Chapter 15

Proofread by Haisau

For five days Alanna had kept him asleep, but without the upholding spell from the Lioness, Numair woke up in bed, beside someone he had completely forgotten about.

He turned towards the first rays of the sun that greeted him from the windows and bid the sun good morning. It had been such a long time since he had any sleep. He felt like a weakling, something he hadn't experienced in a long time.

Moving his aching body, something warm touched his skin of his thighs. Pressing back, he felt something that couldn't be anything but soft skin. Carefully, he continued to press his thigh closer, enjoying the warm feeling. It had been an eternity since he had the pleasure to entertain a woman in a more intimate way, but he had never invited a woman back to his bed. So he frowned deeply over this particular fact that a female resided in his bed.

Ignoring the fact, he turned himself to the left and found that his left shoulder ached from the woman's head laying on it.

Smiling to himself, feeling a bit younger then he really was, he remembered a night where a woman, one that had graced him with her attention for months, had finally invited him to spend the night.

Now, remembering their lovemaking, he couldn't remember if it had been him who had seduced her or if it had been the other way around. Certainly, the air that night had been as cold as the one he breathed in now, where a scent of sweetness mixed with mush filled his nostrils. It was obvious that the fire in the fireplace had died out and with no one inside his chambers other than himself the bedchamber had gotten extremely cold.

Breathing in again he wriggled further down below the covers of his bed. Numair didn't bother to do anything about the woman's head lying heavily on his shoulder, but instead a smile broke on his lips again and without opening his eyes, he moved himself closer to the woman, he winced as a sharp feeling of weakness echoed throughout his body.

Pushing the feeling away he allowed his right hand to slide up from where his right thigh touched naked skin. He had done this caress so many times before, and knew that it was a clear sign of passion. The result came instantly when an almost silent sigh escaped from unseen, parted lips.

Numair, encouraged by the sound, continued to move the tips of his fingers up along naked skin. Moving his fingers down towards the bed, he slowly continued to move them up and along her thigh.

It was only when the woman suddenly parted her legs and turned her body that he stopped. It was wrong this thing he was doing. Not only couldn't he remember that he had taken a woman to his bed last night, but he should at least know her name if or when they decided to be together.

Lifting his head, he looked over to see who it was that lay beside him. With a twist of his neck, imaginary knives stabbed his temples twisting their edges and digging deeper into his brain in nasty torment.

He waited a few seconds until the pain cleared. When it subsided, Numair opened his eyes slowly and looked at the woman; long brown curly hair framed a beautiful face where long eyelashes lay against slightly sunburned skin. A piece of hair had sneaked away from the rest and lay like a wary snake over the woman's nose.

7Lifting his hand and allowing his fingers to push the hair away from her face, he growled low, making a sound deep down in his throat over the annoyance that he maybe wasn't in his own chambers at all?

Even though he could feel the familiar buzz that came from his everlasting ward he had created in his room, he wasn't sure. If he had taken a woman to his bed, it certainly had to be for the first time.

Slightly confused and slightly curious Numair lifted his head. He certainly wasn't in Carthak anymore, not with that piercing cold prickling the skin of his unshaven face. Irritated over this fact, Numair concluded that he needed to be shaved.

Coming to a decision Numair pulled his shoulder away from underneath the sleeping woman and cupped her head so she wouldn't hit the mattress. Lowering her head carefully he couldn't help to be a little bit surprised that she didn't even wake, but seemed to snuggle closer, and as Numair lifted himself up on shaky arms, she moved her face closer causing him to freeze and he didn't dare move.

He was frozen in a really awkward position as his bed partner, with naked arms, moved closer to him in protest. With arms placed on either side of her head, Numair looked down to where hot air hit his naked chest, making the black hair vibrate slightly. The woman's nose was only inches from his chest.

Maybe he could take a few seconds more to lay in bed, he thought, and looked down to the young woman's pink lips. Numair shook his head, clearing his mind. He really needed a bath and the itching on his cheek wasn't something that he could ignore. Bringing more power into his almost shaking arms, Numair began to move, but stopped instantly as warm hands suddenly touched his naked skin inches underneath his navel.

Numair's breath nearly hissed at the touch. Looking down at where her hand came to rest on top of her fabric-dressed belly, he finally came to a decision. It was cold inside the chamber and used to the luxury of warmth, with one mental command, he ordered the remaining logs in the fireplace to burn. He would leave when the room was warm enough, but until then he would enjoy a warmth that was more natural.

Lowering himself down on shaky arms, he made sure that his body stayed as close to hers as possible. Though he was naked and she was clothed in a simple, but well-made under-dress, Numair lay himself down.

The woman that lay beside him was not just beautiful, she was breathtaking. He could very well understand why he had chosen to take her to bed, why he had seduced her in the first place. Yawning Numair carefully pulled the sleeping woman against him, smiling drowsily as the air was slowly filled with heat radiating from the fireplace.

She breathed deeply at his caresses. As his finger continued down over her shoulder, Numair unconscionably pushed down the covers that covered her small delicate frame and exposed her naked shoulders. Biting down lightly into the pale skin, he produced a whimpering that could only be considered a side-effect of lovemaking.

His kiss moved down from her collarbone, reaching its destination. From the swell of the skin, he knew that not far from where his lips tasted the blissful sweetness of her skin, a breast lay waiting to be caressed. And such, without any hesitation his lips reached their destination as legs so sweetly and so willingly parted underneath him, to give him access.

As they moved together – skin pressed against skin, his lips found hers and he kissed her passionately. His hands moved down, trailing along the lines of her lifted leg, he pressed her against himself, claimed her and owned her...

Numair woke abruptly. Something wasn't right – his wards were down and eyes were turned in the direction where he lay. The haze of the dream still lingered in his body overtaking every other notion; everywhere the woman that lay beside him touched, him burned. He didn't want the sensation, but he longed for it, craved it. Knowing from his body's reaction, his own satisfaction hadn't been reached.

Ignoring what his senses told him, he moved himself closer to her, the woman, he so delightfully had claimed...Numair placed craving warm lips down to her shoulder, beginning to caress. If the woman thought that he was finished with her yet, she thought wrong – he always made sure that...

"Ye wake her if ye continue..." someone, a woman said inside the room and Numair jolted from the woman his lips had been caressing. Opening his eyes abruptly he looked down into a face that slept peacefully.

Pushing himself away, his mind confused by the mixture of dream and reality, Numair lifted himself up on strong arms and looked over to where a servant-woman stood with a tray filled with food.

"Sorry?" he proclaimed startled and sat up.

The servant-woman only smiled to him, a knowingly smile playing over her face that reached her eyes. "Ye wake her if ye continue like that..." she repeated, turning her face away, only to move to a table that stood underneath the window. Still sleepy Numair followed every movement as his mind tried to solve from where he had seen the servant-woman before.

When she placed down the tray Numair recognized her features and the room he was in, and gave the woman an angry stare accompanied with only halfhearted scolding words; "Stel!"

The servant-woman turned with a wistful smile, "Aye Master Salmalin. The one and the same – I see that ye mind have returned from the world of passion."

"Passion?" Numair said and glanced around; taking in what had been his home for the past eight years. He pushed himself further up in the bed, not bothering to cover his naked torso. ""What in Mithros' name are you doing inside my chambers, Stel?" He said, scolding, as he rubbed his large hand on his stubbled cheek.

"Don't use his Lordship's name Master Salmalin. Ye don't know if he are listening in," Stel scolded him back, before she continued. "Lady Alanna mentioned that ye might be up about now, so I thought that ye and ye woman would be hungry after all those actions ye had been through."

Numair saw Stel nod towards the person that lay beside him. "Actions?" His hand suddenly stopped mid-motion as his eyebrows rose. "What do you mean by 'My woman'?"

Stel's expression twisted from slightly mocking to serious concern as she folded her arms under her apron-dressed bosom. "She told me that ye would be delirious, but not that ye had regained memory loss," she turned as if to move to the door, "maybe I should fetch Lady Alanna. She' will not be pleased by this development nor is she pleased at all this very moment – trying to our dear king," Stel rolled her eyes, "mercy have Zofia to endure her mood swings all these years."

"As far as I know, she brought in Zofia, because she was the only one who had a temperament that equaled the Lioness'. Alanna knows that she can't scare Zofia away like the rest..." Numair replied in a muffled tone as his hand continued down and over his mouth. Looking to where Stel was pouring hot water into two cups, he continued, "Why are you here, Stel?"

The servant-woman chuckled as she added sucker to what could only be tea, "Making sure that ye don't do anything stupid," she stirred the liquid with a small spoon, "and to say that Lady Alanna expects both ye and ye wife to drink this..." Stel pointed to the cup and gave Numair a sharp gaze, before she wiped her fingers in her apron. "If ye need anything, just send someone down into the kitchen.." and with that she walked out.

Numair looked as the servant-woman Stel disappeared. He had known the woman ever since Alanna had found him bruised, hungry, dirty and on the brink of death. Besides the help from Alanna, Jonathan and various others, it had primarily been Stel who had take care of him, making sure that the skinny mage got something to eat and forced him to tend to personal hygiene with hot baths, until he could provide for himself. Numair owed the woman so much.

Sitting in his bed, he looked down at brown curled long hair. "My wife?" Numair snapped his head around to where Stel had gone through the door of his bedchamber. Quickly he rose from the bed, careful not to wake the sleeping young woman in his bed. As he came to stand on the middle of the floor, cold a drifting cold from the other chamber reminded him that not only was his torso naked, but so was the rest of him.

Cursing under his breath Numair turned around, casting one cautiously glance back at the woman in his bed to be sure that she was still asleep. When he found that she lay completely still, he grabbed for his robe hanging on a chair and draped it around his waist, covering up something he wished not to be seen.

He went to the door of his bedchamber and called out for the servant-woman with a harsh tone, "Wait!"

He could see that Stel halted in her tracks and turned from the door she had reached, only to look back upon him with raised eyebrows as she took in his almost naked frame. "Yes, Master Salmalin?"

Standing perfectly still, knowing that the woman's rosy cheeks hadn't been caused by his words, Numair blushed slightly. He wasn't used to be the subject for the investigating gaze the woman gave him.

"I..." Numair halted his words, trying to form something that could make this thing that was going on right again and suddenly his mind went back to the petite frame laying in his bed. "I would never do anything to her without her consent," he stated uncontrolled, not knowing where those words came from, but he had meant them, every single one of them.

"I know," Stel replied calmly, allowing her eyes to slid slowly from his face and down, before they moved up to meet his brown yet again.

Numair knew that uncertainty was displayed in his eyes and he wanted to say something, but the Stel held up her hand in a dismissively way.

"Ye aren't that kind of a man who takes a woman with force," Stel told him, but shook her head as Numair was about to say something about that statement. She continued as if it was a just another normal conversation between them.

"We, servants do have ears, Master Salmalin and by past rumors I know that ye aren't that kind of man, so please wipe that startled look from your face – I shall not inform Lady Alanna of your forgetfulness, if ye, Master Salmalin get underneath the covers again. Ye are lucky to have them already warmed up for ye."

Numair glanced back into the room where his wife slept. "Thank you," he said carefully allowing himself to give a little indiscreet nod with his head.

Stel nodded and laughed low. Stel had a way to make Numair feel like a young boy while she showed that she understood everything about him. She reminded him of a teacher he once had that simultaneously could scold and praise a person on the same time. "Thank you for everything," he repeated again, allowing her to see his gratitude.

Stel glared daggers at him as she responded, her voice slightly tender. "Now, don't be sentimental all of the sudden, I may not be around to pull ye away from the Black Gods arms another time as I did those many years ago."

Numair nodded and said nothing. He knew how much the woman cared for him and the feeling was mutual. He almost jump when Stel continued, "If ye are not back in bed with your wife before I close the door I will fetch Lady Alanna," she threatened and gripped the handle of the door pulling it close while she smiled mischievously.

"Oh and I will tell everyone what a sight that was bestowed on lucky me - the Gods are indeed smiling down on everyone these days," she stated with a clear smirk in her voice, referring to Numair's half naked state as she pulled the door closer behind her.

Numair kept standing where he was. He was the lucky one, he concluded. He was surrounded by people, not his family, but friends that loved him and took care of him, when he couldn't do it himself. Smiling broadly, he was sure that Stel, a servant-woman notorious of forgetting her manners, was going to be evenly fond of his new wife.

He jumped slightly when the door was yanked open again and Stel looked sternly at him. "Master Salmalin! Didn't I just order ye back in bed?"

Numair found himself turning on his heels instantly, hurrying over to the door to his bedchamber like a page! He had reached the threshold to his bedchamber when a muttering reached his ears, "Nobles! Always need to order them about...and don't forget to drink that tea!"

Rolling his eyes Numair heard the soft click of his door as it closed. Coming inside his bedchamber, he strode over to where the two cups of tea still stood steaming. He quickly swallowed the liquid within a few seconds listening to the small incoherent words that came from his bed.

As the tea filled his empty stomach, he felt strength coming back. The weak feeling he had felt while laying in bed, was slowly disappearing.

Newly bathed and shaved, Numair found himself standing in the middle of the floor of what he considered to be his study room. Even though he had rooms for study in the building that housed the university, he had always used this chamber as his primary study room. He had everything he needed to do his job as the king's chief mage in here and it was rare that he used the rooms in the university to other things than to teach students.

This chamber held everything a black robe mage needed in his line of work when working for a powerful and important monarch. From floor to roof large bookcases stood filled up with whatever necessary books he needed and in the far end, beside the large windows where gray clouds swiftly crossed the sky, stood his desk.

A simple table that with a first glance didn't seem to hold much, but as the mage walked towards it, it's appearance of clean empty surfaces changed into a quite a mess.

Lifting the illusion Numair sighed deeply. On it stood his latest work, one he hadn't had time to finish before the news of his sudden engagement had been declared from his king, forcing his life to turn upside down.

Back then the purpose of the experiment had excited him and kept him awake from sundown to sunset without any sleep. Now standing bent over it, Numair realized that the purpose of it was now completely useless and even if he was to begin again, he couldn't do it. Collecting a box he cleared the surface of his desk, not caring that the glass-bottles clinked as they hit the bottom and shattered into pieces.

With a heavy sigh Numair suddenly realized that the time of experiments was now completely over - unless the strange female creature, the one Stel had called his wife, that lay in his bed wouldn't mind that he was absent for not only days at a time but weeks.

He was about to hide the box away when a soft knock sounded on his door. Even though the tea had left him feeling more like himself, he didn't want any visitors When he checked his gift he found only a tiny spark that was continuing to grow.

About to call out to whoever it was that stood on the other side of the door, he heard it click open. Turning around he saw a familiar figure leaning against the frame of the door, with arms crossed in front of themself. Grimacing Numair commented soberly; "So she couldn't keep that tongue of hers in place, could she?" he questioned, referring to Stel.

Alanna smiled calmly walking into his study. "Actually, you have her to thank for keeping every lady in court away from this room," she replied and allowed herself to fall down into one of two chairs.

Numair's eyebrows rose significantly, "Is that so?"

"Yes," Alanna replied slowly. "Whatever news we came home with, it has brewed into quite a tale."

"Of course it has," Numair mumbled and took a seat opposite the lady knight. "So Stel has kept the ladies away? Surely they know now that I'm not on the market anymore?"

Alanna laughed, before she quoted one of the things she had overhead on her way to Numair's chambers. "A horse-girl? Was that the best his majesty could come up with? Why not have him married to one of the laundry-girls, that way we can be sure that he is always clean!" Alanna's prim voice ended and transformed back into her own, "they think her not entitled to be at your side, Numair..." Alanna tilted her head slightly, "which means that she is partly at risk."

"I'm not unfamiliar with having a threat hanging over my head and neither is she," Numair retorted thinking back to the last conversation he had with his wife. She had plainly and outright told him that her status at the Gallan court had been horrible.

"From what she told me, and the snooping I did around the Gallan castle, she has been experiencing something of the worst behavior." He said, observing how Alanna would welcome this news.

Her reaction was as expected. "That bad?"

"Bad behavior is expected when they don't know that there is a jewel in their midst," Numair answered as he nodded. "The ladies will come around," he continued, knowing full well that it was only false hope.

Alanna snorted. "I hope she can manage – some of them have been on your tail ever since you came here."

"She can, Alanna," Numair snapped, rising angrily to his feet. Walking away from his friend, standing looking down at the empty surface of his desk, he continued angrily, "there are more serious things at stake other than some court-ladies who think they can undo what has been done."

"You mean the assassin?" Alanna asked.

Numair looked over to where Alanna was seated, realizing she had hoped that Numair, would bring up the assassin. "Yes," he said, thinking about the two kings the assassin had successfully murdered.

"You aren't here to tell me that you fear for my wife's well-being?" Numair questioned, seeing something in Alanna's violet eyes, something disturbing. Straightening himself up he turned to face her with the height of his body, "why are you here, Alanna?"

"I'm here because we are entering a dangerous time, Numair. I cannot withhold important information from Jonathan forever. He has sought me out demanding an explanation on what else I know about King Angus' death and I played the 'Mindelan'-card on him, but I can't hold him off forever."

"So the two of you are still not on speaking terms?" Numair inquired, crossing his arms in front of him.

Alanna laughed as she shook her head, making her red short hair dance. "I'm keeping him at bay. It's fortunate that I'm still furious about the probation-thing Lord Wyldon tricked him into."

"You have to forgive him eventually," Numair said, "or come to some kind of understanding. I know that there is a lad among the pages who is rather gifted –You know Lord Baird's son?"

Alanna looked horrified for a moment. "There is still a whole year before the pages becomes squires, until then..."

Numair laughed, knowing full well that the Lioness would rather go to battle than taking on a squire. "Until than you can drive our dear king crazy..."

"I prefer that than to have a squire who can't keeps his mouth closed..." Numair stared at Alanna and she only stared back. "What?" she said, accusingly.

"Nothing," Numair replied, trying to hide his smile, but clearly unsuccessful.

Alanna growled low. "Good, because whenever Jonathan tries to speak to me...let's say that for the safety of the country it's a fortune that he and I are not married, otherwise Tortall would be at war as we speak."

Numair grimaced, before his expression turned into a smile. "This disagreement...can it be to our advantage?"

Alanna looked at him sharply with her violet eyes ablaze. Numair gasped, "You have a plan!"

A wicked smile played across Alanna's lips. "I do, but it involves something that no one has ever done before and something that is dangerous and clearly stupid and in the end we will be in the need of unexpected aid."

Puzzled and curious Numair returned to the chair he had left minutes before. "Continue," he urged her.

"I have secrets, or my dear husband and I have secrets – secrets that cannot come into the open, but I have means to get help from someone ruling the streets..."

Numair leaned forth, clasping his hands together as his elbows came to rest on his knees. "The Rogue..." he concluded.

Alanna nodded. "The new Rogue is my nephew and his services can be bought..."

"With the right amount of money, I presume?" Numair said. "Would he take on an assignment that is dangerous, possibly even deadly?"

Her violet eyes were sharp when Alanna replied; "With the right amount of golden persuasions he would be interested. The only thing is – how can we be sure that the assassin is on his way here?"

Numair lifted his head with a dark dangerous smile. "I left a trace – he's tracking my wife."

"What!?" Alanna rose from her chair. "Numair...how could you be so..."

"Stupid?" Numair cut her off. "He's dangerous, Alanna. We need to deal with him on our terms and besides, I can feel his presence. He's coming to Corus."

"You can sense him?"

"Yes," Numair nodded slowly. "I can sense him, but he can't sense me. He'll be here the day after tomorrow at sunrise."

"So you have confirmed that he is a well-trained mage? Maybe someone from..." Alanna questioned worry entering her voice. Numair shook his head slowly.

"No...I don't think that he is schooled either at the City of the Gods or at the Carthaki University," he said as he hesitated a bit, trying to give voice to his thoughts or his worries. "You know as well as I that I'm not the only black robe and come to think of it, I'm sure that there might be others who are a lot stronger than me or getting stronger by the years..."Numair stopped as Alanna's expression became guarded.

.Numair continued as he ignored his friends troubled look, "We both know that something has been off for years now...nothing isn't as it seems any longer. I know that your husband is getting more and more notifications that fewer are born with the gift, instead people have had to resort to a more natural way to create magic." Numair shuddered, trying to shake of the feeling he had been feeling ever since his encounter with the royal healer back in Galla, who had insisted that he needed the young woman's blood to boost his fading gift.

For a few minutes the chamber was silent until Numair spoke at last. "Your herbalism skill must be improving, Alanna," he said slowly, before he continued to explain, "ever since drinking that herbal tea of yours, my senses has been on overdrive."

Alanna only raised her eyebrows, as a wicked smile played in the corner of her mouth. "It wasn't me making that tea, spending time avoiding both Lord Wyldon and Jonathan is time consuming," she paused as Numair only stared at her with raised eyebrows. Shrugging she explained, "I found someone to make it, okay...it isn't that hard to brew a tea."

"Brewing such a strong one take a lot of practice, not to talk about skills...Wait...You found someone?!" Numair asked, as Alanna both nodded and shook her head at the same time.

"Don't change the subject, Numair," she finally hissed. "You were saying something about your senses?"

"Well, yeah...I'm feeling as if I'm about to walk into a dragon's cave...one that has been asleep for a thousand years, but has recently awaken." Numair stopped speaking as he looked up from the naked floor underneath his feet, only to see startled wide violet eyes staring at him. "What?!" he asked surprised.

"Are you still claiming that your skills as a seer are weak?" Alanna asked seriously, trying to keep a frightened look from her expression.

Numair laughed low, "I have never been good at fortunetelling Alanna. Even Lindhall would tell you that I nearly failed Divination." He said, thinking back to how frustrated his teachers had been over Numair's lack of commitment.

Alanna didn't seem to be particularly convinced by his words. "Mithros, Alanna! I just voiced what my gut is telling me."

"Usually I always keep to what my gut is telling me, and I hope for the Goddess sake that yours is deeply mistaken." Alanna commentated slowly as she reached into her pouch and took up a vial filled with something.

"What is this?" Numair asked taking in the item from Alanna's small, but skillful hands.

"This is what awaits the assassin," Alanna told him. "I will not be passive as he takes everything I care about, nor will I allow some low-life scum to do any harm to the kingdom I serve," she pointed down to the first glass, containing a blue liquid. "This is something that I brewed...ehm, well not me, but someone else.. -" Alanna stopped her words as she took in Numair's expression as he stared up at her.

"Don't look at me like that," she exclaimed and tossed herself down back into her seat again.

Numair smiled, "I'm not saying anything."

She snorted low, "Your eyes are saying what your mouth doesn't."

He gave up the pretense with a sigh and turned the glass over in his large hands. The content was powerfull. Some of the ingredients in the vial was complex, others rather harmful.

He detected traces of the flower 'Masterwood' that created a barrier against negative energy, which was smart if the receiver had evil intentions. The other was leaves from a thorny bush called 'Barberry' that forced the person covered in it to be free from the power that is controlling he or her. Its effect would not come at once, but would take its time to be absorbed into the skin.

Then there were bark from an old tree called 'Yew', which was also known as the Tree of Eternity. It was an ingredients he, himself, wouldn't have considered to use in a strong poison like the one he held in his hand. There were some severe side-effects if the bark was used incorrectly; he knew of old tales where lovers' had used the bark to make sure that they reconnected after going to the Black Realm.

Furthermore the amount in the vial he was looking at was enough to raise spirits of the dead, the maker of it, was making sure that the one who was hit by it couldn't leave his psychical body.

Numair shuddered and looked into Alanna's eyes, "Your someone have been quite busy?"

"Not as busy as usual. My someone is quite skilled," Alanna stated and took up another glass, turning it in front of her eyes, examining the clear liquid. "It is me who have been busy. Jonathan doesn't want me anywhere around the pages and he insists on having me stand by his side during court session, which you can imagine that I find it 'oh so perfectly interesting'." Alanna smiled wickedly as she said the last part and very subtly ignored Numair's comment, which only resulted in Numair lifting his eyebrows.

Alanna shifted in the chair and took the glass from Numair's hands with an evil smile. "Sighing loudly enough times during Lord Frierson's petition does have its advantages," Alanna continued to say and smiled sadly at the memory of the argument that had erupted between the king and his knight. "Though I fear that what we are going to do now will properly be the end of any kindness from Jonathan."

"And what is that?" Numair questioned low.

Alanna's violet eyes turned cold. "We are going to capture the assassin and then I'm going on a very long holiday," she sighed with longing, "properly where there is only sand all around me. I could always tell Jonathan that Zofia needs to visit her family..."

Numair laughed, not bothering to lower his masculine voice, "Zofia doesn't have a family, Alanna...and by the way, who is this someone you keep mentioning."

"No one," Alanna replied and folded her arms over chest in a stubborn way. "Jonathan doesn't know that," she looked sharply at him, "and you are not going to tell him."

Numair rose from his seat, knowing that he couldn't get a straight answer from Alanna, before she decided to reveal her secret, "I'm not going to, Alanna. He's going to be rather angry with the two of us...until then," Numair called forth his gift, that flared into a small hissing black fireball, "we have an assassin to capture."

Alanna rose from her seat and came forth. Taking the two vials she dropped them into the fire as she called forth her own purple gift, "Yes we do!"

'If you think that I can't jump that high, you're stupid!'

It was this strange sentence that woke her up and it was the following declaration that forced her out of bed with one quick movement.

'It's so delicious! And do you really think that you can hold those up in the air forever?'

Daine stood panting in a room with so many different smells and looked around herself while her mind was overworking itself.

'One single jump and they will be mine!'

Daine looked down herself and realized that she had been dressed, but only in a simple under-dress. Standing shaking in a room that was so unfamiliar kept her alert, but she was in a need of a quick shift as more words filled her mind.

'Ha...you can't get around me! I have managed to get you trapped like a rabbit – though a rabbit doesn't scream like that, so please be quiet!

Taking the only thing that was near her, Daine's ears suddenly hurt She quickly pulled on a simple gown – a dress of a darker shade of gray. Scanning the room as her fingers automatically pulled the fabric down over her hips, her eyes found a tray filled with delicious food, but she couldn't force herself to near it – not when every sense in her body was filled with the feeling of hurry.

'Let me have them! Let me have them!'

Someone, maybe him, Daine thought had provided her with soft boots. Jumping on one foot while trying to get the other inside she reached the door that led out to a corridor and without any obstruction as more words entered her mind. She wanted so much to reach out and use everything her gift could muster, but she held back.

'Meat – filled with meat. They will fill my empty stomach!'

Once outside Daine found herself standing in the middle of a crowded corridor, with servants among others passing hurriedly by her. Glancing to the side she found them giving her odd looks andmuttering strangely to themselves. Daine shook her head, trying to clear it from the many animal-voices that filled her ears. Pushing the sound back, her mind focused on the growling that had waken her in the first place.

'They feed me leftovers. They feed me rats – okay, they don't actually feed me rats, they make me hunt them. There aren't any meat in those and what you have in our hands makes my mouth drool – so, either you lower those hands or I'll jump!'

Picking up the skirts Daine hurried down the corridor, down stairs, only by the guidance of the growling sound of a disobedient pack.

At last Daine came to where she needed to be and pushing open the door, she found only noise hitting her. In front of her lay the kitchen, the heart of this unknown place she had been planted in. Looking forth, taking in the staffs movements, she didn't realize that she stood in the way and only too late did she realize it as a male-servant pushed his way past her, giving her an angry glare.

"Move chit," he said and pushed her to the wall as he picked up an empty basket, "this is no place for a lady."

"Sorry," Daine whispered breathlessly.

The male-servant stopped shortly looking down at her, taking in her appearance. Narrowing his eyes he grunted, "Aye, but don't get in the way again."

Daine nodded, but her attention was drawn away by the sound of growling further into the kitchen.

With the staff occupied she pushed forth and came to where an older woman stood in a corner at the far end of the pantry, with her hands raised far above in the air, over her head.

From her hands dangled two large sausages and in front of her a dog stood growling with its ears laid back and barred teeth. The dog launched for the stuffed meat and the woman snarled angrily. "Foul creature! Get away from me!"

Daine didn't hesitate one moment and went towards the scene. She kicked the dog's rear and it immediately turned around to face her, growling. She growled back, flashing her own teeth and took a step forth to dominate the animal – she was the superior here, not the dog.

It barred its teeth at her and she responded again – kcking at the dog with a swift movement, so it couldn't sink its teeth into her skin. Daine responded the only way she could and grabbing the dog by the neck, she forced it down on its back and with sheer power she took over the will of the animal, making it whimper underneath her hands.

"Are you done?" Daine asked the dog, but as it growled low in resistance, she allowed more power to float through her hands while she locked eyes with the animal making it see that she was the leader of the pack – a pack she had yet to meet. "Well?" she asked again and inside her mind the responds came.

'I can't have a little bit?' the dog asked, bumping its tail down into the floor by sheer eagerness, trying the best to look innocent.

"No," Daine replied and forced the dog to its feet, pushing it from the pantry. "Out you go, leave the poor woman alone otherwise I'm forced to do something drastic, which I rather would not."

The dog came to its feet and with a lowered head it tiptoed out the door, where a crowd, the spectators awaited looking in at the scene that took place in front of them. Daine tried to hide a grimace, as the servants spread to let the animal through.

Once the dog was gone a loud applause erupted and she only ducked her head, but was startled greatly when a hand touched her should.

"Don't be shy," the woman, the one who had been attacked by the dog, said, smiling reassuringly to her. "They don't bite, not if ye don't give them a smile or something..."

Daine turned back and looked for the first time more closely at the woman who spoke. She was an older woman in her mid-thirties with long light blonde hair. Looking back to where the crowd stood Daine blushed deeply.

She gave them a small smile and it seemed to work. After the applause had subsided, they had for moments only starred at her with something that was a mixture of fear, but it turned into something awkward. Daine didn't like the attention, having been ignored throughout her adolescence.

The woman seemed to notice her discomfort and walked passed Daine. "Well," she said, placing her hands at her hips, "ye seen what the lass can do, now back to work."

The crowd dispersed from Daine's sight and she turned to the other woman. "Thank you," she said quietly.

The woman only nodded and held out her hand, which again was something that Daine hadn't expected. Back in Galla not a single servant had ever given her a hand to shake. Daine took it cautiously.

The woman looked down, with a curious glance. "My, my," she said, speaking only to herself, "they said that ye would be shy, but not that shy."

That got Daine to speak, "They?"

The woman laughed, "Yes, 'they', meaning the Lioness and ye husband." The woman walked past Daine and out the pantry, still holding the sausage in her hands.

"Oh," Daine replied, feeling a little dumbstruck while wondering what 'they' might have told this very talkative woman.

"You must be one remarkable lass since they go all the way to Galla to fetch ye," the woman continued and to Daine it seemed that she would never stop talking.

"Anyway, me name is Stella, but ye can call me 'Stel'. Down here we don't use our birth names, some of them," she threw her head to an older woman, mid-fifties who was carrying a large basket of potatoes, "has the longest, most impossible names that can't be pronounced unless one is totally drunk."

Stel walked forth, almost to cheerful after what happened and Daine followed, not sure if she should say anything to that comment. She too had a long name, but it was a name she hadn't spoken in years.

Daine was startled when Stel's eyes looked directly at her. "What's your name by the way? To call ye Master Salmalin's wife is going to be a bit tiring, don't ye think?" The woman lowered the sausages down on to the table and picked up a large knife to slice delicate slices.

"Yeah," Daine replied, trying the best she could to understand that she was married. It wasn't that she had never believed that she would be someone's wife eventually, but she had always imagined that her husband would be as ordinary as herself – never a noble and never a person everyone called 'Master'!

She noticed that Stel waited for her name. "Daine," she said and took a step to the side to let a chef pass her while balancing a large pot of water in front of him. "Just Daine".

Stel smiled and looked at Daine with a mixture of brown and gray eyes. "Well 'Just Daine' thank ye for the rescuing. That dog has been driving me crazy and has done it for years - it was about time the king did something about it..."

She looked at Daine, giving her a smile, "ye know – I always knew that those court-ladies wasn't right for Master Salmalin – he needed someone special, and someone more like himself, being gifted and all – didn't I always say that?" Stel asked one of the other women working in the kitchen.

The woman nodded as she looked at Daine. Daine sighed low. Knowing from past experience she knew that too much attention was bad attention.

"Please," she whispered low, not wanting to draw more attention than what was already on her. She could still sense stolen glances from the servants and even some that looked directly at her. It made her unwell.

Stel eyed her seriously, "They didn't treat ye well, did they?"

What could she possibly said to that; yes ,they treated me like I was the Queen? Covered the floor in front of me with petals and allowed me to sit at the high-table in the finest gowns...Daine shook her head as her vocal cord failed.

Stel shook her head and returned her attention to the sausages on the table, "Well ye are going to get a big surprise –," she thew out her hand as so gesture to her surroundings and Daine was sure that the knife in her hand was going to fly in the air, but that didn't happen. She only returned the knife and placed it safely on the table while she continued, "this court is the oddest one could ever imagine."

Daine smiled, "A bard told me something like that," she said in a low voice, remembering her wedding night.

She looked down at the table in front of her blushing a deep scarlet when a certain image of her husband, standing utterly naked, ordering around the crazy royal healer. It was an image she had kept buried deep inside herself – somewhere inside she was drawn to him, attracted to him, but one single night together and one single short escape from her home wasn't enough to base something valid on – and she definitely couldn't say that she was in love.

A tray was placed inside her line of vision, "Aye," Stel said, before she continued, "I can tell ye that they are absolutely true - though our Lioness is not five-seven tall... " she took two glasses and placed them on the tray, "and our queen is seen in trousers every day when she partakes in the teaching of the Riders."

Stel walked away and held a freshly baked bread up under her nose, sniffing, before she also placed that on the tray. "Master Salmalin may be more hungry..." and with that she walked away with Daine following every movement. The woman's hips were swaying from side to side, a movement she had wondered repeatedly about throughout the years.

Daine averted her eyes as she realized that the movement drew the eyes from the men and Stel welcomed it warmly. Some with a smile and some with a gesture.

When Stel came towards Daine, she talked as if nothing had happened, "and our King," Stel did small approving 'clicks' with her tongue while slicing the bread, "he's handsome, but not as handsome as one certain black robed mage."

Stel smiled widely. "The women above us finds him irresistible," she said and lifted the tray up and turned towards Daine giving it to her. Daine took it. "Though I think that they are going to get competition, when they see how lovely ye are." Stel pattered Daine's cheek affectingly.

Daine blushed deeply. "I'm not that pretty," she mumbled, looking down.

A hand lifted Daine's chin and she looked into serious brown-gray eyes. "Don't tell yourself lies lass," Stel scolded, "ye are as pretty as the queen and she is something." Stel looked down at the content of the tray, checking if she had remembered everything. "Oh...cheese, he likes that. Wait here for me."

Daine looked down at the tray with a frown. What in Mithros' name was she going to do with this? And was Stel referring to her husband? When Stel returned with different kinds of cheese it was then that Daine realized she was hungry.

Stel lay the cheese on the tray and looked Daine in her eyes – she smiled and lifted her hand up, pointing at the stairs that led out of the kitchen. "Ye will find your husband sitting reading up at the attic – he thinks that it is his secret hiding-place."

Daine raised her eyebrows in question, but Stel shook her head as she continued with a smile. "Everyone knows that when Master Salmalin needs to be alone, he wanders up there and Goddess help them who disturbs him," she recognized the startled expression in Daine eyes with a soft chuckle, "don't ye...I don't think he's going to send ye off with your back set in flames."

It certainly didn't help Daine's frown and Stel laughed as she pattered Daine on her cheek again. "Ye are a nice lass and I'm sure that ye are going to get him to settle down. He certainly needs it and some children as well...which I'm sure ye will provide him," Stel ended the sentence as she gave Daine a small push towards the stairs.

Daine turned back, looking at her frightened. "Go on lass," Stel encouraged her, and nodded. Daine looked down at where her fingers was clutching the edge of the tray. With small non confident steps Daine took small step in the direction of the attic.