Castling
S.L. Viehl
Kaset bolted the door and leaned back against it, refusing to look at her. “You can stop pretending now.”
Thienne didn’t answer him. A glance revealed she really was asleep.
Do not disturb her.
He’d do more than that, someday. But for now it was enough to walk to her, stand over her, and stare at her as much as he pleased. She was, quite simply, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Beautiful and golden and delicate as an ice crystal.
Deceitful and treacherous and as deadly as an elemental.
A strange sound left her, and he backed away a few steps until she did it again. She was snoring. Was she drunk? Thienne certainly had a fondness for wine. But she’d never indulge it in front of her mother. No, she saved it for those occasions when he had to wait upon her. Kaset turned abruptly and tripped over a chamber rod someone had left on the floor. He fell against the table, causing a bottle of wine near the edge on the other side tipped over. Before he could regain his balance and grab it, it fell to the floor and shattered.
Thienne sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What?”
Kas faced the Sciona. “My Lady, you . . . ” he trailed off when he saw the state of her gown, the odd bumps in her bodice, and the way she sat, slouched down on her chair, her legs comfortably spread. “Forgive me for waking you.”
“Yeah. Okay.” She looked around, then at him. “Can I have more to eat?”
Why was she asking him? Perhaps she thought it would interfere with his treatment. He suspected she had her monthly time; it always turned her moody and lethargic. “By all means.”
“Great.” She leaned over and took something from the table behind her. “Want some?”
“No, I thank you, I have already dined.” He paced up and down the length of the room. “I regret disturbing you, it was a clumsy accident. The sovereign bid me stay with you.” Braced for the explosion, he glanced her way.
She wasn’t having a tantrum. She didn’t appear even mildly upset. In fact, she wasn’t paying any attention to him at all. Her focus was on a single bloodrose in her hand. More interesting was what she was doing with it.
“My Lady, eating that flower will not aid your digestion.”
“Huh?” Her eyes widened at the sound of his voice, and she stopped chewing on the petal she’d just bitten off the bloom. She held the flower away and stared at it, then him. “I can’t eat this thing?”
Was the little twit trying to poison herself? He went to her and tugged the flower from her hand, taking care not to touch her. “I would not recommend it, my Lady.”
“Oh. Right.” She spat the remains of the petal into her palm, studied it for a moment, then wiped it off onto her skirt. “Didn’t taste like it smelled anyway.” She grabbed a handful of blanched, spiced roots and began breaking off chunks and tossing them in her mouth.
Kas blinked. “Are you feeling well, my Lady?”
“Yeah. I’m well.” She spoke through the mouthful of food she was chewing as she gazed up at him. “You’re Kaset. The . . . body something. Bodymage.” She appeared pleased with herself, as if she’d solved a difficult riddle. Then she tore the end from a braided length of bread and started gnawing on the crust.
Silently he lifted his sensitive hands, and probed the tenor of her soul mount, but felt no evidence it was being ridden. What he did feel stunned him. He’d probed Thienne many times before. He knew her mount almost as well as his own.
The body was Thienne’s. The soul . . . had changed.
Whatever had ‘mounted her must be dire indeed. Perhaps one of the minor elementals. He cursed himself for leaving his casting snare on the other side of the Hold, then went down on one knee beside her. To know more, he would need to touch her.
“Your leave, my Lady?”
She used her teeth to pull black grapes from a garnish vine draped around a platter. “Laslenne said I have to stay here.”
The way she spoke – her voice was Thienne’s, but her intonation was different. Sharper. Shorter. As if she was nearly clipping off the end sounds of each word. As if she had never sung a single note in her life.
Thienne, whose incomparable soprano had been so pure and sweet that a handful of notes had been known to make the most battle-hardened defender weep like an infant.
He held out his hand and kept his voice gentle and non-threatening. “I ask your leave to touch you.”
“Why?” She got to her feet, knocking the chair over as she retreated. “I didn’t cut out my ring. It’s not my fault. Don’t.”
He got to his feet. Whatever rode her was terrified of him. A perverse kind of pleasure spread through him. If it was afraid, it could be recast to do his bidding.
“Peace with you, Sciona. I won’t hurt you. You have lost a ring?”
She went around the table, putting it between them. “No, nummox. Someone cut it out of me.”
“You’ve been stabbed?” He looked for blood, but only saw dark patches of grease. A dire and slovenly ‘mount rode her. Thienne would be furious when she was restored. “Who dared to use a blade on you?”
“I don’t know.” She touched the back of her head.
She’d been stabbed there? “Allow me to see to your injury, my Lady. Give me your leave.”
“I’m not cut – oh, fine. Have a look. Touch whatever you want.”
Touch whatever you want. Whatever was riding her may have seriously debauched her mind. Carefully he moved around her, and placed his hand just above the crown of her head. A flick of his fingertips caused her hair to part neatly down the back of her head, revealing pink scalp. He found no wound, not even a bump.
“There is no injury, my Lady.”
“I know.” She picked up the small vase that had held the bloodrose. A few moments later she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “Deuce, that’s so good. Can I have more?”
He stood, staring stupidly at the vase. She’d drank from it. She’d drained it. “Yes. Yes, of course.”
Based on my lifelong love of chess, and a short story I wrote back in the 90's, Castling is an old unfinished book. I have about 40K of the book written. When I included an excerpt from Castling in one of my free e-books everyone clamored for more. Assuming I could pick up where I left off in 2005, this one would probably weigh in at 100K by the time I finished it.
Castling is Idea #4.
Image by Pexels.
Comments