Don't Read in the Closet: Volume Four (33 page)

cool and distant. “Captain, I obey your simple orders.”

Ivar fixed his flinty gaze against Tahir’s black challenge. He

shook his head in profound mockery. “With your sword strapped

around your dainty hips?”

How many times must he endure insults? Tahir’s intense

annoyance leaked free. His voice barely remained civil. “Pray tell,

Captain, where else should I strap my scabbard?”

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A well-worn sneer twisted Ivar’s features. “Around your head as a

gag is my first clever suggestion. You ignorant sand dolt, you cannot

travel past the first stance wearing a long blade unless you are noble

or a guard. You are obviously neither, and I fear never will be either.

Remove your precious sword and hand the blade to Brother Bergil.”

Tahir almost arrogantly corrected the disgruntled captain but he

halted himself. His thoughts rang clear. Calm down. Shut up. Do not

make an enemy of this irritating man. Tahir inhaled a centering

breath. He unstrapped his belt, handed his sword to the amused guard

and directed his unruly anger back into its cage. Good. He respectfully

ducked his head. “Forgive me, Captain. I did not know the city rules.”

“Now you do, you touchy Curamian dolt. Get out of my sight. By

the Gods, if you cause trouble at the palace, you’ll answer to me, you

miserable sandworm.”

An annoyed huff refused to halt. Too bad. One last glare darted

toward Ivar before Tahir bowed stiffly and followed Bergil from the

practice area. Damn, when did he turn into a common idiot? He had

already endured enough base treatment in his life. His fury peaked and

muttered into defeat. Tahir needed to calm down, he needed to remain

unobtrusive.

His mind screamed a summons to the palace hardly counted as

unobtrusive. Tahir may as well strip, paint himself red and perform a

Curamian mating dance. This command defined wrong. Why did he

come here? Why?

The same answer beat in his proud heart. Here a man could be

anything he wanted. Here a man was welcome to prove himself. Here

a man’s skill gained him success.

Here no one put a price on Tahir’s innocent head.

The guard and Curamian walked through the busy streets. They

passed through the three gates separating the city’s lower mass from

the thrusting middle. Tahir observed the interesting changes from the

warrior’s gate to the market place to the trader’s realm. Buildings

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looked finer, the gardens bloomed in greater majesty and, best of all,

once away from the lower sewers, the warm air smelled sweeter. The

first stance looked fine and airy. The many fascinating sights slowly

quelled Tahir’s anger and sent his curious gaze spinning left and right.

The grand sights awed him.

Bergil glanced back at the observant man and smiled. “Stormhelm

is quite a marvelous place.” He handed Tahir the sheathed sword. “I

trust you to carry this weapon. You don’t look like you plan to stab

me in the back.” Bergil hesitated again. “Listen, don’t let old Ivar

grind you down. I also trained under his charming personality.

Remember above all he wants his charges to act responsive and

obedient. Here’s my advice; keep your mouth shut, say ‘yes sir’ or ‘no

sir’ when needed, and you’ll be fine.”

Tahir sighed and shook his head in frustration. “I find that is my

biggest problem, Sir.”

“I noticed the sad detail. Remember, learn to control yourself or

you won’t make the guard rank. Keep the consequences in mind.”

Another small sigh escaped Tahir’s lips. “Yes, Sir.”

A long flight of wide, sweeping steps led to the grand third stance.

Pedestrians stepped aside for the guard. Tahir’s feet faltered. His stare

continuously danced upward over the many grand buildings crafted in

fine marble, granite or limestone. Brass and copper decorations

twisted along walls in wild abandon. Brilliant flowers sporting bright

hues draped from hanging pots and spilled along cleverly designed

iron balconies. Up here the civilized city looked different from

anything in Curamia.

Except for Zantarta, the stern Curamia cities displayed adobe and

sun-baked bricks. Even the grandest Zantartain buildings offered the

viewer dusty, dark atmosphere. No greenery decorated Zantarta since

water was too precious to waste on forcing flowers to bloom. Grim

Zantarta aspired to grandness but…despite the heat Tahir shivered.

Forget foul Zantarta. Forget the wretched time spent in that nightmare

city.

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Bergil directed them along a tall white marble wall sprawling in

vast length. Finely carved friezes depicting epic history, power and

bravery systematically broke the stern expanse. This must be the

palace’s legendary Honor wall, a wonder spoken about even in his

land. The white marble contrasted with the obsidian structure soaring

behind the height. Sheer excitement shook Tahir’s nerves.

A brisk walk brought them to a small gate huddled at the wall’s

far corner. Bergil nodded to the inner guard. “Greetings, Brother

Hardolar, I have brought Tahir Noname.”

“Yes, Brother Bergil, he is expected. Come, Tahir Noname, and

enter in peace.”

Bergil offered Tahir a quick smile. “Good luck, Tahir.”

At least the elegant palace guards possessed manners. Tahir

bowed in response to both guards. Should he call them Brother or sir?

Wait. Only fellow guards addressed each other as brother. He opted

for sir although he doubted if every guard held knight rank. Sir

seemed safe for everyone. “Thank you, Sir Bergil and yes, Sir

Hardolar, I do come in peace.”

Bergil patted Tahir’s shoulder before he turned away.

Once through the gate Tahir followed the stoic Hardolar into the

back corner of the central courtyard. The guard’s grand black and

silver cape fluttered in the growing breeze. His silver helmet reflected

the passing scenery. Not a fingerprint or dull spot marred the finish.

The slim steel spear he carried glowed like a beacon. Tahir mused a

palace guard must spend a great deal of time polishing. He darted his

glance down. Even the brown leather sandals gleamed. How did the

guard not sweat in the day’s heat? Did the man’s tanned, muscular

chest resist sweat? Tahir feared if not sweating made one a palace

guard, he already failed.

The legendary royal gardens emerged before Tahir. Flowering

plants soared up on tall terraces and spires. Bloom-laden vines

perfumed the air. Lush roses capturing a rainbow of colors nodded

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atop brass trellises. In one corner, boisterous purple blossoms grew as

large as melons. Tahir halted and gasped in pleasure.

Hardolar noticed Tahir’s pause. “Quite a stirring sight, eh? The

living grace never fails to move me. The royal garden displays rare

plants from across the entire continent. There are plants in here found

nowhere else. Now come along.”

Tahir ceased gaping and followed Hardolar further back into a

maze of black walls. He felt he walked in a waking dream. In contrast

to the obsidian, carved marble panels in various light hues offered

relief from the forbidding darkness. Flowers peering from colorful

vines softened the black walls in dazzling living counterpoints. The

pair reached another side gate and walked through two more gates.

After too many turns the confused recruit feared he’d never find his

way back out.

Hardolar stopped and gestured to another gate. Decorative runes

danced along the green marble pillars. The gate looked carved from

steel. The guard unlocked three locks. “Wait in there.”

“Thank you, Sir Hardolar.” Another bow seemed appropriate.

Tahir stepped through the impressive gate. A pleasantly shady space

beckoned to him. How fine; an octagonal practice area filled his

curious sight. Yet instead of the hot sun beating on the sand, a series

of flowering vines bearing slender pink blooms hung overhead, they

allowing in light but creating welcome shade.

Even as Tahir gazed at the vines in relief, he wrestled with

unwelcome dread. The king had summoned him.

A voice caressed his hearing. “Gustav is on his way; his last

meeting ran late.”

Tahir almost leapt in fear, he whirling to see a slim albino leaning

against the shade-dappled wall. The man looked carved from pure

ivory bone. The startled recruit bowed low. “Sir! Forgive me… the

lovely overhead canopy fascinated me to distraction. I did not see you

resting there.”

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“No matter. I am Duke Jan deWither, one of the King’s old

friends from Ashwood Glen. I arrived for a visit this week. Gustav

asked me to assist him in teaching you a special move.”

“My Duke!” Tahir swept into a deep bow. Ashwood Glen? Did he

stand in the presence of a Septian wizard from Domas?

Jan walked to stand beside Tahir. He nodded up toward the

brilliant flowers. “This canopy is one of my cleverer ideas. After we

sent the Usurper packing, aside from sorely diminished royal gardens,

the grim city lacked healthy gardens and living grace. We worked to

bring greenery to Stormhelm’s various stances. The queen aided my

efforts. I am attuned to water, Aglaia is attuned to earth. She works

magic with plants. I added a few tricks to ensure the proper watering.”

Merry humor shone in his dark red eyes.

Definitely a wizard yet a friendly one, not what Tahir expected

from someone powerful. Tahir swallowed back awe. “How generous

of you to help, my duke. I admired the gardens on the walk up; they

are lovely. You are extremely wise to coax grace into this imposing

city.”

“Thank you, Tahir. Planning the gardens and greenery with Aglaia

satisfied my soul. I wanted the city to be a place of beauty and peace.”

Quick birdcalls emerging from the exuberant vines broke the

silence. Tahir breathed in deeply, he enjoying the subtle scent of the

trailing blossoms and an odd sense of contentment. This pale duke

conquered his reason. Instead of unnerving Tahir, something in Duke

deWither’s ancient presence soothed his inner fire. How odd. How

welcome.

Tahir’s fascinated gaze studied the duke’s pale face. “May I ask

you a question, Duke deWither?”

“Of course, Tahir.”

Tahir smiled in agreement. “Are you a Septian wizard?”

“I am. I enjoy visiting my old comrades but my Selkie Noa always

draws me home to the sea.”

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Tahir almost choked in awe. “A Selkie?”

Laughter echoed against the stones and startled the birds. “Don’t

look startled. Selkies are not the dangerous beasts portrayed in those

cruel tales. They are loving, gentle beings. Noa hates leaving the

nurturing sea for too many days, which is why he seldom visits here.

We live in a wonderful house tucked beside the Santnono Sea.”

“How amazing, my duke!

A husky voice invaded the warm air. “What is amazing?” Both

turned to see Gustav arrive clad in his leather practice jerkin.

Upon seeing the king, Tahir swiftly bowed. All this bowing made

him dizzy. “Sire.”

“Tahir acted curious about my life.”

“It appears I saved him from you prattling on for hours about dear

Noa.” As he spoke, Gustav winked in jest. “Tahir, let’s get you into a

practice jerkin.”

“Yes, Sire.” Tahir quickly stripped off his cotton vest and bared

his torso. He almost winced when Gustav helped him with the jerkin’s

side buckles.

Once he deemed Tahir properly protected, Gustav succumbed to

his burning desire and gently, slowly squeezed those sinfully proud

shoulders. Supple leather straps and living warmth caressed his palms.

Tahir smelled sharp and natural like a dangerous summer

thunderstorm. The urge to taste boy flesh nearly undid his nerve.