Radiance (Wraith Kings Book 1)(43)
Anhuset snorted. “Don’t count on it, Highness. Remember what Soté said earlier, and you’ve seen the dyers here. The amaranthine holds fast. Cloth, skin, hair. You’ll be an even more unusual color for several days.”
Brishen had once said her skin reminded him of the bitter mollusk the Kai boiled to release the dye. Ildiko raised a bright pink arm, turning it one way and then the other. Her clothing was ruined, but at least now she could brag she had color to her skin. She shrugged and tucked the broken necklace into her bodice. “Might I borrow a dry cloth, please?” she asked the dyer.
Master Soté leapt to do her bidding as if shot from a crossbow. In moments, she clutched two towels while Anhuset stood attendance, holding a spare set.
Her dip into the dye vat cut their tour short. Once dried, Ildiko apologized for the trouble and promised a fearful Master Soté that the herceges would not be angry and skin him for saddle leather just because his wife managed to tint herself pink in his dye house.
Soté was all that was polite and accommodating as he escorted her and Anhuset to where their mounts waited, but Ildiko had the distinct impression he couldn’t get rid of them fast enough. She mounted her horse, ignoring the raised eyebrows and gawking stares of the rest of their escort.
Anhuset handed her cloak to her. “You’re still damp, Highness. The cloak will keep you from getting cold.” And keep her from distracting the Kai guardsmen who’d accompanied them from Saggara to the dye house and tried not to be too obvious in their gaping at her.
Ildiko sniffed and wrapped the cloak snugly around herself. She didn’t regret her actions. They had been instinctive and careless, true, but the necklace was precious—a last gift from her mother before she died. Ildiko would have dived headfirst into a vat of boiling horse piss to retrieve it. Still, she didn’t relish the idea of her neck and arms being stained the color of young plum for a fortnight.
They travelled the main road to the manor, the young Solaris oaks silent sentinels to their passing. The trees gave way to a series of earthenworks and masonry walls that formed Saggara’s outer redoubt. Behind the barriers perched one of two stables that housed the many horses kept at Saggara and a set of barracks that provided hearth and roof for those soldiers who’d chosen not to live on the lakeshore.
Cheers, whistles, and catcalls sounded nearby. Ildiko had heard them before when she’d ventured out onto one of the balconies to admire the landscape or the pattern of stars that wheeled above her. She glanced at Anhuset. “What is that?”
Anhuset called out a command, and their party turned as one toward the sounds. She pointed to a low earthen wall on which several Kai either stood or sat and watched something beyond Ildiko’s line of sight.
They followed the curve of the wall and paused at a wide entrance that opened onto a makeshift training arena. Archers’ targets shared space alongside one wall with straw men in various states of dismemberment. Weapons of every type, from wood to steel, occupied another space. There were other contraptions as well, items that looked like they were used for training from horseback, but in the dim torchlight flickering across the arena, Ildiko could only guess at their purpose.
The cheers and shouts that drew her here were for the combatants in the middle of the arena. Nine pairs of Kai faced off against each other, each man or woman intent on grappling their opponent into submission. The men were dressed down to simple linen cloths that girded the loins and were knotted at the waist. The women wore similar clothing except for the addition of a sleeveless gambeson cut to above the navel. Quilted and layered, it protected the breasts like a padded breastplate.
Sinuous and muscular, the battling Kai reminded her of cats. The light from the torches cast the combatants in high relief. Their skin glistened with sweat as they crashed together, bent, twisted, and threw each other to the ground in multiple attempts to win the match.
Anhuset tapped Ildiko on the shoulder and pointed to one of the battling pair. “There is Brishen, Your Highness. He fights Nefiritsen. A difficult opponent to wrestle.”
Ildiko guided her horse to a better spot so she could see. Brishen and Nefiritsen were locked in a knot of arms and legs, muscles straining as they each tried to bring their opponent to the ground.
Not cats, she thought. Eels, very much alive and aggressive. They wound around each other, wavy and serpentine as if their bones had softened and stretched until they could bend and twist in a combat so supple it seemed more dance than fight and looked utterly inhuman.
Like the other Kai in the arena, Brishen wore only the linen loincloth. He’d scraped his hair back and tied it at the nape. The style highlighted the sloped almond shape of his eyes and the high curve of his cheekbones. He was shiny with sweat and streaked with dirt. A handsome man still, despite the grime.
The thought brought Ildiko up short. This wasn’t the first time she’d noted her husband’s appearance in such a way. She’d done so before three evenings past, and then she’d called him beautiful.
They had shared a bed, though they had done nothing more than sleep. Ildiko had quickly grown used to Brishen’s presence beside her, the heat of his body beneath the covers. He was a peaceful sleeper—no thrashing or sighs, no snoring. She sometimes wondered if he or any of the Kai dreamed as humans did.
After their return from High Salure and Serovek’s dinner, she’d fallen asleep as soon as Brishen ordered her under the covers. Unlike every evening prior, she’d awakened before him and discovered a man sublime in slumber.