The wind grew stronger, and lightning flashed through the dark clouds. Crew members darted here and there to tighten rigging and prepare the ship for a storm. Rhoane avoided looking at the ocean. The white caps atop turbulent waves were not the last things he wished to see before he bedded down to what promised to be a fitful night’s sleep.
He took Faelara’s elbow in his hand and guided her through the melee of sailors. Once they were outside her cabin, he released his hold. She thanked him and turned to open the door, then paused.
“Rhoane?”She waited for him to face her.“Do you truly believe we are only meant to have one mate?”
“Most Aelans do not share the Eleri custom of mating for life. I would not expect you to understand, but yes, I do think there is only one person we are meant to share ourselves with.”
Her face fell, and he tucked a stray curl behind her ear, cupping her cheek with his palm as he did so. The intimate gesture surprised both of them. Her skin was warm despite the chilled air, and he wondered at the meaning behind her question.
“I did not mean to upset you.”He searched for words to comfort her.“You are not bound by Eleri customs and are free to choose your mate. If there is a man you desire, what is stopping you from pursuing him?”
Her wry smile did not lift his spirits. Instead, he felt his words had made the situation worse.
“You’re very kind to say so, but I’m afraid that’s impossible. You see, the man I love is, most likely, marrying another woman at this moment.”She opened the cabin door and turned away from him.“You are not the only one locked into a life over which you have little control.”
Her words hovered around him long after she’d closed the door. He didn’t know Faelara well enough to know whom she meant, but if there was a man who had scorned her, he was a fool. Faelara was a woman worth fighting for, of that Rhoane was certain.
He ambled to his own cabin, rocking with the ship and hating the queasiness in his gut. He envied Faelara’s ease on water, her ability to adapt to sea travel, and her enjoyment of the ocean. She was a remarkable woman, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like if he could choose his mate. Would Faelara be his equal in everything? Or even Kaleigh? His memory scanned the Eleri women he knew, and none of them enticed him.
Even with Kaleigh’s gentle nature and Faelara’s intellect, they were not meant for him. His thoughts drifted to Faelara, most likely reclining on her bunk, yearning for her lost love. That’s what Rhoane had done for much of his childhood—yearned for a future he could not control. He sat on his own bunk and ran his hands through his short curls, cursing the oath he’d made. It changed nothing, he knew, but after a lifetime of holding onto his own truths, he didn’t know how to rewrite the story. How to accept what was expected of him could be good, for not only him, but Aelinae.
Chapter 9
THEY docked with no fanfare, nothing to indicate the ship carried three prominent persons. Once the gangplank was lowered, the captain ordered their horses unloaded first. He was in no mood to be trifled with this morning, nor apparently did he want his strange passengers aboard his ship a moment longer than necessary.
The trio was equally as eager to be on solid ground. They rode through the streets of the Summerlands capital in silence. Rhoane and Faelara discreetly admired the well-trimmed houses and shops they passed, while Myrddin slunk into his saddle, as if dozing. His hood covered much of his eyes, and every so often a sleepy snort issued from the depths of the fabric.
At the palace gates, he roused himself and asked whether the king and queen would accept an audience with an old friend. Rhoane exchanged a glance with Faelara. Her raised brow and narrowed eyes answered his unspoken question. The empress had sent messages to each of their respective stops along the route; therefore, the king and queen would be expecting the group. Yet Myrddin hadn’t mentioned their names, or their mission.
They followed a young groom to the stables and left their horses in his care. Several pages retrieved their meager possessions and indicated the visitors should enter the palace through the main doorway before scampering off in the opposite direction.
Another page escorted them through the colorful hallways decorated with mosaic tiles that depicted scenes from the sea. One in particular captured Rhoane’s attention. It was a scene of Menurra’s harbor with dozens of ships ready to sail into the distance. But there, almost hidden between two dolphins, the artist had skillfully inserted a mermaid into the scene. A broad smile lit up her face. For a moment, he thought he could hear her laughter.
“Rhoane, did you hear me?” Faelara touched his sleeve, and he shook his head.
“I was distracted. I am sorry.”
Her smile was not nearly as joyful as the mermaid’s.“I said, the king and queen will see us now.”
Two massive doors swung inward to reveal a huge hall covered in the decorative tiles. Flowers, stars, the sea, deserts—every aspect of Summerlands life was captured in the room. The great vaulted ceiling was a blanket of midnight, with the sun at one end and twin moons at the other. In the direct center was Dal Tara.
A thrill shot through him at the sight of his mother’s resting place. Although it was only colored glass, the artist had infused the mosaic with a touch of ShantiMari, which gave the portrait ethereal appeal.
At the far end of the room, two chairs sat upon a dais, with the king and queen looking as though they’d stepped from the ceiling. Queen Prateeni wore an elaborate headdress made of gold and gems. Exquisite strands of pearls framed her face. When she inclined her head in greeting, the sound of bells filled the space. Despite the heat, a thick blanket covered her body; its white fur shimmered against the queen’s burnished skin.
Beside her, the king wore a less ostentatious crown, although it was covered in pearls, diamonds, and rubies. His right hand rested over the queen’s left, a simple gesture that piqued Rhoane’s interest. Most nobility rarely showed public affection, his mother and father among them. To see the king gaze upon his queen with devotion in his deep brown eyes charmed Rhoane.
Myrddin chatted amiably with the monarchs as Rhoane and Faelara stood silently behind him. Obviously the mage was a frequent visitor to the palace. Again, Rhoane and Faelara shared a questioning glance. When finally the queen tilted her head in their direction, Myrddin finished his tale and hooked a thumb at them.
“As promised, I brought you the two most gifted healers in all the realms. They will see your child delivered without incident. The Summerlands will have an heir in short order.”
Faelara’s amber eyes flashed anger toward the mage, her lips thinned to a dangerous white line.
“You are both genari?”Queen Prateeni asked. Rhoane had never heard the expression, and with the queen’s heavily accented Elennish, he wasn’t even sure whether she’d asked or stated a fact.
“No, Your Majesty. I am Lady Faelara dal Arran. My father is High Priest of Talaith, and while I am skilled in healing, I am not genari. Neither is my friend.”Faelara cast a scathing glance at Myrddin, who smiled with a little too much mischief lurking upon his lips.“May I present Prince Rhoane, First Son of the Eleri.”
Rhoane bowed low to the monarchs, his hand over his heart. Whatever was happening in the throne room, he wanted answers as much as Faelara did, but he chose to remain silent until he had the situation sorted.
The queen clapped a hand over her mouth as an audible gasp escaped her lips.“An Eleri? Here?” She rose on unstable legs, and her husband immediately was at her side to help her down the few steps. Her belly, naked and swollen with her growing child, protruded above the waistband of her long skirt. A swirl of golden dots had been carefully painted onto her skin.
“Welcome, Prince Rhoane, Lady Faelara. I am Queen Prateeni, and this is my husband, King Faisal. But I’m sure you already know this. By the looks on your faces, I am going to guess you didn’t know you were coming here to assist in the birth of our son.”
The king placed a pr
otective hand over Prateeni’s belly.“Your empress assured me you were skilled in childbirth. This has been a difficult pregnancy for my wife. We cannot lose another child.”
“Another?”Faelara ventured.“How many have there been?”
“Two thus far. Both male and in my final months.”Prateeni’s skin turned a horrible shade of ash, and Faelara reached for the woman’s temple.
“You are like ice. Help me get her to her rooms. Rhoane, come with me.” Faelara spit out orders faster than a hemlox did vinegar seeds. The others in the room moved into action, heeding every command the petite woman made.
Myrddin caught Rhoane’s elbow as he strode past.“Don’t be angry with me, boy. I did what I had to do to get you here.”
“Why the deception? You could have just asked us to attend her birth.”
“And would you have come?”
Rhoane knew the truth without saying the words. He wouldn’t have traveled across the sea to help the queen, but manipulating them, as Myrddin had, deserved his wrath.“I suppose we are not going to the other kingdoms, then?”
“Only if you want to do some sightseeing.”Myrddin clapped him on the back. A grin teased his lips.“I know you spent more than three seasons with the Ullans, healing their sick, attending the wounded. You can do this, Rhoane. If the queen can give birth to one healthy child, she will never have difficulties again. It’s imperative to her House that she deliver this baby.”
Rhoane suppressed his anger. Myrddin had manipulated both him and Faelara and although he in time might understand why, he couldn’t let the queen suffer now.“I will do this, for the queen and not for you. But you must promise me, no more lies. If you need my assistance, you ask for it. If you use subterfuge again, I will not view you as a friend. Are we clear?”
Myrddin faced him, a sober expression on his face.“You are a man of honor, Prince Rhoane. I don’t wish to be your enemy.”He held out his arm for Rhoane to grip, and the two embraced with the pact.“Now, see to the queen, will you? I have an errand to run.”
Rhoane debated for a split second whether he should follow the mage, but Prateeni’s screams pulled his attention to the royal bedchamber.
The scene he walked into was one of horror. A pool of blood ran slick across the floor, with footprints smeared from one end to the other. The queen thrashed atop the covers, mumbling incoherently. Faelara sat by her side, speaking in soothing tones. The king paced the room, his face a thunderstorm of emotions. When he saw Rhoane, he approached, lashing out as he did.
“You! You brought this on. What sort of charlatan are you? An Eleri prince? Ha!”
Startled and confused by the tirade, Rhoane refused to shrink from the man.“I am not now, nor will I ever be, a charlatan. I have skill in healing, but if you would prefer I let your wife die, I will leave this room and never return. Her death will be on your conscience, Your Majesty, not mine.”
The king fumed anew. Words spoken in his native tongue sputtered from his lips. Curses, most likely. Rhoane waited out the tantrum. His thoughts spun. What in Ohlin’s name did Myrddin get them into? And what did he mean, Rhoane and Faelara wouldn’t search for Lliandra’s mate? Whatever game the empress was playing, Rhoane wanted no part, but just as he had to endure Amdi’s arena, he suspected he’d have to endure Lliandra’s folly.
Faisal’s tirade quieted and he nodded toward the bed.“If you can help her, I would be grateful.”He grabbed Rhoane’s sleeve as he passed.“But speak to me like that again, and I will not be as generous.”
Rhoane met the man’s even stare.“You cannot force respect, sire. It must be earned. I will forgive your outburst this time and look forward to your future generosity.”He hadn’t spent all that time with the Ullans without learning how to stare down his enemy. Except Rhoane didn’t think Faisal was his enemy. He hoped the king felt the same. They needed to be allies, the Summerlands king and the Eleri.
Faisal glared at him, but Rhoane brushed past him to the queen’s bed. Sweat soaked the pillowcase beneath Prateeni’s head, and her garments were stained with blood. Her distended belly protruded at grotesque angles where the baby was tossed by his mother’s movements.
Without speaking, Rhoane channeled his ShantiMari and focused on the ancient practices of calm he’d learned as a young man. He spread his hands wide over the woman’s body and gently let his power embrace her. She paused in her thrashing, and Rhoane cooed reminders to relax, to think of the baby. He sent subtle suggestions of sleep to both her and the child. Only when her body sank into the thick blankets did Rhoane place his palms upon her belly. Eyes closed, he probed her womb to look for signs of distress. The baby’s heartbeat entwined with his power, faint but steady. If they didn’t bring the child forth within the next bell, both mother and son would die.
“Faelara, reach inside and tell me what you feel,” Rhoane whispered.
“Are you mad? The king will behead us both for impropriety.”
He’d known Faelara less than two moonturns, not long enough to be sure he could trust her, but the situation didn’t allow for caution. He lifted his hands from the queen’s inert body and brought them together at his chest. Kaleigh’s image formed in his mind, and he recited the words she’d spoken to him hundreds of times. The cadence had to be perfect. The words spoken in the right order. There could be no hesitation.
The others in the room slowed to an unrecognizable pace. Faelara looked up at him with wonder in her eyes.“Are you doing this?”
“Please, do not ever tell anyone what you witness here today.”
“You have my word.”She touched a sunbeam that traveled from the window, her look one of pure awe. With a flick of her finger, she sent it spiraling in the opposite direction.“How is this possible?”
“An Eleri gift. Someday I will explain it, but right now, we must save two lives.”A glint of indecision crossed her eyes.“What is it, Faelara?”
“Can they hear us?”
He shook his head.“We are nothing but an irritating buzz. If there is something I should know, you must tell me.”
“It’s just…doesn’t it seem strange the queen went into labor not more than a few minutes after we arrived? By the looks of her, she isn’t due for a few weeks, possibly a moonturn.”
“Do you think Myrddin had anything to do with it?” The man was a mystery to Rhoane, a fact he was determined to change.
“Only if it served his purpose. He’s a scoundrel to be sure, but utterly devoted to Lliandra. I suppose now he’ll want me to stay here and care for the queen.”She cocked her head to the side. A silly grin tilted her lips.“That sly fox. He managed to get me away from Talaith and excused me from the distasteful business of finding Lliandra’s lover. I owe him a debt of thanks.”
Whereas Rhoane had lashed out at the man, Faelara gave him gratitude. Once more, he was humbled by her kindness. It also made him soften toward the mage. Perhaps his manipulations did serve a purpose. Still, he didn’t like being deceived.
“Now, to deliver this child.”Faelara snapped her fingers, and a bowl of steaming water appeared. She scrubbed her hands and forearms before drying them on a towel. When she’d finished, she waved the basin away and settled herself between the queen’s legs.
“Perhaps I am not the only one with secrets,” Rhoane said, impressed with her ease in wielding ShantiMari.
Faelara’s grin turned to determination as she maneuvered her hand into the birthing canal. Rhoane kept his eyes diverted from the queen’s modesty, focusing instead on the protruding belly. His power swirled within the womb, healing what he sensed had been harmed with the queen’s fit. The baby’s heartbeat faltered for a moment, and Rhoane urged Faelara to hurry.
The queen groaned, and the sound echoed off his folding of time.
“I can feel the baby’s head,”Faelara said.“He’s turned, which is very good for us. Can you get him to drop down?”
Rhoane shifted his power to both the baby and Prateeni.“I need you to push, Your Majesty.”He wasn�
�t at all sure she could hear him, but when he felt her contract and push against his power, relief crashed over him. They had a chance of delivering not just the baby from danger, but the mother as well.
“That’s good, Rhoane. Have her push again, but not yet. I need to shift his shoulders. He’s too broad for her.”Faelara jerked and shoved against the queen, grunting her dissatisfaction with each thrust.“Okay, now.”
Rhoane repeated his request, and Prateeni responded. From the corner of his eye, Rhoane saw the faintest shadow approaching. He turned toward it, but sunlight poured through the window and blotted out the stain.
“He’s almost through, Rhoane. Undo whatever it was you did. We can’t deliver the child without them seeing us.”
Rhoane released his hold over time and swayed with the rush of power sucked from him. The king stood beside him, holding Prateeni’s hand and begging her to fight. At the sight of Faelara and the baby’s head, tears glistened in his eyes.
“One more push, Prateeni. You can do it,”Faelara urged, as if she’d been asking the queen to assist with the birth the whole time.
With a deafening cry, the queen bore down. A moment later, her son slipped onto the bed. Rhoane’s ShantiMari engulfed the lad, sustaining his weakened heart, forcing air into his lungs. He gave a lusty wail, and the room breathed as if for the first time all day.
Once the child had been cleaned and swaddled, mother and son were moved to another room until her bedchamber could be cleaned. Rhoane, Faelara, and the king stayed with mother and son well into the night, until their eyelids drooped and sleep won out.
Just before he drifted off, Rhoane cast his power over the room to add one final ward against the blackness he sensed at the edge of his consciousness. His ShantiMari blanketed them, and he snuggled beneath it in the knowledge they would be safe. A shock of white filled his vision for a moment, then disappeared.
A woman’s voice lingered in his dreams.Be gone, demon.
The Darathi Vorsi Prince (Song of the Swords Book 0) Page 8
