“Thank you for your input, Sir Gorrann. I think we should head back to camp.”
He watched a shimmering bubble that rolled slowly toward his feet. “Couldn’t agree more. I hate this wretched place.”
Dinah looked out over the landscape, so enchanting, a world of soft pink bubbles and warm light. She shrugged. “It feels like love.”
“And that’s why it’ll kill yeh,” replied Sir Gorrann, nudging her toward Morte.
Chapter Sixteen
When she wasn’t meeting with the council, Dinah continued to train with Bah-kan and Sir Gorrann, but now Wardley brought his own special expertise into the bouts. Crowds of Spades and Yurkei swarmed their training circle to watch the epic battles of sword and strength, blatantly ignoring Starey Belft’s shouted orders that they should return to their own sparring circles. Dinah was usually the first one out of the ring, followed by Sir Gorrann, and then Wardley. Bah-kan was unstoppable, with the exception of one warm afternoon when his sword swung a little too close to Dinah’s neck. Silver flashed in the sunlight, followed by a loud metallic thump and Bah-kan looked down in amazement at the dagger lodged deeply in his breastplate, just above his heart. He leveled his furious gaze upon Cheshire, who was perched calmly on a horse a hundred yards away, his purple cloak billowing out behind him.
“Bah-kan.” He shook his head sadly. “Remember who you spar with, sir, and slow your blade.” Then he turned and rode calmly away, leaving the crowd stunned and impressed.
Bah-kan yanked the blade out of his chest with a scowl. “He’s overly protective of you,” he snapped in Yurkei. Dinah allowed herself to boast, if even for just a minute.
“He’s my father.” And he is dangerous from even a distance.
She instantly regretted saying it out loud and soon retired to her tent, her mind sloshing with conflicting emotion. Preparations for war continued at a frantic pace, and most nights Dinah fell into bed exhausted to the core. Her body ached, her mind was spent, and she wished she had insisted on bringing the heavenly grass mattress from Hu-Yuhar instead of this makeshift cot. Usually, a deep sleep took her immediately, but not this night, just a few days before their departure for the palace. Fall asleep! she commanded herself. You have much to do tomorrow; SLEEP! The more aggravated she became the less likely sleep was, and she found herself tossing needlessly on her cot. Something was keeping her awake. There was a voice trailing on the edge of the warm wind. Come to me. Dinah tossed and turned. Sleep was a white rabbit on quick feet, and no matter how much she tried, she could not follow it into the blissful dark.
Exasperated, Dinah sat up and pulled on her tunic and boots. The damp air of the Darklands was growing warmer each day as summer neared and she had no need for heavy wool or feather pants. She grabbed a handful of sugar cubes from an open bag and ducked out of her white tent. Her two guards were, of course, wide awake when she passed them outside.
“Your Highness?” Ki-ershan was the only Yurkei warrior who addressed her as his queen. Dinah had grown quite fond of him.
“I’m just going for a short walk through the tents.”
“You may not go alone.”
“I won’t. I’ll have Morte with me.”
The guard glanced up at the massive beast that had trotted over to greedily consume the sugar cubes. The bone spikes that protruded from his hooves were white as the moon in the flickering torch light.
“Are you sure, my Lady?”
Dinah touched his shoulder. “It’s just a walk, I promise. I’ll be back in half an hour.”