A Familiar DaggeR
Jaspur began a stealthy sweep for Rayhan’s lieutenant. Without magic to empower him, he couldn’t depend on his gift to work as it should. It was too risky, so the rogue kept a low profile, moving through the halls with the caution of a re’shahna scout. He walked on the balls of his feet as he slunk like a cat down curving walkways. Whenever a guard appeared, he would step aside and wait for signs of alarm.
After a couple of heart-racing encounters yielded no reaction from the elves, he suspected that Rayhan was the only one who could see him. The hunch gave Jaspur the courage to step out of the shadows more, and even allow himself a leisurely moment to admire the architecture that made Whitewood so enchanting.
Beyond his visions, Jaspur had never been to the elven kingdom before. Not as a prince, nor as a rogue. When he walked as Rayhan, he felt his cousin’s silent admiration for this place. Exploring it now with his own consciousness, Jaspur found himself constantly sweeping his jaw off the floor.
Bridges suspended by thick vines wound and curved like branches from the central tower. Though they swayed subtly with the wind, they were built from solid wood and stone. As he crossed one of them, Jaspur stared up through the canopy of trees.
More bridges stretched between multiple spires that twisted and diverged like ancient trees. This place was one with nature in ways that made his former castle’s courtyards and integrated river seem underwhelming.
Beyond the thick, living wall of shrubs and twisting vines sprawled a city that blurred the lines between structures and their environment. Magic surely played a role in its construction. Trees curled into the walls of several houses where others were built into mounds of earth.
Eventually, he circled back to the guest spire where he found Pip parting ways with Terreen and Gwan just outside their quarters. Jaspur drew cautiously closer. There was a twitch below the lieutenant’s nose. A clear sign that something had him on edge.
“Plans, lieutenant?” his guard asked.
“None whatsoever.” Pip waited until Rayhan’s advisors were out of sight before returning to his chamber.
Jaspur walked through the wall beside Pip’s guard, entering the room just as the lieutenant was swinging one leg over the balcony’s balustrade. Jaspur rushed forward, his ethereal hands slamming against the railing without a sound as he watched Pip make his escape.
The lieutenant slid down the spindles, his fists locking fast at their base. Swinging his boots beneath the balcony, he hooked his foot around one of the thick vines woven against the spire wall. The same vines crossed the bottom of the balcony, and Jaspur groaned inwardly as the lieutenant spider-walked his way to the stone wall.
With a deep breath, Jaspur hopped over the rail, mimicking Pip’s movements with slightly more hesitation. For a spirit, the world was incredibly tangible. He felt the abrasive scratch of stone and vine as he picked his way to the wrap-around balcony fifteen feet below.
It worried Jaspur. In the back of his mind, he wondered just how certain Rayhan had been when he said his friends would bring him back. There was little point in dwelling on it now. Nothing the rogue did could expedite his return to the present.
Jaspur dropped the last four feet and fell in step with Pip as the lieutenant slid behind a thick set of curtains. A quick scan of the room found it empty. Pip trotted across the room and walked straight out the door with a casual air.
A dizzying path full of what Jaspur was certain were unnecessary turns and bridges told the rogue that this was not Pip’s first time wandering unattended. He began to suspect foul play when they entered the palace’s royal wing.
This is it, Jaspur thought to himself. The start of Pip’s betrayal.
The lieutenant slid subtly into one of the servant closets where a large basket of dirty linens had been set aside. Shutting the door, he quietly threaded a broom through the handle and dug into the pile of uniforms until he found one that fit. Trading his clothes for the ornate, pale cotton tunic and decorative cape worn by royal servants, he flexed his ears back and pulled up the cowl.
Jaspur’s head shook in silent condemnation. When these visions began, he had considered the idea that maybe Pip had been loyal to his cousin in his early years of service, but now his cynicism returned.
It awoke an old fury Jaspur had harbored over the last eighteen years, fed well by all of the injustices life had piled upon him. The edge of his nose curled in a snarl as he stalked Pip all the way to the royal courtyard. The lieutenant barely made it three strides down the winding garden path when he froze.
Jaspur planted his feet, his ears perking in sync with Pip’s as voices lifted over the hedge. One of them carried the airy yet bleak tone of Halin Redwood.
“I agree. If this meeting with King Mekkai does not go as planned, I must take matters into my own hands,” the general spoke in a hushed voice that had both Pip and Jaspur leaning toward the hedge to listen. “But surely there are other ways to deal with this situation? What you suggest is treason.”
“No, friend. It is retribution! When we explain it to King Mekkai, he will understand. The re’shahna will back you.”
Pip mouthed the word ‘re’shahna’, uncertain of what to make of it.
Jaspur, on the other hand, knew very well. He stepped into the bushes, his spirit’s gaze peeking onto the other side where a gangly re’shahna with dark black dreads gelled it all together.
“Remind me again why you feel this is necessary, old friend?” There was doubt in Halin’s voice. A sign that he was a rationale man despite the torrent of emotions he carried from his wife’s murder.
“Rayhan Mendeley is no different than his father, except that he is more clever,” the re’shahna Jaspur recognized explained. “With his older brother choosing to run off and join the rebels known as gypsies, the boy is officially second in line for the throne. He has already charmed King Donovan. Now he is working his hand into Whitewood’s royal line. My people know the dance of a cobra when we see one, Halin. With Nevaharday’s prince still barely more than a child. How long do you think it will take for ambitious Captain Mendeley to clear his path to the throne?”
Halin frowned. “This is all just speculation. You have no evidence.”
“I wouldn’t suggest this if I was not certain it was true. Have I not proven my loyalty to the Redwood family? In the years I worked with Lady Elessara—may her spirit be at peace—I have warned you of the approaching Nevahardan army before the war began, led Elessara to safety after the refugee camp was attacked, and even tracked Siren for you after he murdered your wife.”
“Yes, you always seem to be at the right place, at the right time.” What was meant to be reassurance only seemed to feed Halin’s doubt. “Tell me, why are the re’shahna working so diligently against their own cousins?”
Shadow clapped a friendly hand upon the general’s shoulder while his free hand produced a jewel-encrusted dagger. He slid the blade into Halin’s hand, but not without Jaspur and Pip recognizing its hilt. A round, onyx augment stone formed the pommel, fixing it with a flame enchantment that could be triggered with a single thought. Siren Mendeley had acquired it during a battle shortly after Rayhan had been born.
“Because the re’shahna believe in justice, even if it is against our own kin.” Shadow’s voice, though quiet and discreet, carried a sympathy that sounded remarkably genuine. Jaspur watched as the tension in Halin’s shoulder melted away. His eyes seemed to drift into a cloudy stare as his hand clenched around the dagger’s grip. “The rahee of Nevaharday have forgotten their history and the moral fortitude that came with it. But the elves have not. Right, General?”
Pip’s chest rose and fell in a faster rhythm now, his eyes fixated on the bright reflection of the jewel encrusted hilt that flashed through the hedge’s leaves.
“No,” Halin replied in an awkward tone, as if his voice came from a distant source.
“Then take the Mendeley dagger,” the re’shahna pressed it gently against the elven
general’s chest and offered a coyote’s grin, “and put it where it belongs.”
Pip back-stepped the first two strides, then turned and made haste to the servant closet to change before warning Rayhan. There was no mistaking the threat behind the re’shahna’s words, cryptic as they were.
Jaspur followed, his own concerns mirroring Pip’s. He didn’t wait for the lieutenant to finish changing. He went straight to Rayhan’s chamber, hoping to catch the captain before he was escorted to his meeting with King Mekkai.
Jaspur had guessed that Pip was responsible for bringing down the alliance, but in the end that wasn’t true. It was Halin who had started the rift with the intent to murder Rayhan.
And Shadow Silverhorn had given him the blade to do it.
STAR-CROSSED LOVERS
By the time Jaspur found his way back to Rayhan’s guest chamber, it was too late. Rayhan was already halfway down the hall with Nadel and two other guards. They swept obliviously passed the rogue in a deliberate march toward His Majesty’s personal sitting room.
The cousins shared a brief glance and Rayhan stiffened when he saw the concern in Jaspur’s expression. An unspoken warning carried in that look that Rayhan didn’t know how to place. Was his lieutenant in trouble?
“Nadel,” Rayhan spoke up. “Would it be possible to have my lieutenant join this meeting?”
“If you desire Lieutenant Delgone to be in attendance, you will have to ask His Majesty to invite him upon our arrival, Captain. We can only bring those he has requested, and that list is limited to yourself, General Redwood, and Lady Elessara.”
“With the exception of you and your guards, correct?”
“Yes, myself and four other guards will be present in the room to ensure this meeting is conducted without incident. Are you concerned about your safety, Captain?”
“I am only cautious,” he replied. “This is a pivotal meeting, and there are many who do not wish to see this union come to fruition.”
Nadel gave a subtle nod. “Let me worry about security. That is my job, after all. You have enough to focus on with the delicate politics at hand.”
“Any suggestions?”
Nadel stopped in front of the door to the king’s chamber and motioned for the two other guards to enter first. He then lowered his voice so that only Rayhan would hear him.
“Show no affection toward Lady Elessara other than noble courtesy. Any display of attachment toward his daughter would lead the general to believe your motivations are more than political. This is about peace and a renewed alliance between our kingdoms. Everything you say in that room should reflect that one objective.”
Rayhan nodded and Nadel reached toward the door. Before he opened it, the rahee said, “We are becoming a fine team, you and I.”
A subtle smile creased Nadel’s lips. “Careful how you charm me, Captain. Should the proposal between you and Lady Elessara not work out, I may just have King Mekkai consider my own.”
Nadel opened the door and herded Rayhan inside, his eyes crinkled in amusement as he watched the rahenyan captain step forward with a baffled look on his face.
Rayhan stole one more glance at Nadel, who winked, then snapped his gaze straight ahead where King Mekkai sat on a chair adjacent to Elessara on the couch. He bowed before the king and took a seat beside Lady Elessara where he cleared his throat. Suddenly, past conversations regarding Rayhan’s romantic preferences began to make sense.
“Captain Mendeley,” King Mekkai greeted.
“Your Majesty.” It was straight to business, then. Rayhan looked around the room, but didn’t see the last of their party. Jaspur had slipped inside though. He saw his cousin’s spirit out of the corner of his eye as he slid into a small reading alcove. The candles there were unlit, making his semi-transparent form almost impossible to see. He was there, though. Watching. Perhaps it was meant to serve as a comfort, but it only unnerved the captain even more.
Soon, the door opened and General Redwood was escorted inside. With a quick bow, Halin sat down in a chair next to His Majesty. Rayhan felt the hair rise on his neck the moment he and the general looked upon one another.
King Mekkai leaned back in his large sitting chair. “Let me start by saying this is not a discussion. What I am about to say is not up for debate or negotiation. The atrocities committed during the war between Nevaharday and Whitewood have had a lasting effect on many. However, no one in this room has the leisure to dwell upon them. You are of noble blood, and with it comes obligations of leadership you must own.”
“I agree,” Halin chimed in.
King Mekkai held up a hand. “A new and prosperous relationship between Nevaharday and Whitewood sits upon our table. The quarrel between your families has disrupted my court once. I will not let it keep us from bringing this arrangement to a close. I care not how long it takes. If we must sit here through the night and into the morning, then so be it, but I will see this quarrel resolved before you leave these seats.”
Hatred and fear coupled in Halin’s expression. He was already shaking his head before King Mekkai finished his speech. “The problem here is not our ‘quarrel’, Your Majesty, but honor. To ask my daughter to marry the son of the monster who murdered her mother is a direct insult to our family.”
The king turned his attention to Halin’s daughter. “Elessara, is this how you feel?”
Lady Elessara shook her head. “Not at all. If anything, I believe my mother would be proud to see us rise above Siren’s crime.”
Rayhan watched Halin’s fingers retract into a fist as he leaned against the armrest. Elessara’s words did not bring relief but disappointment, yet he didn’t lash out like he did before. In fact, he consumed his daughter’s reaction with the grace of elven stoicism.
Halin’s next words were directed toward his daughter. “When bards came to Whitewood singing of Rayhan the Chivalrous, you came to me with angry tears claiming that he should be punished, not exalted. You said that he was just as much a war criminal as Siren.” Halin’s finger tapped pensively against his scar. “Clearly, something has changed your mind. What was it?”
Rayhan looked to Elessara, and he made no effort to hide the sting of Halin’s words. Her expression offered an unspoken apology as she replied, “I took the time to know him, father.”
Warmth flushed the captain’s cheeks and he fought to hide the smile those words brought to his lips. A low cough drew Rayhan’s attention over his shoulder where Nadel pursed his lips into a tight frown.
Stay objective, the rahee thought to himself. Right.
Taking a deep breath, Rayhan decided now would be a good time to speak up. “I do not blame you for your doubt, or your pain. My father was the cause of many tragedies both here and back home. But as I have insisted many times, I am not Siren, sirrah. Nor do I aim to be. We have the chance here to form a better future for ourselves and for our children. If uniting our families can do that, then I believe that is a worthy reason to see it through. Do you not?”
Halin’s gaze narrowed ever so slightly. “Yes, I know the political advantages here, Captain. My concerns are more personal. Consider it selfish, but I am not willing to trade my daughter for a treaty so easily. Not without understanding how someone called ‘Rayhan the Chivalrous’ can stomach the idea of wedding the daughter of a woman your father so brutally murdered. Does that not trigger anything in your conscience?”
Rayhan’s chest tightened at the very blunt, but very honest question. “Last night before dinner, General, I asked your daughter the very same question.”
“And?”
“I forgave him,” Elessara spoke up. “Rayhan had no part in my mother’s death. He was as much a victim of Siren as anyone else, and yet he is forced to pay the price for what Siren has done. I realized then that this cycle had to stop, and it might as well start with us.”
Halin remained silent for a very long time. King Mekkai sat with a stone’s patience as he watched the trio stare awkwardly at one another. Elessara dared to tak
e Rayhan’s hand. The captain looked at the long, pale fingers across the back of his palm. He reached out and placed his other hand on top of them, then looked expectantly at the general.
Halin’s expression was unreadable as he stared at their hands entwined. Eventually, he stood and faced his king. “If this is your will, Your Majesty, then how I feel is of no consequence.”
“Then I will consider this matter settled,” King Mekkai’s voice was firm, signaling that he expected the general’s affirmation. “You will no longer speak against the Mendeley name or this union. Not at my table, nor beyond it.”
“There is nothing left for me to say,” the general bowed once more. The elf then turned to the door and grabbed his effects before departing with one guard on each side. Jaspur stepped out of the shadows and looked to Rayhan, his worry compounded.
Both of them carried the sinking feeling that this matter was anything but settled.
* * * * *
Rayhan didn’t retreat immediately to his chamber. Instead, he joined Elessara upon the king’s dismissal for a walk in the royal gardens where Shadow and Halin had met not long before.
Side-by-side, they strolled the green maze where they silently admired the collage of colored blooms that came together in a floral mural. Jaspur wandered behind them, signaling for Rayhan’s attention every time his cousin tossed him a passing glance, but the captain chose to ignore him, his attention focused on Elessara.
Rayhan folded his hands behind his back; a gesture his betrothed noticed he often made when addressing a woman. At first, she thought it was a sign that he was shy, but Rayhan never came off as bashful to anyone. Only reserved.
For someone so young, Rayhan thought a lot about his words before he spoke. He was doing it now, with her. She could tell by his serious expression and the way his eyes stared pensively at the garden as if he were trying to solve a puzzle tucked inside the flowers.
The Rogue Trilogy Page 69
