Page 18 of Tashama
What did you think, prince of my dreams? That you would send me here to silence me?The tips of her fingers touched the sun-drenched moss.Your skin is as soft and warm.She closed her eyes.Your fingers on my skin stir longings I dare not reveal to your sorcerer. If he were to know I am the true ruler of Karthland…She shuddered.I could be a pawn used to obtain concessions against my very own people.
“Sire,you’re scheduled to see the Alsate’s ambassador,” Carissian said.
The prince continued to pace. “Tell me why the Karthlander woman is so dangerous. You haven’t given me one good reason.” He stopped only long enough to glower at his advisor. “You should have seen the way her people cheered her. I’ve never seen a woman affect a group of men so. Never.” He renewed his pacing.
“Sire, the?—”
“Her green eyes distract me.”
Carissian shook his head. “Sire, you?—”
“She shouldn’t have been taken to the compound. She’s stirring up trouble there, don’t you sense it?”
“The woman is a?—”
“She is nobody. How can she rouse the men so?” The prince took a deep breath. “The Karthlander healer cared for her injuries adequately, but she shouldn’t have been left there.” He sat down on his throne.
“Should I have the ambassador shown?—”
The prince jumped up from his seat. “She cannot stay there. You should’ve advised me better, Carissian.” He strode out of the throne room.
Carissian hurried after him. “Sire, I can see what you have in mind, but?—”
“Then you already know what I will do.”
By late afternoon,Tashama had surveyed the grounds. Now, she sat on a stone bench to monitor the movements of the guards.
“Are you really going to try to escape, miss?” a voice said from a little way off.
Twelve men stood ten feet behind her.
She nodded, then turned her attention to the gate when a wagon rolled into the compound. She noted the time as the men lined up for supper. “All very civilized.”
“Do you have the gift?” one of the men asked.
“We’re not to converse, gentlemen, by order of your general.”
“Are you really Tashama?” another asked.
“Really, gentlemen, I wouldn’t wish you ill tidings.”
Before she could join the others for her food, the first one in line hurried to bring the plate to her. “Why, thank you.” She took the plate from him, and as she touched his hand, her eyes grew big.
“What’s wrong, miss?” He steadied her plate.
“She touched you. She has the gift,” one of the men hurried to say, growing closer to Tashama.
“What did you see, miss?”
“Your general—he doesn’t want me to speak with you—any of you.”
“What did you see, miss?” the man persisted.
She smiled. “You’ll escape from here in two days.”
“And me?” another said, grabbing her arm.
“Oh!” she cried out.
