"Very well, then. I will have Fulco see to the preparations for the feast, while these fine gentlemen and I discuss a few final things before they all depart," Truls said. "I will be with you in a few moments, my lord," Bashir said. "I would like to speak to the queen for a brief moment," he continued. Truls shrugged, as though he had not a care in the world about what they discussed. "We shall head towards the market. Join us when you can, my lord," Truls said. Bashaa bowed, as he watched the others head off, already deep in conversation.
"I have a favor I'd like to ask of you, my lady," Bashaa began. Leona held a surprised look on her face. "And what might that be, my lord?" she asked. "You see, my son was only able to arrive on the morning of the council, and, unfortunately, missed the tour we received of the castle given us by Fulco. He has always wanted to come to Coltend to visit the magnificence of the great castle." Bashir began. "If there is a possibility of you, my lady, giving him the tour yourself, I would consider it a great honor," Bashir said.
I've been caught. He saw right through me, she thought to herself, and swallowed.
"I would be delighted to give him a tour, my lord," she said, trying to maintain her composure.
This sly dog is trying to get me alone with his son, afterall. Oh, be still my heart, she thought.
"Most excellent! Allow me to give you my thanks for such an honor," Bashir said excitedly. "There is no need for thanks," she said and smiled at him nervously. "Oh, but there is, my lady!" Bashaa said stubbornly. Leona chuckled nervously, allowing her inner lack of composure to show a little. "If you insist, my lord," she said, regaining her composure. Bashir bowed out, leaving the queen and Bashaa alone.
"Shall we, then, milady?" Bashaa said in his enticing voice, as extended his arm. She said nothing, but took his arm and they were off. "Enjoy yourselves!" Truls called out with a brighter than usual smile on his face. The two of them returned warm smiles toward the group, and continued walking.
"So, milady," Bashir said, his voice had a very strong resonance and a thick, eastern accent. They had only walked for about a minute before either of them had said anything at all. "So, prince," Leona replied. She was as red as a beet, and had a hard time hiding it. "Walking in silence when in such good company would be an absolute waste," he began. "It would, indeed," she replied, charmingly.
"To be brutally blunt, and bluntly brutal, I simply have to ask: Why were you staring at me so fervently just now?" he asked. "By the graces! You don't waste a second, do you?" she asked. "Frankly, I'm astonished as to why you'd want to know at all," she said, feeling her composure whittling away. "It is painfully obvious that I am the wife of the great King Truls. That fact alone should have steered your gaze away from me," she stated with little confidence in her own words.
Bashaa tilted his head. "The 'great' King Truls…" he said inwardly, wondering why she had used that tone. "Well, my lady," he began, "in my culture, it is common for one to not wait around to speak one's mind. It helps to avoid… confusion. Therefore, I am doing only what my culture and people have taught me. I apologize if that was inappropriate," he said apologetically.
I didn't know their culture was like that, she thought.
"In that case, it helps make your question make a little more sense," she said. "However, to answer your question just as brutally blunt, and bluntly brutal: I am very interested in you. You're a very handsome man," she said sheepishly. "I knew from the start that this 'tour' of the castle was a farce," she continued.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, showing off his bright smile. "You see, I had figured as much, though I wasn't sure. I thought it would be better to ask you as soon as I had the opportunity, given the fact that I will be leaving in a few days," he said. "So, you knew. The whole time?" she asked.
"Yes, that is correct," he replied. "And did you and your father plan for us to be alone like this?" she asked, with a bit of indignation in her voice. "Not exactly," he retorted shyly. "I simply assumed there would be some form of tour for me, though I didn't account for the possibility of it being with the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he replied.
She blushed.
"If you keep this up, I feel as though my head will explode from compliments," she said with her eyes wide and her left hand to her chest. "I'd rather it didn't," he said, looking deeply into her eyes. "For the world would suffer such a loss, that I do not honestly believe that it would ever recover," he said.
"What makes you think that? You barely even know me," she retorted. Keep your composure, woman! She shouted internally. "I know a strong woman like a hound knows its prey," he replied with a sly grin.
And it's gone. My composure has abandoned me. Perhaps I should wave at it as it passes by, she thought.
"Now that is interesting," she said, taking note of the things he said. "How did you learn that?" she asked. "When your father has a whole harem of women at his disposal, and you are but a small child who does not know much about the opposite sex, you tend to learn a few things by either observation or actually listening," he replied. "Something few men are capable of," she said in compliance with his last phrase.
"A man must know how to do a few things if he is to succeed in life: how to do battle, how to hunt, how to manage his property and money. And, of course, how to treat a woman," he said matter-of-factly.
She could feel the butterflies in her stomach beating their wings.
"These are all, with exception of the last, things that require only a small degree of skill. People can be trained to do those things. However, knowing how to treat a woman not as an object, like most do in my culture, but as a person requires an entire shift in perspective. Respect and privacy, rights, and confidence; these things are vital to give, as they are due, to an equal," he concluded.
"I am truly impressed to hear that coming from someone who - as you stated before - grew up with a harem of women at his disposal," Leona said in disbelief. Her thoughts began to run freely about him, and she hadn't once stopped herself thinking about what kind of man he really was. "I aim to impress, my lady," he said slyly. "Particularly when my opponent is the 'great' King Truls," he said with emphasis.
Leona felt something click in her mind, and she immediately looked to her left and found the large wooden doorway that led downstairs to the cellar. She smiled. "Follow me," she said. "Where are you ta…?" he began to say. "Shhh," she said, cutting him off and putting a finger on his mouth. She grabbed his hand, and dragged him down into the cellar.
It was lit by two torches nearest to the doorway. On each pillar that supported the racks of enormous barrels of wine and other spirits, there was an unlit torch for each one. Meads, wines, vodkas and ciders were neatly organized, and labeled accordingly with stamps of ink, or brands charred into the wood.
They stepped through the door, their eyes taking a short time to adapt to the torchlight of the room. "This way," she said, leading him between racks and shelves that held the countless wooden barrels. The sound of their footsteps were dampened by the barrels in the dark, chilled room.
She stopped herself by leaning up against one of the nearby barrels, staring at Bashaa. Her inviting eyes were straining to be able to see him properly, but she managed. He said nothing, as he could feel her intent, and moved in to kiss her by putting one hand on her waist and the other on the lower half of her face.
While they were kissing, he undid the laces to her dress, and it fell to the ground. In the meantime, she undid the sashes that held up his pants, and she heard the cloth hitting the floor. She turned around, leaning against the barrel, and no sooner was his pelvis meeting her backside with his hands on her hips.
They had only just begun to make love, when they were interrupted by a noise. "What was that?" she whispered. "I'm not sure," Bashir replied, pausing his thrusting movement for a few heartbeats. "It's probably something small, judging by the sound of it," he said, unconvinced. "If you say so," she said, and they continued what they had started a few moments ago.
About half an hour later, they finished and had to put their clothes back on in the dim light. Bashaa fumbled with the laces, attempting to replicate the knots Clare had done earlier that day. "That will have to suffice," he said, tying a knot he often used on his horse's reins. "Pray no one notices the knot," he said. "That's comforting," she replied sarcastically. Leona peeked out of the cellar through the crack between the frame and the door, seeing not a single soul about them. "We're clear," she whispered back to Bashaa, who followed her out, taking her arm as if nothing had happened.
A few minutes of walking and awkward conversation later, they were back in the main throne room. The tables were already being set up for the feast later on that evening, but did not find the other lords. "Truls must be showing them the garden, or perhaps the market," she concluded, breaking the silence.
"We'd better hurry to them. Otherwise suspicions might arise," Bashaa said, intensifying the pace of his gait. "I'm certain they already suspect enough," Leona retorted. She was only a little shorter than Bashaa, but felt a degree of difficulty keeping up with him, especially in the clothes she was wearing.
They went to the garden first, but found only empty hedge-lined trails to the large garden maze that lay at the back of the palace. "They must be at the market, if they're not here," she deduced. "I really hope you have a plan to explain our elongated absence. After all, a tour of the castle couldn't have taken that long" Bashaa said nervously. Leona felt a twinge of displeasure at his lack of faith in her.
"Yes, I do. We go to the market, find them, and tell them that we had no idea where they were, and that we spent the entire time looking for them. A half-truth, if you will," she said matter of factly. Bashir nodded. "Lead the way, milady," he said. "We both know where I'd lead you if I had a choice," she said quietly through a thin lipped grin. He smiled, and continued walking.
They made their way down a few flights of steps that eventually led to the main market. They looked out over the hundreds of small tents and booths that were the organs of the market itself. The racket produced from countless shopkeepers and clients yelling at each other to haggle for better prices resounded across the enormous courtyard. The market itself had a wide variety of supplies such as meats, hides, fauna, flora, precious stones, and jewelry.
"I think I might know where he may be," Leona said, looking out over the hoard of people under the midday sun. She took him by the hand, and walked into the crowd of people. Without guards to pave the way for her, she finally felt what it was like to be a regular person in her own skin. Rubbing up against countless sweaty and grimy people, as well as breathing in the same air as maybe a hundred others took a toll on her psychological health, but she pressed on.
"Through here," she called back to her companion, and they turned down the main street of the market, where, at long last, there was a little room to breathe a drag of fresh air. "I pray I never have to cozy up to a hide seller to get by again. The stench on that man," she said, still feeling the man's sweat dripping down her cheek.
"That is because you only just missed the butcher himself. I swear he smelled worse than a thousand carcasses," Bashaa added as though it were a contest to see who had suffered more. Leona laughed, and it made him smile.