Threads of Gold (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 6) Page 8

  That uniform told me she must be one of the palace servants. “The — the king?” I repeated, panic clear in my voice. I looked down at the chemise I wore, the messy braid looped over one shoulder.

  “Yes, my lady.” She reached toward the foot of the bed and gathered up the dressing gown lying there. I had a vague recollection of pulling it off and draping it over the bed, right before oblivion claimed me. “There is no time for you to dress, but put this on.”

  I pushed back the covers and stood. My neck and shoulders ached somewhat, most likely from that intense session of spinning the night before. The serving woman held the dressing gown so I could shrug into it. Then I tied the sash tightly.

  “Here,” the woman said, turning toward the bedside table. I noted that a bowl of water scented with lavender sat there. She picked up the cloth lying next to it and dabbed my face. The lavender did refresh me somewhat, although it was certainly no substitute for a proper bath. “And let me see to your hair.” With deft fingers, she undid my untidy plait and then pulled a comb out of her pocket.

  No sooner had she begun to run the comb through my hair, however, than a knock came at the door. She handed the comb to me and hurried off to answer the knock, while I tugged through the worst of the tangles as best I could. I heard her say, “Your Majesty,” and then I could do nothing except set the comb down and move forward to greet him, all too aware of my current unkempt state and wishing that I had not slept quite so late.

  To my dismay, King Elsdon was not alone. No, the duke again accompanied him, a glint entering his eyes as he took in my dressing gown and loose hair. There was nothing I could do, save curtsey, and so I essayed one as best I could, praying that they would not notice the bare toes peeking out from underneath the silken folds of my dressing gown.

  The king seemed singularly unconcerned about my appearance. “And what do you have for us this morning, Annora?”

  “What you asked for, Your Majesty,” I replied with as much dignity as I could muster. “You may see for yourself.” In that moment, I did not care whether the serving woman overheard me.

  But the duke did seem determined to keep my spinning a secret for he tilted his head at the woman and said, “Wait out in the salon.”

  She hurried out, even as I pointed toward the door that joined my bedchamber with the study next to it. Both men swept past me and into that room, although I couldn’t help noting the way the duke glanced back at me, a smile touching his lips. No doubt he was thinking of how he would like to see me as I was, only after emerging from his bed rather than my own.

  To let him see how he had discomfited me would only be a sign of weakness, and so I entered the study with my head held high, and did not meet the duke’s gaze. The king was standing next to the spinning wheel, running his fingers over the thick mass of gold thread that rested on the bobbin.

  “By the gods, Edmar, this is even more than she spun the night before last!”

  “Does it please you, Your Majesty?” I asked.

  “Very much, Annora,” he replied, smiling. Somehow, though, that smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and I felt the beginnings of a chill somewhere in my midsection.

  Even so, I thought I had no choice but to press on. “Certainly between what I spun last night and the night before that, it should be enough to discharge my father’s debt. I thank you for your hospitality, but I think it is time for me to go home.”

  The king’s eyes narrowed. “That is my decision to make, not yours, young woman.”

  Oh, gods. My feelings of foreboding apparently had not been exaggerated. I could not help but glance at the duke, although I doubted I would get any help from that quarter. He, too, wore a smile, but I could tell it was at my expense.

  I was well and truly trapped here.

  Desperate, I said, “Your Majesty, I have my own spinning wheel at home, one that suits me better than this one, grand though it might be. If — if you would like me to spin more for you, I am happy to oblige. But I could do so even more efficiently at home, with my own wheel.”

  “We will have it brought to you,” he said, still watching me from between his eyelashes.

  I knew then that it mattered not what I said or did. The king had happened upon a miraculous means of filling his coffers, and he had no intention of letting it go.

  Not looking at him — for I knew he would see the hatred burning in my eyes — I replied, “That would be excellent, Your Majesty. Thank you.” How I wished for the courage to ask for one small favor, only to see my sister for a few moments, but I held my tongue. Something told me that it was better for the king not to know how much I missed her. Why show evidence of a weakness he might attempt to exploit?

  He nodded, then gestured toward the thread. “If you will take that, Edmar — ”

  The duke stepped forward and removed the skein of gold from the bobbin. I wondered then why he was tasked with such things, rather than one of the servants, and then realized that my king wanted as few people as possible to know of the miracles I wrought — or rather, that Rumple and I wrought — each night with the spinning wheel. The guard in the dungeon had seen something of the thread I had spun, and that could not be helped, but I guessed he had probably been handsomely paid to keep his mouth closed on the subject…if he was lucky.

  And the study door was kept locked, the key in my possession. No doubt the serving woman who had awoken me had been admonished to keep away from that door.

  Seemingly satisfied with his latest haul, the king gave me a dismissive nod. “Then we will leave you to prepare for your day, Annora. We will come back tomorrow.”

  “Not quite so early, I hope,” I said tartly. After all, what did I care if I offended him? I had something he desperately desired.

  As the king began to bridle at my tone, Lord Edmar stepped in, saying coolly, “My apologies for that, my lady. I fear my anticipation exceeded the propriety of visiting at such an early hour.”

  Which of course was a lie. I knew it was the king who had brought him here, rather than the reverse. But he was interceding to shield me from King Elsdon’s wrath, and I had to be grateful to him for that.

  But not overly so, for I knew he did so only to make himself look better in my eyes. It will take a great deal more than that, Lord Edmar, I thought, to coax me into your bed. I said nothing, though, instead only inclining my head. That seemed to mollify the king slightly, or perhaps he had merely decided that he had wasted enough time on me, and wished to get to his breakfast. At any rate, they were soon gone, the serving woman shutting the door behind them.

  “I am Rashelle,” she told me, once we were safely alone together. “The steward has assigned me to you, my lady.”

  Even more evidence that the king intended to keep me here for a very long time. I wanted to sigh. That, however, would only tell the woman who stood before me that I was not pleased with my current situation. She had a kind enough face, and was quite pretty, but I could not allow myself to trust her. For all I knew, she had been placed here to spy on me, as well as to do my hair and fetch my bath.

  A bath. That would be a good starting place. After that, well…I supposed all I could do was wait for darkness to come, and Rumple to return.

  * * *

  Two servants appeared late in the morning, carrying my scratched old spinning wheel with them. They set it down in the study, then picked up the one of gleaming walnut that I had used for the past two nights and spirited it away.

  This time I did sigh, mainly because Rashelle was off in another part of my suite, dusting. I knew she did so only to have something to occupy herself, for the apartment the king had given me was spotless and beautiful, and did not appear to have been lived in for some time. At least, there was certainly no trace of its former occupant.

  I mentioned as much to Rashelle, thinking it a harmless enough topic of conversation. To my surprise, she shot me a wicked smile, then said, “Ah, that is because it once belonged to the king’s mistress. But she pressed her sui
t too hard, wishing to be queen, and he sent her away. No one has lived here for more than a year.”

  That would explain its current empty state, and also the luxury of the furnishings. The king had been widowed for some years, and so I supposed one could not begrudge him some form of female companionship, although it surprised me somewhat that he had been quite so open about it. Then again, I did not pretend to understand the workings of the court. They were as far above me as the stars in the heavens, and their movements were equally inscrutable.

  I worried that Rashelle would stay in the suite, and I would have no opportunity for any privacy with Rumple. However, after she had dressed my hair for the night, and put away the gown of silver-stitched silk I had worn, she told me, “I will leave you now, my lady. But if there is anything you find you need, please ring the bell. It is in the main salon, in the corner by the hearth, in case you had not noticed it before this.”

  Although I had noted the bell pull earlier, I had had no reason to use it, as my meals had been brought up promptly, and Rashelle had scarcely left the suite. And I had no intention of using it now, unless something calamitous occurred. Right then, I was only itching to be alone, so that Rumple might return to me.

  I thanked her, though, and after that she mercifully departed and shut the door behind her. The thought crossed my mind to wedge a chair under the door handle so no one could enter without my permission, but I soon abandoned that idea. After all, my strange mage friend had the ability to disappear in the blink of an eye, so even if someone did intrude without my leave, he would most likely be gone before anyone could discover that I’d had a visitor in my luxurious prison.

  After taking up the lit candelabra that sat on one of the tables in my bedchamber and making sure I had the key to the door, I went on into the study. My poor battered spinning wheel looked very much out of place in that room of carved furniture and silk curtains, but there was nothing I could do about that. All I could do was hope that my plan to escape home hadn’t backfired on me too badly. I had not used the wheel in several years, and, for all I knew, it might not still function properly.

  When I sat in front of it, however, and began to work the treadle, the wheel moved easily enough, with a soft whispery sound that brought to mind winter evenings by the hearth back home, when I would spin soft yarn to be knitted into stockings and Iselda would lie on her stomach on the rug, reading one of her books. It was not, perhaps, the most ladylike of postures, but she had no mother to guide her in such things, and of course Father was rarely home. Even if he had been, I doubted he would have noticed.

  Thoughts of Iselda awoke an ache in my heart. I had to tell myself that she was well, that as long as I kept making this golden thread for the king, she and my father would be left unmolested. Not that I cared overmuch what happened to my father at that point, but on the other hand, neither did I wish for my sister to be left with no parent at all. And of course I had no idea if I would ever be allowed to leave this place.

  Rumple’s arrival was hardly louder than the soft whispered hum of the spinning wheel. A shiver of dark movement caught my eye, a swish of his cloak, and then he was standing there in the corner, watching me as I set the wheel through its paces.

  He stepped forward, then paused and cocked his head as he regarded me. “Was there something wrong with the other wheel, Annora? For this one appears to have seen better days.”

  I sighed. “No, there was nothing wrong with the other wheel, save that I attempted a stratagem which backfired on me. I had hoped that by telling the king I would spin better on my own wheel, I might be allowed to go home, but of course he would never hear of that, and instead had my spinning wheel brought here.”

  “That is unfortunate.” This time, it seemed as if he took care to keep some distance from me, for he had stopped several paces away, the spinning wheel’s bulk between us. “So what you spun last night was not enough to satisfy His Majesty, I take it?”

  Something seemed to tighten within my chest. I swallowed, then said, “No, I fear it was not. Rumple, I do not think I can ever spin enough for him. He intends to keep me here to do his bidding and fill his coffers, night after night. How can I expect you to continue to come to my aid? Sooner or later, we must stop, and then the king will have me executed, or give me over to Lord Edmar to be his plaything.”

  Rumple seemed to stiffen at that pronouncement. Then he shook his head. “I will not allow that to come to pass.”

  Hope flared in me, and I rose from my chair and went toward him. From somewhere within I found the courage to place a hand on his arm, shrouded in the heavy folds of his cloak. It felt solid and strong beneath my fingers, as if he had reason to use his muscles. An odd tremor seemed to go through him, and then he stilled.

  I was not sure what that meant, but I forged ahead, asking, “You can easily come and go from this place. Could you not spirit me away, take me with you the next time you disappear?”

  “I cannot,” he replied, his tone calm but sad. “My power is only strong enough to bring me hence, not to take you away with me. And even if I could, where would I take you? If I brought you home, the king’s guards would only discover where you had gone and would bring you straight back here. And I fear that His Majesty would have lost patience, and would return you to the dungeon. At least now you are housed in some comfort.”

  That was true enough, although I hated to admit it. Despair began to edge its way up within me, and once again that unwelcome tightness seized my throat. I blinked, feeling the hot sting of tears within my eyes.

  “And so there truly is no escape,” I murmured, not able to speak any louder than that because of the increasing constriction in my throat. “I will be kept here forever, and the only release I can hope for is that the king will die someday, and perhaps Prince Harlin will find it in his heart to let me go.”

  I could say no more, because in that moment the tears which had been choking me suddenly overflowed, blurring the candlelit room, the shadowy figure who stood a few feet away. Oh, the ignominy of it, to weep like a distraught child in front of one who commanded such amazing powers! But by then I truly was at my wit’s end, the fear I had attempted to hold back the past few days now engulfing me as the dire nature of my predicament finally began to sink in.

  Then I could feel arms going around me, heavy draperies of wool falling over my arms, warming my chilled and shaky limbs. Perhaps I should have startled away, but I sensed nothing predatory in Rumple’s embrace, only a desire to lend me what comfort he could.

  “Shh,” he said, voice a soft rumble in my ears. “I know you are frightened, but you must not give up yet. I will think of something.”

  His words should have reassured me, but they did not. I continued to weep, my face burrowed into his chest, which felt quite broad and strong. Indeed, I understood then why a woman would go to a man for solace, because despite my worry, I could not help but notice how good it was then to have his arms around me. A strange little thrill moved through my body. I could not quite understand what it was, for I had never experienced anything like it before. All I knew was that I did not want it to stop.

  It did, of course. After a few moments, once my sobbing had begun to quiet down, Rumple took me gently by the arms and held me away from him. And I realized what I had just done, letting a man I hardly knew hold me while we were alone together and unattended.

  “I am sorry,” I said, as soon as I had control of my voice again. “That was — that was unforgivable. I beg your pardon.”

  “It was quite forgivable, and understandable as well. You are a young woman who has never known anything but the safety of her home. And now you have been plucked from your family and brought here to serve the king’s whims.” He paused then, as if deciding how best to put what he had to say next. “I would think it far stranger if you did not break down at some point. But now that is over, and you must be strong. Can you do that?”

  I nodded, lifting a fold of my dressing gown to blot my watering
eyes, since I had no handkerchief with me. “I will try.”

  “Very good.” Another hesitation, something in his manner seeming to suggest that he wanted to reach out and offer a reassuring hand on my arm or shoulder. But he did not, and instead turned toward the spinning wheel. “I will think on this, Annora, and do my best to find some way to free you from this place. In the meantime, though, I believe you have some gold to spin.”

  Managing a watery smile, I went to my chair and sat down, then gathered up some straw and set it in my lap. How odd that after only two evenings of such activity, it should already feel almost normal to me. I knew that Rumple was right — I must keep on spinning, so the king would have no reason to punish me.

  And after all, my mysterious benefactor had kept me safe so far. I had to trust him now, and hope he truly could discover the means to save me forever from King Elsdon’s clutches.

  If he could, then he truly must be a very great mage.

  * * *

  The next morning, Lord Edmar arrived alone to retrieve the golden thread. It was on my tongue to snap that I was surprised the king should already think my activities so commonplace that he would not come to fetch his treasure, but I somehow managed to remain silent. Rashelle was puttering about the suite, continuing with her eternal dusting, but her presence now heartened rather than annoyed me. At least it meant the duke would not attempt anything too untoward. And I had taken the thread from its bobbin the night before and concealed it under my mattress, so there was no chance of her discovering it, unless she intended to remove the entire thing so she could turn it over. That she might find the gold was something the king seemed to have forgotten when he had set the maid to be my watchdog, but I did not want to take the risk either way. King Elsdon had already shown himself to be an intemperate man, and no doubt he would blame me if Rashelle managed to locate the thread.

  “You are looking rather pale, my lady,” Lord Edmar remarked as I handed the heavy wad of golden thread to him. “I think you need a good walk in the sunshine.”