Anger flooded him, but it had no heat, no bite. It was like his blood was being clogged with ashes instead of flowing with fire.
And there was something very wrong with the way he wasn’t responding to the presence of a witch, broken or not.
A sour taste filled the back of his mouth, and he started to shake.
The woman stepped forward, reaching out to him. “Are you still sick?”
Jared recoiled from her touch.
“He was doing fine until you came in,” Tomas snapped.
Her eyes frosted over until they were green ice. “Be careful, little man,” she said in an awful, quiet voice before she turned around and walked out.
“Are you still sick?” Tomas asked, looking anxious. “Should I tell the Lady you need to ride in the wagon?”
Jared continued to shake. When Tomas darted for the door, he managed to grab the boy’s arm.
“No,” Jared said, forcing the word out. “I’d—I’d rather walk.” He took a deep breath. Took another. “That was Thera?”
Tomas sighed. “That was Thera.”
With one hand on Tomas’s shoulder to steady himself, Jared left the guest servants’ quarters and slowly followed the pedlar’s wagon and the wary slaves who trailed behind it.
Thera had done him a favor without realizing it. At least he understood now.
He was still male. He still had the strength of the Red Jewels. He still had his skill in using Craft. What he had lost, what the wild stranger had taken away, was the fire and passion that made a Jeweled male a Warlord.
Chapter Six
Krelis didn’t stare at Dorothea SaDiablo, nor did he avert his eyes. One action would have been considered a challenge; the other, a lack of appreciation. Either error could cost a man freedom or flesh.
Instead, he looked at the disheveled young Warlord lying on the chaise lounge with Hayll’s High Priestess.
Not a pleasure slave, Krelis decided as he studied the young Warlord’s kiss-swollen, sulky mouth. Must be one of the toy-boys, maybe even an aristo youth from one of the Hundred Families who had been given the honor of serving in Dorothea’s court. Didn’t really matter, pleasure slave or toy-boy, except the toy-boys had social status so they couldn’t be physically mistreated that much, and were still considered men. Pleasure slaves were considered geldings who still had their balls.
At least some of them did.
Dorothea gave the young Warlord one more throat-swabbing kiss before leisurely rising from the chaise lounge. “Did she take the bait?” she asked as she buttoned her gown, her hands smoothing the material over her firm, small breasts.
Krelis took a deep breath to steady himself. “Yes, Priestess—”
She cut him off with a sharp, restrained hand gesture.
Krelis’s face tightened as the young Warlord smirked at him. He understood the youth’s need to make some attempt at superiority, however temporary it might be, but a Master of the Guard was considered the dominant warrior in a court, and any undermining of his authority might lead to actions that could put his Lady at risk. The youth’s Yellow Jewel was no match for his Sapphire, and the difference in their Jewel rank was reason enough to give Dorothea’s new toy a disciplinary lesson. As for the difference in their social rank . . . If the young Warlord was an aristo from one of the Hundred Families and not from an offshoot, Krelis could become embroiled in the kind of quarrel that might lead to his dismissal—or worse.
He should have known Dorothea wouldn’t miss, or ignore, silent challenges between two males who served her.
Looking over her shoulder, Dorothea gave the youth a malevolent smile, and purred, “I won’t be long, darling. Why don’t you amuse yourself? I want you hot when I get back.”
Krelis felt no pleasure at seeing the distress in the youth’s eyes. They both knew Dorothea’s saying that in front of another man was punishment, and more humiliating than any physical discipline Krelis might have inflicted. They both knew a warrior was more valuable to the court than a handsome youth who could be replaced so easily. And they both knew what could happen if the toy-boy wasn’t ready to please Dorothea by the time she returned.
Krelis started to turn away, but Dorothea didn’t move. She continued to stare at the young Warlord until his eyes turned tear-bright and his muscles started to quiver. Swallowing hard, he opened his trousers all the way and slipped his hand inside.
Satisfied, Dorothea led Krelis out of her sitting room and began to stroll toward another wing of the SaDiablo mansion.
“So the bitch took the bait,” Dorothea said.
“Yes, Priestess.”
“But?”
Krelis’s mouth dried up. Sweat gathered in his armpits. “She disappeared. She bought passage for the westernmost station that could be reached by taking a Coach out of Raej, but when the Coach finally reached the station, it was several hours overdue and there was no one in it except the drivers. Neither of them could explain the lost hours nor what had happened to the Gray Lady and the slaves she’d purchased at the auction.”
“I see,” Dorothea said. “Has she crossed the Tamanara Mountains?”
“No, Priestess.”
“Are you sure?”
He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t about to admit that. “We’ll find her, Priestess. I swear it. I should have her location soon.”
Dorothea said nothing for a moment. Then, with a hint of distaste, “From your pet?”
“Yes, Priestess.”
Pet slaves had their uses, especially when it came to spying on other slaves. Using his status as Dorothea’s Master of the Guard, he had gone to Raej early to inspect the available slaves, and found one who had been more than willing to be a pet in order to gain whatever favors Hayll might grant.
Dorothea hadn’t been enthusiastic about his plan, but she had woven the spells he had requested, including the spells that would ensure that his pet was among those the Gray Lady purchased at Raej.
There was a lot of land between Hayll and the Tamanara Mountains, but those Territories now stood in Hayll’s shadow and would offer no safety. There were also plenty of marauder bands who were more than willing to hunt down a Queen if they were offered enough gold marks and a promise not to be hunted in turn. All he needed was the signal from his pet and he’d have the Gray bitch.
Dorothea let a heavy silence build while she led him through the hallways. Finally, she said, “Do you still have my present?”
Remembering the white feather, Krelis shuddered. “Yes, Priestess.”
“She always was a cunning bitch,” Dorothea said softly. “She might have anticipated an ambush at a station since that’s where the attack happened the last time. Did she have an escort waiting for her at any of those stations?“
“Yes. They were eliminated.”
“Good. That means she had intended to go to that station and whatever had changed her plans was unexpected—which means her court is probably just becoming aware that something went wrong.“
“She could have sent the escort to the station as a decoy.”
“She wouldn’t have sent them there just to die. Grizelle isn’t that practical.”
Unlike you? Krelis thought—then hastily buried that thought. “If she buys passage on another Coach . . .”
“There aren’t that many passes over the Tamanara Mountains. She’ll have to reach a station located near one of them and travel overland for some of the journey, no matter what she does.”
“She could ride the Winds.”
Dorothea shook her head. “She’s thwarted herself in that as much as she’s thwarted me. There’s some kind of spell that acts as a barrier across the Winds, preventing anyone from riding them into her Territory. Anyone trying to get into Dena Nehele from this side of the Tamanara Mountains has to use one of passes.”