Drink of Me. Jacquelyn Frank

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Drink of Me - Jacquelyn  Frank


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the Sánge couldn’t care less what outlanders thought of them. The prejudice was the same all over, and there would never be anything they could do about it.

      Reule watched the walls of his small city grow in majestic height as they drew nearer, feeling the familiar explosion of pride and satisfaction at what they’d made of this wild land. It was a home. A grand and productive home with contented people he was able to keep safe. For the most part, he thought grimly as he glanced at Chayne.

      Perverted Jakal bastards. Their need to gorge on emotion made the Sánge ripe targets because of their emotional complexity as telepaths and empaths themselves. Reule’s people were almost universally reviled in the world outside of Sánge-controlled lands, but at least most breeds tolerated or were too afraid to make threats against them. They were also reluctant to go without the crucial grains that fed them. The Sánge had proved themselves to be the only ones hardy enough to survive in the wildernesses where the most valuable crops grew best. The canyons of the Gemin and the rainforests of the Opia had their own resources, of course, but neither was conducive to growing grain.

      The Sánge had dangers to contend with as well. Hard winters, the beasts of the dark and fertile woodlands, and those of the damplands that they hunted, which hunted them in return if they weren’t careful. There were poisonous molds, blights that threatened crops, and dozens of other risks.

      There were the gypsy Jakals and nomadic Pripans as well. The Pripans stayed in the deserts mostly, but occasionally the tribal leaders staged raids on the nearby flatlands to steal grain or women. Pripan males weren’t as picky as those of other breeds and considered the quelling of a powerful and deadly Sánge woman to be a conquest that advertised their supremacy and sexual prowess. Grain Reule could forgive, but kidnapping wasn’t to be tolerated. Unfortunately, the Pripan tribes were large and numerous, and he had to be careful not to commit an act of aggression that would cause them to combine resources and go to war against him. So, often it was a matter of kidnapping their women back, like boys playing war games of stealth. Luckily, the Pripans had a sense of humor about being outsmarted, as long as Reule stuck firmly to only reclaiming what had been stolen in the first place. His success varied, so he found it best to protect his people from such dangers to begin with.

      Their key protection, the monstrous walls rising up from the bedrock of the mountainsides on the north and south slopes, soared above them as they neared. The city sprawled behind the cement, a fair three miles of farms, homes, and merchants before it butted up against Jeth Keep, which in turn butted up against a mountain to the west. There was a northwest wall as well, and a gate, far smaller in width than the one they approached, that led into a treacherous pass with no obvious exits after the first few miles. It was the perfect getaway route in case of seige, and only Reule and his Packmates knew the secret of the escape.

      “Hallo!”

      The cry echoed over their heads from the guards atop the wall and in the central lookout positions about halfway up the sheer surface. Reule smiled when they set up a cheer for the hunters without even knowing if they’d been successful. Those with the sharpest eyes and minds were the first to fall quiet, however, as they noticed Chayne’s empty horse, two of the returning Pack riding in tandem, and an extra body amongst them. Not to mention a decided lack of game hanging from their saddles. It was to have been the final hunt before winter set in, meant to provide meat for the hard months to come. The horses ought to have been laden down with game. Instead, there was no sign of success and all the signs of trouble. Reule felt the buzz of thoughts extending from friends on the walls to those of the party, curious and questioning. Reule put a sharp end to the questions by quickly emanating a warning to silence the Pack. Gossip would abound, but he’d save fact sharing until he could address the province himself. He didn’t need rumors exacerbating fears in the city.

      There was a hum as the electricity powering the steel portcullis gears was turned on, producing the energy needed to raise the heavy gate. The refined fuels used for the generators came from trade with the Pripans, even more reason not to incite wars with them. The precious convenience of electricity was highly coveted by the Sánge, especially in the winter when the idea of the cold was intolerable. It was the only characteristic of the wilderness that they found nearly impossible to bear. Fuel for electricity was worth every piece of gold or sack of grain they traded for it. Only the wealthiest in the city could afford fully electrified homes all through the days and nights of winter. Many had electric heat and light in a single room. Otherwise it was wood, peat, and coal fires that warmed them, especially in the farms outside the city walls, where there was no access to electricity as yet. It was one of Reule’s goals to provide the necessary generators as soon as he could.

      He was strongly hoping that Amando, his Prime Envoy, would have great success in his trading this season. He would soon find out, as he expected Amando any day. The final transactions across their trading route must be completed before the first snows flew. Reule couldn’t rest until the autumn trades were complete and the winter coffers were full.

      For the moment, there were other concerns drawing his attention. The riders broke into a canter once the gate was raised enough for them to pass. They thundered along the main thoroughfare of the city, calling ahead so that pedestrians scattered out of the street. Jeth Keep, stone and steel built to withstand a hostile world, loomed taller even than the city walls. A second portcullis guarded its bailey, but it was raised for the day’s business. Reule led the Pack in. Stablehands rushed out for the weary horses, and Reule saw Amando and Saber hurrying from the training yards to see what commotion had arisen.

      The Pack dismounted, none of them bothering with explanations. They pushed their way into the castle, Reule shouting out as he entered.

      “Drago! Pariedes!”

      Reule’s manservant and the principal housekeeper appeared instantly.

      “Pariedes, send a lass to fetch the apothecary. We’ll need medical supplies, blankets, fresh clothing for Chayne and for a petite girl, and hot food. Make certain some of it is soft. Drago?”

      “At your service, My Prime,” the elder Sánge said quickly, hustling after Reule, who never once broke his step.

      “Wait for the apothecary yourself. When he arrives, bring him to the baths and assist him with Chayne. I only want you and Rye in the bath with him besides the apothecary. You know how Chayne can be. The less exposure, the better.”

      “Understandable and quite wise, My Prime,” Drago agreed gravely.

      “See to it, Pariedes, that you attend me and the girl in the Prime’s bath yourself. No other.”

      “My Prime!”

      Pariedes’s exclamation of shock finally drew him to a halt. The entire hall grew quiet as Reule turned to face the flushing housekeeper, who squared her shoulders in a familiar sign of stubbornness that made him sigh loudly.

      “What is it, Para?”

      “Surely you don’t intend to bring an insensate woman into your bath,” she whispered, even though whispering was ridiculous in a hall full of men with sharp hearing and sharper telepathic ability. “There is propriety to be considered.”

      Reule’s burst of laughter heightened her blush, but she only stood straighter.

      “Para, my fierce lioness, she’s but a cub. I’ve no interest in a child. Besides, you will be with me. I would also limit her exposure to just you and myself. She is not Sánge.”

      “Not…?”

      That seemed to paralyze Pariedes for a moment, though her mouth continued to try speaking for a good twenty seconds. Finally, she covered her womb with both hands, a longtime habit she had picked up, and inclined her head. Then she was off with a flounce of skirts and a stream of russet hair. The Pack entered the royal receiving room, the sound of boots on the gleaming marble floor thundering off the high ceiling. The marble had been mined from the surrounding mountains, a beautiful metallic red. The royal chamber had been paved with it, except for a border of golden stones that edged the entire room, and the dais where Reule sat in state.

      They didn’t pause but headed straight out the rear of the


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