The Servant's Heart Read online

  Iolyn nodded, but I could tell he didn't believe me. I would have to step carefully around him. "I hope there are no feelings of ill-will between us. I find your treatment of the royal pain-in-the-ass amusing."

  I blinked and felt a smile creep across my face.

  He smiled back. "You have secrets, but I won't pry." He stood up. "When I woke you up this morning, your accent was pretty heavy."

  I suddenly felt numb all over.

  He walked over, and squat down next to me, putting a hand under my chin. "Veneseran, am I right?" He smiled. "I know quite a bit about Veneser, and I'd bet three gold crowns that you aren't more than eighteen -- no matter how mature you seem.

  "Veneser trains its servants early and I'm guessing you were what, three, four? Just old enough to walk and say yes sir, no sir. Fetch and carry."

  I couldn't say anything, speaking would just confirm his suspicions, not speaking would do the same thing. Damn it.

  "It's okay, you don't have to say anything, but I saw the scars on your back when I beat you." He squeezed my shoulder. "You ever decide you want to be something other than a houseboy, you come see me." He stood up, and walked away. So he hadn't seen the one on my chest?

  I felt a chill run all over me and took a shaking breath. All my secrets -- my new life would unravel in moments if he chose to say something. But somehow, I didn't think he would. My interest was piqued. I got up, and headed back to my rooms. I needed to lie down.

  ***

  I hid my book with my blades. I practiced erasing every inch of my accent. I spent my time with milady with the most care toward correctness. I would not be at Iolyn's hands again. The prince watched me with amusement. I still thought he was a fool, that wouldn't change anytime soon.

  "Terence, you've been so dour lately, well, more so than usual. Is there anything wrong?" Linnaea asked, sipping her tea. She spent the mornings alone -- to think, she'd told me once. Come afternoon she'd be surrounded by her usual gaggle of ladies sewing and chatting about men. You would think gently reared girls would not know so much about the opposite sex, but on more than one occasion comments had been made that would curl even my hair.

  "Nothing is wrong, milady."

  "You can speak your mind with me, Terence, I won't have you beaten." She frowned, "I am sorry about that. Jasper was most insistent."

  "Milady--"

  "Are you in love with me, Terence?" Her bright green eyes locked onto mine.

  I blinked and tried not to laugh. "No, milady. I am not. Even if I had the inclination, my heart is broken." I closed my eyes and opened them again, Anna...

  "Who did you lose?"

  "My sister." Why did I tell her that?

  "Having a chat with the help, Linnaea?" The prince sauntered into her chambers and sat down in the chair opposite her, pouring himself a cup of tea. He lounged, one leg swung over the side of the armrest, which meant I could see the mud on his boots. I held back a sigh. He took a sip and winked at me.

  I locked my eyes to the floor and said nothing.

  "Leave him be, Jasper. He only said what needed saying, and you had no right to put him in that position," she rebuked.

  "Ah, my lily, you protest." The prince took a drink and I could feel his eyes on me. "I just can't help but hate those parties. I don't like to hide behind masks, pretending to be something I'm not."

  I felt a chill run all over my body. He was talking to me. He knew something... he was provoking me. I took a quick glance up, saw that he was watching me, and I glanced back down at the floor. But I saw him flash a smile. What did he know?

  My throat felt hot. "Is that all, milady?"

  "Yes, Terence, you may go."

  I bowed, and left the room as quickly as I could.

  What did he know?

  ***

  In a temperamental mood, I got my blades out and went out to practice. I practiced in the forest -- in a small clearing near a ruined shrine no one went to anymore. The pair of curved blades were the full length of the curved ebony handles, eight inches of fine steel. Working through the exercises made me feel complete. The blades were a part of me, extensions of my body. Fighting with them was a dance. The music of the blades slicing through the air was comforting.

  I finished up and folded my blades back into their handles, tucking them into the back of my waistband, my tunic hid the bulge of the slender blades. I splashed water on my face from the shrine fountain and started back toward the palace. I felt energized.

  As I neared the palace stables, milady and her prince rode out. "Your highness, milady." I bowed.

  "Terence. I'm taking a ride into the forest with Jasper."

  Instinct told me this was unwise. "Are you certain that is wise, milady? There have been reports of bandits in the woods, perhaps a group of guardsmen..."

  "Worried about your lady, Terence?" the prince baited.

  "You could ride with me if you are worried, Terence," she said softly.

  "I am a poor horseman, milady."

  "No, you shall ride with us," the prince exclaimed. He whistled sharply and a stableman peeked out. "We need a horse for the boy, a steady one." He glanced at me and smirked. "Something that won't throw him."

  The stableman nodded and headed back inside, exiting moments later with a sturdy looking chestnut gelding of elder years. The tack was worn but well cared for. I sighed. The stableman led the horse over to me. "Will you need help mounting?"

  "I think I can manage."

  He nodded, handed me the reins, and went back inside. I sighed again and mounted, attempting to make myself seem clumsy. I wasn't an expert horseman by any stretch, but I wasn't as bad a seat as many of the petty nobles I'd seen around the palace. Combat riding was part of my training.

  The prince smiled at me again, and we headed off the palace grounds and into the forest. I was certain this was going to end badly.

  ***

  The woods seemed peaceful enough, the birds sang and rabbits peered out from under bushes. I didn't lose my sense of unease, and the prince smirked at me. "Still concerned, Terence? I assure you, the guard patrols this part of the road thoroughly; your mistress is safe."

  I did not share his opinion, but I wouldn't voice that. I would rather not give him another reason to try me. The further we road into the forest, the worse the feeling got. I'd always had a sixth sense for danger, it was one of the reasons I'd been trained so thoroughly with weapons -- and so young. As Iolyn had guessed. First as a page and then as a bladesmith, I was no soldier as Iolyn was, but a killer, yes.

  We came across a darker section of the forest, where the trees branched out over the road like a canopy. The birds stopped singing. The hair on the back of my neck rose. I tensed when the men burst out of the trees. I counted ten, four with bows and three with spears. The rest had swords. Those with bows marked the prince, watching him closely. One with a spear touched its point to milady's neck. My horse faltered and I let myself fall to the ground.

  Only to have a man with a sword on me in moments, dragging me to my feet to hold the blade to my throat.

  "We just want your valuables; no one needs to get hurt here." One of the men with swords proclaimed loudly.

  I sized the group up -- none of them could take me on alone, but I doubted I could do much for the bowmen, not without charring everyone in the vicinity, not to mention confirming to the prince I was not only Veneseran, but hiding a very colorful past. I grimaced; the sword at my throat was dull. Which would hurt more... I looked at milady, the spear at her throat was too close to drawing blood for my liking and the prince was glaring heatedly at the man.

  "Do you know who you're dealing with?" the prince spat.

  "Well-bred rich folks and a servant boy." The leader smirked. He wore a ridiculous feather in his hat. "Hand over the goods, or the pretty lady gets a new hole to breathe through."

  I felt a low growl emerge from my throat. "You touch her and I will kill you," I swore.

  The prince and milady stared at me.r />
  "Ooh hoo, the servant boy has fangs." Feather-hat laughed.

  The spearman touched his blade to her throat hard enough to draw blood. I reached for the blades at my back and summoned to mind a spell to call lightning. Trumpets sounded. Men on horseback rushed in, and in a matter of moments, the bandits were dead and the prince had milady in his arms, holding a strip of his own shirt to her throat.

  I brushed my hands on my pants, trying to make my earlier gesture look innocuous.

  The leader of the guard, a lieutenant by the look of his uniform, saluted sharply at the prince. "Are you all right, your highness?"

  "I am, but Linnaea was scratched. Terence, are you injured?" He looked over at me speculatively.

  "No, your highness." I took the initiative and re-mounted the horse.

  "We should head back," milady said. "I need a bandage and some tea."

  "Shall I ride ahead and ready some for you, milady?" I asked softly, eyes on my saddle pommel.

  "Please, thank you, Terence."

  I bowed in the saddle, and set the horse off at a trot.

  ***

  When milady arrived at her room -- in the arms of her prince -- I had tea and a physician waiting. The prince nodded to me, gratefully it seemed, and set the lady down in her favorite chair. I handed her a cup of tea and the physician treated her wound. It was just a scratch, but it still angered me. At least her ladies had the sense to stay out of the way, though I could hear them all a flutter in the solar. It was only just down the hall and they were being quite noisy.

  I tried to hide my anger, but my hands were shaking. The tea shook in its cup when I handed it to her, and she noticed. "It's all right, Terence. There was nothing you could do."

  The prince touched my shoulder. "You should go get something to drink -- take the edge off. I can take care of her."

  His eyes met mine, and in them I could see a question, more than a question. I looked away and slipped out of the room. I did need a drink, I stole down into the wine cellar and begged a bottle away on the pretense of sending it on to my poor mistress. She didn't need -- or want -- wine, but I could do with it. I took it back to my room, popped the cork and took a drink from the bottle.

  It was a good red, decent vintage. It was also one of the few wines from Veneser. It was a taste of home I dearly needed at that moment. I took another swig and my door swung open.

  "That's a lot of wine for a boy," Iolyn said. "Bad day?"

  I didn't look at him. "Milady was attacked, and I'm not a boy."

  "I know. His highness asked me to check on you."

  "How... kind of him."

  "He said you were so angry your hands shook. I suppose he thought you might be a danger to yourself, or someone else."

  "I'm not."

  "He says when they threatened to kill her, you reached for something."

  I felt the blood drain from my face. "I don't know what he's talking about." I stood up. "I couldn't have done a thing -- I'm no soldier."

  "What a lie." He strode across the small room and grabbed my shoulder. "I know you're hiding something."

  "Yes, we both know that," I said softly, taking another drink. "But the only thing you need to know is that I will lay down my life for milady. I swear to you."

  Iolyn sighed. "The prince told me you threatened to kill them if they touched her."

  "I did."

  "And how did you intend to do that?"

  "Any way possible."

  He took the bottle from my hand and set it down. "One of these days, it'll be time for you to stop running."

  "Why do you care? I--I'm just a servant."

  "You're just a servant Terence! Nothing more, and you will never be anything else."

  "You're also a good man." He shook his head and took a deep breath. He looked me in the eyes. There was something about his look that I recognized. He gripped both of my shoulders and kissed me very gently on the cheek. "Let me know when you want to talk." He left.

  The kiss tingled on my cheek. I took a breath and retrieved my book from under the plank, tucked it into my shirt, and headed out into the rain. No matter what Iolyn said, I couldn't tell them.

  I couldn't tell anyone.

  It had been some time since I'd gone into the city, but I needed a break from it all. The tavern seemed like a good place to do that. The woods circled the castle about half way around, and the rest of the region opened up into the city after a good two hundred yards of gardens. It wasn't uncommon to see palace servants heading into the city, so I wasn't noticed as I made my way through the less popular gardens and onto the paths that led to the wall, and then out the wall via the small gate.

  The street the small gate opened onto was lined with the homes of those nobles who wished to remain as close to the court as possible -- in other words, the richest and most influential. From there the wealth gradually subsided into the merchant's district and the best taverns and inns. There was the district below that where high-class servants and tradesmen spent their coin and below that where much of the rest of the city lived and purchased goods.

  I, being a high-class servant, went for the district I would be least likely to get myself robbed in. I wasn't in the mood to deal with ill-trained lowlifes. The heavy slab paved roads were clean here, and the gutters free of debris. I kept my head down and ignored those I passed, choosing a tavern called the Green Knight. I'd been there before and the stone and wood building reminded me of my homeland -- that, and they were one of the few places that served absys, a green liquor from Veneser. The tavern interior was a cheerful sort of place, for one, it had no animal trophies on the walls, for another, it didn't smell like stale beer and vomit.

  I took a seat near the door, a waitress in a low cut blouse -- though not as low as it would've been a few streets down -- and a blue skirt, swept up with a smile.

  "What can I get you?"

  "Absys." I fished three coins from my pocket and set them on the table, the gold flashed in the light. "Until my money runs out."

  She blinked, nodded, swept up the coins and hurried off to get my order.

  ***

  Absys is served in an odd little glass with a cylindrical top section and a spherical lower where the spirits themselves reside. I took the slotted spoon and a cube of sugar, setting them on top of the glass, and last, taking the chilled water, poured it into the glass and over the sugar. I liked it with three parts water myself, but others preferred more.

  I stirred the sugar into the glass, and in a single swallow, drank it down. I poured more spirits into the glass, and repeated the ritual. It was the thing I loved most about the drink.

  The ritual.

  Of course, four glasses later and I stopped bothering.

  I rested my head on the table, one hand on the bottle of spirits while the other stroked the portrait of Anna. A slightly rowdier crowd had absorbed the tables near the fire -- likely the sons of wealthy merchants and perhaps even some petty nobles. After all, this was one of the few places you could get absys, the taverns higher up the street refused to serve the stuff.

  There was a touch on my shoulder, a tap. I looked up, sliding the book closer to my body and closing it in the same gesture. "Can I help you?"

  The man who had tapped on my shoulder was moderately well dressed and far drunker than myself. I could hear the slight slur in my words, but it wasn't anything serious. He blinked and then pointed at the bottle in my hand.

  "Care t' share?" He hiccupped.

  I clutched the bottle to my chest. "Not really."

  He slapped my shoulder playfully, "Come on. We're s'elebratin'."

  "I think you've celebrated plenty, besides, I'm not done drinking." To illustrate my point, I took a drink from the bottle. It would haunt me in the morning -- or in a couple of hours -- but it was worth it.

  He frowned. "Don't be so stingy--" he took a look at me, blinking owlishly, "--servant boy."

  His friends took that moment to join him, drunken fools with irritable natu
res.

  I felt a grin twitch its way across my face. This would be fun. It'd been too long since I bloodied a few noses.

  ***

  Veneseran prisons were not nearly as clean as Jorian's. Not that I'd ever been in a prison in Veneser as a prisoner. I lounged on the wooden bench in the stone room -- I still had my blades, they hadn't bothered to check me for weapons -- idiots. But they had my book. That irritated me.

  My head was pounding, and the dim light coming in through the window hurt my eyes, I covered them with my arm and held back the urge to vomit.

  "This is not a place I ever expected to retrieve you from," a man spoke from the door as it creaked open.

  I peeked from under my arm -- it was Iolyn. "And I wasn't expecting you to retrieve me."

  "I always come get palace servants when they end up here. It's my duty to ensure they do not repeat the trip." His raised eyebrow made me wonder how many bruises I was going to accumulate while the rest of my brain was churning over the kiss.

  "I can assure you, this was a onetime thing." I got up from the bench; the floor moved a little. "I was... working off some steam. I suppose the incident yesterday upset me more than I thought it did."

  The Weaponsmaster snorted. "Three of the men are in the prison hospital with broken bones. It was only at the Lady's insistence that you were released, Terence."

  "They tried to take my alcohol, I protested, and they decided to attempt force. It's not my fault they were too drunk to properly defend themselves." I closed my eyes for a moment. "Did they give you my book?"

  In response, he held it out to me. I stumbled forward and took it, tucking it back into my shirt.

  "Pretty girl."

  I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. "Yes. She was."

  His face clouded for a moment, "Ah, I'm sorry. What was her name?"

  "Anna, my sister."

  He put a hand on my shoulder, steering me out of the cell. "How did she die?"

  "She was murdered."

  "Did you ever find who did it?"