“Then show me your shoulder and prove it.”
“I am a king’s daughter,” she murmured.
“I am a king’s son,” he replied.
She knew that if she showed him her shoulder, he would discover she was not a hetaera.
An idea came to her. She wished she had the kystrel to advise her, but she did not.
She looked into Collier’s eyes. They were so blue she could drown in them. She saw the little scar on his cheek and wondered how he had gotten it.
“You are so interesting,” he murmured softly, reaching out and brushing aside some of her hair. “Why do you resist what is clearly in both our interests? You are not like I thought you would be.”
“My lord?” reminded the voice from outside.
He paused, hand still touching her hair. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.
Her voice broke, almost unwillingly. “Release them. Set them free. Promise to let them go and not to harm them or injure them in any way. Pardon their treason in writing and with your seal.” She swallowed. “Then I will marry you.”
He stared at her, his eyes glimmering with delight. “Done.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Headsman’s Noose
She walked alongside Collier through the smoke-filled camp. He had changed from his rider’s tunic to an elegant doublet, black velvet and trimmed with gold sigils of the Dahomeyjan lily. He wore ceremonial chains around his neck and a signet ring on the little finger of his right hand. The same sword was belted to his waist, but his countenance and stride completely transformed him from his former persona. He had the bearing of a ruler as he walked through the camp with firm deliberation, stopping in front of an enormous tree with two long ropes dangling from it. Two stools stood by it, and kneeling before them were the kishion and Jon Tayt. Maia’s heart raced.
She heard Argus barking and saw a man wrestling with the boarhound, who had been fitted with a collar and a leather leash.
“Let them go,” Maia pleaded, wringing her hands.
Jon Tayt’s head whipped around, his eyes bulging with fear until he saw her. He smiled, though his expression looked more like a grimace. Then he looked at Collier, his eyes showing first confusion and then sudden understanding.
“Ach,” he muttered. “Now that is a surprise.”
Maia started to approach, but Collier grabbed her arm, preventing her. “Not too close,” he urged her. “Give the order.”
“Release them,” Maia said in a voice of command. “Set them free.”
The guards stared at her in surprise, then glanced at Collier for his orders.
“You heard my lady,” he said with a curt nod.
Jon Tayt’s eyes glowered. A dark look came over his face as several soldiers approached and loosened his bonds.
“Bring his dog,” Maia said, motioning to the soldier who still struggled with Argus.
As Jon Tayt struggled to his feet, the boarhound charged him and began licking him with a frenzy. The hunter whistled for Argus to heel and stared at Maia in shock. “By Cheshu, what have you done, lass?” he asked in Pry-rian.
Maia felt her heart aching, but she could not reveal her plan. Not in front of everyone. She answered in Pry-rian, “I release you from my service. May we meet again someday in Pry-Ree, in the mountains where men fear to tread.”
Collier gave her an angry look. “No more chat,” he said waspishly. “That is enough.”
“I released him from my service,” Maia replied, her expression equally dark. “He is Pry-rian, so I did it—”
“Yes, yes, be done with it. Take this letter,” he said, handing it to the hunter. “It bears my seal. You have a fortnight to quit the realm, Tayt. Return to Pry-Ree or Paeiz or wherever you choose. But if you set foot in my domain again, you will hang. As for you.” He turned his angry gaze to the kishion. “All my instincts tell me that you will be nothing but a problem for me later, and I should end your life tonight. I will not have you roaming my kingdom freely. Captain, take him to Calis and put him on a boat. I do not care where. Make sure he is not unbound until after you have deposited him on a ship and it has weighed anchor and left. If he attempts to flee, stab him in the ribs and spill his guts.” He clenched his teeth. “If you come near my lady again, I will kill you myself.”
The kishion’s eyes were hard and violent. He nodded once and said nothing, but his scarred cheek twitched.
“Send him away. Tayt—have some ale before you depart if you wish. But you must leave my camp before midnight. My lady wishes to spare you the noose, and so I obey her will.”
“Maia,” Jon Tayt said, his voice low and purposeful and full of warning.
“All is well, Jon Tayt,” she said, looking at him fiercely. “Do as I bid you this one last time.”