CHAPTER THREE

Don’t look at her shortcomings, look at her beauty…

“Take my hand.”  Lucian called out to her in Turkish.  He leaned down low over the horse so to help her mount. 

She ignored his hand.  Rolling up onto her feet, she grimaced in pain.  With her teeth clenched, she pulled beneath the claw and yanked until the glove dropped to the ground freeing her right hand.  Reaching up she grabbed the arrow at the point closest to the wound.

“There is no time for this.”  He yelled at her.  “Leave it!”

“I knew when I died I would pay for my many sins, but must it be you who welcome me into the gate of hell?”  She broke the arrow.

He noticed she still didn’t cry out in pain. 

“I am here to help you, Zeundi.”

“Leave me, you deviant hound of hell!” 

Lucian released a curse and looked up towards where the Vizier was seated.  The archer beside the Vizier had reloaded the arrow onto the bow and was lining him in his sights.  The arrow dipped and he turned to speak to the Vizier.   It was then the aging ample sized man stood from his seat.

He silently thanked God.  It appeared Vizier Ahmed was made aware that the missing Prince Kasir has returned to save his personal koruma.  Lucian had to find a way to get her to accompany him once the gates completely lifted.  There would be no way for the Vizier to call off the charging Janissaries before they killed him or Zeundi in their frenzied rush.

“A great assassin like you dare shame yourself by giving in to your enemy so easily?”  Lucian hissed at her.  A shocked expression smoothed out the lines of strain on her face. “I bid you, give me your hand.”

Zeundi grasped his hand and grunted as he hauled her slender frame up behind him onto the horse.

“Who are you?”  She asked.

“Do you not know a hero when thee see one?”  He gave her a roguish wink and a wolfish smile.  “Watch that clawed hand.  I do not wish to lose something I may need someday.”  He paused long enough for her to ease her arms around his waist.

Lucian came upon the gate he had entered and it was now closed.  He recognized the guard.  It was the archer that killed the panther. 

“Your father has been worried, Prince Kasir, and he wishes to see you at once.”

Lucian felt Zeundi’s arm tightened about his waist at the mention of Prince Kasir’s name. 

“Step aside!”  Lucian ordered.  “I wish to pass.”

“I am sorry but I have my orders to take you to your father.”

“Abu, why did you kill Sheba?”  Zeundi asked.  The pain of her loss was still evident in her voice.

“Did you not ask that the beast die with you this day?”  Abu asked. 

“Not that way,” she hissed.  It was to be my call and I was betrayed!”

“What I wish to know, Abu, is…why did you attempt to kill Zeundi also?”  Lucian asked his eyes narrowing on the man’s face.  “I was told my koruma was to receive a public sentencing before her death was wrought.”

“I thought she had called in someone to help her escape.   It must have been a shift in the wind, for I was actually trying to pierce you.  Affedersiniz, forgive me for not recognizing you.”  The curling, tipped mustache pulled thin across his top lip as he smiled.  “Merchant attire is not your usual wear, Prince Kasir.” 

“As you must expect, it would have been ill advised to travel through the square alone in my usual jewels and attire,” Lucian lied smoothly.  “However, now that I have returned to my place at my father’s side, Zeundi is once again under my care.  I will take personal offense if she were to meet with another accident of the wind, Koruma Abu.”

“I am curious to know why you left the palace and remained away this long without security, Milord Prince.”

“Am I expected to explain my reasoning to those I rule?”

“I am wondering at your timing, Milord.”

Lucian eyes narrowed in question.  “Your meaning is what, Abu?”

“You are now concerned for your koruma’s care which I find surprising considering you disappeared knowing your father would seek vengeance upon those who failed to watch over you.”

Lucian may not be the real prince, but he knew that the guard should be showing more respect to those who rule over him.  Why did this particular guard feel he could get away with such insolent behavior against his prince?

In his most regal voice he said, “Mayhap I should request that your tongue is removed for your insolent manner of speaking to me, Abu.  I may currently be in my father’s disfavor but I am sure if I ask that my honor be restored with your head, he would submit to my request.”

There was no mistaken the venom gaze in the man’s eyes before he masked it with a respectful smile.  Lucian realized that this man was more disappointed at the prince’s return than pleased.

The man placed a hand over his heart and bowed his covered head.  “Lütfen affedersiniz, please forgive me; no disrespect was intended.”

Lucian could see the insincerity on the man’s face.  This Prince Kasir wasn’t liked by his people and it seemed he wasn’t liked by his soldats either.  What the hell had he gotten himself into?

He snapped out of his thought as he felt Zeundi’s hold on his waist go slack as she began to slide off the saddle.  Lucian reached out and caught her.  Turning sideways in the saddle, he managed to pull her unconscious figure across his lap.  A hiss of unexpected pain escaped his lips as the hand still wearing the dangerous claws grazed over his pants covered thighs.  Blood appeared through the light colored material.

“Can you not see my Koruma is in need of care?”  He barked at Abu.  “Let me pass so that I may tend her wound.”

“I will have the guards take Koruma Zeundi to the palace physicians, Milord Kasir.  There is no need for you to see to such trivial matters,” Abu stated.

“Forgive me if I do not feel confident in giving Zeundi over to the man that tried to kill her.  I will explain my delay to…my father when I see him, but not before I attend my bodyguard.  You may send word that I will be detained.”

Abu eyed him suspiciously.  “You have changed much since you have been away, Milord.  I find it most strange.”

“Your point is, Abu?”

“Do you not think Milord Vizier Ahmed will be curious as to why you could not return because of your father’s waning health, however you returned in time to save this infidel.”

“I do not feel the need to explain myself to the likes of you,” Lucian replied looking down his nose at the man.  “Now, you either step aside or I will kill you.”

“You are leaving outside the palace, Prince Kasir.  Why do you not take Koruma Zeundi through the tunnels to her quarters?”

Lucian felt a lurch in his stomach.  He had no idea in which direction the tunnels were. 

“I do not wish to return to the palace until I can care for myself again,” Zeundi spoke up.  “There are those who would seek my demise while I am without my trusty servants to service me.  Now that the Prince has return to the fold, I will willingly go to my death.”  She locked challenging eyes with Abu.  “I hope you understand my meaning, Koruma Abu.  My memory is long and I will not forget this day.”

“I only did my bidding as you well know, Koruma Zeundi,” he remarked smoothly.  “I pray to Allah that you recover and look forward to the day you seek your vengeance.”

Lucian was amazed that not only was Zeundi awake, she obviously had never fainted.  It had been her ploy to encourage them to speak freely.  Now he was curious as to whom the befooling damsel was most suspicious of, him or Abu?  If she was like Sauda, she was suspicious of them both and she had every right to be.

 “You do not have to pray hard Abu.  Our day will come.”  Zeundi promised the scowling guard.  “Tell Vizier Ahmed he betrayed me this day and he will get his son back when I have healed to protect him.”

“Why would he trust you with what is precious to him, when you have failed before?”  Abu questioned.

“Tell Vizier Ahmed what I said. I assure you he will understand,” she replied crisply.  “Prince Kasir, you either ride Abu down or I kill him.  I care not which but I refuse to bleed to death while you decide.”  She held the weapon in her hand.

Lucian was impressed.  She had pretended to faint so that she could swipe one of his blades from the sheath of his boot without him being the wiser.  Only she had cut his leg in the process because he grabbed her thinking she was about to tumble from the horse. 

Lucian silently cursed his foolishness.  He had foolishly assumed it was an accident from her clawed glove.  He would have to remember to be more vigilant in this woman’s presence.  He could not allow his association with Sauda and the many tales of this woman’s heroics to cloud his judgment in the future for it could prove dangerous to his well-being.

“If I ride the man down, how will he be able to deliver your message?”  Lucian asked against the curve of her ear.

He saw her wide mouth twitch at the corners as if she was suppressing the need to smile.  Her next move was unexpected by them all.  The blade Zeundi was holding in her hand on the uninjured side of her body went sailing across the short distance into the hand of the gatekeeper causing him to yelp in pain and release the weight causing this particular gate to lift open.

“Yah!  Yah!”  Zeundi heeled the horse in its side. 

Lucian had no choice but to control the beast’s reins as it surged forward towards Abu.  The guard dived out of the way and they rode through the gateway into the square with curious onlookers getting out of the way or risk getting trampled upon.

After putting some distance between them and the palace walls, Lucian pulled taunt on the reins to slow the stallion into a trot as they entered the bustling trading square. 

“Are you mad taking such a risk?  They could have killed us,” Lucian related.

“Were you frightened?”

“Me?”  Lucian scoffed.  “Of course not.  I just want to get my favorite jewel back for returning the horse unharmed and running down an orospunun dolu, sperm of a whore, could have hurt the steed.”

Zeundi shook her head.  “I know that Abu is too much of a coward to try and block a horse; and who is going to shoot at the back of the Vizier’s son?”

“Ah, there is that,” he chuckled.

Now that he and Zeundi were out of eminent danger, Lucian became very much aware that he was holding a partially naked woman in front of him on the horse. She was a very unusual woman.  Her hairless head glistened with sweat underneath the late day sun.  Also her unexpectedly beautiful face was enough to cause stares without the bloodied nudity and his appearance as the prince. 

In England this situation would be beyond scandalous and ruin his current standing in social circles completely; that is if his remaining friends with the abdicated Lord Ethan Clare and his Blackamoor bride hadn’t done so already. 

Briefly, he wondered if he would have taken such risk to rescue Zeundi if she was imprisoned in England.  Probably so; he decided.  He’d heard so much about her through Sauda, he couldn’t help but feel as if he already knew her.  Lucian eyed Zeundi with budding admiration.  There was also much more to learn.

What manner of woman was she?  How does she do it?  She’s killed six men as if it was nothing and she has to be in pain, yet she sits in the saddle as regal as Queen Elizabeth.  Is she not the least bit embarrassed by everyone staring at her bloodied nakedness? 

As they slowly made their way through the square, Lucian caught what he thought to be the ogling eyes of several men in passing and scowled.  Without mentally delving into reasons why this bothered him, he tugged with one hand the ecru colored cotton cloth that encased his head to keep the sweat and dust from his hair and face and swept it across her naked breast. 

His arm brushed against her nipple and he felt it immediately harden against his arms.  He drew back as if he had been burned; but not fast enough to stop his body’s natural response to the contact. 

Lucian heard her resigned sigh and for some reason her lack of over reaction to his physical desire pleased him.   He always abhorred the women such as the ones he seduced at the English Court.  These women, even after lifting their skirts for an impromptu fucking or two with him, pretended to be virginal every time they met.  Each woman expected him to do the routine of courting them before doing the deed.  He enjoyed the fact Zeundi didn’t feel the need to pretend coyness or ignore the obvious.

“If I had not already been sure that you were not Prince Kasir, your arousal by my naked nearness would have confirmed any suspicion,” Zeundi pointed out.

“It has been a while since I have tumbled a woman so do not flatter yourself.  A breeze would garner the same reaction.”

“Is that a challenge?” 

To his amazement she reached behind her back and grabbed a handful of cock and handled him.  He was speechless.

“Nice,” she crooned softly and released him.  “However, it is a dangerous game you are playing, unknown one.”

“Unknown one?”  Grinning, he shook his head and leaned forward until his chest was flushed against her back.  He whispered against her ear, “That is a first.  I have been called enigmatic, interesting, intriguing, debonair, highly sensual and many less polite things, but never ‘one unknown’.”

Chortling she asked, “Ahh, are you speaking of yourself or are these the characteristics you have notice about me, Lordum?  If so, do not forget to add beautiful, exotic and very dangerous.”

Laughing, Lucian remarked, “Is this not a delight?” He spoke in a teasing voice.  “Ethan, my closest friend, would not believe this.  But I have finally found a woman with an ego bigger than mine and one that can be humorous while in pain.”

“Humor is the one thing I have not experienced since I parted from my warring sisters.”

He was taken off his guard by the vulnerability he heard in her husky sultry voice.

“Might I ask your name Lordum, seeing how I will be in trust to you with a blade close to my heart as I shall require your help in removing the remainder of the arrow from my shoulder?”

“Luciano Gilberto,” he supplied his guise name.  Friend or foe remained to be discovered, he thought.  Zeundi was after all in servitude to Vizier Ahmed and just because she was upset with him about the panther at the moment, it didn’t mean she was willing to be disloyal to her master.  “A textile merchant from Italy, would you care to see my wares?”

“I believe I have need of attire in addition to your honesty, Sir Lucian Gilbert of the Queen Elizabeth’s England, I presume,” Zeundi spoke softly.

Immediately Lucian went on alert.  Had Vizier Ahmed known of his existence long before now?  His mind raced with one question after another before it calmed knowing he had been careful up until today.  Nay, it was not possible for even if he heard of a merchant asking about him.  There was no way he would know his true identity.

“I do not know who you speak of, but it is not I,” he smoothly denied.

“If you cannot be truthful with me, how am I to help you?”  She put her weight on her uninjured side to peer over her shoulder at him. 

He was speechless; still unsure of how much to divulge and how much to hold to his heart.  “Why would I need the help of the Vizier’s pet?”  He asked cruelly.

Lucian was irritated by the fact that she knew who he was.  Yet if that were true, why did she think for a brief moment in the arena that he was Prince Kasir?  Then again, moments ago she said she knew he wasn’t the prince and his uncalled upon erection had proven her correct.  What game was this banshee playing?

“You wish an audience with the Vizier and I can get that for you?”

“Since they believe that I am Prince Kasir I no longer need aid in getting an audience with the Vizier,” Lucian pointed out.

“True, but once you get inside the palace and temporarily take your place as the heir, how do you plan for him to not notice you are the complete opposite of the prince’s personality?”

He frowned.  That was true.  He barely knew the man subsisted and Ram knew only what was rumor.  Who would know better of the prince than the woman that spent day and night caring for him. 

“Lordum Gilbert, I can see you have questions; however I prefer not to pass out from blood loss out here in the open.  I am vulnerable like this.  I, and the prince you look so much alike, have many enemies and at the sight of my weakness they are circling us like Buteo buteo, short winged hawks.”

He gave her an arrogant stare and replied, “Do you truly believe I would risk life and limb to save you only to have you die while injured in my possession?  I do not think so.”  Lucian clicked his tongue and kneed the horse’s sides and they lurched forward.  “At the Inn, we can attend your wound.”

“Afterwards, we must leave Amasya as soon as possible.”

“I cannot leave.  I seek an audience with Vizier Ahmed and now that I have means in which to gain his attention, I will not miss this opportunity,” he retorted.

“Umarim bana güvenmeyi ögreneceksiniz annen için arama olarak, I hope as we search for your mother you will learn to trust me.”

He brought the large heavy-muscled horse to a halt and dismounted avoiding kicking the horse’s hind quarters.  Reaching up Lucian grasped Zeundi’s wrist on the hand with the clawed glove.  His fingers applied pressure to her wrist causing her hand to go limp and useless before yanking her from the horse.

 She cried out in pain as her back hit the ground.  Without pausing, Lucian pinned her down with his weight.  His knees pressed into her arms holding them splayed while his crotch stopped short of her chin.   He cared not of her wounded shoulder or other discomforts she may be experiencing at the moment.

“Zeundi, I demand you tell me how you gained this information about me and who else in Amasya knows my true identity?” He asked heatedly wrapping one hand around her long slender throat to let her know he would seriously squeeze until he got the answers he seeks.

“I cannot say,” she said through clenched teeth.  “Not out here where there may be ears listening!  However, I believe you already know the answer.”

Lucian managed to remove her clawed glove without removing one of his own hands.  He would marvel over the crude weapon later, but for now he wanted her to explain herself.

“I know nothing for sure and I trust no one; especially a personal bodyguard of the Vizier’s family,” he declared.  His voice was deep and ominous.

“Unhand me,” she rasped weakly.

He frowned, noticing the ashen coloring of her dark skin.  Coming up onto his booted feet he drew her up to stand in front of him.  Her disarming colored eyes merged with his and he became mesmerized.  Her eyes were like looking into the glassy surface of a murky algae blooming lake.  Lucian stood his ground when she closed the small amount of face between them.

Zeundi softly spoke, “Heed this warning orosbu pitchi, bastard son of a whore, do not handle me like that again.  I will not always be this weary or feel beholden.  If it was not for…” Her words faded and instead she warned, “Just do not do it again.”

Lucian closed the gap between them until his regal nose was nearly touching hers.  She was exceptionally tall for a woman.  He silently heeded but it didn’t thwart him from extending a warning of his own. 

“I do not heed threats, especially from a woman, not even from a woman like you,” he sneered.

“What mean you ‘a woman like me’?”  She asked.

Baffled; it took him a moment to realize she had taken his words the wrong way.  He was speaking of the assassin skills he’d heard much about.  But from the dejected look upon her face, she thought he was speaking of her appearance and it was obvious it was something she expected from him.

“Zeundi--” Lucian swallowed deeply feeling the need to explain.

If she hadn’t been so close he didn’t know if he would have been able to hear her.  Being this close had a lot of advantages.  Not only did she have beautiful eyes but she also had very long curling tipped eyelashes.  He had surmised their defined almond shaped appeal was through artificial secrets that women used, but not her.  

 In expressionless tones blunt with inner pain, Zeundi unwittingly disclosed the frustration she suffered from others’ reaction to her appearance.  

“I know my body and features are not abundant and comme il faut, comely like most women,” she interrupted.  “Yet, in here…” she touched a hand to heart and the wrap he threw about her slipped revealing a dark erect nipple and she was uncaring.

Lucian cleared his throat, draped the wrap back up and around her shoulder, this time tucking it in to assure it stayed put.  How could a woman be so oblivious to her nakedness?  She just puts everything out there for the world to see, yet here she was concerned about others disliking her features.  All this contradiction wrapped up in one person was something to behold indeed. 

“In here!”  She hit her chest so hard she stumbled back and his hands shot out to set her aright.  As if she hadn’t nearly stumbled to the dirt, she continued her open confession.  “In here!”  She moved to hit her chest again and he caught her hand in his and held it.  “In here, there beats the heart of a woman.  I have these stupid woman weaknesses that will not go away.”

Taken aback by her unheralded admission, Lucian found himself asking a question he’d never thought to ask a woman before, “What do your woman’s heart long for, Zeundi?”

“Is it not obvious?  What do most women want?”

“I am in the species of the clueless,” he reasoned.  “Physical pleasures of the flesh I can handle as I am a bit of an expert at loveplay.  However, for the most part I assume marriage and children.  Both of those demands will cause me to flee.”

“You do understand a woman’s heart,” she nodded and swayed.

“Zeundi, we are here in front of the Inn.  Let us go inside so that I may remove the remainder of the arrow and cauterize the wound.  You have grown feverish.”

“I should have stayed and died!  It is the only way I can gain my freedom.”  Her voice became husky with emotions.  “Along with my sisters, I dreamed of freedom and a place to call home.  I too want to be loved.”

“You lived another day.  You can still have those things.”

Lucian could easily assure her, but he found it hard settling down from his current life as a drifter going from one intrigue into the other.  Ethan was one of the lucky few to have discovered happiness; but then again, his friend had suffered enough in his lifetime to have earned an eternity of happiness. 

Mayhap once this journey ends and he discovered more about his father, he would feel more worthy to wish for such things.  At this point in his life he had no legacy to tell to his sons so they could be proud.  The only tales he had of a father figure had been of his grandfather who had made his wealth from flesh trading.  Flesh trading such souls as Sauda and Zeundi.  He grew up with the embarrassment.  He wouldn’t have his children doing the same.

Lucian, with one arm still around Zeundi’s shoulder, saw a curious Rahim gazing down at them from an open window on the second floor of the Inn.  The wooden shutters had been thrown open wide to allow the evening air to filter in, but it also meant everything would be covered in thick dust again.

Stone House Inn was formerly an abandoned official’s home that stood erected since the eight century.  Even though there were many repairs needed, it was the only place in the city that did not harbor rats, bed bugs, filth and rancid water.  It was a place that only those with heavy lined pockets could afford because of its rare commodity of access to fresh water within the walls.

Lucian had learned during his last visit to this country to reside where the clean water lives whenever possible.  The last journey he had the boks, shits so bad he’d wished for death several hundred times just to seek relief.

“Erkek çocuk, come boy and care for the horse so that I can take Zeundi inside,” he called up.  Ram disappeared from the open window.

“No,” Zeundi was shaking her head.  “I will never have that.  Every man I meet if he is not a slave like I am, then he wishes to kill me.”  She let out a bitter laugh.  “I would like the life the messenger said my free sister has found,” her voice cracked with emotion.  “I…”

“A messenger, you say?” Lucian interrupted.  “What sister Zeundi?”

Her feverish face pulled in confusion at his question.  “What messenger?  I was saying people fear me because of what I am and they say my black skin is the sign of the devil.  They call me a witch because of my infinity with felines of all kinds.  Everyone thinks I am ugly,” she cried.  “I bet you think I am ugly too.”

Damn, he thought.  Sauda had put herself at risk to mettle in his business.  She and Ethan were the only two that knew of his exact destination.  Not even his ship’s crew was aware of where they were headed until they set sail.

Lucian knew he had heard correctly about the messenger.  He would discuss it more so in private with Zeundi, but it was obvious her feverish state had brought on her open and too honest rants. 

Ugly?  How could she believe such things? Has she never seen her own reflection in a looking glass?  From the moment he saw her magnificent form in the arena, he found Zeundi exotic and appealing.  Even though she was nothing like the women he was attracted to, he could see she was beautiful.

Aye, her features made up an oblong face with high rounded cheekbones and a long, straight nose with thin flaring nostrils.  She was void of hair on her head but no eyes could linger too long on her head when there were such enticing lips to feast upon. 

Zeundi was also long limbed, lean and muscular in a way no overindulgent lady of the English Court would ever be and well earned from what he had witnessed during her battle in the arena.  How many women can brag they took down six men and how many women did he know personally that could match him in throwing a knife?

“You are not ugly.” The words poured forth before he could bite the compliment back.  “I also do not fear you.”

“You do not?”

 “Would I have yanked you from the horse and accosted you to the ground if I feared you?” He questioned.

“Ahh,” she gave him a weak half smile.  “It is because you know I am wounded and weak,” Zeundi surmised. 

His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Lifting her chin a notch she added, “You are not only handsome, but wise.  Just know if you ever do it again I might kill you.”

Lucian snorted on a laugh.  Such arrogance in a woman was indeed not becoming.  “For some mundane reason, I am finding it pleasing that you find me ‘handsome’, Kurohyou.”

Her expression drooped in despair once again.  What had he said wrong?

“Kurohyou,” she repeated.  “Black panther…my baby…Sheba,” she wailed.  “My baby is dead.  She was like my child and I was suppose to watch over her.  Now all my babies are gone.  I should have let her go with the others or I should have journeyed into the afterlife with Sheba.”

The one thing he hadn’t expected from this woman was tears.  He felt an unfamiliar heaviness in his chest.  He cupped her face in his palms.  “Shhh…do not cry Zeundi,” he crooned.  “All will be well, I promise.”

Why did he make such an outlandish promise?  He did hate seeing women cry.  Often he wondered if his mother was somewhere shedding tears over having to give him away or because she was with someone that was unkind to her.  He had to find her.

Unnerved, Lucian’s mind went empty from thoughts of his mother.  His breath caught in his throat. His senses hummed as he acknowledged the feel of Zeundi’s lips suddenly against his.  He felt her uninjured arm slide around his waist and her hands gripped and held on to his traveling robe. 

He continued cradling her face in both his hands and his lashes drooped until his eyes closed while he parted his lips to her prodding kiss.  Lucian didn’t know if it was the shape of her wonderful mouth or the fact that she surprised him by initiating the kiss or her obvious expertise in the art of kissing; but his toes actually curled inside his soft-toed boots.

Lucian broke the zealous kiss at the sound of Ram’s angry voice.  He frowned.  A sudden realization hit him as he stared into Zeundi flushed and feverish face.  If Ram hadn’t interrupted them he didn’t know if he would have been able to stop.