Chapter 17
"Are you going to fight, uncle?"
Dijana glanced at the strange child swinging his legs as he sat on the fence that cordoned off the practice area where a few of the Calabrian men were sparring with sticks. There was something odd about the boy, and she had noticed in the days since coming to Norvana that the Calabrians rescued from slavery by Lord Mordrad seemed uncomfortable around him. Those Calabrians now stopped sparring when she approached with Stryfe, and they stepped away respectfully with a nod towards the man following her. She guessed it was because the scribe was the son of the emperor's governor. What other reason would they have to treat a scribe with such reverence?
Ignoring the other men, she seized the edge of the fence and climbed over. She did not have much to teach the scribe because Balak only relented to have her trained at all because the council of elders had ordered him to do so when she had requested it. The old warrior that had been assigned the task could not have made it more obvious that he was displeased to be burdened with her, but he had gruffly praised her efforts so she felt up to the task of training a scribe.
"We will begin without weapons," she told Stryfe. "I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself again."
The boy on the fence giggled and one of the Calabrian men guffawed as another hurried away. Stryfe's face had reddened with embarrassment as he stood on the other side of the fence, silent as usual.
Dijana put her hands on her hips and frowned at him. "I can hardly teach you with you standing there and me here. You are not still worried about your sister, are you? She can handle Prince Amyr. I doubt there is anyone that cannot."
Her brief meeting with the former crown prince had not gone well. Sharisse had followed her the short distance to the castle, goading her about her reaction to Stryfe's blood, but Sharisse had managed to get herself under control before setting off to meet Prince Amyr to demand to know what he had done to the scribe. They had passed the healer on the road, but Dijana had not stopped to talk to her although Sharisse had exchanged a few words with her.
Lord Taeron had been with him when they arrived, and she had been able to hear him asking questions about his captivity before Dijana walked in unannounced despite Sharisse's warning to wait. Although surprised by their sudden arrival, the handsome son of the emperor listened to Lord Taeron's introductions and Dijana expected him to fawn over Sharisse who was at her most charming, flirting outrageously with him under Lord Taeron's watchful gaze. Dijana wondered if she thought Prince Amyr was a better catch, then dismissed her sister as a fool for thinking he might be interested in her when he was already attached to Lord Taeron's sister. Prince Amyr had been polite to Sharisse, but he quickly dismissed her to turn an assessing gaze on Dijana that made her feel uncomfortable. Had he discovered her identity?
He tried and failed to use flattery on her. Dijana was not blind to her lack of beauty and she was well used to uncomplimentary glances from men, so his gallantry rang false with her and she had to check the urge to kick him. She suffered it in silence before she demanded to know how the scribe had been hurt. He had been momentarily taken aback, but then he recovered to tell her that the fool had been bringing him his sword, tripped over his own feet and stabbed himself. She noticed Lord Taeron frowning during his explanation so she imagined that he was annoyed by his brother's clumsiness. When Dijana suggested bluntly that Lord Taeron might have helped his human brother by training him to be comfortable handling their long, deadly swords, Prince Amyr informed her that the scribe had no need since he was as well-protected as the crown prince. He told her Lord Taeron did not have time to be bothered by the note scribbling fool and she was surprised when he suggested that she spend her spare time instructing him so that Lord Taeron could have more time with her sister.
Dijana had no opportunity to retort that Lord Taeron spent enough time alone with her sister because a pair of females entered the room carrying pitchers of water with drying cloths over their arms claiming to be there to serve the prince. Dijana rolled her eyes at their obvious unstated intent and turned on her heel to leave, not caring how rude the prince thought her. He had been boorish to imply that she was a hindrance to Lord Taeron's courtship of her sister.
"This is unnecessary. I do not need, nor do I desire this training." Stryfe's announcement brought her attention back to him, still waiting on the other side of the fence.
Several more Calabrian men had hurried to the practice field and she saw that they were jostling to find the best place to watch. "Go ahead, scribe!" The encouragement sounded more like mockery to Dijana. "It will do you some good to learn some skills."
"Especially the skills Lady Sharisse can teach you!"
Dijana was annoyed by his implication, and by the reddening of Lord Stryfe's face, she could see that he was uncomfortable as well. She chose to ignore them, instead raising a brow in challenge.
"Do you fear a woman? In your case, I believe you should." The scribe looked like a coward keeping the fence between them.
Taking a hand to hand stance she had been taught, she beckoned him to join her.
The Calabrian men were talking among themselves, laughing as they discussed something she could not hear. Stryfe stared at them with annoyance, then reluctantly climbed over the fence, but he hooked his trailing ankle on the top rail and fell flat on his face at her feet. The Calabrians burst into laughter before another round of furious discussion burst out amongst them.
He refused the offer of his hand, so she jerked her thumb in the direction of the other men as he stood and brushed the dirt from his tunic. "What are they talking about?"
"Wagering how long I will last," he told her with a twist to his lips.
It was unfortunate that he drew her attention to his mouth because the sensual curve of his lips was distracting. She wondered how it would feel to have them pressed to her own. She had seen Princess Chaela press her lips to her husband's, a custom that she had brought to Teralon, and Dijana had thought it looked unpleasant. Indeed, her brother did not seem to enjoy the experience either so the Calabrian princess had long since ceased the familiarity with her husband. But now Dijana wondered how it would feel to be kissed. She shook her head with annoyance at her own thoughts. She did not want to imagine such intimacy with the scribe.
"Stand like so," she told him as she demonstrated the stance again.
"Like this?" he asked. The Calabrians were outright snickering which was annoying her greatly. She could not blame them because Stryfe seemed incapable of following instructions.
"You need to have a wider stance. You should be on your toes, ready to move quickly."
"My uncle Taeron moves like the wind," the boy sitting on the fence announced.
Rolling her eyes, she tried to imagine the buffoon courting her sister moving like anything other than a languid breeze, but she could not. Dijana went behind Stryfe and without warning, reached between his thighs and pulled his legs to a wider stance then pushed him forward, intending only to make him lean a bit. He lost his balance and flew forward, his face landing in the dirt.
"The scribe moves like a sand slug!" The Calabrians burst into raucous laughter.
The Calabrians apparently had no respect for the human son of the emperor's imperial guard, and she could hardly blame them. Calabrians were bloodthirsty warriors who valued strength over intelligence. She would make it a personal duty to train the scribe so that he could protect himself should he ever be in danger without his own personal guard. Dijana knew too well what could happen to one who was powerless. Watching him sit up spitting dirt from his mouth made her wonder if she was taking on too difficult a challenge.
Sighing, she reached down to seize his arm, but when she tried to jerk him to his feet, he resisted and she snapped forward to sprawl atop him. Her body reacted as it did that time on the ship when they had been thrown together, and she felt him tense beneath him. Her thighs were on either side of his hips and she was pressed so intimately against him that she felt a startling male reaction beneath her which sent a wave of scorching heat through her body.
Scrambling quickly from him, she jumped to her feet and smoothed her tunic as he stood, also jerking down his tunic which had torn at the seams of the sleeves and halfway down the sides.
She laughed nervously. "You are built like a warrior."
"It is from carrying around all those heavy scrolls and books!" The men hooted with laughter at the remark of one among them.
"Not to mention the barrels of ink," called out another.
Dijana frowned at them. "Would any of you care to come into this ring? I will teach you a proper respect for Lord Stryfe!" She took a battle stance and beckoned them forward. She would enjoy putting them on their backs. Like all men, they would underestimate her. At least she hoped so, although she realized belatedly that the hulking, famed imperial warriors might be beyond her training
"Absolutely not!" barked Stryfe, glowering at the men. "Keldar, do you not have anything better to do? And Danlaer, what are you doing here? Who is working on the ship?"
Now the men lowered their heads sheepishly and she wondered what had caused their meek behavior until she saw that her sister was approaching, hanging on the arm of Lord Taeron. Seeing him with his fair head bent towards her sister, listening with rapturous attention to whatever Sharisse was saying made Dijana's stomach churn. Would he be as attentive to her or would he always wish that she were her sister? He was better off with Sharisse because Dijana could not have the reaction to him that she had to his brother.
"We beg your forgiveness, Lord Taeron," spoke up one of the men.
Lord Taeron waved his hand dismissively, not bothering to take his eyes from Sharisse. "You can receive your forgiveness from the scribe since you have insulted my brother."
His brother faced the men. "Find something else to do!"
They scattered as if the wind had blown them away. They feared Lord Taeron so much that they were willing to listen to the scribe. Dijana narrowed her eyes as she studied the lanky warrior who had vanquished and subjugated the Varoonyans, but she saw no outward sign of his power. She could not even imagine him with a sword in his hand although his skill and speed were legendary.
"My lord," she said as she marched to the fence, leaving Stryfe behind, suddenly more interested now in the infamous Calabrian warlord. At a relaxed stance, he did not seem that he could be threatening. He was not as tall as the scribe, and while he exuded an air of self-confidence that the scribe lacked, Dijana could not imagine him raising a sword.
"Lord Taeron, how is it that you have not seen to the training of your brother? He is woefully ignorant and shockingly clumsy!"
Lord Taeron glanced past her to his half-brother who stood with his shoulders hunched and his head hanging. He looked utterly pathetic with his stained, ripped tunic, his face smudged with dirt from the practice yard. Dijana wondered how shocked he would be if she offered to bathe him like those females who had gone to do the same to the Calabrian prince.
"My brother is not as inept as he would have you believe," said Lord Taeron before she could delve into any further fantasies involving the scribe.
Stryfe shook his head and looked at him with a rueful smile. "She has the right of it brother. I am completely incompetent where weapons are concerned."
"You are too hard on yourself," insisted the warlord.
"No, if anything I am being generous. I have spent far too much time locked away with musty tomes and dusty scrolls." He sighed mournfully, shaking his head. "I remember the first time that we crossed swords, brother, on the Mars Colony. Do you remember?"
"Indeed, I do. You acquitted yourself well that day."
"Alas, since then, I have forgotten my skill with a weapon. I prefer reciting stories for the emperor's amusement." Stryfe shook his head. "And I know that you were holding back, my lord brother, because fighting me must have been like fighting an untrained child."
"You err, my lord brother! You gave a good accounting of yourself."
"Enough!" snapped Dijana, annoyed by their ridiculous banter. "You need not continue to point out your obvious shortcomings, Lord Stryfe."
"My brother is not nearly as incompetent as you think," continued Lord Taeron. "He was a champion swordsman with a rapier on Earth."
"Rapier? What is a rapier?" She turned to look at Stryfe.
"Compared to my brother's weapon, it is like a sharpened stick," he told her with a smug smile. "Unfortunately, my skill is wasted because the sight of blood makes me faint. That makes me completely useless in a battle, but the emperor has great need of my skill as a storyteller."
She frowned as she remembered him entering the cottage earlier, and while the memory had the power to unsettle her, Dijana was able to fight it. "You were not fainting when you came to find the healer. You were covered in your own blood."
He stared at her without responding. Dijana guessed that Stryfe was simply unable to take another life and that was how he had come to be a scribe. She once thought that she would be unable to kill, but there was a man that she would gladly carve into little pieces if only she could. And since she could not, Dijana would always be under his power.
"Perhaps, Lord Taeron, you should teach your brother how to handle an imperial blade so that he doesn't hurt himself again." She met the warlord's eyes. The most feared warrior in the Calabrian system stared at her like a dumb Teralonian bovine. The stupid creatures did nothing but chew grasses and moved only to get to another patch of grass. If they did not produce milk that made a delicious cheese, they would be utterly useless.
She held out her hand. "May I see your sword? If you are not inclined to teach him, perhaps one of the other men can." Dijana wanted to see Lord Taeron with a sword in his hand. Perhaps then she could believe that the legends were true.
But he did not make any move to present her with his sword. Instead he looked past her to his brother and she turned her head to catch him shaking his head, his brows drawn together in a frown.
"Are you that much of a coward?" she demanded with irritation as she took a step towards Stryfe.
"My brother is no coward!" snapped Lord Taeron, showing some sign of being the man spoken of as if he were a god.
"His imperial sword is not to be trifled with," Stryfe explained, taking a step towards her.
"It is a weapon," she said with a frown.
"A legendary weapon,"stated Lord Taeron with no little pride. "Given to me by the emperor himself and blessed by gracious Lady Arora after I completed the trial. I have wielded it in defense of the first princess and the crown prince. I used it to liberate Teralon from invaders and to free the enslaved peoples of Varoonya. I am not going to give it to you to use in your training exercise with a scribe."
After his eloquent tirade, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Sharisse to stare after him dumbfounded.
Dijana turned to look at Stryfe and found that he was smiling at his brother's departing back. "It is still just a weapon, fool."
"If you say so,"he remarked with a shrug.
Irritated, she took a deep breath, and then she approached the attractive scribe. "If you have already had some training as a warrior..."
"On Earth," he told her. "But we use different weapons." He ran a hand through his long, beautiful hair, then he put himself in the stance she had shown him earlier. "I am willing to learn whatever you wish to teach me."
Wondering what she would teach him, and now suddenly realizing that he meant to grapple with her, her pulse began to race as she imagined them rolling in the dirt, their bodies touching as they had only moments ago and it became difficult to draw breath. Training with her instructor was far different from facing a man, a young man, an attractive man who made her feel uncomfortable in ways that she did not think she ever would.
"Mama!"
Feeling faint with relief, Dijana spun to see Stryfe's sister approaching, her features rigid with anger and Dijana would have sworn that there was steam rising from her. There were tears rolling down her cheeks, so Dijana was not surprised that her brother moved past her, and leaping over the fence as if it were no obstacle, he soon caught up to her.
"You are not going to believe what that bastard said! You should have broken his neck instead of his wrist!"
Stryfe took her arm and hurried away with her, his dark head bent to speak to her, but when the boy hopped off the fence to follow behind, he took only a few steps before he stopped, and then he hurried away in the direction that the Calabrian men had gone.
Dijana went to her sister who was glaring at her. What did Stryfe's sister mean by his breaking the prince's wrist? How could he have done so?
Sharisse took her attention from her thoughts. "Did you have to chase Lord Taeron away?"
"You have spent enough time with him. He is to be my husband."
"We have already discussed this, sister. You have no intention of joining with him, and Lord Taeron has not shown you any interest at all." Sharisse poked her chest with her finger. "I am Princess Dijana and you are naught but my useless sister. After everything you have done, you are lucky that you were not publicly shamed and punished."
Dijana grit her teeth and tried to push back the memory of her humiliation. Sharisse was right. Her father never intended for her to marry Lord Taeron, and he would be furious if she did. His wife was the true ruler of Teralon by blood, so Sharisse, despite the circumstances of her birth, was as much a princess as Dijana. Teralonian queens did not usually birth two females, and when they did, it caused nothing but trouble. Balak had tried to use Sharisse to supplant Dijana and failed, but he might try again, especially if Sharisse returned to Teralon wed to the Calabrian warlord. Did Dijana care? Only her stubborn pride in being Queen Neria's heir made her balk at giving in to Sharisse.
With no argument to make, she turned on her heel and walked away from her sister. Dijana had no identity beyond what she had been raised to be, and even that had been denied to her by Balak. Her father should have protected her, had been chosen from among all warriors by the queen to sire and protect her heir, and yet he reviled her. No man on Teralon would have her although they would not dare reveal why to an outsider. Did Balak truly intend for Sharisse to take her identity to fulfill the terms of the agreement with Calabria? Would Sharisse tell her husband what had happened to Dijana to make her unacceptable as a bride and what would the scribe think when he learned of her shame? She was horrified to think that he would write of it in his report to the emperor.
Hoping to keep such a thing from happening, she hurried in the direction that the scribe had gone with his sister. If she could have a chance to tell him before he learned of it from Sharisse, she might be able to persuade him to leave out the most unpleasant details. Perhaps then she could be forgiven for the foolishness of a female that had only known the attentions of one man, the one man she should have kept at bay because he had destroyed her life.
The scribe and his sister had met up with Lord Taeron and the trio moved off the path speaking in low voices. She managed to hear some unflattering remarks about Prince Amyr but not anything Dijana had not already heard in Teralon after the debacle of his attack on the Varoonyans. She knew she had no right to hear their private conversation, and yet Dijana could not resist following them and ducking behind a bush to listen to what they said.
"Do you think he is lying?" Lord Taeron asked his sister.
"He did not seem to be lying. He freely admitted to his disgusting behavior, even that he was seducing one of mother's servants." She fell silent for a moment then spoke to Lord Stryfe. "You must have been with him. Did Staefyn give him the rose?"
A rose? She remembered that it was a flower that was now grown on Calabria after being brought there by Lord Duo for his wife's garden. Princess Chaela had spoken of the flowers and how she would like to bring them to Teralon to put them in the queen's garden. They were discussing a flower?
"Did you forget that I tried to talk you out of marrying him? I couldn't be with him and you are the same time." Lord Stryfe sounded very annoyed and Dijana was surprised to hear him speak more than a dozen words.
"This is ridiculous!" snapped Lord Taeron. "There is absolutely no reason to believe that Staefyn is involved in some sort of perfidy."
"You are too trusting," said his brother.
Dijana agreed with Stryfe. She had met Prince Staefyn shortly before the invasion when he had come to Teralon with Warlord Kai. He had given some flowery speech to Balak about considering a Teralonian bride, but he did not give Dijana more than a disinterested glance, and when Sharisse tried to gain his attention with flattery, he had turned her away as well. He visted only briefly with his sister before he left on an imperial transport back to Calabria, leaving Kai on Teralon.
"I do not trust him," Stryfe stated. "He has spent too much time in the sacred hills."
"Because he is in love," said his brother. "You wouldn't know what that feels like."
"And you do?"
Dijana stifled her gasp of surprise. Lord Taeron was in love with her sister?
"Shut up! Both of you! Those Teralonian women have made you both idiots!"
"You are any better over Amyr?" demanded Lord Taeron.
"We are not discussing our foolish behavior,"snapped Stryfe. "Nor are we talking about Amyr. If we believe him, then he has not been responsible for what has happened. Who would benefit by removing Amyr?"
"You think Staefyn planned everything?" Quynn seemed aghast. "How could he know what I would do, what Taeron would do...?"
"If he has the power I believe him to have, he has manipulated everyone," Stryfe said quietly.
"You believe that Staefyn has Guerani powers?" asked Quynn incredulously.
"That is not possible!" exclaimed Lord Taeron. "How could he hide it?"
"It is the only explanation that makes sense, and if he does have the power to mask it from his mother, from his uncle, then he surely must have developed into a sorceress like his grandfather."
"What do you think he is planning?" asked Lord Taeron.
They fell silent and Dijana imagined that they had concluded what she had in listening to them. If the second prince removed the one standing between him and the emperor, what was to stop him from resurrecting the tradition of murdering his father to gain the empire the man had built since challenging his own father? And if he were adept at the sorcery rumored to be practiced on Calabria, he would fall under his own son's sword.
She backed quietly away, her heart beating rapidly. Dijana had read the accounts of the past, when the Calabrian emperor had not stabilized the binary region. Wars came on the heels of each other, bloodthirsty creatures of other planets invading, carrying off slaves to be sold on the frontier markets. When Varoonya invaded, it had come as a shock because the Calabrian emperor had put a stop to wars and slavery, beginning first on his planet and then spreading his laws throughout the binary system. Few opposed him and those that did were easily dealt with by the threat of facing the imperial army led by his warlords. Most planets were enticed with trade agreements and when planets were dependent on Calabria, he bloodlessly annexed them to his empire. Few complained when Emperor Trey's rule brought prosperity, peace and stability. Dijana did not want to imagine life without the security the Calabrian emperor gave, especially if a callous man like Prince Staefyn allied with men like warlord Kai.
"Lady Sharisse?"
She didn't realize that she was standing in the path motionless, her own fear paralyzing her. Raising her head, she saw Lord Taeron continuing on the path with his sister while Stryfe had come to stand before her.
"I do not bear a title,"she told him with a sigh. Dijana must become accustomed to her new name. "My mother should not have born me, but I have ceased to wonder what she had been thinking when she did. You may simply call me Sharisse, Lord Stryfe."
His face did not betray his thoughts. "A lord is not born to the title," he told her. "My father is a lord and my brother, titles earned through service to the emperor."
"A scribe cannot become a lord?"she asked with a half-smile.
"I do not care about the title." Now he chuckled. "Were I a lord, I might have to marry according to the emperor's decree."
"I did not realize that the emperor demanded such loyalty. Is that why your brother agreed to marry my sister?" When Dijana had been informed of the agreement, she felt powerless to refuse. After her head had been turned by the handsome ambassador from Varoonya, she did not want to have anything to do with another man until she learned that she was to marry the man that had freed her people. Looking at Stryfe now, his deep blue violet gaze meeting her own, she could not even remember what the Varoonyan looked like. She had once thought that she would never forget.
"My brother agreed to marry your sister because he had no reason to refuse. He had been given a great honor by the emperor."
"My sister had no choice."
"She did not wish to marry Lord Taeron?" Although he did not betray his thoughts, she wondered if she had heard a hint of relief in his question.
"At first she did, but after so many months and then years of waiting for him to come, she no longer wished to be his wife."
"And now?"
Dijana did not have the courage to tell him that she did not want to be his brother's wife. She should tell him who she was and why she was lying about her identity, but Dijana could not utter the few words that would end this lie.
He would have no choice but to tell his brother.
And his brother would have no choice but to end her miserable existence.