Exiles (Ilyon Chronicles Book 4)

by Jaye L. Knight

  After handing her horse off to one of the waiting stable hands, Anne met Grey with a hug. “You’re looking well, my lord.”

  He nodded as they parted again. “Yes, this sunshine certainly helps.”

  Anne agreed. “The roads are still a bit sloppy for riding,” she said as she glanced down at her mud-spattered riding skirt, “but it’s so good to be out.”

  “I was thinking of taking a ride myself later. I want to see just how bad the crops are.”

  “We noticed the fields on the way in. It doesn’t look good.”

  “That’s what I’ve been told.” Grey grimaced, and then shook his head, recovering his smile. “But let’s not talk of that while you’re here.” He greeted Elanor and Elian and motioned for them all to follow. “Why don’t we talk in the garden? No sense in being inside on a day like this.”

  They walked around the castle and into the garden. Many of the decorative flowers had failed to bloom in the wet earth, but enough greenery managed to survive to brighten up the place. When they reached a grouping of benches near the central fountain, they all took seats.

  Baron Grey set his gaze on Anne. He spoke quietly, but with enthusiasm. “Trask told me the news. Congratulations. I can’t tell you how happy I am for you.”

  Anne grinned. “I’m sure he’d agree with me in saying it was time. Now, we just have to go through with it.”

  And, hopefully, it wouldn’t take as long to get married as it had just to become betrothed.

  “I pray it will all come together for you. I think it would do you both a lot of good.”

  Anne nodded in agreement. She was more than ready now.

  “I see you are wearing one of Katrina’s necklaces.”

  Anne glanced down at the pendant. “Trask gave it to me the other day. He thought it would be less suspicious than a ring.”

  Grey smiled warmly. “It looks lovely on you, just like it did on his mother. It was one of her favorites. Do you remember her?”

  “Yes, I do. She was a very lovely woman.” Though she’d had darker hair than Trask, she’d had the same green eyes. Trask looked a lot like her. He also had her driving compassion for others.

  “She used to watch you and Trask and say, ‘those two will marry one day.’”

  “Did she?” Anne laughed, considering how Trask had teased and tormented her more than anything as a child. “I suppose she never expected it would take so long.”

  Grey shrugged. “Well, Elôm has a way of working things out when they’re supposed to.”

  Anne nodded, praying that the wait all these years had been the right choice and that it would soon be over. It was difficult not to know when she and Trask could actually marry.

  “Whenever it finally happens, I’m sure we can find a way to make you a part of it.”

  “I would like that,” Grey said, his eyes crinkling with another smile.

  The ringing echo of blades bounced off the circular walls of the training court inside Auréa. Daniel blocked a high strike and pressed against his opponent’s blade. The young man backpedaled, leaving Daniel with an opening to attack. He swung low and then across the man’s middle. Both attempts were blocked, but with another thrust, Daniel had his sword point pressed against his sparring partner’s chest. He breathed out hard and shook his head as he lowered his blade. The young man hadn’t even made an effort to block that last attack.

  “How am I supposed to know if I’m a halfway decent swordsman if you always let me win? You’re not going to hurt me with a blunt blade, and even if you did, it’s not like I’d have you arrested.” He tried to temper his frustration and soften his tone. He hadn’t minded so much when he was young and it was all fun and games, but he took it more seriously these days.

  “Now, come on. Fight me. For real this time.” He raised the sword for a second match, but the young man sent a questioning glance at the other instructors. Daniel sighed and let the sword drop. Shaking his head again, he turned to look around the room. He put his arms out in exasperation. Surely, someone had the guts to actually try to beat him. “Is there anyone who will give me a proper fight?”

  “I will.”

  Daniel’s gaze shifted to where Aric stood in the doorway. How long had he been there? Daniel had watched him spar before. The man was one of the most skilled swordsmen at Auréa. He had to be to have secured the position as head of security.

  Daniel nodded eagerly. “Thank you.”

  Aric strode in and unbuckled his jerkin and sword belt. “Like you said, you won’t know what kind of swordsman you are if you’re never challenged.” He handed his jerkin and sword to one of the attendants and took the blunt practice sword from Daniel’s previous sparring partner, who backed quickly to the perimeter of the room.

  Giving the sword a few test swings to get the feel of it, Aric faced him. Daniel took his own sword in both hands. He had the distinct feeling he was about to get exactly what he wanted, and he honestly couldn’t say how he would fare against it. Both excitement and hesitance rose up inside him. He could look like a complete fool in the next few minutes. He fought to keep his ego in check these days, but it would sting nonetheless.

  Aric nodded his go ahead, and Daniel attacked, tentatively at first. They traded a few blows in relatively slow succession before the tempo increased. Within the first couple of minutes, Daniel could tell he faced a far more skilled and determined opponent than he had previously. He liked it. It allowed him to fight with the same determination. It also required far greater concentration.

  The minutes stretched out. Moisture built on Daniel’s skin and plastered his shirt to his back. When was the last time he’d built up such a sweat in practice? Even his arms started to burn. As far as he could tell, the match was pretty even—both of them attacking and defending equally. However, there were several moments when Aric’s sword nearly found his flesh. Though he reacted in time to block, his rapid defense was awkward and sloppy. If he’d had a moment, he would have sent his trainers a scowl. So much for their praise of his “flawless” technique. He wouldn’t have had them punished for accidentally injuring him in a real training session, but he just might for lying and coddling him.

  A long ten minutes into the match, Daniel barely blocked a stinging blow to the shoulder, but it threw him off balance. In the split second before he could recover, cold metal rested against the side of his neck, and just like that, the fight was over. He stood for a moment in surprise, his chest heaving as he stared down at Aric’s sword. No one had bested him since his early days of training. A grin split his face and a breathless laugh escaped. Finally, someone who treated him like a man and not just royalty. Though he’d always held Aric in high regard, his respect grew a hundredfold.

  Aric removed the sword from his neck and met his gaze.

  “Thank you,” Daniel said, working to catch his breath. “That’s the best workout I’ve had . . . ever.”

  Aric nodded, also breathing heavily. “You’re good. You have a few areas to work on, but you’d be a match for anyone, save the most experienced swordsmen.”

  Daniel appreciated both his honesty and praise. Very few men besides Ben spoke to him so openly. “I’ll be sure to work on those areas.” He cast a hard look at his trainers, who ducked their heads. “Providing I can find someone to properly spar with.”

  “I’d be happy to,” Aric offered.

  Daniel smiled “I would certainly appreciate that.”

  “Tomorrow then?”

  Daniel nodded. “Tomorrow.”

  Aric gathered his jerkin and sword and left the training court. Daniel turned and approached his trainers, who looked at him rather sheepishly.

  “I’m not a fragile piece of glass that will shatter at the first misstep,” he said. “I can take a hit.”

  “Yes, my lord,” the oldest of them replied with a bow.

  Daniel didn’t believe for a moment that any of them would change their ways. But at least he had Aric to practice with now. He already looked for
ward to tomorrow. Maybe he would take a few hits. Not that he relished the pain, but he was sick of being treated like a woman when it came to his training. Sometimes pain was the best way to learn. It encouraged focus and discipline.

  He handed off his practice sword and strode out of the court, heading in the direction of his chambers. When he reached the family wing of the palace, Davira’s door opened ahead of him. His sister sidled out first, a saucy smile on her face. One of the security guards, Collin, followed on her heels.

  Daniel hadn’t failed to notice their little rendezvouses over the last year, though he’d just as soon be ignorant. Disgust boiled up in his stomach. It was bound to happen, of course. It always did when an attractive new face arrived at Auréa. He supposed he couldn’t blame Collin entirely. His sister was a master at luring men in and trapping them for her own personal amusement before thoughtlessly casting them aside as soon as she was bored. By the time they realized their mistake, they were already too entangled in her web to free themselves from her control without risking ruin. Daniel had witnessed several staff dismissals and disappearances of a highly suspicious nature over the last few years.

  They didn’t notice him at first, but when Collin turned to leave, he caught Daniel’s eyes. Surprise, and then shame, claimed his face as he dropped his gaze.

  “My lord,” he murmured, keeping his head down as they passed each other.

  He definitely bore the look of a man who knew he’d been trapped and had no escape. Regret stung Daniel. He should have warned Collin about his sister’s wiles when he’d first arrived. However, back then, Daniel was so bent on defying his father and having his own way that he hadn’t much cared what went on with Davira and the staff.

  But the men’s shame wasn’t even the worst of it. How many pregnancies had his sister aborted because of these trysts? Three, at least, that he was aware of, and only because his mother knew. No doubt Davira had kept even more secret. It hurt Daniel now more than it had a couple of years ago to think of the nieces or nephews he’d lost. Surely, he would meet them one day in eternity.

  He slowed when he neared Davira and received her conceited smirk. She seemed to dare him to condemn her lifestyle. As much as she loved their father, it did surprise him that she lived so promiscuously. If there was one thing he could praise his father for, it was being a faithful husband to their mother all these years. It was the one and only thing Daniel sought to emulate, though he credited his mother more for this desire. She’d drilled her insistence that he save himself for his future wife into him from the moment he’d first noticed the female gender. Though he’d taken some of his past “relationships” further than he should have, her persistent voice always echoed at the back of his mind and prevented him from taking actions he knew he’d regret now, thank Elôm. He really needed to make sure he took the time to thank his mother properly as well.

  The fact that he didn’t imitate his sister’s behavior seemed to infuriate Davira, and she never grew tired of badgering him over it. He set his gaze ahead, intent on distancing himself from her before she could make any of her lewd comments. Just as he passed, she said, “Father was looking for you.”

  He paused and glanced back. What could he want now?

  Davira sashayed a step closer, but stopped short, wrinkling her nose. “I suggest you find out what he wants. But wash up first. You smell.”

  He snorted, half tempted to pull off his sweat-drenched shirt and toss it at her, as he would have when they were children, just to hear her shriek. Now that they were both adults, he wasn’t sure that was wise. His sister had a very dangerous way about her. Best not provoke her since he honestly didn’t know how she might respond.

  “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” he muttered as he stalked on down the hall.

  Nearing his room, he made a sudden direction change. Davira was right about one thing. He did need to clean up and one pitcher of water from the washstand would hardly be sufficient.

  Back on ground level, he headed out the back of the palace to the covered pool overlooking the garden. The still water offered promise of refreshment after his intense workout. Maybe he could wash away thoughts of Davira along with the sweat. He tugged off his boots and stockings first and then peeled off his shirt. He paused when he caught sight of a young maid nearby, waiting with a towel for when he finished his swim. How did the servants always know exactly where to be even when he wished they wouldn’t? He couldn’t very well send her away without making her feel like she’d done something wrong, so he just sighed and decided against removing his pants. Even in undershorts, he wouldn’t have been comfortable, and the poor girl was already halfway to blushing as it was, though she did avert her eyes.

  Daniel waded into the pool up to his waist and then dove in to submerge himself completely. The cool water washed over him, soothing the fatigued muscles in his arms and back that would surely be sore come morning. He stayed under until his lungs craved oxygen and then pushed to the surface. The refreshment did indeed restore his good mood.

  In no hurry, he swam the length of the pool a few times before climbing out. He stood at the edge, dripping, and the servant girl hurried forward with her towel. He took it from her before she got too close. Davira would just stand there and let the servants towel dry her, but he wasn’t about to do anything of the sort. He was more than capable of drying and dressing himself. Thank Elôm he’d convinced his manservant of that a long time ago.

  He scrubbed the towel against his wet hair and then swiped it across his arms. “Would you get a couple more towels please?”

  The girl nodded and hurried to do his bidding. When she returned, she handed them over and stepped back.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  She looked down shyly, not meeting his eyes. She was a pretty thing with a sweet and innocent face, though a bit young. Not that his father would ever allow him to entertain such thoughts as seriously pursuing one of the servants or any other woman of such a lowly position. It would have to be someone of noble birth if his father were to approve. Daniel hadn’t met any noblewoman yet that he felt a real connection to. And he couldn’t imagine having a wife who didn’t share his faith in Elôm, though, at the rate his father was imprisoning and killing them all off, he was probably doomed to remain single for the rest of his life—a gloomy prospect. He offered a silent prayer to Elôm that this wouldn’t be his lot.

  With the extra towels, Daniel dried his pants as much as possible, so he wouldn’t leave a trail of water through the palace, and went inside. He took a route to avoid running into Davira again and reached his door. He pushed it open, halting after his first step inside. His father sat in one of his chairs, waiting for him.

  Daniel stood in the doorway and stared at his father. Tension wrung his previously relaxed muscles. He made a cursory scan of the room to make sure he’d hidden the verses he’d been studying earlier. His father almost never came to his chambers. He’d have to be far more careful about what he left lying around from now on. His father did have a thin stack of papers in his hand, but they did not look familiar.

  Finally, he stepped fully into the room and closed the door. “Father,” he said, unable to hide his suspicious tone.

  His father must have picked up on it. “Since you do everything in your power to avoid communication, this seemed to be the only way to get you to talk.”

  Daniel locked his teeth together to keep from retorting and complaining over the invasion of his privacy. Apparently, he couldn’t even count on finding solitude in his own rooms anymore. Working to cool the flame of ire, he strode past his father and into his bedroom to his wardrobe, where he changed into a pair of dry clothes.

  “I heard you sparred with Aric.” His father’s voice came from the sitting room.

  “Yes.” Daniel shoved his arms and head into a linen shirt and tucked it hastily into the waistband of his pants. He grabbed his boots and walked into the sitting room to face his father. “It was the first real match I’ve ever
had. Honestly, if you’re the one who ordered the men to take it easy on me, you’re doing me a great disservice. I didn’t even know until today that I had areas in need of improvement.”

  Daniel dropped down in the chair across from his father and pulled on his boots. “So, what was so important it has you waiting for me in my room? I doubt it has anything to do with my sparring session.”

  His father lifted the papers in his hand. “It’s high time you were more involved in the running of things here at Auréa.”

  Daniel barely bit back a sigh. Of course, what prince wasn’t expected to work alongside his father in learning the ins and outs of running a kingdom? But that was just the problem. He hated to share the same space as his father, let alone work with him. Still, he swallowed his objections, bitter tasting as they were. If there was any chance of reconciliation between them, wouldn’t Elôm desire him to seek it? After all, maybe a willing attitude might just soften his father, perhaps even to the point that Daniel could broach the subject of Elôm.

  “What sort of involvement did you have in mind?” he asked, careful to hide his lingering reluctance.

  In response, his father narrowed his eyes probingly.

  For pity’s sake, couldn’t the man just be thankful he was attempting to curb his rebellion instead of greeting it with suspicion?

  Not finding whatever answers he sought, his father replied, “My birthday celebration is little more than a week away, as well as the opening of the arena.”

  Daniel’s innards recoiled. He’d stayed as far away from the arena as he could over the years. He hadn’t liked the idea of such violence from the beginning, never mind now when he believed just like the people who would die there in droves. If there were any way he could put a stop to it, he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.