Chapter Twenty-Two

The Favor

 

Okay, it couldn’t be denied. Evidence was suggesting I held magic.

Shit.

Our ride home was silent, everyone in their own thoughts. It was also wired. This was because, for no reason at all since the rain had stopped in the night and the wind and sun were quickly drying the wet, there was no way a perfect arc of a rainbow should grace the sky.

Unless I commanded it.

Shit!

Maybe I did have magic, as completely insane as that seemed. Maybe I did command the heavens accidentally last night. Maybe I filled the sky with a rainbow so Mahyah’s ashes could drift over it to meet her soul.

And maybe this magic had brought me to this world in the first place.

Maybe it was me who was responsible for bringing me here.

Which would mean it was me who had the capacity to send myself back (somehow).

In my world, thoughts like this would lead me straight to my car where I would drive to the nearest psych ward and voluntarily check in.

But in this world, apparently anything went.

And the point was, I was in this world which meant I was not insane but instead, screwed.

As we rode back into the Daxshee, horses carrying my friends peeled off on a variety of trails winding through the chams, quietly called farewells the only things piercing our silence. When Seerim had lifted his chin at his wife before his horse took him down another path and it was only Diandra and I, I decided it was time to have a chat with my friend.

I didn’t get this chance. Zahnin barked an order, the four warriors gave him chin lifts, peeled away and Zahnin’s horse trotted up to me.

I looked up at him to see him glaring down at me, his gaze swung to Diandra then back to me and then I watched his jaw turn rock hard.

Oh man. I was thinking this wasn’t good.

Maybe he didn’t like rainbows. Or witches. Even those who held noble magic who didn’t know they were witches.

I braced before I asked, “Is all well, Zahnin?”

His glare turned to a scowl. Then a muscle jumped in his cheek.

Then he grunted, “Me.”

I felt my body get tight as I looked beyond him to the winding paths that led through the chams, wondering, if all wasn’t well, why he dismissed our guard.

“Um –” I started.

He interrupted me by forcing out between his teeth, “I request a favor from my golden queen.”

You could tell he didn’t wish to request this favor, like, he really didn’t wish to request this favor. Or, maybe, any favor.

My gaze slid to Diandra who was looking at Zahnin. She felt my eyes on her; she looked at me and shrugged. Then I turned back to Zahnin.

“What favor do you wish to request?” I enquired.

He scowled down at me and a muscle jumped in his cheek.

Then he grunted, “My new bride.”

These were not words I expected or understood why he was saying them so I blinked at him and when he said no more, I prompted, “Your new bride…”

His buckskin horse, catching his warrior’s vibe, danced with agitation under him and Zahnin tightened his hold on the reins so the horse stilled.

Then, so quickly it took all my concentration not to miss any of it, he explained, “My new bride is like you. She has great beauty. In the parade, I knew it was only her for me. I fought four brothers to claim her. She is also not of Korwahk, like you. She does not speak our tongue. She does not speak…” he hesitated and his eyes narrowed, “at all.”

Oh man. That wasn’t good news.

I bit my lip.

Zahnin went on tersely. “Unlike you, she does not settle into my cham and her new life. The favor I ask of my true queen is that you speak to her and help her settle into her new life as my wife as you have done with my king.”

I was sensing (rightly) this was why Zahnin was in such a bad mood.

I was also sensing (rightly) that the proud warrior before me didn’t often request favors, as in… never.

Therefore, I stated, “Take us to her.”

He stared at me then without looking at Diandra, he said, “The wife of Seerim –”

I cut in. “She will accompany me. She is the reason I have settled in my life with Suh Tunak. She will be of great assistance with your bride.”

He scowled awhile longer, his jaw still hard, that muscle jumped then he jerked his chin, jerked his reins and Diandra and I pulled our horses around and followed him back through the chams. As we did this, her eyes came to me and they were twinkling. I pressed my lips together and tried not to laugh.

Zahnin stopped in front of a cham that was bigger than most, not as big as Lahn and mine, and a girl ran forward as he dismounted. He tossed his reins to her without a word and rounded his horse to spot me as I swung off Zephyr then, when my feet were on the ground, he did the same to an already dismounting Diandra. Once the girl had the reins of all three horses, Zahnin stalked to the cham flaps and slapped them aside, entering.

Diandra and I followed.

When we got inside and my eyes adjusted to being out of the sun, I noticed instantly that Zahnin’s tent was not like Feetak and Narinda’s nor Bohtan and Nahka’s (which was slightly grander than Narinda’s). It was nearly like Lahn and mine. Bigger bed (not quite as big). Silk on the bed and pillows. More trunks (not as many as Lahn and I had). Nice furniture. Many candlesticks and tall candleholders. And also there was the smell of incense, the scent of musk and bergamot. It smelled lovely and I instantly decided I needed to talk to Teetru about incense.

I decided this as I watched a girl scoot with some alarm off the bed. So much alarm, she toppled over the head of the bed and landed on her ass. Then she shot up and quickly backed away, her eyes glued in fear to Zahnin, her body shaking.

I studied her.

Yep, this was why Zahnin was in such a bad mood. Three weeks and she was still like this? Not good.

I looked at Zahnin and he was watching his bride and he was not happy. So not happy, he looked extremely pissed off and that look on a huge, savage Korwahk warrior was fearsome.

Okay, it was clear Zahnin needed a few lessons in romance but I needed to focus on the girl first.

I looked back at her to see she hadn’t torn her frightened eyes from her husband. I also recognized her as one of the women in the pen who I thought was like me. She had been visibly terrified back then and she was no less terrified now.

She was, however, as Zahnin had described her, quite beautiful. Light brown hair, green eyes, a pixie-pretty face and very petite. Her ass and breasts were not much to write home about but her skin was peaches and cream all over and there was something delicate about her, something graceful even as she stood still. Something that many men, not Zahnin (I would have thought before that moment), would be drawn to in a protective way.

But clearly I was wrong about Zahnin.

Nevertheless, this would not help Zahnin. He was not as tall as Lahn but he was still tall and extremely muscled. Lahn dwarfed me and I was average height. This girl was small and Zahnin must seem like a giant to her.

I stepped forward and her eyes shot to me before going back to Zahnin.

“Hello,” I said quietly in English and her gaze moved quickly back to me, “I am Circe, Queen of Korwahk.”

She stared at me.

I took another cautious step forward and went on softly, “We’re here to help; you’re safe.”

I watched her swallow then lick her lips but she did not speak.

Another step forward and then I said, “Can you tell me your name?”

She blinked at me, bit her lower lip and then quickly she said something in a language I recognized with one of the words being, “Valearian.”

She was speaking French.

Shit.

I took French in high school for two years but that was high school. It had been ages. I recognized it but there was no way in hell I could speak it.

“She is Fleuridian, my dear,” Diandra whispered to me. “A language I do not know.”

Great, they didn’t call France France and Diandra didn’t speak Fleuridian (or whatever).

Shit again!

“Uh…” I began, pulling up my high school French, “bonjour,” I tried. “Je m’appelle Circe.”

Her eyes grew big, then they grew wet, then her hands came up clasped in front of her and she shot rapid fire French at me all the while her eyes slide back and forth between me and Zahnin.

I didn’t catch a lick of it.

Shit, shit, shit!

I smiled at her, lifted my hand, she stopped speaking and I turned my head slightly to Diandra, “Is there anyone in the Daxshee who speaks her language?”

“Yes, Circe, several and I know of someone who will be happy to help. She, like me, has been here many years,” Diandra answered and turned to Zahnin and said in Korwahk. “Have one of your slaves find Claudine, wife of Veenuk.”

Zahnin scowled at her but jerked his chin then slapped out of the cham.

As he did, I watched the girl relax.

Not good.

I took another step to her and asked softly, “Comment tu t’appelles?” and she looked back at me, her eyes soft, her manner relieved.

“Sabine,” she whispered.

“Okay, Sabine, ma erm… Fleuridian no c’est bon, uh… but we’re getting help.”

She blinked at me then she nodded in a way that I knew she understood what I said in her language but not in my own.

Boy, I hoped Claudine lived close.

Zahnin slapped back into the tent and grunted something to Diandra and Sabine grew instantly tense.

I approached Zahnin, his eyes came to me, he still looked pissed, that look was still scary but I sucked it up, stopped close to him and whispered in Korwahk, “Your wife’s name is Sabine, did you know that?”

His head jerked so slightly I could convince myself I didn’t see it, same with a flash that flared in his eyes. But I didn’t miss the angry look slightly fading from his face as his head turned toward his bride and he murmured, “Sabine,” in his deep, rough voice making a pretty name even prettier.

He didn’t know his wife’s name but he was clearly glad to know it.

I pulled in a calming breath.

I could work with this.

I turned to Sabine who had wary eyes on her husband. I waited until they flitted to me and I smiled. My smile didn’t alleviate the fear shadowing her entire frame and I knew this was because Zahnin was in attendance.

Then it occurred to me that in all likelihood Zahnin was doing the same thing to his wife that Lahn had done to me. That was, he’d raped her during the Hunt, she either had no idea what was happening to her (my guess, she too was “sheltered”) or knew about it and hated it. She took that hit then kept taking it as he kept using her body for the last three weeks as any warrior would feel his due from his wife.

I studied her. She was clean and clearly fed. There were no signs of visible abuse, no cuts, bruises or swelling. Her sarong, bandeau, belt and jewelry were very nice. She was wearing quite a bit of silver. Her hair was artfully arranged and her makeup was expertly applied which meant she had a girl or girls who were taking good care of her. The entire package saying that her husband was doing what he knew how to do to provide for his wife.

He was just not providing for her the way a woman needed to be provided for.

And he didn’t understand it but he’d been forcing her to live a nightmare for three weeks.

Okay, maybe I couldn’t work with this.

Not, of course, without reinforcements.

I turned back to Zahnin and whispered, “I need my king. Can you send a messenger to him and, if he is not too busy to attend me now, can you ask that he does? It is not urgent but I would look favorably on him granting my request.”

Zahnin examined me, clearly uncertain about how he felt about Lahn being called into our current situation.

Then he grunted and slapped out of the tent.

I took that as a yes.

I also took that as a sign that Zahnin wanted his wife to settle in her new life with him.

Then I turned back to the woman to see Diandra had gotten close and was talking softly to her.

Then I sucked in breath and waited for Claudine and, hopefully, Lahn.

* * * * *

Standing with my husband outside of Zahnin’s tent, I watched his eyebrows knit ominously and his eyes narrow dangerously before he whispered angrily in Korwahk, “My tigress wants me to do what?”

I moved in close (or closer, I was already pretty close), put a hand light on his chest (a chest that he had his arms crossed over), got up on my tiptoes and bent my head way back to reply on a whisper as best I could in Korwahk and I essentially repeated (with more detail), “You need to talk to Zahnin. He requested this favor of me but he needs to do his part. He must stop taking her against her will. He needs to back off, start wooing her, take meals with her, bring her presents, flowers, candy, jewelry. He needs to try to talk to her, teach her the Korwahk language. He needs to take her for rides and show her her new country. He needs to speak gently to her, look on her gently, touch her gently. And when he tries anything with her, he needs to do it like you did it with me and seek to give her pleasure before he takes his own. And I can’t tell him any of that, Lahn, you need to tell him all of that.”

Lahn stared down his nose at me. Then he asked, “My queen called me away from my warriors to ask me to tell another one of my warriors not to fuck his new wife,” there it was, I knew tooyo meant fuck, “but instead to bring her candy and take her for horseback rides? Do I have this right, Circe?”

I didn’t think this was going very well.

“Um… yes?” I asked back, now not so certain about my strategy.

Lahn kept staring at me. Then he looked over my head. Then he sighed. Then without looking at me again, he turned on his boot and walked away.

I was taking that as a no.

Great.

I walked back in Zahnin’s cham to see Diandra and Claudine (who was older than Diandra but she still held great beauty, maybe it was something in the water or just that the Korwahk scouts had good eyes) sitting on either side of Sabine on the bed, Claudine murmuring to her. This happened under Zahnin’s glower from where he stood a few feet inside the tent flaps, legs planted, arms crossed, eyes riveted to his wife and the two women.

If he kept glaring at her like that, she’d never calm down and let him in.

I got close to him, touched his arm, jerked my head to the tent flaps and then, without looking to see if he followed, I walked back outside.

He followed.

When he did, I got close, looked into his dark eyes and saw that he was scary but he was still handsome. He had a scar that slashed through his eyebrow which only served to make a hot guy hotter. If he didn’t constantly wear an expression that made him look like he wanted to rip someone’s head off, he’d be super hot.

I sucked in breath, hoped that he truly wished tranquility in his cham and then, in Korwahk, I told him exactly what I told Lahn. I faltered in the middle when his glower looked like it was flashing to rage (this was around about the time when I told him he needed to stop taking his wife against her will) but I sallied forth.

I finished with, “Zahnin, my protector, I know you do not wish to hear any of this. But if you want peace in your cham, if you want to hear cries of pleasure and sounds of mirth, hers and,” I leaned in, “your own, instead of the sound of tears and the feel of fear, then you must take heed to what I say.”

His pissed off stare didn’t waver so I kept on.

“I will do my best, with Diandra and Claudine, to teach her your language and the ways of your people, to help her to understand her new life and to be able to communicate with you and you her, but that is all we can do. You must do the rest.”

He continued to stare down at me angrily.

Shit. There was nothing for it.

I kept right on going. “Your king did not break through with me until his touch stopped taking and started giving and until, in our cham, he treated me with kindness. He is the mightiest of Suh Tunak, he recognized the battle he had on his hands, he analyzed it, created his strategy and then he went about winning that battle using any means necessary. And, Zahnin,” I edged closer and for the sake of this man who pledged to guard me even if it meant giving his life, who backed me against Dortak and who clearly wanted his wife to settle in her new life with him in his cham, I admitted to him at the same time I admitted to myself, “my Lahn won that battle. I now lay awake at night waiting for him to return. When he does not, I fall asleep looking forward to the morning when he will wake me with his hands. He is my king, he is my warrior, he is my husband and I am proud to say above all… he is mine.”

Zahnin said not one word and kept staring at me.

I returned his stare, all out of ideas.

Then he grunted and jerked up his chin.

I took that as a yes.

I smiled up at him hopefully. He watched me smile, shook his head, the scowl left his face and I saw his lips twitch.

Yep, definitely hot. If Sabine had it in her, there were hints that, soon, she would think she didn’t do so badly.

Then, hopefully, Zahnin would share with her his greatest gift and she’d feel touched and loved.

Like I felt that morning.

Good news for Sabine and Zahnin, confusing and worrying news for me.

Shit.

* * * * *

“My wife creates rainbows,” Lahn muttered to the roof of our cham.

It was late. We’d just gone at it hot and heavy, so hot and heavy I came three times, (yep, three). I was sated, drowsy and in a really good mood mostly because my husband had come home before I fell asleep but it must be noted it was also because he’d given me three orgasms. My mood was too good to let all that was weighing heavily on my mind weigh on it so I’d set it aside.

I was curled up against him, my legs tangled in his, my arm resting on his abs, my cheek to his shoulder. Lahn was on his back, his arm was under me, curled around, his fingertips trailing random patterns on the skin of my hip.

“Lahn,” I whispered to his chest.

“She is also mad,” he kept muttering and I pushed up onto a forearm and looked down at him.

“Mad?” I asked.

His eyes came to me and he used one word to explain. “Zahnin.”

I pressed my lips together.

Lahn kept talking. “Do not ask me to do something like that again, Circe. I understand your heart guides you in many matters. But I am warrior, he is warrior and this is a line we never cross. Am I understood?”

I kept my lips pressed together and nodded.

His eyes dropped to my mouth then his arm tightened around me, pulling me up on his body. His other hand lifted to shift my hair from one side of my face and hold it behind my neck.

Then he spoke in a murmur, “I do not like my queen’s lips pressed tight.”

I relaxed my lips and he gave a slight nod of satisfaction then his eyes locked on mine and when he spoke again, his voice was soft and even, fuck me, tender.

And I liked it.

“It means much to me that you let your heart guide you. It guided you back to me after I marked you and forced you to guard it from me.”

Oh God. He was being sweet again.

He kept talking. “But this, I fear, will cause you harm, my doe. And I want you to use caution as you open that heart. Zahnin is my closest lieutenant and I know much of him. He did not come to training direct from his parents’ care. His father was a warrior who died before he was born. A sickness took his mother not long after. His family took him in but they didn’t show him a great deal of kindness in the short time they had him. This would lead me to believe he does not understand how to provide this to his wife. Much time has passed since the Hunt so you must not hold high hopes for him winning her for, if you do, and he does not succeed, I know you will be crushed. This can happen and does. There are warriors who do not break through with their wives. If this does not happen, they can then cast them aside and attend another Hunt. It is their reward, as a warrior of Suh Tunak, to be provided a beauty to warm their bed, to do this willingly, to provide for their desires and to give them sons. And it is their right to keep seeking until that is found.”

My head tilted and I whispered, “Cast aside?”

He nodded. “Those cast aside are taken care of, given chams, even a slave. But they do not live the life of bounty that a warrior’s wife lives. Although the basics are provided, many of them must learn a trade to live a decent life. Sometimes, they will find a free man who will wish to take them as bride, and do, but this is rare. A warrior’s wife who is cast aside bears the reputation that she is unfit or unable to provide for a man’s needs and, although beautiful, will be avoided.”

Well, that sucked.

“Would… um, Sabine, Zahnin’s wife, if, um… this happens, since she’s not from Korwahk, will she be returned to her homeland?” I asked.

His eyes flashed and he stated firmly, “Absolutely not.”

Hmm.

“Why?”

“She is claimed, she is Korwahk,” Lahn stated just as firmly.

Hmm.

Time to change the subject because this one might irritate me and I wasn’t in the mood to be irritated.

“Did, uh… you, um… grow up under your parents’ care before training?”

It was the first personal question I’d ever asked him.

And he didn’t hesitate in answering. “I did, my tigress. My father was Dax and my mother was Korwahk, a great beauty. There was tenderness in his cham even though my mother could only give him one son, a difficult delivery rendering it impossible to provide him more. He was happy with the warrior she bestowed on him and he was happy with her.” His hand in my hair fisted when his voice dropped as he shared, “And I watched my father die during a challenge. I was warrior then and attended. As Dahksahna and as was her duty, my mother attended as well. His end marked her, as it did me, and she cared deeply for him. She would have lived a pleasant life as a deposed Dahksahna, the Korwahk people and myself providing for her but she chose not to live on without him. She took her own life the day after his body burned on the pyre.”

Oh my God. That was awful.

I felt myself melt into him as my hand lifted to cup his jaw and I whispered, “Lahn.”

His eyes held mine. “I regret she did not live to see her son best the Dax who bested her king. He was a man it was difficult to respect and not simply because he took my father’s head. It was a triumph in more ways than avenging my father to take his.”

“Honey,” I breathed and his hand moved to the side of my neck, his thumb beginning to stroke my jaw as I watched his eyes grow warm.

“Would that you were in my bed those years ago, Circe,” he whispered, staring deep into my eyes, “sharing with me like you are now your golden spirit to balm my own.” I held my breath as the silk of his words glided through me then he grinned. “And also here to celebrate my triumph when I took my vengeance.”

God, he was such a man.

I couldn’t help it, I grinned back at him.

“I take it that would have been…” I paused, searching for the word in Korwahk and hoping I found it, “energetic.”

His thumb stopped stroking and his fingers sifted up into my hair, putting pressure on so my lips touched his.

There, he whispered in English, “Oh yes.”

I found the right word or a right word.

I smiled against his mouth.

His eyes heated and he growled against mine.

Then his head slanted, his fingers pressed further, he ground my lips against his, they opened and his tongue instantly invaded. I made a noise in my throat and he rolled me to my back.

Then he demonstrated how energetic he would have felt after he seized the Dax. It was years later but clearly the glory hadn’t faded and I knew this mainly because, even after an already hot and heavy session, it… was… phenomenal.

So much so, my loud moans, whimpers and cries were noted by passersby, those inhabiting close chams and spies paying attention as were his groans, grunts and his final shout of climax.

And after he was through with me, thoroughly through with me, I fell into an exhausted sleep not thinking about holding magic. Not thinking of calling to the heavens to make them weep, to sending a rainbow arcing through the sky. Not thinking that I might have the magic in me to send myself home. And not thinking about Zahnin and his wife, hoping all would soon be well in their cham.

No, I didn’t think any of that.

Instead, in the seconds before my husband’s warm, hard, big body settled next to and partly over mine, his arm wrapped around, our legs tangled, I didn’t think about anything.