At the urging of Smashwords, I created an ‘interview’ for my readers! Feel free to go over there and read if, if you can stand all the TMI!!!
It’s actually only a bunch of boxes I fill out, in response to questions they ask. If I don’t like a question, I get to either write my own, or just skip it and go to a different one. It is really quite interesting, because you think about things you would never normally consider interesting, such as: What was the first book you remember reading?
One question they asked --which I skipped over-- was: What is your approach to cover design?
This is tricky, because it is based on images I get off various royalty-free sources on the Internet, and which I then proceed to modify until they’re unrecognizable. The faces in Hurricane were left more or less intact, but I keep thinking that it was a mistake to do so. Both Hurricane and Little John have been given covers that are sort of abstract (come to think of it, Jane has been, too), so they’re none of them an actual scene from the story. I just don’t have the resources to make a cover the way I would like to, which is to stage a scene from the story, take a photograph of it, and then stylize it and simplify it until only an abstract depiction is left. Actually, the way I would really like to do it is to have the photograph painted in oils (or tempura, or acrylic, or what have you), and then use that.
The cover of Jane is essentially a picture of two nude girls kissing, seated quite decently across from each other. I would be delighted to feature actual sex, but that wouldn’t be honest, because the story has very little explicit sex in it. (If you would like to read explicit sex I apologize; I’m just terrible at describing explicit sex. I’m just terrible at sex, period. Why are we talking about this, anyway?)
The image I would have loved to use for Jane would have been the painting that is supposed to have made Jane into a millionaire, namely a picture of Heather/Diana kneeling in front of an ornate mirror, examining her body. The problem with this image is that you just can’t depict both the back of the girl and the image in the mirror very well. If the mirror is close enough to be plausible, the girl’s shoulder would obscure part of the image. The answer would be to angle the mirror out more than how someone who is really interested in looking at themselves would hold it. Or, we could use a transparent sheet of glass for the mirror. (Sigh.) But that would mean we couldn’t show the glorious blond braid that the girl was supposed to have, hanging down her back. But I live in hope, as they say.
K. B.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Friday, November 8, 2013
What I'm Going to Do With This Blog
Thus far, of course, I have used this blog to do pretty much what I want, which is (1) post about women and girls whom I find attractive, and (2) post episodes from stories I have written.
Posts about women and girls whom I find attractive was not the original purpose of this blog, but a time comes when you feel so strongly about some person or other than it simply has to be put out there! I do more of that sort of thing in the companion blog to this, Helen, to which there is a link at the top of the website. I haven't been doing this for a while because of all the work that I put into getting the three stories I first published on Smashwords ready. But I often watch a movie, or see something in the news or on the Internet, and for a brief while I have an unbearable crush on someone, and I have to post something desperately worshipful in the worst possible way. Only having work to do, and classes to teach distracts me from this imperative.
Posting my stories here is more frustration than anyone should have to endure, both setting it out, and reading it. I look at these stories, all in frustrating reverse chronological order, and I think to myself, this last episode looks like crap to anyone reading it without having seen the earlier chapters. Context is everything, as far as any story goes, and a story has to be written very carefully if it is to be read in reverse chronological order. (It has been done, and brilliantly, but that was not the intention with these stories.) So I'm going to put the stories in Smashwords, for a nominal cost, all of them assembled into a few self-contained novels, which I plan to publish at around a dollar or two each.
But this blog could be more a place where I write about the stories, and my attitudes towards the characters and the stories, which really have no place in the books themselves. (Piers Anthony has written a fascinating book, Bearing an Hourglass, about a person who becomes, briefly, Fate (or possibly, Time). It is one of the books in the series Incarnations of Immortality (or something on those lines), and Fate sees time in reverse chronological order, so as to facilitate the coming into being of events that have been established already in the distant future.
At any rate, this is probably the best place to give an inventory of the stories that I have begun, and most of them, never finished! (I understand that there are individuals out there who find it difficult to get started with a plot, and have no compunction about stealing a story from another writer. if you're one of those, feel free to steal the plots, but I would be grateful if you credit me with the idea for the story!)
Helen. This is a story (episodes of which have been serialized in Helen, another blog) about a girl who is adept at singing, the violin, art, dancing, and, well, Tennis. While this story was started, semi-consciously, for the sake of company --for many months, Helen was my only companion-- subconsciously I made it all about a girl who could do everything. In that sense, Helen is an extension of myself, though I want to make it clear that I can't do many of the things Helen does, and none of them as well as she can! But I'm frustrated to be surrounded with people who keep saying: Oh, I can't do that sort of thing. Jeeze; why not? I can't stand it when I sit at a piano and doodle on it a little, and someone looks at me with sheer envy! It didn't cost much to rent a piano; it was, like $30 a month, which I could afford with even my grad school stipend of, like $900 a month. So get a grip, all you young parents out there. Give up the frikking Cable Service, and rent a piano for your kids.
Alexandra is an amazing story; it is set in a planet far far away, in the distant future. Ships from Earth have colonized this Earth-like planet, and now it is thousands of years in the future of the landing. (Countless Science Fiction stories have bases very much on these lines.) But, from here on, the setting may as well be Earth, set in the late 1700s. There is a twist: in one continent, there is a larger-than-usual proportion of citizens who are homosexual, and, get this: two women can use a certain type of gadget to get one of them pregnant. So female-female couples can have kids, with no additional expense.
Alexandra is a young girl, of about 18, who finds herself Queen of one country, Norsland, but is immediately faced with invasion. She has just been married to a princess from a neighboring nation, but the young couple gets separated during the war that follows, and half the story is about how the young princess helps the war effort, while Alexandra is in hiding in exile. When the war comes to an end, the young couple find that they have become different people from when they were first married, and they cannot continue the sham that their marriage has become, but neither can they face the thought of a formal divorce.
Jane. This is a story of a girl who finds herself a porn photographer. She has been "straight" all her life, but now she begins to be attracted to her models, until she completely falls in love with one of her models, and then finds herself established in a semi-permanent menage-a-trois with her lover and yet another girl. At about this point, I had a change of heart, and instead of pursuing the entirely erotic possibilities inherent in the setup, I found myself examining some of the psychological relationships between Jane and some of her more interesting models. Disaster strikes, in the form of the AIDS epidemic, and 9-11, which were the backdrops against which the story was begun, and soon Jane finds herself all alone, with both the other girls dead. But Jane is an artist, and before things go to hell completely, Jane manages to paint and sell prints of an erotic painting that becomes wildly popular on Ebay.
In the second part of the story, Jane meets a fashion model called Gillian, who wants her portrait painted. Gradually Jane puts her life back together, finding work, in addition to being a portrait painter, as a makeup artist for fashion modeling, and later for movies. She also creates a fictitious character called Scorpia, which is a role she plays at Metal Fetish gatherings. Pretty Wild.
Jana (I'm obviously partial to these two names: Jane, and Jana.) Jana is a girl who grows up in a nomadic nation in a sort of desert belt in an alternate Earth. She is put in a troop of militia, who function like a cross between bronze age Texas Rangers and border guards. Jana's troop take into protective custody a young man and his older companion, who are later revealed to be a prince of a neighboring nation, and his tutor. She is assigned to return them to their home, in the process of which, the young fellow falls in love with her.
Jana finds herself asked to remain in the country of the young prince, and finds herself emotionally involved with not only the prince, but his sister, as well. After many adventures, Jana returns home, and accepts a post as the leader of another squadron, just in time to have to deal with a massive invasion of robber hordes across the border.
Prisoner Maia, a princess of a city state in an alternate Earth, is taken captive, and into slavery in a barbarian land ruled by a king and his twin daughters. Maia earns the trust of the two princesses, and finds herself being trained as an elite guard. She is also the focus of the sexual attentions of one princess, but falls in love with the other twin.
Maia's beloved is sent to marry a neighboring prince, and Maia is part of the honor guard that conducts the Princess to her new home, after which she returns. Graduating from training, she is just in time to witness the sacking of their capital city by a strange tribe of giant warriors. The King is killed, and Maia and the (unmarried) Princess escape into hiding, accompanied by two other slaves, a couple. The princess tells Maia that she is no longer a princess, but is Maia's servant, and over the next few days, as they continue their flight from the invaders, she begs forgiveness for sexually harassing Maia. After many adventures, they come to Maia's homeland, now overrun by yet other unsavory elements, and now the princess must help Maia restore something like stability to her homeland.
Posts about women and girls whom I find attractive was not the original purpose of this blog, but a time comes when you feel so strongly about some person or other than it simply has to be put out there! I do more of that sort of thing in the companion blog to this, Helen, to which there is a link at the top of the website. I haven't been doing this for a while because of all the work that I put into getting the three stories I first published on Smashwords ready. But I often watch a movie, or see something in the news or on the Internet, and for a brief while I have an unbearable crush on someone, and I have to post something desperately worshipful in the worst possible way. Only having work to do, and classes to teach distracts me from this imperative.
Posting my stories here is more frustration than anyone should have to endure, both setting it out, and reading it. I look at these stories, all in frustrating reverse chronological order, and I think to myself, this last episode looks like crap to anyone reading it without having seen the earlier chapters. Context is everything, as far as any story goes, and a story has to be written very carefully if it is to be read in reverse chronological order. (It has been done, and brilliantly, but that was not the intention with these stories.) So I'm going to put the stories in Smashwords, for a nominal cost, all of them assembled into a few self-contained novels, which I plan to publish at around a dollar or two each.
But this blog could be more a place where I write about the stories, and my attitudes towards the characters and the stories, which really have no place in the books themselves. (Piers Anthony has written a fascinating book, Bearing an Hourglass, about a person who becomes, briefly, Fate (or possibly, Time). It is one of the books in the series Incarnations of Immortality (or something on those lines), and Fate sees time in reverse chronological order, so as to facilitate the coming into being of events that have been established already in the distant future.
At any rate, this is probably the best place to give an inventory of the stories that I have begun, and most of them, never finished! (I understand that there are individuals out there who find it difficult to get started with a plot, and have no compunction about stealing a story from another writer. if you're one of those, feel free to steal the plots, but I would be grateful if you credit me with the idea for the story!)
Helen. This is a story (episodes of which have been serialized in Helen, another blog) about a girl who is adept at singing, the violin, art, dancing, and, well, Tennis. While this story was started, semi-consciously, for the sake of company --for many months, Helen was my only companion-- subconsciously I made it all about a girl who could do everything. In that sense, Helen is an extension of myself, though I want to make it clear that I can't do many of the things Helen does, and none of them as well as she can! But I'm frustrated to be surrounded with people who keep saying: Oh, I can't do that sort of thing. Jeeze; why not? I can't stand it when I sit at a piano and doodle on it a little, and someone looks at me with sheer envy! It didn't cost much to rent a piano; it was, like $30 a month, which I could afford with even my grad school stipend of, like $900 a month. So get a grip, all you young parents out there. Give up the frikking Cable Service, and rent a piano for your kids.
Alexandra is an amazing story; it is set in a planet far far away, in the distant future. Ships from Earth have colonized this Earth-like planet, and now it is thousands of years in the future of the landing. (Countless Science Fiction stories have bases very much on these lines.) But, from here on, the setting may as well be Earth, set in the late 1700s. There is a twist: in one continent, there is a larger-than-usual proportion of citizens who are homosexual, and, get this: two women can use a certain type of gadget to get one of them pregnant. So female-female couples can have kids, with no additional expense.
Alexandra is a young girl, of about 18, who finds herself Queen of one country, Norsland, but is immediately faced with invasion. She has just been married to a princess from a neighboring nation, but the young couple gets separated during the war that follows, and half the story is about how the young princess helps the war effort, while Alexandra is in hiding in exile. When the war comes to an end, the young couple find that they have become different people from when they were first married, and they cannot continue the sham that their marriage has become, but neither can they face the thought of a formal divorce.
Jane. This is a story of a girl who finds herself a porn photographer. She has been "straight" all her life, but now she begins to be attracted to her models, until she completely falls in love with one of her models, and then finds herself established in a semi-permanent menage-a-trois with her lover and yet another girl. At about this point, I had a change of heart, and instead of pursuing the entirely erotic possibilities inherent in the setup, I found myself examining some of the psychological relationships between Jane and some of her more interesting models. Disaster strikes, in the form of the AIDS epidemic, and 9-11, which were the backdrops against which the story was begun, and soon Jane finds herself all alone, with both the other girls dead. But Jane is an artist, and before things go to hell completely, Jane manages to paint and sell prints of an erotic painting that becomes wildly popular on Ebay.
In the second part of the story, Jane meets a fashion model called Gillian, who wants her portrait painted. Gradually Jane puts her life back together, finding work, in addition to being a portrait painter, as a makeup artist for fashion modeling, and later for movies. She also creates a fictitious character called Scorpia, which is a role she plays at Metal Fetish gatherings. Pretty Wild.
Jana (I'm obviously partial to these two names: Jane, and Jana.) Jana is a girl who grows up in a nomadic nation in a sort of desert belt in an alternate Earth. She is put in a troop of militia, who function like a cross between bronze age Texas Rangers and border guards. Jana's troop take into protective custody a young man and his older companion, who are later revealed to be a prince of a neighboring nation, and his tutor. She is assigned to return them to their home, in the process of which, the young fellow falls in love with her.
Jana finds herself asked to remain in the country of the young prince, and finds herself emotionally involved with not only the prince, but his sister, as well. After many adventures, Jana returns home, and accepts a post as the leader of another squadron, just in time to have to deal with a massive invasion of robber hordes across the border.
Prisoner Maia, a princess of a city state in an alternate Earth, is taken captive, and into slavery in a barbarian land ruled by a king and his twin daughters. Maia earns the trust of the two princesses, and finds herself being trained as an elite guard. She is also the focus of the sexual attentions of one princess, but falls in love with the other twin.
Maia's beloved is sent to marry a neighboring prince, and Maia is part of the honor guard that conducts the Princess to her new home, after which she returns. Graduating from training, she is just in time to witness the sacking of their capital city by a strange tribe of giant warriors. The King is killed, and Maia and the (unmarried) Princess escape into hiding, accompanied by two other slaves, a couple. The princess tells Maia that she is no longer a princess, but is Maia's servant, and over the next few days, as they continue their flight from the invaders, she begs forgiveness for sexually harassing Maia. After many adventures, they come to Maia's homeland, now overrun by yet other unsavory elements, and now the princess must help Maia restore something like stability to her homeland.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
A New Adventure: E-Books
Well, dear readers,
I got tired of watching my stories remaining almost totally unread! If you've read any of them, by now you've discovered that they're from a few books I wrote over the long winters out here: the two I have featured on this blog being Helen, about a musician and singer, a book of some 1.3 million words, most of which is quite silly; and Jana, an almost complete novel of a bronze-age fighter-girl, serialized right here. However, because of the nature of blogs in general, and how I maintained these two blogs in particular, my readership was tiny (but no less cherished, for that fact). Then I stumbled upon the Smashwords site, which appears to be --at least at present-- the most significant place for self-publishing.
Anyway, by accident I started putting together this post both here and on my companion blog, Helen, and ended up writing a full article about my recent experiences over there. That should have appeared here instead. (I'm going to copy some of that over here.)
[Excerpted from Helen, another blog by the same author:]
I started writing because (A) I had these awesome fantasies that I got while driving long distances all by myself. I just had to do something while driving for, like 6 or 7 hours at a stretch, which I had to do frequently. Then, (B) I had some unhappy experiences with my partner at one time, and we decided to move into separate apartments. When I found myself spending hours and hours by myself with only my coursework assignments to do, I decided to actually put some of my stories down on paper, beginning with Helen. As I gradually got accustomed to thinking of myself as a sexual animal, and less fearful about appearing so to the outside world, I began to think of a story where the sex was a little more objectivized, and Jane was born. 9-11 plays a role in Jane, but the excerpt I published is taken from well after that event, and is not concerned centrally with it. Jane could end up being the only true book I write.
There is another book, called Music on the Galactic Voyager © 2012, which is very promising. In Helen, it so happens that our heroine is invited to star in a weekly prime time series called The Galactic Voyager. It is set in the not-so-distant future, where an enormous space vessel, called the Galactic Voyager is launched from Earth, with several hundred volunteers on board, including a famous musician and artist called Cecilia. Helen is invited to play the role of Cecilia, who is put on board in a state of hibernation, which is to say in a deep freeze, to be resuscitated as needed. But a couple of dozen years into the mission, the young people who were born on board the vessel are becoming disoriented, because they really don't have a context for living on board a space vessel. I mean, imagine growing up in deep space, and being told that your parents had lived on an actual planet at one time, but now all you have is this cramped spaceship? So Cecilia is revived, to provide them with some meaning in their lives.
Anyhow, I began to think that this story line (which I dreamed up simply as the basis of an incidental TV show in Helen) might actually be better as the basis of a novel than almost anything I have written up to now, though of course, it is squarely in the area of science fiction. So I began to write a new story, and in this one, it is actually Helen who is put in stasis, on board a vessel bound for deep space. She is revived, and then they find themselves in the vicinity of a star system that has a planet that promises to be inhabitable. Meanwhile, Helen's diabetes has taken a turn for the worse, and furthermore, she is the only diabetic on board. In order to ensure that Helen's genes are preserved, they clone her, without her knowledge. (She is distraught, until she delivers the child, at which point, of course, she is delighted with it.) So, to make a long story short, this has been written at some length: some 225,000 words.
Most interestingly, one of the greatest difficulties I'm having with publishing on Smashwords is --you'll never guess-- creating attractive covers for the books! I am pleased with the cover of Jane. The cover of Little John is a goofy little thing I put together in PowerPoint, which captures the mood of the story amazingly well. (The difficult part is to represent the characters not too closely, because that would spoil it for readers with a strong imagination, whose conception of a particular character might be at odds with the depiction on the cover.) The cover I created for Hurricane is probably the most awful cover ever created by man or woman. Here they are!
Kay
I got tired of watching my stories remaining almost totally unread! If you've read any of them, by now you've discovered that they're from a few books I wrote over the long winters out here: the two I have featured on this blog being Helen, about a musician and singer, a book of some 1.3 million words, most of which is quite silly; and Jana, an almost complete novel of a bronze-age fighter-girl, serialized right here. However, because of the nature of blogs in general, and how I maintained these two blogs in particular, my readership was tiny (but no less cherished, for that fact). Then I stumbled upon the Smashwords site, which appears to be --at least at present-- the most significant place for self-publishing.
Anyway, by accident I started putting together this post both here and on my companion blog, Helen, and ended up writing a full article about my recent experiences over there. That should have appeared here instead. (I'm going to copy some of that over here.)
[Excerpted from Helen, another blog by the same author:]
I started writing because (A) I had these awesome fantasies that I got while driving long distances all by myself. I just had to do something while driving for, like 6 or 7 hours at a stretch, which I had to do frequently. Then, (B) I had some unhappy experiences with my partner at one time, and we decided to move into separate apartments. When I found myself spending hours and hours by myself with only my coursework assignments to do, I decided to actually put some of my stories down on paper, beginning with Helen. As I gradually got accustomed to thinking of myself as a sexual animal, and less fearful about appearing so to the outside world, I began to think of a story where the sex was a little more objectivized, and Jane was born. 9-11 plays a role in Jane, but the excerpt I published is taken from well after that event, and is not concerned centrally with it. Jane could end up being the only true book I write.
There is another book, called Music on the Galactic Voyager © 2012, which is very promising. In Helen, it so happens that our heroine is invited to star in a weekly prime time series called The Galactic Voyager. It is set in the not-so-distant future, where an enormous space vessel, called the Galactic Voyager is launched from Earth, with several hundred volunteers on board, including a famous musician and artist called Cecilia. Helen is invited to play the role of Cecilia, who is put on board in a state of hibernation, which is to say in a deep freeze, to be resuscitated as needed. But a couple of dozen years into the mission, the young people who were born on board the vessel are becoming disoriented, because they really don't have a context for living on board a space vessel. I mean, imagine growing up in deep space, and being told that your parents had lived on an actual planet at one time, but now all you have is this cramped spaceship? So Cecilia is revived, to provide them with some meaning in their lives.
Anyhow, I began to think that this story line (which I dreamed up simply as the basis of an incidental TV show in Helen) might actually be better as the basis of a novel than almost anything I have written up to now, though of course, it is squarely in the area of science fiction. So I began to write a new story, and in this one, it is actually Helen who is put in stasis, on board a vessel bound for deep space. She is revived, and then they find themselves in the vicinity of a star system that has a planet that promises to be inhabitable. Meanwhile, Helen's diabetes has taken a turn for the worse, and furthermore, she is the only diabetic on board. In order to ensure that Helen's genes are preserved, they clone her, without her knowledge. (She is distraught, until she delivers the child, at which point, of course, she is delighted with it.) So, to make a long story short, this has been written at some length: some 225,000 words.
Most interestingly, one of the greatest difficulties I'm having with publishing on Smashwords is --you'll never guess-- creating attractive covers for the books! I am pleased with the cover of Jane. The cover of Little John is a goofy little thing I put together in PowerPoint, which captures the mood of the story amazingly well. (The difficult part is to represent the characters not too closely, because that would spoil it for readers with a strong imagination, whose conception of a particular character might be at odds with the depiction on the cover.) The cover I created for Hurricane is probably the most awful cover ever created by man or woman. Here they are!
Kay
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Jana, Episode 14
Jana washed, dressed, took down her tent, and joined her riders for breakfast. Ianthe arrived, escorted by the beautiful Chief’s daughter. As Ianthe came to give Jana a chaste little embrace, the other girl flirted with the men, stealing morsels from their plates. Ianthe was given a plate, they ate fast, and got ready to leave. As they rode out, Leila ran out to them, and pressed a little bundle into Jana’s hand, her eyes shining with love. Jana felt as if she had been kissed by those eyes.
They were soon off at a gallop, Ianthe easily keeping up with them.
“Who was that?” Ianthe asked, as they walked their horses at noon.
“I’m sure you can guess,” Jana smiled.
“Oh.” Ianthe’s eyes searched her face so long that her horse nudged her hand impatiently. She rubbed his side, absently.
“Jana… it was unbelievable… there were such feelings…”
“I know!”
“It isn’t simple, is it?” Ianthe blushed and dropped her eyes, then looked back out of the corner of her eyes, a unique, sensuous gesture.
“A lot to learn, in so short a time,” Jana agreed, uncomfortably. It was disconcerting to have known two women so intimately.
They rode hard, and arrived late at the city of the Horse People. Having looked after the horses, Jana had been instructed to come to the palace however late she came. It was expected, of course, that Jana would be brought in a cart or wagon, and not in charge of the King’s Own.
“What’s this! You are well, and smiling … and who is this?”
Jana saluted and bowed. “I present her highness, Princess Ianthe of Heliopolis, my lord King! Your Highness!”
Dressed once again in her riding habit, Ianthe curtsied and raised her hands, palms upward, to the King.
“What a wonderful surprise! Come, let us sit, and you must tell us everything! Bring food, and water and wine!”
The King first cross-examined Jana about her condition.
“It was deep shame, my lord King…so many years in your service, and I am not yet blooded! As a warrior, I am a failure. I kept my lady alive, but the Queen is dead… it was my foolishness that caused it! Stupidity! I should have simply ridden for help, and kept them all safe in the palace.”
“Think carefully, Jana. If you had to do it again, what would you do this time?”
Jana’s eyes turned inwards in thought, and the King was amused to see the princess do exactly the same. They looked up at the same time.
“Jana, you first.”
“Perhaps what the Captain did; to send a small force into the Western Province, to investigate. But we felt it would be aggression!”
“And your highness?”
“I thought Jana’s suggestion of staying safe in the palace, and sending for help and advice was a good one, your majesty!”
The King smiled, pleased at her tact and honesty. “Both good suggestions,” he said, nodding. “Direct action, with caution. You could have done both. The Queen lost her temper, and paid the price. Your mother had a great heart, Ianthe. She despised that man, and it was a good way to die. It is good to have a hero, though sometimes the sacrifice is too great for us to bear.”
Jana sat quietly, feeling out of her depth. For a year she had treated with the Queen, almost as an equal. But now, she wondered whether she had deceived herself into thinking herself wiser than she really was. She was the princess’s secret lover, a lowly horse officer, not fit to sit with the King.
“Your brother was mightily enamored of our Jana, here,” the King said, apropos of nothing. Ianthe blushed furiously. “Has he grown out of it, or does he intend to capitalize on the lack of parental restraint?”
Jana looked on the King with deep reproach. He laughed heartily and long.
“It was a mistake to send me, your majesty,” said Jana. “It would have been better for all if I had remained, and the prince had forgotten his…ill-advised fancy for me!” The King stopped laughing, seeing that Jana was close to tears. “It was one mistake after another!” Her mouth trembled, and for a while it appeared that Jana would burst into tears. Then she calmed herself. “If I had know who he was… I would have been careful.”
Ianthe listened patiently and wide-eyed to Jana’s bitter tirade, and only then raised her eyes to the King. He now nodded for her to speak.
“On the contrary, Sire. She saved all our lives at least once! Ask her to deny it if she can! All of us from poisoning. From a prowler. From wild cats. From a runaway horse!” Ianthe fought her emotions. “She saved us, without killing anyone, without battle, but with courage and patience. And she kept me from being murdered!” She swallowed hard. “Our debt to you is great indeed, Sire, for sending her to us!”
“What was the agreement, Jana?”
“What agreement, my lord?”
“You were put on detached duty, were you not?”
“Oh. Under the personal command of the Queen herself.”
“We can consider that her death releases you. It wasn’t limited in duration, was it? It was until she discharged you.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“So you were put in command of the King’s Own, troop which was sent out with Captain Vila.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Then I confirm your appointment to the King’s Own, with rank of First Horse Officer. Serve with pride, officer Jana!”
Jana got to her feet, bowed and saluted.
“Ianthe, come…” Ianthe looked stunned. “What’s the matter?”
“Sire… I …”
“Let Jana go, dear; we can talk afterwards. Jana, have her things brought inside, please. Give my regards to your good parents!” Jana bowed and marched out, her face inscrutable.
“Come, Ianthe. Oh, you remind me so much of your mother! Why, child? Why are you trembling?”
Ianthe could bear it no longer. All her woes rose up and pounded on her at once. She simply dissolved into tears, and the King held her while she cried herself out, and murmured soft words of comfort. If he had an inkling of one of her problems, he wisely said nothing at that time. He conducted her to the room she had been assigned, and showed her the bath that was attached, ready with water being heated for her bath. He persuaded her to bathe, and seek him out when she was done.
Ianthe finally made herself smile to the maid who bathed her and helped her change. In every way, the Horse People were as warm and as kindly as her own. She sat and thought for a while, pecking at the plate of food that had been brought for her. Presently she decided to go looking for the King.
She found the King looking for snacks in the kitchen. She laughed at the guilty look he gave her. They sat down companiably at a table, with a bowl of dried fruit.
“Your mother is dead, your brother is in love with a girl of the Horse People…and you have no one to talk to, except this Jana. Is that most of it?”
“Yes, Sire.”
“What happens to this Duke?”
“The dungeons, I think,” said she.
“Good. Who will run the duchy?”
“There is a son, Sire.”
“Do you like him?” She shook her head. The King shook his head in sympathy. “Chances are, he was trying to put this fellow on the throne, you know. There will be trouble as long as he’s alive. Get rid of him.” Ianthe’s eyes opened wide. The King calmly ate a fig.
“My best friend Penelope is a grand niece, Sire.”
“How old is she?”
“My age, Sire, fourteen.”
The King’s eyes popped. “My goodness! I thought you were sixteen!” Ianthe shook her head. “Then it has to be Nicholas,” said the King, looking defeated. He sincerely wanted the girl on the throne.
“Stefan, Sire.”
“What did I say?”
“Nicholas.”
“I’m sorry: Stefan. I must think…”
They ate a good deal of fruit while they thought in silence.
They were soon off at a gallop, Ianthe easily keeping up with them.
“Who was that?” Ianthe asked, as they walked their horses at noon.
“I’m sure you can guess,” Jana smiled.
“Oh.” Ianthe’s eyes searched her face so long that her horse nudged her hand impatiently. She rubbed his side, absently.
“Jana… it was unbelievable… there were such feelings…”
“I know!”
“It isn’t simple, is it?” Ianthe blushed and dropped her eyes, then looked back out of the corner of her eyes, a unique, sensuous gesture.
“A lot to learn, in so short a time,” Jana agreed, uncomfortably. It was disconcerting to have known two women so intimately.
They rode hard, and arrived late at the city of the Horse People. Having looked after the horses, Jana had been instructed to come to the palace however late she came. It was expected, of course, that Jana would be brought in a cart or wagon, and not in charge of the King’s Own.
“What’s this! You are well, and smiling … and who is this?”
Jana saluted and bowed. “I present her highness, Princess Ianthe of Heliopolis, my lord King! Your Highness!”
Dressed once again in her riding habit, Ianthe curtsied and raised her hands, palms upward, to the King.
“What a wonderful surprise! Come, let us sit, and you must tell us everything! Bring food, and water and wine!”
The King first cross-examined Jana about her condition.
“It was deep shame, my lord King…so many years in your service, and I am not yet blooded! As a warrior, I am a failure. I kept my lady alive, but the Queen is dead… it was my foolishness that caused it! Stupidity! I should have simply ridden for help, and kept them all safe in the palace.”
“Think carefully, Jana. If you had to do it again, what would you do this time?”
Jana’s eyes turned inwards in thought, and the King was amused to see the princess do exactly the same. They looked up at the same time.
“Jana, you first.”
“Perhaps what the Captain did; to send a small force into the Western Province, to investigate. But we felt it would be aggression!”
“And your highness?”
“I thought Jana’s suggestion of staying safe in the palace, and sending for help and advice was a good one, your majesty!”
The King smiled, pleased at her tact and honesty. “Both good suggestions,” he said, nodding. “Direct action, with caution. You could have done both. The Queen lost her temper, and paid the price. Your mother had a great heart, Ianthe. She despised that man, and it was a good way to die. It is good to have a hero, though sometimes the sacrifice is too great for us to bear.”
Jana sat quietly, feeling out of her depth. For a year she had treated with the Queen, almost as an equal. But now, she wondered whether she had deceived herself into thinking herself wiser than she really was. She was the princess’s secret lover, a lowly horse officer, not fit to sit with the King.
“Your brother was mightily enamored of our Jana, here,” the King said, apropos of nothing. Ianthe blushed furiously. “Has he grown out of it, or does he intend to capitalize on the lack of parental restraint?”
Jana looked on the King with deep reproach. He laughed heartily and long.
“It was a mistake to send me, your majesty,” said Jana. “It would have been better for all if I had remained, and the prince had forgotten his…ill-advised fancy for me!” The King stopped laughing, seeing that Jana was close to tears. “It was one mistake after another!” Her mouth trembled, and for a while it appeared that Jana would burst into tears. Then she calmed herself. “If I had know who he was… I would have been careful.”
Ianthe listened patiently and wide-eyed to Jana’s bitter tirade, and only then raised her eyes to the King. He now nodded for her to speak.
“On the contrary, Sire. She saved all our lives at least once! Ask her to deny it if she can! All of us from poisoning. From a prowler. From wild cats. From a runaway horse!” Ianthe fought her emotions. “She saved us, without killing anyone, without battle, but with courage and patience. And she kept me from being murdered!” She swallowed hard. “Our debt to you is great indeed, Sire, for sending her to us!”
“What was the agreement, Jana?”
“What agreement, my lord?”
“You were put on detached duty, were you not?”
“Oh. Under the personal command of the Queen herself.”
“We can consider that her death releases you. It wasn’t limited in duration, was it? It was until she discharged you.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“So you were put in command of the King’s Own, troop which was sent out with Captain Vila.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Then I confirm your appointment to the King’s Own, with rank of First Horse Officer. Serve with pride, officer Jana!”
Jana got to her feet, bowed and saluted.
“Ianthe, come…” Ianthe looked stunned. “What’s the matter?”
“Sire… I …”
“Let Jana go, dear; we can talk afterwards. Jana, have her things brought inside, please. Give my regards to your good parents!” Jana bowed and marched out, her face inscrutable.
“Come, Ianthe. Oh, you remind me so much of your mother! Why, child? Why are you trembling?”
Ianthe could bear it no longer. All her woes rose up and pounded on her at once. She simply dissolved into tears, and the King held her while she cried herself out, and murmured soft words of comfort. If he had an inkling of one of her problems, he wisely said nothing at that time. He conducted her to the room she had been assigned, and showed her the bath that was attached, ready with water being heated for her bath. He persuaded her to bathe, and seek him out when she was done.
Ianthe finally made herself smile to the maid who bathed her and helped her change. In every way, the Horse People were as warm and as kindly as her own. She sat and thought for a while, pecking at the plate of food that had been brought for her. Presently she decided to go looking for the King.
She found the King looking for snacks in the kitchen. She laughed at the guilty look he gave her. They sat down companiably at a table, with a bowl of dried fruit.
“Your mother is dead, your brother is in love with a girl of the Horse People…and you have no one to talk to, except this Jana. Is that most of it?”
“Yes, Sire.”
“What happens to this Duke?”
“The dungeons, I think,” said she.
“Good. Who will run the duchy?”
“There is a son, Sire.”
“Do you like him?” She shook her head. The King shook his head in sympathy. “Chances are, he was trying to put this fellow on the throne, you know. There will be trouble as long as he’s alive. Get rid of him.” Ianthe’s eyes opened wide. The King calmly ate a fig.
“My best friend Penelope is a grand niece, Sire.”
“How old is she?”
“My age, Sire, fourteen.”
The King’s eyes popped. “My goodness! I thought you were sixteen!” Ianthe shook her head. “Then it has to be Nicholas,” said the King, looking defeated. He sincerely wanted the girl on the throne.
“Stefan, Sire.”
“What did I say?”
“Nicholas.”
“I’m sorry: Stefan. I must think…”
They ate a good deal of fruit while they thought in silence.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Jana, Episode 13
The Horse People had only one city. The people migrated in moving villages, which settled for a few weeks in one spot, and moved a few dozen miles to another spot, and so on. There was such a village in the Eastern plains, and they headed there, according to the Captain’s instructions. In contrast to the road through the Southern forest, it was an easy ride through the plains, with the wind blowing softly through the grasses, and herds of grazing beasts stopping to watch them pass.
“Oh, this is lovely!” exclaimed Ianthe, all glowing from the ride, and a little red from the sun. They rubbed down the horses, and let them drink at the stream. There was bread and cold chicken, brought from Heliopolis, and Queen Ione’s wine, drunk well watered. The men stood round and admired the young princess silently, as she in turn smiled round at them.
“They’re very polite,” she observed, in a low voice to Jana.
“Your dignity brings out the best in them!”
“How much farther?”
“Before sunset. You can sleep in comfort.”
“I don’t want comfort! I want to sleep on the ground!” With you, she added, silently, and Jana could hear the words, so well did she know this woman.
They mounted, and rode again. Jana had a basket of apple wedges, and every once in a while Ianthe would ride up for a few pieces to munch on, some of which her horse was given.
As the sky turned to gold, a large cluster of tents appeared in the South East; they were there. They were soon surrounded by a crowd of children, all excited to see the King’s Own, and its handsome Horse Officer.
Jana and Ianthe gave over their horses, and were led to the Chief, a handsome man of about thirty. A young rider walked behind them, with Ianthe’s pack.
She was made welcome, as a princess and a guest, and conducted to t a comfortable room, hung with beautiful fabric, and containing a comfortable bed of wood and leather. There were two bright-eyed girls of about ten or twelve to attend her. The chieftain bid her be comfortable, and left, and his wife came in, a lovely woman, beautifully dressed in the style of the Horse-People, with gold jewelry on her fingers and wrists and toes and ears. A bath was brought into an adjoining room.
“How do you say: thank you very much?”
Jana told her, and the hostess and the girls laughed merrily, and chorused a response.
“Will they want to wash me?”
“Yes. Will you mind?”
“No. Where will you sleep?”
“I will tent with the men!”
“Please! I want you here!”
“Certainly!” said the Chief’s wife, laughing at Ianthe’s startlement that she could speak the language of the Northerners. “Here, this room next door is available. The tents are large!”
Jana thanked them, and their hostess left them with the young girls. Taking the pack from the rider, Jana murmured some instructions, and he left after a brief discussion, and a deep bow to the princess, and a salute to his officer.
While Ianthe bathed and supped with the Chief and his family, Jana washed in the stream with the men. Ironically, she was not now embarrassed to strip to her breech-clout and bathe with the others; as an officer, none of the others would dare to be too familiar with her. They were brought a hearty supper, during which a number of girls ran up to dance for them, with a host of musicians to accompany them. The King’s Own would be the center of the night’s entertainment.
The fire was built up, and the crowd gathered. The music started, and the girls danced! Oh what a dance it was! None could dance as the women of the Horse People. There was pride, boundless energy, and a perfect sense of rhythm. Jana was seated on a chair, and the King’s Own sat on low stools on either side of her, cheering on the dancers. Jana was dressed in women’s clothes, a long colorful dress of silk and a brown surplice. There were two more girls in the King’s Own, now, and they, too, wore civilian clothes.
Jana noticed a disturbance at the back, in the direction of the tents of the Chief. She craned her neck to see what it was about, and who should appear but Ianthe. She wore a simple, brief white chiton, edged in blue. But she had been given rings, bracelets and earrings, like the horse-people, and oh, how it lit up her face! The brief robes showed off her slim legs to perfection. The crowd rose to its feet, as did Jana, and the music and dancing stopped. Ianthe slowed to a halt, embarrassed. “Oh, please continue!” she said, her clear voice ringing through the respectful silence. Blushing, she urged them with her hands, and hurried to where Jana waited, astonished by this change in Ianthe.
The mood relaxed, at Ianthe’s encouragement, and the hubbub slowly resumed. A wide path was quickly cleared for the Princess, and a chair was found for her, right between Jana and her fellow female riders of the King’s Own. The women of the Horse People were protective of each other!
The dancers huddled together, whispering among themselves, eyes round in admiration of the foreign princess. Her simple, spare costume was in stark contrast to their own styles of layered silk robes which flattered their figures in a different way. The soft, light stola that Ianthe had worn over her arm had many uses. To Jana’s surprise, Ianthe curtseyed to her with a smile, took her seat gracefully, and covered her legs with the stola, to the disappointment of the men. Having seated her, Jana resumed her seat with a quick comradely smile to her men. The dancing resumed, with a little more restraint, for the moment
It was soon apparent to Jana that Ianthe was not embarrassed at showing her admiration for the women. In the restricted Palace community in which Jana had spent most of her time, she had little opportunity to see Ianthe in a social setting with both men and women. Early on, there had been a few social events, mostly involving the friends of the two children, and their families. After the death of Cook, only Penelope had visited.
Ianthe and Penelope were very close and intimate, but what appeared to be sex play between them could just as well have been high spirits. Now Jana cautiously observed Ianthe admiring the dancers, openly and innocently. The dance was very sensuous, though not suggestive or lewd, and Jana saw the girls make eye contact with the princess, smiling with amusement, where there was something more when they smiled at a man, or even at Jana.
“How beautifully they dance!” she exclaimed. Jana nodded, smiling. “Can you do them?” she asked, meaning to ask whether Jana knew all the dances.
“Not all,” admitted Jana. “There are some that we all learn, though.”
Her opportunity came soon. As the dance was called, the two female riders rose, eager-eyed, and turned to Jana in invitation.
“I will dance this one!” she said to Ianthe, who nodded in excited anticipation.
The girls put Jana in the middle of the square of fifteen dancers; tall girls were always put in the middle, where they could be seen anyway. It was a dance involving hops and claps and eye-movements, enacting a story, which was sung by a sweet-voiced girl who kept time with a pair of small cymbals. Ianthe watched Jana’s supple, controlled movements, hardly breathing. She was no longer the fierce soldier, but a playful, fun-loving woman of the Horse People, utterly at home among them, vital, full of life, beautiful. Here she was a horse ---they were all horses--- here she was a hunter, drawing a bow! Here she was a deer, oh, she was hit! And now she was a maiden, dying!
“Oh, beautiful, beautiful!” Ianthe cried out with pleasure and admiration, and leaped to her feet applauding. There was general appreciation as the dancers embraced each other and took their seats, flushed and out of breath.
“Did you like it?”
“I loved it! Is it hard to learn?”
“Oh no, we teach it to little girls of six!”
“I don’t believe it!” exclaimed Ianthe to the two youngsters on her other side.
“Oh yes,” insisted one. “A little at a time, and they know it when they are seven or eight! It is a girl’s dance.”
Ianthe was chatting away with the girls, and Jana watched them, a strange pleasure in her breast. She longed to draw Ianthe into an embrace, and hold her tight, but to sit by her was almost as good.
Wine was served, and the fire fell low, and easily, with no awkwardness, mothers collected their young children and their husbands, waved quiet greetings to the younger adults, and slipped away. The light was dim, the music was softer, and the dances were more sultry.
To her discomfiture, Jana was the focus of the dancing now. Three girls danced, moving round the circle, far more sensuous than thus far. They mimed arousal, need and ecstasy, but never sex. The most beautiful of them, a proud green-eyed girl, had one of the most perfect bodies that Jana had seen, and her fiery eyes dared Jana to desire her. Jana sat, mesmerized, while around her both men and women moaned in admiration, shaking their heads in wonder. As the dance ended, the green-eyed girl made a graceful reverence to Jana and Ianthe, and ran round the circle to the path leading to the tents.
“How can I compete with that?” Ianthe murmured. Next to her the two girl riders whispered to each other excitedly, and turned to Ianthe with some tidbit. Jana drew a labored breath. The men next to her smiled. Somehow she was one of them, now, despite her feminine garments.
“It’s all too much for me,” Jana said, rising slowly to her feet, shaking out her skirts. It felt strange to feel the fabric in her hands, to feel like a woman again.
“We will come to our tents soon, lady,” they assured her. “The dancing is almost over!”
“But these are the best ones, coming up!” they laughed. Jana shook her head, laughing with them. Often these last few dances were very daring, Jana knew, and she was not in the mood to put herself through that particular experience.
The riders made space for Jana to depart, and Ianthe caught her hand, and rose to follow her, to the disappointment of the men. Her fair legs glistened in the dim firelight.
“Shall I take you inside?” Jana asked, her heart full of tenderness. In her mind, Jana was clear that the destiny of the princess was not with Jana, but she did not have the strength to deny herself these precious moments with her, where they pretended that they would be together forever this way.
“No… let’s walk about for a while, please!”
They walked into the darkness, hand in hand. The moon was just rising, but only the bright starlight lit the plains.
“You’re not coming to my bed, are you.”
“No… not tonight, my princess! I---I can’t tonight!”
“Is it me?”
“It is more the men,” Jana said. “It will be awkward.”
“You swore your love to me!”
“I remember!”
“Do you regret it, now?”
Ianthe gazed into Jana’s familiar oval face, her bread forehead, the neatly parted and tied hair, the strong, dense, level brows, the eyes, full of love, framed with those long, blonde eyelashes, the long nose, the full, perfect, kissable lips, the ears with soft, sensuous earlobes. Ianthe clung to the big, gentle hands.
“No!” said Jana, forgetting everything. “It is the most precious thing in my heart! Look inside you! You will know that I love you!”
It was true. Jana was nothing if not steadfast.
She raised her mouth to Jana, and they kissed. Oh, such a kiss!
Hearing a rustle behind her, she turned. A figure in billowing robes was hurrying towards them.
“Come, Highness,” a sweet voice called. The Horse People’s women had such sweet voices! “Your bed is ready!” The woman stopped a little distance away, allowing them their privacy.
Without a word, Ianthe slowly disengaged, and joined her guide, and they set off together for the Chief’s tent.
Jana slowly turned towards her own tent. It was a comfortable enough tent, a larger one than those shared by the riders. A shadow rose from the floor.
“Lady,” said a soft, feminine voice, “the Chief sent me.”
Jana felt her ears burn.
“I’m a woman, and I don’t need what you offer, girl.”
She approached, and taking Jana’s hand, began removing the heavy bracelets. “I have been with women, Lady… if you are uncomfortable, I will depart, and send a man in my place.”
Her hands were soft, soft, and even as they undid her earrings, they soothed her.
“You are warm…I will cool you,” she said softly. The surplice came off, and the dress. “You dance beautifully!”
“Did you dance?”
“Yes… I smiled at you, but we all smiled at you!”
“What’s your name, girl?”
“Leila, my Lady… oh, you are so beautiful…”
Jana was naked now. The girl was dressed in a thin white cloth tied around her waist.
“The princess also has company---a woman!” She took Jana’s hand, and caressed it slowly, slowly.
“Who?” Jana’s voice was tense.
“The Chief’s daughter herself asked to go to her. She was very taken with the princess,” said Leila. She led Jana to the pallet, and dipped a cloth in a bowl of water, and began to wash her.
Despite Ianthe’s creative imagination, when Jana and she had made love it had been simple and direct. Apart from kissing and cuddling and caressing, they had done little else. They knew each other’s needs, and their intense love did the rest. But now Leila pleasured Jana in ways she had never dreamed of.
It was a long, slow climb. Seated by Jana who lay on her back, Leila held Jana’s hands in her own, and stroked them over her own breasts, stroking Jana’s palms with her own nipples.
“What is the Chief’s daughter like?” Jana asked, breathlessly.
“Beautiful,” sighed Leila. “She was the one who danced, just as you left…”
“With big green eyes?”
“Yes, that was she. Oh, she is a goddess… and when she is aroused… she goes crazy with passion!”
“What will happen to the princess?” gasped Jana.
“No, no; tonight is not a time for passion. But she will meet passion with passion…it depends on her highness. There is fire in her eyes, that one. And she has eyes for only you!”
Rising from the pallet, Leila hesitated.
“Lady, my eyes long to see you!”
Jana looked about, sitting up. The tent walls were thin, and they could be seen if they lit a lamp inside. There was a soft murmur of voices all around.
“There are ways to gain some privacy…” Leila retrieved a pile of fabric from a basket, and quickly the tent walls had a second layer of black fabric. Then Leila lit a lamp.
“Oh my lady!” gasped little Leila, clasping her hands, feasting her eyes on Jana’s body.
Jana, too, saw Leila in the lamplight. She was a tiny thing, all curves and smooth skin, with bright, hazel eyes, a face that seemed made for fun and smiles, and a body made for love and loving.
“You are so beautiful,” Leila breathed, “a perfect woman!” She pressed Jana down onto the pallet, ever so gently, and straddled her. Her eyes glowed with genuine admiration. This was no glib flattery. “You are more handsome than a man, more lovely than a woman!” She leaned forward to kiss Jana, and Jana felt her soft, firm breasts against her own. “How fortunate is the little princess!”
“You’re beautiful too, Leila, but beauty isn’t everything!”
“Oh…I don’t care…I only care for beauty…and for passion… and pleasure… see, see how you have made me bloom, like a hungry flower! Touch me! Feel Leila’s desire!” Her control was amazing, and her skills incredible. By the time she had finished making love to the lovelorn Horse officer, Jana was exhausted, simply by responding involuntarily to Leila’s loving attentions.
“Did Leila make you happy?”
“Turn out the light, and come back here.”
“Please! Tell me!” she whispered.
Jana held her close. “Yes, I will never forget you! If not for the princess…”
“Oh, my heart is already given to another,” she said regretfully. “I cannot tell you to whom!”
“I can guess,” said Jana, drily.
Leila froze, comically alarmed. “Who is it?”
“If you don’t know, who knows?”
“Tell me! ”
“The Chief’s daughter, of course!”
“Yes… it is obvious…” she caressed Jana’s breast. “You are both so different… you’re so innocent, you don’t know how beautiful you are!”
“My parents have bequeathed to me a healthy body, that’s all.”
“Yes!” Leila breathed. “Oh, how I love you, my lady!” She tenderly stroked Jana’s face, sighing. “Are you pledged to the lady princess?”
“Yes.”
Another sigh. “My love refused my pledge, Lady. But still, I love her.” Yet another sigh. “Do you have need of a maid, ---a stable girl,---a cook, a nurse? I can do anything, my Lady!”
“What need have I for such things, Leila? How will I ever have a child? I will live on a horse forever!”
“If my lady asked me, I would live on a horse forever, gladly!”
“Are you unhappy here, Leila?” asked Jana, gently.
“No, only lovesick, my Lady; it is a sweet pain, but pain, nevertheless! Once in a while she makes love to me, and she cares for me in her way… but it is agony to see her every day!” Jana tenderly stroked the girl’s velvety back, and she fell asleep on Jana’s stomach, like a little puppy.
In the wee hours, Jana felt kisses on her face, and when she woke up, Leila was gone.Monday, July 19, 2010
Jana, Episode 12: Stefan Returns
At that moment, the Horse-People were engaged in a huge battle. The Royal Guards, closing in on the Duke’s lands had been stunned to discover an enormous militia, outnumbering the Guards by several hundred ---all thieves and mercenaries from diverse regions. When the Horse People and the Queen had galloped up, they had been told of the impending showdown in the West. Only Andromache had seen the contingent heading out in the direction of the cabin, had outridden them, and had of course died trying to warn Ianthe and Jana. No one, outside the witnesses themselves, had an inkling of that incident yet.
The fighting at the Ducal Palace was fierce, and it was nearly midnight when the fortified Palace fell to the Horse-People and the Royal Guard. The Queen, seething with fury, had joined the fight, despite all advice, and taken an arrow to the chest. Her guards propped her up, while a healer bound her wound, and she watched the battle, fire in her eyes, but she never saw the end of it.
Meanwhile, with great difficulty, Ianthe had got Jana mounted, and led her horse all the way back to the Palace in Heliopolis, only to see her mother’s bier.
The Captain of the King’s Own faced the King.
“The Queen is dead.” The King’s face went blank. “The Duke was attacked savagely, but he clings to life. The boy arrived just as I left; he has aged much. There is a girl, of about thirteen.”
“No uncles, aunts? Older siblings?”
The man shook his head. “He wanted to collect tolls on the road, and she refused. Said that she maintained it, and it would be free.” The King nodded.
He had loved and admired the woman who had ruled the land across the border. She had fallen to greed and thuggery. She could have easily avoided the battle!
“How did she die?”
“She had her bow with her, and began shooting. They say that with twenty-four arrows, she took down twenty-four men! But she wasn’t armored. It was our fault!”
“No, no it wasn’t… she was reckless. What a woman!” The King wept. “What a waste!”
Until the King dismissed him, the Captain must wait. There was no one to see the King’s grief but him. Having met the Queen Ione, the Captain was not surprised. He could still see, in his mind’s eye, her extraordinary grey eyes. He remembered being torn between kneeling before her, and kissing her soft lips. How alive she had been, as she rode into the City, eyes flashing, cheeks burning! He could easily imagine the vital young girl she must have been in her youth!
He watched the King in silence, as he wept. The world mourned Ione, while the Duke wondered where he had failed. He would never see the enormity of his crime.
“The girl Jana?” asked the King, hopefully.
The Captain heaved a heavy sigh.
“She’s lost her mind, my Lord. There was a minor skirmish somewhere in the North, and for whatever reasons, the girl was shaken.” He shrugged. “The two children are shattered by Jana’s condition. She had held them together for months, they told me--- poison, sniper attacks…”
“Go back, then. I want to see for myself, but not until they’re ready. Otherwise a visit from me will be seen as a threat.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Who is in charge?”
He shrugged. “I suppose Nicodemus, the Captain of the Royal Guards.”
“Go, but not in uniform. Help to secure the place. Send Jana back here.”
Captain Nicodemus stood on the Palace steps and addressed the waiting crowd, reading from a scroll. He confirmed that the Queen was dead, not from fire, but of an arrow wound. The Royal heirs were both safe, and until the family announced a succession, the Royal Guard would keep the peace. He urged them to go about their business, but that silence would be observed all the following day, in honor of the late Queen.
Stefan and Ianthe stood in the watery sunlight, dressed all in white, the color of mourning. A line of citizens filed past the late Queen’s body, which had been dressed in Royal Blue, her face stern in death. The line stretched as far as the eye could see. Nina clung to Ianthe’s skirt, dressed in her customary little white robe, her hair in a white ribbon. Sophie stood on Ianthe’s other side, also in white. Jana was behind them, seated, staring straight ahead. Thousands had pressed the hands of the prince and princess in condolence, and thousands had wept openly.
The children no longer reacted to anything.
Then, a slim, fair-haired young woman stepped forward to kiss each of them.
“Penelope!”
“Oh Ianthe! I am so, so sorry!”
His eyes full of tears, again, Stefan gently pulled Penelope between them, and took the proffered hand of the next person. Penny was family.
Late in the afternoon, the there was a military salute to the Queen, and the hundreds of dead guardsmen and Horse People. Then Stefan, Ianthe, Penelope, Sophie and Nina had to bury the Queen in the family burial-ground just past the inner courtyard. A marker would be erected in the City cemetery, and the people would lay flowers there. But the body would lie in the Palace grounds.
“Jana!” cried Ianthe. But there was no response. The children threw earth into the grave. If Jana were herself, she would have been such a help! But Stefan did it all himself, with Ianthe’s encouragement, and a little help from Sophie.
Jana sat on the steps, expressionless. Ianthe had had to dress her as if she were a corpse---wash her hair, wipe her dry, tie her breech-clout, pull on her singlet and her tunic, her girdle and her sandals, braid her hair. She looked a doll, all pretty and neat. Her muscles were all soft. Her eyes were vacant. Ianthe could not love her. Jana was gone.
In the inner courtyard of the children, Stefan sat next to Jana, held her hand and caressed it, tears pouring down his cheeks. Penelope looked at Stefan with great sad eyes.
“They’ve sent food, Princess!”
“No.”
“There’s enough for a stew in the larder, my Lady!”
“That’s better. Come on, Nina.”
“I can’t stand to see Jana, my lady!” Ianthe only shook her head. Stefan’s carrying-on disgusted her. If he would only open his eyes and look at poor Penelope!
She cut the onions viciously. She knew Jana was inside there, but she wondered what would heal her.
The previous night, having made Jana move her bowels and empty her bladder, Ianthe had cleaned her up and put her to bed. With little Nina and Sophie by her, she had put her arms round Jana and told her how much she loved her, over and over again. At times it had seemed as if a cloud crossed her eyes. But that was all.
They forced Stefan to eat a little of the stew, and they all felt better.
“She’s a beautiful girl,” said Penelope softly.
“Who?” asked Stefan.
“Jana,” replied Penelope. “Not just her appearance; she was sweet-natured and loving.”
“She isn’t dead, Penny,” Stefan said, a slight edge to his voice.
Penny looked at him. “I loved her too, Stefan. We’re all trying to figure it out, each in our own way, that’s all.” She spoke gently, but firmly. It was as if Stefan saw her for the first time.
“Why---when did she shut down like this?” Penny asked Ianthe.
“When…when she saw Andromache hacked to death!”
There was a stunned silence, while Ianthe cursed herself silently. That was the difference between them: Ianthe’s bitterness came out in her speech; Jana kept it bottled inside, and it seared her mind.
“It must have been violent,” Penelope murmured with a shudder.
“Violence? Rubbish; she taught me to fight, dammit. Hack, hack, hack; she was plenty violent herself! Violence was nothing to her!”
“It was the brutality, then; fighters are not brutal, necessarily. Brutality is a kind of cowardliness.”
Ianthe stared at Penelope. She couldn’t believe her ears.
Penelope saw her, and turned red. “I want to help,” she said softly. “One of you has to be King or Queen, but both of you have to do it together. You have to think, plan, be as good as adults! Jana would have helped you, but she can’t! But the three of us, together, we might be able to do it!”
Ianthe was amazed at her forthrightness. She was realizing what a staunch friend Penelope had always been, especially during the poisoning period.
“I didn’t mean to be rude, Penny. I believed your were more intelligent than you liked to appear!”
Penelope laughed, then she sobered. “If I had learned to shoot with a bow…I could have come to the cabin with you… things might have been different…”
“No,” disagreed Ianthe at once. “No…I can see it still … Jana was all tensed, horrified… one hand held her bow, and with the other she was pushing me back, into the trees! She would never have let you be seen… Oh dear gods! Oh, how bitter it is!” Ianthe held her head and laid it on the table, and wept bitterly once more, pounding her head in misery. Stefan watched her, flabbergasted. Sophie was softly crying, her eyes huge in the lamplight. Stefan looked at Penelope, confused. Then a tear rolled down Jana’s cheek, just as they heard a soft knock on the kitchen door.
Captain Vila introduced himself and sat down. Sophie brought him a bowl of stew. Jana wept quietly, her face in her hands.
The fighting at the Ducal Palace was fierce, and it was nearly midnight when the fortified Palace fell to the Horse-People and the Royal Guard. The Queen, seething with fury, had joined the fight, despite all advice, and taken an arrow to the chest. Her guards propped her up, while a healer bound her wound, and she watched the battle, fire in her eyes, but she never saw the end of it.
Meanwhile, with great difficulty, Ianthe had got Jana mounted, and led her horse all the way back to the Palace in Heliopolis, only to see her mother’s bier.
King Ahaz Hears the News
“Tell me everything,” said the King, firmly. “And quickly; we must hurry!”The Captain of the King’s Own faced the King.
“The Queen is dead.” The King’s face went blank. “The Duke was attacked savagely, but he clings to life. The boy arrived just as I left; he has aged much. There is a girl, of about thirteen.”
“No uncles, aunts? Older siblings?”
The man shook his head. “He wanted to collect tolls on the road, and she refused. Said that she maintained it, and it would be free.” The King nodded.
He had loved and admired the woman who had ruled the land across the border. She had fallen to greed and thuggery. She could have easily avoided the battle!
“How did she die?”
“She had her bow with her, and began shooting. They say that with twenty-four arrows, she took down twenty-four men! But she wasn’t armored. It was our fault!”
“No, no it wasn’t… she was reckless. What a woman!” The King wept. “What a waste!”
Until the King dismissed him, the Captain must wait. There was no one to see the King’s grief but him. Having met the Queen Ione, the Captain was not surprised. He could still see, in his mind’s eye, her extraordinary grey eyes. He remembered being torn between kneeling before her, and kissing her soft lips. How alive she had been, as she rode into the City, eyes flashing, cheeks burning! He could easily imagine the vital young girl she must have been in her youth!
He watched the King in silence, as he wept. The world mourned Ione, while the Duke wondered where he had failed. He would never see the enormity of his crime.
“The girl Jana?” asked the King, hopefully.
The Captain heaved a heavy sigh.
“She’s lost her mind, my Lord. There was a minor skirmish somewhere in the North, and for whatever reasons, the girl was shaken.” He shrugged. “The two children are shattered by Jana’s condition. She had held them together for months, they told me--- poison, sniper attacks…”
“Go back, then. I want to see for myself, but not until they’re ready. Otherwise a visit from me will be seen as a threat.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Who is in charge?”
He shrugged. “I suppose Nicodemus, the Captain of the Royal Guards.”
“Go, but not in uniform. Help to secure the place. Send Jana back here.”
Captain Nicodemus stood on the Palace steps and addressed the waiting crowd, reading from a scroll. He confirmed that the Queen was dead, not from fire, but of an arrow wound. The Royal heirs were both safe, and until the family announced a succession, the Royal Guard would keep the peace. He urged them to go about their business, but that silence would be observed all the following day, in honor of the late Queen.
Stefan and Ianthe stood in the watery sunlight, dressed all in white, the color of mourning. A line of citizens filed past the late Queen’s body, which had been dressed in Royal Blue, her face stern in death. The line stretched as far as the eye could see. Nina clung to Ianthe’s skirt, dressed in her customary little white robe, her hair in a white ribbon. Sophie stood on Ianthe’s other side, also in white. Jana was behind them, seated, staring straight ahead. Thousands had pressed the hands of the prince and princess in condolence, and thousands had wept openly.
The children no longer reacted to anything.
Then, a slim, fair-haired young woman stepped forward to kiss each of them.
“Penelope!”
“Oh Ianthe! I am so, so sorry!”
His eyes full of tears, again, Stefan gently pulled Penelope between them, and took the proffered hand of the next person. Penny was family.
Late in the afternoon, the there was a military salute to the Queen, and the hundreds of dead guardsmen and Horse People. Then Stefan, Ianthe, Penelope, Sophie and Nina had to bury the Queen in the family burial-ground just past the inner courtyard. A marker would be erected in the City cemetery, and the people would lay flowers there. But the body would lie in the Palace grounds.
“Jana!” cried Ianthe. But there was no response. The children threw earth into the grave. If Jana were herself, she would have been such a help! But Stefan did it all himself, with Ianthe’s encouragement, and a little help from Sophie.
Jana sat on the steps, expressionless. Ianthe had had to dress her as if she were a corpse---wash her hair, wipe her dry, tie her breech-clout, pull on her singlet and her tunic, her girdle and her sandals, braid her hair. She looked a doll, all pretty and neat. Her muscles were all soft. Her eyes were vacant. Ianthe could not love her. Jana was gone.
In the inner courtyard of the children, Stefan sat next to Jana, held her hand and caressed it, tears pouring down his cheeks. Penelope looked at Stefan with great sad eyes.
“They’ve sent food, Princess!”
“No.”
“There’s enough for a stew in the larder, my Lady!”
“That’s better. Come on, Nina.”
“I can’t stand to see Jana, my lady!” Ianthe only shook her head. Stefan’s carrying-on disgusted her. If he would only open his eyes and look at poor Penelope!
She cut the onions viciously. She knew Jana was inside there, but she wondered what would heal her.
The previous night, having made Jana move her bowels and empty her bladder, Ianthe had cleaned her up and put her to bed. With little Nina and Sophie by her, she had put her arms round Jana and told her how much she loved her, over and over again. At times it had seemed as if a cloud crossed her eyes. But that was all.
They forced Stefan to eat a little of the stew, and they all felt better.
“She’s a beautiful girl,” said Penelope softly.
“Who?” asked Stefan.
“Jana,” replied Penelope. “Not just her appearance; she was sweet-natured and loving.”
“She isn’t dead, Penny,” Stefan said, a slight edge to his voice.
Penny looked at him. “I loved her too, Stefan. We’re all trying to figure it out, each in our own way, that’s all.” She spoke gently, but firmly. It was as if Stefan saw her for the first time.
“Why---when did she shut down like this?” Penny asked Ianthe.
“When…when she saw Andromache hacked to death!”
There was a stunned silence, while Ianthe cursed herself silently. That was the difference between them: Ianthe’s bitterness came out in her speech; Jana kept it bottled inside, and it seared her mind.
“It must have been violent,” Penelope murmured with a shudder.
“Violence? Rubbish; she taught me to fight, dammit. Hack, hack, hack; she was plenty violent herself! Violence was nothing to her!”
“It was the brutality, then; fighters are not brutal, necessarily. Brutality is a kind of cowardliness.”
Ianthe stared at Penelope. She couldn’t believe her ears.
Penelope saw her, and turned red. “I want to help,” she said softly. “One of you has to be King or Queen, but both of you have to do it together. You have to think, plan, be as good as adults! Jana would have helped you, but she can’t! But the three of us, together, we might be able to do it!”
Ianthe was amazed at her forthrightness. She was realizing what a staunch friend Penelope had always been, especially during the poisoning period.
“I didn’t mean to be rude, Penny. I believed your were more intelligent than you liked to appear!”
Penelope laughed, then she sobered. “If I had learned to shoot with a bow…I could have come to the cabin with you… things might have been different…”
“No,” disagreed Ianthe at once. “No…I can see it still … Jana was all tensed, horrified… one hand held her bow, and with the other she was pushing me back, into the trees! She would never have let you be seen… Oh dear gods! Oh, how bitter it is!” Ianthe held her head and laid it on the table, and wept bitterly once more, pounding her head in misery. Stefan watched her, flabbergasted. Sophie was softly crying, her eyes huge in the lamplight. Stefan looked at Penelope, confused. Then a tear rolled down Jana’s cheek, just as they heard a soft knock on the kitchen door.
Captain Vila introduced himself and sat down. Sophie brought him a bowl of stew. Jana wept quietly, her face in her hands.
“The King asked about all of you, but was upset about Jana. She’s crying… it is a good sign, a very good sign,” he said kindly. “What were you saying that broke through?”
“It’s my belief that she couldn’t keep Ianthe hidden and go to help Andromache at the same time,” said Stefan, and to their surprise, Jana got up, and ran weeping out into the dark courtyard. Ianthe stood, but Stefan was quicker. He was out with Jana holding her tenderly.
“Don’t cry, love! Oh, I can’t bear it!”
“I am a coward, a coward, a coward! A thousand times a coward!” she sobbed, in utter self-loathing. Suddenly she stopped. “I am not worthy of her,” she said, barely in a whisper.
“Of whom?”
“Ianthe.”
“What about me?” demanded Ianthe, hurrying up.
“I …I…I let you down!”
“No, you didn’t” said Ianthe, realizing the awkwardness of the situation.
They were in the dark, Stefan staring jealously at Jana and Ianthe, Ianthe longing to ask Jana some intimate questions, and Jana wondering how to tell Stefan that she could never love him like she loved Ianthe. And Penelope watched the three of them, while the Captain kept talking to her.
“You’ve grown taller,” said Jana to Stefan through lowered lashes. Ianthe was surprised, it was so uncharacteristic. She’s flattering him, not flirting, she told herself.
It worked.
“Really? It’s possible, I suppose!”
“Penny is watching you!”
Stefan laughed. “She’s quite a kid!”
Jana picked at her clothes. “Someone has dressed me beautifully,” she said softly.
“It was me,” said Ianthe.
“You brought me home, and …looked after me. I remember it like a dream. Stefan,” she said softly, addressing him, “could you give us a few moments together?”
It was some time later.
“Jana, the King will be relieved, and I am so relieved, we need a new word for how I feel!” said Villa. They laughed, but it was plainly true. “Under the circumstances, the King says it is better that he should stay away until there is a new ruler here,” he continued, addressing the young people in general, looking each of them in the eye. “A good ruler must earn the respect of his or her subjects; a friend to all neighboring lands, and a puppet of none. You understand?” They all nodded. At last, help had arrived. “Both children of the late Queen are qualified. And you are both blessed, because neither of you is ambitious, and there are no ambitious older men or women, seeking to influence you!”
“There are, Captain,” said Penelope, in a low voice. “The Duke was my uncle, and there is his son…there may be trouble in the offing.”
“No member of the Duke’s near family can hold power here,” said the Captain with a gentle smile. “The fox is out of his lair, and has been put out of business. The fox cubs must be dealt with fairly, and then the matter will be over. We must wait and see.” Penny nodded, reluctantly.
“Officer Jana: the King has summoned you. But your friends here may need your strength; I shall explain to the King.”
“No, Captain; I will go.”
“Jana!” cried Ianthe and Stefan, together.
“I will go,” repeated Jana, in almost a whisper, her head hanging.
“Will you return here, once you have visited your family?”
Jana shrugged. Then softly she said, “Perhaps.”
“Then I will come with you,” declared Ianthe. “I have been trapped here so long, and seen only fear and death! My brother has traveled and studied; now I am free, and I shall visit his Majesty, and Jana’s family!”
“But you have a duty!” said Penelope, aghast. “Stefan is a scholar, you must help him, or you must rule!”
“The people will be safe for a while,” insisted Ianthe. “I am not turning my back on them. And I have faith in Stefan, and Penelope, who is a cautious girl.”
“Yes,” the Captain agreed, looking thoughtful. “There seems no outcry for a quick succession. It is a good sign.”
Stefan drew Jana into the privacy of the Queen’s sanctum, a quiet courtyard where none ventured but Sophie. Ianthe saw, but said nothing.
“There is no one to deny us now---will you come to my bed, Jana?”
“It is still early,” said Jana sitting on a wide bench, making space for Stefan. “Come, we must talk,” Stefan sat. How he has changed, she thought! He is not a sweet, biddable boy, nor is he the angry, stubborn one I escorted to the school; but he is still young, and blind.
“Stefan, …do you remember that morning, when I saw you, naked and beautiful, full of shame for your arousal, and I desired you ...”
“Yes…how could I forget?”
“I was only a silly girl, dear, full of the lust of a woman, and the wisdom of a puppy. When I lay on you that day, it was lust, yes, and…”
“You felt protective of me!”
“Indeed. You see that now?”
“I knew it from the first, my Jana! But we are more equals now; we have been together as a man and a woman… don’t you desire that?”
“That was also…only the slaking of lust, for both of us. You may have imagined it to be love! But I … Stefan, I know what love is!”
He stared at her horrified. And she saw in his eyes that he knew the truth.
“It is only a childish fancy!”
“Perhaps! Perhaps so. These are all childish fancies, Stefan. I hope to end them all, by returning home.”
He turned to her, his eyes wet with tears.
“This is your home!” he cried. Then he came to kneel at her feet. Taking her hands in his, he stammered, “Jana… in my heart, you are my home! Without you, this place is nothing! I am homeless!”
Curse the boy! She had brought him into manhood, and he clung to her still.
“Refuse to take her with you, then!” Stefan insisted.
Jana sighed. How could she refuse to conduct the Princess safely to King Ahaz? Was it not her right? Her face revealed her doubts to him.
He rose, and began to pace. “You … and my sister… lovers… I cannot imagine her a creature of lust!” Jana regarded him gravely, biting down on her amusement. “Do you awaken lust in everyone you meet, Jana?” There was too much truth in his accusation for comfort: even the Queen herself, and Lady Penelope, had looked at Jana with some lust in their eyes.
“Go to bed now,” she urged. “Sleep alone. If you need comfort … I will comfort you, but I will sleep here, in the courtyard!”
“No,” said he, disgusted by the idea. “You are not a servant! Good night, then.”
In the morning, the Captain placed his men in Jana’s charge; and having saluted the Captain and Prince Stefan, they wheeled smartly, and with the Princess in the middle of their company, headed off to the south. The Princess made a pretty picture, in a brief riding dress, mounted astride her big black gelding, her cares and her lover all forgotten in the pleasure of riding her horse. He loved his rider, and pranced beneath her, eager to run.
It was some time later.
“Jana, the King will be relieved, and I am so relieved, we need a new word for how I feel!” said Villa. They laughed, but it was plainly true. “Under the circumstances, the King says it is better that he should stay away until there is a new ruler here,” he continued, addressing the young people in general, looking each of them in the eye. “A good ruler must earn the respect of his or her subjects; a friend to all neighboring lands, and a puppet of none. You understand?” They all nodded. At last, help had arrived. “Both children of the late Queen are qualified. And you are both blessed, because neither of you is ambitious, and there are no ambitious older men or women, seeking to influence you!”
“There are, Captain,” said Penelope, in a low voice. “The Duke was my uncle, and there is his son…there may be trouble in the offing.”
“No member of the Duke’s near family can hold power here,” said the Captain with a gentle smile. “The fox is out of his lair, and has been put out of business. The fox cubs must be dealt with fairly, and then the matter will be over. We must wait and see.” Penny nodded, reluctantly.
“Officer Jana: the King has summoned you. But your friends here may need your strength; I shall explain to the King.”
“No, Captain; I will go.”
“Jana!” cried Ianthe and Stefan, together.
“I will go,” repeated Jana, in almost a whisper, her head hanging.
“Will you return here, once you have visited your family?”
Jana shrugged. Then softly she said, “Perhaps.”
“Then I will come with you,” declared Ianthe. “I have been trapped here so long, and seen only fear and death! My brother has traveled and studied; now I am free, and I shall visit his Majesty, and Jana’s family!”
“But you have a duty!” said Penelope, aghast. “Stefan is a scholar, you must help him, or you must rule!”
“The people will be safe for a while,” insisted Ianthe. “I am not turning my back on them. And I have faith in Stefan, and Penelope, who is a cautious girl.”
“Yes,” the Captain agreed, looking thoughtful. “There seems no outcry for a quick succession. It is a good sign.”
Stefan drew Jana into the privacy of the Queen’s sanctum, a quiet courtyard where none ventured but Sophie. Ianthe saw, but said nothing.
“There is no one to deny us now---will you come to my bed, Jana?”
“It is still early,” said Jana sitting on a wide bench, making space for Stefan. “Come, we must talk,” Stefan sat. How he has changed, she thought! He is not a sweet, biddable boy, nor is he the angry, stubborn one I escorted to the school; but he is still young, and blind.
“Stefan, …do you remember that morning, when I saw you, naked and beautiful, full of shame for your arousal, and I desired you ...”
“Yes…how could I forget?”
“I was only a silly girl, dear, full of the lust of a woman, and the wisdom of a puppy. When I lay on you that day, it was lust, yes, and…”
“You felt protective of me!”
“Indeed. You see that now?”
“I knew it from the first, my Jana! But we are more equals now; we have been together as a man and a woman… don’t you desire that?”
“That was also…only the slaking of lust, for both of us. You may have imagined it to be love! But I … Stefan, I know what love is!”
He stared at her horrified. And she saw in his eyes that he knew the truth.
“It is only a childish fancy!”
“Perhaps! Perhaps so. These are all childish fancies, Stefan. I hope to end them all, by returning home.”
He turned to her, his eyes wet with tears.
“This is your home!” he cried. Then he came to kneel at her feet. Taking her hands in his, he stammered, “Jana… in my heart, you are my home! Without you, this place is nothing! I am homeless!”
Curse the boy! She had brought him into manhood, and he clung to her still.
“Refuse to take her with you, then!” Stefan insisted.
Jana sighed. How could she refuse to conduct the Princess safely to King Ahaz? Was it not her right? Her face revealed her doubts to him.
He rose, and began to pace. “You … and my sister… lovers… I cannot imagine her a creature of lust!” Jana regarded him gravely, biting down on her amusement. “Do you awaken lust in everyone you meet, Jana?” There was too much truth in his accusation for comfort: even the Queen herself, and Lady Penelope, had looked at Jana with some lust in their eyes.
“Go to bed now,” she urged. “Sleep alone. If you need comfort … I will comfort you, but I will sleep here, in the courtyard!”
“No,” said he, disgusted by the idea. “You are not a servant! Good night, then.”
In the morning, the Captain placed his men in Jana’s charge; and having saluted the Captain and Prince Stefan, they wheeled smartly, and with the Princess in the middle of their company, headed off to the south. The Princess made a pretty picture, in a brief riding dress, mounted astride her big black gelding, her cares and her lover all forgotten in the pleasure of riding her horse. He loved his rider, and pranced beneath her, eager to run.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Jana, Episode 11
The Commander of the Royal Guard, Captain Nicodemus, came to the Palace. “We’re going to surround the Western Province. We will have warning about an armed group leaving the Duke’s lands.”
“Yes, Captain,” said Jana, having duly saluted.
“We can’t surround the cabin; we were told to avoid a presence there completely.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“The Horse People can get to the cabin in two days, from the border. We’ll try to give you as much warning as possible if we see riders heading to the cabin from the Duke’s holdings, as I said.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“When will you set out?”
“Three … no, five days, Sir!”
“Make it two!”
“But Sir!”
“Look outside, Officer Jana! The City has ground to a standstill! You will destroy the City, and they’ll never let you leave! They’ll beg the Queen to stay safely in the Palace. There are ten thousand people out there!”
“Can’t we send them to visit the Duke?”
The Captain gave Jana a twisted smile. “Without evidence, that’s slander.”
“There is evidence!”
“Where?” thundered the Captain.
Ianthe explained in a tiny voice, leaving out names.
“Will she come forward?” Ianthe shook her head. The Captain tore at his hair and groaned. “If only I had deployed my men earlier!”
“We’re caught in our own trap,” muttered Jana, cursing.
Ianthe was bitter. “I should have kept silent. No one would have known the plan!”
“Tell them you’re not going,” suggested Sophie in a low voice.
It was the only thing to do.
“Dear friends,” said Ianthe, from the front steps, “we have heard you. The Queen will not seek a confrontation. We will endure this Winter, and seek a solution in the Spring! The gods bless you!”
Only those in the courtyard could hear, but the word spread. The roars of “Queen Ione! Queen Ione!” grew quieter, and faded out altogether in an hour or so. The City was back to normal. There were petitions to see the Queen, but she pleaded indisposition. Jana went on a ride, covered in a veil, to allay any doubts that the Queen was in the Palace, and the flag flew proudly from the mast.
The day arrived. Two hours before dawn, Sophie hugged her mistress and Jana, and The Queen and Ianthe slipped away from the Palace. Through the corner of her eye, Jana thought she saw a shadow fly out into the darkness, and the faint clatter of hooves far away.
“Did you hear that?”
“What is it?”
“They were watching for us,” said Jana. The Queen had a melodious voice which was nevertheless rather clipped, but Jana approximated it beautifully. Jana’s own voice was rather even-toned, and it was her face and hands that provided expression. With Ione it was the opposite!
“Oh, I feel so free! I could fly,” sang Ianthe. “To be out of that death-trap!”
They headed out somewhat in the wrong direction, deliberately, to annoy the spies. Then they headed towards the cabin. As morning broke, consternation followed in the wake of the Queen and her daughter. Ianthe smiled and waved to the children, a thing she had rarely done before. Jana simply rode, veiled, her head bowed. The absence of the Guard itself upset the people, but they only stood and stared.
Soon they entered the woods, and Ianthe rode close to Jana. But nothing at all happened. Just as the sun went down, they were at the cabin.
The caretaker was stunned.
“Is there firewood?”
“Yes, your highness!”
“Will you send some bread in the morning?”
“Yes, yes, your highness!”
“Good. We can manage, thanks!”
“But, to cook! To guard!”
“We will be fine!” said Jana, in the Queen’s voice, and the man bowed low and backed away, and hurried home.
“Let’s tether the horses up on the hill, under the trees,” said Ianthe, her heart beating fast. “I just don’t know; it seems like a good idea!”
Jana nodded agreement. If there were to be a sneak attack, the attackers would kill the horses first. It was a firm habit, now; Ianthe never forgot the welfare of the horses. Jana felt a quick pride in that. It had been a privilege to mold Ianthe into a wonderful woman. To be her lover … it was almost too much. If everything goes wrong, Jana thought, at least I’ll have Ianthe. It was an ugly, despicable thought, but it was foremost in her mind: she had to save the girl somehow. She examined her arrows, the bow, the knives, her sword, a double-edged short-sword.
“I need to …”
“Go on; I’ll keep watch.” The stream was just twenty yards downhill from where they had tethered the horses, between themselves and the cabin. It looked eerie. Was someone inside the cabin? No …
Jana froze. There seemed to be a shadow of someone moving against the window shades.
“Ianthe?” she called.
“What?”
“Something’s strange… Stay hidden ---I’m going down to take a look!”
“All right,” said Ianthe, and Jana could feel her biting back her fear.
A few steps more… they were only chairs. The peculiar chairs looked like people, in the firelight. “It’s just the chairs!” she called, going back up the hill.
Suddenly there was the thunder of hooves, and screaming. A single white horse was galloping flat out, the rider crying out something unintelligible.
“Ianthe!”
“I see it!”
The horseman came like the wind, as if pursued by all the demons. And so it was; a thunderous sound echoed up the valley ---riders--- a score of them, in pursuit!
“The Horse-People?” whispered Ianthe. Jana was struck dumb.
“Get away! Get away! They’re coming!” yelled the lone rider in front. Jana recognized the rider: it was Andromache. She leaped from her horse and pounded on the cabin door. “Open up! Open up!”
Suddenly her pursuers got to her, and she was down. In the darkness they saw her hacked down, and in no time at all, the cabin was on fire, and the attackers were gone, only making sure that no one escaped the until the cabin was well ablaze.
Ianthe and Jana watched, paralyzed with horror. All they could think was: Andromache’s dead. At last Ianthe’s lips said the words, and she fell in a dead faint.
Miraculously, only the cabin burned. Jana carried Ianthe into the trees, and watched, shocked stupid. She had expected that, perhaps, the Queen might get killed, or Ianthe, or Jana herself. But poor, innocent Andromache! Jana cursed the gods silently. Only one woman and a small building was destroyed, but the violence of it! How they must hate the Queen!
“Jana?” It was a tremulous whisper.
“They’re gone, my precious! Oh, how my hear hurts!”
“Is she dead?”
“She didn’t have a chance.”
There was a disturbance. The homesteads in the valley were lit up; lamps and torches were coming up the hill. “The Queen! The Queen!” The caretaker was bawling. “The Queen is dead! Oh, they’ve burned her alive! Oh, they’ve killed them all! All dead! Oh, all dead, dead, dead!”
“There’s just the one man … no, a girl---oh, dear spirits… they’ve cut her head off.”
Jana held Ianthe tight, trembling.
“Jana?”
There was no reply. The big girl was racked with bitter, bitter grief. Ianthe slipped her arms round her, and held her tenderly.
The fire blazed for hours, despite the damp. Ianthe lost track of the time and the events. She just held Jana, blessing her for her size, and the heat she radiated. As the grey of dawn lit the sky, there was only a square of ashes, and a sad, beheaded body of a girl, cast away like a broken doll.
When Jana pulled herself together, the sun was well up.
“You’re safe,” whispered Jana, like a prayer.
“But Andromache…”
“Yes!” sobbed Jana.
“Where are these Horse-People?”
“I don’t know…”
“Where shall we go? What shall we do?”
Jana shook her head and curled into a ball. The thought that it was she who had devised this ill-advised plan occupied her whole mind. There was room for only very little else: Andromache was dead.
But Ianthe was safe.
“Jana, … the Duke thinks mother and I are dead.” Jana rocked back and forth. “He’ll go into the Palace and claim the throne!” No response. “Jana, if we don’t do something, Mother and Stefan will think you and I are dead!”
Jana’s mind had fled. Ianthe knew that Jana and Andromache had been close, but not so close as to unhinge the big girl.
They had to face facts. It was a complicated plan, and it had gone wrong in a complicated way, and things were a mess. If it was generally believed that the Queen was dead, if Stefan didn’t show up in time, the Duke would claim the throne. The stupid villagers were even now sending word to the City that Queen Ione had been burned alive.
And where was the Captain’s Guards? Only Andromache had arrived to give warning! And where were the Horse-People?
“Yes, Captain,” said Jana, having duly saluted.
“We can’t surround the cabin; we were told to avoid a presence there completely.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“The Horse People can get to the cabin in two days, from the border. We’ll try to give you as much warning as possible if we see riders heading to the cabin from the Duke’s holdings, as I said.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“When will you set out?”
“Three … no, five days, Sir!”
“Make it two!”
“But Sir!”
“Look outside, Officer Jana! The City has ground to a standstill! You will destroy the City, and they’ll never let you leave! They’ll beg the Queen to stay safely in the Palace. There are ten thousand people out there!”
“Can’t we send them to visit the Duke?”
The Captain gave Jana a twisted smile. “Without evidence, that’s slander.”
“There is evidence!”
“Where?” thundered the Captain.
Ianthe explained in a tiny voice, leaving out names.
“Will she come forward?” Ianthe shook her head. The Captain tore at his hair and groaned. “If only I had deployed my men earlier!”
“We’re caught in our own trap,” muttered Jana, cursing.
Ianthe was bitter. “I should have kept silent. No one would have known the plan!”
“Tell them you’re not going,” suggested Sophie in a low voice.
It was the only thing to do.
“Dear friends,” said Ianthe, from the front steps, “we have heard you. The Queen will not seek a confrontation. We will endure this Winter, and seek a solution in the Spring! The gods bless you!”
Only those in the courtyard could hear, but the word spread. The roars of “Queen Ione! Queen Ione!” grew quieter, and faded out altogether in an hour or so. The City was back to normal. There were petitions to see the Queen, but she pleaded indisposition. Jana went on a ride, covered in a veil, to allay any doubts that the Queen was in the Palace, and the flag flew proudly from the mast.
The day arrived. Two hours before dawn, Sophie hugged her mistress and Jana, and The Queen and Ianthe slipped away from the Palace. Through the corner of her eye, Jana thought she saw a shadow fly out into the darkness, and the faint clatter of hooves far away.
“Did you hear that?”
“What is it?”
“They were watching for us,” said Jana. The Queen had a melodious voice which was nevertheless rather clipped, but Jana approximated it beautifully. Jana’s own voice was rather even-toned, and it was her face and hands that provided expression. With Ione it was the opposite!
“Oh, I feel so free! I could fly,” sang Ianthe. “To be out of that death-trap!”
They headed out somewhat in the wrong direction, deliberately, to annoy the spies. Then they headed towards the cabin. As morning broke, consternation followed in the wake of the Queen and her daughter. Ianthe smiled and waved to the children, a thing she had rarely done before. Jana simply rode, veiled, her head bowed. The absence of the Guard itself upset the people, but they only stood and stared.
Soon they entered the woods, and Ianthe rode close to Jana. But nothing at all happened. Just as the sun went down, they were at the cabin.
The caretaker was stunned.
“Is there firewood?”
“Yes, your highness!”
“Will you send some bread in the morning?”
“Yes, yes, your highness!”
“Good. We can manage, thanks!”
“But, to cook! To guard!”
“We will be fine!” said Jana, in the Queen’s voice, and the man bowed low and backed away, and hurried home.
“Let’s tether the horses up on the hill, under the trees,” said Ianthe, her heart beating fast. “I just don’t know; it seems like a good idea!”
Jana nodded agreement. If there were to be a sneak attack, the attackers would kill the horses first. It was a firm habit, now; Ianthe never forgot the welfare of the horses. Jana felt a quick pride in that. It had been a privilege to mold Ianthe into a wonderful woman. To be her lover … it was almost too much. If everything goes wrong, Jana thought, at least I’ll have Ianthe. It was an ugly, despicable thought, but it was foremost in her mind: she had to save the girl somehow. She examined her arrows, the bow, the knives, her sword, a double-edged short-sword.
“I need to …”
“Go on; I’ll keep watch.” The stream was just twenty yards downhill from where they had tethered the horses, between themselves and the cabin. It looked eerie. Was someone inside the cabin? No …
Jana froze. There seemed to be a shadow of someone moving against the window shades.
“Ianthe?” she called.
“What?”
“Something’s strange… Stay hidden ---I’m going down to take a look!”
“All right,” said Ianthe, and Jana could feel her biting back her fear.
A few steps more… they were only chairs. The peculiar chairs looked like people, in the firelight. “It’s just the chairs!” she called, going back up the hill.
Suddenly there was the thunder of hooves, and screaming. A single white horse was galloping flat out, the rider crying out something unintelligible.
“Ianthe!”
“I see it!”
The horseman came like the wind, as if pursued by all the demons. And so it was; a thunderous sound echoed up the valley ---riders--- a score of them, in pursuit!
“The Horse-People?” whispered Ianthe. Jana was struck dumb.
“Get away! Get away! They’re coming!” yelled the lone rider in front. Jana recognized the rider: it was Andromache. She leaped from her horse and pounded on the cabin door. “Open up! Open up!”
Suddenly her pursuers got to her, and she was down. In the darkness they saw her hacked down, and in no time at all, the cabin was on fire, and the attackers were gone, only making sure that no one escaped the until the cabin was well ablaze.
Ianthe and Jana watched, paralyzed with horror. All they could think was: Andromache’s dead. At last Ianthe’s lips said the words, and she fell in a dead faint.
Miraculously, only the cabin burned. Jana carried Ianthe into the trees, and watched, shocked stupid. She had expected that, perhaps, the Queen might get killed, or Ianthe, or Jana herself. But poor, innocent Andromache! Jana cursed the gods silently. Only one woman and a small building was destroyed, but the violence of it! How they must hate the Queen!
“Jana?” It was a tremulous whisper.
“They’re gone, my precious! Oh, how my hear hurts!”
“Is she dead?”
“She didn’t have a chance.”
There was a disturbance. The homesteads in the valley were lit up; lamps and torches were coming up the hill. “The Queen! The Queen!” The caretaker was bawling. “The Queen is dead! Oh, they’ve burned her alive! Oh, they’ve killed them all! All dead! Oh, all dead, dead, dead!”
“There’s just the one man … no, a girl---oh, dear spirits… they’ve cut her head off.”
Jana held Ianthe tight, trembling.
“Jana?”
There was no reply. The big girl was racked with bitter, bitter grief. Ianthe slipped her arms round her, and held her tenderly.
The fire blazed for hours, despite the damp. Ianthe lost track of the time and the events. She just held Jana, blessing her for her size, and the heat she radiated. As the grey of dawn lit the sky, there was only a square of ashes, and a sad, beheaded body of a girl, cast away like a broken doll.
When Jana pulled herself together, the sun was well up.
“You’re safe,” whispered Jana, like a prayer.
“But Andromache…”
“Yes!” sobbed Jana.
“Where are these Horse-People?”
“I don’t know…”
“Where shall we go? What shall we do?”
Jana shook her head and curled into a ball. The thought that it was she who had devised this ill-advised plan occupied her whole mind. There was room for only very little else: Andromache was dead.
But Ianthe was safe.
“Jana, … the Duke thinks mother and I are dead.” Jana rocked back and forth. “He’ll go into the Palace and claim the throne!” No response. “Jana, if we don’t do something, Mother and Stefan will think you and I are dead!”
Jana’s mind had fled. Ianthe knew that Jana and Andromache had been close, but not so close as to unhinge the big girl.
They had to face facts. It was a complicated plan, and it had gone wrong in a complicated way, and things were a mess. If it was generally believed that the Queen was dead, if Stefan didn’t show up in time, the Duke would claim the throne. The stupid villagers were even now sending word to the City that Queen Ione had been burned alive.
And where was the Captain’s Guards? Only Andromache had arrived to give warning! And where were the Horse-People?
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