"You had a happy childhood then, despite—" she cut herself off abruptly, biting her lip on the words trembling there.
"Despite being orphaned by the war Hafgan and Tresk started? Yeah, we really did. Maddyn and Ran remembered our real parents, but for me, the Alwyns were the only mother and father I ever knew." He swallowed against the lump and blamed stinging eyes on the smoke. "I haven't thought much about the happy times, though. Not since... Not since my second set of parents were murdered. Because of the same men."
"What really happened to them? Everyone knows you and your brothers blame Hafgan. But he claims innocence, and he's never been brought to justice."
Phelan wanted to growl in frustration. Hafgan evading responsibility was an old wound that would never heal. Not until they got their vengeance.
But none of that was Selena's fault. And he understood her curiosity. He'd heard it often enough. For her, though, he'd break open the seal he kept over the memories and tell her the truth.
"My mother agreed to take on an apprentice named Irana. She seduced Caerwyn and got the four of us out of the way on a romantic quest. While we were gone, she tried to steal the Cauldron that the Alwyns have been caretakers of for centuries. Like the spring, it helps channel the magic of the Isles, when linked to the other treasures of the Milesans. Our parents caught her in the act and confronted her. She killed them with sorcery."
His throat tightened, remembering the blood, the chaos, the excruciating sense of loss.
"We arrived minutes too late to stop her. To save them. But we stopped her from getting the Cauldron and she died in the fight. After, when it became obvious that she'd lied about pretty much everything, we all went in search of answers. I ended up pretending to be a bard in Marnak. Made some... less than respectable contacts. Eventually found out she had been a street fortune teller who got picked up as an apprentice by Hafgan. I couldn't get any real proof, though. Not the kind to take before the Council anyway. So we kept looking for answers on our own, careful not to be too conspicuous about what we were doing."
It still grated, that the Council simply refused to listen to them. It was obvious that most nobles believed Hafgan was responsible and still would not act. They'd gone so far as to forbid them from investigating Hafgan for fear of starting another war. Not that it had stopped Phelan or his brothers. Even now, when they'd brought undeniable proof, the Council only grudgingly admitted there was a reason to be wary and allowed them to investigate more openly. With the admonishment to be prudent.
Selena shifted even closer, offering comfort with the warm press of her shoulder into his. And with a soft caress of understanding rippling along the connection.
He slid his arm around her waist, and she dropped her head onto his shoulder. The quiet interlude only lasted a few minutes, however.
"There's something you should know. About me. Something..." She sighed and sat up and shifted a little. She put only an inch or two between them, but it suddenly felt like miles separated them.
Her heartbeat thumped heavily, and her dismay scratched along the bond even though he could tell she was trying to hide it.
Her eyes locked on the fire and she never looked away as she spoke.
"I told you about being orphans and eventually being claimed by our father when we were teenagers. What I didn't tell you—" Selena shivered and Phelan knew it wasn't from the cold. He forced his fingers to curl into a fist to keep from reaching out to her. "Our father is Tresk."
She whispered it and, for a second, Phelan wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. Then a spike of angry betrayal tried to lodge its way into his heart, but he refused to let it take root.
Whatever her bloodline, Selena was not Tresk. He knew her well enough, now, to know she could never be anything like the Warlord.
This time he didn't stop himself. Settling his hand low on her back, he rubbed gently, trying to chase away the faint tremor chasing through her muscles. From the tension still knotted under her skin, he knew she hadn't finished saying what she needed to say.
"Tell me," he encouraged.
"We were blinded and captivated by the glamor of the capital. The sudden attention and adulation." She closed her eyes, guilt and loathing beating in time with her heart slithered through the connection. "And when Hafgan first noticed that I had an affinity for the energy of the leylines, I was seduced by the magic he showed me. I agreed to become his apprentice. I wanted to learn what he knew. Do what he did. At first, it was amazing and exciting. Then bit by bit I walked deeper into his world. The things I saw."
She pulled her legs up and dropped her head to her knees. She kept talking, though, her words muffled but clear to Phelan.
"It was horrifying and terrible, and I only saw the tip of the dark sorcery he was steeped in. The worst things, I only heard about those. Another apprentice refused to take a life and was imprisoned. I was sure the same thing would happen to me, sooner or later. I didn't tell Arun for the longest time. He knew something was wrong, but I tried to hide it from him."
Selena bit her lip, tears sparkling on her lashes as she blinked them away.
"He was Tresk's heir. He was spoiled, adored, and celebrated. He was happy. But then Tresk told me I had to marry Hafgan. That I didn't have a choice. And I knew I couldn't stay."
Phelan forced himself to remain still, tried to breathe calm into his anger. The idea of Hafgan having any kind of claim on her made him furious. But he knew his rage was the last thing she needed right now. Phelan stayed still, continued to stroke her back and reminded himself she was well away from the bastards who ruled Marnak.
"When I told Arun, he wanted to go after Tresk with a sword, but I convinced him not to."
"Too bad," Phelan murmured, and she lifted her head to give him a ghost of a smile.
"Instead, we made plans to get away from them as quickly and quietly as possible. There was another apprentice who wanted out too. Lilah had been a street thief before Hafgan 'rescued' her. She still had contacts in the capital's underworld, and between the three of us we managed to escape without being caught."
Phelan listened, heart aching that he hadn't been there to help as she talked about life on the run, of finding her village devastated and abandoned. Of finding out about the refugees who disappeared and getting involved with saving them.
"I've been worried, every day since we left Tresk's palace that they'd come for us one day. But, even more, I worry that deep down, I'm more like them than I can see. The dark magic, the sorcery. It's a taint on my soul. What if it's growing and I don't realize it?"
Her voice trembled, dipping with fear. Phelan had seen her take on men twice her size with an icy glare and a steady hand, but this uncertainty scared her.
"There is no taint in your soul," Phelan swore fiercely.
For the first time since she started talking, Selena looked at him fully, eyes dull but certain. "I did things. As his apprentice. I hated it. But I did them. Because I didn't know how not to. Because I was afraid to say no."
"You healed the spring. You healed your brother. You've been healing people for years since you left the capital. Sorcerers can't heal. They can stop the bleeding. They can conjure something to bind a wound. But they can't heal. Because their power comes from corruption and destruction."
Her forehead wrinkled in consideration but she still looked doubtful. "But humans don't have magic. What I do, it has to be sorcery."
And once, not long ago, Phelan might have agreed with her. But he'd learned a lot from the brief time he'd spent in Hara Dale. He was beginning to think that bit of common knowledge was inaccurate at best.
"The popular belief is humans have no magic. That they can only turn to witchery and sorcery. The Tribes and Milesan brought their own magic from the west, and it evolved and adapted when they split. But the Goddess people inhabited the continent long before all the invasions. Some among them were touched by the Goddess. And that touch was passed on to a successor in d
eath. Sometimes by heredity and sometimes by the choice of the touched. When they realized their way of life couldn't withstand the invaders, many of the Goddess-touched hid among the normal farmers and laborers, appearing to be just like everyone else. Eventually, those first inhabitants intermarried with the various invaders. Including the touched among them. I think that gift continues to be passed on, either accidentally or on purpose."
Selena's lip was caught between her teeth and Phelan wanted to soothe the marks it left. Wanted to soothe all the jagged uncertain things he felt still rattling inside of her.
"My ability to see the leylines. To feel them and touch them. The old stories say only witches can do that."
Selena turned her eyes toward the fire.
"They said my mother was a witch. It was one of many reasons why we were barely tolerated in our village. I was terrified, the first time I touched the power. There's an old stone in the village square. Ancient enough that whatever was carved on it has faded so much, you only knew it's there by running your fingers over. The first time I touched it, it felt like a spark jumped across my fingertips." A soft smile played around the edge of Selena's lip as she lost herself in the memory. "It was just a tiny little dribble of power. I could see only a single thin leyline running under it. I never mentioned it to anyone because I didn't want to get labeled as a witch too. Being the illegitimate orphaned daughter of one was bad enough."
"Trust me. You are not a witch. You are not tainted. We've been studying everything we can about sorcerers since Irana murdered my parents and we discovered Hafgan was a threat. Your soul is not corrupted."
He slid his thumb along her jaw, and she turned into the caress, pressing her lips against his skin. Unable to resist, he tilted her face closer and met her mouth with his own. The kiss blazed over his nerves, and the unspoken desire between roared across the bond, consuming them both.
*****
They started out before dawn the next morning and were on the road another day and a half before the forest slowly gave way to flatter grasslands. Despite not remembering his life before the Alwyns, a visceral part of Phelan's soul always felt like he'd come home when he saw the land his clan had once protected.
The soft snap of a twig breaking twitched his hearing, but he kept his eyes straight ahead, ignoring the sound. He knew they were being watched, had been since they'd stepped inside his kin-tribe's territory. He just would have thought he rated a better scout than the amateur tracking them.
They continued to ride in silence for another few minutes before faint sounds signaled an approaching welcoming party. He smiled faintly. This was a quicker reception than he'd expected. Unfortunately, he didn't know if that boded well for them. Or very, very badly.
When they were close enough that Selena's head tilted toward the sound, he motioned for her stop and they waited.
"Phelan?"
Before he could say a word, a group from one of the local kin-tribes rode into view. A mix of young and mature, men and women, all wearing the traditional braids twisted into hair that ranged from platinum blond to soft chestnut.
At the center of the riders, a woman with grey-streaked brown hair and a steely gaze stared at Phelan with silent judgment. The chieftain of this kin-tribe. Tala Ven.
He'd been to Tribes land before but always remained in neutral territories. At markets and bazaars where they occasionally gathered to trade and share tales. He'd contacted kin-tribes in the past, to varying degrees of success. He recognized a couple of younger hunters facing him and the little bit of hope he'd held onto sank like a stone. This wasn't going to go well.
Chieftain Tala was flanked on either side by two men who shared a few too many of her features not to be related. Phelan didn't recognize the younger hunter on her left, but the arrogant smirk of the rider on her right was all too familiar. His name was Lorcan and, unfortunately, Phelan had run into him once before. The kid had taken exception to his presence in Tribes land and come out on the wrong end of a brawl in a market tavern. Now, facing Phelan with numbers on his side, he puffed up his chest and sneered.
"I see you've given up pretending to be one of us and finally shaved off your braids. Too bad it seems any brains you had fell out with it. Coming onto our land was foolish." Lorcan leaned forward in his saddle to sneer down at Phelan. "Luckily for you, it will be the last foolish thing you do."
Phelan rolled his eyes and ignored the taunt. Instead, he kept his attention on the chieftain. Keeping his hand in sight and away from any weapons he carried, visible or hidden, he got off his horse. Moving slowly until he stood halfway between Selena and the chieftain, Phelan greeted her with the traditional open-handed gesture of respect and humility.
"Honored Tala. I come to offer a warning of Marnak's encroachment on the lands between. And to ask for assistant in both protecting the borderlands and a powerful site of magic from Tresk and Hafgan's greedy grasp. "
Selena inhaled slightly behind him, and he forced himself not to wince. He should have warned her he intended to be brutally honest. Thankfully they were far enough away that most wouldn't have noted her reaction enough to read anything into it.
The chieftain surely had, though. And the youngest looking hunter, hanging back at the edge of the group cocked his head and smiled. The movement drew Phelan's attention, and he noted the white beads woven into the braids and the hint of tattoo curving along one wrist bone.
A shaman. Younger than any Phelan had ever met. But he knew better than to underestimate anyone who had endured the training and trials to earn the markings of the title in Tribes land.
"You're not fooling anyone. We know Tresk turned his attention south and his troops line the border there. Stop playing games and return to your deviant homeland," Lorcan sneered.
Phelan resisted the urge to put the young hunter in his place. Again. Instead, he kept his focus on the chieftain's implacable frown.
"He is sending a selection of squads to the outpost near a spring that flows with the spirits of the land."
Lorcan opened his mouth, but this time Tala raised her fist to silence him. His teeth clacked with how fast he closed it and Phelan bit his cheek to keep from laughing at the sound.
"Tresk has not been foolish enough to cross the border since the war ended," Tala said, calm, unruffled reserve in her voice, but her eyes had sharpened. "Why would he risk antagonizing us, now?"
Phelan gritted his teeth. "Because Hafgan wants the spring to increase his magic and Marnak's grasp. And I came too close to it. Now he intends to seize it before I can remove it from his clutches."
He carefully kept his attention forward and didn't mention that there was another prize from the outpost that Tresk and Hafgan wanted. What Selena had trusted to him in confidence, he would keep.
Tala's frowned deepened, and she shrugged as if it didn't concern her, though he saw the way her hand twisted tighter in the reins. Phelan had seen this power play one too many times not to recognize it. It would take them days to negotiate at this rate, and they didn't have time for that. The people they'd left behind at the outpost didn't have time for that.
Phelan dropped all pretense of diplomacy, lifted his chin, and snarled. "In their pride and arrogance, the Tribes didn't call for the Milesans to help until it was almost too late. My clan was slaughtered because the war dragged on far longer than it should have. I have no memory of my parents because conceit and stubbornness stayed your hand for too long. I am what I am, what you disparage, because my brother, still a child himself, had to decide whether to let us die or corrupt what you consider our 'purity' to save us."
He let his eyes drift along the line of the kin-tribe, daring anyone of them to sneer at him now. Every gaze dropped from his, except for Tala and the shaman.
"Don't make the same mistake again. We will do everything in our power to stop Hafgan from gaining control of the spring. But we are few and not well trained or provisioned. If we fall… If we fail, it is only a matter o
f time before Tresk and Hafgan get what they want. And once they have it, they will turn their eyes back to the Tribes."
The silence was deafening, Phelan's furious heartbeat and hammering for action in his ears.
"There is a gathering with our two sister kin-tribes at the enclave of the Fox. We were on our way there when the scouts found you and alerted us. We will have a tribunal and consider your words. Come."
Tala didn't wait for an answer before turning her horse and heading back up the trail. Her entourage followed suit. Phelan rolled his eyes, wondering if his own clan had been so dramatic.
"Now what?" Selena asked once Phelan had climbed back on his horse.
"Now? We follow them to the enclave and hope to convince all three chieftains it's worth the risk of war with Tresk to protect the outpost and the spring."
"And if we fail?"
"If we fail, we go back and do it ourselves."
*****
The enclave wasn't anything like Selena expected. In her village, tales of the Tribes were little more than bedtime stories. And in Tresk's capital, they were considered nothing more than backward barbarians. A mix of permanent and temporary structures spread out over an area larger than her home village. At the center was a cleared circle surrounded by staggered benches, obviously meant for some kind of entertainment.
When Selena had been surprised by the square, stone huts that filled more than half the enclave, Phelan had rolled his eyes at her.
"We— They haven't been nomadic in the way of legends for centuries. Every kin-tribe has small permanent villages set up all over their territory. Hunters, of course, follow the migrations and spend much of their time away. But not all of them are hunters."
He nodded toward a group that looked exactly like every song and story she'd ever heard described the Tribes.
"Some farm large gardens or keep livestock. They even have tradesmen. There are bazaars and markets that spring up but generally, they are mostly impermanent and move between territories. "
"But this isn't one of the villages?"
By Blood Betrayed (The Lost Shrines Book 3) Page 15
