Freeing the Prisoner_A Kindred Tales Novel Read online

  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