and Bilge ran his sleeve over Ghisla’s face, trying to clean up his mess.
Ghisla pushed past him, hoping the king would see and Bilge would be punished, but the king did not lift his head.
“Sing to me, daughter of Leok,” he groaned. “Sing until I’m asleep.”
She did so, grateful that his request was the same, even now that Bayr was gone. He never wanted words and he never wanted worship. He simply wanted music to combat his raging headaches and the incessant ringing that often accompanied them.
It didn’t take her long before Banruud was snoring softly. When she stopped, he did not wake.
But Bilge was still waiting outside the king’s door.
She did not hesitate, but dashed past him, reaching the stairs before he had time to react. But he was quicker than he looked. Ghisla was down the castle steps and halfway across the square when he caught her, lifting her up off her feet and burying his face in her neck.
“Let me go, Bilge. The last man who tried to take a temple daughter rotted on the north gate,” she reminded.
“One of the clanless, I’m sure. But I don’t want to kidnap you. I just want a kiss. Just one from that pretty, pink mouth. And I promise to look after you as well as the Temple Boy did. I’ll bet you gave him kisses. I’ll bet you let him touch your breasts and pet the curls between your legs. That’s all I want. And I’ll take care of you just like he did.”
She could tell by his wheedling that he expected her to cry and fight him a little, and then let him have his way. What he didn’t expect was the bloodcurdling scream-song that she released, throwing her head back and alerting the entire mount—castle, temple, and all the grounds—that something terrible was occurring.
“Stop that!” he hollered, releasing her in his surprise. He should have run then, but she’d made him angry and he slapped her. She wobbled but didn’t lose her volume. She got louder, the sound so earsplitting that the bell in the tower began to hum with the vibration.
Bilge hit her harder, slugging instead of slapping, and she fell, smacking her head against the cobblestones. It was then that he chose to make his escape, dashing across the courtyard to the palace steps and disappearing back the way they’d come.
Suddenly Dagmar was there, and Master Ivo too, helping her up from the cobbles. Ghost must have alerted them after all. She hovered by the temple door, her cowl pulled over her white hair, watching.
“Who was it, Daughter? Who has hurt you?” Dagmar asked.
“His name is Bilge. He is a member of the king’s guard.”
“It is not yet dawn . . . What is the meaning of this?” Ivo stammered.
“I sing for the king . . . when his head aches. Bayr used to go with me. But . . .”
“But Bayr is gone,” Dagmar finished, his voice hollow.
“Yes.”
“Why was I not told of the king’s request?” Master Ivo was angry.
Ghisla looked at Dagmar who looked back at Ivo.
“I did not know, Master. Bayr did not tell me.”
“And Ghost did not tell you?” The Highest Keeper was having trouble making sense of it all.
“Ghost was afraid if we said no . . . there would be trouble,” Ghisla explained, not wanting Ghost to incur the Highest Keeper’s wrath. “It was an . . . innocent request. I was not hurt . . . until today.” She did not tell them Bayr took the abuse for her.
“How often have you sung for the king?” Ivo asked.
“In these last years, mayhaps a dozen times,” she answered.
“And I was never told!”
“No, Master.”
Master Ivo glared from Ghisla to Dagmar with quivering outrage.
“I need to speak to the king. You will both come with me.” He pointed a clawed hand at Dagmar and Ghisla.
“He is asleep,” Ghisla said. It would not be wise to rouse him.
“Then we will wake him up,” Ivo raged.
But when they walked into the throne room, Bilge was already making his case to the irate Banruud. Banruud’s hair was matted and his eyes so bloodshot they appeared red in his sleep-swollen face. He was a handsome man, but pain and sleeplessness had made him ugly, and his mood was foul.
“Your shrieking has disturbed the king,” Bilge spat.
“Your men seem to think the temple daughters are here for their pleasure,” Master Ivo roared without preamble.
The king glowered at the Highest Keeper and rubbed his temples.
“Months ago, Liis