Rising once more, she tugged off her shirt and leggings, throwing them across the room. Lifting the empty jug, she hurled it at the wall where it burst into scores of jagged fragments.
Hearing the noise, a servant entered, and stood staring open-mouthed at the naked woman. ‘Get out!’ she bellowed. The man turned and fled.
Karis staggered to the balcony window, pushing it open. The cold struck her as she walked out and leaned over the rail, staring down at the snow-covered courtyard below. Brushing the snow from the rail, she hooked her leg over it. A strong hand grabbed her, dragging her back into the room. Swinging, she aimed a punch at Necklen’s grey-bearded face, but he blocked her arm and threw her to the couch.
‘What are you doing?’ she cried. ‘Get out of here!’
Necklen turned to a servant who stood cowering by the door. ‘Fetch me a jug of water and some bread and cheese,’ he ordered. Then he knelt by Karis. ‘Let’s get you to bed,’ he said. Her fist snaked out, but sailed harmlessly over his shoulder. Ducking into her, he hauled her upright and half-carried her to the bedroom. She fell back on the bed, and noticed that the ceiling was gently revolving.
‘I want to dance,’ she said. ‘I want another drink.’ She struggled to sit up, but Necklen pushed her back.
‘You just lie there, princess, until we can get some food into you.’
Karis swore at him, loud and long, using every gutter insult she knew. Necklen sat silently throughout the tirade. The ceiling was spinning faster now, and something horrible was happening to her stomach. Groaning, she rolled to the edge of the bed, where Necklen held an empty bowl beneath her and she retched violently. And passed out . . .
When she awoke the room was dark, a single candle flickering on the table beside her bed. She sat up. Her mouth tasted vile, and her head pounded. There was a jug of water on the bedside table and she filled a goblet and drank deeply.
‘Are you feeling better?’ asked Necklen. The old soldier was sitting in a chair in the shadows. He rose and moved to the bed.
‘I feel like death,’ she told him.
‘The thaw has begun, Karis. Spring is almost here.’
‘I know,’ she said wearily.
‘This is no time to be dancing naked on balconies. Giriak told me how you stood on the rail at Morgallis. He thought you were mad, but I told him you were merely eccentric. Eccentric and unique – and far too easily bored.’ Tearing off a chunk of bread, he handed it to her. Karis chewed on it without enthusiasm. ‘Everyone here is relying on you, princess.’
‘You think I don’t know that? And don’t call me princess!’
Necklen chuckled. ‘I’ve known many commanders during my life – steady ones, reckless ones, cowardly ones. But you are an original, princess. You can’t be read. With you it is all instinct. I had a horse like you once: sweet as a berry one moment, vicious and deadly the next. Highly strung,
he was. But a thoroughbred, faster than the wind, stronger than a bull. And fearless. Rode through fire for me, he did. I loved that horse, but I never understood him.’
‘What are you prattling on about?’ demanded Karis, swinging from the bed. She groaned as the pounding in her head increased.
‘Drink some more water.’
‘Shemak’s Balls, but you sound like my mother!’ Karis drank another goblet, then ate more bread. Glancing up, she grinned at him. ‘But I love you, old man!’
‘So I should hope.’
She saw that the bandage around the stump of his left wrist was seeping blood. ‘Oh, Hell, did I do that?’
‘You didn’t mean to; you were thrashing around a little. It will heal. Now, to more important matters. I have sent scouts out to the north and south-east. And the Weapon Maker wants to know if you will be there when they set up the catapult.’
‘Damn right I will! . . . How are you getting on with him?’
‘At first he seems a pompous bastard, but his heart is in the right place. I like him. And he knows his craft, by heaven!’