The eldest took a knee. “Greetings, lady. I am Fotius, and it is my honor and privilege to lead you back to Sardis. Please, advise me or one of my men if you need a
slower pace than we set or wish to stop. We were given strict instructions to put your comfort and safety above all.”
Was that supposed to touch her? She dredged up a smile. “Thank you. But I would like to reach Sardis as soon as possible.”
“Certainly. I will be at the head of the company, my brother at the rear.” He stood again and motioned to the man on his left, then indicated the remaining soldier. “Our
most valiant warrior will remain at your side. This is—”
“Bijan, son of Navid.” Of course. In his belated attempt to appease her, Xerxes would send her brother’s friend.
Bijan frowned and met her gaze. “You know me, lady?”
She gave him a bare smile. “Only through my brother Zechariah.”
“Kasia?” A thunderhead stole over his features as recognition lit his eyes. “Your family thinks you dead.”
Perfect. Even her escort judged her lacking. “Zechariah and my mother know the truth. My father forbade them to speak it.”
That seemed to restore his humor. “That does indeed sound like your father. The only man I know who would be ashamed that his daughter is wife to the king.”
She granted that with a halfhearted breath of laughter and let Theron lift her into the wagon. As Zad bounded up behind her, the three Immortals left with nods. Bijan
returned a few minutes later with his horse, and the entourage moved forward.
Kasia turned so she could see Bijan, who rode within reach of the wagon. “Have you heard anything lately from Susa?”
“Plenty,” he said with a chuckle. “My sister squeezes as much gossip as possible onto one wax tablet. Your brothers and father have been very busy with work from the
palace. Everyone assumes the king saw the things I ordered, though I now suspect that credit belongs to you.”
She grinned, but it faded quickly. Would Xerxes cancel his orders with them after the war? “The king let me commission a few pieces, and his steward was impressed with the
craftsmanship.”
“Far more likely.” He studied her for a long moment, his dark eyes sharp. “Not that I knew you well, but I grieved for Zech when he lost you. It never occurred to me you
could be alive, much less the concubine of the king everyone speaks of.”
Something thudded in her chest. Not her heart, surely—that was either absent or frozen. “Why would everyone speak of me?”
Bijan lifted a brow. “You are considered all but a goddess—the only creature in the world that can keep the king happy. When word spread that he was sending said creature
to Sardis, a collective groan went out.” Bijan glanced at her stomach. “I am surprised he did not send you back sooner, but I suppose he did not want to part with you.”
A furry head nudged her hand, and she obliged Zad with a scratch behind his ears. Did Xerxes not want anyone to know he had sent her away in disgrace? That changed nothing.
She still knew.
Bijan cleared his throat. “I feel as though I should apologize. I think I said a few things over the years concerning the king’s favorite concubine that I would not have,
had I realized she was you.”
She chuckled to cover her wince. “I suppose it is natural for people to be curious about any woman of interest to the king.”
“That seems a poor excuse when I consider the thrashing your brother would give many of my friends here, had he heard the speculation.”
Heat stung her cheeks. Time to nudge the subject elsewhere. “Ah yes, my brother against a band of Immortals. Would he have stood a chance?”
Bijan snorted. “More than. He is a better warrior than most of them. I am heralded as one of the best, and I know it is only because of the extra practice I got with Zech.
He challenged me as few of these men ever have.”
“Did you see battle?”
An odd expression settled on his face. “I did. The first day, and also yesterday. It was not what I expected.”
“Worse?” She could not imagine facing down the Spartans.
“No.” Brows knit, he drew in a breath. “When I faced the enemy, it was as if . . . as if another’s arm steadied my own, as if someone breathed confidence and strength
into me.” He shook his head, dislodged the frown. “That must sound odd.”
She pressed her lips into a close smile. “Actually, I prayed Jehovah would send his angels to do just that.”
“You prayed to Jehovah for me?” Shock glazed his eyes, but under it she thought she detected recognition. “Why?”
“Because I felt the Spirit whispering that I should. Because you are my brother’s friend.”
He nodded and gazed ahead of them, silent. Content to leave him to his musings, Kasia settled back and patted Zad’s side. There would be plenty of time to talk.
At the moment, she preferred to sit and not think.
Twenty-Eight
Susa, Persia