Unexpected Arrival
Joclan raced into the study, his monk’s hood in disarray around his neck. “Sir.”
Sabin let out a tight breath and set aside his new attack strategy. “What is it?”
“A woman’s arrived. Her family sent a large payment for us to keep her here. And her guardian warned us she’ll try to leave.” His gaze shot to the direction of Sabin’s bride’s chambers. “What would you have me do?”
Sabin rubbed his brow and stood. “I’ll go see her personally and speak with her guardian. Have my bride knocked out and taken to my family’s manor on the other side of the training yard. No one’s to mention she’s here.”
“Yes, sir.” He saluted and left.
Sabin donned his robe, covered his head, and walked through the secret passageways.
The woman must’ve needed refuge. But from what?
He glanced around. She couldn’t find out about his bride. Especially if she was a flight risk. If anyone questioned her, she’d say something she shouldn’t.
He stormed into the large prayer room of the inner monastery and fixed his posture to exude serenity.
Gazes snapped to him, though his subordinates playing their parts remained in a praying position; their hands pressed together in front of them, heads lowered. The fact he was personally seeing to the new guest showed them the guest was likely trouble, though it could also mean she was important. However, it was more likely the first.
He schooled his features and pulled one large metal door open, stepped through, and closed it behind him.
Ock sidled up next to him. “Sir, there are guards from Troubled Mountain outside. The woman, she must be important to the Ka family.”
His heart jolted. “Does she wear a face covering?”
“Yes. But all their servants within the residence do. It’s mandatory.”
His feet glued to the hardwood floor. If all women did, then how’d they know they’d captured the right woman? “Are you certain the woman brought to me is Lord Ka’s daughter?”
Ock nodded. “She had her family’s silver flower talisman on her. Servants aren’t allowed to carry them.”
True. And though dirty, her dress was made from fine fabric.
He continued, and Ock showed him to the head office where two women sat in hard chairs, their rigid backs to him. The fabric on the one with the head covering was coarse; not the refinery one wore in the Ka’s family.
“Forgive me for making you wait.” He walked around the sturdy wooden table and took a seat in a padded chair. If the sum the guardian offered was substantial enough, he’d take in her charge.
Sabin lifted his gaze. His breath caught. Livid, stunning, vivid green eyes threatened to enthrall him.
He swallowed, determined to focus. So he turned his attention to the other woman with wrinkles lining her hardened eyes. “How can I be of help?”
“Good afternoon, sir. I hate to bother you, but my master’s home was invaded. Out of fear, I’ve taken all I have from my family’s savings and brought my daughter here.”
The younger woman next to the woman stiffened.
Sabin offered a side glance. Her rounded eyes were nothing like the dark brown of the other woman, all traces of anger gone.
A lie. The younger woman wasn’t the woman’s daughter.
He climbed to his feet and straightened his robe. “This is a holy place, madame. To lie to a monk is to lie to the gods.”
Kahli’s pulse quickened. Praise the gods, the head monk didn’t believe her assigned lady-in-waiting’s lies. She allowed a smile and relaxed her muscles. Soon, they’d be kicked out.
Dalda fell to her knees and bowed. “Forgive me, sir. Though disfigured, my charge is important to my master’s family. I only mean to find her a safe place to stay for a while.”
The monk’s thick, dark brow quirked.
Dread cooled her innards. No, he couldn’t grow interested. She opened her mouth—Dalda sat up and pinched her hard.
Pain spiraled in the spot and spread.
For all that was sacred! Kahli slapped the servant, stood, and backed away. No matter what, the woman had no right to lay a hand on her.
The monk’s throat cleared. “Ladies. This is not a place to fight in.”
“P-please, sir, may I speak with you alone?” Dalda clamored to her feet, and Kahli took another cautious step away, ready to strike her harder should she raise a hand toward her. None of her servants ever dared to hurt her.
“Give me one good reason why I should, or you may take your charge and leave.” His stance was strong and rigid.
Dalda’s shoulders rolled back. “She’s in mortal peril.”
As if. And why should he care? He was a monk. It wasn’t his problem.
Kahli strode to the door and let herself out. The sooner she went home, the better.
She closed the door behind her and ambled over to the bench a few steps away.
A monk approached, his gait casual and calm, dipped his head, and sat next to her. “My child, are you in trouble? I noticed there were guards outside the entrance.”
She cringed. No, she wasn’t in any trouble.
No one else was nearby, so she leaned close to the nice monk. “I’ve been brought here under false pretenses.” She kept her voice at a whisper. “Please, sir, allow me to leave once they depart.”
His posture firmed. “You’re, you’re not mute.”
“No. My apologies, but you were deceived. Please help me, sir.”
His gaze shifted. “Who are you?”
Drat. She’d put herself in a quandary. “I cannot say.”
“Why not?”
She gripped the cheap fabric of her skirt. “Because no one other than my family knows I’m here and it must remain that way.” If he knew who she was, then he wouldn’t likely let her go. No, Kahli needed to escape so she could find out about her sister’s disappearance.
Consequences
Sabin walked the ladies to the gate where a carriage and four guards in red and black regalia stood waiting. The young woman stepped further, but he put out his arm, stopping her. She must’ve thought he meant for them both to leave. With the fortune presented, he couldn’t turn her away. Besides, she was mute and of little consequence.
Her delicate hands balled up at her sides. However, she stood still as the older woman gestured to the waiting guards, who nodded and headed to the back of the carriage.
Hooves beat the ground further down the road.
A man in the same red and black regalia—except for a red plume on his helmet—rode into sight, golden eyes gleaming.
Sabin let his other hand hover over his hidden dagger. Should the newcomer present a problem, he’d end him, kill the guards, the older woman, and interrogate the younger woman. The money would stay with him.
The four guards lifted a large wooden trunk from the back of the carriage as the man on the horse slowed, then stopped a few feet away.
“Kahli.” He slipped from his horse, strode over, and settled in front of the younger woman. “Do all you were told. Three months; I’ll solve this problem in three months, then you may return. Trust me, Kahli. I do this for you.” He reached out, but the lady stepped away.
The older woman growled, stomped over, and got in Kahli’s face. “You should be grateful for his promise.” Her hand flew and struck the younger woman across the cheek, a slap ringing out.
Sabin pushed Kahli back and clenched his hand. She shouldn’t have struck the younger woman in front of him. Should she do it again, he’d do something about it.
The newcomer’s golden eyes hardened as his hand flew—metal complained against leather from his sword and glinted in the sunlight. Warm blood splattered Sabin and his new charge before the older woman’s head fell, severed from her body.
“Forgive me, Kahli.” The man carelessly pushed the body away with his foot. “Tell me she hasn’t laid a hand on you before now?” He acted as though the young woman could speak.
Sabin nudged her further behind him. “She struck the miss in my office earlier.”
The man spit on the body. “May her soul never know peace.”
Kahli moved forward, lifted her hands, put her fingers together, and dipped while inclining her head in the most graceful bow.
“Three months, Kahli. Follow the instructions. I’ll make every moment up to you then.”
That was enough. Sabin snapped his fingers. Four of his people dressed as monks moved in front of him and relieved the four guards of the chest. “I’ll not only offer her sanctuary, but hire guards to protect her. No one will bother the lady while she’s in my care.”
The man gave a respectful bow. “Thank you, sir. I look forward to reading your weekly report.”
Him? The weekly report was for the head of staff only, which the man before Sabin clearly wasn’t, but someone of rank within Lord Ka’s guard. Which meant the woman beside Sabin was no ordinary woman.
The man held out a leather pouch. “For clothing for the lady. Please allow her to dress in refinery.”
More money. Excellent. Sabin took it. “I’ll see to it she’s given more comfortable clothing, but refinery will no doubt get ruined here. Worry not; the lady will be fine.”
“You have my thanks.” His golden gaze locked on Kahli and brightened. “Three months. Stay, Kahli.”
Kahli finished rinsing the soap from her body and long hair under the trickle of cold water and quickly dried off. Never again would she complain about how long it took for her servants to fill and warm her bath.
She used the unscented deodorants and lotions, and dressed in a simple gown with a matching face covering. It wasn’t the best fabric, but it was a lot better than what Dalda made her wear. That stupid woman. How dare she make Kahli dress in harsh fabric. There was no need, not even to conceal her identity. She took things too far.
Kahli gathered her dirty clothing and left the women’s bathing chamber. She’d have to learn how to clean her clothes herself, but the dress Dalda made her wear wasn’t even fit for a prisoner.
The one monk she’d spoken to outside the head monk’s office approached her with a slate tablet and piece of chalk. “Trade me. I’ll see those clothes burned.”
Granted. She gingerly handed her bundled-up bloodstained dress and took the board. She wrote ‘Thank you’ and showed it to him.
His gaze scrutinized her handwriting. It was sheer perfection. She was also apt with calligraphy. Maybe he’d give her parchment, a brush, an inkstick, and an inkstone so she could practice.
The monk’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “You’re welcome. May I take that for a little bit? There’s a little crack in the tablet I didn’t notice before. I’ll bring you a new one.”
Sure. But first, she’d make her request. Kahli reached for some hanging fabric from his grasp and started cleaning—
“No, miss. I wanted to look at your handwriting a little longer. It’s...uh, it’s rather beautiful.”
Yes, it was; something she worked hard to perfect. She smiled, held up a finger, then cleaned the tablet.
Kahli wrote out ‘May I please have a brush, parchment, an inkstick, and an inkstone?’.
His gaze lifted and locked on her. “What for?”
She wrote smaller in the little space below ‘Practice calligraphy.’.
Again, he swallowed. “Yes. I’ll bring it back along with your tablet. At dinner. I’ll give it to you at dinner.”
She nodded and turned away.
“Uh, miss.” His throat cleared. “Your room is this way.”
Drat. She was going to go and sit in the outer part of the monastery where people went to pray and confess. Perhaps she’d glimpse some news about her sister’s disappearance. She’d have to sneak away after the monk showed her to her room.