Nyssa (Goddess of War Series Book 1) Read online

  As I scanned the room, my eyes fell on the huge, four-poster bed. Its posts were each carved in depictions of animals: one was a cat and another a dragon, and the other two looked to be a unicorn and a bird of some sort. The carvings twisted up toward the ceiling, and where they tapered off at the top a canopy was affixed. It was predictably blood-red and fell down to the floor in thick swathes, tied elegantly back by black satin ropes. The bed was dressed in thick red and black fabrics and pillows. I looked hurriedly away, blushing. I did not want to see this man’s bed, especially after my conversation with the General.

  My eyes finally took in a large, beautiful, wooden, carved desk, neatly covered by papers and a quill and ink pot. The man from the dais in the great hall sat behind the desk. Lord Odyn was even more terrible and even more beautiful in this sensual setting. He had removed the top layer of his armour and was wearing a black under shirt with long sleeves and a lace-up neck that had been left with the laces casually open, exposing his pale neck right down to the tightness of his finely sculpted chest muscles. My breath caught for a moment as I felt something stir inside me, and as quickly as the feeling came it was replaced by an innate hatred directed at this beast who had torn my family apart. I remembered myself and tried to stand in a manly way, hardening the look on my face while being careful not to pout like a girl.

  “What is your name boy?” His voice did not echo in this intimate setting as it had done in the great hall. It still held the same authority but it was also low and husky, and carried with it a sensuality that mirrored the scent from the spice burners on the walls. It stunned me into an uncertain silence for a split second, and then my eyes flickered sideways to where Roeseer stood next to me, serene and respectful with hands clasped behind his back. He gave me a quick nod of encouragement, his eyes widening imperceptibly, and I turned back to the demon behind the desk and answered him as my brother. “My name is Haydyn Chyme, my lord” I looked into those deep, black eyes as I answered him with a look I think was a mixture of awe and defiance.

  He looked long and hard at me, and the silence drew out so long, it became uncomfortable. I shifted from one foot to another, but I held his gaze. If I could only persuade myself I wasn’t afraid of him, then perhaps it might just be true. Either that or I would completely lose my soul inside the darkness of his eyes. I thought his nickname suited him very well as I stared into the empty voids that studied me so intently.

  “What do you intend to do with Haydyn Chyme, Astarin?”

  When he spoke, I almost flinched as he broke the stillness of the room, like he was breaking a magic spell.

  He looked away from me and toward the General as he spoke, and I felt relief flood over me.

  “The boy comes from a bakery in Lyte Harbour, and the food there is quite delicious. I had considered that perhaps he may be better suited to the castle kitchens than the battlefield.” Astarin spoke casually but with absolute respect. I noticed that he did not address Lord Odyn by his title. I imagined they must be very close friends as well as comrades if he were permitted to hold back from addressing his lord with his full title.

  “Woman’s work.” Lord Odyn cut in, scornfully. “I need soldiers, Ast, not kitchen maids. Although he’s almost pretty enough to steal from the kitchens for a night.” His eyes glinted wickedly at his jest. He leaned back in his gilt chair with a wry smile so small it was hard to tell if it was really there.

  It was not uncommon for women to be taken by the Valhars of all five states to warm their beds. These women were known as mistresses, and some families groomed their daughters all of their lives, teaching them dancing, flirting, the arts and graces before presenting them at the court of their state Valhar, hoping to catch his eye. These women were traditionally treated exceptionally well and showered in gifts both for themselves and their family. If a pretty kitchen maid caught a Valhar’s eye, then he would take her to his bed just as easily as a girl who had been born to be gifted to him. However, their attentions and favour were usually short-lived as all Valhar’s would eventually settle on one woman and make her his wife.

  Each of the five Valhars needed to marry, and produce male heirs to strengthen his claim to the throne of Ankh Shdaar. No one wanted to lose a king and a dynasty all over again once the war was settled by a victor, and they would choose their victor carefully, not just by his strength but by his capacity to leave behind a solid inheritance after his death. Once this devastating war was over, the entire kingdom hoped for eternal peace and would not want to take a chance on rallying behind the wrong king.

  For as casual as Lord Odyn’s words were, they sent a shiver down my spine as he was just a little too close to the truth for comfort. I thought I sensed a shift from the General next to me as he smiled grimly at his lord’s humour, and we both focussed back on the man who would either kill me or keep me.

  “No, the kitchens are no place for you, Haydyn Chyme. How old are you, boy?” I cringed inside as he threw the question at me. I hadn’t thought this part through. Although Haydyn and myself looked alike, I was ten years older than him and I didn’t know if I could get away with being eighteen years old and a man. My mind ran through the possible answers, desperately wondering which was the safest option. I could feel the General tense next to me and knew that I was taking too long to reply. In a frantic rush, I blurted out the words. “Twenty-five, my lord” hoping that the compromise between our ages would be the right reply.

  “Ahh, you are still young, boy.” Lord Odyn stood up from his chair and walked around his desk, stopping to lean his lithe body against the front of it. He was tall and godlike, and I felt very small standing in front of him this way. “I was sixteen when I tasted my first proper battle. I was wet behind the ears, a green boy who spent the whole fight wishing I could run back home to hide behind my mother’s skirts. I probably deserved to die on that battlefield. But I didn’t. Every battle I have been a part of has made me who I am today. I am thirty-four years old now, boy. I have been fighting for almost twenty years and I’m not done yet.” He paused and looked over at General Roeseer, narrowing his eyes. “I believe the last time we scouted Lyte Harbour was five years ago, just before the Battle of the Weeping Stones?” His gaze held that of the General’s, and I felt that something was wrong, but I didn’t know what.

  “Yes, it would have been around five years since we last scouted the coast.” Roeseer replied as something like realisation dawned in his eyes.

  Lord Odyn suddenly stepped forward with an unnatural speed. Like a striking viper, he stopped mere inches away from me. “Tell me, Ast?” He didn’t break his gaze from mine as he continued. “How was it that you missed a twenty-year old boy, ripe for battle training five years ago when you were scouting at Lyte Harbour last?”

  My heart sank as I realised my mistake. I had the times all wrong, and now he would know that I was lying, or he would know that General Roeseer had failed him. I felt a strange urge to protect the General. I think perhaps because he had tried to protect me. Roeseer opened his mouth to speak, but before he had a chance, I found myself addressing Lord Odyn, pinned by his black gaze. “He didn’t miss me. I was away from Lyte Harbour working in Fress five years ago.” I stopped speaking and then quickly added, “my lord.” I hoped with all my heart they hadn’t scouted Fress in the North of the state at the same time.

  A look of surprise mixed with, admiration possibly, rippled across the General’s face, and Lord Odyn took a small step back from me. What looked like the start of a smile touched the corners of his mouth for a brief instant, but before I was even sure it was there, it was gone. “Well, you belong to me now, boy.” His voice had changed, somehow getting even lower in tone. It sounded soft and soothing. I started to relax again, and I could feel General Roeseer relax next to me. “That will be all for now. You’re dismissed.” He returned to his seat behind the desk, calmly lowering himself into the chair and leaning back comfortably.

  I turned to leave, and after offering his lord a nod of respec
t, the General turned to follow me. Our eyes met briefly with a look of shared relief. He placed his hand on the door and, started to turn the handle.

  “Wait.” Lord Odyn’s voice was dangerously low, and we both turned slowly back to face him. Fear twisted in my stomach like a knot of ice as I waited to hear what he would say next. I thought I heard the General curse softly under his breath.

  “You are here to serve me Haydyn Chyme. Is that not so?” His voice was clear and commanding.

  “Y-Yes my lord.” I managed to reply

  “And you would do anything for your lord and commander, would you not?”

  Where was he going with this I wondered? “Yes, my lord.” I repeated.

  General Roeseer looked like he was about to step forward and speak, but Lord Odyn cut him off as his voice cut through the tension of the room like a knife. “Then remove your hat and unbind your hair, girl.”

  Even if I wanted to try and deny the accusation, the words wouldn’t come, and the look of shock on my face as every drop of blood drained from it was enough to give me away. I stood, unmoving, locked in place and trembling, knowing that it was only a matter of time until a guard was dispatched to Lyte Harbour to collect the real Haydyn Chyme. My fear for myself paled into nothing as I fretted about what they would do with my brother, and if they would hurt my mother. I had to tell him it wasn’t their fault. If he could just read the letter I left them he would know they had nothing to do with it. Maybe he wouldn’t hurt them if he just knew the truth.

  He rose from the desk and crossed the room in three terrible strides, his boots sounding loud against the stone floor even through the lush rugs covering them. He stopped in front of me once more, and I tilted my head back to look up to his face. I wanted to look away, but his wrath was beautiful to behold in a sinister and frightening way. “Do you defy me, girl?” He was so close, I could smell the scent of him. He smelled like the chocolatey spice of the room but with hints of something else, he smelled like a man should, strong and warm and tempting in such a way I almost had to stop myself from leaning in to him to overwhelm my senses with his flavour.

  The General was stone faced and silent as I put my hands up to my head and lifted my brother’s cap off. I looked for somewhere to put it down, and I felt the General close his hand over the material and gently take it from me. I shot a look of gratitude toward him and then turned back to face the Keshkana. He was watching me expectantly, as a cat might watch a mouse that it has wounded but released so it can continue its play.

  I lifted my hands back up to the tie that held my hair in place, and as I tugged gently on the band, my copper-gold locks tumbled unbound around my shoulders and down my back to my waist. Even with the dirt from the road covering my face and body, I knew that there was no way I could deny what I was any longer. I stood before the man who had killed my father and waited for whatever would come next.

  He inhaled a deep breath as my secret unwound before him, and before I knew what was happening, he had reached toward me and taken a lock of my hair in his fingers, rubbing the copper strands between his thumb and index finger as he stared at me. I stared back; there was nothing else to do as time stretched out endlessly.

  Just as I was about to speak up to try to plead my case and ask him not to punish my brother, he spoke. “You’re filthy. You need to be cleaned up, and then maybe, you might be fit for some purpose. What’s your name, girl?”

  I bit down on the retort that came unbidden to my lips at his insult. How dare he call me filthy when his men dragged me from my village across the country, and I wasn’t even given time to wash myself before I was hauled here to be insulted. I caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye and noticed the General shake his head, with just the tiniest movement. He was warning me to shut up, I realised. How does he know me so well? I wondered to myself before I turned my attention back to Lord Odyn and answered him. “Nyssa Chyme, my lord.”

  “Ah, so you’re here in place of your brother? Is that right, Nyssa?” I would swear that for just a split second a look passed through his eyes I would have called sadness on any other face. The way he said my name sent a spike of heat to my face, and I blushed involuntarily before I answered simply. “Yes, my lord.” My eyes dropped to the floor as I spoke, knowing that Haydyn was now in danger— probably much greater than he was before.

  Letting my hair fall, Lord Odyn turned to his friend and General, his face hard once more. “I can’t believe she deceived you, Astarin.” He paused and then said. “Take her to Bernhardt for now. He’ll provide her with chambers and clothing. Once you deliver her return to me, you and I have matters of war to discuss.”

  The General looked visibly relieved at that and nodded his head. “I will return shortly.” After dipping his head again in a quick bow to his lord, (apparently not all courtesy was off the cards between them) Roeseer gestured to me to leave.

  As we reached the door and this time actually managed to open it, Lord Odyn called out one final time. “Girl?”

  I stopped and turned back to face him.

  “Do you remember what I said back there in the Great Hall?”

  I frantically tried to recall everything that he had said to me. Did he want me to recite it word for word to prove I had been listening? Was this a test? One thing this brief meeting with the Keshkana had taught me was to never underestimate him or expect to know what he was thinking.

  He put me out of my misery then, and what he said sent a shiver down my spine. “After today you belong to me, until the day you die.” And with a flick of his wrist, we were dismissed. How I managed to stumble my way from his chamber and into the blessed cool of the castle corridor I would never know, but a tiny part of me registered it probably wasn’t without a little help from Astarin Roeseer.

  As the armoured guard outside the chamber closed the door behind us, he blocked out the sight of Lord Odyn, seated behind his desk once more, studying a manuscript opened out in front of him. I turned to the General and said simply. “I’m sorry.”

  He frowned at me and took me gently by the arm. “You are apologising to me? You’re a very unusual woman, Nyssa.” And then, louder this time, he said, “Come? I will take you to Bernhardt.”

  As we walked, I glanced at him through the tangle of my now untied hair and asked him, “Where are we going, and who is Bernhardt?”

  Placing his hand at the small of my back, to guide me in the right direction, he replied, “He is a very loyal servant.” Then after a pause he said, “No that’s the wrong word. He is a friend to Lord Odyn, and to myself. He has known us both a long time, and he is one of the kindest people you will meet here in the capital. He won’t hurt you, Nyssa.”

  I thought that through for a brief moment, before responding. “No, he won’t hurt me. He’ll just keep me captive for his ‘friend’ until Lord Odyn decides that he wants to hurt me, and then he’ll hand me over.”

  He kept walking, his eyes focussed ahead as he replied, “If Odyn wants a war council with me, then something must have happened while I was away. If that’s the case, then he will be far too busy to concern himself with you right away. This will buy you some time, and that is the best I can do right now. If nothing else, Bernhardt will get you a bath, feed you, and dress you in something a little more appropriate.”

  I looked down at myself and cringed. That was the second time today I’d had my appearance questioned, and I became acutely aware of how travel dirty I was. My clothes were covered in road dust, and my hair was tangled. I guessed my face was filthy, and I probably didn’t smell so great either. I also realised just how overwhelmingly tired I was. A bath and some food wouldn’t be such a bad thing right now.

  The General stopped so suddenly, I almost tripped in my haste to do the same. He turned to a non-descript wooden door and knocked twice. I stood silently, waiting to see who would answer, and when the door was pulled back, I was delighted to see a wizened old face peeking back at us. Bernhardt must have been eighty, if he wa
s a day, and his face was so sun-darkened he looked like a walnut with watery blue eyes. He was simply clothed in a rough spun, ankle-length brown tunic and leather sandals, almost making him look like the religious brethren who maintained the temples to the god and goddess. You would never guess he was a “friend” of the greatest man in the state at a first glance.

  His ancient eyes lit up when he saw Roeseer. “Ahh, Astarin my boy, you have returned to us. Good news, good news,” he chirped merrily. Then as he took in my face, half shielded by the impressive stature of the General, his eyes became tinged with sadness. “And who have we here?” I started to answer but Roeseer cut me off before I could lift my voice to speak. “This is Nyssa. Can you find her some suitable chambers and get her cleaned up and fed please, Bernhardt? It is at the lord’s request.”

  At that, the sadness in the old man’s eyes deepened for a fraction of a moment, and then he smiled at me and offered his hand. “Come, sweet girl, let us get you comfortable.” As he tugged me along after him, with his surprisingly strong grip for one so aged, I turned my head back to look questioningly at the General. He nodded at me, and with a heavy sigh turned to walk back the way we had come, to return and attend his Keshkana. His lord who was touched by death. In a swirl of blood-red cloak, he disappeared around the corner, and I felt thoroughly lost and alone again.

  Astarin