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ARABESQUE RILL
By
P.J. SHAY
A Renaissance E Books publication
ISBN 1-58873-589-3
All rights reserved
Copyright © 2005 P. J. Shay
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission.
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A Heartswept Romance
CHAPTER ONE
Poena wasn't certain if there were rules of decorum an Aristoi lady was to
uphold during a castle raid, but she did know that the possibility of capture or
death during this riotous invasion was pushing her into a foul mood. Her temper
slipped further toward fury with each crash of steel against stone.
She had no patience for such annoying distractions.
"Eva, there's no time for you to glance about. Rush now, beloved. We've got to
find some manner of sanctuary before this alcazar tumbles down upon our
heads!” Another thunderous crash resounded through the halls of Niord, and
Poena urged her twin sister forward with careful urgency.
Evangeline hurried as her sister commanded. In times like these, Poena always
seemed to know what was best. Still, the horrific sounds echoing through their
father's home made Eva grow more and more concerned for the men down
below. “Poe, it sounds like some of them may be injuring themselves. Can't we
make them stop?"
Biting back her reply, Poena simply ignored the question. As much as Eva's
innocence might be vexing, Poena was loathe to tread upon her fraternal twin's
soft feelings.
"Shouldn't we at least be looking for Father?” Eva wailed as Poena stepped into
an upstairs chamber and yanked her sister along.
"No,” Poena snapped, her tone angrier than she'd intended. She was sure their
father had already fled the large alcazar and was on his cowardly way to safety
at that very moment. Softening her tone to smooth her harsh reply, Poena
instructed, “Rest here a moment, dearest heart."
Once she was certain her sister was resting, Poena bolted the door and hastened
toward the window of the large room. It was a trove chamber, where some of the
alcazar's valuables lay neatly stacked in various chests, bottles, and packaged
bundles. Since this room was located in the highest level of the main structure,
and toward the eastward side, Poena gambled that its small, barred window
would provide a good vantage point from which to view the attack.
Her logical mind had served her well, but the sight below gave her no
satisfaction. Just as she had feared, the invaders were making preparations to set
satisfaction. Just as she had feared, the invaders were making preparations to set
the castle and all its outbuildings ablaze. Narrowing her anxious aquamarine
eyes, Poena searched desperately for some means of escape. It didn't appear
promising. Muttering a curse, the young girl sagged against the wall, rubbed her
temples and tried to think. Her sense of duty struggled against the growing
concern of her troubled heart. She had to find a way to get Eva to safety.
In truth, protecting her twin had always been Poena's first instinct. Although
Evangeline LaTrovin had come into the world a full twenty minutes before
Poena herself, it was Poena who had inherited the guardian spirit between them.
For as long as either could remember, Eva had been a delicate, gentle-natured
innocent, while Poena had been a defiant creature given such labels as “hellion”
to by their childhood nannies. It had been Poena's untamable temper that had
caused their father, Baron Mortimer LaTrovin, to have the girls sent to a cloister
at the age of seven. There they had remained until their twenty-first birthdays
and the time for their arranged marriages. They had been torn from their
peaceful convent and dragged to their father's now-besieged castle barely a
month ago, and Poena wished with all her heart that she and her sister were still
tucked safely within the cloister they had called home for fourteen years.
Whoever their father's enemies were, these attackers were ready to decimate the
castle. It was clear from the destruction below that the antiquated LaTrovin
alcazar, dubbed Niord, would not stand for much longer.
Poena could not claim to be sorry to see the building go. After all, she'd only
lived in the alcazar for a few brief years of her childhood, and had returned as an
adult for barely a full moon. Still, she did know for certain she'd rather not been
in the blasted thing when it fell to the ground!
A seed of germinating fury began to grow in Poena's belly. Their father had fled
for his own safety and left his daughters behind. The Baron had unquestionably
received word of the impending attack; the army outside was too vast in number
to have gone unnoticed. In the quiet of early morning, and no doubt under
considerable guard, the dastard had fled, leaving Poena alone to devise a way out
of this mess.
Tapping her fingertips against her temples, Poena hissed in frustration. The
hoodlums were flanking Niord from all directions. Even if she could sneak Eva
down to the ground floor unnoticed, they would have no clear path of escape.
"Poe, I think I hear someone outside,” Eva whispered, eyeing the door to the
"Poe, I think I hear someone outside,” Eva whispered, eyeing the door to the
room with open misgiving.
"I bolted it, sweet,” Poena assured her worried sister. “Do let me think a moment
in silence, beloved."
There were small consolations. If there was to be fighting, Poena was grateful
that she'd refused to remove her sword from her side, and that she'd decided to
tie her hair up that morning. Had she relented to her father's doctrines of Aristoi
propriety, she'd be weaponless, and the rowdy noise emanating from the other
side of the door told her she might have to fight her way out. Other trove rooms
were being ransacked, and it wouldn't be long before the room they were in
suffered the same fate. Pulling her sword out of its sheath, Poena renewed her
search for an escape route and scanned the chamber from ceiling to floor. The
treasure room might be as good a place to make a stand as any, but it had no
secondary means of exit. That had been a careless oversight on her part, but all
she'd wanted to do was get a good look outside; she hadn't expected their
attackers would make it up the tower so quickly. Weren't any of the vassals
down below putting up a fight?
All too soon, a vicious pounding began at the door, followed by a shouted order
to surrender. Setting her jaw, Poena studied the entryway and tried to judge how
it would hold against the attack that would most certainly follow.
It took one solid charge, and no more.
Before a clear plan of action could even begin to take root in Poena's head, the
door came crashing inwards, and a great, blonde bear of a man thrust himself
inside, surveying their chamber with first bloodthirsty fervor, and then guarded
surprise. He had his scimitar at the ready, and his cat-like stance left no doubt
that he was poised for battle. His size and obvious training made Poena inwardly
groan. Why couldn't she have started out trying to best a little one? Fighting this
barbarian was bound to drain half the energy from her before the battle had truly
begun.
Preparing herself for his first, lunging attack, Poena assumed a defensive posture
and brandished her sword. Eva gave a timid little yelp, and hurried to take cover
behind her twin. Poena stepped resolutely forward, shielding Eva effectively,
and addressed their aggressor with firm authority. “Leave us, or I shall be forced
to kill you, Sir."
The intruding brute did not answer. He merely frowned and blinked twice, as if
to assure himself that his eyes were not playing tricks, and then checked again to
be certain no one else occupied the room. His stern face twitched slightly, and if
Poena hadn't been so focused on trying to find a weakness in the man, she might
have noticed the brief smile that crossed his green eyes.
"Alaric. We have some resistance in one of the upper treasuries,” the hulking
warrior called over his shoulder, and when a second man stepped into the room,
any hope for winning a physical battle abandoned Poena entirely. The first
opponent had been a worthy adversary, but she had fostered a few moments of
optimism when she noticed the way he'd favored his left leg.
This new intruder, clearly of higher rank than the first, was immense—a solid
wall of strength and impassive fortitude. At her best, she'd never be able to
defeat them both. Through the fear and frustration that accompanied her
realization, Poena was also aware of a traitorous admiration prickling within her
breast. She had never seen such men before. These were warriors—raw, defiant,
and fierce. The dark-haired one especially drew her approval. His posture was
regal, almost imperially arrogant, yet his looming figure bore the bulging
musculature that could only be wrought from years of hard training and scars
which could only have been earned from scores of battles fought.
They were, Poena now realized, Clansmen. While she couldn't discern which
Clan they belonged to from the trossen they wore upon their breasts, their
brightly colored cassocks declared their heritage. They were not part of Niobrean
Aristoi, nor were they renegades from the savage Inconnu race, which was
renowned for acts of viciousness and cruelty. Their crest depicted a tower beside
a river with a great sword driven into the shore. It was simple, but bold, and
Poena couldn't help but think that she'd seen that particular trossen in one of her
books before.
This was a spot of good fortune. According to her readings, Clansmen were
reputed to be honorable and did not attack without cause. Poena mused that their
father had probably done something to incite such lethal retaliation. Perhaps if
these men were made to understand that she and Eva did not support their
father's actions, they would be allowed to go free. Clansmen meant there was
cause for hope, for had they been Inconnu beasts, Poena wouldn't have been able
to negotiate. The Inconnu took no prisoners.
"Who are you?” the new foe demanded gruffly, his throaty roar in itself an
"Who are you?” the new foe demanded gruffly, his throaty roar in itself an
intimidating force. He had sharp onyx eyes and velvety black hair that hung
down below his shoulders. Her sense of dread doubled, but Poena's resolve never
faltered. She'd defend Eva unto death if need be; nothing else, not even this
brute's intimidating bark mattered.
"We are Poena and Evangeline LaTrovin, daughters to Baron Mortimer
LaTrovin and the late Baroness Gizella JaBez LaTrovin,” Poena answered in as
formal a tone as she could muster. “You are trespassing in our home, Clansman.
As I told your comrade, leave us, or I shall be forced to kill you."
The giant of a man was not moved. Other than a slight expression of disbelief,
he made neither motion nor sound.
"Poe?” It was Evangeline's melodic voice that finally interrupted the strange lull.
“Killing is a sin. Tell him to leave or you shall be forced to wound him,” her
tone was the maternal inclination of a teacher reminding a forgetful student.
Poena ground her clenched teeth. Was the blond-headed one daring to smile at
her? “If I wound them, they may well die of infection anyway. ‘Tis better if I kill
them quickly and not allow them to suffer. Now, do stay out of it, dearest,”
Poena didn't want to lose her temper with her gentle sister, but she did have more
important things on her mind just now than future penance.
"If you'd only just wound them, I could minister to them afterward and save you
from the sin, good sister. Do, at least, consider it,” Evangeline pleaded softly.
Before Poena could reply, the bemused, blond warrior addressed her. “Where is
your father, Lady Poena LaTrovin?"
Poena's spine stiffened. Now she'd have to confess the cowardice of her father
for these fighting men to hear. How it goaded her.
It would have amused the Clansmen further to know that the simplest way out of
such a position never occurred to Poena. It did not so much as cross her thoughts
to lie as she gave them the truth. Lying was, as Eva would have quickly
reminded, a sin. “Our father is safely away. I heard him tell the manager of the
household early this morn that he had business to attend at one of our
neighboring alcazars. I hadn't realized he was fleeing from impending attack, or I
should have taken my sister and myself safely away as well before your arrival."
The towering warriors balked at her answer. The leader's black eyes narrowed in
The towering warriors balked at her answer. The leader's black eyes narrowed in
disbelief. “You mean to tell me he left his daughters behind? Come now, Lady
LaTrovin."
"Our father is gone!” Poena shouted hotly. “And I say again, leave us before I
am forced to do you harm, Sir."
The faces of both Clansmen frowned in open skepticism, but neither stooped to
openly calling her a liar.
"Poe, you have not given them the option to surrender yet!” Evangeline suddenly
remembered, her tone patient and sweet. “Perhaps you may not even have cause
to wound them."
"I hate to disappoint you, Milady, but neither I nor my Don, will be surrendering
to you this day. You will put down your sword and surrender yourself to our
custody. The alcazar will be reduced to cinders before we are done with it. This
is no place for you or your sister."
The calm statement forced a gasp from Evangeline's lips. “But you cannot mean
to set fire to our father's home, Sir?"
The blond warrior now stepped forward, and Poena tilted her sword toward him.
When he spoke, it was with a more patient tone than his comrade's. “Ladies, this
castle is defeated. There are hundreds of our troops inside, and hundreds more
waiting at the gates. You must yield."
Voices rang in from behind the two Clansmen, and Poena's methodical mind
insisted there was no option but to surrender and hope for mercy. Still, there
were details to settle. Her options were limited, but she was not yet willing to
give in before making a few truths painfully clear to their captors. “We will yield
under certain conditions."
"Oh, a negotiation,” the hulking one with raven's hair sighed impatiently. “I
admire an adversary who proposes negotiation in the face of utter defeat, don't
you, Rook?” The blonde man offered no response to his leader's sarcasm, save
for a controlled grin, so the dark one returned his severe gaze upon Poena, and
asked tersely, “What are your terms, Lady LaTrovin?"
"You will not soil my sister's honor."
"Poena, how very dear of you,” Evangeline's bubbling praise was drowned out
by another harsh question from the black-eyed Clansman.
"And what of your honor?” he sounded angry, but Poena couldn't be certain. The
man was so fierce looking that he might be smiling straight at her and she'd have
no way to judge.
"I am not as concerned with my honor, Sir. I can defend it myself if need be. My
sister is a more gentle creature."
"Your sister's honor is safe, you have my word. Not that it matters, apparently,
but yours is safe as well. Now lower your sword,” the militant giant bellowed.
At this declaration, the yellow-haired warrior made a noted effort to hide his
mounting amusement. It wasn't working.
Eva's airy voice began a wailing plea. “Oh, Poena. We can't possibly leave
without my trunk and mother's things. If they're to burn the castle..."
"My sister's trunk is to be brought with her as well. And we shall be allowed to
gather our mother's things. And, at no time while we are in your custody are she
and I to be separated,” Poena reflected a moment, scanning her mind to see if
there was any other demand she wished to make while she was still in a position
to make demands. Nothing else stirred within her calm, logical thoughts. She
didn't want to push her luck.
"Is that all, Lady LaTrovin?” The leader's tone was icy and acerbic, but Poena
didn't care about that. Let him be as superior as he liked. So long as he gave his
word.
"That is all for now,” she nodded curtly.
"All of those things can be easily accommodated,” the blonde man agreed
hastily. He seemed to realize that his commander's temper was at a limit. “Come
now, we must get the two of you out of..."
"I'm sorry, Clansman, but unless I am mistaken, you are not in charge here,”
Poena interrupted firmly. “By the manner of this beast on your right, I would say
he holds superior rank. It is his word I seek."
Both men blinked again in disbelief. Green-eyes lost his grin. Poena hid the
meager satisfaction she felt over that small victory.
