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  Bravura

  The Woman King Book 2

  Sara Kingsley

  Blue Fern Books

  Copyright © 2017 by Sara Kingsley

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Blue Fern Books

  PO Box 54198

  Mana 5247

  New Zealand

  ISBN: 978-0-473-42411-4 (paperback)

  ISBN: 978-0-473-42412-1 (epub)

  ISBN: 978-0-473-42413-8 (kindle)

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the

  National Library of New Zealand

  Cover design by Najla Qamber Designs

  For my daughters … I’ll love you forever.

  To be meek, patient, tactful, modest, honorable, brave, is not to be either manly or womanly; it is to be humane.

  —Jane Harrison

  Chapter 1

  “Would you like some more, m’lady?”

  A nearby voice startles me out of my daydream. I look over at Leif, who is holding the decanter of wine. He’s already refilled his glass. “Yes, please.”

  He reaches over, tips the rose-colored liquid into mine. “That’s enough, thank you.” I smile at him and accept the fistful of grapes he’s offering. He places the half-empty decanter on the table between us, set with our afternoon tea.

  I hold my glass out toward him, and he clicks his own against it. “To you and me,” I say, what’s become our standard salutation.

  “To you and me,” he repeats. We each take a small sip.

  We settle back into our cushioned lounges and gaze toward the shimmering turquoise sea that surrounds my new island home of Nuimana. The springtime sun is blazing, but with the light breeze blowing onshore and shade from the trees, Leif and I are both cool and content. Not to mention there’s an attendant with a large fan right behind me, ready to use it if I say the word.

  I’m still not used to all this pampering, even though it’s been over six months since I accepted the crown and claimed Fortissima as mine—the sword every Woman King of Nadir has carried, until a thousand years ago when the Quelline regime decreed firstborn daughters be put to death. Six months since the Nuimanians accepted me.

  My time here has not all been spent lounging around like this; Governor Sufa and I have spent many hours going over my new responsibilities. I hadn’t been prepared for so much planning and decision-making: about crops, imports, water conservation, and more. Thankfully, Sufa continues to advise me, although I do have the final say. But he’s not getting any younger, and one day I’ll shoulder the fate of all the people of Nuimana.

  To say the thought terrifies me would be a drastic understatement.

  “How did your meeting go with Sufa this morning?” Leif asks. “You look exhausted. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

  I shrug. “I am exhausted. But don’t worry—I needed you to go check on the water reservoirs. Although, now I do wish you’d been at our meeting. Our supply situation is not looking good.”

  King Araroa of Nadir—my blood father, who wishes I were dead and no longer a threat to his rule of my old kingdom—quickly received word of my coronation. Since then, he’s been attempting to cut off shipments to Nuimana. Thankfully, he hasn’t completely succeeded, and ships continue to stop in, dropping off food and other goods from the kingdom’s port, and taking with them Nuimana’s wine, fruit, baskets, and carvings. But Araroa has gotten word of this, and he has severely restricted sailing of any kind unless a ship can unequivocally prove it has not come anywhere near our small island that lies well south of Nadir.

  Still, the ships have continued to arrive. I’m grateful—we all are—for the cheeses and flour, the rice and potatoes, and other food that cannot grow in our poor, salty soil. The elders enjoy Leif’s father’s spirits as well. Sure, we’d be fine without these things. Nuimana is rich in fruits, and the fishing is plentiful.

  But what I need most are the letters from home. The words passed forth to me in secret from Baldachin, the treevillage where I grew up. Letters from my friend Tui, and Mum and Papa. And, of course, Miss Lilith, my godmother. If they could no longer get delivered to me—proof that my family and dear friends remain safe—I don’t know how I’d manage.

  “When do you think the next ship will arrive?” Leif plucks a bit of cheese off the platter. “This is the last, isn’t it?” He holds the piece out to me.

  I shake my head, motioning for him to eat it. “It is. But you know that’s not what I’m really worried about.” I bite a grape off the vine I’m still holding. At least we’ve got plenty of these in Nuimana, a special variety bred to withstand the harsh soil, good for both eating and winemaking.

  Leif turns toward me. His face is solemn. “I do know that. When was the last time you had word from anyone?”

  I shake my head, and sigh. “It’s been weeks.”

  “But everything was fine the last you heard, right?”

  “Yes. The last letter was from Tui. He wrote that nothing seemed to be happening. Catriona had recently returned from a trip to the Bastion, and she reported that all was as usual. Everyone in the capital was still as miserable as ever, that sort of thing. Araroa had not taken any actions other than limiting shipping permits. Anyway, I expect a ship to stop in any day. I hope.”

  Leif swings his long legs off the chaise and reaches over, taking my hand in his. Even now, after all these months, the sensation causes a thrill to shoot up my spine. And as always, for me to momentarily forget what it is we’re talking about.

  He looks me in the face; his is sincere, emerald eyes warm with affection. “The ship will come. And it will bring good news, I know it.” His mouth curls into a mischievous grin. “And more cheese, if we’re lucky.”

  He’d better be right. I’ve got to know that everyone is safe back home in Nadir. Or not. Either option is better than being in the dark, as I am now.

  I take another sip of wine and look back out across the sea.

  Later that night, Leif and I dine with Sufa and his wife, Marina, as is our usual custom. The table is set upon the dais overlooking the western shore of the island. The sun has just disappeared behind the horizon, leaving a soft golden glow.

  A piece of honey-blond hair has fallen onto Leif’s cheek, and I can’t help reaching over and tucking it behind his ear. He grins, grabbing my hand and placing a soft kiss upon the back of it. “You look ravishing in this light,” he whispers. He doesn’t let go of my hand, placing both of ours into his lap.

  “And I was going to tell you the same,” I whisper back.

  Sufa coughs. The servers enter with the main course. After they finish placing the chilled soup bowls before us, Leif and I turn our attention back to our company.

  Leif fills Sufa in on the water reservoir situation; it’s not good. The reservoirs are very low, and everyone must take extreme care in their water usage until the reservoirs fill again. But early summer, when the rains are due to begin, is still months away. Leif suggests we dole out only enough to each family for their drinking and cooking needs. Everything else—bathing and washing—will need to be done in the salty seawater. That, we have plenty of.

  “Perhaps we should put guards near the reservoirs, to keep track of how much water each is taking,” Sufa suggests.

  Leif doesn’t answer but looks toward me. Waiting for my decision.

  I consider what I would want if I were a common resident of Nuimana. As a mother taking care of her family, both elders and little ones. I would want to make my own decisions. Not have anything doled out to me.

  I sit up a b
it straighter. “We’ll let the residents monitor their own usage. What I will do is visit each village and explain why it’s vital to conserve our freshwater reserves. Surely the people will understand. Nobody wants to be without water to drink, that I am certain of.”

  Sufa smiles at me, nodding his head. “Yes, m’lady Raven. I think that will work.”

  Leif squeezes my hand, still on his lap underneath the table. I’m not looking at him, but I’m sure he’s smiling too.

  When darkness falls, we return to our rooms for sleep. I’ve been given a private house separate from the rest of the government compound. Leif, ever the gentleman, has taken a small room in the main house. He never sleeps there. But he always returns to his room before dawn so as not to alert Sufa and Marina.

  Marina helps me prepare for bed in the evenings. I’ve told her that I can get myself ready, but she insists. I do like her company, truth be told. Her own children are grown and live in a village a few hours away, so she doesn’t get to see them as often as she likes. I think she enjoys mothering me in their place. I don’t mind. But sometimes it makes me miss my own mum. Too much.

  Tonight she’s helped me unwrap my dress and replace it with a breezy nightgown. I sit on a stool near the window and look out while she brushes out my hair. The sky is completely clear, almost solid with stars. Not a rain cloud in sight. A bead of sweat drips down my forehead. As summer approaches, each day is hotter than the one before it.

  Marina finishes the brushing and then pauses before she begins to braid. “Shall I put a few small braids around your face, m’lady? And leave the rest down? I know that’s how your Leif likes it.”

  I’m glad the room is lit only by one small lamp so she can’t see how red my cheeks are from her words. “Oh—but it will be all messed up by morning anyway,” I blurt out.

  Marina pats my shoulder and chuckles. “It’s okay, m’lady. I know your lover visits you each night. I think it’s quite darling how coy he is about it.” I turn around and look up at her face. She winks at me. Smiling warmly.

  I wipe the beads of perspiration from my brow, these not due to the heat of the night air. “It’s not like that. Not at all. He’s not my lover—I mean, I love him, but it’s not like that. He says he doesn’t want to—you know—until we can be married. I don’t know …” It’s a conversation Leif and I have had over and over. He says he’s ready to marry me at any moment. Tomorrow. All I need to do is say yes. But I tell him the same thing each time: I’m only seventeen and he’s only eighteen. Besides—being married to me would make him a criminal. If we left Nuimana, that is, and went back to Nadir. We’d both be wanted for treason then.

  But the people here on our distant, idyllic island appear to accept our relationship just fine. Leif tells me that we don’t need to leave, ever. We should get married, work together to lead the people of Nuimana. Sometimes this sounds perfect. Everybody loves Leif. But I can’t get rid of the feeling that, someday, I’ll have to leave our island. Besides, I still can’t stomach the idea of never seeing my family again.

  Marina gently takes a swath of hair from my face and begins braiding. “No, really, my dear. Either way, it’s of no consequence to Sufa and I. You lovebirds should spend as much time together as you can. You are only young once …” Her voice takes on a dreamy tone as she is overtaken by memories. She braids in silence for a minute. “Anyway. When you two are married, it will be even better for you.”

  “I don’t think we’re going to be married. Not for a long time.”

  She takes up strands of hair from the other side of my face and begins braiding those. “Oh? And why not? You and Leif adore each other. But I remember. Yes, marriage is a frightening thing for any girl.”

  “It’s not frightening. It’s—” I struggle to articulate in words why it is that Leif and I can’t be married. At least, not yet. “It’s just too dangerous,” I say at last.

  Marina coils the two side braids behind my head before she replies. “Not here—it’s not dangerous for you two on Nuimana. You don’t ever have to leave, Raven. This will always be your home”—she pauses, securing the coiled braids with a pin—“if you so choose it to be.”

  I turn around and smile up at her. Marina is still looking at me warmly, her deep-brown eyes twinkling. She smooths my dark hair, which tumbles down my back.

  “Thank you, Marina.” I wish I could tell her that Nuimana is my home now. That Baldachin and Nadir are long ago, and far away. But that would be a lie, and I couldn’t do that to her.

  There is a soft knock on my door only a few minutes after Marina departs for the night.

  “Who is it?” I call out coyly. The door opens just a crack.

  “’Tis your fiancé-to-be.” Leif’s low, sultry voice fills my dark room.

  “You can come in, but only if you behave yourself.” Leif slips through the door, then closes it behind him. Padding into the room on bare feet, he’s got me in his arms within seconds, breathing in the scent of my hair. We’re standing near the verandah doors, wide open to the soft night breeze. We are lit only by starlight. I was just starting to cool off, but that’s definitely not going to continue.

  Leif picks me up and starts to carry me over to my bed.

  “Put me down!” I try to sound angry, but I can’t help laughing. Holding me with one hand, Leif uses the other to push the billowy netting aside and then tosses me onto the bed through the opening. He crawls in, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it aside. The next thing I know, he’s kissing the edge of my jaw. Licking the beads of sweat that are running down my neck. My body feels like sparks are going off inside.

  “I’ve waited all day for this,” he moans. I grab his head between my hands and kiss him right on the mouth. He tastes of peppermint. And smoke.

  I push him away, just far enough so I can see his face. All of his golden hair has come loose, and I push the damp strands from his eyes. “You’ve been talking with Sufa, haven’t you?”

  One corner of his mouth turns up, a half grin. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”

  I shake my head and place a quick kiss on his tanned nose. “You taste like Sufa’s tobacco.”

  Leif’s mouth erupts into a huge smile. He rolls over onto his side, so there’s air between us once more. “You got me.” He winks. I shift onto my side too so I can look right at him.

  “Let me guess: Sufa wanted to know when you were going to ask me to marry you. And he let on, slyly, of course, that he and Marina know you come here every night.”

  His eyes go wide. “How did you know all that?”

  “Because Marina asked me the same thing.”

  He nods, considering what to say next. But it’s only a single word. “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “Well, when are we going to get married? You said yourself that you could see us together … with a little family … one day.” He grasps my hands within his and kisses them. “It’s all I want. To serve you in the highest way I possibly know. As your husband. I know I’m not born of royalty. But that doesn’t matter here. Sufa says you can marry anyone you want on Nuimana. Maybe not in Nadir, but … we’ll probably never go back there again anyway.”

  Even in the dark, I can see his eyes shining with intensity. His words are earnest, and my heart is screaming out yes, yes, yes. But my mouth responds differently.

  “I can’t, Leif. Not yet. I’ve told you—if we did have to go back to Nadir, you’d be considered a traitor if you were my husband. I just … I can’t put you in that position. I’d die if anything happened to you because of … me.”

  Leif sighs. He’s heard this before. “I think it’s far too late for that. I’m a traitor to Nadir now, no matter what. But I can wait. I can. I’ll be here, with you. For when you are ready. Or not.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I know.”

  We hold each other, heat be damned. Just having him right here is enough.

  For now.

  Leif stirs, as
usual, right before dawn. He starts to climb out of my bed, but I tug him back down. “You may as well stay here. Everyone knows, it seems.” There’s no argument from him.

  The air is still cool, so he pulls me back into his arms. The embarrassment I felt yesterday when Marina told me she knew about us together at night has completely faded away. Even if it hadn’t, this is so worth it anyway. We both return to sleep until the sun is up.

  The room warms quickly with the sun’s appearance, and we’re forced out from the still, hot air confined within our netted tent. Leif stands and stretches his long arms up, gazing out at the sea from my open verandah. I can’t peel my eyes from his silky back muscles, rippling as he lowers his arms back down.

  There’s a knock at the door. “That would be Marina, to help me dress.”

  Leif looks around in panic for another way out. I’m sure he’s feeling as mortified as I am, although there’s no reason for it. I look toward the open verandah doors.

  “Good thinking.” Leif gives me a quick kiss on the mouth, then grabs his shirt and darts outside.

  I’m stunned for a few moments, grinning stupidly after him.

  Then I remember. “Come in, Marina!”

  She does as I ask, wishing me a good morning. In her arms is a new dress of a soft-green color. “I thought you might like something new. My seamstress finished this for you yesterday.” I grasp the cloth in my hands, slippery and cool.

  “It’s silk.”

  “That it is. The finest we could get our hands on. It was finished just in time too. You might like to wear something nice today. Look outside.” She indicates with her head toward the open doors. I step out onto the verandah, and my heart leaps. There, only a few miles out to sea, is a ship, white sails billowing in the steady breeze.