“What about the Nazarien?”
Jarrett met Tyne’s gaze. “I don’t know.”
“But you’re still going?
“Yes.”
Tyne looked down. “You and Tyla Eldralin had a child together?”
“Yes. Actually, Tyla and I are married.”
Tyne’s eyes flashed to his face. “Married? Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“I agreed not to.”
“That’s why you never participated in the procreation ceremonies?”
“Yes. I never told you about my marriage because I made a pledge not to talk about it. Do you know why I brought you here?”
Tyne shook his head.
“I wasn’t able to choose for myself whether I wanted to be Nazar or not. The decision was made for me. But I want you to choose, I want you to experience something else. Not all Stravad are Nazarien, Tyne, not even half of them. I want you to know what it means to be Stravad, then compare it to being Nazarien. When you’re done you may not want to be Nazarien anymore, let alone Nazar.”
Tyne opened his mouth to protest, but Jarrett was no longer looking at him. The young man turned abruptly and his eyes came to rest on the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.
She was tiny, her head only coming to Tyne’s shoulder. She wore a gown made of silk, gold in color. It accentuated a narrow waist and flowed down over her sensuous hips. The bodice was cut low, showing a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage. Around her bronze neck was a chain of gold adorned with an emerald. Her face was flawless, her cheekbones high, her lips full, her eyes almond shaped and as green as the emerald at her breast. Around her beautiful face and falling in a wreath of curls to her waist was a mane of dark hair.
Tyne felt a quickening in the pit of his stomach as he looked at her and his breathing was rapid. He’d never dreamed a woman could stir him in such a way, but if he’d ever wanted anything in his life, he found himself wanting her.
“Hello,” she said. “I’m Tyla Eldralin, Leader of Temeron. And you are?” She lifted one brow in question.
Tyne stepped forward and dropped to one knee, casting himself at her feet. “I’m Tyne Trauner, and am forever in your command.”
Her dress rustled as she lowered herself to his level. He looked up into her beautiful face and thought his heart would pound out of his chest. She smiled and her teeth were even and white.
“You needn’t prostrate yourself before me, Tyne Trauner. Please stand or else my dress is going to get dreadfully dirty.”
He rose to his feet and reached out to help her up. Touching her ignited a thousand thoughts in his mind and his face flushed with embarrassment.
Again she smiled. “You are undoubtedly a Nazarien warrior,” she said, shifting her eyes to the single medallion in his ear.
Tyne’s chest swelled with pride, but he glanced over his shoulder at his brother. Jarrett wasn’t looking at him, he was staring at the woman with longing. Tyne turned back and fixed his eyes on her lovely face.
“My lady, I’m not yet a Nazarien warrior. However, as of next Valhall, I will come of age.”
“Trauner?” she said, seeming to catch the name for the first time. Her eyes darkened. “Who is your father?”
“The last Nazar, my lady, Tomlin Trauner by name.”
“Then you are Jarrett’s brother?”
“Yes, my lady, and his chosen second.”
“Mores the pity,” she answered cryptically. “But you are in Temeron now, Tyne, and perhaps we can steal your heart away from its present cold and dark path.” Her eyes flickered to Jarrett and Tyne wondered if she weren’t taunting him.
“I don’t follow you, my lady.”
She laid a gloved hand on his arm. “I hope you will soon, but we can discuss this at greater length later.”
“Yes,” said Jarrett for the first time, although his eyes were still on the woman, “it’s late. You ought to be asleep by now. You may go.”
Tyne hesitated a moment, not wanting to leave, but he had to obey his brother’s command.
“In Temeron you would be considered a man and you could make your own decisions,” she said.
“My brother is the Nazar. It is treason to disobey him.”
Mischief glinted in her eyes. “And if I were to command you to stay?”
Tyne drew a deep breath. “Then I would commit treason, my lady, but I ask you to release me, as unwilling as I may be to leave your company.”
She smiled and Tyne felt his stomach tighten involuntarily again. “I would never command you, Tyne. Nor would I presume I had the right as others obviously do,” she said, her eyes again shifting to his brother. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure was mine, my lady,” he answered.
“I hope I’ll have the pleasure of your company at the ball tomorrow night.”
“Of course,” he said, then remembered himself. “That is, if my brother commands me to attend.”
“Of course,” she said with another mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Good night, my lady.”
“Good night.”
Tyne glanced over his shoulder at his brother once more to make sure Jarrett wasn’t angry, then he hurried into the cottage, unsure whether he was glad to be out of her powerful presence or disappointed their encounter hadn’t been longer.
* * *
When he had gone, Tyla turned her magnetic gaze fully on Jarrett. He caught his breath. If possible, she was more beautiful than she’d been ten years before. She possessed a calm wisdom and power he didn’t remember. Involuntarily his eyes passed over her body. Ten years was a long time to want a woman as badly as he wanted her, but if he’d remembered her even a fraction as beautiful as she truly was, he knew he wouldn’t have survived it.
“Tyla.” His eyes followed the length of her dark hair and he wanted to touch it.
“Hello, Jarrett, fancy you sneaking into Temeron.”
“I guess Kendrick found time to talk with you.”
Her mouth lifted in a wry smile. “Kendrick? I figured he was the one that started this whole thing, but I wasn’t completely sure until now.”
“He thought he was doing the right thing, Tyla...”
“Of course,” she said, turning away from him and walking into the garden.
Jarrett’s eyes strayed to the sway of her hips and he shut his eyes. Ten years was an unbearably long time to want a woman like Tyla. She paused in front of a bench and took a seat, her gown fanning out around her. Jarrett moved to the other end and sat down, his back rigid, his hands clasped in his lap.
“I can’t believe you came all the way out here for something that doesn’t concern you,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly.
“Your life will always concern me.”
“Is that so?” she said, turning to him, her eyes flashing.
He felt a momentary stroke against his thoughts, the familiar touch that had passed so easily between them, but she was angry.
“Why are you here?”
“Because Kendrick asked me to come.”
She drew an exasperated breath and closed her eyes. “I don’t want you here.”
“Now who’s giving commands?”
She looked away. “You’ve seen Kerrin.” It was not a question.
Jarrett dropped his gaze. “He knows I’m his father.”
“I figured he did. Did you tell him?”
“No,” said Jarrett, glancing at her. “He knew. He saw the resemblance.”
She drew a deep breath and exhaled. “I suppose it was a shock, seeing him.”
Jarrett nodded, but didn’t trust himself to speak.
“And I suppose you’re furious that I kept him from you.”
Jarrett bit his lower lip. “At first I was furious, but mostly I’m hurt. I’ve lost ten years with my son, Tyla. What do you expect me to feel?”
She shut her eyes and tilted back her head. Her hair touched the seat of the bench. Jarrett could hardly suppress his ur
ge to bury his hands in it. She turned and looked at him.
“What did you expect me to do? You left me with a child and became Nazarien, Nazar no less. Did you really think I’d send you word, announcing you had a son so you could drag him off to Chernow as soon as he was old enough to train beside you? And if you think I’ll allow you to take him now...if you think I’ll allow you to steal his childhood and his happiness, and leave him half-dead the way you are now...” Her voice choked off.
Jarrett started to reach for her but stopped himself. “Tyla, I would never want Kerrin to be Nazarien, to go through what I’ve gone through. I would never take him away from Temeron and his people...or you.” He hesitated and looked out at the garden. “I just wish I could have seen him grow up, but I guess there are a lot of things I could wish for in the past that can never be again.”
She rose to her feet and walked away from him. “You’re right, Jarrett. The past is the past and we ought to leave it there, which is why I don’t understand what you’re doing here.”
“I’m here because you need help. I don’t know if I can give it, but I sure as hell want to try. Maybe I wasn’t there to help you when you gave birth to Kerrin, and maybe I haven’t been here to help you raise him, but I’m here now. Doesn’t that mean anything? Or do you hate me so much you can’t even accept this?”
She lifted a hand to her breast and clutched the emerald. “I’ve got to go back to the dinner. I slipped away when it was time for Kerrin to go to bed, but they’ll be expecting me back.”
Jarrett rose to his feet and moved close to her. “Please don’t go yet, not like this.”
She turned and her eyes bore into him. “What do you expect from me, Jarrett? You left me, remember. I didn’t leave you, I never left you.”
“I didn’t leave you willingly and my feelings have never changed.”
“Ah, but mine have. You shouldn’t have come here, Jarrett. Ten years is a long time and love isn’t eternal. Love is like a garden. It needs nourishment and attention in order to grow; if not, it goes to seed.”
“But seeds can grow again, Tyla.”
She shook her head. “No, not after so long.”
She turned then and walked away from him.
* * *
Dolan shrugged out of his uniform jacket and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the ache of old bones. He dropped the jacket on the chair beside his dressing table and reached for the latch on the window. He liked to sleep with fresh air flowing through the room, but the maids never understood that.
His hand faltered. The latch was raised halfway. He reached for his sword hilt, but a voice whispered in his ear.
“You’re slipping, old man.”
Dolan drew his blade and swung around. The ring of metal meeting metal sounded and he came up against the barrel-chest of his opponent. In the light of the bedside lamp, he marked the tattoo across the man’s cheek and the blue of his eyes. They parted and stood, blades crossed.
“Do you want to test me?” he asked, sliding his blade along his opponent’s.
A slow smile curled the lines of the man’s lips, then he dropped his sword and took a step back. “I’m no fool. You old dogs are crafty as hell.” He slid his blade into its sheath.
Dolan didn’t relax.
The man made a sign and took a seat on the trunk Dolan kept at the foot of his bed. It had been many years, but Dolan knew that sign. He slid his own sword into its sheath.
“Why would the Kazden Cult send a follower to Sarkisian in the heat of summer?” he asked.
The man shook his head. “Bloody damn desert. Thought I was going to die. Who the hell lives in a place like this?”
Dolan didn’t respond. He eyed the falcon wing tattooed to the man’s cheek. It had been a lot of years since he’d been in contact with the Cult.
The Cult member eyed him in return. He made the sign again, fist pressed to his breast. The sign for peace. “My name is Attis.” Another allowance of good will. No Cult member willingly shared his name, unless he wanted to put another at ease. No Cult member ever wanted to put another at ease.
Dolan reached for the chair and pulled it close. His jacket fell onto the floor, but he ignored it. Taking a seat, he shifted his sword hilt so that he could easily reach it. One never died from being too cautious, and this was the bloody damn Cult.
“This must be important.”
Attis smiled. Cult members always smiled, but there was nothing humorous about it. “Let me start by commending you. I have enjoyed the peace in Nevaisser for the last decade.”
“I am not responsible for that peace.”
“Ah, but you are. You are responsible for the King of Eastern Nevaisser; therefore, you deserve the credit. You have done well by him.”
Dolan frowned. Kalas was not a subject he discussed with anyone nor did he suffer anyone to talk against him. “Tread carefully here. My King is not fodder for the Cult.”
Attis held up a hand, palm out. “Understood.”
Dolan’s thoughts focused on something Attis had said. “Are you suggesting that our peace may be in jeopardy?”
Attis’ face grew serious. “The Nazar has left Nevaisser. Speculation is rife, but most believe he has gone to Temeron.”
Dolan wasn’t sure what that had to do with him. “And this journey of his threatens the peace of Eastern Nevaisser?”
Attis stroked his tattoo. “There are those in the order who have long memories. Pledges were made and were never meant to be broken.”
“Ah.” Things fell into focus. “Such pledges are only biding while the men involved in them live. Tomlin Trauner has been dead a long time.”
“True enough, but there are those who do not believe pledges end in the pledge-maker’s death. There are those with very long memories,” he repeated.
“Why did the Nazar go to Temeron? It has been more than a decade.”
“Talar Eldralin’s daughter needs his assistance. A plague may have been released in Temeron.”
“A plague?”
“It is a long story.”
“Tell it,” said Dolan, gritting his teeth. A plague? Why was he just now hearing this?
“It begins with a Stravad named Jax Paden, a foolish man who threatens our peace.”
Dolan frowned, but he listened as Attis spun a remarkable tale. In fact, parts of it, the island in particular, were more than a little hard to swallow, but knowing the Cult as he did, he didn’t think they were capable of inventing such tripe. It had to be true on that basis alone.
Dolan tried to pull it all together. “Temeron was possibly infected with a plague, the Nazar has gone to help Tyla, and together they are going to try to find an island told to them by a dead man. On top of this, members of the Cult are worried about the pledge the Nazar made to another dead man?”
“No,” said Attis calmly, “the Cult is not concerned about the pledge. As I told you, we have enjoyed the peace maintained by your king. We do not want to see anyone intervene in the Nazar’s mission. He must escort Talar Eldralin’s daughter to this island, and they must find the origins of this disease.”
“Then who wants to intervene in the Nazar’s mission?”
Attis gave him a look as if to say he was senile. “Members of his own order. We’ve received word that they intend to exact vengeance on both the Nazar and Talar Eldralin’s daughter as prescribed by Tomlin Trauner when the agreement was struck.”
Dolan sat back. He didn’t think much could shock him, but this did. “If anything happens to Tyla, Kalas will declare war on the Nazarien.”
Attis gave a short nod. “Again, the Cult enjoys our peace, hence my presence in this forsaken desert.” He shivered in disgust.
Dolan tried to absorb what he’d been told, but there were a lot of confusing pieces. “No one has told us of this plague. How is it you know of it?”
Attis sighed. “The Cult escorted Jax Paden to Temeron before he died.”
Dolan’s head lifted.
Attis s
hifted in his chair. “Each one of the escorts has died.”
Dolan narrowed his eyes.
“And those that cared for them are now sick.” Attis leaned forward and dropped his voice. “We need Tyla to find that island. We need her to find the cure for this sickness.” He reached out and gripped Dolan’s arm. “All Stravad are vulnerable. If she doesn’t find the cure, we all might die.”
* * *
Kendrick summoned Jarrett to the main business section of Temeron the following morning. It had grown in the last ten years and Jarrett was surprised by the number of goods bearing Denortosal labels. He ran his hand across a gilded sword sheath and frowned. Such an elaborate, unnecessary show of wealth, he thought, and then looked up guiltily, realizing his thought was completely Nazarien.
As he wandered through the people and around the displays, he considered everything that had been said to him since he came to Temeron. His old friends and companions noted the change in him, the seriousness, the rigidity, but they didn’t understand he’d spent ten years learning to train all show of emotion out of himself. A warrior, a glorified killing machine, didn’t have need of emotion.
But what the Nazarien didn’t understand is that suppressing the display of it didn’t take it away. Allistar, Tyla, and Kendrick would be surprised if they knew how much emotion raged in his breast since he’d set foot in Temeron, but they saw only the outward display. Even Tyla – once she would have known his most private thoughts, but now she saw only his hardened exterior, his fixed stance, and his unchanging expression.
“Good morning, Jarrett,” said Kendrick when Jarrett stopped alongside him. Kendrick was surveying a display of fabrics from Denortosal. “They still don’t compare with Temerian blends, but they’re getting better.”
“Is this work or pleasure, Kendrick?”
Kendrick laughed. “Work of the worst kind. You know we’re having a banquet in honor of the merchants from Denortosal. The King and Queen should be arriving in the next few hours. Well, it’s always good for the First Advisor to survey the battle ground before the event.”
Jarrett drew a breath. “I never dreamed you’d be happy playing court to Kings and Queens.”
The World of Samar Box Set 3 Page 57
