This speech chilled me. I understood why he believed this; it had been true for Salem bin Afazi. But my situation was quite different. “I think you’ve misjudged Irene,” I said. “She does some wonderful things, Stoyan, providing opportunities for people who have none.”
He was silent awhile, then said, “Yes, kyria. What opportunity does she offer you that you do not already have?”
“Access to a library,” I said. “The chance to expand my knowledge. I’m hoping to discover something more about Cybele’s Gift.”
“Shh!” It was a fierce hiss of warning, and I heeded it, mortified that my bodyguard had needed to remind me this particular topic was not for discussion in public places.
“I’m sorry.” It came out despite me. “As I said, it seemed perfectly safe.”
“You believe you are in no danger because you are in a private house or garden? That shows how ignorant you are of this city and of the perils that lie in wait for the unwary.”
“Don’t call me ignorant!” I snapped. How dare he? My scholarship was my one great strength, and to dismiss it thus was, in effect, to call me worthless. How would Stoyan know anyway? A man like him was incapable of understanding how far learning could take one. “A man who earns a living with his fists should not be so ready to dismiss the opinions of an educated woman,” I added. It came out sounding terribly pompous, and I was instantly ashamed of myself, but it was too late to take it back. The silence between us was almost vibrating with tension. After a while, when the time of devotions drew to a close and the street began to fill up with folk again, we walked back to the han an arm’s length apart, and neither of us spoke a word.
Run! My chest heaved. A cold sweat of utter terror chilled my skin. Which way? Openings yawned to the left and right of the dark passage. I stood frozen a moment, then chose a path at random and pushed myself on. Ancient webs draggled down to cling in my hair; small things skittered around my ankles and crunched under my feet in the gloom. Run! Run! A strong hand gripped mine, tugging me forward. Behind me pounded the heavy feet of the pursuers. They were gaining on us. Run! But I could go no farther. I bent double, gasping, and my guardian’s hand slipped out of my hold. The darkness descended. All was shadow. Which way was onward and which way back? I thought I could feel the enemy’s breath hot on my neck. His steps had slowed. Now his tread was the prowl of a creature about to pounce….
“Father!” I cried out. “Stoyan!” I sat up abruptly, my heart going like a hammer. Beyond the door of my tiny sleeping chamber, nothing was stirring. Perhaps I had shouted only in my dream. One thing was certain—I wasn’t staying in here by myself one instant longer.
I threw on a cloak over my nightrobe and stumbled out to the gallery, almost walking into Stoyan, who was standing by the railing, fully dressed.
“Kyria,” he murmured, stretching out his hands to halt my wild progress. “You walk in your sleep. Come, sit here.”
I obeyed. Seated on one of the little chairs overlooking the darkened and empty courtyard, I couldn’t stop shaking. It had all been so real—the shadows, the flight, the menacing presence….
Stoyan crouched in front of me as he had the first time I met him and put his big hands around mine to steady me. Gradually the shivering subsided and my breathing slowed.
“Kyria,” he said, “the night guard has a little brazier down below and a kettle. I will fetch tea for you. You wish me to wake Master Teodor?”
“No, please, don’t worry him. I’m fine. I had a nightmare, that’s all. I just don’t want to be by myself in there right now. Did I scream?”
“No, kyria, or more than I would have woken. Sit quietly. I will not be far away. You can see the man from here, and his fire.”
“Thank you. Tea would be good.”
What he fetched tasted more like sugar syrup than anything, but I drank it gratefully. The glass shook in my hands. Stoyan refilled it without comment. At last he said, “This happens often? Night terrors, sleepwalking?”
“Night terrors, no. My sisters used to tell me I walked in my sleep. They kept our bedchamber door bolted so I would be safe. There are lots of steps at Piscul Dracului, and some of them are very uneven.”
“Piscul Dracului. That is a strange name for a house.”
“It’s an old castle in the forest. The name could be translated as Dragon’s Peak or Devil’s Peak. It’s isolated. Full of strange surprises.”
Stoyan nodded, not pressing for further explanations.
“That dream was horrible,” I said. “Someone was chasing me. Underground, a dark, deep place with many ways and no map to say which was right. I knew the moment they caught me they would kill me.”
He took my hand again. Here in the darkness, with the city sleeping all around us, the rules of custom that would have made this improper didn’t seem to apply. His touch warmed me.
“You spoke my name,” Stoyan said. “Your father’s, and then mine. In your dream.”
“I was awake by then. I’ve never been so glad to wake up.”
“I could swear you were still asleep when you walked out here. I thought you would go over the railing.”
“It felt so real. Someone was holding my hand, pulling me forward. And someone was coming after us….”
Stoyan got up, fetched his blanket, and put it around my shoulders over my cloak. “Better?” he asked.
“Much better, Stoyan. Thank you. I’m sorry to be such a nuisance and disturb your sleep. I don’t usually go to pieces like this. I’m generally quite a capable person.” His opinion of me must have plummeted today. First my unpleasant remark on the walk home, and now this.
“I know you are capable, kyria.”
“Stoyan?” It was time to swallow my pride.
“Yes, kyria?”
“I’m sorry I was so unpleasant to you before, when we were walking home. What I said was inappropriate and offensive.”
“You are forgiven. Besides, I am your hired guard. You may say whatever you wish to me.”
“It doesn’t give me an excuse for bad manners. I’m not used to servants, Stoyan. I felt quite awkward at Irene’s house when she told me some of her folk are slaves. At home, the old couple who look after things for us are viewed as part of the family. Occasionally, if they’re feeling put out about something, they address me as Mistress Paula, but mostly they just use my name.”
“It sounds a good place, this Dragon’s Peak.”
“It’s an interesting place. Both the castle and the wildwood around it are very old.”
“You are fortunate to have so many sisters still living. And now some have husbands and children, Master Teodor tells me. Your father is blessed.”
I wondered about that. There had been sorrows aplenty for Father: the death of our mother when Stela was born, the tragic accident that had claimed Uncle Nicolae, the loss of my sister Tati to a realm from which she could never return. But what Stoyan said was true all the same. Jena’s and Iulia’s children had brought a new richness to Father’s life.
“The five of us were very close, growing up. We had exciting times. Adventures.” I would not tell him of our visits to the Other Kingdom. We guarded that story with great care for fear of being misunderstood. “Do you have brothers or sisters, Stoyan?”
“Perhaps you should try to sleep, kyria. It is late.”
“I don’t want to sleep. I’m afraid the nightmare will come back. But there’s no need for you to stay awake with me.”
“I will stay.”
He leaned against the wall by my chair, arms folded. After a little, he said quietly, “I had two brothers. One died at five years old in an accident. The other was taken in the dev shirme, the collecting. You know of this?”