Canes and Scales Read online

  Table of Contents

  Linden

  Alasdaire

  Linden

  Alasdaire

  Linden

  Alasdaire

  Linden

  Alasdaire

  Linden

  Alasdaire

  Linden

  About the Author

  Fantasy Romance from Dreamspinner Press

  Copyright

  Linden

  Revelations

  Olive trees reached their age-twisted branches into the cerulean sky, imitating gnarled sentinels protecting the sun-washed landscape. Vineyards added compact bounty. In the mountains fading into the distance, secretive oak groves sheltered ancient temples long faded from common memory. The old groves granted me wonderment and loss, so unfitting for a Prince. Despite their so-called illegal allure, I’d examine them again on this long-anticipated trip.

  My ancient cultures obsession remained secret, since my royal family specialized in destroying anything challenging the cruel Serpent Throne’s might. Heavens, imagine if cultural loss invoked the Prince’s sympathy. If certain deranged nobles discovered my spiritual heresy, they might feel inclined to create an ugly confrontation. How dare the Prince feel compassion.

  How dare indeed.

  What was wrong with me? I relaxed into my seat and shook my head. Acting so damned introspective was silly. Time to enjoy the rugged, bountiful landscape spreading outside the carriage window in warm bliss. The sight eased my long-lingering tension. My war-battered shoulders felt lighter, less constricted. Sad to think I hadn’t visited the invigorating Southern climate in years. What a surprise; war threw life off course. In my years protecting my country, I experienced too much war and death, damn it, enough death, blood, and suffering to thrust a man into madness. My life energy defended my country from those who despised what we stood for in this modern world. In truth I despised what we represented, but my thoughts dwelled only in my mind. I held so many personal secrets. When not battling the rebellious neighbors, I worked to guide Ardaul in a cleaner direction. The country’s transformation progressed in solid determination; well, when not hindered by my ignorant brother.

  My fingers rubbed my face. A frown bespeaking sour recollection creased my weathered skin. Stop. I fled court to forget my recent blood-splattered years, but dismissing such a gloomy time from my waking mind needed more concentration, more drinking, more everything pleasurable to wash away the darkness. Pleasure as medicine worked for me. A well-deserved vacation stretched before me. I needed to cease fretting.

  The coach slowed. We passed through the manor’s imposing iron gates. The time displayed on my silver vest clock prompted a smile. I should have commed ahead but please, a Prince should be able to do as he pleased. I knew arriving four hours early tossed the household into majestic frenzy. But I held no desire to arrive when my cousin’s guests swarmed the manor. Cousin Keith enjoyed surrounding himself with merriment, so he didn’t mind if nobles dedicated to delight lingered at his manor for months. A few of the more determined ones probably remained for a year. According to the schedule commed to last night’s inn, Keith’s social crowd enjoyed an afternoon picnic at Lord Lazio’s, so this way I arrived, bathed, and embraced solitude. Solitude suited me most of all, which is why I warned Keith acting as his shining royal guest did not suit me. My dear cousin understood my need for privacy. I even traveled without the usual fuss and fanfare, using a simple horse drawn carriage instead of the dreadfully uncomfortable steam-driven royal carriage. My four bodyguards and five trusted armed guards deterred bandits and terrorists. I could have deployed the royal airship but to me the vessel screamed target. No, better to keep my feet close to the soothing earth.

  My personal staff would enjoy their well-earned vacation. If I needed anything, Keith’s staff would accommodate my needs. Aside from eating, sleeping and the greatly desired physical pleasure, I doubted if I needed his staff. I knew how to dress myself and wipe my derrière. What a noble wonder!

  Why did simpering royals need everything handed to them? My valet Gerald loved me since he owned an easy job. He entered my bedroom, woke me and offered advice if he felt my vest not quite appropriate for my jacket. I loved mixing patterns; I swore my years trapped in a dull military uniform inspired the urge to imitate a frivolous peacock. My poor page worked harder, especially when we camped in a cold clime. Breaking ice in the water bucket during a hard sleet was never fun. The gears in the hand-cranked sparkers often succumbed to extreme cold. Young Gerald deserved knighthood and, when he reached the proper age, I planned to bestow the honor on him.

  Ahh, yes, the carriage navigated the last curve. Massive Elidian Manor sprawled into view behind the sweeping formal rose gardens and elaborate fountains. Three glittering five-story octagonal towers decorated the bulk. The front foyer bell tower, containing an amazing clock dripping with ponderous gears, stood before all. The clock was an ancient first gear model, and, if it ever fell from its high perch, the massive weight would sink into the marble floor for many feet. I hoped no one stood below the tragic impact.

  Powers on High, why did I act so morbid? I arrived unscathed so I should rejoice.

  My favorite cousin appreciated his wonderful country home. In turn, he monitored local politics for me. Again, perfect. Keith’s watchful stance allowed me to imprison a few rebellious nobles who thought to try staging an uprising while we fought in the North. Think again, fools.

  I felt like a waiting spider occupying an extremely large web. Fitting. Disturb a line and snap, I supplied quick destruction via any technology at hand. I appreciated the analogy.

  The carriage pulled to a jangling halt. Footmen scrambled from the front door. A turmoil of bowing, opening doors and respectful hushed greetings swirled around me as I stretched my legs in blessed arrival. Jasper, Colm, Laswell, and Jenkins hastened forward to sweep my suite for any suspicious nastiness. My highly developed sense of caution demanded appeasement.

  Keith’s butler Anders appeared in his remembered stately grace, a perfect cliché of a well-mannered, efficient butler. I smiled in remembrance. I swore the regal man emerged from the womb and sternly scolded his mother about the dreadful mess she created in birthing him.

  Anders walked forward. He bowed enough to act respectful but no more. Grand style. “My esteemed Prince Linden, how delightful to see you after all these years. We have missed your royal grace at the manor.”

  “It feels fine to return, Anders. I look forward to a lovely, relaxing holiday in this fair place.” I followed him into the ornate, tall foyer hall and smiled in recognition. The strong sun captured the upper clock tower’s swirling stained glass. Gleeful colors sprinkled across the stern gray stone walls until the black marble floor consumed their light. Dazzling. The bright spectacle already made me feel welcome.

  My trunks bobbed past along with my bags. I chuckled to see my two travel trunks seemingly sprout legs. “Still running splendidly as always, eh, Anders?”

  Raised voices echoing from the left interrupted Anders’s quiet reply. Clearly scornful words violated the air. “You annoying bore, I am ready but he’s hours early! At least let me button my jacket!” Ha, someone owned a saucy attitude!

  I heard Anders’s scolding sniff and glanced at him. His right brow twitched in aggravation. His lips thinned into deadly sharpness, ready to rip out a servant’s unruly soul. “Excuse me, my Prince, there seems to be….”

  A slight young man dressed in a stylish black suit, not the normal dull rust livery, hastened from the left into the foyer, agitation palpable in his abrupt arrival. He rapidly buttoned his knee-length frock coat over his black and silver embroidered vest, adjusted his jacket, looked up, and froze in complete dismay before he regained his composure and stare
d at the floor. Hair curtained his face. His melodic voice—ah, what an interesting accent—emerged in breathless contrition. “A thousand pardons, Mr. Anders, erm, my esteemed Prince. Forgive my shameful tardiness and unseemly behavior. Please forgive me. Please.” The young man bowed so low I feared for his balance. He straightened back up. Two more steps. Hesitation. He halted and bowed his slight form in a fresh dire tip. His petite stature allowed his long black hair to sweep the ebony marble floor. The two black hues swallowed each other.

  Quite a lively arrival! My calming laugh crashed against the unwelcome tension. “Please, young man, no need to fret. Do cease the relentless bowing. Your constant up and down motion renders me quite dizzy.” Please cease since I needed to see the fair face again and confirm my amazement.

  The young man looked up in relief. “Yes, my gracious Prince. My apologies.” The words emerged from lips set in a high-cheekboned face tinted a burnished sienna. Delicate violet swirls started at his right temple and fluttered down his skin to his chin before winding around his neck. The languid swirls imitated wild Nerdean canyon rose canes, sinuous, graceful and deadly to the casual trespasser. The hunting canes hooked, collected and suffocated until the carnivorous blooms fed on flesh. Since the roses sprang from old magic, they resisted all known modern pesticides.

  Just as I thought; there stood a Southern Totandia Elf of the ruling rank. The violet canes told me the Elf's startlingly high rank. Up North we seldom saw Totandians. Their ancient race hid in the deep Nerdean canyon lands edging against the inhospitable South Inatoli Desert. They believed in nature’s rule and nothing else, so they challenged modern thinking. In the past my ruthless family ferreted them out from the country with lethal efficiency, not trusting their subtle magics and strange, secret culture. After nearly destroying the race, our country regarded them as handy slave fodder since they were delicate in stature plus they acted docile and non-violent. My scholarly heart regretted the destruction of such a mysterious race.

  Still, the male’s features looked distinctly human, especially in the strong cheekbones and firm chin. As I recalled, pure Elves displayed a narrow face and extremely pointed chin shape. No hint of the uniquely slanted Totandian eye structure met my examination, but his eyes displayed the unusual violet color befitting his noble rank. The robust coppery skin hue screamed Elf, yet his long, narrow nose appeared too pronounced for an Elf’s. Definitely an exotic Halfling, rare to see.

  Even more curious something about the refined features sparked a hazy memory in my mind. How odd.

  Another deep bow almost followed before the male conquered his instinct. He respectfully inclined his head. His curly mane drifted around his smooth face. “I am Alasdaire, my esteemed Prince, and during your visit here my duty is to serve you to my full ability.”

  To my surprise Anders huffed in quiet but pointed annoyance. Coming from him the sound counted as a cruel slap across the young man’s face. “Yes, my Prince, since he knew you traveled sans your normal staff, Lord Keith arranged for Alasdaire to be your personal slave; that is, if you approve of allowing a common slave to serve you.”

  Powers on High, I could have ice skated on Anders’s last words. I disliked how Anders emphasized the slave aspect. A hidden story lurked here. But I certainly wanted to give the unusual beauty a chance, especially since I understood what Alasdaire meant by serving me. Keith remembered my fondness for fascinating young men, and this mesmerizing creature defined exotic. My words embraced sheer good will. “How lovely, yes, I heartily approve of my cousin’s special choice for me. So, Anders, feel confident to leave me in Alasdaire’s skilled company.” I smiled at the watchful young Halfling. He quickly dropped his chin toward the floor. Hmm, no mutual flirtation from a pleasure slave? Why?

  “Very good, my Prince. If this particular slave is not to your liking, please let me know immediately so I can correct the staffing error. Above all I desire your complete satisfaction.” Anders shot Alasdaire a deadly glare before he bowed and left us. Around us bustling footmen finished carrying my belongings up the grand staircase. I wondered why Anders disliked this glorious beauty? Ah, sadly, the prejudice against Elves ran strong in many men’s hearts; obviously Anders despised this Halfling. Such ill behavior from the normally stoic head butler bothered me. Well, Anders was Keith’s servant, so I owned no say in the matter.

  The insulted Alasdaire briefly frowned after Anders’s retreating back before he controlled his temper. He inclined his head in further silent apology before he gazed up at me. His violet eyes were remarkably blank. His inner passion vanished with impressive speed. “My Prince, time to create today’s schedule. Lord Keith and his guests currently attend Lord Lazio’s grand picnic. Do you want to…?”

  I held up my hand in halt. “Please, absolutely not, Alasdaire. I wish to enjoy a light lunch, a not so light drink, then a bath. Perhaps I shall embrace slothful behavior and indulge in a nap!” Ahh, the thought thrilled my aching body. I swore the last war destroyed my stalwart constitution, since before this past week a carriage ride never defeated my body. It felt suspicious. I knew no one had poisoned me; the small amount of toranada root I ingested each morning guaranteed protection from common poisons.

  “Of course, my noble Prince, I shall arrange for your supreme comfort.” Alasdaire signaled to four watching young pages. They bowed and scurried off in different directions. Next he gracefully gestured forward. “Please follow me to your suite. My Prince, I trust you enjoyed a pleasant journey from Rahalda? I understand the weather embraced calm, sunny conditions, unlike the recent unruly storms.”

  “Pleasant enough, Alasdaire, although it was a long journey. Five days of carriage travel taxed my old body.” At least the young slave chatted with me. Normally everyone acted dumbstruck around this so-called mighty Prince. Still, the beauty’s words felt mechanical and rehearsed, merely a pleasure slave’s trained interest. But I sensed this male’s uniqueness. I wondered how many times Alasdaire entertained Keith’s guests? Did he despise his house concubine status? Hmm. Usually the pretty young men in such positions were well-treated and even pampered, since they supplied the master or mistress discrete pleasure. Judging by how basely Anders treated him, this manor did not regard Alasdaire as special. Foolish of them. I certainly looked forward to enjoying this young creature blessed with the legendary charms of Totandian blood.

  My self-pitying sigh made me sound in need of comfort. “I confess I feel battered as an old boot.”

  “Now you can relax. You will be pleased to hear fresh weather graces us, Prince. The worst summer storms passed on their way East. You will enjoy a lovely visit this month.” Alasdaire mounted the carved staircase.

  My new companion ignored my baiting words. He wasn’t prone to abject fawning, a trait I admired in a man. I followed Alasdaire, taking the opportunity to admire his knee-high pearl button boots. The supple black leather sculpted his shins into delicious fullness. We traveled down the long hall lined with legions of dour, deceased ancestors until we reached the far tower. Alasdaire halted and remembered not to bow. “Here is your usual suite, my Prince.”

  “Yes indeed, I remember this suite well.”

  Jenkins saluted me. “All clear, Prince. Will Colm and I be sufficient for the first watch?”

  “Yes, that’s fine, Jenkins. Locate chairs so you can guard in comfort. I don’t think anyone will try and ambush me here.”

  A smile softened Jenkins’s sharp features. “One never knows, eh, Prince? But yes, thank you, chairs would be splendid.”

  Alasdaire stared at the two powerful guards in surprise, then his face assumed his professional demeanor. A glance into the dressing room lurking beyond the large bedroom revealed my trunks were opened and much of my apparel already settled into drawers and closets. Nothing like efficiency! I nodded to two flushed pages who bowed and quickly resumed their tasks, although the younger lad fumbled and dropped a shirt. A shame how everyone acted so flustered when I entered a room. Quite tedious. Unlike my insane
brother, I never beheaded anyone for a simple mistake.

  I paused and sighed in pleasure. Sprawling mountains, tinted in dark grays and purples, dominated the scene. “The view is staggering, so wild and free.”

  “Indeed it is, Prince. Before dusk the sunset illuminates this suite in audacious colors, like you said, so wild and free. If no one resides here and I am unoccupied, I slip in and experience the wonder. Sometimes I stare toward the west and wish I saw what dwells beyond the mountains. How foolish. I know it is impractical and ridiculous for a mere slave to imagine freedom.”

  Really? Those revealing words made me arch my brows at the young man, but Alasdaire had already turned back to the bedroom to scold the pages over their clumsy handling of my clothing. Fine, let him pull rank. I took advantage of his absence and murmured my personal ward reactivation spell. Ah, splendid, no one ruined my spell signature. This suite guaranteed me safe haven. I trusted Keith as much as I trusted anyone, but with so many guests milling around, better to feel secure. Magic was outlawed but many people still understood its allure and power. I held no qualms about using added protection.

  Alasdaire directed the arriving pages to set laden trays and bottles, resting in ice buckets, on the window side table in the large sitting room. He twisted toward me and smiled in sterile civility. “Does this light meal look suitable, Prince?” Alasdaire uncovered two silver trays supporting plates and bowls containing thickly sliced meats, cheeses, olives, herbed bread, three interesting vegetable salads and a fruit bowl.