Still… there was a bounty out on her. A big one. People would be watching for her, especially since it was known that she was making her way to Tanris.
After a while, Camille came and sat beside her, settling onto the rocky earth with a sigh. “They grow restless,” she said.
“I know.”
She tried to pretend she did not see the look Camille slid in her direction. “You falter.”
“No. I would just rather not be captured on the way in.”
“You know, we are unlikely to make this happen without bloodshed.”
“If we can get to Edwell before anyone knows we are there—”
“At least some of his guards will still fight to protect their king. No matter how strong your claim to the throne is, it’s very likely they won’t believe you. Or, worse, they will believe, as Renn did, that you work on behalf of the Maarlai to take every last bit of control humans have in their own society.”
“You do not believe that of me,” Shannen said.
“I believe you do this for the right reasons. But Renn was not wrong. This partnership that will result, with you and Daarik leading your combined people… who among our own kind will believe that you are truly equal leaders? We have been told our entire lives that women cannot lead, and suddenly, they’ll be expected to believe that he does not have the upper hand in your relationship?”
“Then why are you here?” Shannen asked in exasperation.
“Because I believe in you. I want my vengeance, and I believe you can do it. I just want to make sure you know what this step means. There will be death. There will be betrayal. It will not be pretty or easy, and many will hate you more than they hated Edwell. If you believe you will be greeted as some kind of protector or savior, I think you have some rough times ahead of you.”
Shannen did not answer.
“Also, I think at least one of those we picked up from Renn’s is very likely spying for him,” Camille said a few moments later.
“Laird,” Shannen said with a nod. “He may not have joined with Renn’s blessing, but he works for Renn.”
Camille stared at her. “Then why in the seven hells is he here?”
Shannen grinned. “He’s a body who can fight. He is being watched closely.”
“By who?”
“By Reena.”
“She’s sleeping with him,” Camille pointed out.
Shannen gave her another smile. “Funny how that works out, is it not?”
Camille’s jaw dropped and she studied Shannen. “Did you put her up to that?”
“No. I said that I needed someone to get close to Laird and she volunteered.”
“But what if she gets too close to him? Can we trust her?”
“That is why Gildis is watching both of them.”
Camille shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me about this little web of yours?”
“I had a feeling you might disapprove.”
Camille answered with a harrumph. “You were obviously raised among them. Spies on top of spies, lies on top of lies,” she murmured after a while.
They both watched, as, below, Edwell finally left the garden, walking off with his guards. ‘We can take him there,” Shannen said, jutting her chin toward the garden. “The guards stay outside. If we can handle the two guards quickly and quietly, we will likely buy enough time to get Edwell into custody.”
“We—”
“I know. You think I should kill him. I will not,” Shannen said quietly.
“Why are you so stubborn on that point? The dead are no trouble at all. But a living former king will spend the rest of his days trying to earn back the throne he held for so long. You will never rest.”
“Death is too easy for Edwell. He deserves to live for a very long time as a prisoner, growing old while we grow stronger, without him. He deserves to sit aside and watch life happen, with none of the comforts he enjoyed for so long. And he deserves to be forced to watch as I rule, as I always should have.” Shannen turned her head toward her friend. “A quick death would be hardly any vengeance at all.”
Camille sighed. “I want you to think about something.”
Shannen focused on her. “All right.”
“You began this because of vengeance. I understand that. You have every reason to hate Edwell. And many of us joined you for the same reason, for that thirst for vengeance. I still believe you can bring us that. But, Shannen… if you are going to win this, you need to think far beyond vengeance. You need to think, hard, about how you plan to lead us, and it cannot be something as simplistic as ‘I will be better than Edwell,’ because that means nothing. If you take this on, it is not just your life. All of our lives are tied to yours. Our health, our livelihood, the very Earth beneath our feet. Leadership is not for the weak, as we have seen all too well under his rule,” she said, nodding toward Edwell’s retreating back. With that, Camille stood up and headed back toward the others, leaving Shannen alone with her thoughts.
Amid everything else, one thought kept intruding: she missed her husband. She knew the weight of his crown weighed heavily on him, especially after the way he had gotten it. Even before he was king, Daarik had taken the responsibility of leading seriously, dutifully. She could use some of his insights.
She looked up at the sky, wishing that wherever he was, he was safe.
Just as she was getting ready to stand up and join her people, she heard a familiar buzzing sound and her gaze darted back up to the sky. Just as it had been outside of Ashwall, she had the briefest glimpse of something silvery and sinuous in the sky, and then it was gone.
A glance back at her people told her they had all seen it, as well.
Shannen cast one more look up at the sky and prayed again for her husband’s safety.
Chapter Four
Daarik had just entered his village when he saw the metallic glint overhead. It was too similar to the one he’d seen a few days past to be a coincidence or an accident.
It was headed west. Which was where most of his attention was of late. West, where his wife was.
He had just returned after another search for Jarvik and his traitors. They had killed four more of them, but Jarvik, true to his slimy ways, had stayed well away. Over the weeks since his father’s death and Shannen leaving, he’d hunted almost ceaselessly for the fool who, to his mind, at least, had brought Daarik’s world tumbling down. It wasn’t until this last trip that Daarik started thinking that he was wasting his time, that his people needed him among them, not out on some wild goose chase.
Those flashes overhead suggested nothing good. He knew his people were not the only ones in the universe, and, according to the few elders that remained, they had certainly not been the only ones with some interest in Earth and its resources.
“This has gone on long enough,” Daarik muttered to Janara, who stood beside him, also looking up at the sky.
“What has?” she asked.
“My wife being out there without me. I don’t care anymore how angry she might become with me. I don’t care if it looks like I’m overstepping. We might be running out of time,” he said, and Janara still looked at the sky.
“She’ll be infuriated if you interfere. And she did this for you, too. She was trying to give you time. Or do you forget how many among our own people disliked the bond you two had?”
“I don’t care,” he growled. He started walking again, but kept one eye on the sky. “Let them bring their grievances to me. I’m finished with this stupidity. I’ll find my wife. I’ll help her wrest her crown away from that soft imbecile, and then I’ll bring her back here where she belongs.”
Janara laughed. “Oh, sure. Because Shannen is so pliant and obedient. I’m sure she’ll take it all very well.”
“She can hate me all she wants. I wasn’t in my right mind after my father and Baerne.”
Janara was about to answer when one of the guards came running up to him.
“Daarik. There are humans heading this way.”
“No, sir. They have their banners out. They approach slowly. They are not trying to take us by surprise, it seems.”
Daarik reached the gates and watched as the human procession approached. Five men. At the head of the group was a large man with long hair and a closely-cropped beard. They wore the symbol of Edwell of Lyon.
His stomach plummeted. Had his wife been found out already? If they’d done a single thing to her—
“Easy, cousin,” Janara murmured, in her customary place at his side. “Don’t let them see you rattled. It will not help her any, if that is their point in visiting.”
Daarik took a breath and waved her and his men back, and then strode out the gate toward the humans. They stopped a few feet ahead of him, and the one leading, the one with the long hair and beard, vaulted off of his horse and approached Daarik, stopping a few feet away and dropping to a knee before him.
“Your Highness,” he said in a deep, rumbling voice. There was something odd about this human, something that seemed off, somehow, but Daarik couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Rise. What brings you to Darathar?” Daarik asked.
The human rose, and bowed his head respectfully to Daarik. “I come to speak about your wife, the Lady Shannen of House Lyon,” he said quietly. His voice dropped. “And yes, I know she is still your wife, despite the rumors to the contrary, which you two helped spread.”
“Who are you?” Daarik crossed his arms over his chest. He was aware of his people watching the scene play out from behind him.
“My name is Renn Kinari. I am a friend of Shannen’s.”
Daarik raised his eyebrow. “A friend?”
“Yes. And that’s why I’m here.”
Daarik said nothing, waiting for the human to go on. He was much bulkier than most humans he’d met. Somehow familiar. Had he met this human in battle?
“She came to see me, almost a fortnight ago,” the human said. “Seeking aid. Men. Troops,” he added.
“How was she?” Daarik asked. He had no desire to explain Maarlai mating marks to this human. The more of Shannen he could keep to himself, the better.
Kinari looked like he was thinking, and then he sighed. “Tired. Thin. Angry when I refused her.”
“And why, pray tell, did you do that, if you’re such a friend of hers?” Daarik demanded.
“Because my people will be punished if Edwell knows I’m helping her. I can’t just march at her side. And honestly, the few men I can offer her won’t be enough. She’s got an army of mostly women, and she thinks to overthrow a king,” Kinari said, rolling his dark eyes.
Daarik practically heard Janara tensing behind him. He suppressed a smile. “You assume an army of women is any less fearsome than an army of men. Do you know many women, Kinari?”
There were a few laughs behind him.
“They’re incapable of the kind of battle—”
“Many Maarlai females killed males of your kind on the battlefield,” Daarik interrupted.
“Even if they can fight, she doesn’t have the numbers—”
“And you think Shannen a fool, that she’ll just march into the city and hope for the best? You must not know her very well.”
The man turned red. With embarrassment or anger, Daarik couldn’t say.
“She’s after vengeance. That tends to blind even the best of us,” the man said.
“Well then it’s a good thing Shannen is better than the best of us,” Daarik said. “You should have given her your fighters, though. You may be a friend to her, but my wife is not the type to forget a slight like that.”
Kinari blew out a breath, and Daarik felt a bit sorry for him. He did not doubt that the man was here because he didn’t want Shannen to be hurt. He was a friend of hers. Daarik well knew about all of the male “friends” Shannen had had before they’d married. The fool was probably in love with her.
“Can I offer you and your men some rest and refreshment? It is a long ride to here from just about everywhere.”
Kinari did a poor job of hiding his surprise. “Yes, your Highness. Thank you.”
Daarik nodded and motioned for Kinari and his men to follow. If nothing else, he could get details about the meeting Kinari had had with his wife. He craved a better picture of how she was looking, what her army looked like, how she seemed to be holding up. He led Kinari into his hut while his men joined some of his own warriors, including Janara, for dinner. It was odd having so many humans in the village, and he noted the concern on many of his people’s faces as they’d walked through, but he knew the ones still living here would behave as they should. They would treat their guests with respect, even if they did not like or trust them.
And if Krinari’s men set even a toe out of line… well. They would be reminded once again of the might of the Maarlai people.
Daarik sat, and Renn sat across the simple wooden table. One of the cooks came in with a tray of food and drink, and Daarik murmured a thanks to him before the man bowed and stepped out.
“Should I have one of my men check mine for poison?” Kinari joked.
“If it would soothe you. You know you’re more likely to die of an ax to the head here than poison, I would think.”
Kinari nodded and tore off a chunk of the hearty brown bread the cook had left for them.
“So. How long were you Shannen’s friend?” Daarik asked.
Kinari froze.
“You don’t need to worry. I know she had many lovers… friends… before me.”
Kinari cleared his throat. “It doesn’t anger you?”
Daarik rolled his eyes. “Humans are so strange. What does it matter to me if she took men to her bed, or wherever, before I came into her life? Was she supposed to save herself for the chance that I might one day marry her?”
“Um. Yes?”
Daarik shook his head and rolled his eyes again.
“I mean, that’s what the — that’s what humans believe,” he said, and Daarik took note of the odd phrasing, as if he’d corrected himself.
“And yet you were more than happy to tumble her without marrying her,” Daarik said, taking a gulp of his ale.
“I did ask her to marry me.”
“Oh. You’re that one,” Daarik said.
“She mentioned me?”
“Not by name. Just that she’d been proposed to.” There was silence for a few moments while they both dug into their meals. “Did it hurt your ego so badly that she turned you down, that now, when she comes to you for help, you won’t give it?” Daarik asked.
“That’s not why I didn’t give it. As I said before, she’s in over her head, and I’ve done everything I can to protect the people of my region from the worst of Edwell’s idiocy. If I join her, and she loses, they lose all protection they once had. And more likely, they’ll be punished for my involvement.”
“You’re so sure she’ll lose.”
“I don’t see how she can win,” Kinari answered.
Daarik shook his head. “You really don’t know Shannen at all.”
“I know war, Your Highness. I know battle. You know battle, clearly. She doesn’t stand a chance.”
“It’s not always about the battle,” Daarik said, rubbing his chin. “Shannen is used to being underestimated. She’s either seen as a frivolous slut, or a daughter the low class, or a woman bent on revenge.”
“She is some of that. And before you plant an ax in my head, keep in mind that I care about her quite a lot,” he said, holding up his hands. “Some of those misconceptions, she brought on herself.”
Daarik nodded. “Of course she did.”
“Oh, please. As if she knew when she was riding stableboys that it led to something more important,” Kinari said as he bit into some spiced meat.
“Shannen knew that the more rebellious and frivolous she acted, the less anyone would look at anything that mattered. She played the spoiled princess, and she lived a whole
life that none of you bothered to see.”
Kinari narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
Daarik shrugged. “Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think.”
“Oh, and you do? You’ve known her all of, what? A few months?”
Daarik simply sat back and watched the human. Kinari, for his part, was becoming more restless, more ill at ease. “You have to go after her. She’s going to get herself killed,” Kinari said.
Daarik opened his mouth to respond as the door to his hut opened. He glanced up and saw his grandmother. She was about to say something to him when her gaze landed on Kinari. Her expression hardened immediately, and she reached for the sword at her waist.
Daarik jumped up to get between them, wondering what had angered his normally-calm grandmother. Faerlah continued looking around Daarik, not allowing him to block her view of his guest. And then, to Daarik’s shock and confusion, she started talking loudly at Kinari in a loud, hissing, clicking language Daarik had never heard. He stepped back, staring at his grandmother as she went on.
And then Kinari stood, holding his hands out in a calming gesture, and responded to Faerlah in the same language. Daarik looked between the two of them as they continued to shout in those odd hisses and clicks. Though he had no idea what was being said, it was clear that Faerlah was furious, which had Daarik reaching for his ax.
“Show him, Kinarian,” Faerlah finally said in the Maarlai language, and Daarik was about to say that the human wouldn’t understand. The words died on his lips as the dark-haired human seemed to shimmer and shift before his eyes. He grew even taller, bulkier. His skin became a dusky blue. Tusks sprouted from his jaw, and his eyes glowed in a way that made Daarik feel nauseous. He looked almost Maarlai-like, except for that blue skin and those bizarre glowing eyes.
“What the hell is this?” Daarik growled, holding his ax now at the ready.
Faerlah stayed quiet, but reached out and put a hand over Daarik’s, stopping him from attacking the… Kinarian, had she called him? Daarik waited, and Kinari held his hands out in a gesture of peace.
Riven (Exile Book 2) Page 5
