Daughter of the Wolfhead

By Emma Buenen

Daughter of the Wolfhead 

 

Agata, locked up in her uncle's fortress, is safe but bored and restless. Her beloved Iberia lies in the hand of General Kazan, the fierce warlord who once hunted her down. And now, his king is coming to inspect the conquered land. When Agata's loyal warrior, Viyan, scales the sheer wall of the fortress in the dead of night, Agata is bursting for action. Viyan brings news of a rift between Kazan and his king and Agata must consider a new ally - her former enemy, General Kazan.

 

Forced to work with Kazan, Agata realizes that there is more to him than she had thought. He is not just a brutal conqueror, but a man with his own struggles and ambitions. Against all odds, Agata finds herself drawn to Kazan, despite their past animosity and their very different backgrounds.

 

As Agata navigates the complex politics of Iberia and seeks to reclaim her throne, she must also navigate the treacherous waters of her own heart. With danger and betrayal at every turn, can Agata and Kazan find a way to bridge their differences and forge a new path forward together?

 

The pulse-pounding sequel to "Agata, Princess of Iberia" will keep readers on the edge of their seats until the very last page.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emma Buenen
• Release date: Aug 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215438688

Emma Buenen

Emma C Buenen grew up in a lovely home in the Australian bush where her two great loves were horses and reading. She worked and studied abroad while earning a degree in marketing and management and settled in sunny Queensland, Australia. When she's not writing, Emma enjoys exercising and keeping fit with her husband and spending time with her children.

Book preview

Prologue

General Kazan gazed over the wall above Narikala's gates. Beyond the formidable defences, lines of marching warriors descended from the hillsides and poured into the small plain.

King Odzun approaches, lord.

Shin'ja stood at Kazan's side, gazing fixedly in the direction of the approaching horde.

It seems he comes in peace, Kazan slanted a gleaming look at his chief warrior.

Shin'ja snorted, He comes for a piece of you, General.

Then he shall pay for it with a pound of his own flesh, the humour vanished from General Kazan's face, he owes me a life already.

Shin'ja's face reflected the hardness of his master's.

Let him try to harm you. The men won't allow him to lay a finger on you.

Horse and sword had been his life. The men were his children and he loved them as they loved him. Shin'ja was right. His men were loyal. They were battle hardened and they would follow him no matter which cause he served.

General Kazan clapped a hand on Shin'ja's shoulder without taking his eyes off the approaching army. At the rear of the foot soldiers, the cavalry appeared, a puff of dust kicking up and throwing a haze in the air. Winter was over and spring was passing into high summer.

The news was out. Princess Agata, last of the Chosroid and Bagratid dynasties, was alive. It was Kazan's secret, and Shin'ja's also, that Princess Agata's cunning spy had stolen away her royal young half-brother from inside the palace. From Shin'ja's own room. Now the High King was here for a reckoning. Well, he wouldn't hear the truth from Kazan or the most lethal man under his command.

Kazan gazed narrowly down the valley and pushed down the rage that rose within him. His fingers caressed the hilt of his great, curved sword. Odzun would pay for his treachery.

He turned to Shin'ja again, What news from Armenia? Does the princess raise an army?

Shin'ja ran a hand over his short beard and a frown creased the area between his brows.

Her uncle keeps her held fast in his fortress, General, and the Artsruni princes will vie for her hand. Until she decides between them, no army will appear within our jurisdiction.

The General nodded, although a frown rested on his face also. The princess was a woman of great courage and although she was the enemy, the thought of the young fox trapped fast and shut away sent a shaft of regret through him.

Tell the men at the gates to keep them sealed until they have my direct order.

Shin'ja clapped a hand across his chest and strode away.

If Odzun the Ruthless wants war, then war he shall have. Right now, he can wait, Kazan muttered and stared down the plain. The royal pennant of the Marauders fluttered in the breeze. The high king approached.

Chapter One

Anightjar creaked in the cold darkness. Perching on the stone wall many feet thick, the nocturnal bird peered through a clear, glass window into a softly lit room.

Lying alone and gripped in the arms of a savage sleep, Princess Agata Primavera cried out.

No! No! Please...

The battlefield lay before her. Women lay broken and dying. Jutta, Veriko and many others lifted their arms to her, pleading.

Save us. Primavera, save us.

Voices familiar and dear called out to her, begging for help, weeping in sorrow and pain.

Heavy, leaden dread weighed in her heart. She gazed about in disbelief.

It's all my fault. They trusted me. They followed me.

I failed. I tried for Iberia but I couldn't do it. I never wanted this, she groaned aloud.

Pertinax's face blotted out the sun, hiding the wounded from view.

Sister, why did you leave me? he looked about and terror lit his eye, I'm afraid.

I'll come. I'll find you! Tears filled her eyes, Pertinax!

Something grasped her shoulder, digging deep. Was she dead too? General Kazan had her at last.

Princess.

A voice sounded faint and far away.

Build  an army, find support. The thought wisped through her sleep.

The pressure on her shoulder increased. The voice came closer.

Princess Agata. Wake up!

Agata blinked and gasped. Her vision cleared and she recognised the familiar walls of her room. Kait peered down at her anxiously.

Princess, you're weeping.

Agata pushed herself up into a sitting position, another shuddering breath lifting her chest.

She looked at Kait with damp eyes and cheeks.

It was terrible, she whispered, I was back there again.

Sympathy warmed Kait's face and she dropped to one knee.

You'll never forget them, Princess. It wasn't your fault.

Agata's eyebrows drew together, a crease deepening between and her lips drooped.

Their blood is on my hands. Theirs and my brother's.

The softness left Kait's face in a flash.

That one is not on your shoulders. I swore I would keep him safe and I failed.

Like I failed my warriors.

Their eyes met. Troubled grey and sombre black.

Agata threw back the covers and swung her legs out to dangle over the edge of the high bed.

My uncle promises that men for an army are coming.

It's been months, Princess, Kait's face was tight, have you written to the Iberian princes and dukes?

Agata pressed her lips together. She leaned her head on one side and shook it slightly.

She breathed in and out.

Uncle Ren will take care of it Kait. We must be patient.

Agata refused to meet Kait's eyes.

Once she'd arrived in Arzen Fortress, she felt as if she were a girl again and not the intrepid leader of rebel female warriors who hid in the wild mountains and carried out lighting raids on the Marauders.

Agata let her heavy eyelids drop. She listened to her breath and felt its warmth run over the hand she pressed against her mouth. Why was she still alive when so many of the women who'd put their trust in her lay unburied on a remote mountainside.

Her arms twitched out and her hands clasped and unclasped in her lap.

Princess?

Kait's voice was gentle yet puzzled, calling her out of her cave of torment.

Don't press me, Kait, Agata flashed, Uncle Ren is in charge now. I am safe and the Artsruni princes will come soon, bringing many men. Then Iberia will be won and Pertinax will take the throne.

The corners of Kait's mouth pulled in tight she shrugged, throwing her arms out in defeat.

Agata pushed off the edge of the bed and landed on the soft floor like a cat. She caught sight of the nightjar still perched on the sill outside.

She gasped softly, Oh Kait, look!

Ughh, Kait shuddered, shoo it away. It is a sign of death.

Agata gave her a quizzical look.

Not so, dear Kait, rather it is a symbol of wisdom and truth.

She turned back to the beautiful, still creature.

This is a sign that we must bide our time and wait for my uncle to raise an army for me.

The nightjar spotted a flicker of movement far below. It dropped from the ledge like a stone.

The two women heard a faint squeak.

Agata drew a deep breath. When she turned to Kait there was a quiver in her lips.

I will discover the truth about Pertinax. I must know if he lives and find him.

It was Kait's turn to look sceptical. She raised an eyebrow.

Prince Ren wants no part of the concubine's son.

He's my brother! My only living relative, Agata replied fiercely but Kait had a knowing expression that made Agata squirm.

"He's the child of a slave girl but you are the legitimate heir and are of Prince Ren's blood. So, tell me what you plan to do?"

Kait sat on the end of the bed and after a moment Agata sighed and sat beside her.

Keep sending messages out. Someone must know where they sent him.

͠

There she was. Veriko lifted a trembling hand to lift the ragged edges of her dusty hood. Yes, it was the Abbess. There was no mistaking that skinny figure, the mannish stride and crow-like profile. How she knew this, Veriko couldn't remember. Fury scalded at her heart, propelling her forward. She was beside the Abbess, twitching at the sleeve of her coat with frenetic fingers.

Rough hands pulled at Veriko's elbows, wrenching her back.

Away, varlet. Keep your filthy hands from her Eminence, Abbess Shingli.

With the small cry of a wounded animal, Veriko gazed around wildly.

Wait.

A voice spoke. The dry rasp of it sounded far away and dreamlike.

Veriko's  eyes met the heavy-lidded gaze of the Abbess.

The pressure on her elbows eased. Veriko shook her sleeves down.

Thank you, Abbess. She said humbly, and then words ceased. The teaming thoughts in her mind jamming and finding no release through her tongue.

What is it, child? The Abbess's tone was not unkind and her face registered a mild curiosity.

Veriko passed a shaking hand across her forehead. What had she wanted to say? The desperate need rose in her but still she had no words. It was important. Very important. The wisps of shattered memory flashed; a woman, half-slumped on the ground, her life's blood pumping from her side.

Find the Princess, Veriko. You must.

The image faded. Veriko knew the woman. But her name...she couldn't remember her name. All she remembered was the Princess. She served the princess and the princess had left her female warriors to die. The  woman in her jagged memory had died because of the princess and she had bidden Veriko find the princess.

Well, she would find her and then the Princess would pay for her treachery.

The memory vanished leaving Veriko frustrated and bereft.

Princess Agata, she whispered, staring hard after the faded vision, Princess Agata...

An expression of pure venom crossed Veriko's face, Where is Princess Agata? 

A firm grip on her arm lifted her from the mists of her own mind.

Come with me, Abbess Shingli stared hard into Veriko's confused eyes. General Kazan will ride past soon. He must not know you survived his massacre.

Chapter Two

Agata breathed in deeply , filling her lungs from the expanse of air hanging before her. Grit stirred under restless fingers as she leaned out over the great, stone rampart of Prince Ren's mountain fortress. Uncle Ren kept her close to keep her safe.

Iberia, she whispered and felt the stirring of a cool zephyr slip past her cheek, I will return to you.

The peaceful life of the Abbey would be her portion, far removed from the blood and death of the battlefield.

The same breath of wind lifted her hair and sent it dancing in streams of living red-gold down her back. That breeze came from the direction of her country; down across the mountains, over the valleys and through many miles of country away from where she stood in the protection of her uncle's castle walls. Iberia, where General Kazan and his fierce Marauder warriors enjoyed their defeat of her brave war band of women.

The tiny, winding road, stretching out beneath, lay empty. Not a single rider, or wanderer on foot, stepped along its narrow, rocky path.

Still her eyes gazed, restlessly seeking for something. Surely, some of her women survived the battle and would come to their princess in the Far Reaches. Word must come soon of her brother's whereabouts.

It's been too long, she thumped her fist on the unyielding rock.

The reunion with her nurse, Baba Gu, and the burying of resentment against her uncle had given Agata relief from her heavy burdens.

The wondrous feeling of safety and being cared for hadn't lost its appeal. Agata was quite happy with Uncle Ren in charge. He would lead the army and chase the Marauder out and with Pertinax on the throne, she would follow her dream and devote her life to God in the Abbey.

I will return, she promised her country, Pertinax and I will both return.

She ignored the deep pulsing doubt beating faintly in her heart. Her uncle and his nephews would plan it all out and she could rest securely even though one long, tedious day followed another. But Agata would stay put. She would pace the ramparts of the castle and wait.

Out there, beyond the horizon, lay Iberia. It was her country and now it lay in the hand of the fierce warlord, General Kazan and that corrupt Greek,  Abbess Shingli. The abbess knew that Princess Agata survived her suicidal leap to escape General Kazan.

The sound of a light footfall caught her ear.

Her hand leaped to her waist. Her fingers clasped thin air and brushed against the hard, metal of the pretty, golden belt. Her mouth twisted down and her heart longed for her sword. A quick glance told her a friend approached.

Your instincts serve you well, Princess, Kait Tamm grinned, her eyes glinting in mischief.

She released her hold on Q'ursha's collar and the immense hound bounded to Agata, thrusting his muzzle under her hand. For a time he had lost Agata, but the faithful hound traced her from the mountains of her Lair to the foothills of Armenia. Before the fortress walls he had found her and now he hated being anywhere other than at her side.

Bah! I want to cast this dress off! Agata thrust a handful of sky blue fabric away and scowled, Give me my sword, saddle my horse and let us be away from this place.

The laugh vanished from Kait's eyes, You must do what's best for your country now.

Well, have you heard aught of my women then?

Kait breathed a sigh that went all the way down to her toes.

No, she said quietly, but the story of your jump from the cliff top has spread like wildfire. All believe you are dead including General Kazan.

While I do nothing my little brother is somewhere alone and among strangers, if not dead, her treacherous thoughts piped up, is there no word of his whereabouts, Kait? a new note of desperation entered her voice, he must be found. Iberia needs him.

Kait shook her head and glanced away, hiding the expression in her eyes. The princess needed her brother to be found.

Well?

Still, Kait had no answer. Agata held her bottom lip between her teeth. Frustration boiled in her chest.

It makes no sense! Why did my uncle send him away and where is he now?

Fear rose. She turned to Kait, anxiety in her eyes.

Perhaps he killed him.

"Now that makes no sense, Kait assured her, be patient, Princess. We will learn, sooner or later."

Agata's fists clenched and her eyebrows twitched into a terrible frown.

A sigh gusted from the depths of her soul and Kait grimaced in sympathy.

You are safe, Princess, which is something I never thought to see. Your escape from the sacking of Narikala saved your life from the Marauders but you gained a taste of something few royal women experience—

Freedom! the words burst through Agata's teeth.

Kait nodded and an odd smile played about her lips. She held up a hand. A long, silver sword gleamed dully in the muted light.

Here, she threw it to Agata and clasped the sword's brother in her own hand.

Agata snatched the sword from the air and drew the blade in a spinning arc. Her eyes gleamed. She grasped a handful of trailing skirt in her spare hand and moved around Kait Tamm with supple grace.

The blades met with a ringing crash and Agata laughed aloud.

This is being alive, Kait, she cried, I must stay strong, ready to aid my brother when the princes win back Iberia.

You must stay strong to lead the army yourself, Princess.

With quick steps, Kait slashed, leapt forward and slashed again. Agata parried each stroke and sent Kait dancing away from her own attack.

No, Agata was serious, I tried that, Kait and I failed miserably. We must let the men do it now.

Neither saw the watcher standing in the shadows, observing all with a keen eye. Izak, Lord of Klarjeti, vassal of Prince Artak, made it his business to know exactly what the Princess of Iberia did and with whom. He noted the skill of each woman with astonished interest.

The princess and her chief warrior kept up their restless pacing punctuated by sudden swift battles of tempered steel until their breath sucked great hollows in their throats and sweat darkened the lines of bound up hair.

You've lost none of your speed, Princess, Kait lifted her blade up in a salute.

This keeps me sane. Promise never to allow my uncle to divide our paths.

He wishes to send Pilar and I in a delegation to the Tuli.

Kait's words fell into a pool of startled silence.

Princess Agata looked at her, a storm cloud gathering on her face and swept over to the rampart once more. As always, she gazed toward Iberia. She thought of a conversation with her uncle, just two days ago. He'd said nothing of this.

Prince Pertinax is safely placed with guardians. There is no longer any need to keep you hidden. You are your father's legitimate heir. The country will be established in your name.

She'd gazed at his face, searching for confirmation that he was telling the truth.

No, Uncle. Pertinax should be with me. I'm his sister. Give him back to me.

Her uncle was firm. There was no wavering in the sternness of his gaze.

It is safer for Pertinax if you don't know his whereabouts. You will be the beacon, Princess Agata and you must make a strong marriage alliance to gather support and strength-

Uncle! You know I do not wish to marry, the exclamation burst from her lips, I cannot-

You will do your duty, niece. I cannot forge an army for you unless you marry one of the princes.

I can't do it, uncle. My mother- your sister, suffered. She died of misery and I won't—

Enough!

Prince Ren's face was red and any trace of sympathy had vanished.

A princess must do what is required in these matters. I'll hear nothing more from you.

He lifted a hand and waved over the guards standing by the doors. They snapped to attention and strode over.

My niece wishes to return to her chambers, Prince Ren barked, and she will remain there until further notice. See that it is done.

The guards bowed and Princess Agata, swordless and with no warriors of her own to command, had no choice but to march ahead of the men back to her quarters.

The memory still made her grit her teeth and her eyes smart with helpless rage.

But had you entered the holy orders, you'd have submitted to authority,  Agata, she thought.

Now on the ramparts a chill wind blew around Princess Agata. She turned back to her faithful Kait, her loyal companion through many past dangers, and gazed at her with fiery eyes.

My uncle confines me to my room for days and now he instructs my own women without my knowledge? she flared, He has no reason to send you other than to render me completely friendless.

Prince Ren seeks only to place you on Iberia's throne, my princess.

No, Agata said slowly, dropping the tip of her sword to rest on the ground, he plans marriage for me - which I refused to his face. I suppose he believes that the less support I have, the more compliant I will be.

Hah! a snort erupted from Kait, He doesn't know you very well, then.

A distant bell tolled, once, twice. On the fifth peal, Agata shrugged and handed the sword back to Kait.

I don't want to lead again, Kait. I am happy for Uncle Ren to do it...but I don't want to marry, she looked at Kait and the taut desperation shone in her eyes, I can't do it.

Kait watched the princess's face and was disturbed, both by Princess Agata's loss of confidence, reverting back to her timid girlhood self and by her dread of a life as a miserable wife.

My princess, remember all your experience and wisdom—

Agata gathered herself together with a sharp sigh. She gave her head a shake and pressed her lips together.

Come on, good Kait, she said, time waits for no one and Baba Gu will be waiting to dress me for dinner.

͠

Still leaning against the shadowed column, Lord Izak gazed unseeing, fingers moving from one knot to another in the short rope draped in his hand. He knew, of course, that Prince Ren wanted the princess separated from her companions of sword and shield. However, nothing had been discussed about giving the princess in marriage, or to whom. Clearly, Prince Ren wanted to keep him ignorant.

His eyelids fell covering eyes of steel. His own liege lord, Prince Artak, was urgent about knowing one thing; Prince Ren's plans for the princess and therefore, Iberia.  His fingers ceased their restless fidgeting, clenching hard over a particular knot. The princess was a prize. Her undeniable right to the throne of Iberia would give her husband the crown.

The footsteps of the women faded into the distance. His eyes snapped open and he eased broad shoulders off the solid pillar. The princess must not be left friendless and alone. Dinner approached and Prince Ren must be made to talk. This evening.

Chapter Three

The brush caught on a snarl, sending a shooting pain into Agata's scalp.

Ouch!

She jerked her head away with tightened lips.

What vexes thee, Princess?

Baba resumed smooth strokes through the thick, copper hair, her shrewd old eyes catching Agata's in the mirror.

Agata held her gaze, allowing the frustrated edge of her soul to appear. She kept silent.

Tsk, tsk, the old lady reproved, so young and so furious but I don't think it's the hair-pulling that troubles thee.

Agata looked down and away. She was in no mood for prevaricating. Even as she sat here, a captive stuffed into the prison of an evening gown, Marauders strengthened their hold on Iberia. Her kingdom. While her uncle did nothing to recruit men to the cause.

I don't wish to sit idle any longer, Baba. My uncle bides his time while my people languish under the iron fist of my enemy.

Ye have forgotten the prince works for thine own good, Princess Agata.

Agata lifted an impatient shoulder, dismissing Baba's words. She would confront her uncle over the evening repast. When he was replete and sipping over his wine, she would demand he take action.

Baba clearly read the expressions fleeting across the smooth face of the girl who almost writhed where she sat, like a caged tiger.

Tsk, tsk.

The sharp sound penetrated Agata's maelstrom of emotions.

She sprang to her feet and whirled on old Baba.

At the back of her mind, she noted that she could now see right across the top of Baba's head.

I won't sit here any longer, she cried, I am trapped here while my people are dying there.

She stabbed a finger in Iberia's direction.

Baba gazed back unflinching.

So? Will you thrust into your uncle's dinner table and throw all those restless emotions on the table? For certain, Princess Agata, that is the way to be weighed, measured and relegated to the ranks of volatile womanhood.

Her uncle's face rose beside Baba's as clearly as if he stood there. With all her might she resisted but logic stole through her hastily thrown up barriers. Baba was right. Uncle Ren found it difficult to comprehend that Agata commanded her own army. He passed over her victories and honed in on her great defeat. General Kazan had easily beaten a raw, inexperienced girl foolishly facing up to his forces, decimating all her female warriors.

Prince Ren was emphatic; a woman was not born to lead. And thinking of her failures, Agata agreed with him.

Agata took a deep, shivering breath. She whisked away from Baba's all too knowing eyes and moved to stand by the window, fighting to regain inner calm.

Anxiety crept in. Baba was so right. If she rushed into her uncle and revealed all that gnawed away at her heart, he would see only the emotion. He would seal his belief that a female was too delicate for the business of war and needed a husband's guidance. Agata shivered. She suspected his delay in gathering the promised army was due to the reality of her youth and her gender.

Daily she appeared at his meal table, dutifully gowned with hair intricately bound. The tan of her cheeks faded back to paleness, the hands so recently used to scramble through the forests gripping a sword, had quickly become smooth. She examined her nails, so polished and clean. A smile lifted the corners of her lips as her thumbs brushed the hard calluses at the base of her fingers. Practising manoeuvres with her sword kept her hands hard.

Thank you, Baba, she said quietly.

She breathed in deep and released the pent-up air slowly. She bit the inside of her cheek and held it in her teeth. She must be calm. She must think. Rather than heading straight for her goal, she must be clever. Prince Ren intended to help her, but not the way she wanted. Cracks were appearing in Agata's reliance on him.

She turned to Baba, but still paced before the window, I won't marry at his whim.

Her jaw hardened over the words.

Baba put the brush down, sighing in her turn.

What will you do then, Princess? He is your uncle. Your guardian. He has the right to—

He has no right, Agata interrupted but her heart lay heavy, squeezing her stomach.

A wave of nausea snatched her breath. Her uncle did have the right and her only hope was that he was kinder than her father had been.

She stepped in front of the mirror, staring at the refined reflection looking back at her. The rich gown, the perfectly dressed hair. The eyes caught her attention. They held the frantic gleam of a trapped bird.

This is not what I want, Baba.

She turned to the woman who'd been her nurse from childhood.

I won't be thrust into a marriage for the sake of the family like my mother.

Baba Gu straightened the brush on the table until it perfectly aligned with the combs and other hair dressing tools. Agata watched, knowing her nurse had something to say and waited for her words to fall.

"What will you do?"

The question was gentle but more cutting than the sharp, two-edged blade of Princess Agata's sword. What would she do? What plan did she have? The captive bird's wings fluttered helplessly against the bars of her cage.

Seeing defeat in her charge's face, Baba softened.

'Tis the way of the world, child. Men lead. Women follow.

Agata's lips tightened, I led my women, Baba.

Aye.

We flourished. We experienced victories.

And now? Where are your warrior women now?

The inevitable, unavoidable blow landed on Agata's raw, quivering soul.

Any general, any leader may experience defeat no matter how well prepared.

She flashed her defiance but a single tear escaped the corner of her eye and trickled to her cheek where it glittered in the candlelight like a sparkling jewel.

Guilt cut at her heart, mixed with unutterable sorrow. The faces, their faces flashed before her eyes. Jutta, Veriko, Viyan, Katranide, Pertinax and many others; fighting for her, bleeding for her and many dying... for her.

Lastly the faces of her enemies; Abbess Shingli the roman churchwoman, and General Kazan, war lord of the occupying Marauders.

As Baba watched, her own heart quivering at the necessary truth the Princess suffered.

Agata's face grew cold. She would thrust her own knife through the Abbess' wicked heart, no matter what. She couldn't sit here, mouldering in a fortress when her brother was sent away and her country lay in the hands of that woman and General Kazan.

With her jaw clenched and her face hard, Agata faced Baba Gu. Her eyes glittered as she spoke.

My country is watered by the blood of my slain women, Baba. I am the plant that must grow strong in it.

͠

Think, Veriko! You fought under Princess Agata Primavera. Where is her Lair? Where did she hide?

Veriko rubbed her forehead, gingerly passing sensitive fingertips over the jagged, red scar above her temple. She strained to remember but only the same vague images of dark, cave walls came.

I cannot remember, she whispered.

You must know. Where is it?

Pain radiated out from her temple and escalated behind her eyes. Veriko clutched her ears, a groan spilling over her lips.

I don't know...I cannot...I don't remember!

Her voice rose to a throbbing shriek.

She jumped up, turning over the chair and sprang to the Abbess. Snatching the dagger from the Abbess' belt, she turned the sharp point into the cloth tunic at her chest.

Thrust it home, she sobbed, her voice ragged, end this torment.

The Abbess leaned forward until Veriko felt hot, sour breath on her face. The Abbess' eyes were dark and unblinking, the lids heavy and hooded.

Endure it, child. You will serve me yet.

The sobs caught in Veriko's throat. She gazed into the hypnotic stare, confused.

How?

Go to the Far Reaches. Find Princess Agata. She will believe you are a loyal warrior rejoining her.

As she spoke the hated name, the Abbess's nostrils widened as if she smelt something rotten.

She betrayed us. Left us to our fate, Veriko's words slurred as she struggled to get her tangled thoughts out.

She did, the Abbess' voice was insistent, she cares naught for you.

Veriko clung to the vein of hatred pulsing in her heart. Princess Agata must be punished for them. For the lost ones. Veriko saw the field from that day, saw the women lying broken and bleeding, some with swords still clutched in stiffening fingers. Women abandoned by their princess and left to die.

Pain shot through her head again. Her hand trembled as she pressed against her temple, trying to push the pressure away. A fear clutched at her throat.

What if the princess sees right through me? I am damaged. I can't think properly. She will know that I seek vengeance.

The Abbess leaned close, jerking Veriko by her forearm, You will go there as a hero, Veriko.

She let go of Veriko's arm and ushered her from her chambers, down dim, empty corridors and into the shadowed recesses of the royal stables.

You must achieve one thing only; lure the princess back into Iberia.

Her voice was a guttural growl and her serpentine eyes glittered at Veriko.

That is all. Lure her back and send word. I will capture that red bird and pluck out all her feathers. The princess won't escape her fate a second time.

Awash with pain, Veriko fumbled her foot into the proffered stirrup and automatically swung up into the saddle. Sitting high above the Abbess, she placed an arm respectfully across her chest in salute.

I am sending my servant with you, the Abbess kept her voice low, He has your money, your carrier pigeons and your weapons. He will take you to the border of Iberia. Then you will ride for lands of the Far Reaches until you gain Prince Ren's walled castle. Find out where the princess is residing.

She squeezed Veriko's leg, giving it a little shake. Something cleared in Veriko's eyes and the Abbess smiled coldly.

Veriko thumped a fist across her chest again and without another word she urged the horse forward.

Amidst the clatter of hooves on cobblestones, the Abbess watched her go. Her henchman looked back and lifted a finger to his forehead. The Abbess dipped her head. Satisfaction wrapped around her, enveloping her in a warmth she hadn't felt for a long time. Providence was on her side. Princess Agata would soon die.

Chapter Four

Alight knock at the outer door cut through the heavy atmosphere between Princess Agata and Baba Gu. Both women were instantly silent. Waiting. The quiet knock came again.

Come, Agata called.

Kait Tamm put her head around the door.

Lord Izak is here to take you to the feasting hall.

Agata and Baba Gu exchanged glances. Silently, they gathered their things and filed through the door. Lord Izak stood waiting, a slow smile in his eyes rather than on his lips. It was the smile of an old friend. With an answering gleam, Princess Agata put a hand through the crook of his arm.

Pilar and Kait Tamm stepped forward from either side of Agata's chamber door and flanked old Baba Gu.

As they approached the banquet hall, footmen pulled back the lofty, curved wooden doors, revealing a high-ceilinged room beyond. The chatter of many voices smote Agata's ears.

I didn't know the prince had so many guests, Agata looked inquiringly up at Lord Izak.

Prince Gurgen arrived mid-morning with a large retinue.

Agata disciplined her face into a smooth veneer that showed nothing of the blaze burning in her heart. Finally, the princes of the Far Reaches were coming. Gurgen was here. Prince Artak would come soon. They would lead forces into Iberia and throw General Kazan out. Coldness smothered the fire in her, leaving dank ashes in its place. What cost would these warriors be for her?

The gloom of the room was lifted by lamps blazing from each pillar around the thick stone walls. Their glow chased the shadows deep into corners and recesses but did nothing to push back the coolness of the air. Agata shivered and drew the light folds of her fine, woollen cloak about her.

As they passed through the door, Kait and Pilar peeled away. Lord Izak led Agata between long tables set along each side of the great room toward a banquet table at the far end.  Servants moved about, placing final touches on the snowy white table with its soft folds of gathered blue fabric falling to the floor. Nobles, unfamiliar to Agata, sat there as well as Prince Ren's men. Of her uncle, there was no sign.

As Agata stepped along with Lord Izak, a hush spread, stilling all conversation until at last the entire room full of people was silent. Agata swallowed and held her chin high. She would not be intimidated by these people. They must believe in her ability to return to the throne of her fathers. She kept her eyes on the table ahead. The soft light of lamps reflected a fiery tint in the shine of her hair.

The chief steward gestured to the left of Prince Ren's seat at the head of the table. With gentle courtesy, Lord Izak held the chair as Agata gathered her silken skirts and the long cloak and sat down.

No sooner had Agata settled in her seat than the great doors opened again and her uncle, Prince Ren, entered. Among the lords and advisors following close behind a striking figure stood out. A head taller than the prince, the stranger was dressed in a dusky blue tunic. Studded leather straps crisscrossed the front of the tunic which was belted at the waist with a wide leather belt and a silken blue sash. A sword with a blood red ruby buried in the tip of its hilt was thrust into a scabbard wrought with pure gold embossed with intricate designs. A closely woven blue cloak was draped about his shoulders and swirled down to the ankles of his high, leather boots. With a confident stride, the owner of the boots marched to the high table behind the prince as the other men were seated at the lower tables.

Prince Ren lowered himself into the high seat and gestured for the imposing stranger to sit at his right hand.

While the men settled in their seats, Agata was aware that Kait Tamm and Pilar withdrew to stand along the wall, underneath a blazing torch. Present enough for all to realise the princess still had her own retinue about.

In a moment of cold clarity, Agata realised the truth of Baba Gu's earlier words. She could not come before an array of hard men, full of fury and disappointment like a thwarted child. If she wanted her brother back, if she wanted to avoid being a pawn in their marriage game, then she would have to be meek. And clever.

The people in the room were quiet. The newcomer held some magnetism that reached everyone. He looked about keenly and smoothed the sleeves of his beautiful cloak. Agata caught a glimpse of purple silk that slid sumptuously across the muscled arm of its wearer.

Let me present to you all, Prince Gurgen of Artsrun, Prince Ren announced. He looked around, pleased, and Agata forced the corners of her mouth to lift in a smile.

Welcome, many voices chorused.

Prince Gurgen nodded genially and ran his hand down the sides of his mouth and down his soft, short beard.

The benign expression fooled no one. 

Servants moved about, quiet and swift. Dishes of food were placed in abundance and glasses filled with red Iberian wine.

Prince Gurgen cleared his throat and, with a delicate look in Princess Agata's direction, addressed Prince Ren.

Prince Ren, how did you manage to whisk the lost princess of Iberia safely away from that wild lion of a Marauder, General Kazan?

Prince Ren, with a bland face, and the tiniest head turn toward Lord Izak, replied.

There were many of our loyal men in Iberia but it was a Messenger who penetrated Iberia secretly. He found the princess, convinced her to come and brought her safely out.

She had to be convinced? Prince Gurgen appeared to be puzzled but Agata, seeing the cold eyes, gold-flecked like a predatory hawk, felt a creeping unease.

Suddenly, she was back in the old palace at Narikala, standing in front of her father and trying to keep her knees from buckling under her. His cold, cruel gaze cut her to tiny pieces and she just wanted to get away. Gurgen filled her with the same alarm. How could she escape before that intense, probing hunter's gaze fell on her?

Even as the thought passed through her mind, Prince Gurgen gestured toward her.

This, I believe, is the lady of legend. You must introduce us to your niece, Prince Ren.

The Princess Agata of Iberia, Prince Ren said formally, looking from Agata to Prince Gurgen.

Agata murmured a polite greeting and, after a brief glance into Prince Gurgen's volatile face, dropped her own away. One glimpse was enough. The prince was a seething, roiling volcano of a man, barely suppressing his own vital energy to mouth the empty words that court protocol demanded.

She sat up straight, making an effort to hide the shaking of her fingers by clasping them together.

As the dishes were carried to the table, the Vizier diverted Prince Gurgen's attention by asking a question of trading along routes that passed through the prince's own lands.

They are greatly interrupted, Prince Gurgen answered.

His voice wasn't a bellow by any means, but it contained a carrying quality that cut through all other conversation and without any seeming effort, he commanded the attention of every person at that long table.

They watch with bated breath, Agata thought, as though he is going to