"No, of course it won't. We'll just have more pointless deaths." Axel sighed. "And to think, with all this going on, we still have to waste seven days on a train when we could do the trip in three days in an airship."
A shout from the parade ground caught Axel's attention. A dilapidated horse cart lumbered down the well-worn road leading to the camp. He snorted. "Just as well the Norin refuse to travel under the Chenayan flag. Can you imagine our Dragon on that scrap heap?"
Stefan glanced sideways at Axel. "Anything to defy the emperor."
"The Norin happen to be very good at that." Axel picked up a spyglass from the pavilion railing to get a closer look at the princesses. Light footsteps snaking their way up the wooden stairs distracted him, and he put it back down.
A woman dressed in a floor-length white robe appeared on the platform. Her gem was a moonstone, the stone worn by all Chenayan priestesses.
Axel's heart sank. His day had just gotten worse.
Chapter 7
"Welcome, Mother Saskia," Stefan said to the white-clad woman. "The general and I are delighted to see you." He gestured to the Norin wagon. "It seems the princesses have arrived."
Axel folded his arms over his chest, grinning. Stefan welcomed Mother Saskia like the pox.
"About time, too." Mother Saskia eased an errant lock of black hair streaked with silver back into her bun. She then pulled her white veil into place over her head with white-gloved hands. Finally, she bobbed a knee at Axel. It was the closest he'd ever get to a curtsy from the Great High Priestess, spiritual mother of All Chenaya and the Conquered Territories.
He didn't like her much, either.
Chenayans-Axel excluded-worshiped the Dragon, a being of power and majesty who, it was believed, had kept the Avanovs in power for centuries. Axel knew the Dragon was nothing more than heraldry.
Saskia glided to the balustrade. "They should have been here hours ago. It's an affront to our dear Crown Prince Lukan, Dragon's blessing upon him." She picked up his spyglass and leveled it to her eye. That was presumptuous, even for her.
Axel grabbed it, wiped the eyepieces on the sleeve of his black uniform shirt and placed it back on the railing. "Mother, I wish to leave within the hour. You and the Norin had better be ready." He turned to leave.
He had only taken a few steps when Mother Saskia spoke. "That all depends on the state of the princesses, my lord. They are reputed to be a wild lot. It's doubtful they even bathe. Our crown prince and his brother deserve better than that."
Axel didn't bother to face her. "As the crown prince and his brother are a week away in Cian, I hardly think that matters. I'm sure that will give you plenty of time to correct any faults the Norin princesses may have."
"In that case, I think Mother Saskia has her work cut out for her."
Axel spun at the incredulity in Stefan's voice.
The wagon had stopped at the stable block, and Axel had a clear view of the occupants as they hopped down onto the cobblestones.
Kestrel, the shorter of the two princesses, wore a corseted, flouncy floor-length dress with a large bustle. The kind Mother Saskia would have stipulated on her list of approved attire for Chenayan women. Her bustle looked about as comfortable, and as out of place, as a barrel strapped to her backside. Still, it did nothing to detract from her beauty-if one considered Norin fair hair, fair skin, and blue eyes attractive. He generally preferred Chenayan brunettes, with their warm bronze skin and dark eyes.
Princess Lynx was anything but compliant to Chenayan dress codes. Leather trousers hugged her long, shapely legs while a hip-length leather tunic accentuated her rangy figure. Two machetes in leather scabbards were strapped to her back. Locks of silvery blond hair braided with black ostrich feathers and white beads ringed her face. The rest of her hair cascaded down her back like an icy waterfall.
Stefan's meticulous control gave way at the sight of her, dropping his jaw.
Axel smiled at him. "Those leathers certainly set her apart. No wonder Lukan's drooling for her." Axel gave a bemused head shake and then glanced over at Mother Saskia, wondering if she'd heard his comments about her precious crown prince.
She hadn't.
The Great High Priestess staggered forward, clutching her veil. "Dragon's curses," she moaned. "You cannot be serious. That . . . that feral thing with the knives is intended for our crown prince? Ugh! Can you imagine the lice crawling on those feathers?" Desperation in her eyes, she turned to Axel as if he could do something to prevent the marriage. "She's as wild as her name. What were her parents thinking? You cannot call a girl after a ferocious beast and expect her to turn into a kitten."
"I doubt the crown prince had a kitten in mind when he saw her." Axel grinned.
Mother Saskia glared at him. "At least the younger one obeyed the dress instructions I sent to Thorn. I can probably make something of her before we get to Cian." Her glare morphed into a grimace. "But to call a girl after a bird of prey? It's outrageous."
Axel had seen-and heard-enough. It was time to get moving.
He gripped Mother Saskia's arm. "As you are well aware, Mother, the Norin stopped giving their children real names after we invaded them. It's just another act of rebellion designed to annoy us. Who the hell wants an empress named after a predator? Still, four centuries worth of Great High Priestesses have borne this indignity well. No doubt you will, too." He made a show of looking at his wristwatch. "One hour, and then I'm leaving, whether the Norin have bathed or not."
Mother Saskia pulled herself up to her full five feet and four inches. "My lord, as much as I respect your wishes, that savage will never be ready in an hour." She gestured to Lynx, who stood with her arms folded across her chest, scowling up at the pavilion and clearly questioning her unfriendly welcome. "I cannot travel into the Heartland with a creature who looks like that."
Axel sighed. Although it annoyed him to admit it, Saskia was right. The emperor would be furious if Lynx crossed into Chenaya dressed in leathers. Mott still frothed at the mouth when anyone mentioned Lynx appearing at court in her Norin gear during her summer visit. Her weapons would have to go, too.
But since hearing the Treven casualty figures that morning, Axel had urgent business in Cian that didn't include wasting time while Mother Saskia titivated with the princesses. If he didn't step in to save lives in Treven, who would? No one in Mott's palace, that was for sure.
Axel scowled at Mother Saskia. "Then I suggest you begin. I'm leaving in one hour."
Mother Saskia opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.
"Enough. Go greet your charges." Axel gestured to Stefan. "Come, Colonel. Command the controllers to get that Norin scrap heap out of here."
Stefan fell into step with him, and they strode across the pavilion.
Axel had just gripped the banister at the stairs when Mother Saskia called out, "Please, my lord, wait. You can see for yourself how ferocious the feathered girl looks. Do you honestly think she'll submit to me bathing her? This will take time. Tact. She is, after all, our future empress."
He turned to face her. She hadn't moved an inch. In fact, with her arms folded across her chest, she reminded him of Lynx.
His patience snapped.
In seconds, Axel crossed the pavilion, stopping an inch from her nose. Mother Saskia staggered back as he towered over her.
"Do I have to remind you, Mother, that you are a priestess of Chenaya? You have enough power in your little finger to bring a seven-foot giant to his knees if you so choose. If Lynx complains about my schedule, then use some of it on her."
Mother Saskia steadied herself. "I assume, Lord Avanov, that you will take full responsibility if the girl dies at my hands."
Axel dragged the tattered remains of his patience together. "Mother, how old are you?"
The Great High Priestess's eyes widened, but she answered, "Old enough to be your grandmother, my lord. I was born fifty summers ago."
"Fifty years? Hmm . . . you look good. I'd never have guessed." Axel cracked his crooked smile and changed his tone. "And you mean to tell me that, in all that time, you haven't learned to control the power in your fingers enough to blast our future empress without killing her?"
"Of course I can control my power," Mother Saskia hissed, sloughing off a glove. Her hand stretched out, fingers extended toward him. "Would you like to test my control?"