A young man in a brown cloak with the hood pulled up and over his scraggly brown hair scurried through the castle gates, trying to slip out unnoticed. The guards paid no heed to the cloaked youth, not caring about those leaving the castle grounds. They were also too busy chatting about the drink they’d have or the women they’d bed once their shift ended. The youth sought cover among several servants leaving as well. They hoped to make one last run to town before all the shops closed and return with the wares required by their masters before the sun set. None of the servants paid any attention to the cloaked boy either. He avoided extensive scrutiny by ducking behind the servants’ horses and carts by pretending to attend the beasts.

As the group approached a grove of trees two hundred paces outside the gates, the boy lagged near the rear. Ensuring none of the party observed him, the cloaked youth leaped off the road into the cover of the forest. He crouched behind an oak to see if any had seen him.

None had.

None except for Skamsen. He stood on the parapet of the castle watching the party head to the town. He’d had his eye on the shifty-eyed youth all afternoon. When the boy had jumped into the trees for cover, it confirmed his suspicions. Skamsen had been waiting weeks in anticipation of this moment. It was the reason he’d taken employment as a castle guard, a position he was extremely over-qualified for. A few twirls of his sword and a few good-natured jousting matches later, the lord of the manor gave him free reign of the castle. In addition, Skamsen possessed a greater zeal for security than the other guards whose zealousness and loyalty to the lord remained tied inextricably to the gold given to them.

After losing sight of the boy as he scampered into the forest – no doubt scurrying to give a report to his benefactor – Skamsen turned his attention to the castle sentries whose task it was to protect the castle…if it could be called a castle. Too small to be considered a palace, too large to be an estate mansion, this illusion of a fortress sat on a hill overlooking the harbor town of Jahaja to the east and the mercantile village of Sadhane to the south. Its walls served only to keep out thieves and beggars. The thin stone façade would never repel an invading army. Or men like the assassin waiting in the shadows somewhere outside the walls, biding his time for the perfect opportunity.

Before the evening fell, Skamsen sent out a servant of his own to alert a small band of men also sitting idly in expectation of this evening. He made ready a horse and cart and prepared himself to meet the Lady.

Taking a route from the stables toward the second floor where she dwelt, Skamsen strolled through the corridors, casually dowsing any candles along the way. If anyone wandered the corridors once the sun went down, they were ordered to carry a lamp. Despite the wealth of the lord, he didn’t appreciate the wasting of wax.

The sun now well below the horizon, Skamsen eased open the door to the Lady’s chambers. Servants often came and went during the night to refill the braziers or empty chamber pots. A door creak in the middle of the night wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary. Still, Skamsen had oiled the door hinges weekly to aid his stealth into her room when the time came.

He closed the door noiselessly and paused, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness of her room. A few rays of the half moon rising made their way through the balcony window to fall on the white linen curtains surrounding her bed.

His eyes now adjusted, the silvery light made the interior of the Lady’s chambers appear as daylight. With the stealth of a Vaegha leopard, he crept across the wooden floor, taking care to avoid tripping on the rugs strewn across it. He made his way toward the balcony side of the bed where she lay and knelt beside her sleeping form lying in repose. He parted the sheer curtains and passed a moment to study her features, trying to ascertain if she slept. The moonlight gave her golden hair a silvery sheen, her cheeks a porcelain glow. Keeping his own breathing shallow, he reached to cup her mouth.

She spoke her voice nothing but a soft whisper. “Is it time to leave, master Jadu, or have you come to make love to me?”

He froze, his hand hovering above her face. Though a master in the art of stealth and surprise, it took all his training and self-control to remain still. As it was, he couldn’t keep from reacting at all. He sucked in his breath and held it until he regained control. He pulled his hand back to his side.

“Yes,” he said, then realized what he might possibly be saying yes to. “I mean, no. Actually…”

“Is everything alright?” she said, her voice devoid of alarm or worry. She opened her eyes to face him, the moonlight glinting off the moisture within them as she appraised, searching his face that remained in shadow.

“No, my lady,” said Skamsen, “all is not well.”

“I didn’t startle you, did I?” she said.

“A little. I thought you were asleep.”

“Can you not tell when a woman is sleeping, master Jadu?”

“It has been years since I’ve shared a bed with a woman, my lady. And even then, I could never tell.”

“Years?” The lady raised an eyebrow and shifted to lay on her side and fully face him, propping her head up on her hand. Her wavy blonde hair cascaded over her hand down to the elbow planted in her pillow, releasing a very pleasing aroma, one similar to lavender. “Years, master Jadu. That’s rather distressing. So you’ve come to my bedchamber this evening to end the drought.”

She ran her free hand down her side until it reached her bedfellow’s arm draped lazily across her hips. She lifted the man’s arm and pushed it behind her. He grunted and rolled onto his other side, pulling the satin sheet with him. The edge of it came dangerously close to laying bare the lady.

Skamsen kept his eyes on hers. “No, my lady, I am not here for that.”

“Are you sure?” she said, a bit of remorse in her voice. “Why not? Do you not find me attractive?”

Having only been in one serious relationship his whole life – and for almost the whole of his life – he was at a loss at how to respond to the lady playing a word game with him. He tried skipping the line of questioning.

“We don’t have much time, my lady.”

“You, master Jadu, did not answer my question. If you ignore it, I shall throw off these linens and cry out for the guards.”

“I am one of the guards.”

“You most certainly are not one of them. That much I can tell. Now…” Her delicate fingers closed around the edge of the sheet and stood at the ready, like a swordsman waiting to draw on his enemies. Skamsen gave in. He couldn’t do what most others in his place would do and take her against her will. He’d need her trust and cooperation later.

“My lady, you are the most beautiful woman in the keep, possibly the land.”

She laughed and fell back onto the pillow, both hands clutching the sheet to her chest. “You, master Jadu, are a horrible liar.”

“You asked for my opinion. I gave it.”

“You think I’m beautiful? Is that why you’ve had eyes for me ever since your arrival?”

He cursed inwardly at having been discovered so easily. “I’ve only kept an eye on you due to my duties to protect you.”

“Very well, you can play that game. Don’t think I will. I like games that involve two people in bed together. Would you like to play with me?”

“No.”

“Then tell me, master Jadu, why have you been watching me? A woman knows when a man is watching her. The lord of this manor did not employ you to watch over me. I am not his wife or relation – not by blood anyway. There is no need to watch me. I’ve no value. Besides, you do not have the manor of a guard nor the simple training, demeanor or brains of one.”

“I have the eyes of a man. Is it not possible that the reason I’ve had eyes on you is due to your beauty?” The moment the words left his mouth, he heard the lack of conviction in them. He wouldn’t have believed himself either.

She laughed gayly. “Not possible. Not in the least.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” she said, facing him again, though, this time she lay on her stomach with her elbows and fists pressed together beneath her breasts, a bit of her sheet in her fingers to cushion her chin. “For you to say that, you must be blind or a bad judge of beauty. The lord’s wife, who is the legitimate lady of this castle, is ten years younger than I. Because he is exorbitantly wealthy, he had his choice of brides. My husband’s sister beat out all the others due to her beauty…and sizable dowry. My husband didn’t pay the dowry – as is customary – since he paid none for me. Instead, the lord here paid for her hand. That’s how beautiful she is. Her beauty seemed only to grow with the birthing of two children, a burden I haven’t been blessed with as of yet. Together, the lord and his lady employ only the most beautiful maidens as servants, though their beauty is often hidden beneath a layer of dirt, grubby clothes and foul odors. But strip them naked, bathe them with scented water and cover their skins with fragrant oils, and their beauty would outshine mine.”

“My lady, I loved a girl before I ever knew she would grow into a beautiful woman. I know what beauty is, and I know that none of the ladies or maidens here outshine you. Even in the darkness with your face aglow by the light of the moon, your beauty outshines the sun.”

The lady melted into her hands, her lips curling into a smile. “Hmmm,” she said, eyeing him curiously. “I’m not sure I believe you, but neither do I want you to be lying.”

“Why would I lie?”

She chuckled, as if he’d said something naïve. “Master Jadu, there are thousands of reasons a man would lie to a woman about her beauty, and many reasons why a woman lets him. For you, I suppose you are attempting to gain my trust. Flattery won’t do it, though I appreciate the sentiment. Why are you here, my most protective guard? I gather you are about to ask something of me. It would behoove you to be honest with me, don’t you think?”

Skamsen nodded. “You are right. I’m not trying to be evasive. I simply don’t have much time to explain or answer all your questions. I promise you I will, though. Just not here or now.”

“Then when?”

“We must leave tonight. Once we are safe, I will tell you.”

“Safe?” She scoffed at the notion. “I assure you, m  aster Jadu, I am very safe here.”

“No. Your life is in peril.”

Again she laughed with amusement, flopping onto her back. “What on earth gives you to believe that my life is in danger?”

She spoke too loudly, waking her bedfellow.

He sat up and grunted, blinking his eyes to try and focus on the man kneeling near the bed. “Oye,” said the dark-haired youth, his face clean shaven. “Who goes there? Jadis? Jadua? The guard, right? I hope you’re not bothering the missus.”

“Go back to sleep,” said the missus, patting the youth on the cheek.

“I will in a moment. Right now, I’ve got to piss.”

Skamsen’s fist swished through the darkness, colliding with a loud thwack against the jaw of the youth. Without a sound he fell unconscious to the pillows.

The lady’s eyes grew wide, though she seemed amused rather than angry or shocked.

“Master Jadu, why did you have to do that? He’s an innocent boy, someone for me to play around with.”

“An innocent boy for you to play with? Him? The younger brother of the lord of the manor forcing his way into your bed to exercise marriage rights which don’t belong to him is an innocent boy? And yet you claim he’s in your bedchambers for your amusement.” Skamsen shook his head.

She studied Skamsen with narrowed eyes, her expression unreadable, lips curled upward in a bemused grin.

“Do you not believe I could deny him my bed if I so desired?”

Skamsen turned away from her eyes, his own scanning the apartment for any sign of movement or danger, anxious to avoid the peril of the lady’s interrogation. She reached out a finger and touched his jaw, her touch like fire on his skin. With next to no effort she turned his face to hers. “Master Jadu, are you angry with me?”

“Of course not, my lady.”

“With the boy?”

“No. I simply didn’t want him crying out and sounding an alarm.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes,” said Skamsen. He stood, causing her fingers to lose contact with his face. “I believe I spoke out of turn. It is none of my concern the company you keep.”

She sat up, sliding her legs to the side, knees bent behind, sheet pressed tight to her body. With delight in her voice, she said, “Do I detect a bit of judgment in your voice?”

“I am not judging you for lying with a man not your husband. You may do…”

She interrupted him with a quick exhale of shock, her mouth open in mock surprise, a slight smile still present. “You are judging me. This is very intriguing. Why? Do you not find me beautiful any longer? Do I disgust you? Do I not measure up to the standard of your life-long lover? Is that why she left you?”

“Enough,” he said with more venom than he wished. He instantly regretted allowing the lady to roil his emotions.

“My oh my, master Jadu. I believe I have angered you.” She smirked, shaking her head. “How easy that was.”

“My name is not Jadu. I am Skamsen. You have been marked for assassination. And the most dangerous assassin has taken up the Mark and is coming here tonight.”

She sighed, rolling her head about her shoulders, some of her hair falling across her face. With a free hand she pushed the blonde waves away from her cheeks. “The most dangerous assassin? For me? I sincerely doubt that, master Jadu. I don’t pose a threat that expensive, and nor is my value that high. My husband certainly didn’t pay you to protect me. It’s far more likely he’s the one sponsoring this assassin...if there really is one.”

Skamsen looked away.

She noticed him averting his eyes. “My husband is somehow involved, isn’t he?”

“If we leave now, I can explain everything.”

“Very well. But you must make love to me first.”

Skamsen let out a deep breath, shaking his head. He was close…very closing to taking the alternative route to getting her to come with him, the sedative close at hand.

“Look at me, Skamsen,” she said. He complied. She no longer smiled nor had a beguiling expression on her face. “You say someone wealthy wants me dead. There’s a reason I am here, on another continent, while he and his mistresses frolic in my bed at our manor up north. Why should I be lonely? Lay with me tonight. Then let me die. If my husband wants me dead, let him have what he wishes. He’s already given me more than I deserve. Perhaps the one comforting thought is knowing someone cared enough to send you to protect me. Well, you can tell him that I was dead when you found me.”

Skamsen stepped near the bed and grabbed her upper arm, raising her up onto her knees so her eyes drew level with his. “This self-deprecation does not suit you and is very unbecoming of a Lady. I have not been paid to see to your safety. I’m here to use you to draw out Khote Vicanda and need you alive to do so. I understand that it takes a lot of trust to ask you to place your life in my hands. However, in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been asking you very nicely.”

“So have I.” Using her free hand, she touched his leg, tracing a finger up his thigh. He snatched her hand and pulled it away from his body.

“My lady…” he said but stopped speaking. Though she didn’t cry out in pain, she winced, clenching her teeth, drawing air in through her nose. Her reaction was slight, as if she were trying to hide it.

He let go of her hand and arm, raising his hands in supplication. “I’m deeply sorry, my lady. I did not mean to hurt you.” In that moment, he understood he couldn’t hurt her and wouldn’t take her by force. She had to go willingly.

In that moment, she also understood. “Very well. I will do as you ask, master Skamsen. But first, tell me something. Do you think me unchaste, unclean, unworthy?”

“Why is that important to you? I am no one to have an opinion that you should heed.”

“You are my savior and possibly the only man in the world that cares to see that I live, even if it is for reasons of your own.”

“Are you asking if I believe your life is worth saving?”

“I suppose that’s a better way to phrase what I’m asking.”

Skamsen knelt beside the bed again, taking her hand gently in his. He spread wide her fingers and placed her palm on his heart. “What you feel is a heart of malice and blackness beating to the drum of a singular purpose that makes my life worth less than the man I seek to kill. Your life is worth far more than mine and definitely worth saving.”

Slipping her hand from his grasp, she used a finger to lift his chin so she could see his eyes. “If that were true, you would not ask of me anything. You would simply take.”

Before he could throw up a defense against her, she kissed him lightly on the l, her moist lips lingering for an eternal moment on his. His entire body shook. It had been too long since he’d known the love and touch of a woman. It made him weak.

“Thank you,” she said.

He couldn’t respond.

“Is it time to leave?” she said.

“Yes. We must leave immediately.

She nodded and rose from the bed, heading toward the door. The satin sheet dropped to the floor behind her, her naked skin glinting in the moonlight. “Let us leave, then.”

“My lady,” said Skamsen. “You are not wearing clothes.”

“Am I not, my master?”

“I’m not your master.”

“Lord?”

“Neither am I your lord.”

She strolled toward him. He backed up a step.

“Master Skamsen, I am placing my life in your hands, am I not?” He nodded. She continued. “I’m sure you are going to give a speech to me about how I’ll need to do what you say, exactly as you say and when you say, correct?” Another nod from him. She gave him a single dip of her chin. “That makes you the lord of my life...and my master. If you wish me to leave this exact moment, I will listen, even if that means I leave as naked as on the day of my birth.”

“My lady, please clothe yourself.”

“Of course, master Skamsen.”

“Please do not call me master.”

“But…as I just said…”

“Very well, then as your master, my lady, I’m ordering you not to call me master.”

She giggled. “You are too easy. Now, how shall I dress.”

“Choose traveling clothes. Something like riding breaches.”

“Ugh. I will not wear the clothes of a man. I shall wear a dress.”

“So much for doing exactly as I say.”

She laughed again. “Did you really think I would?”

As she dressed, he crept to the balcony window and scanned the outside, looking for shadows. If Vicanda was as good as the name he’d made, he’d never allow any to see his shadow.

“By the way,” said Skamsen, “when I first entered, how did you know it was me?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

She smoothed out the folds of a deep brown dress and stepped close to his back. Standing on the tips of her toes, she rested her chin on the back of his shoulder. Every muscle in his body clenched at her touch. He fought to keep his attention on the shadows outside. Using her fingers, she fluffed her hair, releasing again the alluring aroma.

“Master Skamsen…I mean, kind sir,” said the lady, her breath tickling his ear, “your unique and particular scent gave you away.”

Skamsen grinned. “That’s a nice way of telling me that I stink.”

“Yes. You stink like no other.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Not unlike other men. Simply different.”

“What about that man?” said Skamsen, indicating the youth on the bed.

“He smells more like a woman than I do. Shall we go?”

“Yes. It’s highly likely that due to the nature of our journey ahead, we’ll both be foul smelling near the end.”

“My dear Skamsen,” she said, heading toward the door, hefting a large valise, “us women have our secrets to keep from smelling like a horse’s ass. Don’t you worry.”

Skamsen chuckled and led her out the door into the darkened corridor beyond.