The King's Marked Page 11

  “Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.”

  I’d not meant my words as a request for help.

  “I was thinking if we captured one of these beasts and brought it to the city…” He spoke with eagerness.

  “You cannot possibly mean that.” Was I having this conversation with the king’s son?

  He rushed toward me, gripping my upper arms with his enthusiasm. “If they saw it with their own eyes, they could not deny it.”

  My upper arms was a safe place for his hands, but still his familiarity unnerved me The king’s son has his hands on me. If any one were to come through at this moment…

  “You can’t risk the people’s safety to prove a point.” And I’d just scolded him again for the second day in a row. To soften the blow I was about to add he shouldn’t risk his own life, but he was a marked.

  He let me go and sighed, “No, I would not do that. Besides it is unlikely I would find one.”

  He suddenly smiled. “Once again I find myself saying I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not counting.”

  We remained facing each other in the fast growing awkward silence. I wasn’t sure where I should look, since staring at him was inappropriate and likely to grow those strange and unsettling stirrings that were making me feel anxious for having them. Cerac was having as hard a time as I. His placed his hands on his hips and looked back the way we’d come.

  “Do you wish me to attend the wounded?”

  “That was my lame attempt at rescuing you.”

  I dared a small smile. “Not so lame. It worked.”

  Again, like naive youngsters learning to be in the company of the opposite sex for the first time, we stood in awkward silence.

  “I should return to the kitchen. Helna will need help.”

  Using the wall as balance, I raced down the stairs as fast as I dared, pushing away the stirrings in my heart.

  13

  Helna’s salve proved as helpful as my own. The skin around the wound was a healthy pink and the wound itself was halfway to healing. With each day the wound healed, it felt like a link to my old life disappeared. The passing days also meant it became a little easier to shield myself from my memories. I craved freedom from my aching heart, but the pain reminded me of how fierce I had loved. In many ways, I wanted to keep the pain close to keep any other unwanted feelings away.

  With no fights scheduled in the arena, the kitchen was unusually quiet, but this did not stop Helna from baking. When I arrived, she was bent over, pulling something from the oven, and I was assaulted by the warm, buttery smell full of sugar and spices.

  Helna’s job was to keep the warriors well fed for the time they were housed at the arena. The king wanted them strong and healthy so they were capable of putting on a good show. Any warrior still standing after multiple fights was guaranteed a place in the king’s army.

  She heaved the large pie dish onto the table. Without looking up at me, she said, “I have an errand for you. With things being quiet and all this morning, you will go to the markets with Sophren and fetch me some supplies.” She rummaged in her apron pocket. “I’ve written out all I need.”

  I took the note, squinting at her cursive scrawl.

  “Sophren can read it to you if you’re having problems.”

  “There is nothing wrong with my eyes, just the way you write.”

  She huffed. “Get something into you, then I want you both on your way.”

  After two weeks of being fed spicy stews and steaming bread with thick dollops of butter and slices of cheese, I’d filled out. My hips no longer jutted through and my stomach had rounded a little.

  Sophren entered with Millia, the mousy girl, who I discovered had arrived at the arena a year ago looking for work. Her timid nature meant she faded into the background most of the day.

  “You’ll take Rya to see Roberto today. And make sure you return once you have everything. I have other tasks for you both.” Helna waved a large wooden spoon at the two of us.

  “Well, come on then,” Sophren said, entwining her arm in mine. “Let’s not dally.”

  “Don’t you want to eat?” I said.

  “Plenty of time for that,” she said and gave me a wink.

  Helna caught her wink. “’Ere, stay away from the butcher’s boy. I want you returned quick smart.”

  I put down the butter knife and allowed her to drag me to the door.

  “Butcher’s boy?” I said once we were out of the kitchen and scurrying down the passage.

  “She knows his name. She just doesn’t like him. Says he’s no good for me.”

  “What’s his name?” I asked with a smile.

  “Penris. He’s devilishly handsome, strong and earns a good wage. There is nothing not to like about him. We talk most days I come to market and spend our one night a moon of freedom together.”

  “What is that?”

  “Of course, I haven’t told you yet. One night every moon, we’re allowed to leave the arena and go into the city, unescorted, to do as we wish. We must return before dawn to start the new day’s work.”

  “What does everyone do on their night of freedom?”

  “Anything. No one cares, as long as you turn up the next day.”

  It would be stupid of me to ask what Sophren, in particular, did with her night off.

  “Oh, and the best thing, we’re each given a brass coin to spend.”

  Brass was a lot for someone who had no money at all.

  “But don’t worry, Penris and I will take you everywhere and make sure you don’t get lost. It’s a fun night.”

  Outside the arena, with the cloud-covered sky, the streets of Railyon were dull and gray. There were no trees in sight, no grass encouraging me to walk barefoot, no flowers waving on the ends of tall stalks. The yearning in my heart for the open spaces of back home brought a few tears to my eyes. I blinked them away and rushed after Sophren, who’d headed down the street without waiting. Walking up behind her, I allowed myself a smile at her eagerness to get the job done as soon as possible.

  We passed a large fountain in the middle of a public square. Beautiful women dressed in expensive clothes reclined on stone seats, surrounded by men in richly tailored jackets and pants.

  Sophren grabbed my elbow and pulled me along. “Courtiers and the like. You’ll only offend if you stare at them.”

  “I wasn’t staring. I’ve just never seen women look so good. It must take them all night to prepare themselves for the day.”

  “I once heard that a courtier had a servant beaten in the streets because she would not lower her eyes.”

  “You’re lying.”

  Sophren smirked. “I think Helna told me that on my first day out to the market so I wouldn’t dawdle on my return.”

  The farther we moved from the arena, the dirtier and poorer the streets became. From wide-open spaces, they became choked with dogs, stalls, people and wagons, reminding me a little of home. Because our air was filled with the fresh scent of the woods and green pastures, the wonderful smells of freshly baked bread and rich, spicy tarts filled my nose whenever I passed the stalls. In Railyon, the streets were filled with rotted waste, horse manure, urine and aging fruit.

  Sophren squeezed my hand. I glanced at her, but she was looking elsewhere. I followed the line of her gaze to a bloodied sheep carcass hanging from a thick metal hook suspended from a pole. A young man with a long, sharp blade sliced strips from the side of the dead animal, tossing them into a bucket on a low table beside him while a dog licked the blood that was pouring onto the paving underneath. Since he was standing side-on to us, all I saw were his high cheekbones and short beard. His brown hair was cut into a shaggy mess, some of which fell into his eyes, making him flick his head occasionally to remove the hair so he could see where he put the knife.

  “Penris, I gather?”

  “Isn’t he handsome?”

  “I hope he’s more than that.”

  Sophren inhaled and jerked on my hand to tu
rn me a little to face her. “Oh, he’s so much more than that. He’s quite competent in all things.” She winked at me.

  “I wasn’t meaning that.”

  “He earns a good wage. One day that stall will be his.”

  “Is he kind and generous?”

  “Of course he is.” She leaned into me with that dreamy sort of look that only love provides. “Oh, and here we are.” She straightened and pointed to a small stall across from the butcher. “So you see, it is impossible for me not to see Penris when I come to market.” She looked over her shoulder, this time catching Penris’s eye. He winked at her and was about to run a bloody hand through his hair but stopped at the last. Sophren giggled and turned away.

  A lean man, looking twice my age, with little hair remaining on his head, appeared hobbling forward from the back of his stall. As a young man, he might have been tall, but his stooped shoulders neared him closer to my height.

  “You’ve brought a friend today.”

  “And she knows about this sort of stuff, so you can’t go selling us common yarrow telling us it’s white snakeroot.”

  Roberto chuckled and held out his hand. “Let me see that list. And if your friend here will tell me her name, I’ll let her pick the herbs out as I read them off the list.”

  “Rya.”

  “Rya.” He repeated my name, rolling it around in his mouth. “Not a common name in these parts.” He brought the list close to his eyes and squinted as he read. “How about you fetch some burdock and belladonna.”

  It took me little time to find both buried under the horse chestnut, which had expansive leaves. “Half their potency is lost,” I said, holding them up to watch them droop down over my hand. “I hope you weren’t planning on paying full price,” I said to Sophren.

  “This is the best I can get,” Roberto said, sounding somewhat outraged.

  “Who collects your herbs? You need to instruct them to prepare them soon after collection. That will preserve those you wish to sell whole.”

  Sophren laughed. “Got you now, Roberto. Helna’s been complaining for years about his herbs. But Roberto’s right. His leg won’t allow him to collect the herbs first thing and his sons are busy with their own work elsewhere. He has to pay others to do it for him, and they’re all useless. We pay the asking price because poor Roberto is an invalid.”

  I didn’t feel so smug now. “I’m not sure if Helna would let me leave early enough to collect the herbs for you, but I could ask,” I said to the old man.

  Sophren snorted a hard laugh. “Fat chance. Besides, they won’t let you past the city gate. You’ll need special permission from the master of the arena, and I don’t think he will be too happy to spare one of his servants, especially not on a day when the warriors battle.”

  Maybe she was right.

  Roberto shrugged at me, as if to say that was the way of life. “I appreciate your offer, child. No one has ever offered before.”

  Sophren snorted again, then lost interest in us, finding Penris, still slicing meat from the sheep carcass, more interesting to watch.

  I nudged her. “Go over and speak to him. Once I’m done here, I’ll come and get you. That way no time is wasted.”

  Sophren gave me a quick hug, shoved the coin purse into my hand, then hurried off, dodging a handful of dogs fighting over a scrap Penris had thrown into the street and dipping in front of an oncoming cart. I returned to collecting the rest of the herbs on Helna’s list.

  The task was soon over, but one glance across to Sophren giggling at something Penris had said and I didn’t have the heart to collect her so soon. Instead, I paid for the herbs, promising Roberto I would ask the master for some time. He laughed, telling me there was little point, then headed to the back of his stall, counting his coin. I walked farther along the street, taking the time to look at the other stalls, but I wouldn’t go far or I’d risk losing myself.

  I stopped at the last stall, lined with assorted knives, and looked back. There was little point venturing any farther since the stalls petered out. I turned to head back when someone slammed into the side of me and then hustled me sideways into an alley. The shock meant at first I didn’t struggle, but once I realized what was happening, I punched out, dropping the herb bag. The man grabbed my wrist easily enough and spun me to face him.

  There were two of them. Dirty and mean-looking, with scruffy beards and hair. Their clothes were a mish-mash and ill fitting, either too big or too small. The acrid odor of unwashed bodies overpowered the stench of the rotted cabbage leaves and other food waste piled up in the gullies lining the alley.

  “Let go of me,” I yelled, attempting to wrench my arm from his grasp.

  “I don’t hear no polite words in that request. How ’bout you, Manfred?”

  “Not a one, but she’s as feisty as a wildcat. I like my women like that.”

  They both laughed. “How about we see what’s under them clothes of yours, my lovely. You hiding some coin? How ’bout something tastier?”

  With rough hands, he yanked me toward him, pinning both my arms to my sides.

  “Let me go,” I screamed into his face.

  Suddenly he stiffened, his eyes going wide.

  “I believe the polite response in a situation like this is to do what the lady asks.”

  The man’s grip relaxed. I backed away to see Cerac standing behind the first. The man inched around. Cerac kept his sword raised and pointed it into the man’s chest once he faced him. “She belongs to me. I could take your head for messing with my property.”

  “It was an honest mistake, my lord. I did not recognize her clothes. We were only after a few coin.” The man dropped his eyes to Cerac’s forearm, but the mark was concealed under his jacket. They knew he was a marked, of course. Everyone did. Was this fearful reaction because of his station or his ability?

  “If you want coin, work for it. Now get out of here before I change my mind and slit you neck to navel.”

  The two scurried out of the alley, tripping over their feet in haste.

  I bent to retrieve the herb bag, now stained with black mud from my feet. “Everything inside will be ruined.” I peered inside to find the limp leaves mashed into the side of the bag, turning it green.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Sure.” Then after a moment, I said, “I guess.” No man had ever forced himself on to me, not with Morick around. As gentle as he was, Morick was protective of those he loved. He wasn’t a good fighter, but he was big and broad.

  “What are you doing out here alone?”

  “I’m not alone. I came with Sophren on an errand for Helna.” I pressed my lips together. Maybe I should not have mentioned Sophren. Were arena servants allowed to form relationships?

  “Why has she left you?” He sounded angry. The heavy crease in his forehead almost linked his eyebrows.

  “I am capable of getting around by myself. I’m not a child.” The moment I said it, I wanted to take it back. Could I say something as rude as that to the king’s son?

  He’d saved me from those men and here I was telling him off. Hardly a good show of gratitude. But I was rattled and not because of the attack. Cerac had said I was his. Was he referring to me as a woman or to my class as a servant to the master of the arena? I did not want to be his and especially did not want him to think me so.

  His brow soon smoothed out as the muscles around his mouth relaxed into a smile. “Is this you telling me off?”

  “No. Well…yes. I don’t need a chaperone.”

  “You’re not from Railyon. You don’t understand how the city works.”

  “People are people wherever they live. Don’t think I’m innocent to bad behavior.”

  His stare became uncomfortable, so I looked at my herb bag again, wiping away as much mud as I could. Cerac snapped out of whatever held him in place and looked back out into the street. “Where is Sophren?”

  “I left her behind, intent on seeing what was along the street.”

 
“You’ve lost your companion then.”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it. Where was he going with this?

  “As confident as you may feel walking the city streets alone, I would feel better if you had an escort, at least until you are familiar with where you’re going. And since I find you all alone, it’s up to me to get you back to the arena safely.”

  He bowed like he did everything else, with panther grace, and spread his hand wide to welcome me past.

  Out on the street, I scanned ahead to the butcher’s stall but saw neither Penris or Sophren. I relaxed knowing he would not discover what she’d been doing.

  “What is in your bag?”

  “Herbs. But they are ruined now.”

  “Tell me what you had, and I will have them replaced with herbs from the king’s healer.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “I’d hate to think you were harassed for nothing.”

  I ducked my head so he wouldn’t see my smile. “There’s one thing I don’t understand.”

  “What?”

  “Why you are doing all of this?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Being so nice to me. I’m a servant and a stranger.”

  “And I’m a bastard son. You must’ve seen how much love my father and brother have for me. Even the courtiers and dignitaries treat me with disdain. They do so because the king does. I know what it is like to be lonely, Rya. I saw it in you the day you arrived. Your eyes told me you’d lost everything.” The last he said while keeping his eyes on me.

  Why did he unsettle me as much as he did? I still loved Morick. There was no room in my heart for anyone else. He was a handsome man with more manners than most and there was no emotion inside of me toward him except gratitude and friendship.

  I pushed aside my confusion. “When did you end up in your father’s care?”

  “I was an infant. I’m told my mother was dying, so she took me to the king, hoping he would accept me as his son and give me a home. I’m sure she hated him, but the people would’ve killed me otherwise. She had no choice. If I wasn’t marked, he would not have taken me in.”