Blood of Wonderland Page 10

  “Yer Highness, let me see.” His hands cradled her face, her shoulder. The Spade turned her over gently, peeling Ki-ershan’s hand back from the wound, and she heard a sharp intake of breath. “Yur-Jee, please get me some bandages and a healer. Now!”

  Dinah closed her eyes. When she opened them again, there was a beautiful Yurkei woman leaning over her, her glowing blue eyes trained on Dinah’s wound, her flowing white hair soaked red at the tips where it had brushed in her blood. She listened silently as the woman sang a wailing song over her, rocked back and forth, and applied some sort of gray paste to Dinah’s wound. The paste smelled like the mushroom fields—warm and potent, a decadent perfume. The pain suddenly receded into a dull, stabbing sensation, and Dinah breathed a sigh of relief, her hand reaching up to clutch the woman’s shoulder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She repeated it over and over, her tongue becoming numb.

  The woman smiled, showing her small pearly teeth. “How do you say . . . in Wonderlander? Su-heyg . . . hu-sang . . .” The woman clapped her hands. “Oh yes, hu-satey.” Her blue eyes stared unflinchingly into Dinah’s. “Welcome to Hu-Yuhar.”

  Eight

  Dinah slept for two glorious days on the bed of woven grass. Occasionally, she would be awoken by the pain. She’d eat and relieve herself before surrendering to sleep. Sir Gorrann sat quietly beside her bed, always watchful. He must have slept, but Dinah didn’t know when he did, and she didn’t really care. The healing paste made her dreams vivid and joyful. Charles, weaving feathers into a hat. Harris, adjusting his spectacles while they feasted on wine and grapes. Wardley, astride Corning, his brown hair glowing like warm chocolate in the sun, his arms reaching for her. Wardley . . . she thought of him often in the few minutes between waking and falling back asleep. Wardley, her love, whom she probably would never see again. Wardley the Weak, as he was called now. The shame she felt at tarnishing his name was at times unbearable, so it was easier just to sleep.

  When two days had finally passed, Dinah begrudgingly decided that it was time to leave the confines of her warm, cozy tent. Sir Gorrann roused her early and made sure that she ate a plate of eggs and strange amber fruit. As Dinah bit into the egg, a rush of yellow yolk ran down her chin. She stared at Sir Gorrann, who was devouring his eggs.

  “Did you lead me here?” she asked. The Spade wiped his face with a feathered napkin.

  “Perhaps. Perhaps it is not yet time to ask.”

  Dinah flung her plate across the room with a fury that surprised even herself. Her wound screamed in protest and she let out a tiny whimper. “Why? Why would you take us here?”

  The Spade stood and brushed off his lap. “I’ll not answer that question now, not while yeh are acting like a child. But I would say, ask yerself if yeh trust me. You’ll find the answer is yes, I think. That’s really for you to decide. But for right now, I think we should take yeh down to the river to bathe because I have never seen anyone look so disgusting, and your wound will need washing and re-dressing.”

  He left the tent without another word. Dinah stewed for a few minutes in the bright white light of the tent. He had led her here. But why? To provide the Yurkei with the revenge they so desired? To ransom her off to the king, who would then kill her? No matter how many situations she came up with, not a single one of them made any sense. The Spade had saved her, protected her, taught her to fight. One did not give one’s enemy a sword and instruct the arm to wield it.

  Finally, with a cry of pain and a stream of curses that would make the Spade proud, Dinah sat up and pulled a tunic over her head. She ducked out of the tent to find Ki-ershan waiting for her. He nodded his head toward a dirt path that ran behind her tent. “Thank you,” she whispered. He smiled back at her. Ki-ershan was definitely her favorite of the two guards. He followed behind as Dinah proceeded to walk slowly down the path until she arrived at a tiny freshwater stream that ran the length of the valley. Her wound still pulsed with pain, but it was nothing compared to the pain she remembered from the wooden knife. Sir Gorrann waited for her at a bend in the trail, and they walked together in silence toward the bank.

  She stopped at the stream and stared into the water. It was small, barely ten feet across, but it gurgled and danced in the morning sun, its water so clear that it was almost like looking in a mirror. Dinah had thought she had no embarrassment left after being paraded through the valley in her bright red tunic and then forced to climb the ladder into the sky, but she had been wrong. In the shiny blue stream, there were hundreds of Yurkei bathing, playing, and washing clothing. The women all bathed naked, their perfect lean bodies glistening in the sun. Dinah saw Sir Gorrann glance away, a red flush rising in his cheeks. Dinah slowly undressed herself, trying to cover all that she could with her tunic before lowering herself quickly into the icy water with a wince as it converged on her wound. All eyes watched her as she came up, no doubt disgusted at this pale, bruised creature with black hair and the darkest eyes they had ever seen. The intense cold took her breath away and she immediately started shivering. Sir Gorrann climbed in after her, struggling to cover himself as well, giving his own gasp at the cold water. He dunked his head and then emerged, shaking the water out of his gray hair. He then began to scrub her wound with fervor. The moment was anything but intimate, as they were both freezing and working as quickly as possible.

  Sir Gorrann raised his voice. “Yer wound . . . it’s almost healed. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Indeed, her wound was closing nicely after two days of rest, and whatever healing paste had been put on it had sealed it shut. Her shoulder had a constant ache, and when she raised her arms there was a thin slice of pain. Mundoo had left her a scar, a remembrance of him. Dinah watched as the clean water around her became cloudy with the dirt and muck scrubbed from her skin. There was something in the gentle way the Spade touched her shoulder, something that made Dinah realize that even though he had led them into the mouth of the Yurkei, she deeply trusted him. He would never hurt her. She knew it instinctively, the same way she knew the stars would change each night. Sir Gorrann cursed the chief as he scrubbed at the scabbed wound.

  “He believed yeh deserved this, no doubt, but it didn’t have to be so deep. What with the coming battles . . . ?”

  “Why should it matter?” replied Dinah. “There are plenty of people here who would like to see my head on a stake, sooner rather than later.”

  “The Yurkei don’t behead,” said Sir Gorrann calmly as he dunked his head again under the stream. “They drop their prisoners from the wings of the cranes onto the stones below.” He stopped, suddenly aware of what that image would do to Dinah. “I’m sorry, Yer Highness. I forgot.”

  She spread her fingers in the water, seeing Charles on the stone slab. “Don’t be sorry. It would be fitting to die like my brother.” Dinah was suddenly aware that the noisy stream had grown very silent. The Yurkei women were climbing naked out of the water and gathering up their children with whispered words of compliance. The children struggled, unhappy to have their playtime cut short, but the women carried them away. Noting the sudden exodus of bathers, Dinah felt compelled to grab for her red tunic, pulling it into the water and wriggling into it like a fish. Within seconds, Dinah and Sir Gorrann were the only ones left in the stream. Dinah heard the crunch of branches behind her and turned, her arms wrapped tightly across her chest, her heart thudding beneath them.

  Two huge feet stood before her on the bank—gnarled, gross feet—slabs of meat marked with calluses and scars. They led up to the tallest man Dinah had ever seen. It was strange seeing someone with a similar skin tone to hers here, in the depths of Yurkei country. His hair was a honeyed brown rather than white, though it was long and cut in the Yurkei manner. It came to a downward point on his forehead, his eyes a dull green. A jagged scar ran from his chin up past his cheek, mingling with the white stripes of paint that trailed from just under his eye to his shins. He wore only a feather loincloth. Thighs and arms like tree trunks stretched out from his rigid torso.
He would dwarf even her father. In one hand he clutched an elaborately curved bow and arrow. In the other was a Heartsword.

  Dinah’s stomach gave a lurch when she saw the sunlight flicker off the double-sided blade. Only her father and the highest-ranking Cards carried Heartswords. She stared in wonder, her arms pressed tightly over her chest. The man glowered at them before throwing his weapons on the bank. Without warning, he reached down and plucked Dinah straight out of the water by clasping both of her arms at her side and lifting, as easily as if he had picked up a rag doll. Something felt as if it was ripping inside her shoulder. She struggled, but it was no use. His grip was as strong as iron. Her feet dangled above the ground. Sir Gorrann rushed to climb out of the stream, his eyes on the man.

  The man sneered as he looked into Dinah’s surprised face. “This skinny dark-eyed girl is the great Princess of Wonderland? The one who bested her father, stole his horse, and left a bloody trail behind her? It can’t be. You are barely the size of my thigh and weak as a newly hatched worm. Are you this legendary warrior, the Rebel Queen?”

  Dinah strained her neck to look up at him, water streaming into her eyes. Her mouth seemed unable to form words.

  “Speak up!” he bellowed, his breath blowing her hair back. Dinah bit her lip, the fury inside her poking its head out of slumber. She twisted to free herself, but it was of no use. Instead she fixed her black eyes on his.

  “I am Dinah, the former Princess of Wonderland. This is my guard, Sir Gorrann, a Spade, and one of the most feared trackers in the Cards.”

  “So I have heard,” he said. “A wet mouse and her old man guardian; this is who I am to train?” With a laugh, he set her down on the ground.

  Dinah raised her chin. “And your name?”

  “You can call me Bah-kan. As you may have noticed, I do not look like most of my brothers here in Hu-Yuhar.” He grinned. “My given name is Stern Ravier and I was once the highest-ranking Club Card in the king’s army.”

  Dinah let out a gasp. There were poems and stories about the bravest Club that had ever lived—in fact, his giant statue had lorded over Charles’s room.

  “You’re famous,” she stuttered, her lips blue with cold. “And dead!”

  The huge man let out a bellow that seemed to rustle the trees around them. “So Wonderland Palace would have you believe. My Yurkei name, the true name you will call me, is Bah-kan, which means the Tall Warrior. I am here to train you.” His eyes traveled over Dinah’s form. “You have my permission to dry yourself.”

  Dinah staggered over to her white feathered pants, as light as a whisper when she pulled them over her stinging wet skin and soaked tunic. Sir Gorrann stood nearby, his hands covering his groin as he eyed Bah-kan.

  “Stories of your mighty death resound in the halls of the Cards,” he said forcefully. “How is it that you are now a Yurkei warrior, though you bear the highest honors of Wonderland Palace?” His tone was accusing. Traitor.

  “Ah, that’s a story for another time. For now, we must go. Mundoo insists that training begin today, for both of you.” He gave Sir Gorrann a hard slap on the shoulder. “It’s good to see another Card, even if it must be a Spade. It’s a wonder you kept her alive. Spades aren’t exactly known for their abilities.”

  Sir Gorrann lunged toward Bah-kan, who brought down his palm straight against the Spade’s chest without flinching. Sir Gorrann flew back into the stream as if he was thrown there by the gods. He surfaced with a furious look on his face, water streaming from his gray hair. Dinah tried to control it, but laughter was churning its way up her throat and before long she was laughing so hysterically that she was doubled over. Tears reddened her eyes. The whole situation, everything, was so terrible, so strange and confusing. And yet she could only laugh at Sir Gorrann simmering in the water, looking like a drowned cat. The giant Yurkei warrior standing guard laughed quietly to himself as she quickly pulled her hair into a low bun.

  Bah-kan cleared his throat. “I’m glad to give you a laugh, Princess. Your training will commence in a few minutes. Follow this path by the river, turn right at the waterfall, and then come to a rest in front of the livestock pen, just below the knee of the crane.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I heard from Mundoo that you have the fiery blood of your father. Personally, I can’t wait to find out.” Bah-kan gathered up his weapons and stomped off. Normally this sort of insult would have sent Dinah into a rage, but instead it made her laugh harder. Eventually, the Spade relaxed as well, chuckling while he floated on his back in the stream, spitting water into the air. It was a good while before they trekked their way back to the valley floor, when Dinah raised her voice. “Why are they training me to fight? What good could that possibly do?”

  The Spade was silent for a moment. “Well, at least they aren’t killing yeh.”

  Dinah began laughing again. It was all so . . . strange.

  Unfortunately, the laughter didn’t last. Bah-kan was a brutal fighter and a merciless trainer. He had no stomach for weakness and made a game out of fighting them with one hand—and sometimes with no hands.

  Crowds of Yurkei gathered around them each morning to watch Bah-kan humiliate and exploit their weaknesses. The focus was on Dinah, but he also sparred with Sir Gorrann several times a day. Those fights were incredible to watch, and Dinah felt that she learned more from watching those than when she herself was training. Even Mundoo, who took mysterious journeys into the mountain tunnels during the day, made rare appearances to watch the fights.

  Swords flew and clanged through the valley, the swift dance of warriors, one that attracted even the best Yurkei warriors to watch and dissect. Bah-kan would preempt the Spade’s strokes and parry with his own, the Heartsword close to his breast to act as both shield and weapon. Sir Gorrann was the more cautious of the two, the more calculating. He saved his advances for those times when he had the best opportunities. Bah-kan had the advantage of strength, but he also was an intelligent fighter, one who weighed challenging maneuvers before charging in with fearless abandon. They were well matched. There were several times when Dinah feared Sir Gorrann would lose his life, when Bah-kan’s blade came a little too close, but he always leaped out of the way at the ideal moment, or cried to yield.

  Bah-kan was unstoppable, she realized, perhaps the best warrior she had ever seen in her life. He was the lethal combination of a highly disciplined Card mixed with the best traits of a Yurkei warrior—equal parts brutal and graceful, moving as if he was dancing on air. Dinah realized quickly that there were none in Wonderland or Yurkei country that could best him, aside from perhaps Xavier Juflee, the Knave of Hearts. But she wasn’t sure that even he could beat Bah-kan.

  Dinah and Bah-kan sparring was much less exciting, since it took only a few minutes before Dinah was facedown on the ground, beaten and exhausted in every possible way. Still, she was proud that she could meet most of his blows with a somewhat broad counterstrike of her own. She was no longer swinging into the air with large, heavy-handed strokes but rather with quick strikes of her blade combined with rapid foot movement. She danced around Bah-kan, and once managed to land a hard blow just above his ribs that left him gasping. The Yurkei surrounding them had whooped and stomped their feet.

  Bah-kan gave a tiny laugh and then plunged forward, rage playing across his white-striped face. Dinah jumped high to avoid a low stroke and brought the butt of her blade down hard on his knee. It was like striking a rock, and the vibrations that shot through her once-broken fingers made her wince in pain. Bah-kan was upon her then. He swung the Heartsword across her chest but stopped mid-swing, twisted around, and punched her in the back of the shoulder—right in the spot where Mundoo had sunk his thin blade. She screamed.

  “Bah-kan!” shouted Sir Gorrann, angry.

  Bah-kan shrugged. “An enemy will look for her obvious weakness. Why shouldn’t I?”

  Surprised by the white-hot pain blowing through her shoulder and distracted by rage, Dinah swung her sword at his arm. It was a mistake. He caught t
he blade with the end of his Heartsword and wrenched backward. Dinah’s sword went sailing into the crowd and she was left empty-handed.

  “Your Highness!” Dinah looked up just in time to see Sir Gorrann toss his knife in her direction. She caught it and turned to meet Bah-kan again. The crowd was silent as Bah-kan shifted his weight from foot to foot, as if thinking of a million ways to kill her. Bah-kan spoke.

  “Your father, the King of Wonderland, is a whoremonger and a cheat.” The Yurkei cheered at his words.

  Dinah clasped her hand around the dagger. “I agree!” she yelled back.

  The crowd laughed, and Bah-kan let a smile draw across his face. “Your half sister is a dozen times more beautiful than you. I hear she is a good queen.”

  Dinah felt the fury rising up inside of her, the clawing black heat that she so often pushed back down. Still, she remained calm. “You are surely right. She is lovely, even though she is a false queen.”

  Bah-kan sidestepped and then charged, his Heartsword raised as if to carve her in half. Dinah rolled in front of him, clipping him at the shins and making him tumble. As she passed, she nicked the back of his calf with her dagger. Bah-kan roared as he landed, and Dinah scurried to her feet, the dagger poised to throw. For a second, she had the advantage. Bah-kan was distracted by his bleeding leg, and the Heartsword was down. The voice barreling down insults continued.

  “Your mother was just as well-known for her whoring as she was for her mad son.”

  Dinah screamed with rage as the fury overtook her and she flung the knife at Bah-kan. The blade was thrown so sloppily that it bounced off the edge of his Heartsword even though he never moved it. With inhuman speed, he reached out, caught it in his hands, and flung it back at Dinah. She watched as it buried itself deep in her chest armor. Without the armor that Mundoo insisted upon, she would have been dead, but that was the least of her cares. Seeing nothing but her all-encompassing black rage, she launched herself upon Bah-kan and ripped at his ear with her teeth.