Sins of Basilia (Shrouded Thrones Book 4) Read online

  “I am honored to listen. You live in my memory as a caring queen, and one who treated me with kindness. Your goodness in my regard means even more now. You could have easily despised me for being the product of your husband’s infidelity.”

  “There is no such word in Issa. But I do understand your meaning.” She licked her cracked lips. “Were you aware I was once Basilian?”

  “I may have been told, but after a marriage is performed, our kingdoms of origin are put aside and no longer regarded, so it never crossed my thoughts.”

  “I was raised in Basilia and know of the one true God. The late King Roland’s father had a sister, and I am her daughter. My mother has been dead for many years, and I believe my choice of husbands expedited her passing. Like Pasha, I ran away with an Issan lover. I was convinced I could keep Imran to myself and stop his carousing, which I did for a while. He often encouraged me to take a lover, but I had no desire to do so. Until…”

  Mesha pushed her head deep into the pillow. “Icarus…” she whispered his name. “He arrived from Basilia seeking to trade wine for woodworking. I came upon him in the village, while I was walking off frustration, after finding Imran in his sun room with both Zela and Udelle. They were so enraptured with one another, they saw me not. Seeing them that way only fueled my jealousy.”

  She looked upward as if recalling that day. “Icarus was handsome and I brought him back with me to the castle. As I know you have already discerned, I coupled with him. Not only did I defy Issan law by engaging with another man while my womb was empty, I overlooked the sores on his body. Imran cautioned me time and again, to make certain potential lovers were clean and familiar. He preached the importance of knowing them well. But I wanted only to hurt Imran—thinking he would be jealous that I succumbed to taking a lover, when I never had before.”

  “Never?”

  Her head slightly shook. Likely, all she could manage. “Imran was enough.”

  Carmela believed her, but was no less confused. “Imran indicated he had had encounters with all of his wives together. I assumed you participated, yet if you were jealous seeing him with the other two queens, shall I presume you did not?”

  “You are a bold girl.” What sounded like an attempt to laugh came from the queen, but was quickly snuffed out by a cough. “No. I did not partake. Zela and Udelle are fond of one another, and Imran enjoys watching them together, as well as participating.” She frowned and looked away. “I held to my Basilian beliefs and tried to be righteous, and yet I am being punished for my one indiscretion. God has shunned me.”

  Something took hold of Carmela, and she grasped onto Mesha’s hand, disregarding her healer’s warning. “He still loves you. Perhaps God chose to inflict you in order to bring you home to Him and away from a place you never belonged.”

  Mesha stared at Carmela’s hand. “Do you not fear touching me?”

  Carmela squeezed harder. “You are suffering enough. I will do anything to aid you.”

  “If you are truly sincere, look after my children. I am concerned about Yakar, for I have seen evil manifested in him. I love him, but I do not trust him, and you would do well to be wary in his presence. It is my little ones who need someone like you to model themselves after. They are sweet and good, and when I am gone, they will require guidance.”

  “I will do all I can. Before I came to you, I was dining with them. They are not coping well with your illness. And Ginevieve spoke of others who are unwell. Are they who your healer went to tend?”

  “Yes.” Mesha pulled away from her grasp. “Beneath the castle are rooms filled with dying Issans. There are no potions to aid us. When someone is discovered to be inflicted, they are cast out of the village and brought here. Our people believe they deserve what has been brought upon them, and that their impending deaths are the gods’ way of showing their displeasure.

  “Issans are taught to follow their desires wherever they lead, but they are also instructed to take precautions, just as Imran told me. Our people do not pity the sick. They deem their inflictions justified.”

  Carmela leaned back in her chair. “It seems cruel and heartless. But why have you so openly revealed this to me?”

  “Did you not seek me out to find answers? Not only did you ask, I wanted you to know. When Imran told me you were here, I prayed I could find a way to speak with you.” Mesha turned her head and looked straight at Carmela. “Perhaps you are correct, telling me God still cares. Your coming to me is proof in itself.” Her gaze intensified. “Stay true to your beliefs. Do not let Issa overpower you. And most importantly, keep yourself only to Prince Tesher. Though young, he is a good man and will be true to you. I fear evil times are coming.” Mesha shut her eyes and exhaled, deflating into the bedding.

  Heavy-hearted, Carmela stood. “Be at peace, Mesha. On the full moon, Tesher and I intend to say our vows. And I promise to watch after your children and do all I can to keep your memory alive.”

  “God bless you.” Mesha faced the opposite direction, and her breathing slowed.

  “I will leave you now to rest.” Carmela crept from the room and firmly closed the door behind her.

  Once in the hallway, she breathed deeply, grateful for the odorless air.

  Mesha had been wrong about a time of evil coming. It had already arrived.

  Chapter 16

  Angeline had had a blissful night with both Kendor and Denali. Kendor had arrived at her chamber just prior to midnight, and Denali joined her in bed, once her virile guard departed. Denali no longer chided her for her involvement with Kendor, since he knew the end of their time together was drawing near.

  Denali left her the instant the sun peeked its first rays above the distant mountains. She had managed only a few hours of sleep, yet was not tired in the least. Never had she felt more alive.

  She stood at her window and breathed in the fresh Basilian air. The excitement of the coming day grew with every passing moment. Basilia overflowed with both royalty and commoners from every realm—save Padrida, of course—and at midday, the games would begin. By the time the full moon rose high again, nothing would be the same.

  Her heart nearly beat out of her chest with anticipation.

  Not wanting to see anyone prior to the match, she purposefully remained in her room. Nearly everything had been set into place and she did not care to risk being anywhere that might implicate her involvement in what was to come.

  Besides, she had tired of King Callum’s endless grumblings. The man complained about everything, and when he had learned her wayward sister and his son had once again fled to only God knew where, his demeanor worsened. How Talman could have bumbled the simple task of bringing Tesher and Carmela to Basilia, she was uncertain. It only confirmed, he truly was an imbecile.

  She believed the young lovers had gone into the mountains and frozen themselves. Whatever may have happened to them, she cared not and refused to let thoughts of them ruin her day.

  A light knock on her door brought out a smile. Kendor was definitely punctual.

  She opened the door and waved him in. Walking tall, he crossed to their place of counsel near the window and took his seat. Somehow, they had learned to separate important matters from their need for physical gratification. She relied on him a great deal, and it was a shame she could not keep him.

  After locking the door, she glided across the floor and took her place. “Before we begin, I wish to thank you for last night. Every time we are together, I am delightfully taken to another world. The love we share moves me beyond this earthly place.” She reached out and caressed his arm.

  He roughly cleared his throat. “We will have many more nights together, my queen, but matters are pressing. I have never seen so many armed men. It is as if they have come prepared for battle themselves, not merely to witness a match of strength between their kings.”

  She longed to shout for joy, hearing his revelation, yet remained composed. “Worry not.” Softly smiling, she brought her hand back to herself. “But�
��considering the importance of today’s outcome, if things should go awry, and either the kingdom of Thanwine or Oros is unsatisfied with the conclusion of the match, do not engage our men. They are to defend Basilia alone. If Oros and Thanwine wish to fight, they can shed their own blood, not ours.”

  “What of your brothers, my queen? Do you not want them defended?”

  She sat tall. “I am a Basilian queen. If my brothers are foolish enough to engage Oros, then they must provide their own defense.”

  “I pray for a peaceful transition. Our lands have not seen bloodshed since—”

  “Padrida,” she said with spite. “Was that not justified?”

  “Yes, my queen.” His face fell. “Yet it was no less difficult to see. I lost good men in that fray.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Do not grow weak, when so much is at stake. The future of our world is being decided in a few short hours.”

  He inhaled deeply through his nose and puffed out his chest. “It is not weakness. I will draw my sword on anyone who threatens you. However, I am not without feelings. Until you see someone slain at your feet, it is difficult to comprehend the emotions brought forth. I prefer having our realms at peace.”

  “As do I.” She pressed a hand over her heart and softened her expression. “I love my brothers and wish them no harm, but I am not ignorant to the arrogance of Talman or Callum, for that matter. Putting two men with such attributes into an arena with drawn blades is bound to ignite their masculine competitiveness. Neither will want to yield.”

  “You always speak so sensibly.” He frowned and lowered his head. “It would seem I need to pray with more earnestness.”

  “God is in control, Kendor. Tonight, the moon will be at its fullest. His eyes are opened wide, and His hand guides everything. Pray as you will, but know that He has already determined the outcome.”

  Kendor sluggishly nodded. “Your faith surpasses mine. It is commendable.”

  “I have experienced much heartache, yet I have found a way to trust.” She leaned forward and caressed his cheek. “God brought you to me, and He will not fail us. So, I say again…worry not.”

  Another knock came to the door, and Kendor whipped his head in that direction. It did not surprise Angeline at all, and she casually stood to answer it. Her dear healer also proved to be punctual.

  Kendor shot to his feet and grabbed her arm. “Do you not fear being seen enclosed in your chamber with me alone?”

  “My dear, Kendor, everything seems to trouble you. Do we not frequently hold counsel here? No one will question our purpose.” She stared at his hand until he removed it, then continued on to the door and brought Denali in. “I asked my healer to join us, so we can discuss what this day might bring. Denali knows of our love, and he will speak of it to no one.”

  He gave Kendor a curt nod, then strode to the window and took a seat. He withdrew a small round vessel from within his tunic and cradled it in his hands.

  Angeline linked her arm into Kendor’s and guided him back toward their chairs. Since Denali occupied Kendor’s, she gestured for him to bring another. The dear man’s brows drew together and he looked warily at Denali.

  “Kendor,” Angeline firmly said, “you can trust my healer. I confide all in him.”

  Kendor’s head drew back. “All?”

  Denali chuckled. “Yes, all. I know of your plans to wed soon after this affair. I have served Queen Angeline since she was a child, and I have vowed my loyalty. There are few people we encounter in our lives who are trustworthy, but I assure you, I want only what is best for my queen. I will not reveal your love for one another. That will be your task alone, on your wedding day.”

  Angeline did not think it possible, but Kendor’s cheeks flushed. He spun around and put his back to them, then retrieved the chair and placed it beside the others. Without saying a word, he sat and folded his arms across his chest.

  Angeline daintily sat. “What is that you hold, Denali?” As if she did not already know…

  He proudly lifted the container. “I know you fear for your brother, my queen, and I have concocted a polish that when spread upon his blade will make it gleam like the sun. He will show his radiance to all the people.” He raised the lid and held it toward her. “It is blended with honey to give it a consistency which will remain on the blade. There is but one small flaw. . .”

  “Tell me.” She peered at the substance, feigning intrigue.

  “I fear if the sword is sheathed, it will remove the substance as well as the shine. The only way to make it gleam to its fullest is to apply it just prior to the match, and Talman must be told to keep his sword from its sheath.”

  Kendor shook his head and grunted. “This is foolishness. How will a shiny sword benefit our queen’s brother?”

  Denali glared at him. “You mock me?”

  “No, but I reiterate, a man’s worth is not measured by how much his weapon gleams. It will make no difference in his ability to win.”

  Angeline set a hand on Kendor’s leg. “I disagree. Appearance is everything. If Talman raises his sword to the people and it glistens like gold, they will cheer. It may seem simple, but perhaps the gleam of the sword will catch Callum’s eye and blind him.” She let out a small laugh. “It could prove to be a great advantage.”

  With her best smile, she rubbed up and down his leg. “Humor my healer. I have no doubt he has worked endlessly on this substance, making certain it will perform as it should.”

  Denali stared downward as if wounded. “I did indeed put my best work into this.”

  Kendor huffed. “I suppose it is harmless, and if you believe it is beneficial, my queen, then it should be rendered.” He looked from her to Denali. “I have polished many a sword. If your concoction must be applied immediately before the match, allow me to do it.”

  Denali lifted his head and slimly smiled. “You would carry it out, even questioning its worth?”

  “I do all I can to please my queen.” Kendor regained his proud stature. “I pray Talman succeeds. We must have a king who will honor Queen Angeline’s coming child.”

  Angeline leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You honor me.” Their eyes met. If only they had enough time for a final romp. “I will inform Talman of your intent to shine his weapon before he enters the arena, and the importance of leaving it unsheathed.”

  Denali clapped his hands a single time, interrupting their brief connection. “No doubt, you asked me here for a reason, so what else have we to discuss?”

  She sat back and shifted toward him, internally humored by his disruption. “Your services may be needed in the arena, if genuine fighting ensues. Yet, as I told Kendor prior to your arrival, Basilia and its people are our priority. If things erupt into turmoil, their needs come first. Let the Orosians and Thanwinians bleed.”

  Denali looked at her as if she were crazed, perfectly performing his part. “You expect trouble of this nature?”

  She sadly nodded. “My heart tells me, this day will not end without shed blood.” With a pronounced breath, she stood. “Leave me now to rest. The weight of carrying a child often tires me, and I must be alert for what is to come.”

  Both men arose simultaneously. Denali bowed, and Kendor kissed her forehead, but not before glancing in Denali’s direction.

  As they neared the door, Denali passed the small container to Kendor. “Take care with this, and for heaven’s sake do not taste it. Though made with honey, I assure you, it is bitter.”

  “Why would I taste it?”

  Denali let out an exasperated breath. “I know not, but I felt it had to be said.” He looked over his shoulder and met Angeline’s gaze.

  She dipped her head ever-so-slightly.

  The game had begun.

  Thousands of people gathered for the spectacle of their lifetime, oblivious to what they were about to witness.

  True to Kendor’s word, the arena had been exquisitely finished. The stones from old broken-down walls had been transformed into seats that
circled a large grassy field. The blood of many slain Crenian lay deep within the soil. It would soon be joined with fresh streams of red.

  Angeline shivered gleefully at the thought.

  “Are you cold, my queen?”

  She turned her head and smiled through her black veil at the youthful guard, Lukah, who had been chosen by Kendor to escort her to the event. “I appreciate your concern, but no, I am not cold, merely filled with excitement. Nothing such as this has transpired before.” Her arm linked in his, and she tightened her hold. “This is a magnificent tribute to my dear departed Frederick. I pray he is looking down upon us with pride.”

  “I am honored to be at your side, my queen.” Lukah’s green eyes sparkled.

  She believed them to be similar in age, and he could prove to be enjoyable in the near future. Honestly, the realm offered many fine men, and once Kendor was put to rest, she would happily consider all options.

  Lukah led her up three wooden steps and onto the raised platform, then helped her sit. Fortunately, a canvas covering had been placed over her spectator’s spot. Had it not been, she might faint from excessive heat. Her black dress drew in every ray of sunlight.

  She took the opportunity to scan the massive crowd. Although she recognized several faces of the Thanwinians present, it was otherwise impossible to discern her former people from Orosians. She assumed they had separated into opposing sections on their own accord and would know for certain when the match began.

  The queens from the other realms joined her on the dais. Becca sat to one side of her, and Queen Leda to the other. Estelle had also been invited to sit with them, and the poor girl seemed torn as to whether she should put her behind in a chair beside her mother-in-law or her sister. As it should, loyalty to her realm won the battle, and she sat next to Leda.

  Angeline acknowledged each woman with a polite nod, then focused her attention on the Orosian queen. “Are your daughters not with you—that is—your young daughters? I know very well of Pasha’s absence.” She said it with a smile, then reveled in the hurt she rendered.