were married the next evening, and, by the end of the week, I was on a ship bound for here," she said, pausing. Tears finally began to spill over her cheeks. "Least I got to say goodbye to Phoebe."

We sat for a long moment in virtual silence. I held her as she cried and I tried to process what she had told me. Her father had given his daughters up for his unborn son.

"What happened to Phoebe?"

She cleared her throat. "She grew up, became one of the king's mistresses, and was well taken care of until he married. Then, she became a nanny of Lord Davenant's little girl. Rumor had it that she was sent away because she was with child, but Phoebe never told me."

"You still write her?"

"From time to time. It's difficult to get word that far out."

"And what became of your family?"

A cruel smile twisted at her lips. "My mother lost the child while my father was bringing us to the king's. The town's shaman was nearly convinced that the beating he gave her before we left was the cause. Of course, my father blamed my mother. Said she wanted it to happen. Two more children were born between them. Both boys. Both stillborn. Last I heard, my father was drowning himself in the bottom of a bottle."

"And your mother?"

Face full of regret, eyes awashed with new tears, she spoke. "My mother lost herself. Her only children were stolen, and she was so worried that she'd have more girls that she sent sacrifices to Demeter to only send her boys. Suppose it worked. She ended up have quite a few miscarriages. All the while my father beat her. Told her she was ungrateful whore.

"Phoebe and I would send her letters. Tell her that we were happy, but she didn't believe it...or didn't want to believe it. Not sure I do. She was the only person that's loved me...my whole life. Everyone else only sees a price when they look at me."

"Wouldn't say that, pet." She raised her eyebrow at me, silently asking me to explain myself. "It's true. You're smart and strong. Have to have been to still be alive. You have an uncanny ability to wrap men around your little finger." She laughed. "Think about it, love. You're miles from that old farmer's village you grew up in, dressed in fabrics that you would have only touched as a seamstress to a court member. You have servants like any other lady..."

"But I am miles from my family, married to a man that has several wives already..."

"Who saw to it that you had an education. That in and of itself is rare, and you know it. You managed to escape your station, and, yes, Crycus had more than one wife, but the old ways, which you still follow, permit it. Besides, you said yourself that they helped take care of you and you them. Think about how much worse it would have been if you had been his only wife-- taking the brunt of his beatings, him always calling on you to warm his bed, him expecting you to produce an heir just as your father did with your mother..."

She lapsed into silence, curling up in my embrace like a small cat. I couldn't help but think that she had been aptly named. Smiling to myself, I let her be, allowing her time to mull over what I had told her. I simply stroked her hair and watched her chest rise and fall. The quiet was broken several candle marks later by the sound of her stomach growling.

"Suppose you'll have to rearrange the furniture so we can go down to breakfast," she said against my chest. I felt her lips twist into a small smile.

"Can do, pet," I said, starting to extricate myself from her with great difficulty. Her hand on my chest stopped me. I looked down at her. "Can we stay like this? Just for awhile longer. I haven't been held like this since the ship left port," I nodded, shifting in my seat until we were both comfortable again. "Crycus was so kind to me that night. He let me stay on the deck until long after my homeland was no more than a blip in the distance. Kept his arms wrapped around me, let me cry myself out of tears. He could be so tender like that. In those unguarded moments where none of his men were there to judge his manliness. But other times...other times he was so cruel. It was like he had two sides. This cold calculating side that could beat me until my back was bloodied and begging him to stop, and there were times that his generosity overwhelmed me."

I continued to stroke her hair and hold her, listening to her mourn a man that I had spent the majority of my life hating. I suppose in her own odd way she loved him. Probably the same type of relationship she had with her father; she hated some of the acts that he committed, but there were moments that he treated her like his little girl. She'd listened to my confessions already. There was no way that I wouldn't return the same to her.

"He let me go back to my homeland with him several years ago. He had business with the king, and my little sister was still there in the king's care. I traveled with him and got to spend two weeks with her. Just like old times. The two of us were inseparable. Phoebe had grown into quite the woman. Tall, curvy, with long red hair and the same big, green, eyes that held so much emotion. I could tell she was happy; the king loved her and showered her with dresses and gifts. Everything her heart desired. Provided she never told a soul what they did in his chamber at night," Kathryn laughed at the memory. "We were so happy there. Phoebe, Crycus, and myself. The king doted on the three of us. Kept winking at me and saying that including me in his deal with Crycus had been a bad idea if I were anything like my sister in the chamber.

"My manners and knowledge in things discussed at dinner impressed them both. With the use of one of Phoebe's gowns, I was able to slip into the court and be accepted as one of their own. The only give away was the accent I had acquired from living here. Just seemed to make me all the more foreign territory. Then, Crycus came in and took my arm, guiding me away from all the admirers I had acquired that evening. Together, we danced a Volta that was so provocative the bishop in attendance said that we stunk of sin."

I tried to control my laughter so as not to interrupt her story, but the rumbles in my chest gave me again. She paused to cast a fond look at me. "Rather tall man with a beard and thick, black moustache. Looked as though he was old enough to have been fashioned by the gods, themselves?"

She bit her lower lip, trying to recall. "Had this large, brass walking stick?" I laughed even harder. "That was Bishop Grundyism. He was the man that called my appointment to the knighthood a mistake, and that my entire family was formed in sin. The king expected us to go to his sermons every fortnight at the very least, and every time he saw me there he'd make it a point to tell his congregation that those that didn't ask the lord's blessing on marriages were living in sin, that any child born of such a union was a bastard child, and that the only way into the kingdom of heaven was through prayer and confessional," I said, and then elaborated at her confused look. "Lanna's parents and my own were pagans. We were both raised in that belief system. So she and I hand fasted rather than being married in a church. In the eyes of Christians, she and I were common-law."

"But Solomon made you one of his knights?"

"Solomon might be a treacherous old coot, but he wasn't a fool. I was and still am a damned good fighter. He knew that if he turned me away from his castle and from my studies that I was determined enough of a boy to find another side to side that was willing to continue my training. At least that was what my sponsor told him to convince him to let me stay. Solomon's little proviso was that both myself and my family had to attend mass every so many days to keep the court from whispering too much."

"Crycus was the same way. The pair of us slept through the first mass we were expected to attend. After a good row from the king, we showed up at the next rite. I was in my dressing gown, under Crycus' orders, and he was in knee breeches and a smile. This time the bishop asked us to leave and not return. He called us both barbarians that would burn forever in the fires of hell. Crycus just laughed, tossed me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and announced the congregation that he was going to spend the rest of the morning doing what he wanted to do in the first place-- cavorting with his wife in as many positions as he could think of. At least I had the good decency to blush."

"I wonder if you were as bright a shade as you are now, pet." She laughed at that."Probably not. Crycus didn't care though. He knew that the king needed him and his army."

I grew stiff against her as she recalled the army. Craning her neck to look at me she asked me what was wrong. "Timeline's all wonky." Her eyebrows nit in confusion and I explained. "All of this...you being sent to the king, marrying Crycus...the timetable's a little off. Why wouldn't the king strike with his new found army? Why trust Crycus for longer than he had to?"

"We know that the king has spies here, hidden among the men..."

"Yeah, but there's got to be something more. It was wise to place some space between forming a compact and taking action because he needed their target to get comfortable with the idea that Crycus was only an eccentric friend, but why so much time?"

"I don't know. Maybe he's planning something else. Something larger? Solomon seemed pretty determined for me to like him."

"And he's not stupid enough to try and kidnap you or seduce you. That would only be received with Crycus' ire and dissolve any treaty they had. But I know Solomon. He doesn't waste time on things he won't get. That leaves one thing..."

"He's planning on playing both sides against the middle. Taking out both you and the other sides' general."

"And gaining twice the land for half the trouble. Spot-on, kitten."

"Better step up training on the troops, and start teaching you."

"Me?"

"I don't know what the king's got planned, but, whatever it is, it might mean you'll have to get yourself out of a bad situation. I can't guarantee that I'll always be with you to protect you."

She nodded. Then twisted to regard me again. "Are you going to let Tuvok in on this?"

"Don't know if I trust him yet, Kathryn. Haven't really had a chance to speak to him at any length. Seems to be an honorable man, but I'll need to speak with him, feel him out, and spar with him a bit more before I can trust him."

"You have another problem."

"Oh?"

"The other wives. They'll expect you to call on the eventually. Crycus usually visits them during their baths at least once a week."

"How many have seen him without the wrap on?"

"Me and the first wife. She's easy enough to avoid; she's mourning Chakotay."

"Ah. I trust she was unfaithful?"

"You could say that. They were promised to each other when he married her."

"Really?" I said. "Pity that. Let me guess; he offered the family a better price?" She nodded.

"What's her name?"

"Annika. She has long blonde hair, blue eyes..."

"The curvy one I saw in the baths yesterday when I dropped you off?"

"Yes."

I nodded, absorbing the information. "I'll think of something to deal with them."

Kathryn laughed. "I'm sure you could."

I smirked. "Wasn't thinking that. These clothes are enough to hide body type differences, but I'm sure that being laid bare would give the game away. Worst case scenario, I could always send her away."

Her hands slid up my chest, and appreciative smile twitched at her lips. "You're right. You're more defined than he was. Hard in all the right areas." Seeking fingers dipped lower and a moan escaped my lips. With new resolve, I grasped her hand, brought it to my lips, and kissed her knuckles. "Minx," I whispered.

"I've already seen your 'body type.' Plan on sending me away?" She purred, hands exploring my chest again through the thin fabric of my shirt. Her eyes burned with unconcealed lust. By the gods the woman was a siren. "I'm sure fighting skills aren't the only thing you picked up in your travels."

"We shouldn't do this, pet. Will just be a distraction. A pleasant one, but, none the less...having emotions for one another would just make everything more complicated."

She pulled back at my comment. A dangerous, lustful expression painted across her features. I knew that she had only given up for the time being, and part of me reveled in that fact. Her growling stomach became more insistent. Sighing, she slipped out of my arms. "Guess we'd better get downstairs to breakfast."

Without a word, I pushed the heavy dresser aside, slipped the saber into my belt, opened the door, and offered her my arm.

TBC...