<< Go Back

The Duke's Handmaid

By Caprice Hokstad

Order Now!

Prince Vahn Rebono, the duke of Latoph, moved with strict attention to his stature. One of the many reasons he frequented The Scarlet Dryad was its high doorways, which afforded him free movement without constant ducking. He entered through the kitchen door, after having stepped out to discuss something privately in the alley behind the tavern.

The newest scullery maid gawked at his attire: a silk shirt with loose upper sleeves and long close cuffs, a finely tailored jerkin, butter-soft kidskin breeches, knee-length boots shined to perfection, and a floor-length manteau of velvet—all in solid black. His manteau was fastened with a silver and onyx tasseau and the hem swirled about his frame, licking at his ankles as if having a life of its own. He smiled and winked at the scullery maid, sending her back to work with reddened cheeks.

Purposeful strides delivered him to his private alcove where an Elva woman held a stalwart kneel. She bowed her head as he approached, and then straightened her back to appear even more poised than before. Her gaze didn’t venture above his knees. She wore a modest dress of silver broadcloth, trimmed in black satin ribbon.

“Sorry to leave you alone so long, timna,” he said softly. Vahn slipped into the velvet-padded chair—a high-backed piece carved of ebony, that looked more like a throne in contrast to the roughly hewn seats scattered elsewhere. The duchess’ throne stood empty, as did the other benches and stools positioned around his table. He reached for the silver chalice he’d left on the table.

“It hasn’t been that long, Master Vahn. Would you like timna to bring more wine?”

“You were here the whole time with my cup, yes?”

“Yes, Master. timna never left her post.”

“Then what I have is fine,” he said, resting the chalice on the arm of his throne. He really wasn’t in the mood to drink anyhow. His free hand settled on the other arm, long, slender fingers tapping nervously on the silver-gilded ebony.

“Is everything all right, Master?” timna asked.

Vahn paused and glanced down at her. She waited patiently for his answer, concern evident in gray eyes lifted to his face, but never meeting his gaze. There was so much he wanted to share. Rebono Keep would have been a preferable venue, but he couldn’t contain the news. He shot a look around the tavern. The closest occupied table was at least twelve feet away and none of the other patrons paid any heed. His thin lips curved into a smile.

“I just found out,” he confided in hushed excitement, “that the Archmage visited my father when Arx and I were born. In the thousand years of Rebono reign, twins had never been born to even minor nobility, much less to the king himself. The Archmage prophesied that we were a miraculous sign indicative of the influence of Calla and Cana. He advised Father to treat us with absolute equality in the same way that neither sun can outshine the other nor claim greater ownership of the Heavens.”

timna’s charcoal gray hair shone like satin. Vahn ceased his nervous tapping and ran his fingers through it, calming them both. She nodded at appropriate moments, assuring him she was listening. Vahn kept all his whispers barely audible.

“But Father didn’t want to split the kingdom, so he had the Archmage’s portents sealed and forbade him to speak of it. Father made a kingdom-wide decree on our Presentation Day. Although he was only seven minutes older,” Vahn fumed, “Arx was declared Heir Apparent while I was named the duke. Father didn’t even make excuses for ignoring the Archmage. If anyone thought it defied the tradition of Twin Inheritance, he couldn’t dare voice it.” Vahn took a quick swallow of the wine and let the chalice drop back to the chair’s arm. He controlled his movement just enough to prevent the wine from splashing out or the chalice foot from ringing in its impact.

timna’s eyes grew wide. No doubt she’d heard the rumors about his resentment. Surely, she comprehended the enormous trust he bestowed to reveal the depths of his aggrievement to her. She was optimess, the head of the household staff. Over the two years he had owned her, he had never known her to break a confidence, though this was the most sensitive information he had ever shared. Usually his wife was the one he bared his heart to. But the pregnancy had made her much too moody lately. In fact, he wasn’t sure he had ever made Saerula completely understand his past.

timna waited patiently at his feet. She didn’t look up or speak. She would listen to whatever he cared to share and never press him for more than he needed to say. Now that he had opened the floodgates, it was hard to stop. He slid his fingers through her hair and recommenced.

“After Father’s murder and Arx’s hasty coronation, I offered Arx help. I offered to come to Occi and bring men to assist with the investigation. Arx not only refused, he made a royal proclamation that I was to remain within the borders of my duchy.”

timna gasped lightly. Someone entered through the front doors, looked around, and turned toward the exit again. Vahn didn’t get a good look, but he dismissed it from his thoughts when the stranger left.

Vahn’s face twisted into a scowl as he looked back at timna. “I know,” he hissed. “But Arx made it sound so unselfish, like he could handle this easily and for me to leave would put the duchy at risk.” His whisper lowered to a voiceless expulsion of air. “My brother’s incompetent envoys only annoyed the king of Senkra.” He knew he was saying more than timna could understand. It didn’t matter; maybe it was even better she didn’t understand. “That’s when the skirmishes started. Again, I offered men and supplies to help stabilize the border. Again, Arx put his distrust of me ahead of the kingdom’s best interest. He refused ever-so-politely, shamelessly spewing assurances of his self-sufficiency and competence—”

Vahn quieted abruptly as two strangers approached. The man was the one who had entered and left just moments earlier. timna turned to face the same way, straightening her kneel at the side of his throne. She smoothed her skirt and held her head up proudly, displaying a brightly polished silver band around her neck. Vahn beamed inwardly at her statuesque bearing. He set his chalice on the table and directed his gaze to the man accompanying a young maiden toward his alcove.

--

It was Keedrina’s first time in a tavern. The curiosity of it all distracted her from her grim purpose. Lamplight danced over the limestone walls, mingled with suns’ light streaming through the windows. The air smelled of fireplace soot and lamp oil. The memory of smoke caused her stomach to lurch. Most of the numerous oaken tables were vacant, though she guessed this was due to the hour of the day. A few patrons held quiet discussions over pewter tankards and trenchers of stew.

The healer took her hand and pulled her toward a far corner. Keedrina took one look at the alcove and lost all nerve. The very sight of the impressive nobleman seated in a throne caused her to gasp. She tried to wriggle from the healer’s grip, but he held all the tighter.

An Elva woman knelt beside the throne. She was banded like moxi, but her bands were all brightly polished silver and had no little connection rings emerging from them. The slave was so incredibly still and so flawlessly beautiful, she appeared at first a statue. Watching the handsome young Elva slipping his fingers through her hair sent a warm shiver over Keedrina.

The healer spoke first. “I am Pharn Patkus, your highness, a healer of Ny. Might I have a moment?” The healer bowed his head and bent at the waist.

The man in the throne stood, towering a full eight feet. Keedrina gulped at his sheer presence. She had not expected a nineteen-year-old, even an Elva, to be that tall. She studied his fancy clothes, sleek black hair, piercing black eyes, the quiet strength of his willowy carriage. It was no wonder every female in Ny envied the duchess.

He extended his hand and the two men grasped each other’s wrists and shook. “Well met, Lord Patkus. I am Vahn Rebono and this is timna, my optimess.”

Keedrina stared in awe, willing her jaw shut. His voice was deep-pitched and commanding, yet at the same time soothing and lyrical. She watched as he swept his arm to indicate the silver-banded woman at his side, the one named timna. He had given the slave a title, yet not even mentioned his own. It then dawned on her that this was the first she had heard the healer’s name—Pharn Patkus. Keedrina tried to etch all the names to memory as they were mentioned.

Lord Patkus spoke again, tugging Keedrina forward then releasing her in front of him. “And this is Keedrina of the rural area to the south of Ny, your highness. Her family lived next to a plot of land I own.”

Keedrina was suddenly unsure how to act in the presence of royalty. She started to curtsy, then thought better of it, dropped to one knee and bowed her head. Patkus took her by the arm but the duke waved his hand at him. She remained motionless except for the trembling she couldn’t control. What in Byntar ever possessed her to appear before the second highest ruler of the kingdom?

The duke stepped in front of her, extended a slender hand to her chin, and lifted gently. She swallowed hard as she tilted her head at his bidding, her cheeks warming. He spoke again, his voice even sweeter and more captivating than before. “Lady Keedrina? Very pleasing.” He pressed gently upwards on her chin. She would have to shrink from his touch or stand. She rose, trying to keep her knees from wobbling.

He looked down into her eyes. His eyes were pure black, the pupil indistinct from the iris. Keedrina was sure she would lose herself in the depths of his fathomless gaze. She was so transfixed by his eyes that it didn’t even register that he called her “Lady”. Her heart beat wildly, drowning nearly everything else from her thoughts. He must have heard it; everyone knew Elva hearing was superior to Itzi.

Perhaps he caught the sorrow reflected in her eyes, or perhaps he just then processed what the healer said before, but the duke broke the eye contact to look back at Lord Patkus. “You say she ‘lived’ next to your land? Has she moved?”

Keedrina and Patkus both shook their heads. The healer gave solemn explanation: “That is the reason for my presence here, your highness. Last night, five men attacked this girl’s mother and two sisters in their home. The mother and one of her sisters were raped. All three were brutally murdered. The youngest was merely a child of six. Their farmhouse was set ablaze and burned to the ground. Keedrina was not home when the attack took place and that is the only reason she stands before you today.”

“OUTRAGE!” Duke Vahn roared, shaking his fist.

Keedrina could hardly believe the range of vocal expressions he was capable of. She half-expected the walls to crumble at the intensity of it. A chill coursed her spine. Everyone in the tavern stopped what they were doing to stare at the duke.

“Do you know who did this?” he demanded.

Patkus nodded. “Her mother spoke to me before she died and I have some seed pods taken from the bodies that do not grow here. The attackers came from Dronak.”

“Lady Keedrina, did your father survive this?” the duke asked softly.

She would have sworn as fast as he changed tone that he must be two people. Keedrina shook her head. “My father died six years ago, your highness. My parents were still compacted at the time.” She used the Itzi term purposely. It was obvious by the fact he mentioned a father and called her “Lady” that he assumed she was Elva. She respected him too much to further the misconception. Deceit had brought enough sorrow already.

“Compacted?”

Keedrina turned her head as she manipulated her hair to uncover a rounded ear. “Yes, your highness. Itzi do not marry.”

The statue-like timna broke perfect form to gasp at the revelation.

The duke only nodded. “I do not care if you’re koopchuk. I will not have this in my duchy. I will catch the filthy knaves that did this. I swear this to you, Lady Keedrina. Now, do you have relatives to stay with?”

Keedrina thought a moment. She did have an aunt, but she was two days’ journey away and if Keedrina went, she would have to give up the only thing she had left—her henhouse. “None that I can stay with, your highness. I have a henhouse and poultry to my name. I will be fine.”

Lord Patkus shook his head.

The duke didn’t bother to inquire Lord Patkus’ reason for disagreeing. “You will stay at my guest cottage until I have brought you the heads of these killers,” the duke commanded. Before either Keedrina or the healer could object, he added, “That was not a suggestion. Lord Patkus, you will have someone care for her poultry at my expense. Now, any questions?” His tone suggested there had better not be. Keedrina shook her head.

Lord Patkus sighed softly and shook his head as well. “I would like to accompany you on the search, if you please, your highness. You may need a healer. Besides, I am the closest thing you have to a witness.”

The duke curled his lips slightly upward and gave him a little nod. “I would be glad for your help. Meet me at the East Gate in one hour.” He raised his voice and addressed the tavern. Most of the patrons had been watching since his outburst. “Any who wish to join us are welcome, but I will take no cowards. Blood will most likely be spilt—those who do not wish to see it should remain behind.”

He turned to timna. “Take Lady Keedrina to the guest cottage. Make sure she has everything she needs. You are not to mention to your mistress that she is Itzi, only that she is a subject whose cause I am undertaking. Tell her I am looking for outlaws and not to expect me for at least three days. If Saerula takes any afternoon trips, you may bring Lady Keedrina inside the keep, but otherwise you are to stay with her at the guest cottage, understood?”

“Yes, Master. timna will take care of Lady Keedrina. Safe journeys and Heavenlies be with you,” she said. She arose from her knees, bowed her head once to the duke, once to Lord Patkus, then turned and walked toward the door.

Keedrina stood stupefied.

The duke laid his hand on her shoulder. “Please go with timna, Lady Keedrina. I must be certain you are safe before I leave.”

Safe? This was the first it occurred to Keedrina that the marauders could come back, that being the only survivor of the family might put her in jeopardy. They wouldn’t know she hadn’t seen them. She was torn between new apprehension and lingering awe. That long-fingered hand on her shoulder prompted a wave of cozy warmth to traverse her entire body. “Thank you, your highness. It is much appreciated.” She bowed her head and then turned to follow timna.

--

Without ceremony, Vahn and Patkus parted company. The healer had to arrange for Keedrina’s henhouse to be tended, gather his supplies, and ready a horse.

Vahn mounted his horse, Fortitude, and headed to the home of his Captain of the Guard, Najost Shil. Vahn’s official Castle Guard boasted fifty men, itself an impressive number. Unofficially, there were many more, though the exact total and who precisely were among them was a secret. Only the king was allowed to have a bona fide army. If Vahn were discovered to have one, it would be treason.

He supplied his knights with swords, horses, and a monthly stipend, but no quarters. A bunkhouse in Rebono Keep’s curtain wall housed whatever guards were on duty. The rest of his knights stayed in their homes all over Ny. In a way, this was better. They could act as his eyes and ears as well as his faithful defenders. All of them were sworn to him alone.

“Your highness!” the muscular, white-haired man exclaimed upon seeing Vahn at his doorstep. Elva newborns could have gray or white hair, but even the oldest Itzi never acquired it. Byntarians universally kept their hair color for life.

“Good day, Captain Shil,” Vahn said. “I need all the men gathered for a posse at the East Gate in an hour.”

Shil frowned. “An hour?” Vahn briefed his captain on the marauders. Shil’s tanned face wrinkled in disgust. His eyes burned with righteous indignation as his hand clutched the hilt of his sword. “Consider it done, your highness.”

Captain Shil initiated the chain of notification that would rally knights from all corners of the city. He beckoned a squire with a curled finger and whispered. The squire shot off down the road. The squire would only have to locate two men. Each of them was responsible to notify two more, who did the same in turn. The chain had been carefully planned to notify everyone as quickly as possible.

Vahn had not been jesting to claim he would be ready in an hour. Over a hundred knights gathered under his black and silver standard at the East Gate. Last to arrive was Pharn Patkus. The healer’s eyes widened as he approached the large group of men clamoring about on horseback. Swords clinked lightly in practice parry sessions. Vahn grinned to himself when he saw Patkus trying to count heads.

Vahn raised his fist and immediately gained silence. He addressed them calmly, using a booming rich voice that carried well. He thanked them for coming, then relinquished attention to Lord Patkus to explain the particulars. Though the healer did not have nearly the volume Vahn did, he had such full attention he could have whispered. “The men we seek violated a twelve-year-old girl and her mother. They defiled the maidenhood treasures of a six-year-old.”

He had to stop while the men cried out in rage. Vahn surmised he had left these aspects unsaid earlier to spare Keedrina.

“They stabbed all three victims repeatedly, then set their house afire. The mother was still alive when I arrived and she told me that they taunted her in Dronakian accents. She saw five men, all bearing raven tattoos in their forearms.” Escaped slaves often obliterated their Permanent Marks with symbols, but ravens were especially infamous.

The men nodded in agreement. Hushed whispers sprung up, “The Dronak Death Gang.” It was the appellation coined by the Ny Gazette editor. They were notorious for attacking travelers in Dronak’s badlands. They left terror in their wake and never witnesses alive. This was the first time anyone had heard of them crossing the border north into Latoph. If Vahn had his way, it would be the last.

The king of Dronak had a price on their heads, which meant Vahn’s posse could track them over the border with full royal support. This pleased Vahn immensely. He was prepared to defy anyone necessary to have justice, but this was perfect. He could exact his vengeance and earn an ally at the same time. His lips curled upwards at the thought.

“Who is with me?” he shouted.

“I am,” came the unanimous shout back. Raised fists and swords punctuated their enthusiasm.

“Then follow me!” Vahn roared. He turned to Patkus. “Take us to Keedrina’s farmhouse. We can pick up the trail from there.” Patkus nodded and urged his horse forward with Vahn next to him. In a cloud of dust, they vacated the East Gate.

The healer led the posse to the ashen ruins. The sight of the destruction only strengthened the collective resolve. The rural community noticed the knights led by the duke’s banner. Several farmers, even a few who were Itzi, asked to join the search. Eyebrows raised, but Vahn welcomed any who wished to help. Itzi could be courageous when they had a cause. In truth, more were willing than able because so few owned horses.

The hoof marks near the destroyed farm were clear, but doubtless the outlaws would use every tracking trick to their advantage. However, in all the excitement, Vahn had not thought to fetch his dogs. He still had time to send someone back for them, but two of the farmers brought hunting dogs, negating any need to wait.

Some Itzi women arrived while the posse sifted through rubble and bandied strategies about. Vahn was touched when the women offered satchels of food to the gathered knights—Elva men they didn’t even know. He thanked everyone and promised to avenge Silla’s family. The little cluster of rural neighbors cheered the duke and his men as they rode off.

The posse followed tracks to the stream where Captain Shil reminded everyone to water the horses and fill all waterskins. Although the party had formed quickly, they were not ill-prepared. With the food from the Itzi women, they had enough to cover the few who had been less than thorough in their excited preparations.

The dogs proved invaluable when the trail obscured at the stream, for there were numerous tracks both to and from the brook’s edge. The posse split for a while, following the meandering rivulet in both directions, each team taking half the dogs. After they found the trail upstream, the downstream group rejoined the whole and all proceeded east in pursuit of the outlaws.

Vahn felt cautiously euphoric. He had a large group of men, spanning different ages and occupations, even breeds, and all to a common goal that couldn’t have been more noble—defending the helpless and avenging an unspeakable crime. His “army”, though of course, it couldn’t be called such, had rallied to him in under an hour. If his goals were met, he’d make an ally of the king of Dronak in the process.

--

Keedrina followed timna to Rebono Keep. The Itzi admired the twin Rebono crests adorning the wrought iron spindles of the double gate which stood at its entrance. In the center of the crest, a silver sword crossed an anchor inlaid with onyx. A stylized “R” in deep amethyst topped the design. In the lower left corner was a fish with hematite scales and the lower right corner depicted an orange overlaid in gold with a cabochon emerald for a leaf.

The guards looked to timna to explain the stranger. “This is Lady Keedrina. She is under Master Vahn’s protection and is to be quartered at the guest cottage until his return.” Keedrina was impressed with the authority in the voice of the slave. The guards took her word without question and opened the gates.

timna walked Keedrina to the cottage and opened the front door. Keedrina stood wide-eyed at the threshold, reluctant to set foot on the thick, luxurious rug. Inside were tables carved of costly teak and couches upholstered in velvet. Rich tapestries hung from the walls. All the windows had clear, smooth glass panes, not like the bumpy and mottled glass common everywhere else. Her jaw dropped.

The slave smiled at the farmgirl’s wonderment. She stepped in and motioned to her reluctant charge. “It’s all right, milady. This is where Master wants you. You wouldn’t want to see him angered, would you?”

Keedrina shook her head. “Absolutely not.” She bent over and removed her worn brogans, slipped sagging, home-knit socks from her feet, then stepped into the entry. timna smiled and started a tour, pointing out where everything was. Keedrina followed with her mouth agape, completely overcome with the opulence.

timna invited her to sit. Keedrina sat nervously on the edge of a velvet-cushioned couch. timna sank to her knees two feet away on a lush fur rug. Keedrina took one look and slipped from the couch to the floor, mimicking timna’s pose.

timna frowned. “Is there anything wrong with the couch?”

“No, not at all. I just feel strange up there with you down here.” timna didn’t object to her choice, but she still avoided her gaze. As Keedrina thought about it, moxi had done that too. It then hit her why she had been so uncomfortable around moxi. It felt incongruous being called “lady” and being treated as superior. It felt strange with someone older and even stranger with an Elva. She had always been taught that Elva were stronger, smarter, and better than Itzi. One would only have to meet the duke for proof that was true. Keedrina’s heart still fluttered at the thought of him.

“t-t-timna? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Lady Keedrina. What is it?” timna straightened her back.

Keedrina recognized that same regal kneel as the one timna held when the duke stroked her hair. Keedrina could almost see him doing it even now, so vividly had the scene been etched to her mind. That action had struck a chord deep within her. She was loathe to admit it even to herself, but she wanted to kneel at the duke’s feet, with his hand on her hair like it had been on timna’s.

“Are you happy being a slave?” Keedrina didn’t know how else to word it. She suspected timna might be forbidden to answer, but it was a start.

timna acted like the question didn’t bother her in the least. She held out her right forearm. Tattooed just below the shining silver wrist band in half-inch numerals was a 22. “Do you know what the numbers mean?”

“No,” Keedrina admitted.

“In 1022, on Queen’s Jubilee, timna will be free—”

“That’s next year!”

“Exactly,” timna continued. “In one year and two weeks, timna will be free. timna was sold to a merchant for three years to pay off a debt. When timna went to the ITC, Master Vahn bought timna from the merchant. He is strict and does not allow laziness or lax manners, but he never harms timna as long as timna obeys.”

Keedrina nodded thoughtfully. “Do you have to talk like that? Lord Patkus’ slave didn’t talk that way.”

“It is up to an owner what standards he wants of his property. Some masters think third-person speech is a silly old custom. Some consider it a mark of excellence. timna uses it because it pleases Master Vahn.”

Keedrina nodded, working up the courage to ask an awkward question. “Please don’t be afraid of me. I’m not trying to get you in trouble or anything...really.” Keedrina fidgeted with the hem of her tunic. “I just never met a slave before today. I always thought slaves were miserable wretches that were constantly whipped and worked to death.”

timna laughed. “You have heard too many tales. Perhaps the galley ships stocked with criminals and Permanents are treated that way, but they are rarely female. Are you thinking of selling yourself?”

How had timna guessed? Oh yes, she was a homeless orphan. Nevertheless, she had the henhouse and the chickens. “I’m not in debt,” Keedrina said. “And I’m legally an adult.”

The Elva blanched. “Please forgive timna, milady. She did not mean to suggest...”

“Stop,” Keedrina whispered. “You were right. I am thinking about it.”

timna breathed a sigh of relief. Evidently, it was important not to offend.

Keedrina reached out and patted timna’s knee. She felt so kindred in spirit with the slave, so aching to become what timna seemed to be, but so much had happened, Keedrina could barely think straight. Could her mind be confusing wants with needs? Was she dreaming blindly?

“timna, you said the duke never harms you. But does he...” she took a deep breath—this was difficult to ask, “...does he force you to his bed?” Keedrina knew little about mating, even less about Elva customs or slavery parameters.

timna chuckled. “He would not have to force timna. If he wanted timna, she would give herself, but he is faithful to Mistress Saerula—even since she became with child. His heart and loins are completely hers.” timna paused; her brows furrowed a moment and then relaxed. “No one shares Master’s bed but Mistress.”

Keedrina released her held breath. That had been her greatest fear and the hardest question to ask. There were still more questions, but not for timna. “Thank you for talking to me.”

“You’re welcome. Is there anything timna can get you before she goes back to work?”

“Work? Have I been keeping you from something? Oh, I’m sorry. No, I need nothing, thank you.”

“No apologies necessary. Master Vahn asked timna to see to your needs. timna will bring back supper later. Please, enjoy Master’s hospitality. You appreciate it far more than the counts and barons.” She stood from her kneel in a single fluid motion and padded quietly away on bare feet.

Keedrina’s mind swam with uncertainty. She knew her perception was clouded. She leaned over on the fur until she lay on her side. Having slept so long the night before, she did not sleep, but she did some heavy thinking. Eventually, her defenses dropped and she allowed herself a private cry of grief for her family.

Order Now!

<< Go Back