Dark Spirits

by R. J. Price

  Only to have it all go to shit at the last moment.

  She stiffened her back and formed her resolve as she marched past the handmaid who didn't even bother lowering her head in respect. Para went immediately for the fire where Aren was standing in full formal dress.

  A purple so solid and dark that no dye-master could have possibly made it. The fabric must have been wrought from magic itself. It sparkled just slightly as Aren turned towards Para.

  “How dare you insult your own mother?” Para said, coming within a foot of Aren.

  “Lady Para, please sit.” Aren motioned to the seat behind Para.

  “Don't you talk to me like that,” Para said, shaking a finger at Aren. “I raised you with manners. I haven't the faintest idea where this attitude of yours came from, but you do not win over the court by outing your own family.”

  “How is your mate?” Aren asked.

  These were the questions of the throne to a woman. Para's heart fluttered in her chest, fear beginning to bloom. She had no idea what Aren was implying. Though that wasn't entirely true, Para had an idea but no idea why Aren would turn her back on her mother then of all times. They were so close to taking all the lands. So close to ruling everything.

  Para chose to reinsert herself into Aren's life by saying, “Your father is fine.”

  “My father is dead,” Aren said.

  “No, he's not. That's like saying your mother is dead.”

  “My mother is also dead,” Aren said. “All know that the Argnern line, within palace lands, dies with myself and possibly my sister, depending on her choice of mate. I am Lady Aren Argnern, she is Lady Anue Argnern, by relation to the throne, of course.”

  She forced herself to swallow her fear. “And what does that make me?”

  “Lady Para Bilgern, of the Bilgern Vineyard,” Aren said. “What else would you be? Mated to Lord Cerlot Bilgern, who inherited from his great-uncle upon the man's death. You have one son, who is a crafted wine maker but you will send him to this palace for finishing as a ward of the throne.”

  “Males are not wards of the throne,” Para protested.

  “So help me, Para, if you do not send him here for finishing, I will burn your vineyard to the ground,” Aren said, her hands clasping before her.

  It was such a Telm move, something that Para expected from the head of house. Before her stood a queen, but even a queen could be controlled. Aren was her daughter and she could be leashed.

  Yet as Para considered the idea, she saw Aren's resolve. The queen would not budge, she would not move, no amount of bartering or screaming would change her mind.

  Someone had poisoned her own daughter against her.

  “On your estate, you had a dimwit. He sleeps in the barn and is of absolutely no use to you,” Aren said. “You will send for him and he will come to the palace here, where we have a place for a dimwit.”

  “What use is he to you? Dimwits are nothing.”

  “Your vineyard to the ground,” Aren said sternly. “How else could I say this? I could threaten to present your mate's penis to you on a silver platter, but I've seen enough of that organ for an entire lifetime.”

  Para went still. She watched Aren for any sign of movement, yet the girl's body seemed to imply that she was telling the truth. If Cerlot had done something stupid, damaged a queen?

  If Av caught wind of that little rumour?

  “You were virgin the day you came to the palace,” Para snapped at Aren, refusing to rise to the bait.

  “A woman might be virgin, yet not,” Aren said in calm response. “If Cerlot ever sets foot on palace grounds again, I will make his desires well known. Or did you think there wasn't a connection between you losing your youthful looks and his visits to your bed?”

  Para's mouth dropped open. “How dare you!”

  “Please, you were once a rival to the beauty of court, and you held on to your youthful looks until recently. The past few years you've aged greatly.”

  “I will not stand here while you tear apart my family,” Para said.

  “Of course, Lady Bilgern, by all means.” Aren motioned to the door and smiled at her.

  “I am an Argnern,” Para shouted at Aren. “I am not a Bilgern, I am not birthed to that line, I did not submit to that line. I am good, strong, coastal blood—not some inbred palace bitch.”

  “From the coast or palace lands, you are still an inbred bitch,” Aren said, almost muttering the words under her breath before she frowned and seemed to realize what she had said. “I apologize Lady Para. I travelled a great way today and, when tired, I say things that are hardly appropriate. But I washed, ate, saw to my needs, and was told that you desired an immediate audience with me. I know the hour is late, but how could I deny the request of a lady at court? What was it that you wished to see of me?”

  Suddenly back to niceties. Para opened her mouth to speak, but there was a knock at the door. Both women turned to the door as the servant opened it. Av walked into the room. The warrior’s eyes roamed over the room, focusing for a moment on Aren, then settling on Para. His mind was made up. Whatever he thought before, Av would tear Para limb from limb if she questioned Aren.

  Drawing in a small breath, Para turned back to Aren. “I came to enquire as to the well-being of Anue.”

  “To the well-being of Lady Anue Argnern?” Aren asked calmly.

  “Yes, to her well-being. I was told she was spending the winter with you and Av and his blood.”

  “A just reason to demand an audience, looking after my family,” Aren said with a smile that was almost genuine. “I appreciate that commoners would look after my family, even from myself. Lord Av, please, tell Lady Para Bilgern what the state of my sister is, as a warrior who swore to Lady Para you were going to protect Lady Anue.”

  “Lady Anue...” Av said, trailing off.

  “Lady Anue Argnern,” Aren said.

  “Oh, yes, of course, I swore to protect your sister,” Av said. “I'm sorry, I thought I knew of another Anue. Yes. Anue read and did numbers, and my father taught her about ranks, most especially because my younger brother, Mie, is a warrior. He is blooming and needs to know about himself. It's a perfect way to teach others about the rank at the same time.

  “She slipped on the ice in the middle of winter. I was trying to teach the children to ice skate and she slipped and fell, unfortunately. Aren nearly took my head off for it because she thinks skating is like dancing with knives on your feet and while Anue is graceful in dancing, doing so on knives is insanity. At least by her words.

  “At the winter solstice, Anue and Mie were both taught about the holiday and Anue mentioned that Aren does a little-known queen tradition, which was interesting. Anue was very upset that Aren wouldn’t take her with her. Uhm, that Aren wasn't there to take Anue with her, on this secretive female tradition.”

  Av turned his full attention to Aren. “Of which there is a male tradition, Lady, which I don't think you know of.”

  Why would he say a thing like that?

  “My father explained of the tradition after Aren returned,” Av said to Para. “Because Aren ran off without Anue, upset her quite a bit. I wanted to chase her but, well… have you ever seen that woman run?”

  Purred out like a man who had yet to capture what he wanted. Av smiled all too knowingly and looked Aren up and down before shifting his look, altering it to annoyance, to Para.

  “Next year I'm going to chase her and have her,” Av said to Para. “Hopefully breed her, if she will permit my blood to mingle with hers.”

  Which was a jab at Para and her initial attempt to woo Av, years before Aren was even born. He was old enough to be Aren's father, yet neither seemed to care.

  “Who will be your head of house?” Para said to Aren, grasping at straws. “Your steward? Who will give you away at your mating ceremony?”

  “Telm will be head of house, Jer will be my steward,” Aren said before turning to Av. “What does happen when a queen has no mother or father to g
ive her away?”

  “Jer adopted you before the court as brother, so he could stand as your blood,” Av said. He focused on Para. “A queen is never given away. She is not some object to be passed around to the highest bidder. Jer will offer Aren to her mate and should that man fail, and should the queen who stands at Aren's side fail, Jer will splatter that man's blood across the palace.”

  “Aren't you intending to mate her?” Para demanded.

  “I am,” Av said with a small smile.

  “How is Jer to take you down?” Para asked. “With what, his thoughts? Who will protect Aren? If her mother were alive, why would she want her daughter protected by the lesser brother?”

  “But Jer has the backing of all the north,” Aren said quietly.

  Av smiled openly. “What Lady Aren means is that while Jer and I are both related to the baron of the north, they will back whoever is standing for the victim. If Jer's chosen were in danger and I were not able to stand for the other, those of the north would stand to my back. The same is true for Aren.”

  “But they are your family, not hers.”

  “That is the point, Lady Para, they are my family,” Av said. “It is my bloodline that will be tarnished if I rape and murder a queen, not hers. It is the Marilton name that would suffer a blow that could not be repaired, if word became public that one of us caused something as terrible as rape, conceived a child, and then was murdered for that action.

  “If I were to ever hurt Aren, I would die. Simple as that.”

  “I should go,” Para said, feeling as if she were suffocating.

  At this point it was any excuse to flee before one of them turned on her.

  “Of course, Lady Para Bilgern,” Aren said kindly. “Say hello to your mate, and pass on my message.”

  The one that said that if Cerlot ever stepped foot on palace lands again, Aren would tell Av what had been done. Para glanced at Av, who had a slight frown. The man was obviously wondering what this special message was. He would notice the change of bloodline, but whether he would say something, would be another matter. Would he assume that the secretive missive to Cerlot was simply Bilgern returning to the vineyard, or would he press and question what Aren meant?

  Chapter Forty-One

  Av knew he was in trouble before walking into the queen's rooms. Para was there, having some sort of twisted audience with Aren. He participated because he sensed the danger coming off of Aren. Whatever was going on, Para wasn't participating as she should have and Aren had let him into the room in order to control the older woman.

  When Para left, Av allowed her to go, and met the eyes of his queen. Aren was furious, her emotions brewing under a mask of indifference. Av feared because he had never seen this side of Aren before. She felt and she showed her emotions even while she put on the mask of calm that commoners expected. Her time in the chamber had changed her. Her time with Danya changed her.

  “You commanded, I came,” Av said.

  The old rules, he had to recall them as best he could. He remembered watching his parents go through motions that he thought were strange.

  Until his mother was taken by the throne, his father had commanded the house. Afterwards his father still commanded the house, but his mother ruled the public life. When she looked at her mate in just such a way, the trainer submitted.

  “I did,” Aren said. “Lady Para will be returning to her vineyard. From there she will send a dimwit who lives on the land. They have no use for the boy but, here at the palace, we will find him a place. The healers here are more able to help his sort of problems.”

  “Do you wish to see the boy when he arrives?” Av asked.

  “He's fifteen—hardly a boy but not yet a man,” Aren said.

  Aren's brother. Av knew that and yet he had no idea what he would do with the boy. He knew that he would protect the boy with his life, because it was what Aren wanted, but he was also concerned that his reaction to a dimwit would not be what Aren hoped. How could he promise to provide companionship to a creature that he wasn't certain he could stand to be around?

  “Do you wish to see the boy when he arrives?” Av asked once more. She hadn't answered the question the first time—why hadn't she answered the question?

  “No,” Aren said, facing the fire for a moment to poke at it with the iron stick before she turned back to Av. “No. I want all records to tell everyone that this dimwit was sent from the vineyard for the special care of the healers. His name is Bilgern, mine is Argnern. No one is ever to link us. Ever. Do you understand me, Av?”

  “I understand the command, but not the why,” Av said.

  Aren had spoken of her brother before. She had said more of this brother than she had of the one who could speak full sentences. Why bring him to court only to push him into the shadows?

  “Because he is a dimwit,” Aren said. “Anue can protect herself, so can you. Any children we have would have the common sense to run for an adult, or the palace would protect them. He is blood, but he is not fast enough to understand friend from enemy.”

  “He's never to know you are here,” Av said.

  “Anue is not to know he is here either,” Aren said. “I know I can keep my distance, but I do not know about my sister.”

  Protected and yet close at hand. Av wondered how much it hurt Aren to have to tell that to him. He knew, on some level, that he would have to stop Aren from contacting her brother. It would be easy to prevent Anue from knowing her brother was at court. Aren would know, and she would attempt to resist but some days would be more difficult than others.

  “There are other places he can go,” Av said. “Places which might be better able to care for him. The palace is about to go through a change. Change always means pain. Pain means disaster, especially for those who are dimwits, out of it, or drooling husks.”

  “I want my brother here,” Aren said.

  “I'm just saying it would be prudent to—”

  “Here!” Aren shouted at him. “Not elsewhere, not tucked away somewhere as if he's a mark on my bloodline! It's not his fault he is the way he is, so you don't get to tell me to hide him in the shadows. The only reason I move him about is to keep him safe!”

  “I never said he was a mark on your bloodline,” Av said quietly.

  “As you said, changes will be coming to the court,” Aren said.

  She took one of the seats before the hearth. Relaxing slightly, she looked up at Av and motioned to the other seat. Because he knew he needed to ease the tension in his body, Av sat.

  He had been disturbed for days over the murder he had committed. Upon arriving at the palace, he had been hoping to be able to speak to his father about the event but instead he had spent his time in the healer's hall, setting a proper example for the new lady.

  Or so the healers said.

  “What are these changes?” Av asked.

  “Lady Para and Lord Cerlot Bilgern will stay on their vineyard,” Aren said. “They will send their son to court for finishing. My sister will remain here with me, as she is Argnern.”

  “I understand that much,” Av said.

  “Court is calling in a few days, possibly tomorrow,” Aren said.

  “Three days at least, you need sleep,” Av countered.

  “Fine,” Aren said. “Three days. I will quell gossip mongering. You, Av, as your position, will help me. Same gender is allowed, anyone who says otherwise will be stabbed by you. If you fail, I will strip their skin from their flesh, roll them across the training yard and then start at their feet and work my way up. Do I make myself clear?”

  Av swallowed the bile that attempted to rise in his throat. “Perfectly.”

  “The barons are coming. Telm is not up to task. You will take over her duties and care for their rooms. They come for my mating ceremony. Every due care must be made to ensure their comfort. Whatever they could need. They are also bringing their mates, which to my understanding means they are bringing three queens with them.”

  “They are, an
d I may have invited another from a little fugitive camp,” Av said, wincing as Aren shot him a scathing look. “I know, but I thought you and she were paired well. You'll get along well.”

  “The wards must be brought to hand. I expect your support in this,” Aren continued on, not commenting on what Av had said. “I expect you to take them to hand. Train them until they are too tired to whine. If they have time to gossip, you are not working them hard enough. Am I understood?”

  “You are, yes,” Av said.

  “Good. When the barons arrive, I will mate. Put this nonsense down once and for all. And Mar, once she arrives, will stand as my queen after all.”

  “Of course,” he said, noting that Aren hadn't mentioned who she would be mating. His heart broke just a little bit as he watched her stare into the fire, seemingly caught in thought.

  “From this point forward,” Aren said to the fire before she turned to Av, “no man is to be alone with me. Is that clear, Lord Av? Mated or not, I am not to be alone with a man, not for any reason. Not because he's sneaking a kiss or because he thinks he's above the rules.”

  “From this point?” Av said. “Should I leave?”

  “I'm not done with you,” Aren snarled.

  “I was just asking,” he murmured. “I would hate to upset you before you are mated.”

  He was hoping for something—anything at all—from Aren assuring him of what he had waited for all winter. Av drew in a breath as Aren breathed out.

  “Have you heard of ‘right to rest’?” Aren asked.

  “No,” Av said quietly.

  “It is claimed for another, usually a rank. Likely always for a queen. I want to claim this for Telm, who is being a stupid poop-pants.”

  “Did you just call your head of house a...” Av trailed off when Aren shot him another scathing look. “Fair enough. I'm guessing it's straightforward, meaning she has to rest and the ranks, I'm guessing, make certain she does rest?”

  “That's about the gist of it,” Aren said. “She is on her way here for me to have this conversation with her. After that, all lines are cut.”