Read Passion of the Different Online

Authors: Daniel A Roberts

Passion of the Different (14 page)

Chapter Twenty - Frustration

Large stained glass windows created huge shafts of multicolored light all through the large throne room. While it wasn't the brightness of summer, the pale luminescence of winter gave the colors a ghostly quality. The splendor of artwork on the far walls and tables with richly adorned chairs were all focused into bringing attention to the most important place in the room, the gold gilded throne and the queen who sat upon it. Elevated higher off the ground than everything else to show her position and prestige, she tapped her fingers on the arm of the throne in silent contemplation of the current situation.

Darya wore a dark blue dress with golden thread, the tiara sparkled with various gems and sat in her blue streaked auburn hair as if it was designed by nature itself for the highly beautiful woman beneath it. Her expression and cold attitude robbed the display of any true royal splendor as did the huge man in shackles who stood before her, a small army of armed soldiers making sure he didn't make anymore violent moves.

"You killed one of my spies," Darya commented, as if remarking on the day's weather. "Elerians are defenders and sometimes boring pacifists, not cold blooded killers. What say you?"

"As you noticed when we first met, I'm no Elerian," Ryan responded just as casually, feeling for the first time as if he could finally open up the channels to a forming opportunity. He had to cater to her now, get on her good side without giving in to her primary demands. He knew she didn't give a crap about her spy, but now he could play it by ear and make her think they were on the same level to some degree. "Avrohom was my enemy before I met you, the opportunity presented itself to rid the world of a traitor. Tell me honestly, my queen, could you have done any less to one of your subjects the moment you learned they turned against you?"

"An excellent point," she conceded, her lovely dark eyes flaring with pleasure at hearing him refer to her as
my queen
. Then she gestured and two more men in shackles were brought into the throne room. Without the armor and stripped to their underclothes, it took Ryan a moment to recognize the two palace guards who had escorted Avrohom. "What about their failure, Lord Za'Ryan? What would those of House Ven'Krue do with guards who let their charge get killed?"

Ryan regarded the two hapless men and their faces were lowered in shame. His wits seized upon the moment and formed his words without delay. "Considering the scum they escorted, an ass and proved traitor regardless of whom he served, I would have given them a raise in pay and a fancy title. Avrohom wasn't worth the water to wash his filth away in, and I'd be glad to have men who knew the value of such things. Intelligent guards. Who would have seen that coming?"

A genuine look of surprise crossed Darya's features and she started to laugh. The genuine humor she felt brought a moment of humanity to her features, as if she enjoyed a pleasant joke. For that brief moment her natural beauty magnified ten fold and Ryan internally felt a swelling of pity for this woman before him. If her soul had been normal, if her heart wouldn't have been so laced with evil, she could have seduced him. It would have taken effort of course, he had a wife he truly didn't want to betray. The moment passed and the humor leeched out of her expression as she regarded the shackled guards.

"Fine," Darya concluded with dark authority. "Unshackle those two and have them approach the throne."

As they were released from their irons, both men looked at Ryan with something close to respect. Without hesitating the moment they were free, they went to one knee at the foot of the throne side by side. Queen Darya rose and stood on the top of the three short steps that led to the gold gilded seat and its comfortable cushion. She spread her arms, palms up as she made her announcement. "For your excellent service to the kingdom as
intelligent
palace guards, you have both earned the title of
Traitor Slayer
from this day forward. Arise Zon'Jal and Merd'Fen and delight in double pay while in my service."

They rose and stood, awestruck as she walked down two steps. She was a head taller than they were at that level and she leaned forward and placed her lips on each of their foreheads. Status returned and given the unexpected high honor of her royal kiss, they both snapped to attention. Darya nodded to them in dismissal and flashed a gorgeous smile. With sharp precision they turned and left the throne room. Then her attention settled on Ryan, lovely cold dark eyes now unreadable.

"Has
your
queen pleased you?" she asked sweetly.

"That she has," he responded with grudging respect.
Good
, he thought,
she isn't letting that slide just like I wanted.

"Has your queen pleased you enough to grant her what she wishes from you?" Her tone was now sultry, those lovely eyes focused on him with unhidden desire. Any lesser man would have caved in right there and then.
Careful
, his thoughts warned him,
say this wrong or slip up just a little and your wife and unborn child are as dead as you are.

"You have delivered my enemy to his death by
my
hand," he told her in a formal tone of voice. "You have also showed honor in properly rewarding those two men," he continued. "You are worthy to bear my child." Darya's face lit up and she opened her mouth to say something cheerful but he cut her off quickly. "But you have not
earned
my love for such a thing to happen. Understand, with my people," he lied, "I must love a woman as much as I respect her to give of my essence." He felt that was true to a degree, but it wasn't necessarily a requirement. With his amnesia he was never one hundred percent sure, but it felt like a long stretch of the truth. If
he
didn't know for sure, he knew for a fact she would be totally clueless. She would either trust him or not on his word alone, which would be the fine line between success in his manipulation attempt or a tragic death.

Darya's sharp face clouded over, mixed thoughts chasing themselves through her mind. She reflected carefully on his words, then went and sat back on the throne with dejected quickness. At first he thought he went too far and pushed the wrong mental buttons, but she clarified to his relief that he didn't get himself or anyone else he cared for killed.

"You're a frustrating man," Darya accused Ryan with the bold royal tone of doing business. "First you impress the hell out of me by sneaking into my kingdom and finding your way into my breakfast garden. That couldn't have been an easy feat for one of your size. You earned my respect for that. Then I offer myself to you, something dozens of nobles have died trying to get for themselves for years. Your hesitation and refusal angered me quite a bit." Ryan went to speak, she held up her hand to silence him. "Shut up. Keep your lips sealed if you know what's good for you." He nodded and listened to the rest of her rant.

"So instead of killing you, hoping your senses would clear up, I put you in my dungeon to
think
about it. What do I get for my troubles? A dead spy." She drummed her fingers a moment on the throne's large arm rest again. Her eyes flared then settled down. "Your wisdom impressed me on this subject. I agree with you on Avrohom's disgusting existence. Once a traitor always a traitor, I would have had to kill him anyways in the future. Then you made me laugh. I haven't had a good laugh in a long time, but your view of my palace guards was one I never expected. So I did as you asked to prove your requests do have value with me. Now I have to
earn
your love to bear an heir through you? How does a woman do such a thing with a large
confusing
handsome man like yourself? What say you now, Lord Za'Ryan?"

Given permission to speak at last, he picked up his shackled wrists and rattled the chains, then packed his deep voice with as much regret as he could stomach. "This is certainly not the way to start, my queen."

She locked eyes with him but it wasn't a contest of wills. She was trying to read him, to see how much deceit he was putting into his words. He summoned all the compassion he could by thinking of his beautiful Myra and his child and let that flow through his light blue eyes. He knew Darya would never know the true source of those feelings, she was incapable of understanding such things.

In her mind, he was being as honest as he could for his freedom and continued existence with his Elerian bitch. His large eyes were like the summer sky and the warmth they projected was moving her feelings down a path they never went before. She internally shook it off and decided he wasn't lying after all. He was a good doer like all Elerian weaklings, but had his own code that was alien to everyone. She could respect that. Such a strength of body as well as spirit powerfully motivated her to ensure this quality would pass on to her own child, but shaped and molded through a solid upbringing so the weaknesses of compassion were well weeded out.

She couldn't allow him to roam free wherever he wanted, but to earn his so-called love, it was one of his requirements. Damn him. She would have to consult with her advisers and weigh the options. She needed more than what her mind immediately seized upon. First thought was to grant him his wish but under heavy escort. Then once she was pregnant it would be alright to kill him and his pregnant wife. Once she had what she wanted, neither of them would really be required anymore. Second thought was to go ahead and kill him and wait for his child to be born, then kill the mother. Raise it as her own. The major downside is the child wouldn't be of her blood line. An option yes, but not a desirable one. She needed more angles to consider but he couldn't be free of the dungeon, at least not yet.

"Put him back in his quarters for now," Darya ordered, looking unhappy. "I have much to consider before winter is done."

As Ryan was led away he did his best not to smile and show any amount of victory on his face. Phase one was a success as the seeds of his requirements were planted. Now he hoped he would survive phase two of this growing plan. One step closer to true freedom for him and his family. It was a fragile thing, likely to fail as much as work, but it was certainly better than nothing.

Chapter Twenty One - Dinner Time

He wasn't in his cell for an hour before another small regiment arrived and re-shackled him for travel. There were no palace guards among them, they wore the armors of the standard prison staff. So he wasn't surprised when they escorted him only a short distance through the dungeon and into a large comfortable room. A roaring fireplace kept the area warm and there was a large table filled with food. Four of the guards took up positions in the corners and a fifth approached him with a key. Several clicks later the shackles were off both ankles and wrists, and the guard who took them glanced a golden eyed warning against mischief, then left without saying a word.

"Please have a seat," a woman's accented voice said from across the room. He turned and was surprised to see Nera enter through a door on the other side. She was wearing a light red blouse with a set of black leather pants with matching black boots. There was a sword and dagger on her belt and light blue hair flowed freely around her shoulders.

"Thank you," he replied carefully, rubbing his wrists.

"Don't mention it," she said casually, regarding him from the corner of her eye as she crossed the room and took a seat. The table was long but narrow, and the empty chair on the opposite side would have her within his arm's reach. It was obvious to him she wasn't afraid and he couldn't figure out why. Alone, his size and muscular build intimidated the hell out of these people just by existing. "Really, please sit and enjoy dinner," she added after seeing his hesitation.

He approached his seat and saw the fork next to an empty plate. She started to serve herself and he understood right away. In fact, he felt more comfortable knowing he could choose his own food without having her freak out on him. As he sat and selected various fruits and a few vegetables he liked, he was watching Nera watch him right back. Nothing in her expression gave a hint of motivation for this meal, but she did take the initiative in starting the conversation.

She picked up her fork and knife and went to slice one of the larger vegetables, then hesitated. "My apologies," she said as if they ate dinner on a daily basis. "My men are just trying to protect me, but I know better. Use this to carve your food." She unsheathed her long dagger and set it down next to his plate.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, eying the dagger as if it was a trap of some sort.

"Oh hell," she said with a smile that reached her eyes. "I owe your wife a silver coin. Myra said you would ask that under these conditions."

"What?" he said, a little too loudly. While his voice didn't bother her, she had to wave back the guards who started forward from the corners of the room. "She's here?"

"No," Nera replied, apologetic and sincere both. "Keep your voice calm please. My men are nervous beyond measure right now with you here and unshackled. With me. Having a nice dinner. Don't make me regret bringing you here."

He inhaled deeply and nodded, realized there was far more to this new development than he could see right now. Alright, he would play along to see what would come of it. "When did you see her?" His tone was more under control and she relaxed.

"My men guarded her in the queen's retreat when she first arrived," Nera explained carefully. "When winter comes, the guards trade their posts including their commanders. I talked with her and got to know her a little, though at first I thought she was merely lying about you."

This was a lot at once for him to take in, but he nodded and accepted all the information he could get. "Is her cell like mine? I can't stand the idea of my child born behind bars if she delivers early."

"Actually, she's in a luxury apartment as the queen ordered. All guards and a locked door, but comfortable and a quality staff that serves three meals a day," she assured him. "You must understand that Darya is more lenient towards women than she is to men by far. Now take a bite before I do get offended, that
is
my cooking there. The staff here can't fix a decent meal because they're used to prison recipes."

Ryan relaxed but kept his mental guard up as he took a mouthful, using the dagger to slice off a bite sized portion. It was razor sharp and it hit him that she did this because she trusted him for some reason. He needed to know more about that, so he decided to feel out her motives even more.

"Why did you talk to her, or even to me for that matter?" he asked kindly, shifting his tone to a lower key to show he was relaxing in this situation.

"Unlike other wardens, I like to know who is in my prison," she explained, glad to have his attention on this subject. "I like to know which ones are innocent and which ones are guilty of what got them locked up in the first place. I can't do anything about
how
they got there, but I can make their stay comfortable or a living hell. Depending on their crime, of course."

"So you know I'm not a criminal," he said, understanding her somewhat better. "And my wife is also a victim. Is that all you intend to do, make us comfortable as long as we behave?"

"Of course," she replied, then cocked one of her eyebrows. "I'm no traitor, I can't
do
anything about your freedom. You did recently misbehave and killed a visitor, though."

"Let me explain," he started but she shushed him with a wave of her hand.

"No need, Lord Za'Ryan," Nera responded, a serious look crossing her delicate features. "I was in the
listeners
hidden balcony during your interview with Darya today. It wasn't until that moment that I realized Myra spoke the truth about you. That I realized even with a dagger in your hand in my prison, you wouldn't kill me or any other innocent person, even to try an escape."

"That is a dangerous thing to assume," he replied, again careful to how he worded his response. "Freedom is worth dying over."

"I know," Nera said between bites. "If I thought you wanted to escape, you'd still be in shackles and my dagger wouldn't be carving the food you eat by your own hand. No, fleeing this place isn't your plan. If it was you would have been out of here long ago and your wife and child possibly dead before you could get to them."

Ryan sat up straighter and gave her a respectful hard look. "Nera, my apologies indeed. You're a lot smarter than I gave you credit for. It also means my goals aren't achievable by these means."

"Why not?" she replied, looking puzzled. "Just because I got you figured out doesn't mean anyone else does."

"Wrong," he groaned, rubbing his forehead. "If you can see through me so quickly, it won't be long before Darya or anyone else who serves her figures me out too."

"Not really," she offered, then explained after she washed down her final bite with a cup of sweet juice. "Everyone else hasn't spoken to your wife like I have, they think you're as narrow minded and self centered as any other man out there. After you not only saved, but elevated Zon'Jal and Merd'Fen in the queen's eyes, I know you're as honorable as Myra claims."

"You mean those two palace guards?" he replied. She nodded as he continued, "I felt bad about getting them in trouble. Their presence did make my case easier to present though, and for that I owed them. Understand one thing about me, Nera. I reward those who help me as much as I hurt those who are against me. If this goes like I hope, I'll have Darya anxious to do everything I ask within reason. I'm not beyond putting in a rewarding word for you if and when that time comes."

Nera took a moment to think about it, then shook her head. "No, don't get me recognized. When whatever you're going to do doesn't get you in bed with my queen, everything she granted is liable to be reversed. Especially in blood if there's a living name attached to it."

Ryan smiled at her, his face finally showing a measure of hope that his goals and methods might actually go unchanged. "You won't have to worry about that, Nera, I promise. The impasse won't be my fault this time, but Darya's. Trust me, her inability to have sex with me will be
her
problem in the end. Not mine or anyone else for that matter."

"How?" she asked, wonder and amusement combined.

"You'll have to wait and see," he said, honestly apologetic. "I revealed a lot more than I cared to tonight, I don't want my plans foiled by guards with overly keen ears."

"These guys?" Nera said, trying not to laugh out loud as she gestured to the guards in the far corners of the room. "You have a lot to learn about our people, Lord Za'Ryan. Unlike the Elerians, we have more than one husband. We're a female oriented society, always have been and always will be. Unless they want to be divorced and put into the street penniless, they'll keep their mouths shut unless I say otherwise."

"They're
all
married to you?" he said with no small amount of wonder in his tone. Culture shock aside, this took him by complete surprise.

"Who better to serve and protect the warden than a roomful of loyal husbands, right?" she announced with a grin and taking delight in his genuine reaction. "Listen," she encouraged warmly. "Our two countries may be at war. On the battlefield we may be enemies, but we really don't have to hate each other. So what do you say, Lord Za'Ryan? Can we at least be friends?"

"Indeed," he replied, picked up his cup of juice and saluted her with it before taking a drink. She returned the gesture and gave a sincere smile. What type of friend he had made, Ryan wasn't sure. Genuine friendship meant a lot to him and he had to make sure she wasn't lying on some level to better serve her queen. As for now, he can only prepare for the worst while hoping for the best.

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