Shadow Queen - By Deborah Kalin Page 0,50

he had time to deal with me?

When Amalia arrived to fetch me – scowling at the errand duty and angry at my dishevelled appearance and the delay fixing it would cause – Roshi elected to stay behind in the kitchens rather than accompany me. Perhaps she trusted Amalia to keep me under a watchful eye.

Amalia kept up a constant taunting chatter down the length of every corridor. ‘Were you planning on serving the meals as well? You look more fitted to it, covered in flour and pumpkin, or whatever it is you have smeared across your cheek. I certainly wouldn’t guess you to be the Duethin’s wife, if I were the Somners. In fact, they probably think he only keeps you around for the bed sport.’

‘Is this counted acceptable among the Marsachen?’ I rounded on her. ‘I’ve never known such loose proprieties as you and your brother display!’

Amalia choked on her laughter, her cheeks turning red and tears beading on her lashes. ‘For someone who has a problem with my social mores you certainly seemed ready to embrace them.’

‘Would you hurry?’ I said, giving her a withering look undermined by my blush. ‘We’re late enough as it is.’

She only laughed.

I wasn’t in time to enter the dining hall by Dieter’s side, but followed in his wake, the thralls bearing the meal sharp on my heels. The Somners’ quick eyes took note, of course.

Roshi slipped in among the thralls and stationed herself behind my right shoulder as the trenchers were distributed. The meal was a specialty of my tribe, a melange of beef strips and broad beans buried in a thick cheese sauce and spiced with paprika and onion. The thralls placed my meal and Dieter’s before us at the same moment, marking us as equal. By the light in Roshi’s watchful eye as the meals were set down, I knew I had my Skythe cousin to thank for the subtle ploy.

Before we could begin, Helma planted the point of her knife in the table and spun it under her thumb. ‘We have brought you a gift, my lord of Raban. I think perhaps now is as good a time as any to present it,’ she said.

A gift, presented now, meant only one thing: Houses Somner approved of Dieter’s coup. They never did like the idea of a Duethin with Skythe blood, murmured Grandmother.

The doors at the far end of the hall swung open and numerous thralls shuffled into the room. Their steps hobbled by hemp rope knotting them one to another, they made their way towards our table in silence. Each and every one bore the dark complexion and tribal tattoos of Skythes. Captives of legitimate warring or illegitimate raiding, the meaning of Helma’s gift was clear enough. A half-dozen conquered barbarians highlighted the jewel of Dieter’s possessions: the barbarian princess.

Stillness gripped the room as Helma, spearing a strip of beef, kept her gaze fixed on me. I, in turn, looked straight ahead. I would not give her the satisfaction of seeing me duck my chin, or turn to Dieter to defend my honour.

‘A gracious gift,’ said Dieter, but despite his smooth tones, his hand clenched mine beneath the cover of the bench. Whether he meant to warn me or comfort me, I couldn’t tell, nor did I care. It was time to let the Somners know they did not outrank me.

‘Unbind them,’ I said, and Roshi sprang to obey, pulling a short blade from beneath her belt as she did so.

The thick ropes binding the captives hand and foot presented hard work for her small blade. As she cut their bonds, they stared up at me, mistrust plain in their eyes.

‘I do not know which tribes you once belonged to,’ I addressed them. ‘Nor does it matter. Willingly or not, you have stepped under a stone roof, and thus you have renounced your previous life. Those of you who choose to remain may do so, provided you set aside any tribal rivalries you may once have known, and swear fealty to me and mine. Those who choose to leave may do so without fear.’

They were silent at first but, as Roshi continued her work, their mistrust was slowly turning to wonder.

In contrast, the Somner drightens were now watching Dieter – waiting for his response, clearly hoping to see me disciplined.

Leaning over, I picked a broad bean from Dieter’s plate and popped it whole into my mouth. It tasted hot, gloriously hot, like swallowing sunshine. All three Somner drightens watched