Treason Keep

“Consider this one of those times. I feel the need for some entertainment and I find the company in this part of the hall quite dull.”

Much to her annoyance, Damin laughed aloud at her comment. She thrust her wine cup at Lord Jenga and all but dragged Tarja to the centre of the Hall where a lively jig was in progress. She had no idea of the steps involved, and did not particularly care. She took her place in the line and followed the steps of the girl beside her, a young thing of about sixteen with a pretty face that was ruined by a missing tooth she displayed when she smiled. The dance was fairly simple and repetitive so it didn’t take long before she got the hang of it. She glanced across the hall and saw Damin watching her. She quite deliberately turned her head away and smiled winningly at Tarja.

“You don’t have to keep looking at him,” Tarja told her when the dance brought them together for a turn.

“Looking at whom?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“You know who I mean. Are you trying to make him jealous?”

“Don’t be absurd! That would imply I care what he thinks.”

“And you don’t, of course.”

“Of course not.”

They parted then and broke into two lines, men on the right, women on the left. The steps changed and Adrina found herself having to follow the toothless peasant girl for a time. When she looked up, she couldn’t see the Warlord, but she could feel his eyes on her. The dance took her back to her partner and she found herself confronting Tarja’s infuriatingly calm expression.

Was he really immune to her charms, she wondered? Is R’shiel so enticing that even when she is hundreds of leagues away, he can resist what is right under his nose?

The lines of dancers moved together. When Tarja took her in his arms for the next part she leaned into him and smiled, meeting his eyes with an open invitation. There weren’t many men who could deny her when she chose to be irresistible. Cratyn and Damin Wolfblade being rather notable exceptions, she recalled sourly.

Tarja’s reaction was not at all what she expected. His expression grew serious. “Damin wasn’t kidding when he said you were dangerous, was he?”

“Do you think I’m dangerous?” she teased.

“I think you’re a spoilt brat, actually,” he replied pleasantly. “I think that’s why you really left your husband. You’re so used to getting your own way that you ran away, rather than be denied.”

“And what would you know about it?”

“I’m something of an expert on spoilt brats, your Highness. R’shiel is fairly famous for it in some circles.”

Adrina’s anger evaporated in the face of such a startling admission. She had never heard Tarja speak of R’shiel before. She was more curious about the demon child than she cared to admit.

“Is she very beautiful?”

“Very.”

“More beautiful than me?”

Tarja laughed. “I’m afraid I’ll have to say yes, but I’m hardly what you’d call objective. Damin could probably give you a more accurate answer.”

“Thank you, but I’d rather not ask him anything. Tell me more about R’shiel. Is she truly the demon child?”

“So the Harshini claim.”

“Don’t you believe them?”

“I’m an atheist. I’m supposed to devote my life to eradicating the Harshini.”

“Yet you have a Harshini lover? A curious way of carrying out your orders, Captain.”

“I have a talent for complicating my life far more than is necessary, your Highness. And you are a complication I don’t want or need, so quit rubbing up against me like that, or I’ll end up doing something we’ll both regret, and when R’shiel gets back she’ll turn you into a toad and me into something that looks like a smudge on the road.”

Adrina smiled. “I like you, Captain. I’ve even forgiven you. Is the demon child really so fearsome?”

“No, just very certain about her territorial boundaries.”

“And I’m crossing them?”

“You’re getting close.”

Adrina stepped back a little, her ego somewhat appeased. She had been beginning to wonder if she was losing her touch. The dance ended with a round of applause and Tarja led her back to the stairs. The Lord Defender had moved on and was talking to the officer who had charge of the horses. The musicians struck up another tune and the hall echoed to the stamping feet of the dancers. Damin was sitting on the stairs sipping his wine. He did not bother to rise as she approached. His manners were appalling.

“I see her Highness dances with the same flair she spins fanciful stories,” Damin remarked. “You survived, Tarja. I’m proud of you.”

“Only just,” Tarja admitted with a smile. “Your Highness, it’s been a pleasure, but I have duties to attend to. I’m sure Lord Wolfblade would be delighted to keep you entertained.” He bowed and walked away, leaving her standing there. His abrupt departure left her speechless.

“Don’t worry Adrina, you didn’t drive him off. He’s waiting for a bird from the Citadel. Tonight is more important to the Medalonians than you know.”

She turned to Damin curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Tonight is their annual Gathering at the Citadel. R’shiel is planning to make some changes in the Sisterhood and Tarja’s very nervous about it. Here, have a seat and drink up. I’m sure you’ll find me much more agreeable company if you’re drunk.”

Adrina accepted the cup and sat beside him on the stairs, drinking her wine thoughtfully. It was a surprisingly strong blend. “He told me about R’shiel.”

“I’m not surprised. You weren’t being very subtle, you know. I was half expecting you to start tearing his jacket off, right there on the dance floor.”

“Do you always have to be so crude?”

“I’m being suitable to the occasion, your Highness. If you act like a whore, you shouldn’t be surprised when you get treated like one.”

Adrina had taken just about all she intended to from this barbarian. He had done nothing but taunt her and torment her. It was time to put him in his place. Time to wipe that superior smirk off his face.

“You’re jealous.”

“Of you? Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Of course, you are,” she laughed. “I’ve misjudged you badly, my Lord. All this time I thought you were a degenerate pervert like your uncle, when in fact, you fancy yourself Kalianah’s gift to women. You don’t even like me, yet you can’t bear the thought that I might find Tarja attractive. How pathetic!”

“Your attempts to sleep your way to freedom are far more pathetic than anything I can come up with, Adrina.”

“If I’d been trying to ‘sleep my way to freedom’, as you so crudely put it, I would have been out of here weeks ago,” she assured him confidently.

“You’re that good, are you?”

She finished the wine in a swallow, surprised at how potent it was. She had heard that the drier the climate the stronger the wine, but she hadn’t realised until now the difference between the sweet blends of Fardohnya and the hardy Medalonian vintages.

“Well, that’s something you’re never likely to find out, is it?”

Damin refilled her cup from a jug he had on the step by his feet. “Ah, now that would imply that I would want to find out, Adrina. Thank you, but I prefer to sleep with women who aren’t likely to try slipping a knife between my ribs.”

“I imagine that’s all you can do, Damin. Sleep with women.” She downed the wine recklessly. She was enjoying this. To the Seven Hells with being nice.

“This from the woman who couldn’t even coax a virgin boy into her bed,” he said. “I wonder what Cratyn’s