The leaf bit back as soon as she snapped it. Blood bubbled on Rhinna’s fingers where the teeth sunk in.
“My lady…” Tamaa started from the shadows of his corner.
Rhinna gasped. Then her widening eyes arrested in an unseeing daze.
“My lady?” Tamaa repeated. He looked at his fellow Clafes, who had also come into the light.
“Is it poison?” Chura asked.
“The aloe is not poisonous,” Alto said. “No…” She prevented Bass from reaching Rhinna. “She is an eisee, and we may not understand.” The bald man frowned but halted beside the tall woman, folding his arms.
Tamaa bided the minutes with the others, watching the unmoving face of his mistress.
“Cory…” Rhinna grabbed the plant for support and would have taken the pot down with her if Chura had not darted in to catch her.
The Lady’s brow furrowed as she surveyed them. She lifted red-speckled hands and threw a chagrined glance at the aloe. “I broke it?”
“The Harmony Shrub is strong,” Alto said, coming to help on her other side. “It will heal and thrive.”
Alto seldom used Rhinna’s name for the plant. It was special to the Lady. The aloe was given to her by King Zere, decades ago when she first came to Elolle. The limp and sickly branch that the Kronait leader had proffered was a subtle challenge at her presumption to unite the fiefdoms under her rule. As she had nurtured the plant to health, so Rhinna had solidified the hostile factions into a blooming kingdom. But those regions had grown restless again, corresponding to the recent decline in her duties.
Tamaa wasn’t sure that the Lady had noticed the trouble. But he did know when her distraction started—Jasper’s ill-fated party, three years ago.
“Are you well, my lady?” Alto asked.
Rhinna’s focus cleared, but her distress intensified. “I must go,” she said, pushing herself free.
“Where?” Alto said.
“To Lothaulind, this instant.”
Tamaa grimaced. Beyond the sea journey, which made the Clafes sick, the northern land was inhospitable and its sovereign unnerving. Yet, they went there often because of the Lady’s attachment to Lord Malchor. Those visits had lessened of late, and Tamaa had begun to hope that Rhinna was losing interest in him, as she did everything else.
Alto showed no ire or surprise as she said, “I will prepare the mounts and make arrangements for the ship.”
“I go alone… and in haste.”
Chura beat them with her hasty “No!” but they all made to contradict their mistress.
Rhinna’s harried expression quieted into icy sternness. Her outline took on a green brilliance, and Tamaa lowered his eyes.
“I have been summoned by Lord Anael to meet him and my fellow eisei there. It is not given to you, or I, to defy his will.”
An acute silence fell.
“Forgive us, my lady. We only feared for your safety, since last time.” Alto’s voice quavered. Tamaa marveled that she could speak at all. They had all dropped to their knee; he didn’t know when.
Last time—the party. Only Tamaa had gone with her then. When he returned and reported what had happened, none of the other Clafes blamed him. It didn’t matter. He blamed himself.
But Tamaa still didn’t understand. How could the traitorous Duke of Berginthold have wielded so much power as to entrap them all, including the three eisei? Tamaa noticed nothing before hearing Lord Malchor’s voice shouting of foul play. That sounded odd, but the look on his mistress’ face struck him harder. A frozen horror. Tamaa tried to rush to her but could not move. His mind had re-awakened, but the body remained enthralled. He spent agonizing moments watching all the treachery unfold, being nearly blinded when the Stone Endurant broke. The force working on him would not even allow him to close his eyes. Malchor had pushed Rhinna behind him, holding her there. They were freed. Why didn’t they assist Lord Jasper and Lady Naamit? Surely if all the eisei worked together, they would prevail against the duke. Instead, the villain escaped before the hateful magic fell from Tamaa. By then, he could do nothing but stand by his distraught mistress.
“Do you doubt Lord Anael, that he is enough for me?” Rhinna’s voice quivered too. Is she angry?
“Nay, my lady. I did not know he would be there and had forbidden us to come.” Alto sounded firmer. She had lifted her head, her afro falling from her face. “Otherwise, we would be remiss not to stand by your side, as we had vowed to do.”
A bold reminder.
They had all spoken the pledge, when Rhinna first formed the Clafes.
In shadows or fairest light, to stand beside as your might.
Through the years, the Lady had not required all of them at every function. But after the last incident, they four had agreed to go together always. No occasion challenged that resolve until now. Alto would not relent easily.
Rhinna’s mouth formed a white line holding her face in check. “This is different. It is my responsibility, my decision.” She exhaled. “What we face is beyond your might… maybe even mine.” That last part was barely audible.
Suddenly Rhinna’s face sagged, as if succumbing to the weight of ages. They said her years were more than could be imagined. Tamaa thought he saw all of them right now.
She blinked and was herself again. “It will be shadows and fairest light, yet you will not stand beside me. Stand by my purpose instead. Stay here, and support Ditu. I will leave him instructions—and see that Javadi tends to this plant. That is my final word.”
Alto stared at her, finally dropping her head in a nod. “I can still prepare the transport and provisions for you.”
“That will not be necessary.”
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