Duty: a novel of Rhynan Read Free Page B

speaking a word
against him. Orwin saw no reason to still his own tongue, however.
I blackened his eyes a few times before he learned to not speak his
insolence in my hearing.
    This man would not be so easily directed. His life
spoke to his skill with a sword. His position indicated he
possessed some ability to learn. Memory of his control when I
prodded his temper that morning reassured me that I would not be
constantly warding off his blows. Still, his character remained
untested.
    I boldly studied his face again. A mask of
indifference kept him guessing, I hoped.
    “What is holding you back from decision?” he
asked.
    “What I do not know about you,” I answered. “I lack
even the questionable reliability of second or third-hand
witnesses.”
    “I promise to never strike you in anger, if that is
your fear. The rest, I am afraid, you are going to have to discover
later.”
    I could ask for more, but nothing at this point would
completely reassure me. Closing my eyes and releasing a prayer to
Kurios, I took a step of faith. “Yes.”
    I didn’t really have many expectations for his
response, but he defied the few I considered. He kissed me.
    Rough, calloused hands held my head still as he took
my mouth with his. There was no other way to describe it. Warm,
commanding, yet gentle, and brief, he stepped away before I could
respond. My heart thundered in my ears.
    “Thank you. I will send Antano to guide you through
the preparations for tonight.”
    Then he was gone.
    I stared at my cousin’s chair, once my father’s chair
and now Lord Irvaine’s, and wondered what manner of man I agreed to
marry. Nay, I was already his. What I just handed to him was my
consent. Something he apparently valued very highly.
    “My lady?” Antano waited just inside the outer door.
“I am to take you to choose a marriage gift to give Lord Irvaine
during the ceremony.”
    I nodded numbly. Kurios, have mercy, I prayed.
Only then did I realize I still carried Lord Irvaine’s helmet.
     
    *~*~*~*~*~*~*
     

Chapter Four
     
     
    Torches flared in the breeze, transforming the
familiar village square into a sea of shifting light and shadows.
Music—lute, tambourine, flute, and pulsing drum—stirred the spirit.
My feet moved in time to the beat without volition. The mixture of
familiar and foreign faces among the revelers set my instincts on
edge. I never knew if the next person I met would leer or smile. It
didn’t help that I no longer dressed as one of them.
    A full skirt swished elegantly about my ankles with
each step. The diaphanous emerald silk whispered against itself. I
missed the reassuring warmth and weight of my rough linen and wool.
Finer clothing, thinner shoes, and birth set me apart from them. I
walked alone. I no longer belonged to the dancing crowd around me.
I was his.
    My stomach twisted. I swallowed with caution,
suddenly thankful I had eaten nothing since early morn.
    “Brielle!”
    Loren plowed into me, wrapping her arms about my
shoulders, pulling me down four inches to her level.
    “I am so sorry, Brielle. Quaren just told me. You
weren’t even given a choice.” She drew back to study my face.
    “She has forgotten to tell you I also said Lord
Irvaine will make a good husband.” Loren’s new husband stepped out
of the crowd pulsing about us. His mild eyes smiled slightly at me
in the flickering light.
    “Are you a wife to evaluate such things?” Loren asked
him sharply. “Besides, Brielle is hardly a typical woman. She
rides, brawls, and works like a man. She doesn’t need a
husband.”
    “Unlike you?” Quaren tilted his head slightly and
watched Loren’s features with amusement. A smile tugged at his
mouth, lightening his features.
    “Exactly.” Loren turned to mouth words missed. I
didn’t catch the sounds in the din around us. The gleam in her eyes
and heightened flush to her cheek gave me hope she would be happy
with her new life.
    “Have you met his daughter yet?”
    “No. She will arrive in