Dream of Kings, page 6
Perry found me out on the balcony. He wiped a hand over his speckled forehead. “For a moment I feared you had fled.” His brows formed wedges of worry, but a soft understanding swam in his eyes.
“Have you tried to?” How much could I trust him? He certainly knew the mansion and the city better than I did. Would he help?
“That was my first instinct. Two friends fled. They were executed in the market square.” His matter-of-fact tone made the terse words that much worse.
The sultry air wrapped clammy fingers around my throat, threatening suffocation. Breathe. I just needed to breathe.
“You must understand the danger. But my reason for remaining is more than that.” Now he studied me, as if weighing how much to trust me.
I met his gaze, unblinking. “More?”
He scanned the sky. “Where I’m from, many of us serve the Lord Provider. And I realized that it was possible He allowed me to be brought here to serve Him in some way.”
My mind reeled. “Lord Provider? You mean the Provider? The Maker and Sustainer of all? You know Him?”
“You know Him?”
I nodded. “In Norgard, we thought we were the only ones who heard the truth.”
“One of our wise women has said that the Lord Provider cares for all, no matter their nation. I found it difficult to believe foreign lands knew of Him.”
I gripped the balcony railing, the earth shifting beneath me as if I’d swallowed dosed wine again. Provider? Could this be? I thought You were only the God of Norgard.
Perry laughed and lifted a palm toward the sky. “Each day of my life He surprises and amazes me.”
His joyful confidence startled me and stirred a wistful longing. I’d seen so much loss, I couldn’t describe the Provider’s actions as surprising and amazing, at least not with such delight.
“Tell me about your people. Tell me how you came to work for Duchess Ket,” I asked.
“No time now. She awaits.” Perry led me into the hallway.
Instead of heavy tapestries and panels like the Norgard castle walls, here the stucco was painted a simple white or shades of palest buttercream. Even inner hallways held many open archways, and light and shadow played tag as the breeze shifted gossamer curtains.
I followed Perry down the grand central stairs that faced the front entrance, past the small fountain, and into a side room with a vaulted ceiling, shelves of books, and windows facing a garden on the side of the mansion. Duchess Ket reclined on a broad chaise lounge, propped up by linen cushions. An end table near her held an idol of twisting waves with a small candle burning before it, sending cloying musk into the air. The Duchess’s chins blended into her neck, and when she turned, jewelry jangled from her forehead, ears, and wrists. Perry took up a position near the door, undoubtedly ready for any errand. A subtle move of his hand shooed me to the center of the room.
She yawned widely, finishing with a small squeak. “Now we’ll see what I bought. I know I dreamed last night and felt disturbed when I woke. What did I dream?”
Should I try? I closed my eyes to pray, but before I could decide, an image exploded into my mind. Avalanche! I doubled over as if being buried by what I witnessed. No, not snow. This was mud and water. Water pouring downward from a mountain. No. Upward. A small moan escaped my throat. Raging waves rolled through the city, snapping trees as if they were fragile quills, washing away whole buildings. People ran, but the maelstrom pursued them . . . through streets, past gates, up into the hills. Everything roared, along with horrific screams. I clamped my hands over my ears.
As quickly as it had come, the dream disappeared. When I opened my eyes, Ket was sitting upright, pointing a shaking finger at me. “Speak!”
“You saw a flood,” I gasped. “It means . . . it means . . .” What did it mean? No revelation came. “I don’t—”
“So you found a new one? How much did this one cost?” a deep male voice asked from behind me.
Still grappling with the overwhelming images, I turned. A tall man, burly but without the soft plumpness of the duchess, crossed his arms. Strips of silken fabric adorned his jacket, along with gold edging on every seam.
Duchess Ket waved a languid hand, as if she’d already forgotten the intensity of her dream. “This one was a bargain. Came all the way from Norgard.”
His gaze raked over me. “So the rumors are true. The women of the north are beautiful—for ignorant barbarians, that is.”
The duchess pouted. “Leave her alone. She’s the first dream teller in ages who speaks truthfully.”
“You said that about the last one.”
Ket smiled, as self-satisfied as a tundra lioness licking blood from her whiskers. “I’m sure he regrets his lies now.”
They both laughed. The duke pulled the duchess to her feet, kissing her soundly, then said, “You do have a way with meting out justice, my dear. His punishment was especially inspired.”
My stomach twisted. I glanced toward Perry, but he stared at the floor. Whatever doom met the last dream teller would soon meet me if the Provider didn’t reveal understanding of the images’ meaning. Why have You left me here in this strange place?
The duke sat heavily, tugging his wife to the chaise beside him. “Go ahead. I interrupted. What conspiracy has my wife dreamed up now? This should be entertaining.”
I decided to focus on the duchess. “You saw images of immense power. Water roaring through the city.”
Duke Ket straightened. “Power? Perhaps this dream has more merit than your last ones.”
The duchess sniffed. “Go on.”
The pleats of my dress were rough beneath my sweating palms. “This wasn’t simply about the strength of the ocean and waves. The dream showed destruction.”
“From nature? From an enemy? Was this a warning?” For all his show of skepticism, the duke’s questions hurtled at me like spears.
If I were home in the wing of the high lord’s palace, warming my hands over a small colith flame, silently waiting while a seeker unburdened herself—perhaps then the meaning would emerge. But even with vibrant remnants of the dream spinning through my memory, I had no interpretation for them.
Honesty was a core value of the dream teller guild. Knowing it might end my life, I lifted my chin. “I don’t yet know the meaning. Danger, surely. But from where, I can’t say.”
The duke surged to his feet. “Can’t? Or won’t?”
I swallowed. “It is my duty as a dream teller to share all I know. I saw the dream. I don’t know what it means.”
Duchess Ket made a purring sound and patted the cushion beside her. “Let her be. You know seers often need several dreams before they make sense of what they see.”
The duke leaned forward one more hair’s breadth, but then settled beside his wife again. “Useless manipulators, the lot of them. Go on then, what have I dreamed lately?”
I wanted to refuse, to offer some excuse. But unbidden, a searing image hummed to life in my mind. Bees. Swarms of them. And the duke was directing them toward a plunging waterfall. They circled, the sound rising to a torrent louder than water rushing over rocks. The duke, face haughty and remorseless, pointed to the cascade. The bees obeyed and rushed forward, only to be destroyed in the onslaught. The interpretation unfolded in a rare flash of knowledge. I’d just witnessed human lives cast frivolously into fruitless war. By the very man sneering at me.
“You sent them to die. You knew they wouldn’t survive.” When I realized what I’d blurted out, I clamped a hand over my mouth.
The duke’s eyes widened, then fury blazed in them. His whole body stiffened. I could feel his wrath like a pressing wind and stumbled back a step.
The duchess tugged his sleeve. “What is she talking about?”
He quickly covered the flare of reaction and patted her hand. “As I said. It’s all nonsense.”
“If you say so. Still, I think I’ll keep this one for a while.” She stroked his arm. “Did our spies in Wilddon have anything new to report this morning?”
He pinched her dimpled chin. “Dear, not in front of the servants.”
She pouted and waved me away. The duke’s baleful stare affirmed that I’d made an enemy. I bowed and hurried from the room, Perry following. I ran to the entry fountain and splashed my face, shocked that I was still standing. After blotting my skin on a handy towel, I noticed Perry still hovering near the open doorway of the duchess’s salon. With the blotches of different shades of skin and his dappled servant’s tunic, he almost disappeared into the stucco wall. He chewed his lower lip, then eased forward on soundless feet to join me.
“What did you hear?” I asked.
He put a finger over his lips and led me outside to the massive courtyard in front of the mansion. We stood by the fountain that was surrounded by glass butterfly sculptures, close enough for the mist to cool my skin.
“The fountain will cover the sounds of our words,” he whispered. “My people in Wilddon are suffering. Not only because of the Saboreen incursions, but from a kingdom farther west.” He sat on the rim of the fountain, twisting a braided metal ring. “I confess there are times my worries grow larger than my trust in the Lord Provider.”
“I can relate,” I muttered.
Perry shrugged as if pushing a heavy cloak off his shoulders. “Still, He has placed me here for a purpose. His purposes are always good. And now it’s time for breakfast. Let me show you the servants’ dining hall.”
I followed him back into the mansion but scowled to myself. His simple trust in the Provider irritated me. There was no good purpose in my husband Jesah’s death or Cimeran’s betrayal or my painful journey here with Dennu. Any worthwhile purpose would only happen if I escaped and returned to warn Norgard of the dreams.
Perry led me to an airy kitchen at the back of the mansion. Windows overlooked more gardens, walls, and a view of the ocean beyond. Fresh salt air competed with the aroma of baking bread, sizzling bacon, and a bubbling kettle of fruit compote. An assortment of servants sat on benches around a long table.
“This is Jolan, our new dream teller,” Perry said, sliding into a spot at the table.
Curious expressions greeted me—some openly hostile.
“Looks like a northerner,” someone muttered.
“Sure does. My grandfather died in a battle with them.”
“Don’t trust her. My cousin’s household had a Norgard slave that spied for the master.”
An old woman patted an open spot on her bench. “Waste no time. Kina’s food is delicious, but we have to be about our duties quickly.”
I nodded my thanks and settled beside her. She passed me a wedge from a generous loaf, then scooped a hash of bacon, onions, and potatoes on a plate for me.
“Wait.” A rail-thin man, so tall he would need to duck to get through the mansion’s doorways, hefted the kettle of compote and plunked it down in the middle of the table. Everyone applauded.
“You’ve outdone yourself today.”
“Kina, is that elemberry I smell?”
“Did you add lime rind again?”
Kina beamed, wiping his hands on a stained apron. “Now you can all dig in.”
Silverware clattered, voices overlapped, scoops of compote were dolloped on plates and sopped up with bread. Perry shoveled in his food with impressive speed.
I tasted everything and had to keep myself from eating as quickly as Perry. The hearty hash was not only salty but also had a peppery spice that heated my mouth unlike any food I’d experienced before. The compote had concentrated flavors of several of my favorite fruits, plus others I couldn’t identify. I savored a bite and couldn’t hold back a moan of appreciation.
The old woman beside me smiled approvingly. “I’m Renu, the family’s seamstress. Anything you need to know about the mansion, you can come to me.”
I swallowed another bite so I could answer, but she was already talking again. Her eyes squeezed into a permanent squint that proved how many years she’d practiced her stitchery art. “We’re all a pretty happy bunch here.”
Someone at the table snorted.
She ignored that. “Not like some of the Saboreen royal houses, mind you. Just do your job, and you’ll be fine. Kina is as skilled a cook as any, and the girl next to him is his daughter, Tosil.” She pointed to each person around the table and told me their names and more information than I could absorb. I kept eating, amazed at her ability to keep up a running commentary while still consuming her breakfast. “And don’t you be worrying about the last dream teller. I’m sure you’ll work out much better.”
She paused to take a drink of water, so I was finally able to get in a question. “What happened to your previous dream teller?”
Silence fell over the table.
Tosil, sitting near Kina, didn’t seem to notice the sudden hush and the warning glances others were exchanging. She shuddered, making her high ponytail jiggle. “The duchess didn’t like his telling. She had him cut in little pieces and scattered in the sea.”
“All gifts, no matter the kind, can serve the Provider.”
– Creeds of the Clerics, page 1
After the servants dispersed to their various tasks, I set about testing my boundaries. No further confirmation was needed. I had to escape. Betrayed and beaten down, I still wanted to live. I couldn’t become the next captive in Sabor to be chopped up and tossed into the sea.
A servant polishing banisters ignored me as I headed out the front door. Outside, a gardener trimming bushes disregarded me as well. But when I reached the gate that opened into the city, two guards blocked my way. I nodded a greeting, hoping they wouldn’t suspect my intent—after all, who would attempt an escape in broad daylight? But their scowls warned me away. Turning back toward the mansion, I followed a path around the building. All I needed was the tiniest opening. Desperation would help me disappear into the city. Although I feigned interest in the cacophony of flowers that bloomed on this side of the building, the walls surrounding the compound were my prime focus. No hidden doors. No cracks in the brickwork. No handy ladders to help me scale their heights.
The far wall offered another wrought iron gate. A small sandy beach stretched beyond it toward the ocean, its rolling waves so different from the placid lakes back home. I tried the gate, but it was locked. Too tall to climb, and the spikes on top were perilous. But I still had a few hairpins. After scanning the windows of the mansion to be sure no one was watching, I pulled one out and fidgeted with the lock.
“That’s a new one,” a deep voice said.
I spun, hiding the pin behind my back.
Duke Ket chuckled, but the low rumble in his chest was a mockery of true humor. A dark resonance coated his laugh, the tundra wolf enjoying his surveillance of a rabbit den.
“I was only—”
“Looking for escape. They all do. Why do people find it so hard to accept their place?”
My chin lifted. “I had a place. At home.” Where were these reckless words coming from? How dare I argue with the man who could have me imprisoned or killed?
A gust of wind from the sea pushed back his mane of hair. “My wife seems to believe in your skill, and replacing our dream tellers so often has become tedious. Don’t make me find another one so soon.” His gaze hardened on me. “And don’t ever speak of my dreams again.”
“You asked me—”
“Do you know what it means?”
Did he truly seek an interpretation? “You sent an army into battle, and many died. It still troubles you. There was one . . .” I closed my eyes, drawing forward an understanding, then gasped. No wonder his dream made him rage. Someone he cared about—if a man like this could truly love anyone—had been a part of that army.
He grabbed my arm, shaking me. “Don’t ever speak of this again. Especially to the duchess.”
“But why?”
He released me and quickly buried his emotion behind a façade of superiority. “You’re as stupid as the reputation of Norgard would lead me to believe. But even stupid people can be dangerous.”
Stupid? At the moment I couldn’t argue. My first escape attempt had failed utterly. Now it would take even longer to get the Ket household to lower its guard. I offered him the hairpin.
He waved it away. “You have others. Or you’ll find tools from the kitchen or garden shed. But it doesn’t matter. My guards patrol the beach. The king’s bondsman himself couldn’t pass through this gate without my authorization. Here. I’ll show you.”
He opened the gate with an ornate key, and I followed him out to the beach. Guards stepped forward from the shadows of the stone walls and greeted Duke Ket, but my attention was riveted on the sea.
The waves rolled across a sandy carpet, over and over in a rhythm that both excited and calmed. A few sea birds squawked and plummeted in and out of the water. Unbidden, my feet carried me forward, and my lungs filled with salt air. The expanse was beautiful, but so untamed. The images of Duchess Ket’s dream played through my mind. What horror could these playful waves create if they rose and swallowed the city? Was her dream that literal?
I bent and touched the warm water.
“I forgot. Being from Norgard, you haven’t seen the ocean before.” The duke stood too close behind me, but as I faced the true majesty created by the Provider, his bulk held less threat.
“Have the waves ever risen?”
“High tide sometimes approaches our walls but has never breached them.” His chest puffed out. “Nothing can.”
“I’m sure that’s a comfort to believe.” I viewed the mansion and the city beyond. Domes and spires stretched upward from the rising land, sparkling under the bright sun, competing for attention like envious courtiers. “But I’ve seen a fragment of the mightiest glacier melted by the smallest ember of colith. Everything has a weakness.”
