Bright Raven Skies

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Bright Raven Skies Page 1

by Kristina Perez




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  Sisters are made, not born.

  For all of mine, on both sides of the Atlantic.

  DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

  IVERNIC ROYAL FAMILY

  KING ÓENGUS, HIGH KING OF IVERIU—father of True Queen Eseult of Kernyv, uncle to Lady Branwen, holds his court at Castle Rigani in the Province of Rigani

  QUEEN ESEULT OF IVERIU—mother of True Queen Eseult of Kernyv, aunt to Lady Branwen, sister to Lady Alana and Lord Morholt, originally from the Province of Laiginztir

  IVERNIC NOBILITY

  LADY BRANWEN CUALAND OF LAIGINZTIR—Royal Healer to King Marc of Kernyv, heir to Castle Bodwa, cousin to True Queen Eseult of Kernyv, niece of Queen Eseult and King Óengus of Iveriu, daughter of Lady Alana and Lord Caedmon

  LORD DIARMUID PARTHALÁN OF ULADZTIR—heir to Talamu Castle, descendant of High King Eógan Mugmedón, son of Lord Rónán and Lady Fionnula, former love interest of True Queen Eseult of Kernyv

  SIR BEARACH OF ULADZTIR—an Iverman in the service of Lord Diarmuid, a member of the Parthalán clan

  LADY ALANA CUALAND OF LAIGINZTIR (deceased)—mother of Branwen, Lady of Castle Bodwa, sister to Queen Eseult and Lord Morholt

  LORD CAEDMON CUALAND OF LAIGINZTIR (deceased)—father of Branwen, Lord of Castle Bodwa

  LORD MORHOLT LABRADA OF LAIGINZTIR (deceased)—uncle to Branwen, former King’s Champion, brother to Queen Eseult and Lady Alana

  MEMBERS OF THE ROYAL IVERNIC HOUSEHOLD

  SIR FINTAN OF CASTLE RIGANI—member of the Royal Ivernic Guard and bodyguard to Queen Eseult

  TREVA OF CASTLE RIGANI—head royal cook

  DUBTHACH OF CASTLE RIGANI—servant at the castle, son of Noirín

  NOIRÍN OF CASTLE RIGANI—castle seamstress, mother of Dubthach

  MASTER BÉCC OF CASTLE RIGANI—former royal tutor to True Queen Eseult and Lady Branwen

  SAOIRSE—from the coastal village of Doogort, an assistant to Queen Eseult in the infirmary at Castle Rigani

  GRÁINNE—an orphan girl from the Rock Road befriended by True Queen Eseult

  SIR KEANE OF CASTLE RIGANI (deceased)—member of the Royal Ivernic Guard and former bodyguard to True Queen Eseult, from a coastal village along the Rock Road

  KERNYVAK ROYAL FAMILY

  KING MARC OF KERNYV—husband of True Queen Eseult, uncle to Prince Tristan of Kernyv, brother to Princess Gwynedd, son of King Merchion and Queen Verica of Kernyv

  TRUE QUEEN ESEULT OF KERNYV—wife of King Marc of Kernyv, daughter to King Óengus and Queen Eseult of Iveriu, cousin of Lady Branwen, niece to Lord Morholt

  PRINCE TRISTAN OF KERNYV—heir to Castle Wragh and the protectorate of Liones, nephew of King Marc of Kernyv, Queen’s Champion to True Queen Eseult, son of Princess Gwynedd and Prince Hanno, grandson of King Merchion and Queen Verica of Kernyv, cousin to Ruan, Endelyn, and Andred

  PRINCE RUAN OF KERNYV—son of Prince Edern and Countess Kensa, King’s Champion and cousin to King Marc, heir to House Whel, older brother to Princess Endelyn and Prince Andred, cousin to Tristan

  PRINCESS ENDELYN OF KERNYV—daughter of Prince Edern and Countess Kensa, lady-in-waiting to True Queen Eseult of Iveriu, sister to Prince Ruan and Prince Andred, cousin to King Marc and Prince Tristan

  PRINCE ANDRED OF KERNYV—son of Prince Edern and Countess Kensa, king’s cupbearer and cousin to King Marc, younger brother of Prince Ruan and Princess Endelyn, cousin to Tristan

  COUNTESS KENSA WHEL OF ILLOGAN—head of House Whel, widow of Prince Edern, mother of Prince Ruan, Princess Endelyn, and Prince Andred, aunt to King Marc and Prince Tristan, sister-in-law of Queen Verica; Villa Illogan and the other lands belonging to House Whel are located on the south coast

  DOWAGER QUEEN VERICA OF KERNYV (deceased)—mother of King Marc and Princess Gwynedd, grandmother of Prince Tristan, widow of King Merchion, originally from the Kingdom of Meonwara

  KING MERCHION OF KERNYV (deceased)—father of King Marc and Princess Gwynedd, husband to Queen Verica, older brother to Prince Edern

  PRINCE EDERN OF KERNYV (deceased)—younger brother of King Merchion, husband of Countess Kensa, father of Prince Ruan, Princess Endelyn, and Prince Andred

  PRINCE HANNO OF LIONES (deceased)—father of Tristan, navigator with the Royal Kernyvak Fleet who became a prince through marriage to Princess Gwynedd of Kernyv; his ancestors came to Kernyv with the Aquilan legions from Kartago

  PRINCESS GWYNEDD OF KERNYV (deceased)—mother of Tristan, older sister to King Marc, daughter of King Merchion and Queen Verica

  GREAT KING KATWALADRUS (deceased)—king at the time the Aquilan Empire withdrew from the island of Albion to the southern continent; decreed that southerners could remain in Kernyv; started the raids on Iveriu that have persisted for a century

  CONCHOBAR (deceased)—true father of Prince Ruan and Princess Endelyn, an Ivernic prisoner of war

  KERNYVAK NOBILITY

  BARON ANIUD CHYANHAL—head of House Chyanhal, one of the five largest baronies in Kernyv granted by Great King Katwaladrus; House Chyanhal’s lands lie in the north, bordering on the Kingdom of Ordowik

  BARON BRYTAEL DYNYON—head of House Dynyon, one of the five largest baronies in Kernyv granted by Great King Katwaladrus; House Dynyon’s lands are adjacent to Liones and used to comprise some of Prince Tristan’s territories

  BARON CINGUR GWYK—head of House Gwyk, one of the five largest baronies in Kernyv granted by Great King Katwaladrus; House Gwyk’s lands lie to the east, bordering the Kingdom of Meonwara

  LORD DOANE GWYK—eldest son of Baron Gwyk

  BARON MAELOC JULYAN—head of House Julyan, one of the five largest baronies in Kernyv granted by Great King Katwaladrus; House Julyan’s lands are located close to Monwiku and the Port of Marghas

  LADY NEALA JULYAN—eldest daughter of Baron Julyan

  BARON RYD KERDU—head of House Kerdu, one of the five largest baronies in Kernyv granted by Great King Katwaladrus; House Kerdu’s lands are located on the north coast

  MEMBERS OF THE ROYAL KERNYVAK HOUSEHOLD

  SEER CASEK—chief kordweyd of the temple in Marghas

  SEER OGRIN—kordweyd who runs a rural temple on the moors

  SIR GORON OF HEYL—former sword master to King Marc and Prince Tristan, King’s Champion to the late King Merchion of Kernyv

  MORGAWR—Captain of the Dragon Rising, member of the Royal Kernyvak Fleet

  LOWENEK—an orphan girl rescued by Branwen from the mining disaster

  TALORC—an Iverman who resides at Seer Ogrin’s temple

  MASSEN OF MONWIKU CASTLE—a stable boy

  WENNA OF MONWIKU CASTLE—widow of Tutir

  TUTIR OF MONWIKU CASTLE (deceased)—member of the Royal Kernyvak Guard

  BLEDROS OF MONWIKU CASTLE (deceased)—member of the Royal Kernyvak Guard

  FREOC OF MONWIKU CASTLE (deceased)—servant in the castle kitchens

  ARMORICAN ROYAL FAMILY

  KING FARAMON OF ARMORICA—
father to Crown Prince Havelin, Prince Kahedrin, and Princess Eseult Alba

  QUEEN YEDRA OF ARMORICA—mother of Princess Eseult Alba, stepmother of Crown Prince Havelin and Prince Kahedrin, originally from the Melita Isles and a distant cousin to Xandru Manduca

  CROWN PRINCESS ESEULT ALBA OF ARMORICA—daughter of King Faramon, younger half-sister to Crown Prince Havelin and Prince Kahedrin

  CROWN PRINCE HAVELIN OF ARMORICA (deceased)—son of King Faramon, older brother to Prince Kahedrin and half-brother to Princess Eseult Alba

  PRINCE KAHEDRIN OF ARMORICA (deceased)—son of King Faramon, younger brother to Crown Prince Havelin, older half-brother to Princess Eseult Alba

  QUEEN RIMOETE OF ARMORICA (deceased)—mother of Crown Prince Havelin and Prince Kahedrin

  MEMBERS OF THE ROYAL ARMORICAN HOUSEHOLD

  LADY SOFANA—head of the Queen’s Guard and Queen’s Champion to Queen Yedra of Armorica, a member of the Melitan Guardians

  SIR YANNICK—a member of the Royal Armorican Fleet

  CREW OF THE MAWORT

  XANDRU MANDUCA—Captain of the Mawort, friend to King Marc of Kernyv, and a member of the powerful Manduca family, a mercantile dynasty from the Melita Isles; distant cousin to Queen Yedra of Armorica

  CHERLES—crewmember of the Mawort, from the Melita Isles

  DWARDU—crewmember of the Mawort, from the Kingdom of Míl

  IERMU—crewmember of the Mawort, from the Melita Isles

  SPIRU—crewmember of the Mawort, from the Melita Isles

  OTHO—crewmember of the Mawort

  PETRA—wife of Otho

  PART I

  THUNDER WITHOUT RAIN

  SMOKE AND ASH

  MONWIKU CASTLE SMOLDERED. Kernyv was at war.

  And so, too, was Iveriu.

  Despite the mist from the moors, Branwen wiped hot sweat from her brow. Her mount thundered across the grass and her joints ached, unaccustomed to the stallion’s gait.

  When dawn had lit the carnage at the castle, the True Queen of Kernyv was nowhere to be found. Neither was her Champion.

  The howl of a lonely wind rushed over Branwen, troubling the bushes of spiky yellow gorse scattered across the moorland. She pressed on.

  Tristan and Eseult were missing, presumed kidnapped by the Armoricans.

  Branwen urged her stallion faster, desperate, searching. King Marc judged that the Armoricans would try to abscond with his wife by sea. The Royal Guardsmen left standing after the attack had been scouring the northern coast all day for any sign of either the queen or the king’s nephew.

  Laughter like the sea’s murkiest fathoms swelled in Branwen’s mind. Deep down, she didn’t believe that Queen Eseult had been taken by the Armoricans. Not least because the small boats and dinghies used to stage the attack had all been destroyed.

  No, the truth was that her cousin, whom Branwen had once considered closer than a sister, had abandoned her husband. Her duty to Iveriu. Her honor. She had run away with Tristan—the first man Branwen had ever loved.

  It wouldn’t be long before Ivernic shores were once more razed, deluged with broken bodies. Branwen had failed in her most important mission. She’d traded her heart for peace but they had both turned to ash.

  Dark fire simmered beneath her skin. The Old Ones, the Otherworld guardians of her island kingdom, had imbued Branwen with primordial magic to defend her cousin and her homeland.

  But she was sick of saving Eseult and Tristan.

  Dirt sprayed into the air from beneath her mount’s hooves. In the distance, she spied the enormous arches of the Aquilan water bridge that hulked over the moors. Rubicund snakestone glistened in the late afternoon sun.

  Branwen recalled her first day in Kernyv. There had been a disaster at the mine that lay in the shadow of the great arches. A burst floodgate had buried men alive; others were maimed by rubble, their limbs contorted.

  She shivered. The disaster was nothing compared with the slaughter at the castle. When the Old Ones had refused to answer her pleas, Branwen bargained with Dhusnos instead—the Dark One who ruled the Sea of the Dead.

  To save Monwiku, to save King Marc, Branwen had made a terrible choice.

  She would have to live with the horror that she’d unleashed. The unnatural deaths wrought by the Shades.

  “Branwen!” called Ruan from up ahead, interrupting her spiraling thoughts.

  The King’s Champion had brought his horse to a halt beside the Stone of Waiting. Visible for leagues in every direction, the emerald-colored longstone reminded Branwen of a crooked finger. Ruan claimed that if you waited here on a full moon night the face of your true love would be revealed.

  The Kernyveu had a penchant for outlandish stories.

  Branwen grunted and dug the heel of her boot into her stallion’s flank. She no longer believed in true love, but there was a kernel of truth in the superstition. The Stone of Waiting marked a place of in-between. A place where the Veil between this world and the Otherworld thinned. A place that belonged wholly to neither realm.

  As she drew closer to Ruan, his mane of dirty blond hair, sweat streaked, wavered in the breeze. He was not only the King’s Champion but also the man who frequently shared Branwen’s bed.

  She still marveled that she knew what he looked like without his clothes.

  Ruan rubbed his knuckle against his lower lip, brow crinkled in concern as Branwen approached. He’d objected to her joining the rescue party for fear of her safety, but King Marc overruled him. The king had witnessed Branwen’s powers during the battle.

  Ruan was dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, as was she. Clothes now stained with dirt and other people’s blood. He scanned the flat moors around them and the Morrois Forest to the west, one hand tensed on the pommel of his sword.

  “You look exhausted,” he told her, face softening. When he smiled, Ruan’s eyes became a brilliant topaz and he developed a prominent dimple on his chin.

  He spoke to Branwen in her own language, as he always did when they were alone. Branwen was the only person besides his mother and sister who knew that Ruan was not the heir to Prince Edern—King Marc’s uncle—but the bastard son of an Ivernic prisoner of war.

  With a mischievous tilt to her mouth, Branwen replied, “Mormerkti,” in Kernyvak. Thank you. “As do you.” But she was. She was so exhausted she felt nearly intoxicated.

  Branwen sidled her mount next to Ruan’s, and he stroked a hand over her long, tangled black locks. He lifted a small swath of her curls—they had turned whiter than a Death-Teller. A breath buckled in her throat as if she’d seen one of the Otherworld women who presaged your demise.

  “Are you well, Branwen?” Ruan said, his voice low. “I didn’t think fear could truly bleach someone’s hair.”

  It wasn’t fear that had whitened her curls. It was magic. Her life force was tied to her powers, and she’d used a tremendous amount fighting the Armoricans.

  Branwen shrugged him off. “I’m as well as can be with my cousin missing.”

  Ruan held her gaze for a charged moment. Her statement was a challenge, a dare to see if he would tell her what he was really thinking. He’d long suspected Tristan and Eseult’s relationship to be more than simply that of a queen and her Champion.

  If her cousin’s betrayals brought more war to Iveriu, perhaps Branwen should let her burn. The thought was treasonous, but then, the True Queen had already tried to assassinate her.

  Coughing pointedly, Ruan offered Branwen the waterskin dangling from his saddle. “Here. Drink,” he said. “With Lugmarch’s blessing.”

  She accepted and drank thirstily. Lugmarch was reputedly made the first king of Kernyv after ridding the land of giants by serving them tainted mead.

  Another ridiculous Kernyvak tale.

  “Night approaches,” Ruan noted offhandedly, watching the shifting clouds, their undersides painted with pink light. “We’ll have to call a halt to the search.” He may have affected a casual manner, but Branwen knew better.

 
As she returned the leather waterskin to him, his hand caught on hers; he removed the waterskin and turned her right palm skyward. Branwen gritted her teeth at the ache in her swollen wrist, which had deepened to a mottled purple from her struggle with the assassin.

  Ruan’s eyes widened. There was no ignoring the blackened scar in the center of her palm.

  After her deal with Dhusnos, the Hand of Bríga had changed shape and darkened.

  Branwen was grateful that Ruan wasn’t versed in the ancient Ivernic language of trees. If he were, he’d be able to read exactly what Branwen had become:

  Slayer. Killer.

  “It’s nothing,” she said. Wind teased her cerulean cloak.

  “Branwen.” Frustration edged her name. “I saw those … those creatures. Did one of them hurt you?”

  She shook her head. The Shades had defended Branwen because she’d allied herself with their master. Half man, half a carnivorous seabird known to the Kernyveu as a kretarv, the Shades were hideous to behold.

  Their souls were condemned, indentured to Dhusnos for eternity. They sustained themselves by feasting on those with a beating heart, human or animal. Sucking the life from them, making their flesh wither. The Shades had laid waste to the Armoricans in stomach-turning fashion.

  “Please, Branwen,” Ruan said. “I can see the gears of your mind turning.”

  In exchange for their aid, Branwen had made a vow to the Dark One. By the New Year festival of Samonios, she would provide him with another wretched soul to crew his spectral ships. If she didn’t, he would take the soul of someone she loved.

  A fresh shiver racked her shoulders. Ruan traced his forefinger along the black stain, a tender yet demanding gesture.

  “The creatures didn’t touch me,” she assured him. “I burned myself. It’s not serious.” Ruan parted his lips to protest and Branwen pressed a finger to them. “I’m the Royal Healer, and I would know.”

  She saw another rebuke in his eyes, but a shout rose from the forest. A man’s voice. “Someone’s been found,” Ruan said, translating the Kernyvak.

 

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