Chapter Eleven
Sighing Alanna counted the beams of the room for what seemed like the thousandth time. Clasping her hand she looked over to her Lady Master before hurriedly averting her eyes from the Lady's now bare form. Fabrics of all shades and colours lined the many shelves and racks of the small private room and cutting tools and pins were strewn in an unorthodox fashion across benches and tables.
The seamstress was holding measuring string and was barking measurements to a flustered assistant who quickly noted the numbers on a piece of parchment. Turning she exited the room, ignoring the Lady's look of annoyance. The front of the shop was vacant, the sign on the door proclaiming its close.
Slowly wandering over to the door she hesitantly reached out to open it, the freshly flayed skin on her back screaming in protest. Raku had been ordered to lash her again, in hindsight she shouldn't have taken two of the strawberry tarts, but after months of dry bread and water she simply couldn't resist. She had taken her time consuming it and savouring the sweet flavour, before seeking Anya and secretly offering her the other. The look of delight on the girls face as she ate it made it all worth it, even the aftermath.
A servant had seen Anya's fingers before she cleaned them off and when the Lord raged that two of his strawberry tarts had been taken the slave stepped forward in an attempt to gain his favour. Anya, who was terrified of Raku, had quickly admitted to eating one. She was to be lashed as her punishment. Alanna wouldn't stand for that so she told the Lord that it was she who had stolen the tarts and had given one to Anya.
Raku was waiting patiently outside with the carriage, the horses eating noisily from nosebags. The slaves that had accompanied them were sitting on the ground in the fierce sunlight and the guards were lounging in the shade of an inn, drinking ale.
Raku was ...unique... Alanna had come to this conclusion after weeks of silent and not so silent observation, and gossip. The rumours in the castle ranged from a once free-man turned slave as punishment for being a Princess's lover; to his being drowned at birth by a mother who didn't want him as he was unable to speak. Also there was that strange scar around his neck. Either way, the Lord had paid quite well to the unique seller for a completely obedient slave that was unable to speak, could read and write and could torture. He was, as Alanna had observed, very unique.
Alanna had followed him, whenever her duties would permit, pleading with him to teach her how to fight like he does. As of yet he had refused, though Alanna hadn't given up. She would just shadow him silently, watching what he did and storing her observations in her mind. After the Anya accident, an error of Anya had resulted in her being scheduled for a whipping to which Alanna took the punishment instead; he had sometimes pointed out, in his soft voice certain things. One day, when he had come across her practicing her punches and kicks on a hay bale in the barn.
She had frozen when she had finally seen him, for she was not supposed to be in the barn, and had waited for his judgement. He had looked at her strangely before picking up a bale as though it weighed nothing and carrying it over his shoulder down the steps and out into the stable. Alanna had treaded very carefully flinching when she heard the sound of boots, waiting to be summoned to the Lords chamber for disobedience.
When it never came she had hesitantly returned to the barn, becoming more cunning in her entering and exiting the barn and never keeping to the same schedule. One the first night she returned, it was raining, hard. Litres and litres were weeping from the coal skies and no one was about. She climbed the beams at the back of the barn using her hands and feet before slipping in through the open window and falling onto the floorboards with a thump.
Assuring herself she hadn't been heard over the rain she had allowed herself a small smile before using her gift to light the room in a small ball of fire and climbing through the hay in search of her bale. When he had spoken she jumped out of her skin and quickly spun to face him. He was standing casually in the corner with her practice bale leaning against the wall beside him; small droplets of water dribbled off his cloak and stained the floorboards, testament that he too had been in the rain.
"What do you want?" she snapped, annoyed she had been caught and hadn't even noticed him.
Straightening he slunk forward and took of his cloak, depositing his tunic in the corner with it. His torso seemed to be chiselled out of stone, so perfect was its definition and his muscles flexed as he walked, making Alanna jealous with envy. She paused in shock when she looked closer, ignoring the finely shaped chest and toned stomach in favour of the silver cobwebs across his skin. Scars, she realised as she looked even closer, he was covered in scars ranging in length, width and depth.
"Everyone is scarred child, some more than others." Alanna looked into his eyes and gulped, wondering again what exactly he wanted. He ghosted forward to stand in front of her and then his eyes moved across her body as he circled her slowly appraising.
The night had progressed with Raku having Alanna move her body in strange positions, her muscles protested as she had to hold her body weight on the various pressure points of body. It was called the Dance of the Snake and it created, when Mastery was achieved, perfect balance, strength and flexibility.
Alanna was panting and exhausted by the time they completed and turned envious eyes on Raku who was sitting casually on a hay bale watching her, the body positions he had shown her causing him no contest at all.
Alanna was jolted back from her memories by him speaking to her. He had mastered the art of speaking without moving his mouth and only Alanna knew that he actually could speak, that he had a voice. "How is your back today?"
Alanna had taken his habit of speaking as little as possible and only when required, preferring to listen. "Its better,' she answered softly, fearing her voice would carry as she looked at the ground.
Raku grunted in reply and sat next to her with his back to the carriage. "Any ideas?" he asked inclining his head in the direction of the dressmaker.
Alanna followed his gaze, "There is an upcoming ball to celebrate the birth of an heir, and all the nobles are attending."
Suddenly Raku stiffened before relaxing, almost as though it had never happened, but Alanna noticed. She noticed everything Raku did, in an almost obsessive way.
"When is the ball?" He asked absently.
"Three months, "Alanna answered, with holding her curiosity.
"Are you to accompany the Lady? Raku asked softly, "I have noticed of late that she enjoys your presence."
Alanna turned a deep crimson and quickly hid her face behind curtains of flaming hair that now reached below her shoulders. Clearing her throat she answered, "Yes, you are also. I think the Lord wishes to show you off, similar to that of a prize stallion."
Laughter rumbled deep within Raku's chest before bursting out, a clear and vibrant sound. All animals within hearing distance fell into silence in awe, the humans were likewise affected, and an icy silence fell over the road. The soldiers made the sign against evil on their chests and eyed Raku wearily.
Raku cleared his throat, "I deserved that," he said looking to Alanna. Then suddenly a smile dawned on his face making him look even more god-like, "That is the first I have laughed in a long time, I thank you."
Alanna couldn't help but smile at his radiance and nodded. Then her smile quickly turned to horror as she saw how his clothes had parted at the base of his neck to reveal a thick band of silver. Raku caught her look and swiftly tugged his collar, though not before Alanna had a good look.
Runes and letters in a strange language swirled across Raku's neck, scared into his skin. Each shape seemed to draw Alanna in and she could feel the power radiating off, a wave of nausea flooded her before he shielded his brand from view.
She swallowed her sickness, fighting a pounding head and feeling within the presence of powers she couldn't understand. Blinking she tried to focus and found her vision in a haze of crimson before a hand, glowing emerald, entered her sight. Raku's hand touched her temples and her vision sharpened greatly before fading back to how it was normally and the stampeding in her skull retreated to a dull buzzing before vanishing all together.
"What-," Alanna cleared her throat, "What was that?
Raku sighed and slyly moved further away from her, "My mark of enslavement." He answered dejectedly. "My obedience is assured through the use of this collar, burned into my skin using... unpleasant...methods."
Alanna gulped, beginning to fear the look in his eyes as his voice darkened.
"If I disobey I am...hurt," Raku took a deep breath, "never the same way twice and the pain never fails to bring me to my knees. I learnt very quickly to obey my Master and to please Him continuously. I live in fear always of the pain."
Alanna fell silent thinking, this is the most I have ever heard him speak. I wonder what could make him afraid.
She was about to ask him who had done this to him when the door to the dressmaker open. The Lady stood momentarily in the sunshine waiting for her eyes to adjust before setting forward breezily for the carriage.
Suddenly as Alanna watched her silk slippers caught on a raised cobblestone and with a squeal she was launched forward, her skirts flying, hair freeing itself from her neat bun and her hand hastening to try to stop her fall. With a thus she crashed to the cobblestones and moments later a wail echoed up and down the road. The guards quickly rushed forward, their armour clanking in their rush to get to her. Turning a deep red The Lady graciously accepted a hand to assist her up and opened her mouth to launch a torrent of abuse at the guard when the Dressmaker rushed out of her shop.
"Lady, are you well? She asked hurriedly.
The Lady tossed her head before nodding politely and accepting the guards help to the carriage. "I am fine, she answered, "just slightly unsettled. "
Alanna blinked as Raku touched her shoulder, leaning down he whispered in her ear, "I was thinking she screams like a cat suddenly thrown into a torrent of ice cold water."
Grinning Raku walked away, glancing back to her with a smile and something dangerous and forbidding within the depths of his eyes slowly beginning to fade. Alanna smothered her laugh as she copied his movements and mounted the roan given to her. He stood smaller than Moonlight though slightly larger than Chubby. Thinking of Moonlight made her heart pang and she hoped her faithful mare was okay, not dead and was being treated well by whoever had her. She hoped she was back at the Palace, or even with George.
Memories of home swelled through her and she barely noticed it when the group trotted out, the Roan following the other horses. Faithful, sniffing she wiped a tear from her eye, and hoped he had gotten away alive and was well.
Ahead the skies rumbled and rain slowly began to fall, Raku's hands tightened on the reins of his gelding and caught up with them. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow and she reluctantly answered, seemingly against her will, she had been doing that a lot with him she realised. "Just thinking about home."
Raku nodded, "I too think of my birthplace often. Home, "he stated, "is where you choose to live, and for now you must choose to live here."
Alanna nodded and brushed away another tear as the rain fell harder.
"La'vanka sëanga averax,". Alanna's skin crawled at the power of those words. "Allow not your spirit to break." Raku leaned over to touch her forehead, a green spark jumped from his outstretched finger and leap onto her skin. Immediately her heart ache lessoned and her breathing relaxed.
"You have the gift?" Alanna's voice rose to squeak at the end and she halted abruptly.
Raku smiled, "There are many secrets I poses, child, some you wouldn't even dream of." Wheeling his horse he nodded to her and cantered to catch up. Alanna waited peering into the rain after him. Yes, Raku was a man of many secrets, and Goddess be dammed if he didn't teach her some of them. Kicking the roan into a gallop she rushed to catch up, she didn't want any lashing to hinder her learning.
Slipping silently into the courtyard the Prince made his way through the gardens heading for the sleeping quarters of the King and Queen. Spelling himself invisible he nimbly climbed a balcony and with a thought unlocked the door and slide into the room. His gift told him of the two people wrapped in an embrace and he exited the room as silently as he had entered, leaving no trace.
Walking boldly down the hallways he avoided the slaves and guards that were moving around this early into the dawn and scanned their minds subtly for the information he required. He didn't really need to know where the King and Queens chambers were, he had already memorised the entire castle layout and knew every intimate detail about everyone and everything inside its grounds, even the ones who didn't want to be found.
Still, it always paid to be cautious, you never knew, the King and Queen might have moved to a safer place, one where he didn't expect them to be. But alas, they remained in the same rooms.
Arriving at the private quarters of the Monarchs he considered his options and decided on a shape shift, a fly. Yes, a fly. To think one such as he would lower himself to shift to the form of a fly was folly, though it suited his purposes. He should be a lion or maybe an eagle, a creature of power and nobility.
Shifting smoothly he navigated the posted guards and zipped up under the door and into the chambers of the Royal family. Resuming his natural shape, the Prince removed his spell and reached into his pouch to produce a single white rose. His booted feet made no sound on the lush animal skins that covered the marble tiles as he moved to the Queens side of the bed.
Looking down at her he uttered a single word of power. The Queens body arched up as her eyes flew open, her mouth open in a silent scream. The sheets fell off her form to reveal a large body with stretch marks all over her belly. In another room, as if sensing his others peril a babe awakened and began to cry. An elderly slave woman rushed over to try and hush him and when she failed she gently forced syrup down his throat. And as his mother took her last breath he fell into a deep slumber.
Smoothing the Queens features with magic the Prince withdrew a small silver throwing knife from its pouch and nicked her throat. Blood began to pool out of her neck and onto the sheets, quickly turning them crimson.
Placing the rose between the now widowed King and his deceased wife the messenger withdrew another identical rose and dipped it into the cooling blood of the Queen. Turning the Prince made his way to the newborn, opting to walk through the walls rather than shift again.
The elderly slave woman had fallen asleep in her chair and was snoring loudly; she would not survive the new moon. It wasn't his problem. Wandering over to the sleeping babe the Prince examined the rose before tossing it next to the baby, the blood staining the virgin sheets immediately. A smile was a rare thing of a Tahakén Prince and it often bode ill for all involved. The messenger called to his gift and vanished in a burst of black smoke that slunk out of the open crevices in the room and into the night.
Come morning the King would awake to find his bed soiled with blood, a dead wife and two identical perfect roses stained with his loves blood. A blood oath had been made; the ruling line would soon be slain.
Authors Note: Hey guys, sorry for the mistakes. Im going away toway and wont be back for a laptop and no internet so I thought Id leave everyone with a gift.
Alann will feature A LOT more in the chapters to come, the other POVs were critical to get to this stage, sorry.
As always Read and Review.
Cheers, CDL