by Emma Miles
‘No, don’t apologise,’ Osun went on, shifting his feet. ‘Do you know what the two of you need to do to change Chem? Nothing. Nothing other than to be yourselves and let others see it. There is hardly a man or woman in Chem who wouldn’t long for what you have.’ He turned and all but fled the room. Kesta instinctively moved to follow him but Jorrun grabbed her arm.
‘Give him a moment,’ he said softly.
Kesta stared at the library door, her heart beating hard against her ribs. She couldn’t believe how much empathy she was feeling, how much sympathy, for a man she professed to hate.
Chapter Twenty
Ayline; Kingdom of Elden
‘I have to go.’ She said it firmly, gritting her teeth afterward, but Ayline didn’t let go of his hand or sit up from where she lay against his shoulder and chest. The light was already beginning to fade outside the tower window and the cold air stung her bare skin where it was uncovered by the blanket. The baby was quiet within her but her back began to ache and she pulled herself up a little in the bed.
‘I can’t see you anymore, Inari, it’s getting dangerous, people will notice.’
‘As you wish.’
She sat up and glared at him. He never argued. She’d lost count of how many times she’d insisted they call off their affair. Somehow, she always found herself making excuses to slip away from her ladies and climb the long steps up the tower.
‘Fetch my dress.’ She drew her arms up and across her belly. It was another two months yet until her baby would be born. Part of her dreaded it, part of her couldn’t wait, not least because she hated being so uncomfortable.
Inari slipped his trousers on before handing her the ample maternity dress she’d worn to the tower.
‘You are the most beautiful woman in all of Elden,’ he said.
She narrowed her eyes. ‘How do you do that?’
‘Do what?’ His green eyes were wide and innocent. She kept forgetting he was as young as she was.
‘Know what I’m thinking.’
He closed his eye and bowed his head. ‘It’s because I love you, your majesty.’
Her heart swelled but she tensed her muscles and snatched the dress. ‘Don’t forget your place, Inari. Did you learn anything useful today?’
‘The King consulted with Larissa again about his nightmare—’
‘I wish that witch would just die!’ Ayline snarled. ‘No matter how much I do, Bractius still runs to her for counsel and ignores me!’
Inari helped her into the dress and gently laced up the back of it, kissing her neck when he was done. ‘You’ve succeeded in being involved in all of his audience—’
She snorted and spun about to face him. ‘He may let me sit there, but he doesn’t let me speak or listen when I do. Perhaps I should find a way to change the colour of one of my eyes or dye my hair red.’
‘The problem is Bractius, not Larissa.’ Inari’s tone was calm and reasonable. ‘But with her witch’s power she is likely to perceive your intent and learn of what is between us. If she hasn’t already.’
Sudden panic struck Ayline and the baby kicked out.
‘I can get rid of the witch for you.’
Ayline laughed. ‘You? How can a servant get rid of a Fulmer witch?’
Inari’s expression didn’t change, he didn’t even blink. It sent a shiver down Ayline’s spine. She turned and headed for the door. ‘I won’t be seeing you again, Inari.’
He didn’t reply. He knew she didn’t mean it; and so did she.
***
Ayline watched the new Fulmer delegates as discreetly as she could. It was their first formal dinner since Silene Worvig had returned back to the islands and Bractius had invited them to his private dining room rather than the chaotic great hall. As always Adrin was there, still high in her husband’s favour, along with his two closest advisors, Merkis Teliff and Merkis Dalton. Bractius had seated Larissa and Teliff to either side of him, while she was seated at the opposite end of the very long table with the young warrior Dorthai. Everything about the young Fulmer warrior was dark; his eyes, his skin, his hair, his clothing and even his mood. Like Worvig before him, he didn’t particularly seem to want to be in Taurmaline.
Larissa laughed, a rich, womanly sound that made Ayline grind her teeth together. ‘I’m sure Kesta Silene enjoyed putting those Chemmen in their place very much!’
Ayline realised they were discussing Teliff’s recent journey to Chem and she sat up straighter, paying more attention. Ayline had not been privy to his report to Bractius on his return the day before yesterday and her husband had told her annoyingly little. She’d only found out Jorrun was even in Chem by eavesdropping.
Adrin, who was seated to her right, snorted into his ale, but said nothing. She’d come to realise weeks ago that Bractius’s favourite chieftain hated both Jorrun and Kesta. She’d suggested to Inari that they use it, but her lover had dismissed Adrin as worthless.
Ayline cleared her throat. ‘And did Thane Jorrun find it amusing?’
‘Aye, your majesty.’ Merkis Teliff bowed in her direction. ‘He was very proud indeed. In fact, despite their precarious position, the Thane seemed extraordinarily happy.’
‘Why would that be, do you think?’ Larissa asked.
‘Well.’ Teliff gave a shrug. ‘I would say he was very much in love with his wife.’
Ayline banged her cup down on the table, realising her error when everyone turned to stare at her. ‘Oh, please excuse me,’ she said. ‘The baby kicked.’
There were several ‘ahs’ from around the table, but when Ayline glanced up she saw Larissa was watching her through narrowed eyes.
‘You say their situation is precarious?’ Adrin said, his mouth full of food.
‘They’ve actually done a good job of establishing themselves,’ Teliff replied. ‘But the women there are only in the early stages of their training.’
‘Will you send another ship soon?’ Larissa asked Bractius. ‘Perhaps we could send them a walker and warriors to reinforce their position?’
‘I had warriors left there to assist.’ Bractius placed a hand over Larissa’s momentarily and Ayline’s spine stiffened. ‘But Osun was concerned that too much help from us would look like an invasion from a foreign power rather than a revolution.’
Larissa nodded, subtly freeing her hand to pick up her glass. ‘He is probably right.’
‘We’ll be establishing a regular trade route though.’ Bractius scratched at his beard. ‘Taking in the Fulmers and the Borrows also.’
‘The Borrows?’ Adrin almost spat his food across the table.
Ayline glared at him, but the warrior ignored her. She felt her anger rise. How had she ever thought this oaf was charming?
‘Talking of the Borrows.’ Bractius’ eyes lit up with his grin. ‘I have some news for you all. After corresponding with the Icante and, through her, the Borrow refugees, I’ve invited a rather unusual guest to Taurmaline.’
‘Don’t tease us.’ Larissa pouted.
‘The Borrowman’s mysterious Bard will be docking at Taurmouth two days from now and he’ll be coming here to sing for us!’ Bractius looked around at them all to gauge their reactions.
Ayline jumped in quickly. ‘Is it safe to have such a man here?’ She placed her hands protectively over her belly.
‘He owes the Icante a great debt,’ Larissa replied. ‘And Elden also, for the supplies you yourself collected for them.’
Ayline’s nostrils flared and she struggled to find the words to put the witch in her place.
‘They are all islanders, all witches, I wouldn’t trust any of them,’ Adrin muttered.
Dorthai leapt to his feet, his chair scraping back as he slammed his hands down on the table. ‘You insult us!’
Ayline stared up at him, eyes wide and mouth open. She couldn’t help it, she giggled. Adrin turned to grin at her.
Both Bractius and Larissa stood, the Fulmer woman quickly remembering her place and sitting down again. Ayline
couldn’t believe it when Bractius’ anger was directed at Adrin rather than Dorthai. ‘Apologise to our guests, Chieftain.’
‘You misunderstand me,’ Adrin said, his hands raised, palms upward. ‘I was talking of the Borrow folk. They have been enemy to all of us here for generations.’
‘The world has changed, Adrin.’ Bractius eyed his chieftain and Ayline knew her husband realised full well Adrin was lying. ‘We have no enemies now but for those few necromancers remaining in Chem.’
Adrin turned to Dorthai and held out his hand. ‘My apologies, man, I have every respect for the Fulmers.’
Dorthai’s eyes narrowed, but the young man took Adrin’s hand. He didn’t so much as blink when Adrin squeezed much too hard and Ayline saw the Fulmer warrior’s darker skin whiten in Adrin’s grip. Adrin let go and Dorthai sat, bowing toward Bractius.
‘Come, let’s eat.’ Bractius leaned forward to rip the leg off a roasted chicken. Ayline couldn’t help but smile as Larissa blanched in disgust.
An idea came to her. ‘Husband, would you allow me to see to the arrangements for welcoming our Borrow guests?’
He tilted his head to look at her. ‘Yes. Yes, of course, if you would like to?’
‘I would love to.’ She smiled, excitement making her blood flow faster, her eyes narrowing as she thought over her delightful, if small, chance for revenge.
***
Autumn was the perfect time for holding a feast. Food was plentiful and The Earth Mother provided her own colourful decorations in leaves and berries to string about the hall. Ayline had ordered two rams and a pig slaughtered along with a large array of fowl. She wondered if the witch had felt their deaths, she hoped so, either way she looked forward to seeing Larissa’s freckled nose wrinkling in distress at the smell of so much cooking flesh.
Bractius came striding into the great hall with his steward and the Huskarl, Tursac who administrated the household for him. The servants all scampered to get out of their way. Bractius saw her and beamed.
‘This all looks marvellous!’ He bent to kiss her cheek and squeezed her arm.
She was annoyed at how grateful she was for that small show of affection. ‘We are nearly done. Has the ship been sighted yet?’
Tursac shook his head but it was Bractius who spoke. ‘Not as yet, but it should be at the lake within the hour.’ He rubbed at one of his eyes and then stifled a yawn.
‘You did not sleep well again?’ Ayline asked him.
Bractius growled in frustration. ‘It’s those damned dreams. Do you know, last night I dreamt that when the Borrowman Bard started singing, snakes came pouring out of his mouth!’
Ayline drew in a sharp breath. ‘Perhaps it was an omen?’
Bractius laughed and she felt her hackles rise. ‘Nonsense! If Jorrun were here he would tell you it’s a dream brought on by normal, everyday worries. If there was anything about this Temerran to be concerned about then the Icante would have warned me.’
‘Unless they are in league.’
Bractius’s eyes widened but he snorted. ‘You women have such wild fancies. I was just telling Larissa the same.’
‘Why, what did Larissa say?’
‘Only that my dreams might not be natural. Foolishness, just because her herbs and teas haven’t worked. I’m just concerned about Jorrun and what’s going on in Chem, it’s as simple as that.’
‘You’re really that worried? I wish you would talk to me about it.’
‘You don’t need my worries.’ He patted her rounded abdomen as tentatively as though it were a temperamental dog that might turn and bite him.
‘How many times do I have to tell you I want to be involved?’ She flicked his hand away in annoyance. ‘You talk to that Fulmer woman, you should be talking to me!’
‘Are you jealous, my Queen?’ He grinned at her and she felt her temperature rise. She wanted to slap his smug face! Tursac shifted his feet and looked away.
‘No, I just want the respect I am owed.’
Bractius’s eyebrows lowered over the bridge of his nose, darkening his eyes and his fingers curled into fists. She stepped back, holding her breath.
‘This is not the place,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Come, Tursac, let’s look over those tythe figures from Cainridge.’
Ayline let out her breath as the king left the great hall. Looking around she spotted an empty-handed servant. ‘Don’t just stand there. Go and get the glasses and start setting them out!’
***
Ayline sat serenely with her eyes closed while her ladies-in-waiting rushed around the room in a shrill panic. Her maid, Lerra, had such a gentle touch as she pinned up Ayline’s hair, it was easy to relax despite the chaos.
‘All done,’ the girl said quietly.
‘One minute and then we go,’ Ayline declared, standing up.
One of the women gave a shriek and there was a flurry of fabric. One of the ladies in particular, Sonay, had been getting on her nerves recently, always trying to tag along when Ayline was trying to visit her tower, asking too many personal questions. Ayline narrowed her eyes. Perhaps it was time for a wedding. Sonay was quite pretty and stupidly naïve. Yes, Adrin would do for her very well.
‘Let’s go!’
Ayline grasped her dress to lift the skirts a little and she headed down to the great hall. Her ladies scattered off to their various seats while she made her way over to stand beside her husband. He barely greeted her, continuing instead with his conversation with Merkis Dalton.
A page came scampering into the hall and a murmur of anticipation travelled about the room. She and Bractius moved to their places at the high table as the herald announced;
‘Temerran, Bard of the Borrows!’
Ayline wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t the elegantly dressed and achingly handsome man who walked in. His curly, copper hair was like fire-light and his dark-green eyes every bit as startling as Inari’s. He must have been in his thirties, although his smile brought deep creases to the skin around his eyes. He gave a low bow.
‘Your majesties, I’m deeply honoured by your invitation.’
There was a slight accent to his voice that wasn’t dissimilar to Jorrun’s.
‘Welcome, Temerran of the Borrows.’ Bractius held out his hands. ‘We are glad you accepted.’
The Borrowman’s eyes searched their faces and then, strangely, seemed to search the air around them as though hunting for their shadows. Temerran froze, but briefly, his eyes widening and fixed on something behind Ayline. She couldn’t help it, she turned to see Inari there, waiting with a decanter of wine.
‘Come have a seat beside me,’ Bractius invited. ‘There’s room for your men at the tables there.’
Temerran turned his attention back to the King, his smile hadn’t waned in the slightest. ‘You honour me. Would you allow me to first present you with my gifts? A personal thank you for the aid you sent the people from whom I was born.’ He looked over his shoulder and one of his men stepped forward to hand him a long, flat box. Temerran opened it and lifted it to show its contents around the room. There were sighs and gasps and Ayline shifted in her chair, trying to glimpse what it held.
‘For her majesty.’ Temerran stepped forward and then went down on one knee. ‘Pearls from the deep ocean, although they pale beside her beauty.’
Ayline’s face grew warm despite her determination not to fall for such blatant flattery. She longed to see both Bractius’s and Inari’s expressions. She gave a graceful nod of her head in thanks as a page brought the box to her.
‘And for his majesty.’ Temerran turned to take a sword in a blue sheath from another of his men. ‘A sword forged from the volcanic iron of the Borrow Islands. May it serve you and Elden well.’
Bractius took the sword from his page, drawing it and summoning more murmurs from the guests in the hall. ‘It’s a good blade.’ He nodded. ‘Come, man, come and eat!’
Temerran returned the King’s grin and hopped lightly u
p onto the dais, making his way around the long table to the seat beside the King. Larissa was at his other side with Dalton to her left. Adrin had been placed to Ayline’s right with Jarl Hadger of Taurmouth and his wife beyond him. She smiled to herself. She’d had Dorthai and the other Fulmer warrior who’d come with him seated at a lower table. Strangely, she’d never have done the same to Silene Worvig, she found herself missing the man’s quiet dignity.
She realised she was frowning and forced a smile to her face. She gestured over her shoulder and recognised the scent of Inari without having to look up. ‘Take these pearls and have them safely locked away in my room.’
‘Yes, your majesty.’
Temerran proved to be genuinely fascinating to listen to. Even Adrin stopped talking to hear the Bard’s stories about his adventures on the sea and called in delighted disbelief for descriptions of more of the animals and monsters Temerran had allegedly encountered. She noticed he avoided any mention of raiding or the Fulmers, as tempted as she was to cause upset to Larissa, she bit her tongue.
‘Would you be kind enough to sing for us?’ Larissa asked.
‘Oh, yes, you must!’ Ayline said, forgetting for a moment that Larissa was her enemy.
‘Well, then I will be delighted.’ Temerran stood and made his way over to where the Elden musicians were playing. One of his men brought him over a lyre and the Eldemen politely gave way. At first, he just played a complex and temperate melody that made Ayline think of the view from her lake tower as the sun slowly set beyond the water and the birds flocked to dance spirals above it. Then he began to sing, the first few words in a language she didn’t know, but the words made Larissa stiffen in her seat. All at once the tune changed and he was singing a popular Elden ballad. Ayline shook herself, the alteration to the melody had been so subtle she hadn’t perceived when it had happened.
Temerran played for nearly an hour, encouraged by shouts for more from the guests in the hall, until Bractius himself intervened to give the man a break. Ayline was loathe to leave when there was so much to learn and observe, but eventually exhaustion got the better of her and she had to excuse herself. She made her way over to Temerran and the Bard offered his arm to steer her away from his audience to where they could speak quietly.
