by Dawn Peers
“I don’t think we would. As the adopted daughter of the baron maybe, but only if there was no conflict between the two lands. No, I don’t wish any part of you changed. Because it wouldn’t have changed the outcome, not really. Things happen for a reason, and I won’t forget you.”
“I should hope not!”
They grinned at each other, trying to keep the mood light. The ascent up the cliff to the Castle of Sevenspells would be when the mood dropped, Quinn knew it. This was still their time, and she was determined to see it all out. They had perhaps only a few hours left together. They would go to bed, and go to sleep. Then they’d be woken in the morning by Harn, and he would drag her before Shiver for judgement. If there was one person in their retinue that Quinn did want to use her ability on, it was Harn. Even worse than Shiver, who could perhaps blame lineage and fame gained in the Empath Wars for his egotistical posturing, Harn was just a disgusting human being. Quinn had daydreamed about making him walk off the path to a gruesome plummeting death, though she knew that would be the same as signing her own death writ. She did her best to try and avoid him, although sometimes the man was just too in everyone’s face. He kept on baiting Eden, pointing out that he was still a lord where his brothers were princes, reminding him constantly of how fragile his standing was with his father. Eden responded to this in the only way he knew how—he’d ignored him. Eden confided in her that Harn was a troublemaker, and always stirred up dissent between the brothers and their father. Eden had learned how to handle him long ago, and Harn hated that. It had become an escalating game between them, and it was one that Eden was tired of playing. For her part, Quinn hated it. She wished he didn’t have to play such games with such people, but she’d lived her whole life in and around court, and knew that he had no alternative.
When a knock came at the door, they both tried to stifle their laughter. Convinced that, after drinking too much ale they were disturbing the rest of the inn, they thought their muffled silence would make the intruder go away. When the knock came again, Eden got unsteadily to his feet and staggered across to the door. Eden only opened it an inch at first, but opened it wide when he saw who stood there. River walked in, and the boy looked embarrassed to be there. No, that wasn’t right. River wasn’t a boy—he was older than Eden. Quinn had to keep reminding herself of that. There was no real comparison between them.
“River! Are you okay? What are you doing here?"
“I heard you laughing. I felt lonely, so I just thought I’d come and say hello.”
Eden didn’t answer his brother, so unused he was to this kind of gesture. River took this as a sign, and started stammering with embarrassment. “I…I mean if that’s okay? I didn’t mean to intrude?”
Eden waved his hands, trying to stop himself from laughing. “River, don’t worry. Come and sit with us, you’ve only had Harn for company haven’t you? I’m sorry we haven’t spoken much. It must have been miserable for you.”
“He’s not pleasant company, I have to say."
“Why did you accompany him?” This was from Quinn, not Eden who already knew the answer.
“My father’s not really one who takes no for an answer. He was convinced that, if I didn’t go with Harn to Port Kahnel, then Eden wouldn’t have come back. He thinks you might have gone elsewhere."
“Elsewhere? There is nowhere else.”
“I mean to Vance. Father thought you might have gone back to Everfell."
“With Sammah there? I don’t think so."
“Still, he didn’t want to take the risk, that’s all. So he ordered me to come, because he knows you trust me.”
“Well, that was true enough. And it was nice to see your face after being presented with Harn. That man alone would have been enough to turn me on another road.”
River smiled awkwardly, and Quinn couldn’t help but explore the man’s feelings. She kept on thinking that River was like her; or at least the girl she had been before her experiences with Sammah, and in Farn. River was awkward and shy, and inexplicably so. He was the son of a great lord, and second in line to inherit the lands of Sevenspells. By all rights, he should have been bristling with confidence, strutting around like his older brother, demonstrating to the ladies of the court how much of a prize he was. Instead, he seemed like stammering, simpering half-idiot, barely able to finish sentences most of the time. Sandwiched in between his two brothers, River looked positively incapable of rule. Quinn was certain, if anything befell Rowan, that Shiver would disinherit River in a heartbeat to make sure Eden would be the one that would take his seat next. What she found inside River wasn’t surprising. He was a maelstrom of emotions. The overriding one was fear, which was odd, considering he was sitting with his own brother. Embarrassment was there, and so was nervousness. Did he not want to go back to Sevenspells?
“What was Kahnel like? Did you have to stay there long waiting for us?”
Eden filled a wineglass for his brother, passing it over. He kept the ale for himself—evidently River didn’t favour pale drinks. “It was eventful enough. I hate Kahnel. It stinks of fish, and all of the men are loud. If I’m being honest, I would have rather stayed in Sevenspells."
“With you, that’s saying something. You hate it here.”
River didn’t enjoy living in Sevenspells—to say he hated port Kahnel more was not complimentary to the place. Quinn couldn’t agree with him—she’d loved the feel of the port. If she ever managed to settle anywhere, she was sure she’d pick there.
“And Harn? Has he been okay with you?”
“He’s being ridiculously pleasant to all of us since he was made captain of the guard. It’s amazing how something as simple as a title changes a man.”
“And who else has is it changed? How was our father behaving now that he thinks he is king?”
“He’s not acting any differently. As intolerable as usual. Rowan’s gotten worse.”
“Worse? What do you mean?”
“When you were made chamberlain, and you were spending all your time with Vance, he was convinced you were going to betray us. He kept on talking to me, telling me how you weren’t one of us anymore and you couldn’t be trusted. He told me to stop speaking to you, so I did, like a fool. Then mother arrived, and she agreed with everything Rowan said. She told us she had seen father down in the cells, that he’d spoken to you. He was on your side, which Rowan couldn’t believe. Rowan decided for all of us, since he was the Lord of Sevenspells at the time, that none of us could talk to you. We were effectively told to excommunicate you from the family—because he knew that you’d turned against us. Then he found out you were going to Sha’sek…” River glanced at Quinn, and he seemed to hold back out of fear.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Carry on, none of the rumours about me are true.”
Eden placed a gentle hand on Quinn’s. “River, you can trust her. I trust her.”
This affirmation seemed to give the boy courage. “When you went to Sha’sek, Rowan took that as a sign. That, he said, was the final straw. He was convinced that you’d never come back from the islands. He was preparing a writ to remove you from the line of succession. Then, thank the spirits, father escaped."
“He was going to do that! How? That wouldn’t be allowed!"
“He was the rightful Lord of Sevenspells, he could have done what he wanted."
“But someone else would have had to agree with him—corroborate. Are you saying mother agreed to that?”
“I think he was forcing her into it. She didn’t want to."
“I’ve never known anyone to force our mother to do anything she didn’t want to do—never mind Rowan.”
“Well, it didn’t happen, and then father escaped, and he tore the document up. He told Rowan that he was being a fool, and everything you were doing was for the good of Sevenspells. After that, everything in Everfell went terribly wrong. We got out of there so quickly, and we were lucky that we lost so few men. I don’t think Daggerdale or Kahnel were so lucky with their ret
inues. When it was clear that Sammah was in charge, father immediately had a messenger bird sent out to Sha’sek. When we got word that you might be heading back here, he sent me and Harn to Port Kahnel. He said we would stay there for as long as it took, for you to either come back, or a messenger bird signalling your death arrived with us. That’s how certain he was. He knew you’d come back to us, or you’d die for our cause.”
Eden resisted the urge to tell his brother that he had almost died on the crossing back. River hadn’t asked about his bruises. River never would. Bruises were normal amongst the sons of Shiver.
“What actually happened in Everfell?”
River hesitated. “I still don’t know, Eden. It was so confusing, and like I said, it happened so quickly. The king told us, Rowan and me, that the trial for our father and the baron was being delayed. He didn’t tell us why, just that it was. We thought it had something to do with you—with the girl. Rowan started asking questions, and went to challenge Sammah about it. That same night, Sammah just…walked out of his cell.”
“Walked out?”
River nodded. “Walked out. There was no blood, no fighting. Not at first, anyway. Vance declared that he’d been wrong—that Sammah had been innocent, and Shiver was the criminal. That’s when everything went to hell. Rowan, Calvin, and Venn fought to get Shiver out of the cells. We barely got out of there with our lives. It was only because so many men held loyal, and the guards in Everfell didn’t know what was happening, either. Father claimed that Sammah had done it with treachery, with someone gifted, from Sha’sek. But Quinn wasn’t there anymore, and no one knew who else could do it.”
“And you all ran?”
River nodded. “We did. Father didn’t want to go, not straight away. He wanted to find Sammah and kill him there and then. He said he should have been allowed to, and Vance had stopped him from doing that during the wars, and caused all this mess anyway. The other lords had overruled him, and he wasn’t king, not yet.”
“But then they voted him?”
“When everything settled down, and it became clear what was happening, yes.”
“But all along my father believed in me? What Harn is saying then, about him disinheriting me—is that true?”
River started picking at his fingernails, which were already immaculate. “That bit is true.”
“Do you have an intended now, then?”
“I’m betrothed, yes. Father set up my match, and promised that it could wait, as long as I brought you back here. We’ve received word that Rowan is already married.”
“Already? That…wow. That didn’t take long.”
“Father is worried about the stability of the kingdom. I think he was even disappointed when none of us turned up any bastard children as potential heirs. Either way, he’s after grandchildren now, so be warned. Oh…I’m sorry.”
River had glanced at Quinn, who was keeping her face deliberately blank. “It’s okay. Don’t worry, your highness. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”
“Please, call me River. Any friend of my brother’s doesn’t need to show me any airs and graces.”
“Thank you, River.”
Quinn liked this misunderstood prince. He reminded her of the way Maertn had been before leaving Everfell. He reminded her of herself when she had been a maid.
“So, who are the lucky ladies?”
“I’m marrying the Lady Tanya of Kahnel.”
“Tanya…Calvin’s eldest? That’s a fine match, especially for a second son. You’ll be second in line to inherit.”
“I never wanted to be in line to inherit anywhere, never mind two provinces I despise,” River said miserably. “I was looking forward to my quiet life living hidden in Rowan’s shadow, obscured by your fame. No one was meant to remember Lord River of Sevenspells. Now I’m a prince, and worth marrying off to eldest daughters. I never wanted any of this, Eden. Why don’t we get a choice in this?”
“The only thing we can’t choose is who we are born to be. We can only make the best of the life we have been given.”
Quinn’s voice was distant, and her response had been automatic. Both of the young men turned to her. “That’s deep, Quinn.”
“And it makes sense don’t you think, Eden? You’ve lamented before, about being born in your position. Why? There are thousands of people in Everfell that would trade with you in a heartbeat.”
“They’ve never met our father. Or our older brother.”
“And do you think they’re any worse than brothers, fathers, and uncles across the country? You aren’t the only ones with problems. Look around you. At the wealth you have, and the privilege. If you want to escape your family, you can. You can get on a horse and go for a ride. You can hide yourself somewhere else in your castle. River, you’re going to be able to hide in a completely different province—one that you could one day rule. And you consider that a bad thing? Listen to yourselves.” Quinn sounded disgusted, and both men looked suitably embarrassed in the face of her onslaught. “There are people out there with real problems. Men who toil all day and still struggle to put food on the tables for their families, for one…”
“And what do you know of that kind of family, Quinn? You grew up in Everfell. Your father didn’t treat you to the luxuries we’ve been used to, but you were safe.”
“Safe? My father used to send me with hired mercenaries to question all manner of men. I wasn’t even ten years old when I questioned my first rapist, and I don’t want to describe to you what that felt like. And at least you know you belong here. I’ve never belonged. When the truth came out, about what I was, I was sent away. Exiled, Eden. Can you say that? Can you tell the people around you anything about yourself, that would make them want to send you to another country, for life?”
Quinn was out of breath; she had barely stopped relentlessly pummelling him with her words. Eden just stared at her. He didn’t have an answer.
Quinn had promised herself that she wouldn’t use her ability against him again, so she did pay him that honour. She didn’t, however, want to see him again for the rest of that day, nor on the climb up to Sevenspells. It was clearer now than ever before, that they had been born too far part to be happy together. So much of her still yearned for him, but there was a core part of her brain, hidden safe behind walls of iron, that knew Quinn had to start distancing herself from Eden before it was too late. Her heart would be broken, but if she severed their ties now, it would mend.
“You’re father’s going to be introducing you to your betrothed tomorrow, I have no doubt. I think it best I say my goodbyes now, my lord.”
“Quinn please, don’t go. Not like this.”
It might have been the wine influencing her; it might have just eliminated the last of her fear, but Quinn knew even in her cold anger, that she was doing the right thing.
“This is the only way it can be, Eden.”
* * *
The hooves of her mount scraped against the rough stone of the cliffside, spilling clusters of pebbles down the path they had already tread. Quinn tried not to look down the side; the sight of Lancing down on the valley floor was galling, and every time she caught sight of the ever-shrinking homesteads below, Quinn thought she would heave. She concentrated on Tarik instead, still being carried in a pallet drawn by a couple of horses. Quinn had decided to travel at the back of the caravan of horses and wagons. Riding with the dwindling remains of the caravan’s provisions, any wounded—only Tarik had that dubious honour—and the healer to tend him. Ross had tried to travel with her, but Eden had called him to the front of their riding party. Eden had wanted Quinn there too, but she had pointed out she was not of any worth. Both Eden and Harn had disagreed, for different reasons, and Harn had placed a handful of soldiers some distance behind the caravan to make sure that Quinn didn’t bolt for freedom.
Quinn knew she wouldn’t try to run—she had no idea where she’d go. She was hesitant to meet Lord—no, King—Shiver again, though she didn’t have a choice. Tak
ing her place at the back of their group had given her the time and space to pick through what she knew, and what she had experienced. Shiver would ask for her help, that much, she anticipated. What she didn’t know, was what Shiver would ask her to do.
It was a better alternative to being presented back to Baron Sammah. Quinn repeatedly told herself this, to quell her rising panic. The closer they got to the grey walls of Sevenspells, the sweatier her palms got. She couldn’t slow the rapid beat of her heart, and she would have given anything right then for one of Maertn’s valerian teas. She thought about asking the healer for some, but the sour old man hadn’t even made eye contact with her so far this morning, and she didn’t think he’d want to waste any of his precious provisions on someone like Quinn.
Tarik still hadn’t woken. Quinn hoped the rough ride would rock him awake, as his body was shunted back and forth in the makeshift litter. Instead, she found herself now wishing their journey upwards was over, as the man’s neck moved enough to look like it would snap. He’d be lucky if he survived this last treacherous leg. As if to emphasise her point, a wooden wheel of the litter rode over a cluster of rock, and the contraption swayed precariously back and forth. Quinn pursed her lips. Everyone else around her was calm, at least where their safety was concerned, so there was no need for her to start whipping everyone else into a frenzied panic.
* * *
They were nearly at the summit when a call in the distance got everyone’s attention. Quinn squinted up, and could see a lone rider heading down to them at speed on the winding path. It had to be an experienced rider, because Quinn was convinced anyone without confidence would buck their ride and break their neck on the winding trails.
The rider headed, inevitably, to the head of the group. There was a hasty conversation, followed by confusion as heads started twisting around, looking for something. The heads carried on turning until Quinn realised, with horror, that they were looking for her. The searching eyes of the last set of soldiers, followed by the healer, settled on her.
