She was, however, as Zahnin had described her, quite beautiful.
Light brown hair, green eyes, a pixie-pretty face and very petite. Her ass and breasts were not much to write home about but her skin was
peaches and cream all over and there was something delicate about her, something graceful even as she stood still. Something that many men, not Zahnin (I would have thought before that moment), would be drawn to in a protective way.
But clearly I was wrong about Zahnin.
Nevertheless, this would not help Zahnin. He was not as tall as Lahn but he was still tall and extremely muscled. Lahn dwarfed me and I was average height. This girl was small and Zahnin must seem like a giant to her.
I stepped forward and her eyes shot to me before going back to Zahnin.
“Hello,” I said quietly in English and her gaze moved quickly back to me, “I am Circe, Queen of Korwahk.”
She stared at me.
I took another cautious step forward and went on softly, “We’re here to help; you’re safe.”
I watched her swallow then lick her lips but she did not speak.
Another step forward and then I said, “Can you tell me your name?”
She blinked at me, bit her lower lip and then quickly she said something in a language I recognized with one of the words being,
“Valearian.”
She was speaking French.
Shit.
I took French in high school for two years but that was high school. It had been ages. I recognized it but there was no way in hell I could speak it.
“She is Fleuridian, my dear,” Diandra whispered to me. “A language I do not know.”
Great, they didn’t call France France and Diandra didn’t speak Fleuridian (or whatever).
Shit again!
“Uh…” I began, pulling up my high school French, “bonjour,” I tried. “Je m’appelle Circe.”
Her eyes grew big, then they grew wet, then her hands came up clasped in front of her and she shot rapid fire French at me all the while her eyes slide back and forth between me and Zahnin.
I didn’t catch a lick of it.
Shit, shit, shit!
I smiled at her, lifted my hand, she stopped speaking and I turned my head slightly to Diandra, “Is there anyone in the Daxshee who speaks her language?”
“Yes, Circe, several and I know of someone who will be happy to help. She, like me, has been here many years,” Diandra answered and turned to Zahnin and said in Korwahk. “Have one of your slaves find Claudine, wife of Veenuk.”
Zahnin scowled at her but jerked his chin then slapped out of the cham.
As he did, I watched the girl relax.
Not good.
I took another step to her and asked softly, “Comment tu t’appelles?” and she looked back at me, her eyes soft, her manner relieved.
“Sabine,” she whispered.
“Okay, Sabine, ma erm… Fleuridian no c’est bon, uh… but we’re getting help.”
She blinked at me then she nodded in a way that I knew she understood what I said in her language but not in my own.
Boy, I hoped Claudine lived close.
Zahnin slapped back into the tent and grunted something to Diandra and Sabine grew instantly tense.
I approached Zahnin, his eyes came to me, he still looked pissed, that look was still scary but I sucked it up, stopped close to him and whispered in Korwahk, “Your wife’s name is Sabine, did you know that?”
His head jerked so slightly I could convince myself I didn’t see it, same with a flash that flared in his eyes. But I didn’t miss the angry look slightly fading from his face as his head turned toward his bride and he murmured, “Sabine,” in his deep, rough voice making a pretty name even prettier.
He didn’t know his wife’s name but he was clearly glad to know it.
I pulled in a calming breath.
I could work with this.
I turned to Sabine who had wary eyes on her husband. I waited until they flitted to me and I smiled. My smile didn’t alleviate the fear shadowing her entire frame and I knew this was because Zahnin was in attendance.
