Threads of Gold (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 6)

by Christine Pope

  “Oh, my dear Annora, I had feared you lost forever!”

  “Not precisely, Aunt Lyselle. However, I thought it better to remove myself from the court immediately.” I deemed it best in that moment to leave Tobyn out of the conversation. He had said he would meet me here, but I did not know precisely when. Of course he wouldn’t materialize in the salon in front of everyone. He was far too circumspect for that. Perhaps he was even now waiting for me upstairs.

  My aunt’s eyes widened. “How is it that you managed to get away? For I heard the worst — of — of sorcery, of — ” Words seemed to fail her, and she plucked a lace-edged kerchief from her bodice and waved it in the air, as if the drift of perfume that came from it might help to restore her nerves somewhat.

  “The court does love its gossip,” I said airily. “I cannot tell you everything, dear aunt, for your own safety. But at least be heartened that I am well, even if I must be leaving soon.”

  “Leaving?” Iselda piped up, even as my father said, tone rough with anger,

  “And good riddance, for you have brought down such calamity upon this house that the name of Kelsden will never recover!”

  “Indeed?” I said, my voice cold as the River Marden when it froze in the winter. “I think it more accurate to say that you were the first to bring down that calamity, and everything I did afterward was only an attempt to survive it.”

  “Peace,” my aunt said, holding up her hands, which sparkled with gems that would have done the Lady Shelenna proud. “Done is done, and we must all live with the consequences. If you feel you must leave after everything that has happened, my dear Annora, I cannot fault you for your decision. I think it most wise, in fact.” Her gaze shifted back to my father. “Indeed, I was just telling your father that I did not think it a good situation for Iselda to remain here any longer, and I would take her back to my home with me.”

  My eyes widened, even as I acknowledged the wisdom of such an action. Aunt Lyselle had three daughters of her own, the eldest only a little older than my sister. At my aunt’s grand country estate, Iselda could escape her father’s iniquity, as well as her sister’s notoriety. And with the wealth and title of my uncle the baron to shield her, she might have a very good start in society, once all of today’s terrible events were in the past and the gossips had moved on to another story.

  Well, true, moving past the killing of a king in front of his entire court might take longer than it would some more trifling matter. But I must hope for the best.

  “I think that sounds like a most excellent idea,” I said. “What think you, Iselda?”

  She was silent for a moment, seeming to consider my words. Then, golden head cocked to one side, she said, “At first I was not sure, because I would be missing you, but if you are to go away, then I really have no reason to stay in Bodenskell.”

  My father winced at those words, but I could not feel any pity for him. He had never shown Iselda any particular affection or regard, so why should he be surprised now that she did not feel any true connection to him?

  “Then it is settled.” Aunt Lyselle fixed my father with a stern look, one that dared him to defy her. But he, witnessing the collapse of his family before his eyes, did not seem to have any arguments to offer. Indeed, as I watched, I saw how his gaze was fixed, not on any of us, but on the cut-glass decanter of brandy that sat on one of the side tables. No doubt he would pour himself a strong measure as soon as we were all safely out of his sight. “Iselda, go pack your things, for I wish to return home as soon as possible.”

  With a nod, my sister pushed herself off the divan and hurried out of the salon, giving me a knowing glance as she passed. That look told me she expected to be told all the details of my sojourn at the palace before she left. While I could not tell her everything, I did resolve to let her know as much as I could. I owed her that much.

  Once she was gone, I said quietly, “Thank you, Aunt Lyselle. For that was my one worry about leaving — that she should have no one to properly care for her.”

  My father winced again, but Lyselle affected not to notice. I had no doubt that she did, for her sharp green eyes missed very little. However, she had clearly decided that she would waste no more thought on my father’s feelings, not when he so clearly had no regard for those of anyone else, least of all his daughters.

  “I think she will do very well,” my aunt said. “It will be better for her, to be surrounded by girls close to her own age, and not to always have her nose in a book. And you, Benedic — do not think that with both your daughters gone, you may continue to raid my late sister’s dowry. I will be enlisting legal help on Iselda’s behalf in the very near future, so you should begin thinking now of how you will fund your carousing from here on out.”

  “I know a most excellent attorney here in the city, if you do not have any local contacts,” I put in, not bothering to keep the amusement out of my voice. No doubt Master Jamsden would find my sister’s cause a very worthy one.

  Aunt Lyselle appeared startled that I had made such an offer, but then she smiled and nodded. “That would be most excellent, Annora, for I must confess that I have spent most of my time in the country and do not know much of the businesspeople here in town.”

  “You would help her in this!” my father thundered. Once upon a time, being addressed in that tone would have made me shrink away, but I had faced down the king, and so now my father did not frighten me any longer. “In taking away my last means of support? Have you no family feelings at all?”

  “I have feelings for my sister,” I said calmly. “That dowry is hers. Where I am going, I shall have no need of it.”

  For the first time, my aunt appeared somewhat hesitant. “Yes, Annora, you have said that, but where are you going? Surely you cannot be thinking of setting forth on your own?”

  I hesitated. “I will not be alone,” I replied, thinking I should give her something of the truth. “I would not say more on that subject. Only know that I will be quite safe and protected. As to where I am going….” I let the words die away, then lifted my shoulders. “I think perhaps it is best if you do not know that.”

  My father’s lip curled. “You need not be so mysterious, Annora. Do you not think the word has already spread about who you have been consorting with? Abandoning your father to be with that foul sorcerer?”

  I did flinch at those words, for I had been hoping the gossip had not gotten quite this far. But no doubt the tale had already begun to run through the city, even as Tobyn and I went to his house to retrieve his belongings.

  To my surprise, Lyselle waved her handkerchief and said, “As far as I can tell, the people of Purth should be thanking that ‘foul sorcerer,’ for Elsdon seemed to be going quite out of his mind. Why, he threatened to dishonor your daughter, right there in front of everyone! Any father hearing that should have been asking for his blood, king or no.”

  “You were there?” I asked, quite shocked by her declaration.

  “Yes, I had made one last trip into town before winter settled in, and of course if one is in town, one must go to court. I had heard nothing of how the king was holding you in the palace, Annora, for of course that is not the sort of thing a person wishes to get about. And we are so isolated up there in Daleskeld. But when I came to town, I heard how the king was planning to marry a young woman with the same name as my niece, which I thought somewhat strange, although of course ‘Annora’ is not that uncommon in this part of the realm. But then the wedding was called off, but the king still wanted everyone present, and….” She trailed off then, shaking her head. “Never in my life had I expected to see anything like what I witnessed earlier this afternoon, but it was clear enough what had to be done. I had often said to the baron that this land would be a far better place if Prince Harlin sat on the throne, and now we will be able to see for ourselves. So I suppose it is all very regrettable, but on the other hand, I think that your sorcerer has rather done Purth a public service.”

  My father looked very ne
arly apoplectic at that statement. “Public service? Are you mad?”

  “No, but I fear His Majesty was,” she said calmly. “But that is neither here nor there. I am sure you will wish to get your things, Annora. Do not worry about your father — I will make sure he does not interfere.”

  And though his eyes bulged and his cheeks flushed an even darker red, he did nothing to stop me from smiling at her and then leaving the room. I went up the stairs to the little sunlit chamber that had been mine ever since I was old enough to be out of the cradle, with its narrow bed of carved oak and the tarnished mirror that hung on one wall.

  For a long moment, I stood there, surveying those familiar surroundings, committing them to memory, since I knew I would never see them again. And as I stood there, Tobyn appeared by the window, light glowing around his dark form, for it seemed he had acquired a new cloak sometime after he disappeared from his study.

  I ran to him then and threw my arms around him, and he held me close, then bent and kissed me, over and over. It was as if we both had to reassure ourselves that the other person was real, that we were here together and ready to face whatever came next.

  At last we drew apart, however, and I said, “Truly, I am not sure what to take with me.”

  He took my hand, then kissed it gently. “Only the necessities, my love. Your warmest dresses, and a good sturdy cloak. It is cold in the northlands, even this early in Octevre. And remember that we can purchase anything you might lack.”

  Those words reassured me, and I retrieved the sturdy leather satchel that had once been my mother’s from its resting place on the floor of my wardrobe. I had never before had cause to use it, for I had never gone visiting, but now I filled it with undergarments and chemises and my warmest, plainest gowns.

  “I fear I will be somewhat conspicuous in this,” I said then, running a finger over the embroidered damask of my sleeve, for of course I still wore the rich court dress I had donned earlier that day.

  “Then change your gown.”

  I lifted an eyebrow at him, and he added hastily,

  “While I wait outside your door.”

  Chuckling, I said, “I fear I will need something of your help, for this gown laces up the back, and I cannot manage it myself.”

  “Annora — ”

  “It was your idea, Tobyn, was it not?”

  Without replying, he came to me and reached for the lacings at the back of my gown. One tug, and I felt them loosen. He pulled a bit more, and suddenly the dress began to slip down my shoulders. I quickly caught it, saying, “That will do very well. Now it is probably better if you wait outside.”

  He moved with such haste that I wanted to laugh again, and then shut the door behind him. I made short work of slipping out of the gown, which I then folded and placed on my bed, and pulled one of the dresses I had already packed from the satchel and stepped into it. Because both Iselda and I had to dress ourselves, we made sure our gowns were made with side lacings, and so I was able to get myself modestly attired in very short order.

  The whole time, though, I had been thinking of Tobyn’s fingers pulling at the laces of the first gown, and what it would be like when we were alone together, and he could do that very thing all over again, at a time when he would not have to stop….

  I shivered, then shoved the discarded court gown into my satchel and buckled it closed. When I opened the door, it was to see Tobyn standing there, and Iselda looking up at him with a quizzical expression on her face.

  “Are you the one who is taking my sister away?” she asked.

  Although I could not see his face, I guessed that he smiled. “I would not say that I am taking her away, but rather that we are about to go on a journey together.”

  She seemed to consider those words for a moment. Then she sent him one of those direct looks I knew all too well. “Why do you wear that cloak when you are indoors? Do you easily take a chill?”

  He hesitated, and I saw the hood shift slightly in my direction, as if asking for my opinion as to how he should answer.

  “That is your decision, Tobyn,” I said. “But it is better if she knows the truth, I think.”

  “The truth about what?” she inquired. I noticed then that she held a satchel of her own, far smaller and more battered than mine. Where on earth had she found it? Perhaps it had been a discard of my father’s; Iselda often liked to give throwaways a home, declaring that they had not yet outlived their usefulness.

  “About this,” Tobyn said quietly as he reached up to push back his hood.

  Iselda’s eyes widened. But I noticed she did not flinch. Instead, she frowned slightly, as if attempting to determine what could have caused the scars on his face. “Was it a fire?” she asked at last.

  “Yes, it was. You see keenly, my lady Iselda.”

  A pink flush spread over her cheeks. “Well, it is only that Grimsby — Grimsby is our cook — has a scar on his arm rather like that, from hot oil, only his is not quite so bad. Was it a very terrible fire?”

  “I fear it was.” Clearly, he wished to speak no more on the subject, for he glanced at me and said, “Several streets over is a livery stable. I had thought to go there and see if I can acquire some horses for us. Shall I do that, while you say your goodbyes to your family?”

  How had he known that I desired some privacy to make my farewells? It was not that I did not love him, or want him near, but neither did I want him to witness my grief at leaving my sister and see anything in it of regret for going with him. They were two entirely separate matters, although they both lived in my heart.

  “That sounds like a very good plan,” I said. “Thank you, Master Slade.”

  He nodded at both of us and went down the stairs, while Iselda and I lingered on the landing. After a brief pause, she said, “He does not look very much like a handsome prince.”

  “That is because he is not one.”

  She let out a sigh. “I suppose not. I had just thought that you must have a handsome prince one day because you are so very beautiful.”

  “No, dearest. I think it is up to you to find your own handsome prince, if that is what you think you want.”

  “At least there is more chance of that now I am going to live with Aunt Lyselle. A baroness must have a prince around from time to time, don’t you think?”

  Her expression was so serious that I smothered the smile which had begun to form on my lips. “I would think that is a possibility, yes.”

  Iselda fell silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on the staircase Tobyn had descended just a few moments earlier. “It is all right that he is not handsome.”

  “Well, I am glad you think so. What made you come to that conclusion?”

  Her hazel eyes, so like mine, were wide and guileless. “Why, because he loves you so.”

  * * *

  Bluster he might, but my father could do nothing to stop any of us, not with Tobyn appearing suddenly like a harbinger of doom in his black cloak, and not with my aunt fixing him with a narrow-eyed stare that promised all manner of repercussions if he should attempt to stand in our way. In the end, I hugged her and thanked her for taking Iselda into her household, and I hugged my sister rather longer and told her to be good, and to make Aunt Lyselle proud of her.

  “Of course I will,” Iselda responded. “But if I don’t make her proud, how will you ever know?”

  “I have my ways,” I said, and kissed her.

  She laughed and shook her head, and then the footman shut the door of the carriage behind her. After he got back up on his perch, the coach began to rattle away over the cobbled streets.

  “Come, my love,” Tobyn said quietly, taking me by the hand and leading me over to the horses he had just purchased. They were not nearly as fine as the blood bays drawing my aunt’s carriage, but they seemed sturdy and strong enough, and probably better suited for an overland journey of many leagues.

  My father had already retreated into the house, slamming the door behind him. All of us had pointedly ig
nored that display, although I couldn’t help experiencing a pang as I caught a brief look at him as he pulled the curtains of his study shut, blocking out any last glimpse he might have had of his wayward daughter.

  I allowed Tobyn to boost me up into the saddle, praying all the while that I could manage the feat without looking horribly awkward. When I was younger and had visited my aunt’s estates in the summer, her grooms had taught me the rudiments of riding, but I was sorely out of practice. Well, I would get plenty of practice on the journey to North Eredor.

  Tobyn mounted his own horse once he was sure I sat more or less securely in my saddle. His movements were far more graceful than mine, and it seemed he knew something of horses as well, for they both moved down the street at his direction, once he made a small chirruping sound and guided his mount in the direction that would lead to Bodenskell’s northern gate.

  By then it was quite late in the afternoon, and the sun had already begun to dip down behind the forests that bordered the eastern edge of the capital city. A look of concern must have passed over my face, for Tobyn said quickly, “I thought it best to be beyond the city gates come nightfall. There is a town only an hour’s ride to the north, and I have heard it has several good inns. We will stop there and set out again in the morning.”

  That news did reassure me somewhat. “And we will stay there…as husband and wife?” For certainly it made more sense to share one room, rather than to take two.

  “We will stay however you wish.”

  His tone was neutral. It seemed that he still had not completely accepted my desire for him. “That is how I wish. And perhaps….”

  “Perhaps?”

  Gathering my courage, I said, “Perhaps we will not get there so late that we cannot find a priest. If we do, then we truly can be husband and wife…assuming that is your wish.”

  “‘My wish’?” he repeated with some incredulity. “Annora, you know that is my fondest wish.”