Shadowborn

by Katie MacAlister

  “We can do without a feast,” he answered, closing his eyes again, his fingers drawing wards on her behind. “As for the pilgrimage, there is a temple right here, not a hundred yards from us.”

  “Yes, but that’s a water talkers’ temple. We can’t go to it to ask the goddesses for a blessing on our marriage,” she argued.

  “Of course we can. The water talkers worship the Life-Mother, so it’s entirely suitable that we should seek her blessing instead of her daughters’.”

  “And then there’s the bounties. You know full well it is the duty of the bride to make those, and I have nothing with me that I could use as gifts to the people of Deeptide.”

  “Bah,” he said, gently pushing her off him so that he could rise and stride over to the small room that held the privy. He scratched his belly as he stood before the stool, giving Idril the opportunity to admire his truly magnificent ass. She spent a moment in rapt appreciation of the lovely thick muscles that curved and swooped, of the indentations on the sides that made her fingers itch to follow the smooth skin, and perhaps even give him a little love bite again. She’d shocked him earlier when she’d bitten him on one pale cheek, and had the worst urge to do it again. “I have coin with me. You can use that instead of whatever favors you would distribute. The inhabitants of Deeptide will be happier with coin than they would be with some remembrance of our marriage vows. I’ll tell my parents that we will have the ceremony at noon, when Kiriah is at her strongest. My mother won’t like it, but she will be in a hurry to march the army south, so I do not expect much opposition.”

  “Deo…I can’t…I don’t want…” Idril hesitated. Deo was the only person who truly saw her as she was, not a delicate, frail creature who had to be protected, but a woman whose depth of passion matched his own. But where Deo showed every thought, every emotion, Idril kept hers buried behind a mask of control, and she was sorely tempted to don that mask now.

  Deo paused at a ewer, washing his face, chest, and privates before turning and cocking an eyebrow at her. “You fear our separation? That can’t be avoided, I’m afraid. I would have you safe while I attend to Lyl, so it would be best if you remain with my father’s company. You can join me…no, I must go help Hallow and Allegria deal with Nezu after that. But once he is taken care of, and I return to Aryia to address the problem of my Banes, we will be together then. You may join me while I dispose of your father if you like, although I won’t insist you be there since it might be disturbing to watch his removal.”

  “I can’t marry you today,” she blurted out with uncharacteristic haste. She mentally damned herself for her lack of control, adding in a more measured tone, “It’s not that I don’t want to. You know I very much do wish to wed you. But…I can’t.”

  “You can’t want your father present,” he said, scowling before he marched over to the door to open it and say loudly, “We wish to break our fast! Bring food that we might do so.”

  Idril fought back the urge to stab Deo somewhere non-vital with his own sword, clicking her tongue and sliding out of the bed to catch up her dressing gown, just barely managing to don it before the door opened, and two of her handmaidens entered bearing platters. “Of course I don’t want him present. He’s deranged, and would no doubt try to kill you, and most probably me, as well, for wedding you. Noellia, please cease that giggling. Surely you’ve set eyes on a naked man before, not that I approve of Deo just standing there letting you and Guen see everything he was born with.”

  Deo looked confused for a moment, then glanced down his body. “Do you find me unseemly? Is that why you don’t want to marry me? Woman, just half an hour ago you were riding me hard, cooing in a manner that indicated you were receiving much pleasure, not to mention the fact that you climaxed so hard you almost ripped my rod right off, so I’ll thank you to remember that when you are making objections to my body.”

  Idril took a deep, deep breath. Both handmaidens stifled giggles behind their hands. She shot Noellia a particularly quelling look when the maid evidently decided to confirm Deo’s virility, but luckily for Idril’s vaunted control over her temper, Noellia stopped ogling Deo long enough to deposit food on the table. Idril continued to glare at the maids until, still giggling—and with far too many admiring glances back at Deo—they left the bedchamber.

  “I will admit that my mother’s kin make excellent ale,” Deo said conversationally, pouring out two tankards before plucking from the platters some cold meat, bread, grapes, and cheese, which he set before her. “Sit and eat, my lustful little dove. I must meet with my parents to alert them to the wedding, then I will gather supplies for my ride south to Starfall. That should give your handmaids time to do all that is necessary to make you ready.”

  “We are not getting married today.” Idril stood before the table when Deo sat down to eat. She took yet another deep breath, deciding to get it over with quickly. “Much as I would like to, I can’t wed you because I am already married.”

  Deo frowned and set down his tankard. “You said you divorced my father six weeks after you wed him. Is that untrue? Are you married to him still?”

  “I did, it is not, and I am not.” Really, it was a wonder there was any air left in the chamber, considering how many deep breaths she was taking. “My father forced me to wed Parker, one of the Northmen who helped him take Abet. I’m sure you will assign the direst of motives to this marriage, but I assure you that other than the issue of not being legally able to wed you now, it has no bearing on us, no bearing at all. We are betrothed. I wish for us to be married. I enjoy the things we do in bed together, and wish to continue to enjoy them for many centuries, without the thought of my deceased mother’s spirit hovering around me being disappointed in my lack of lawfully wedded sexual congress.”

  Slowly, Deo set down the knife bearing the cold beef he was about to consume, giving her the exact same look she expected to receive. The words, when he spoke, had an edge to them that probably could have cut the loaf of bread in front of her. “You wed someone else?”

  “Against my will. And this time, I didn’t even give my consent.” Idril fought the urge to wring her hands. She’d never been a hand-wringing sort of person, and she wasn’t about to start. “My father had me gagged because I told the monk he forced to wed us that I didn’t wish to marry Parker. Papa held a sword to the monk, and told him to marry us or he would lose his head.”

  It was Deo’s turn to take a long, deep breath, which he did before rising and pointing the eating knife at her. It still held the beef, which waggled as Deo shook it. Idril would have giggled, but like hand-wringing, she’d instituted a firm no giggling policy. “Do you think you could go six months without wedding a stranger? Is it too much to ask that you stop marrying everyone but me?”

  The giggle slipped out before she could stop it. Deo looked even more outraged, if that was possible.

  “Do not, my love,” she said, sliding onto his lap, her hands stroking back the lock of hair that always seemed to fall over his brow, and which she loved to tuck behind his ear. “Do not look at me as if the goddesses called me forth just so I could torment you. This marriage to Parker means nothing to us, nothing at all. Less than nothing, really. Other than a slight legality. I will divorce him just as soon as I go to the Northlands, which my handmaids tell me is the only place one can effect a divorce to one of the Northmen. Evidently there is some ceremony where one lights a fire made up of the husband’s bed. Then one walks backwards around it three times while holding a chicken, a bumblepig, and a cat, saying, ‘Man of the north, husband of my bosom, and bearer of the twig and two nuts which the great god Snor hath given thee to people the lands, I shun thee henceforth and forever. No more will I receive thy body unto mine, and to my hands I restore all that I brought to the marriage,’ and just like that, the marriage is broken, and the divorce complete.”

  Deo stared at her as if she had a chicken, a bumblepig, and a cat dancing on he
r head before giving his own head a brief shake and saying merely, “If it wouldn’t be too much to ask, could you refrain from marrying anyone else?”

  “I’m already wed,” she said with lofty disregard of the low growl he made deep in his chest. “I can’t be married to anyone else; otherwise I’d be wedding you today.”

  “Somehow,” he said, tapping her on the hip until she slid off his lap, allowing him to rise, “I don’t think the fact that you are already wed would stop you from marrying whoever else struck your fancy. Very well, I will tell my parents that once I’ve taken care of Lyl, Nezu, and my Banes, and you’ve walked backwards around your husband’s burning bed, we will be wed. Until then, I expect you will wish to remain with my father or the queen.”

  “Actually,” she said, watching him as he pulled on his clothes. She very much enjoyed how tight his breeches were, and the way they caressed the long lines of muscles in his thighs. It was almost as good as the way the black tunic stretched over his chest. “I believe I will accompany you.”

  He frowned again, just as she knew he would. “Why?”

  “Because you need me. Also…” She hesitated a moment, trying to find words to capture the fleeting impressions she’d had of the queen. “Deo, what do you know of the water talkers?”

  “They are my mother’s mother’s family,” he answered, sliding on a scabbard that rested on his back and held his sword. “Water talkers are Waterborn, although they do not use that name.”

  “Your mother is troubled,” she said slowly, still struggling to make sense of her thoughts. “She went to the temple yesterday, in the morning, before you arrived, and when she emerged, she was much disturbed. She met with Lord Israel, but neither would tell me what the priestess told the queen.”

  Deo gave a little shrug. “If it was something of importance, she would have mentioned it to you, or at very least to me. They said nothing last night, other than to continue to blame me for leaving Lyl in Starfall.” A little flash of pain was visible in his eyes, not the physical pain she knew he always bore, but one that struck soul deep. His guilt over Sandor’s death.

  She moved into his arms, holding him tight, pressing her lips against the pulse point in his neck. “My love, you forget that I was there when your Banes attacked. Your father tried to reason with them, but they would have none of it. They have fallen under my father’s spell, and thus, you are not responsible for their acts. You did not kill Sandor through them.”

  He held her for a minute, not saying anything, but she knew he felt the guilt his father had cast onto him. “It will be a long ride to Starfall. I will travel hard, with few breaks,” was all he said, giving her a swift appraising glance. She lifted her chin, and was pleased when he gave a little nod, saying only, “Be ready to leave at noon.”

  She watched him go, her heart warmed by the fact that of all the people on Alba, he was the only one who was not deceived by her appearance. He knew just how strong she could be.

  “Noellia!” she called, scanning the items in the bedchamber, making a mental list of everything that must be done before they could depart. She would travel light, with just a few garments and necessary items, and would be sure to stop by the kitchens to arrange for food for the journey. Deo frequently forgot that not everyone had the strength to go for days without eating.

  “Aye, my lady?” the handmaid answered, appearing in the doorway.

  “Fetch the Kingfishers,” she said, naming the twin daggers that Deo had given her upon their return from Eris, his betrothal gift, one that had shocked Allegria and Hallow but delighted her.

  She smiled to herself. Deo might be a little put out by her marriage to the Northman, but a long journey together would go a long way to providing balm.

  One that hopefully would include more time to ride him as she had that morning. Her womanly bits highly approved of that possibility.

  Chapter 9

  If there was one thing Deo hated, it was having his plans crossed.

  “I dislike having my plans crossed,” he informed the man who staggered off a lathered horse before almost collapsing at his feet.

  “Urgh.” Quinn the captain said. He took a step and weaved, clutching the red-headed Shadowborn woman with one hand, while the other held onto Dexia, the small vanth in girl-form, both of whom had likewise slid from equally worn horses.

  “Oh, it’s you.” The little vanth eyed Deo. “We could have used you earlier.”

  On the whole, Deo approved of the sometimes-vicious little vanth, even though he was less pleased with Quinn, an emotion that dated back to the trip out from Eris, when he’d caught wind of a foul rumor regarding the captain’s blatant pursuit of Idril.

  “A thousand pardons that we have ridden literally day and night without rest, spending a vast fortune on rented horses, not to mention spending so much time in the saddle that I may never have children,” Quinn added, with an attempt at a bow that went a bit wonky, and almost felled him and Ella. “To upset your plans is clearly unthinkable, although the lack of waiting horses, men, or supplies indicates we have not interrupted a major campaign.”

  Ella giggled, then groaned when she moved to the side to allow a stable hand to take her horse.

  “We rode so hard that I have a blister on my arse,” Dexia said, spinning around, clearly about to hike up her dress to show him.

  “I don’t need to see your arse blisters,” Deo said quickly, averting his eyes from the vanth in case she decided to show him anyway. He narrowed his eyes on Quinn, asking, “What is of such importance that you had to ride so hard and interrupt the decidedly major plans I had to leave at noon?”

  “Lots of things, but do you think we could have a bit of wine before I unpack all our adventures for your enjoyment? Oh, and be sure to cool down the horses before they are fed. They deserve extra oats for their acts of courage to spirit us away from…well, we’ll go into that once our throats are a bit less parched.” The last was spoken to the stable hands, all three of whom nodded before hurrying off with their charges.

  Deo sighed the sigh of a martyred man, one who had not only had his wedding canceled, but who’d learned that his betrothed had yet again married someone who was not him. He really would have to keep a closer eye on Idril. Clearly, she couldn’t be trusted to go about on her own without wedding the nearest available man. “Ale. You can have ale, not wine. One tankard, and that’s only because Idril is not here, where she’s supposed to be.” Deo frowned at both his horse and Idril’s when a stableboy brought them out.

  “You are all graciousness,” Quinn said in what Deo found to be a suspiciously smooth tone, but he led the threesome into the hall of the house where he’d been given accommodations and asked for ale.

  By the time food, bread, fruit, and bowls of sweet butter were brought, and Quinn had slaked his thirst on two quickly downed tankards of ale while Ella had fallen on the food with little cries of joy and Dexia had gone off to find something “with a bit of blood in it,” Deo’s patience was running out. “Well?” he asked.

  Quinn belched, excused himself, and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his tunic. “Yes, we are well, but only by the grace of both goddesses. I’ll start at the beginning—”

  Idril glided into the room, giving Deo a pointed look when she asked, “Deo? What are you doing here? I thought we were leaving at noon, and it’s a quarter past now. Oh, hello captain. Ella. Where is the sharp-toothed vanth?”

  “Out scavenging for something to eat,” Ella said around a mouthful of bread and butter, a few crumbs scattering on the table before her as she spoke.

  “Scavenging? But—” Idril glanced at the food on the table, narrowed her eyes in thought, and said simply, “Oh. Yes. Just so.”

  Quinn rose and gallantly offered Idril his chair, an act that Deo immediately resented.

  “Allow me, Lady Idril,” Quinn said, holding the chair for her. “And may I
say just what a pleasure it is to see you again? Especially since you look so hale. Did you do something to your hair? No? Perhaps you have a new gown? Or is it just the blinding light of your soul shining that so dazzles the eye?”

  “Or perhaps it’s the bullshite you’re spewing that is blinding you,” the woman Ella said under her breath before stuffing yet another piece of bread into mouth.

  “Thank you, captain,” Idril said, moving over to him. She offered a smile that Deo felt was far too nice for the likes of Quinn. “I’m happy to see you again, although just what you’re doing here is beyond my understanding—”

  She hesitated when Deo, giving Quinn a non-too-gentle shove, took command of the chair, and with a look at Idril that dared her to comment, waited for her to sit. “That’s what I’ve been trying to find out,” he said abruptly, “but Quinn’s been too busy pouring ale down his gullet to answer.”

  Quinn snagged a three-legged stool that sat against the wall, and plunked it down next to Idril, smiling at her before picking up his tankard. “We rode hard for three days, and barely escaped death. Well, Ella did, since Dex can’t be killed and I’m lifebound, so if I’m killed, I’ll just pop right back to life. Where was I?”

  “Ogling Idril?” Deo asked in what he thought of as his most reasonable tone, his arms crossed. Inside him, the burn of chaos threatened to come to life, but he kept it clamped down. The captain wasn’t worth the trouble of explaining to his father why he’d unleashed a power that could have devastating effects.

  Quinn shot him a quick assessing glance, but relaxed when Deo did no more than raise an eyebrow.

  “There is no one worth admiring more than Lady Idril, to be sure,” Quinn answered.

  Ella murmured something that sounded like “arse.”

  Quinn ignored her to pour out a bit more ale, and say, “As I was about to tell Lord Deo before your gracious presence joined us, we came from Starfall. Originally. Hallow sent us there after we defeated the thane, to see what Darius was up to.”