Kros Voyeh Ch. 16

Isonei rubbed her face and sighed. "I know. But you and Krouth were the only friends I had in the Kroscur. And you did your best to be kind despite your feelings for Draeseth." Surprisingly, there was no bitterness in the Aran's tired smile, "You may be a sister who would like me better with distance between us, but I want your happiness."

The kindness of the words struck her harder than a blow could have. They made her feel unreasonably angry and deeply ashamed all at once. "You make me feel so ashamed when you say things like that. I wrote a horrible letter and tried to steal your husband."

The sudden sobbing laughter from Isonei didn't help.

It took a moment for the woman to compose herself. "Lislora, his heart isn't a bun you can steal from the kitchens. He chooses to give it. A person's love or affection cannot be stolen! They may choose to give it to another but any blame always lies on the one who made the choice. I could blame you for pursuing him, or Krouth for pushing the two of you together, but he chose." Isonei seemed to wait until the words sank in before she continued. "And I don't blame him. He should have come back to Torga and married you if he were looking for a wife. The two of you are well-suited, you just need to learn how to take care of each other a little better."

The way the Aran saw things was a relief. Lislora hesitantly sat on the bed and then reclined. She still needed advice. "How? I tried to do everything right in bed and he still ran to you in the morning."

"Don't try to make him choose you over me. He feels guilty about enjoying you, and he doesn't want me to feel set aside. He loves us both." Isonei smiled wryly. "Draeseth said he was awake all night, afraid he'd done something horribly wrong. He was worried he'd put me out of our bed for a woman who wasn't affectionate."

Rolling abruptly and taking hold of the startled woman, Lislora studied her face for a trace of a jest, "How was I not affectionate? I did everything he asked!"

After the words came out she began second-guessing herself, was there some little thing he'd expected that she didn't know to give him? Was he disappointed that she hadn't understood what he meant when he said to pull him in with her cunny?

"He likes to be held at night. The man is called the Beast of Kroscur but he's a kitten, he needs stroking and cuddling. He needs to be shown in a thousand little ways that you care and want his happiness, even when he's being horrible," Isonei continued as Lislora calmed, soaking up the Aran's words. "He wants to be kissed out of his sour moods, coddled, and told he's all you could ever want. You don't have to give in to his every whim, he enjoys having to persuade me at times, but he needs to feel loved."

"You shouldn't be listening at the door! They're having a private conversation." Hodrim's stern voice came from the partly open door.

Lislora turned to look, feeling her face flush. "The Lerian servant was listening at the door!"

"He's only part Lerian," Isonei corrected her with amusement, as if it mattered. "And I'm not surprised. Master Krouth listens to everything, always. I've gotten accustomed to it."

"He should not be listening at a crack in the door." Lislora scowled and rose to scold him.

The Lerian was standing a short distance from the door being frowned at by Hodrim. He bowed immediately in apology.

"I don't know if you're simply ill-mannered or if your Lerian upbringing was as unseemly as the Duchess' Aran one but this behavior is unacceptable! I intend to insist to Master Krouth that he find a more suitable servant. A simple maid for me would've been far better, the poor woman is being robbed of her companion due to your presence.

"Even the Munian woman has a firmer grasp of acceptable behavior and she's barely competent as a maid."

Rimathe remained bowed.

Looking at him with a scowl she shook her head. "Go apologize to the Duchess."

He slipped past her wordlessly, keeping his eyes down.

"Thank you for speaking up, Hodrim." Lislora guided him into the main room as the Duchess began to speak in a gentle, firm tone to the Lerian in his own tongue. "It's rude to eavesdrop."

"I..." The boy looked slightly guilty, "We did listen at the door of the study after we were sent inside. He said he was commanded to read to me so that I wouldn't notice if voices were raised. But I wanted to be able to help if his Highness was harsh."

"Even as tired as she is, Duchess Isonei didn't need my help. She took him to task firmly and I think he'll take her words to heart." Lislora gave him a reassuring smile.

"Sometimes he's good to her and sometimes he's..." Hodrim looked to the bedroom door with a frown. "Why can't he just be good to her?"

The question felt like a dagger in her heart. Explaining how her cousin had been raised or that sometimes situations are complicated and people don't mean to be cruel to one another might be more than the boy could understand. She reached out to stroke his hair.

The green-eyed servant came out of the bedroom walking quickly with a look of deep concern on his face. "Her Grace has been kept from her rest for too long, she looks ill and has begun to complain of a headache. I am to fetch Master Krouth." He vanished through the door before Lislora could say or ask anything.

Hodrim went to peer into the open bedroom door and she followed. The tiny woman looked paler than she had even a few moments before and was curled into a small ball. Her eyes were closed but her face looked pained and not restful.

Lislora pulled the boy back as he started to enter the bedroom, leading him into the study. Even with the door closed, she spoke in a whisper, "She's ill because she hasn't been allowed to rest. Rising for the early prayers and entertaining us all was too much. I didn't realize just how fragile her health is, she does her best to seem well."

"Shouldn't someone sit with her?" He looked to the door with concern. "I want to do something for her..."

"We can pray." Glancing at the door she frowned, "Silently."

"Can we pray in her room?" Hodrim looked almost pleading.

"If we're quiet."

They were coming out of the study as Krouth hurried in followed by Rimathe. They went immediately into the bedroom.

Lislora stood with an arm around Hodrim in the doorway watching as Krouth checked the Aran for a fever.

"Close the drapes."

He rose and brushed past them going into the servants' chamber before coming back with honey and a tincture bottle. Once the pale woman had been given some of both, he ushered everyone away from the door.

"She should have been permitted to rest." He gave Lislora a hard look.

"I didn't realize she was that fragile. Isonei seemed tired but-"

"The moment her Grace seems tired she should be told to rest." His displeased gaze moved to the Lerian, "I thought I had made that clear?"

"She became tired at the breakfast." Rimathe looked to the bedroom door. "She was-"

Cutting him off with a gesture, Krouth sourly straightened his tunic. "They shouldn't be inviting her to breakfasts and dinners. She exhausts herself."

"What did you give her?" Lislora eyed the bottle still in his hand.

"Merciful breath. The taste makes her stomach turn, the honey helps." He began moving toward the servant's chamber.

"I didn't think servants were permitted to bring tinctures or herbs into the palace." She frowned.

"I received dispensation. Halloc Urroth gave me a bottle he'd made."

"Is merciful breath enough? She looked..." Rimathe winced as Hodrim moved back toward the bedroom door with a worried expression. "I'd forgotten he was here."

"For her Grace, it seems very potent." Krouth disappeared for a moment and came back with empty hands, ushering Hodrim into the bedroom. "There's no need to be concerned. She'll sleep for hours now and feel much better on waking."

Lislora came to the doorway to see for herself. The tiny woman no longer looked pained and she seemed to be sleeping deeply.

"How much was she given?" The Lerian tilted his head slightly as he looked at her.

"An infant's dose. When she was given what should have been the proper amount for a woman of her size I was unable to wake her." Krouth shooed them out, "I sent to Halloc Urroth asking how strong he'd made his tincture. He commanded the priest coming to see Prince Adareth to look in on her Grace as well. It required bleeding and prayer to rouse her. She didn't flinch when prodded or even when he made the incisions.

"I know very little of Aran medicines, they seem to prefer teas for most ailments. The Aran salves use honey and sea salt, or-"

"-silver." Rimathe nodded. "My mother's father told us stories of those salves being sold in Oyeth Lothlaeri. Lerians would buy them to use on children because the herbal salves they favor can sting. I was always told they worked well."

"How do you make a salve out of silver?" Hodrim looked at them curiously. "And do their medicines work?"

"Some of them work very well." Krouth inclined his head with a faint smile. "The herbal Lerian salves are more effective in my opinion and are much more like our own. The silver salves use fine silver filings. Why Arans would use a metal instead of an herb to treat a wound I've never been able to grasp.

"But it seems their more gentle methods have made them very responsive to our medicines. It requires a great deal of care to give her Grace any medicine at all."

Before Rimathe could speak again, the door to the rooms opened and Draeseth came in holding a rolled piece of paper. "Father had already sent a servant to the bursar." He eyed the looks on their faces. "What's wrong?"

"Her Grace is ill with a headache. She wasn't permitted to rest." Krouth inclined his head. "I've given her merciful breath and she's resting now, but I would suggest to his Majesty that she not be subjected to any more breakfasts or dinners for a few days if possible."

"I'll see what can be done." Draeseth looked to the closed bedroom door with a concerned frown. "I laid her in bed myself."

"I needed to speak with her." Lislora clasped her hands. "She invited me to lie on the bed with her and talk. I didn't realize it would be too taxing." She looked pointedly to Rimathe, "It wasn't until she and I both took the Lerian to task for listening at the crack in the door that she became ill. A more appropriate servant should be found. Let the Duchess have her maid back and find one for me instead. All I require is that she's competent and speaks Torgan."

"I'll speak to him." Draeseth fixed the man with a glower. "I would send Krouth with you into the market, but Isonei needs him to look after her. He can direct Mes where to take you. Rimathe will stay here with me until he returns and we will discuss obedience and appropriate behavior."

"As your Highness pleases." Krouth offered a shallow bow.

Her cousin offered her the rolled paper, "It bears your name and my seal." He didn't release it as she tried to take it. "Get the agreement in writing and bring it back to the bursar with the note. Do it yourself. Don't trust them to do it for you."

"I will, cousin."

He released the note. "If you have difficulty return and have me fetched."

"Yes, cousin." She gave him a smile and, remembering what Isonei had said about his need to be kissed and stroked, caressed his cheek with her free hand and kissed him on the other.

Draeseth flushed and broke into a wide smile. "Have Mes find something pretty from the winter gardens for your rooms, my flower. Father doesn't have our favorites grown here but he should have something lovely."

"Master Hodrim should be changing for his orientation at the Temple," Krouth interrupted them.

"I wanted to stay with the Duchess." Hodrim looked toward the bedroom with a concerned frown. "Someone should sit with her."

"Her Grace will be looked after, I give you my word. I never allow her to be left alone." The servant gave the boy a small smile, "She would be sending you herself if she were awake, Master Hodrim. She's very proud that you'll be attending."

"No mother could have been prouder than she was of you yesterday." The Lerian laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Go. I won't leave the rooms until Master Krouth returns and you can offer a prayer for her at the Temple. Halloc Aurim may even pray with you."

Hodrim drew a deep breath and nodded, allowing Krouth to usher him out with Lislora.

°°°°°°°°°°

Outside the Queen's gate, the sounds of raucous men filled the streets as if the bouts were already underway. Lislora pressed her hand over the small satchel she'd been given to carry the note and payment agreement in.

"This way, my Lady," Mes spoke just loud enough to be heard walking beside her as if she, too, were nervous.

"I should've had Krouth escort me and allowed you to take Hodrim to the Temple," Lislora spoke under her breath. Even after saying it she knew it was foolish. The sour man would have had to leave immediately on their arrival to go back to the Duchess and she would have had to walk back to the palace alone.

"You look worried, little one." A scarred green-eyed man approached looking intently at Mes.

Lislora stepped in front of the woman immediately, "We have business to attend to."

"I mean no offense-"

"Then do not accost women in the street!" She gave him the most frigid look she could summon and he stepped back to offer a half-hearted bow.

"My Lady, this is Master Crethe. He's a friend of Xago's. Many of the Aran delicacies the Duchess enjoys have been brought out of Leria by Master Crethe and his men." The maid paused, "He might be willing to walk with us so that we aren't at risk of being accosted."

The slender man didn't look imposing enough to be a deterrent and his peculiarly long, honey-colored hair made him look womanly. "You're a Lerian?" Lislora asked dubiously. In comparison, Rimathe looked much more Torgan.

"I am."

A stockier man with greener skin and darker hair hurried over, "Torgan women don't like to be stopped in the street, Master Crethe. When they look at you that way you should let them keep walking."

"We'll walk behind you to make certain you're not accosted." Crethe inclined his head to Mes.

As they began walking again, Lislora hissed to the woman, "You shouldn't be speaking to strange men without your intended or a chaperone."

Mes replied as quietly, "I don't seek him out. Usually, he speaks to Xago about goods or things that have been requested. Now and then if he sees me alone he'll walk with me and ask questions about the Duchess. It's safer to walk with a man and he doesn't mean any harm."

"I was told the Lerians are spending an obscene amount of money to keep apprised of the Duchess and her condition. This Crethe may be a spy. Be very careful what you tell him."

"I've only told him that she's sweet-tempered and cheerful despite being so ill. He asked about rumors that the Queen would be taking her into the market to look for scarves but..." Mes glanced back for a moment, "I told him the Duchess is too ill to go walking in the market. She spends her days resting in her rooms."

Lislora almost stumbled. Her cousin was right to be terrified of the Queen taking Isonei into the market. "Don't tell him anything else. You shouldn't speak of the Duchess at all, especially not to Lerians. I'll speak to Prince Draeseth about the matter when we return. The servant Krouth brought us may be spying as well."

"Rimathe is kind, if a little strange at times." Mes dimpled slightly. "I like him despite how religious he is."

"He's religious?" Lislora furrowed her brow remembering Krouth had said something about the man knowing prayers. "But he's Lerian."

"He's as religious as Master Krouth. They pray together and he's asked to pray with me."

"Did you?" Lislora felt certain the answer would be no.

"I was on my way to see Xago, I didn't have time. But he wasn't rude or angry he just said, 'Perhaps another time. Ganas will be pleased to welcome you when you change your mind.' He didn't even give me a disapproving look as Master Krouth does."

"The Lerians are almost Aran, I'm not surprised."

"The smith is here, my Lady." Mes stopped and gestured at a solid, squat looking building that seemed to only have a tattered curtain for a door.

"This is the place Master Krouth suggested?"

"He insisted. I was told the smith's apprentice is the one we want. Master Krouth said he's better than his master."

"Come in with me, and don't leave my side." Lislora gathered her courage and pushed the filthy rag of a door aside.

Inside, it looked more promising. Blades and shields, small sets of display armor that looked fit for children, all arranged in a way that looked uncluttered and surprisingly clean.

A sour-looking woman with small eyes came in through another tattered curtain hung in the back. She muttered something in Phaethian and Mes spoke up immediately.

The Munian gestured in the general direction of the palace as she spoke and Lislora caught the name Draeseth followed by her own name. The woman nodded slowly and said something else.

A large man came through the curtain behind her and cuffed the woman on the back of the head. "Speak Torgan you mix-breed cur. What do you need?"

Lislora gave the man a stern look. "I wished to have a traditional wedding knife made for my cousin."

"Can you pay?" He wiped his hands on his dirty leather apron.

Carefully removing the note from the satchel, she unrolled it and held it up. Even if the man couldn't read he should recognize the seal.

His manner changed immediately. Offering a shallow bow, he hissed something at the woman next to him before clearing his throat, "Before and during the bouts is a busy time, my Lady. It would be expensive."

"The servant who recommended this," she hesitated, "place advised me to have your apprentice do the work. There should be-"

The woman made a high-pitched sound and bolted behind the curtain shouting something in Phaethian.

"Her husband can become a master smith with this piece of work and earn his freedom in the process." Mes half-turned, as she whispered in Aran. "They'll be able to leave this man and find a better place."

"Tell your slave to speak Torgan." The man was glaring at the piece of paper Lislora was carefully putting back in her satchel.

"She isn't my slave, she serves the Duchess of Kroscur. Speak Torgan, Mes."

"Yes, my Lady."

"The Aran Duchess?" He looked as though he were thinking hard about something. "I'd heard she'd given him a knife already."

"She has. This knife is from me." Lislora did her best to look dignified.

He relaxed. "Then it isn't a wedding knife."

"It is." Lislora tried to will her cheeks not to flush. "Because my cousin has an Aran wife the King is acknowledging Aran Arrangements as the equivalent of marriage. He-"

"The Black Bastard gets two wives?" The man leaned on a shield display, eyeing her incredulously.

"He does."

Fortunately, the cloth was pushed aside again and a man with a Torgan's build and the grey of Phaethian skin ducked through it. His hair was hidden beneath a rag tied to his head and he was dirty from head to toe.

Mes drew in a startled breath and then lapsed into a language Lislora had never heard.

"Tell that-"

The grey-skinned man clapped loudly and lurched forward to embrace Mes, lifting her off of her feet and answering in the same language. When he put her down, Mes turned back to Lislora keeping her hand on the man's arm.

"This is Khildis Ironbender of the Northern Isles, Lady Lislora. I knew him from-from before." The maid looked pained and quickly attempted to hide it.