The Priestess and the Thief Kindred Tales 30 - Evangeline Anderson Page 0,19
reasons. Reluctantly, he held his tongue.
“I will leave word at the palace door that you are to be admitted tonight,” the Duke said.
“And me as well,” Roke said quickly. “I am Lady Ellilah’s bodyguard and companion—she cannot go anywhere without me.”
Ellilah opened her mouth as though to disagree but Roke gave her a quick shake of the head and she subsided, still frowning at him.
The Tenebrian Duke didn’t seem to think there was anything strange about this arrangement.
“Of course you must have your Heart’s Companion with you,” he said to Ellilah. “I will leave an invitation for him as well. Lady Ellilah and…?”
“Roke,” Roke said shortly and saw the little priestess’s eyes widen.
That’s right, he thought. The Goddess told me her name, but I never told her mine.
So this was a kind of introduction, in a way, he supposed.
“Yes, Lady Ellilah and Roke.” The Duke nodded and looked at Ellilah. “And now, if you don’t mind, I must be going.”
He bent down to pick up the heavy saddle—staggered under its weight for a moment—and tried to put it on the zorel’s back.
The zorel promptly side-stepped, leaving the expensive saddle to fall on the ground again.
“Blast!” the Duke swore, his pale blue face going indigo with rage. “This is why I always have the groom saddle him!” he exclaimed to Ellilah.
“Let me talk to him,” she said, frowning at the zorel. “What’s his name, by the way?”
“Wind Chaser,” the Duke said stiffly, picking up the saddle again.
“All right. Now, Windy…” The little priestess began stroking the zorel’s long muzzle and speaking in low tones in his tufted ears.
The ears drooped at first and Roke would have sworn the beast looked ashamed of itself. After a moment, though, the tufted ears perked up. Its nostrils quivered and it gave a snort of steam and nodded its head.
“All right, try it now,” Ellilah said to the Duke. “Oh, and you’re putting it on backwards,” she added. “Turn it around.”
The Tenebrian Duke looked embarrassed as he put down the heavy saddle and picked it up again, the right way around this time. He managed to flop it onto the zorel’s broad back and this time Wind Chaser stood perfectly still for the operation.
“Good boy!” Ellilah exclaimed and Roke wasn’t sure if she was talking to the Duke or his animal. Both of them, however, reacted to her compliment in a positive manner. Wind Chaser blew steam and snorted softly and the Duke smiled and nodded his head.
“Now let me show you how to tighten the girth,” Ellilah said to the Duke. “You have to make sure it’s not too loose—you don’t want it to fall off. But at the same time you don’t want to make it so tight that it pinches your zorel.”
She spent several moments showing him, during which the formerly restive zorel held perfectly still.
“And that’s why it’s important to check the equipment yourself—even if you trust your groom,” she finished at last.
“I see.” The Duke was nodding and looking at the little priestess as though she was an amazing fountain of information.
Actually, she was, Roke thought. He had never seen such an impressive display of bravery and knowledge. He wondered why Ellilah was a priestess at all. Surely she would be happier training zorels than chanting meditations in the Sacred Grove all day. Well, maybe he could find out once the two of them got to know each other.
At last the Duke rode off—not without promising again to leave an invitation for the two of them at the gates of the palace—and the curvy little priestess turned to Roke with fire in her green eyes.
“All right,” she said tightly, crossing her arms over her breasts. “Who exactly are you and what are you doing here?”
Eleven
Elli crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at the big warrior. She’d never imagined she would see the mysterious male from the Christmas party again—the one she’d shamed herself with—the cause of all her trouble.
He looked just as she remembered him—wild black hair and dark eyes—broad shoulders and a muscular form which was emphasized by his tight black shirt and trousers and his long black boots. He was tall too—much taller than her. But she didn’t care that he could pick her up and break her like a toothpick—she was angry at what he’d put her through and she wasn’t afraid to let him know it.
“All right,” she said tightly. “Who exactly are you and what are you doing here?”