Blood of Ravens

by Jen McIntosh

  ‘My apologies, my Lord,’ he replied. ‘I came to deliver a message from the Lady – Renila’s son is to become my new squire.’

  Lord Alvar’s eyes snapped to Renila. ‘Your son?’ Renila nodded, keeping her eyes on the floor. The Lord was quiet for a long moment, and when he spoke, his voice was shaking. ‘How old is he?’ he asked. Renila glanced up then and quailed at the strength and range of emotions churning in those eyes. Rage, grief, guilt, shock, love …

  ‘Twelve, my Lord,’ she whispered, unable to find any strength in her voice. He flinched but didn’t look away.

  ‘What’s his name?’ the Lord asked, unshed tears glittering in his eyes.

  ‘Erion,’ she answered. Lord Alvar staggered and gripped the door frame for support. Renila and Farran exchanged a worried glance, and Farran reached for the Lord. But Alvar wrenched out of his grasp.

  ‘I’m fine,’ he snarled. ‘Return to your post, Captain.’

  Farran looked between Lord Alvar and Renila, but when the Lord let out a warning growl, he bowed and made to leave.

  He paused on the threshold and glanced back at Renila. ‘Sorry, I forgot – the Lady also wanted me to tell you to report to Mal in the morning,’ he told her with a guilty frown. Then he left. Lord Alvar entered the room and closed the door behind him.

  ‘Get up, Renila,’ he ordered. ‘I’m not my wife. Don’t ever grovel in front of me again.’

  Renila stood, her legs trembling. She didn’t ask how he knew her name. She had once thought the Lady to be terrifying, but this man was something else. If she had run away from him, she was beginning to understand why.

  ‘Yes, my Lord,’ she murmured. Lord Alvar crossed the room and gripped her chin between long fingers, forcing her head up to look at him. He was breathtakingly handsome. At a glance, he looked perhaps thirty – perhaps younger – with sun-kissed skin that bordered on bronze. His nose was long and straight, and his lips were pressed into a stern line. His jaw and cheekbones looked sharp enough to cut with, and his eyes were the most terrifyingly beautiful thing she had ever seen. But they were full of unimaginable rage and pain.

  She had seen eyes like those before. Years ago, there had been an old man living in the castle. Farran’s predecessor – an old soldier who had fought in several wars over his long life. His eyes had always fascinated and horrified Renila. They were eyes that had seen too much and lived too long. Lord Alvar’s eyes were the same. Though how such a young man could have eyes that were so old was beyond her.

  His fingers were warm against her skin, and she felt something stir in her gut at the contact. Some strange part of her yearned towards it, but the other part – the part that loved Farran – recoiled.

  ‘Don’t call me that,’ he begged. ‘My name is Alvar. Please. Use it.’

  ‘The Lady would have me flogged if I dared to show such familiarity with my Lord,’ she warned him, stepping back. Alvar’s shoulders slumped, though his eyes flashed again.

  ‘Raiden help me, how did you become so meek?’ he whispered, almost to himself. Then he shook himself and held her gaze. ‘The Lady isn’t here, and I won’t tell her if you don’t.’

  Renila hesitated, but she needed to keep him close if she was to find out the truth. ‘Alright,’ she agreed. ‘Please, Lord Alvar, would you like to sit?’ He rolled his eyes at her compromise but lowered himself into the proffered chair.

  ‘You never could do as you were told,’ he muttered, stretching his long legs out in front of the fire.

  Renila blinked and sat across from him. ‘How do you know that?’

  Alvar glanced up, his eyes filled with unfathomable sorrow. ‘It’s a long story.’

  ‘I like stories,’ she said, with a mischievous grin twitching on her lips. She caught herself and leaned back in her chair. The Lady really would have her flogged if she saw such behaviour. It was not her place.

  ‘I know,’ Alvar said, ‘but that’s not why I’m here. Gaelan and I are dining with the children tonight … I can’t imagine it will be easy for them and they shouldn’t have to face this alone. The stable boy said you were closest to them of anyone here, so I was hoping you would join us?’

  Renila stared. ‘The Lady dismissed me from their service,’ she explained. ‘As you heard, I’ve been reassigned to the kitchens. It would not be appropriate for me to dine with the family.’

  ‘I don’t care about what’s appropriate,’ Alvar snapped. ‘This is my home too – I can override Gaelan’s orders and have you assigned to the twins if that’s what you want?’

  ‘The Lady won’t like it,’ she whispered. Alvar leaned forward and held her gaze.

  ‘Fuck what the Lady likes,’ he breathed. He stood in a fluid, elegant motion and smirked down at her. ‘See you at dinner. Wear something nice,’ he said with a wink. Then he turned and left.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lucan fidgeted with the cuff of his shirt sleeve while he waited for Suriya to join him. They’d been woken at dawn by the tolling of the warning bell and only learned much later that it had signalled Lord Alvar’s arrival … their mother’s husband. Their father.

  The Lady had refused to let them meet him so far. Not long after he’d arrived, she had appeared in their room in a foul mood and instructed a legion of servants to remove all the contents of their suite. Their rooms were to be given to the Lord of the castle.

  Now they each had a room of their own. In fairness to their mother, they’d at least been allowed to remain close to each other, separated only by a short hallway, in the two rooms nearest each other in the castle that were not part of an adjoining suite. Suriya appeared less pleased about the situation than he was. But then, he was being given lessons with Captain Farran, while she was facing days alone cooped up in the castle with their mother.

  As if summoned by the thought, her bedroom door opened, and his sister stepped out into the hallway. His jaw fell open in shock – the maids had been busy. He hardly recognised her.

  She was beautiful. Her golden hair was swept up and pinned in a mass of curls and braids on the back of her head. She wore an exquisite gown of rose-gold silk, embroidered with dark bronze thread that covered the fitted bodice in swirling flames. The design caught his attention, some instinct telling him it was important, but he couldn’t think why. Around her throat was a necklace he had never seen before. The chain was a delicate rope of rose-gold and, in the pendant, was set a large, dark garnet that seemed to flicker as if a candle burned within.

  ‘Yes?’ she snapped.

  Realising that he was still staring, Lucan closed his mouth with an audible snap and shrugged. ‘Sorry. You just look … different.’

  Part of him wanted to laugh at her for looking so much the part of the Lady’s daughter, but he was stunned – and not a little perturbed – by her transformation. Suriya scowled. She was just as uncomfortable wearing the dress as he was seeing her in it.

  ‘You’re not much better,’ she retorted, gesturing at his own outfit. He had to agree. He’d been forced into a pair of smoke-grey trousers, which were tucked into a polished pair of boots he hadn’t even known he owned. And completing the outfit was a shirt of silver satin and a waistcoat of dark blue velvet embroidered with silver thread. His buttons were all set with moonstones that matched his eyes, and his hair had been brushed until it gleamed. As Suriya’s eyes skirted his forehead, he remembered that the maid had smoothed his hair back from his brow. He scowled, ruffling it forward to cover his birthmark.

  ‘Shall we?’ he asked, offering her his arm. She took it and allowed him to lead her downstairs.

  They’d been summoned to dinner. Given the clothes, they could only assume it was to be with the Lord and Lady. Suriya was nervous. He could feel her hand trembling on his arm, and her breathing was shallow and rapid. If he was being honest, he shared her discomfort. His own heart was hammering in his chest, and he felt like he might throw up at any moment.

  ‘What if he doesn’t like us?’ Suriya whispered, voicing the
fear in both their minds.

  Lucan glanced sideways at her but kept walking and tried not to sound too bitter. ‘If this is the first time we’re meeting the man, I’m not sure he gets to have an opinion. I just hope he lets Renila and Erion stay.’

  ‘Gods,’ Suriya swore. ‘I’d almost forgotten. Do you think Erion will ever forgive us?’

  ‘I don’t know what there is to forgive,’ Lucan sighed. ‘He’s the one making ridiculous accusations. I mean, come on? Magic and Darklings? They’re fairy tales, Renila’s bedtime stories.’

  ‘But he believed what he was saying,’ Suriya said, stopping and tugging him round to face her. ‘Erion wouldn’t lie, Lucan – not to us.’

  He frowned. She wasn’t wrong. Something tugged at his memory, but a haze descended, making it hard for him to think. He shook his head to clear it and sighed in frustration. It had become a regular occurrence since their adventure in the Ravenswood. Whenever he tried to remember what had happened, his mind just turned to mush. ‘Maybe he’s telling the truth. Maybe we’re remembering wrong?’ he reasoned before the smog thickened once more. He shook his head again. ‘Never mind,’ he muttered, turning away.

  But Suriya held him fast. ‘You’re getting it too, aren’t you?’

  He didn’t need to ask what she meant. ‘It’s like the winter fogs … when it gets so thick you can barely see your hand in front of your face.’

  ‘And it clings to every thought, muddles them around when you try to remember what happened?’ she continued for him. He didn’t need to answer. She knew him well enough to read it on his face.

  ‘What happened to us?’ he muttered. Then he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. ‘How could anything do that to us?’

  Suriya’s eyes skirted his birthmark again, and he saw a glimmer of understanding dawn there. But before he could press her on it, she said, ‘A better question is, why isn’t Erion affected?’

  He opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. Captain Farran rounded the corner, dressed in his uniform with the Lady’s crest – a silver owl crowned in starlight against a sky of midnight-blue – emblazoned on his chest. Lucan frowned. The Captain almost never wore his full uniform. But Lucan wasn’t given the time to think on it.

  ‘Come on, you two,’ Farran said, shooing them down the hall. ‘Your mother is waiting.’

  The twins sighed with distaste but allowed themselves to be chased into the dining room.

  The long table was covered with a cloth of midnight velvet and set with chargers and goblets of solid silver. Tapers flickered in matching candlesticks, and there was a fire roaring in the hearth. The Lady herself was nowhere to be seen, but Lord Alvar stood by the fire staring into its depths. His head was bowed, shoulders slumped, but as the twins entered, he straightened and turned to face them. His expression was grim, but not unkind. Suriya curtseyed while Lucan bowed.

  ‘Please – you need not bow to me,’ Lord Alvar murmured. His voice was deep but melodic and enchanting, and though he had spoken gently, Lucan felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

  ‘I’m sorry, Father,’ he said, looking at his feet. Lord Alvar winced at the address, but he crossed the room and placed a reassuring hand on Lucan’s shoulder.

  ‘Don’t be,’ he said. ‘You must be Lucan?’

  Lucan smiled and nodded, gazing up into the face of his father. ‘Yes, sir,’ he managed to whisper. Lord Alvar smiled and ruffled his hair before turning to Suriya.

  ‘Which would make you Suriya?’ Unable to find her voice and still trembling, she could only nod once. Lord Alvar frowned as he looked between the two of them. Then he knelt, taking their hands in his own. ‘You need never fear me,’ he told them. ‘I am not the Lady Gaelan, and I will never ask you to be anything other than what you are. I know very little about either of you, but I am already proud of you both.’

  ‘Really?’ Lucan whispered despite himself.

  Lord Alvar nodded.

  ‘Look at you both,’ he breathed, looking up at them in wonder. ‘Like the sun and the moon, lighting up the darkness. You have my love and my trust, and I hope that one day you can bless me with the same gifts in return.’

  An icy voice spoke from behind them. ‘Very sweet. But why is the table set for six?’ Lord Alvar’s purple-grey eyes darkened, and he stood, turning to face the Lady.

  ‘I asked Renila to join us,’ he said, ‘after I reinstated her as Suriya and Lucan’s nursemaid. I thought it might be easier for them if they had a kind, familiar face present.’

  The Lady’s face turned ugly, and there was murder in those terrifying eyes. ‘First, Suriya and Lucan have decided that they no longer wish to be treated as children and therefore do not require a nursemaid. And second, that would only account for one of the extra two places. Who is the other one for?’

  ‘My understanding was that Renila had a son – a boy named Erion who is a good friend of both Suriya and Lucan. I assumed he would join us,’ said Lord Alvar, but Lucan could hear the hard edge of warning in there.

  The Lady, however, ignored it. ‘Not a chance. That boy is nothing but trouble. I will not tolerate him at my table.’

  ‘It’s my table too, Gaelan,’ Lord Alvar warned. Then he paused and took a deep breath. ‘Besides, the place is already set.’

  The Lady Gaelan opened her mouth to argue, but the door opened once more and through it stepped Captain Farran with Renila on his arm.

  Lucan’s jaw fell open for the second time that evening. If Suriya was beautiful, Renila was magnificent. Her wild mane of wine-red curls was partially pinned up, barely contained by a few delicate braids while the rest tumbled down her back. She wore a gown of cream velvet, trimmed with gold, that hugged her hips and waist but left her shoulders bare. Around her neck was a chain of fine gold, a pendant shaped like a bird in flight lying over her heart.

  Suriya reached over and closed his mouth, elbowing him in the side to get his attention as she looked at Lord Alvar. Lucan glanced over but shrugged in confusion. Their father looked just as surprised by Renila’s transformation as the rest of them. Suriya rolled her eyes but let it go.

  Renila glanced at Lord Alvar, but the nervousness of that look was nothing compared to the fear in her eyes when she looked to the Lady Gaelan. Lucan followed her gaze and felt his own heart beat just a little faster at the rage in his mother’s eyes. He didn’t understand it. Was his mother worried that Renila was prettier than her? He’d heard that women worried about such things, but he’d never understood it. His mother and Renila were both beautiful, in their own ways. He wasn’t sure one was better than the other. Wasn’t it just a matter of opinion?

  Suriya nudged him again, though it felt more like she had nudged his mind than his ribs, and he glanced back to Lord Alvar. Then he understood. Lord Alvar thought Renila was more beautiful than the Lady. The thought made Lucan irrationally angry. Was this the reason his father had been absent his entire life? Did Lord Alvar love Renila more than his own wife? Scowling, he crossed the room and sat beside his mother in an impulsive display of loyalty.

  The Lady blinked in surprise. She stared at him for a moment before a rare smile twitched on her lips. The transformative power that smile had was astounding. The warmth of it cracked the icy surface that made her so remote, and the light of her shone through. He took her hand under the table and squeezed it. There was a moment of hesitation, but then her cool fingers tightened around his, and she nodded in thanks. They glanced around together, to see if anyone had witnessed the exchange. Lucan knew Suriya had, but Lord Alvar and Captain Farran were still fixated on Renila.

  ‘Will your son be joining us?’ Lord Alvar was asking.

  ‘I didn’t think that would be a good idea,’ she whispered with a nervous glance at the Lady. Lucan felt his mother stiffen beside him, but she remained silent.

  ‘Captain Farran,’ Lucan called out. ‘Why don’t you join us?’

  Suriya looked at him incredulously as she
slid into the seat opposite him, and the Captain started in shock, looking to the Lady for direction. But she just inclined her head and gestured to the seat next to Lucan.

  ‘Shall we?’ asked Lord Alvar, pulling the chair next to Suriya out for Renila. Farran scowled as he watched Lord Alvar seat Renila, but he said nothing as he lowered himself into the place the Lady had indicated. Lord Alvar sat at the end of the table, opposite the Lady. Between Renila and Farran.

  Lucan’s mother said nothing, but he could sense the tension rolling off her in waves as she raised an imperious hand to signal to the waiting servants. Lucan looked at his sister, who pulled a face in response. This was going to be an interesting meal.

  Under different circumstances, Suriya might have sighed in contentment at the pleasantly full feeling in her belly. Dinner had been delicious – a starter of creamy chestnut soup with warm bread, goat’s cheese and smoked duck breast; then a course of trout wrapped in bacon with a salad of summer greens; followed by a whole suckling pig stuffed with apples and mushrooms, covered in a rich plum sauce and served with buttered leeks and roasted carrots.

  She was fit to burst when the servants entered the room and placed her dessert before her. Pears poached in wine and honey, strawberries and cream, and apple tarts shaped like budding roses. At least Lucan would polish off anything she wasn’t able to eat. Her brother had wolfed down everything that had been set in front of him with reckless abandon. The thought of it turned her stomach.

  Lucan glanced up and met her eye, blushing. She gave a quiet sigh of exasperation and smiled at him. But inside, she was worried. More and more it appeared he could read her thoughts, even when he wasn’t looking at her. And the opposite was also true. Sometimes, it was as if she knew what Lucan was thinking before he did. As if their minds had become entangled somehow, if such a thing was even possible. It had all started—