“What’s wrong with you tonight? I thought you liked these boring banquets.” Lavi sounded impatient as she waited for Dani to catch up. They were walking together to the banquet hall, a grand room which looked even bigger than it was due to the mirrored walls and the high ceilings hung with blazing clusters of light spheres.
“I do,” Dani protested, making an effort to speed her steps. She had always found state banquets and the politics behind them interesting. But that was in the past, whispered a little voice in her brain. Before you knew father would never change his mind…never try to change the rules and customs just for you.
Her talk with her father that morning by the throne room had made her aware of something she had been previously hiding from herself. All her life she’d secretly believed that when she was old enough, her father would somehow alter the sacred customs of her people to allow her to rule after him. He had always valued her intellect and listened to her opinions, weighing her words as carefully as if she had been a male. And how often had she heard him say that if only she was a son she would make a fine Monarch herself?
Dani had mistaken his words for respect. Now she saw he had only been humoring her, as a male will humor a favorite child or a beloved pet. There was no doubt she would make an excellent ruler of the Goshan lands after he was gone…and there was also no doubt she would never sit on the gold and glass throne.
When all was said and done, her intellect and her political acumen counted for nothing against the fact that she was a female—an inferior to the males around her because she’d had the bad fortune to be born one of the inferior sex.
That was never going to change and now that Dani’s eyes were opened to the fact, she felt as though all the energy and interest had drained out of her. In the past she would have been the first to the banquet, eager to see that everyone was placed properly. The seating chart of such an event could be perilous—one didn’t want to put two political enemies side by side for a meal which could last twenty courses and four solar hours. She had often gone over such charts with her father to be certain the right people were sitting together.
But again, that was in the past. Now she had no idea who was sitting by who and in fact, she didn’t care. Couldn’t make herself care. She didn’t even know who had made the chart this time—probably her father had delegated it to one of his councilors since he had suddenly decided she could no longer be allowed to have a hand in such things…
“Come on,” Lavi said again impatiently. “If we’re late I’ll have to sit by that awful Warro again when you know I belong by Jontu!”
“Warro the ruler of the Thuggors?” Dani frowned, perking up a little bit. “How did you end up sitting by him?”
“I don’t know.” Lavi shrugged. “Anyway, it was awful. He kept staring at me all night with those strange greenish-gray eyes of his—like a poison-fang’s hide, you know? It gave me the creeps!” She shivered, the slit sleeves of her pale pink gown showing her creamy brown skin beneath.
“You shouldn’t be dressed so provocatively,” Dani said, frowning at the way her little sister’s arms were visible through the sleeves of her gown. “It might give the wrong impression, Lavi.”
She herself was wearing a perfectly modest gown of deep green sheer fabric which buttoned at her throat and fell in a long sweep down to her ankles. The sleeves were flowing too but an under-sleeve beneath them came to her wrists and covered her skin completely so that only her hands and face were visible. Of course, her body could be seen clearly through the material of her dress, but that was right and proper for a Goshan woman of high birth. Only commoners wore coarse fabric which was too thick to see through.
“Jontu doesn’t think so.” Lavi grinned mischievously, causing Dani to shake her head and sigh. Her little sister had a one-track mind when it came to males, although to be honest, she’d never seen Lavi infatuated with any one male for so long. She’d been talking about Jontu for days now—this must be some kind of a record.
They reached the doorway of the grand banquet hall and halted so that the crier could announce them.
“Their royal highnesses, Dannella Tagenia Yorva and Lavinia Herassa Yorva of Goshahl Prime, Princesses of the Blood Royal and Everlasting, daughters to Monarch Yorva the Fifth, He who shall live forever,” he shouted over the hum of conversation.
There was a break in the constant flow of talk and Dani felt that all eyes were on herself and her sister. The long banquet table was set to seat only fifty tonight though it could hold up to three hundred at a time.
But though there were fewer guests than on some occasions, many more of them were strangers that Dani had never seen before. She recognized the Thuggors by their ceremonial garb—thick green and orange ydll tree leaves sewn into colorful robes as well as bright tropical flowers they wore in their hair and woven into their headdresses.
The biggest and brightest headdress belonged to the Chieftain of the Thuggors—Warro himself. He was also known as “Warro the Bloody” and “Warro the Merciless” by his own people, due to the fact that he didn’t take prisoners in battle but only lined captives up and had them summarily executed.
Dani had heard that he performed the executions himself. Seeing the huge butcher’s blade in its elaborate golden scabbard by his side, she could well believe it.
He had a stern face with narrow eyes of a strange greenish-brownish-grayish hue. Lavi had complained their color looked like the hide of the slithering, deadly poison-fang but the peculiar shade reminded Dani of the hue of a rotten janja melon when you split it open and smelled its reek. He looked to be about ten years younger than her father, which made him a male of middle years. But his powerfully muscled arms and chest attested that he was not allowing his body to get weak as he aged.
He stared at her and Lavi—mostly Lavi—in an intense, intent way that made Dani shift uncomfortably. Once again she wished her little sister hadn’t worn such a provocative gown and Lavi seemed to be feeling the same because she crossed her arms, hiding the most prominent gaps in her sleeves with her hands as best she could.
Most of the guests were already seated and there were only two open chairs left. To Dani’s dismay, one of the seats was by Warro, the Chieftain of the Thuggors and the other was beside Councilor Tornk.
“Ugh—I told you we would be late if you didn’t hurry. Now look,” Lavi muttered, disappointment written clearly on her face. “The places on either side of Jontu's seat are already filled and the only seats left are by creepy Warro and awful old Councilor Bray-bray!”
“I’m sorry,” Dani whispered back. “But keep your voice down—you don’t want to give offense.” Her eyes flickered to Warro again, who was staring steadily at her little sister, his rotten-fruit eyes scanning up and down her lithe young body.
Dani frowned. What was wrong with him? Did he not know it was rude to stare too long at a female? Or did he just not care?
“Come on,” she whispered to Lavi. “You take the seat by Tornk and I’ll sit by Warro.”
“Agreed,” Lavi whispered back. “It’s at least somewhat closer to Jontu.”
But when they got to their places, Dani was dismayed to note that whoever had made the seating chart had also gone to the trouble of putting elaborately lettered name cards at the various places. Her own seat was by Tornk’s and Lavi’s was right beside Warro.
The sisters exchanged glances of despair but not even Lavi was brash enough to suggest they switch—that would have been seen as a great insult to the visiting dignitary and the Head Councilor alike.
There was nothing to do but be seated. With a sigh, Dani lowered herself into the black brocade cushion and sat down as gracefully as she could to the long table.
“Well, hello dear Princess.” The hateful, familiar voice was Councilor Tornk. He leaned towards her, letting his gaze travel over Dani’s breasts and thighs as brazenly as Warro had stared at Lavi. “My, you’re looking lovely, tonight,” he remarked.
“I thank you for your compliment,” Dani said formally, leaning away from him as pointedly as possible. His breath reeked of crannik, the strong, alcoholic drink made from the fermented berries of the crannan plant. It repelled her.
But then, everything about Councilor Tornk repelled her.
Before he could say anything else to her, Dani turned to the person on her left, meaning to strike up a conversation and hopefully avoid speaking to Tornk all night.
The girl beside her was perhaps a few years older than Dani herself and dressed in the traditional Thuggor garb of green and orange leaves stitched artfully together. Her elaborate headdress, which hid the left side of her face, identified her as a person of some importance.
“Hello,” Dani said, giving her a friendly smile. “I’m Dannella. May I know your name, esteemed visitor?”
“Ahnai.” The girl’s voice was so soft at first Dani could barely hear her. Still, she was desperate to avoid talking to Tornk so she tried again.
“That’s a beautiful name,” she said warmly. “Are you a princess of the Thuggors?”
“I, a princess? Oh no, your majesty.” The girl dipped her head in respect to Dani. “No, I am nothing but a seventh wife to Chieftain Warro, may he live forever.”
“A seventh wife, did you say?” Dani asked, wondering if she had misunderstood. Sometimes among her own people a male might take two wives at once—but only if the two were sisters who didn’t wish to be parted. Such was the case with her own mother and Lavi’s—they had been sisters which made Lavi her cousin as well as her half-sister. Dani had never heard of a male taking more than that, though. “Seven did you say again?” she asked. “Do you have six royal sisters then?”
“Oh, no.” The girl gave a sad little laugh, the vivid pink and yellow blossoms in her headdress fluttering. “I have no sisters and I am not royal. I am nothing but a commoner. I was, however, once considered the most beautiful girl in my village—that is how Chieftain Warro came to hear of me. May he live forever,” she added dully as an afterthought, but Dani didn’t think she sounded like she meant it very much.
“So…he heard of your beauty and came to claim you as a bride?” Dani asked doubtfully. “That’s rather romantic, I suppose.”
“It might be if he didn’t do it in every village of our country,” Ahnai answered. “That is how he finds all his new wives. My Lord will have nothing but the best and most beautiful in his palace, he always says.”
“All his wives?” Dani’s eyes widened. “Does he have more than seven?”
“At the moment I believe my Lord has fifty or sixty wives,” Ahnai said, as though the matter was of little importance. “It is hard to keep track—he brings in new ones as the old ones die.”
“What? As they die?” Dani could scarcely believe what she was hearing—this just got worse and worse! “I don’t…” She cleared her throat. “Don’t suppose they are, uh, dying of old age?” she said at last. “Maybe some plague or a fever—”
“No female in the Royal Harem dies of old age or illness,” Ahnai said flatly. “Death comes when my Lord Chieftain Warro is displeased.” She lowered her voice. “And he is often displeased.”
“That’s terrible!” Dani exclaimed and then, seeing the frightened way the girl’s eyes darted to Warro, who was about ten seats up on the other side of the table she lowered her voice. “So he just…kills his wives when they displease him?” she asked much more softly.
“Sometimes. Sometimes he only punishes. I was one of the lucky ones.” The girl turned to face Dani more fully. Reaching up, she pulled the flowers of her headdress away from the left side of her face.
Dani bit back a gasp. A ragged white scar bisected the left side of the girl’s lovely face, a twisted slash on her warm brown skin that looked like the work of a knife blade. The scar ran right through her left eyebrow and eye, which was a dead, unseeing gray unlike the warm amber-brown of her right eye.
“He did that to you?” she whispered, horror filling her words. She had heard of harsh punishments before—bruises that didn’t heal for days and whippings so severe the recipient of them couldn’t sit down for a solar week. But never had she witnessed brutality like this.
“I was one of the lucky ones,” Ahnai repeated, letting the flowers fall back into place to cover the scar. “He let me live as a warning to the other wives—and because he said my body was still lush and agreeable. But if I do not bear a child soon…” She shrugged, her shoulders drooping limply. “Well, the punishment for barrenness is death.”
“You poor thing!” Dani wanted to take her hand and tell her she would help her get away from the awful male sitting across the table. But where could she hide Ahnai? What would she do with her? How long could such a secret be kept? Surely Warro wouldn’t leave the palace minus one of his wives?
“I am well,” Ahnai spoke in a dull, dead tone that made Dani feel like her stomach was full of ice. “I am a wife to the Chieftain. What more could any female want?”
To be treated like a person—an equal—with rights to her own life and body, Dani thought but didn’t say. After all, though the Thuggor standards were clearly much harsher than those of her own people, they still believed basically the same thing—that females were inferior to males, fit only to be subjugated to a male’s whim.
“I said, would you like some of the first course. The tannis tongue is especially good tonight.” Councilor Tornk’s nasally voice broke into her thoughts and she realized he had asked her the same question twice already. But the platter he offered—a quivering gelatinous mountain three feet tall and filled with the tiny forked tongues of the tannis lizard—did nothing to rouse her appetite.
“Thank you, no,” she said shortly.
“You should have some, my dear princess,” Tornk said, leering at her. “They’re supposed to be quite good for enhancing the sensitivity of your female parts—your nipples especially.”
“What did you say to me?” Dani demanded, glaring at him. How dare he speak in such familiar and disgusting terms to her? Tornk might be a male but he had no royal blood in his veins and she was still a princess.
She gave him her haughtiest look but Tornk refused to back down.
“I said you ought to have some—your future husband will thank you for it,” he remarked, now openly leering at her breasts. “Whoever that lucky male might be.”
“I have no wish for a husband, Councilor,” Dani snapped. “As you well know.”
“Yes but a female’s wishes cannot take precedence over a male’s needs,” he sneered. “You and your sister both have been allowed to go unmarried for far too long. It’s time we saw both of you with proper husbands who can control and discipline you. Lavinia is almost as wild as you are, dear princess.”
At the mention of her sister, Dani’s eyes turned to Lavi who was sitting as still as a stone beside Warro. In addition to being heavily muscled, Warro was also one of the tallest males in his tribe. He was nothing next to Kyron in height but he was a head taller than any other male Dani had ever seen.
Next to the massive warrior, Lavi looked tiny and fragile. She was picking delicately at her jellied tongue, trying hard not to notice the way Warro’s rotten melon eyes were glued to her breasts as she ate.
The sight bothered Dani more than she could say—more even than Tornk’s drunken leering and insults and the awful scar the girl Ahnai wore. If she didn’t know better, she might almost think that Tornk was hinting that Lavi would be married to the horrible Warro.
But surely not—Dani was quite certain her father would never allow such a thing. He would never even consider it, no matter how many mineral rights or political influence it would bring him.
I can’t stand this. The thought bubbled up from inside her along with a sick feeling that made her want to retch. I can’t stand this—I have to get out of here right now—this minute!
Abruptly, she rose from the table, her chair scraping back loudly just as the serving women were bringing in the next course.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Tornk hissed. He grabbed Dani’s wrist, yanking to try and bring her back to her chair. “It’s barely the second course, you cannot leave now!” he exclaimed under his breath.
“Let me go! How dare you touch me!” Dani twisted free of his grasp and pulled away before he could grab her again.
“I’ll do more than just touch you in the near future, princess.” Tornk’s blue face was suffused with blood, turning it an angry purple. “You’ll pay for your years of insolence soon.”
Dani didn’t know what he was talking about and she didn’t want to know. She opened her mouth to tell the nasty councilor off when she became suddenly aware that the entire banquet hall had fallen silent and every eye in the room was on her—including her father’s eyes. He was looking at her with a slight frown on his face from the far head of the table.
“Forgive me, father,” Dani said, raising her voice to be heard. “I find myself…unwell tonight. I must retire to my chambers.”
At first she thought he would forbid her but after a pause he simply nodded his head once—a gesture of permission.
“Thank you.” Ignoring the angry glare Councilor Tornk was giving her and the dead stare of poor Ahnai, she walked as quickly as she could around the long table to the exit of the banquet hall.
There was only one person she wanted to talk to right now—Kyron of the Kindred. She wanted to speak to someone from a culture where women were not considered second-class citizens or objects to be claimed, or animals to be whipped and punished and brutalized on a whim.
Going through the large double doors of the banquet hall, she doubled back around and stopped by the Royal kitchens to grab some cold bread and meat rolls and a flask of the light, fruity dobrian wine Goshan wineries were famous for. Ky would be hungry and thirsty if the guards were still starving him.
She wanted to be prepared for a long talk. The feast was barely beginning which meant they would have at least three hours before she had to sneak out of his cell and go back to her own room.
She just hoped she found him in better shape than she had last time.