The cursed towers 162
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A squad of soldiers, demanding to know her name and destination, stopped them some miles down the
road. Their gray cloaks and leather breastplates were torn and stained, their shields badly battered.
Maya recognized the uniform with a sinking heart. She had not expected to see any of the Righ's army
this far east.
Maya leant from the gilded carriage, smiling at the sergeant and answering his questions in her low,
melodious voice. She was dressed in crimson velvet, with a long, narrow skirt edged in gold, and a high
collar that was cut away from the base of her throat to the cleft of her breasts.
"I travel to my country home in eastern Blessem," she said. "My husband went there some weeks ago
following reports the wicked Tirsoilleirean had marched through that part o' the land. We were worried
about our servants and crofters, and about the house. I have had no word from him and I was so
overcome with anxiety that I decided I must come down and see for myself what is happening."
"Ye would be best staying and waiting for word, madam," the sergeant said gruffly. "All the land beyond
that hill is held by the Bright Soldiers, and by all accounts they have little respect for person or property."
"I thank ye for the warning," Maya replied, "and I am glad I hired so many guards. My house is no' so
very far from here. I am sure I will have no trouble and if I do, I shall send one o' my men to find ye, such
a strong, sturdy man that ye are." She smiled at him winningly and he blushed.
"I think ye had best have a word to my captain, madam," he said.
She gritted her teeth. Her voice huskier than ever, laying the gentlest stress of compulsion on her words,
she said, "My house is no' so far. I am sure I shall be safe. I shall drive on."
His fair skin reddening, he said stubbornly, "I think ye had best have a word to my captain."
Again she repeated her words, the stress stronger this time, but although he felt uncomfortable, he did not
waver, opening the carriage door for her and holding up his hand to assist her out. She knew a stubborn,
inflexible nature when she saw one and gave in gracefully.
The captain of the company was in his tent. The sergeant lifted the flap for her respectfully but inexorably,
and she ducked her head and went in. At once her heart lifted. She recognized the captain, a young,
handsome man with a discontented expression. He had been one of her customers at the House of
Wanton Delights, a young laird who had given her every coin he had to spend a whole night with her. He
had grown obsessed with her, visiting her many times before riding out with the Young Pretender's army.
Much of Maya's hoard of gold had been seduced from his pocket.
The captain looked up as she entered and was immediately transfixed. She smiled at him and gave him
her hand.
"Well met," she said huskily. He said nothing, just brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it
passionately.
Maya fanned herself and rested her head on her hand. It was hot and stuffy within the confines of the
carriage and the road here was rough, so that she had been badly jarred as the carriage rattled and
shook its way forward.
It had been a long and wearying journey through the soldier-occupied fields of southern Blessem. Once
she had traveled beyond the battlefront she had at least seen green fields and blossoming orchards again,
