Page 126 of Tashama
“In Princess Tashama’s bedchambers there’s a sapphire necklace…”
Deloria clasped her hand to her mouth, and her eyes watered.
“Precious is our time, Deloria. We must retrieve the necklace at once.”
Deloria studied Aleron and Tashama, then said to the lieutenant, “What have you done?”
Tashama spoke up. “Quickly, Deloria, I must have my necklace.”
The young girl’s eyes widened, then she quickly curtsied. “My lady…”
“We will wait for you, but you must hurry.”
“Deloria.” The lieutenant patted her hand while her green eyes reflected the terror she must have felt.
“He will kill us all,” Deloria whispered. “It will matter not that I am Loran’s niece.”
Tashama shook her head. “It’s too late. They come for me now.” She said to the lieutenant, “You must find a way to bring the necklace to me, wherever I may end up.” She grabbed Aleron’s arm and hurried him down the hall.
“Where do we go now?” Aleron whispered to Tashama
When she saw the guards headed in their direction, she shook her head. “To prison, I fear.”
Early the next morning,Tashama woke to find herself manacled to the wall of a small cell where two other men sat chained on an opposite wall. As she studied them, one of the men said, “What would a woman of the Bachava order be doing in here?”
“What are you in here for?” Tashama sat up straighter on the rock-hard floor.
Neither answered her, so Tashama reached up and pulled a pin from her veil. For several minutes, she worked on her chains while the men watched, then one finally said, “Murder.”
Tashama looked up at them. “Both of you?”
The other nodded.
“You didn’t answer my question,” the man said.
“I’m overthrowing Loran.”
The men sat in silence for a moment, then both laughed out loud. “You’re doing a mighty good job of it.”
“Thank you.” Tashama undid her manacles. Tashama hastened to the locked door.
The two men stood up. “Free us too,” the men pleaded in unison.
Tashama studied them, then shook her head. “Had you killed for a noble cause, I would have freed you, but you murdered for profit.”
“We will call the guard.”
Tashama poked her face through the bars of her cell and called out, “Sire?”
“Over here, Tashama,” Aleron said from an adjoining cell.
She reached her hand out to his bars, but she could not reach his manacled hands. Tashama rubbed her forehead, then sat on the floor as she grew dizzy. She envisioned Balthazar’s beard curling down to the tip of his sequined-toed shoes. Frowning, she whispered, “Balthazar.” His image wavered before her as she reached out to him, but when she touched the figure, it vanished. “Balthazar!” she screamed.
“She’s crazy,” one of the men said.
“Tashama,” Aleron called out to her. His voice deepened with concern.
Tashama rubbed her forehead when Balthazar appeared before her again. He drew symbols in the air, then spoke without a sound.
