She’d also called him her beloved.
Luc nudged him, and Rhoane’s laughter bubbled up from deep inside. How asinine he must look standing thigh-deep in the surf, almost naked,and leaning against his horse for support. He pulled himself atop Luc’s back and tilted his face to the sky.Be brave, and do what frightens you most, but always, always have hope.
Rhoane nudged Luc into a trot, and together they raced along the shore until they were soaked. With each thunderous crash of Luc’s hooves, Rhoane released his fear, his anger, his well-honed rage. Twice the beauty had shown herself to him when he needed her most. Like faerie drossfire during the darkest days of Wintertide, she staved off the blackness that threatened his sanity. Both times there was gaiety in her eyes and laughter upon her lips. If she were his Darennsai, she didn’t appear to resent the obligation.
And if she wasn’t his Darennsai? What if she was a vision meant to lure him astray?
He stopped the thoughts that nudged at his tentative calm. Whoever she was, and come what may, he welcomed her company.
He and Lucitan chased waves and galloped along the shore until the sun hovered over the cliffs to the east. Luc brought them back to where they’d left their belongings and trotted to a stop, his chest heaving with the exciting ride. Rhone’s heart pounded against his ribs. There he was, an Eleri riding an Ullan stallion on a deserted Summerlands beach. How vain he’d been. How positively self-righteous. He’d been raised to believe the Eleri were above all Fadair, but no one culture was above another, except for the gods. And someday the Darennsai would reside in Dal Tara with his goddess, Verdaine.
He slid from the stallion, sore from the ride, hungry, and sunburned, but he didn’t care. His mood was lighter than it had been in far too long. The setting sun cast long shadows over the beach, and he shivered against the encroaching chill. He’d ridden in a daze, unsure of the path he’d taken to the beach. Trying to find his way back to the palace at night would be suicide. Instead, he donned his clothing and searched the area for driftwood.
Once he had a fire made, he stretched out on the hard sand and fell into a deep sleep. He dreamt not of the platinum-haired woman, but of myths—of the merfolk and their king. They swam with him beneath the sea to a palace made of coral with alabaster columns and spirals of whalebone. The king welcomed him, calling him Surtentse.
In his dream, the king told him the story of how the Surtentse and Darennsai became lovers. Of how she, being made of moonstone and stardust, lived in the sky, and he, a young sapling, lived on the terrarae. Each day and night they would gaze upon each other, never touching or speaking, but knowing in their hearts they were destined to be as one. Then one day, the Darennsai could bear it no more and fell from the sky, plummeting to the terrarae and her death.
The sapling did what anyone in love would do—he grew wings. He stretched his branches and leaves until he flew to meet her and captured the Darennsai just in time. They tumbled together into the sea, where something extraordinary happened. They grew arms and legs, torsos and faces. They became man and woman.
There, in the warm waters of the Summerlands sea, they swam together and consummated their love. But when the Surtentse stepped out of the water, he became a sapling once more. He returned to the safety of the water. Night came and there was no moon, no stars lit the dark sky, and they were frightened. If the Darennsai was not returned to the sky, life on Aelinae would cease to exist.
And so she returned to her heavenly home, and he to the terrarae.
Rhoane woke with a start. Embers from the fire glowed softly in the pre-dawn light. He sat up and shook his head to clear his thoughts. The dream lingered still, vivid in his mind, yet details slipped away. There was much more to the dream, to the story, but each time he reached for more, he remembered less.
A nagging disquiet lingered. Something the darathi eneari had told him, he was certain and yet it, too, escaped him.
His stomach gave a vicious tug, and he stumbled from his makeshift bed to the edge of the shoreline. He scooped a handful of water into his hands and brought it to his face.Darathi eneari.He splashed the water on his face and again several more times. In his dream, there was a darathi eneari—a water dragon. He was certain of it. But they didn’t exist. They were legends, nothing more.
Luc trotted to his side, and Rhoane gazed out over the horizon where the sun rose in the west. To some, the Darennsai was nothing but a legend, yet he believed she was real. If she could exist, then certainly so could merfolk and darathi eneari.
He returned to the palace before breakfast, but the place was a hive of activity. Several clusters of men on horseback waited in the courtyard. Faelara marched toward a white mare, her face set into a hard line. When she glanced up and saw him, palpable relief swept over her features.
“Thank the gods! We thought you were kidnapped by pirates.” She hurried over to him, concern replacingher relief.“Rykoto’s balls, Rhoane, what happened to you?”
A pinch of guilt twisted in his gut. She must’ve been worried about him. He surveyed the soldiers. Faisal was sending out a full regiment to search for him. How selfish he’d been to stay on the beach without letting the others know he was well.
“I am sorry, Faelara. I lost my way, and it became too dark to travel safely.”
“You’re sunburned. Come, let’s get you fed and salved.”
Faisal rushed from the palace with Prateeni not far behind, the prince held close to her breast.“Your Highness! Thank Julieta you are well.”He indicated the mounted men.“I was ready to search the entire island for you.”
Rhoane slid from Lucitan’s back and bowed low to the king.“I hope you will accept my sincerest apologies. I did not mean to cause you alarm.”He hadn’t expected this much concern from the king, and it unbalanced him, to say the least.“I was able to see some of your beautiful kingdom on my spontaneous journey, and I hope you will allow me to stay for a while more. I feel there is much I can learn from you, great king.”
Faisal looked taken aback by his statement, but then a shrewd smile lit up his face.“I would be most interested in hearing of your intrepid adventure. Come. As Lady Faelara said, you could use a hot meal and a bath. Afterwards, we will meet and have tea.”
Queen Prateeni placed a hand on Rhoane’s forearm and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.“You frightened us, Prince Rhoane. Pirates ravage our coastline and would love to have a prince as their captive. You would raise a handsome ransom, I wager.”Her lips lingered on his cheek, and he smelled her scent of honeysuckle mixed with the milky sweetness of the prince. His curls tickled Rhoane’s chin.
“Again, I am sorry I caused you alarm. I promise, in the future I will take an escort when I wish to tour your kingdom.”
A look of relief crossed her face, but there was something hidden in her eyes that put Rhoane on edge.
“What is it, Your Majesty?”he whispered.“Something unsettles you, and I do not think it was my absence.”
“I am not unsettled,”she admitted, speaking low enough only he could hear. She clutched her baby tighter and wound her free arm through Rhoane’s.“I sense in you peace. Something happened to you last night that helped ease your troubled mind, and for that I am grateful. But there is more…elusive, yet there all the same.”
Her ability to read him was uncanny. The disquiet he’d felt upon waking was what she sensed beneath his calm. On the ride back to Menurra, he’d remembered everything the darathi eneari had told him and immediately wished he hadn’t.
In his dream, the water dragon had told him the Darennsai was not yet born. His intended would be a child made of stars turned flesh. Her mother would be the Lady of Light and her father, the Lord of the Dark. Moonstone and stardust would color her hair and she would wield a sword of two dragons. She would love him with every breath, every touch, every thought. He would become her world, her reason for existing, and he would betray her. Not once, but twice.
Then he would kill her.
Chapter 12
KING Faisal paced the tile floor of his office, and Rhoane studied the man’s movements. They’d dined on fresh seafood, drank several cups of tea, rehashed Rhoane’s journey of the previous day until there was nothing left to dissect from his tale, and still the king was agitated.
Plans were being made for the naming day of the little prince, and Rhoane thought perhaps this worried the king, but Faisal waved off his suggestion to help with the preparations. The queen and child were in good health. Faelara had taken excellent care of the pair while Rhoane was gone, showing her skills at healing were equal to, if not greater than, his own. She’d mentioned in passing that she might enjoy a trip to Ulla to study with their healers, but Rhoane had given a noncommittal reply. He wasn’t certain she could handle the brutality of Amdi’s kingdom.
“I have a proposition for you.”Faisal pulled Rhoane from his thoughts.“Lady Faelara has requested an extended stay to care for the queen and prince, as well as to learn our ways and customs. She feels it would be of service to her own empress if the kingdoms shared resources, and I must say, I agree with her.”
Rhoane stifled his surprise. First she’d asked him to take her to Ulla, and then she’d requested to stay in the Summerlands. Either she was intent on not returning to Talaith anytime soon, or she had an insatiable curiosity. He suspected it was the former and there might be a gentleman involved in her reluctance.
“I think opening negotiations for trade would benefit everyone,”Rhoane offered.“It certainly would hurt the pirates’business of stealing your goods to sell on the mainland.”
“I’m glad you mentioned that, Prince Rhoane. I’ve been wondering what I could do with an errant prince in my kingdom, and I believe Lady Faelara has given me an idea. I could use a man of your skill and upbringing. You survived Ulla’s arena, which means you can fight, but I can teach you—other things.”
Rhoane dragged his fingertips along the edge of his chin. He had nowhere to be until the Darennsai was born.“Other things?”
“I’d like to propose, shall we say, a clandestine arrangement.” The king gazed at Rhoane with narrowed eyes, his lips pursed beneath his thick beard.
“You want me to spy for you?”
“Spy is such an ugly word. You aresheanna, which means you are a man without a kingdom. You are beholden to no ruler. I don’t ask you to spy for me, but I do ask that you become an agent for all of Aelinae. I have men who can teach you to blend into a crowd until you are as good as invisible. They will train you to fight with stealth, not for survival, but with grace. They will show you how to gather information without appearing to do so. In short, you will be a cipher.”
The idea intrigued Rhoane.“It has been my experience nothing comes without a price. What do you want in return?”
Faisal stood at the windows overlooking Menurra and the harbor below. His dark brows drooped low and covered his eyes. He held a slim pipe to his lips but did not inhale the smoke that trailed from the opening like a darathi vorsi breath.
“When the Eirielle arrives, you will be her protector, Prince Rhoane, First Son of the Eleri. You must accept this challenge with the pure heart of a high priest to his goddess. You cannot falter in your belief in her, or in yourself.”His words vibrated with suppressed emotion, and Rhoane quieted the questions that sprang to his lips.“I was visited by our goddess Julieta. She does not often show herself, but on the night you disappeared, she came to me in a dream. She showed me two paths—one of destruction, one of rebirth.” Faisal took a long drag from the pipe and turned to face Rhoane.
When next he spoke, the king did not speak the Summerlands vernacular, but Eleri. His voice rose several octaves and sounded nothing like Faisal, but like a young woman.
“The Eirielle cannot be raised by her mother or father. She must be taken from this world and live without knowledge of who she is. When she returns, you will guide her. Some call her the one who is and who is not. She will walk between the worlds. Only you can protect her from what is to come.”
“When?”Rhoane demanded.“When will she be born?”His lingering thoughts from the previous night taunted him.You will betray her twice, and then you will kill her.No. No, he told himself; that cannot be.“How will I know her?”
The woman’s voice once again spoke from Faisal’s lips.“Ynyd Eirathnacht will know her.”Faisal pointed to his sword.“As will Claidholm Solais. Learn the song of the swords. Protect her.” Her words caught, and a sob escaped.
Rhoane cocked his head and peered closer at the king.“Julieta?”
The king’s body slipped back to rest upon a chair, and the form of a woman hovered in front of Rhoane. Her lush turquoise hair floated in curious spirals, and her garments were the color of waves.
“Aye, it is I, First Son.”
She reached a hand toward him, and he blanched at the crushed shells dotting her skin. Instead of looking like jewels, they reminded him of bruises. Her fingers scraped along his cheek to his jaw. When his eyes sought hers, there he witnessed profound sadness, more so than he believed anyone could hope to bear. Tears stung the backs of his eyes, and he blinked quickly to dispel them.
“Do not fear for me, dearest. You will one day save us all from the torment of our past. But you must do as Faisal asks. You must become everything and nothing. A man without a kingdom, your only loyalty to the Darennsai.”Grey eyes, huge against her sand-colored skin, bore into his.“Can you do this? For me? For you? For Aelinae?”
“Not for them or you,”Rhoane whispered, unable to look away from the goddess.“Not even for myself. For the Darennsai.”
Julieta smiled, and it brought warmth to the room. Gone was her sadness, if only for a moment.“Verdaine has chosen well.”She pressed her lips to his, and thick air passed between them, coating his throat.“So you may always visit the water kingdom without fear of drowning.”
She drifted away to nothingness and Rhoane was left to stare at the empty air. He touched his lips. Unanswered questions swirled in his mind.
Faisal stirred and coughed against his pipe.“What makes you so moony all of a sudden?”Faisal pulled another drag, as if he hadn’t just had his body overtaken by a goddess.“Well? Will you accept my offer?”
You will one day save us all from the torment of our past. But you must do as Faisal asks.Julieta’s words teased him. He was beginning to see a pattern to the events of his life. What had Faisal said? Julieta showed him two paths.Yes, Rhoane thought,our lives are always on a path. It is up to us to choose destruction or rebirth.
Rhoane hoped he chose the right one.“When do we begin?”
“I must know you are worthy. A test first. Come with me.”Faisal led him to the far courtyard, where eight men waited. Rhoane had been trained in the courtly ways of swordsmanship, but as he’d learned in Amdi’s arena, street fighting had little to do with manners. Faisal, it seemed, was going to expand on his education.
Rhoane’s first opponent brandished his Summerlands weapon of a short blade with two curlicues near the tip, sharp sawtooths placed between them. Rhoane drew his own sword, and the fighting commenced. It was raw and dirty, like his arena fights, but when he began to feel fatigued, another man joined the melee. On and on it went until Rhoane staggered, his flailing energy barely able to fight off the men. At last, he held up his sword in defeat.
Faisal clapped slowly and circled the men who were bent over, hands on knees. Each of them wheezed as hard as Rhoane.“Well done.”
Rhoane shook his head.“I lost. If this had been real, I would be dead.”
“Aye, you would. But look at them. You fought for near on two bells without ever using your ShantiMari.”
Rhoane’s eyes widened.“The power was not allowed in Amdi’s arena.”
“And is life the arena, Your Highness? Will brigands and thieves care about rules?”
Of course not. Nor would they hesitate for a moment to end his life. Faisal’s men were paid to let him live; others would not be. Julieta’s words echoed in his mind.You
must become everything and nothing. If he were to protect the Darennsai, he needed to be skilled as an assassin.
“Teach me,”Rhoane breathed.“I will not fail you.”
Faisal studied him for a moment before he nodded.“That man behind you, the one with the jeweled scimitar. Slit his throat.”
“What? Why, my lord?”
“Your training begins now. You cannot think about why or if it is fair, you must be able to act without hesitation and do what must be done. That man is a spy for Lord Valterys and has been reporting your activities to his agent in Danuri. Unless you wish the Lord of the Dark and the Lady of Light to know your every move, I suggest you kill him now.”
Rhoane started to turn away, but Faisal stopped him.
“Next time, I expect you to know who your enemy is without me having to point them out.”
The recrimination stung. How was he to know he had enemies? He spun to face the men he’d been fighting. Several stayed hunched over, regaining their breath. The one with the jeweled scimitar rose and faced Rhoane, a challenge in his pale grey eyes. What a fool Rhoane had been to think he didn’t have enemies. Certainly there were those eager to see him dead to prevent the birth of the Darennsai, or perhaps there were those who wished for the birth so they could kidnap her to raise as their own. She would be powerful, more so than his father, more so than the empress or overlord. Gods, he’d been a fool. Running from his shame, hiding from his fear, consumed with anger.
Everything happening was beyond him. He was an integral part of Aelinae’s future, he could admit that to himself finally. He had to survive to protect the Darennsai, and to do that, he needed to take the life of any who opposed him.
Sweat slicked his palm and loosened his grip on the sword. He’d only taken one life, and that had been to save his own. This new enemy could have killed him at any moment during the fight, but he hadn’t. A chilling trickle of realization crept from Rhoane’s crown down his spine to settle in his gut. This man didn’t want Rhoane dead. Quite the contrary. He wanted him alive to track his moves, study him, learn his weaknesses.
The Darathi Vorsi Prince (Song of the Swords Book 0) Page 10
