“I know, Kive.” Nathaera rested a hand on his shoulder. “I miss them too. But there’s no word of Gwyn being burned at the stake. Father says he’s fighting hard to get Gwyn released, and Father has some sway with the king. But these things take time, Kive, and we must be as patient as you or I have any hope of being. Which isn’t much, I will grant.” She sighed and flopped into the haystack behind her. Kive crawled close, sighed, and flopped beside her in almost perfect mimicry. Both stared at the loft above as the sun streamed through tiny flaws in the wooden beams revealing a swarm of dust motes.
Warmth curled over the air. The sweet fragrance of grass and unfurling blossoms wafted into the dusty stable. Were it not for Gwyn’s circumstances, it might be one of those perfect spring mornings; the kind that seeped into one’s memory and remained forever, sweeter to taste than wine.
“This is a surprise.”
Nathaera opened her eyes, wondering when she’d closed them. She smiled up at Lawen, who stood above, grinning as his eyebrow arched.
She shook her head. “You and Kive are both impossible. You’re supposed to stay in the guesthouse. Don’t think our servants won’t gossip, whatever we might command.”
“It’s all right. General Cadogan knows I’m here. I wrote to him, and he said he’d heard about my healing and doesn’t believe there will be any charges laid against me. After all, I couldn’t even move to protest. I asked if I might return to his service. Maybe there I can do something for Gwyn.”
Nathaera sat up. “But you’re still recovering.”
“I’m fully recovered, dear lady. I have been since the moment I was first healed. There’s nothing but a few roads between me and Gwyn, and he’s locked up somewhere, undergoing who knows what sort of cruelty, all for my sake. I can’t sit here any longer, waiting and wondering. I didn’t come to Keep Lotelon to hide. I came to help my brother.”
She studied the earnestness of his face, the determination shining in his green eyes, and a smile crept onto her lips. “I’d be a fool to stop the ren Terares from doing whatever they feel strongly about.” Nathaera lifted her hand to him. “Help me up, my good sir.”
Lawen caught her hand and lifted her easily to her feet. She laughed. While he wasn’t as tall as Gwyn, nothing of his former frailty remained. He stood around six feet, well-toned, with the same quiet manner about him as his younger brother.
“How old are you, Lawen?” she asked.
He raised an eyebrow. “Nearly twenty-six years. Why, my lady?”
Hardly older than Windsur, yet the contrast was striking. “Oh, just wondering at the world and all its varieties. It makes one fully appreciate the vastness of it all.” She shrugged and started toward the stable door. “Come, Kive. You at least should stay in the guesthouse.”
“Lady Nathaera?”
She turned and found Lawen standing still, green eyes vivid in the dim light, expression grim. “Someone reported what Gwyn did. Someone must have.”
She blinked. “But no one knew.”
“A few knew.”
Her brow furrowed. “But none of us would say anything—” She cut off and her eyes widened. “Windsur! He— Might he? But why would he? Gwyn saved our lives. He had no reason to—”
“None? Is your intended not a jealous man?”
She started to shake her head. Stopped. Shook it again. “But he had no reason to be jealous.”
“Does he know that? You did run off to rescue Gwyn after you reached Vinwen the first time. Any proud man might perceive that as a threat. I know it might make me uncomfortable, especially if I were uncertain of my lady’s feelings on our union.”
Her mouth fell open. “But that’s ridiculous! Gwynter is my friend. He saved my life. Of course I would want to find him, to help him. Of course I would. Anyone would!”
“Anyone, my lady?”
She threw her hands up. “But to condemn a man to trial and execution? It’s horrible.” But though her mind reeled, her heart pounded. It was Windsur. She had no proof, but she knew it to be true.
“Oh, Windsur,” she whispered, dropping her head into her hands. “Poor, foolish, stupid, jealous Windsur. Was it worth a life?” She lifted her head. “I have to help him. I must make amends. If Gwyn is executed, it’s as much my fault as Windsur’s. Please, Lawen, what can I do?”
He shook his head. “Nothing, for the present. I’m heading out now to report to General Cadogan. When I’ve found out anything more, I vow you will learn all I discover. In the meantime, Nathaera, look after Kive. It’s what Gwyn asked of you.”
“Of course. I’ll do my best.”
“How is your new apprentice?”
The voice rolled like thunder across the plains.
Gwyn’s eyes snapped open and he tried to turn over, but his body protested as a wave of nausea rushed over him. Bile burned in his throat.
“He is ordinarily a more impressive specimen, but I’ve attacked him for six hours without a rest. He passed out.”
“Does he have much potential? What sort of magic does he wield?
Through a haze of exhaustion, Gwyn began to recognize the voices hanging overhead. One must be Lord ren Lotelon. The second took longer to pinpoint. Where had he heard that deep voice before? Oh. General Cadogan ren Silverard, his brother’s commanding officer and head of the Crow King’s armed forces. The two had met only once at the funeral for Gwyn’s father.
Gritting his teeth, Gwyn rolled onto his back. He blinked until his vision returned and found the two men peering down at him. Lord ren Lotelon clutched his replacement broadsword. General Cadogan ren Silverard stood with hands behind his back, adorned in the red tabard and black armor of the Crow Army’s leaders. Brunette hair fell past his broad shoulders and eyes of deep brown studied Gwyn’s face.
“His magic is defensive,” ren Lotelon said.
“That’s disappointing. We need more warriors, not more shields.”
“His defenses appear to become offensive if provoked. I’m testing that presently to be sure.”
General Cadogan lifted an eyebrow. “Rumor at court claims the boy performed magic to save his brother.”
“It is so.”
“I frankly can’t blame him. Lawen is a good man, one of my best. I hated the thought of losing him, but none of my physicians were of any use. I even asked a mage healer for assistance, but he said it was beyond his skill. What sort of magic did he invoke?”
“An Ilidreth gem, or so he claims.”
Cadogan looked down at Gwyn, dark eyes catching his. “Is that so, boy?”
Gwyn nodded gingerly. A headache settled in, throbbing like a hammer-strike against his skull.
“What does the Crow King intend with him?” Cadogan asked, turning his eyes toward the mage lord.
“I’m uncertain. But he insists that I bring out his full potential. He wants him fully trained by his coming of age.”
“Ah, yes. I recall Lawen saying his little brother was tall for his years. Even lying down, it’s rather apparent.” Cadogan rubbed a scar on his chin. “Well, I’ll leave you to your work. When you’ve got his power harnessed properly, call for me. I’d enjoy a spar. Defense mages are always interesting opponents.”
“This one may be more so than you expect.” Lord ren Lotelon bowed his head. “Good day, General.”
“Good day, my lord.” Cadogan inclined his head, turned, and strode away, footsteps an even click against the marble floor.
“Up with you,” the mage said, adjusting the blade in his hands. “You’ve had long enough to rest. We’ve much to do before nightfall.”
Gwyn set his jaw and staggered to his feet. His head swam and nausea rushed through him again. “I might take ill.”
“Your stomach?”
Gwyn nodded.
“Resist your body’s weakness. Defend yourself. Use your magery.”
Gwyn nodded even as his stomach churned and his throat tightened. He wasn’t certain he used his magery at all; but instead, his magery used him
.
Lord ren Lotelon charged him, sword raised, eyes hard as a blacksmith’s anvil.
Gwyn threw out his hand, concentrating on his enemy’s blade. It shattered, but ren Lotelon flung the hilt aside as metal scattered across the floor, already pulling free a dagger. At the same moment, the mage summoned fire.
Wind circled Gwyn and the fire died. The dagger missed his face. Gwyn knocked ren Lotelon’s arm aside, and the man staggered back.
“Good. Better. Again.”
Chapter 26
Following Lawen’s departure, a fortnight passed before word of the ren Terare brothers reached Keep Lotelon. As the courier rode away, his horse kicking up gravel, Nathaera broke the seal of the letter he’d brought with trembling fingers, chanting a prayer to Afallon under her breath.
I have confirmed that Gwyn still lives. Beyond that, very little. Only that he is housed by the Order of Corvus, which can mean nothing good. No word on the king’s verdict at his trial. All is eerily silent. Will write again with any news at all. Pray for Gwyn. —L.
The hasty scrawl sent a tremor through Nathaera’s body. She knew little about the Order of Corvus; only that they were the king’s personal guard. Rumors whispered more: That they were assassins and torturers. If they held Gwyn, was he being tortured? Was using magic so horrible that he deserved such treatment?
She stomped her foot. Preposterous. Slipping through the open door of the manor house, she raced down the steps and crossed the extensive lawn, heading for the stables. She always found Kive there. He was terrifying, even disgusting. But though she’d witnessed him do unspeakable things, she found a strange sort of comfort in the fae man’s company. Kive behaved like a small child or a feral kitten: he didn’t understand when he did bad things, and the rest of the time, he was almost cute.
Or perhaps I’m becoming calloused.
She couldn’t say.
Pushing the stable doors aside, she spotted the fallen Ilidreth standing before one of the stalls, stroking the muzzle of a chestnut mare, cooing in his lilting drawl. “Niiiice, soft horse. Niiice horse.”
The horse stood still and allowed it. Nathaera wondered if it felt safe or, more likely, Kive had commanded it not to move.
“Hello, Kive,” she said, approaching.
He turned his bright red eyes to her. “Hello, Rat.”
“No, Kive. I’m a girl.”
“Rat.” Kive turned back to the stall. “Horse.”
She sighed. “If I can’t be a girl in your head, Kive, can’t I be a different animal? Do I look like a rat to you?” She lifted her arms and twirled. “See? No tail, no sharp teeth. I’m not a rat. Remember, you thought Shiny was a rat, but he’s a Shiny, right?”
Kive eyed her. “Are you…a bird?”
“You still eat birds, don’t you? No, Kive. I’m not a bird.”
“Are you a fly?”
She laughed. “Some might think so. But Kive, you’re not thinking big enough. That’s a horse, isn’t it? You’d forgotten about them. There are hundreds, even thousands of other animals besides just rats, birds, and horses. There are all kinds! Cats and dogs and beavers and, and wolves. Deer. All kinds.”
Kive canted his head. “All kinds? So many?”
“Yes. Maybe I’m a deer, or, or an elephant!”
His eyes widened. “El...eh...faunt?”
She laughed. “Yes. Maybe. Do I have a long, long nose that can uproot trees?”
His mouth hung open. “No. You can’t be an eleph...” He trailed off.
“Elephant. No? Maybe a tiger. Do I have stripes down my back?” She turned and pulled her hair aside for his inspection. Gentle fingers brushed against her back, then withdrew.
“No. No stripes.”
She turned and tossed her hair back. “Hmm. Maybe I’m a beetle.”
“A beetle? Noooo.” Kive shook his head. “Not crunchy.”
“There, see? You know what beetles are.” She folded her arms. “Tell me honestly, Kive. Do I look like a rat to you?”
He regarded her like he’d never seen her before and shook his head. “No. No, you’re not a rat at all. Not juicy like a rat. Not sneaky.”
“Well,” she laughed, “not always sneaky. So, what am I?”
“I don’t know,” said Kive. “So many aneeemals I don’t know. So many aneeemals. Do you know what you are?”
“Well.” Nathaera tried to think of any she’d ever related to. “Maybe a cat or a deer. I do like birds, but you eat those.” She unfolded her arms and clasped her hands behind her back, tilted back onto her heels, and thought. “Do you know, Kive, there are thousands of kinds of birds? Black birds and blue birds and sparrows. Cranes and crows and swans.”
“Swans,” crooned Kive. “Lovely white swans, swimming, swimming. Cutting through the water. Swimming.”
“Yes, swans are lovely.” She smiled. “You like swans, Kive? Not to eat, I hope.”
“No, Kive doesn’t eat swans. No.” His eyes filled with a haunted light. “Swans are all sleeping now. No more swimming. No more cutting through water.”
“I like swans,” she said quickly. “I like sparrows and wrens, too.” She chuckled. “Did you know there’s a kind of bird called a fairy wren? Isn’t that pretty? I want to see one someday.”
Kive tilted his head one way, then the other. “Fairy wren?”
She nodded. “I’ve heard they can be pink or blue, but that may be a myth. They sound beautiful.”
“Beautiful.” Kive reached out and ran his finger down her cheek, his touch light as a feather quill. “Fairy wren. Fairy wren.” He met her eyes and held them. “Hello, Fairy Wren.”
She laughed. “Well, all right. Hello, Kive. That doesn’t mean you’ll eat me, does it? Fairy wrens aren’t to be eaten.”
He shook his head. “No, Fairy Wren. Kive doesn’t eat fairy wrens. Not fairy wrens. Hello, Fairy Wren.” He stroked her hair.
She grinned. “Hello.”
Chapter 27
The Crow King granted Lawen the right to visit Gwyn if General Cadogan accompanied him. Fortunately, the general agreed.
“I saw your brother recently, and I’m intrigued to learn of his progress. He appears to have great potential,” Cadogan said when he joined Lawen at the north entrance to Crow Castle. Together they traveled along the corridors leading to the south wing where the Order of Corvus made its quarters.
The general’s words set off alarms in Lawen’s head, but he said nothing. He would learn their meaning soon.
They reached the entrance to the south wing after a long walk down wending passageways lit by sparse torches. Lawen knocked on the wooden barrier and waited, resisting the urge to tap his fingers in his impatience.
Gwyn was somewhere on the other side of the door.
Finally, it opened, and a short, black-cloaked man peeked out at them. “Yes?”
“General Cadogan and Lieutenant Lawen to see the head of your order,” Lawen said.
The man squinted at each of them, then pushed the door aside. “We’ve been expecting you. Come in, General, Lieutenant.”
The two men entered and followed the shorter man across the antechamber and into a larger room where a fire crackled in a great hearth. A polished mantelpiece above brandished the Crow King’s crest. Glancing left, Lawen spotted a familiar man seated at a desk, one hand pressing a bloodstained handkerchief to his cheek. The man’s eyes fixed on Lawen.
“Hello, Lord Lieutenant.”
Lawen found his voice. “Lord Traycen?” He couldn’t believe he stared at his host, the father of Nathaera. He was part of the order holding Gwyn captive?
The lord rose from his chair. “You look bewildered. I’m sorry, but my deception couldn’t be helped. The Crow King himself requested the strictest confidence until Gwyn’s initiation was complete.”
“Initiation?” asked Lawen, voice breaking. He swallowed and rubbed a palm against his pantleg.
Traycen ren Lotelon glanced at General Cadogan. “Can we trust your man to keep h
is silence?”
“I trust Lawen,” Cadogan replied. “And the Crow King has agreed to let him know all. It’s clear that Lawen and his brother share a deep bond. Do you want to upset Gwynter at this stage?”
“No, indeed not.” Traycen nodded. “Very well. Be seated, gentlemen.” He gestured to the chairs before his desk, then folded back into his own, dabbing his oozing cheek. “Lord ren Terare, your brother is a mage.”
Air caught in Lawen’s throat. “Impossible.”
“So even he believed, but I assure you he is. Not only that, but he’s one of the most powerful mages I’ve ever encountered. His abilities are…unique. Defensive magic I understand, but this is something else. Normally a man’s magic is defined by his character, and I have reason to believe that’s the case this time. But that’s why he’s so powerful. Your brother’s nature is complex. Thus, so is his magic.”
Lawen shook his head. He must feign ignorance. “Wait. I don’t understand. Why…why are you striving to understand Gwyn’s magic? Isn’t that against the law?”
“Except under very strict circumstances, yes. But this is that circumstance. Your brother is about to be sworn into the Order of Corvus — the king’s army of mages.”
Lawen closed his eyes as dread flooded his limbs. Not that. Anything but that… “But, but why, my lord? The king’s edict…The trial…” He opened his eyes and stared at Lord ren Lotelon. “Does Gwyn want to join the order?”
“He chose that over death by fire. A wise choice. Wild mages aren’t tolerated in Simaerin, Lieutenant. Only mages of the Order of Corvus are exempt from the edict, and we heed only the Crow King’s commands.”
Who could have guessed his little brother to be so powerful? But then, perhaps it wasn’t strange. Hadn’t Gwyn tamed a fallen Ilidreth and won the favor of Celin and the loyalty of a unicorn? Hadn’t he survived the perils of the True Wood to save Lawen’s life? Lawen inhaled. “May I see Gwynter now?”
The Complete Duology Page 15
