Huge atop his destrier, he was equally impressive on his throne. He wasn’t wearing the vizor that gave him a feral smile but a circlet of silver that, rather than leaves, had been worked into a series of claws.
Two guards, wearing armbands of silver stood by his throne. Their shaved heads shone with perspiration.
She was scared, but also eager. With a new name, she’d never go hungry again, never be beaten, or toil in the fields or taken at will. She’d have power.
He motioned for the guards to leave, and they left in silence. She stared up at the Tu’el until it seemed she would fall.
He spoke.
“The child is male?”
“Yes.”
“Is he deformed in any way?”
“No.”
“Is he in health?”
She wanted to scream that of course he was healthy because he’d slurped like a pig all morning, but she only said, “Yes.”
But her voice had an edge, and in the vaulted hall, her irritation was magnified. She was horrified when she heard the echo. He was amused. Ah, the anger.
“Are you in health, in body as well as mind?”
It was an odd question, and coming from anyone else, it would have implied concern. But this was the Tu’el. He wanted something else.
“I am quite well,” she said. “In both respects.”
When he didn’t answer, she felt her temper rise. Then, an unexpected pleasure seized her body. A shared pleasure. Coming from him and flowing into her. She felt herself blush and looked down.
“I will take only what you give,” he said, repeating what he’d said at the Hungry Rocks. This time she knew what to say.
“I give this child,” she said, and the next words popped out unexpectedly. “He is mine to give.”
The Tu’el rose from the throne and walked past her. When she didn’t move, he turned, motioning her to follow.
He led her to a barren hall, no guards, no wolves at their feet, until they reached an archway that took up most of the wall. All sense of place and time had been lost, and she relaxed her hold on the babe. He was quiet now; unbeknownst to her, she’d nearly squeezed him lifeless.
