Dreamspinner Press Year Five Greatest Hits

by Tinnean

  Four

  THEY HAD been invited by Llyan Tapal, the daughter of the archlord, to spend the night at the villa with her and her governess before starting on for Tristan, the capital city, the following morning. Everyone had happily agreed.

  Seeing Llyan Tapal and his son strolling together made Torbald so happy he nearly wept with joy, so when Amelina asked for coin to purchase material in a nearby town for a dress, she was given the gold without question. She was also granted the company of Ehron’s consul, which was a treat for her and her mother—they had both asked for Daemon to join them—and a punishment for the servant.

  “Tried to drown me,” Ehron muttered under his breath. “Wretch.”

  “Did you say something, Ehron?” Llyan asked from where she stood, holding onto his arm.

  He grunted out the no and shoved Daemon forward after Amelina. Gareth wanted to go as well, but Torbald wanted him to stay and speak to Llyan’s cousins also in attendance at the villa, the nephews of the archlord. The more nobility who knew Gareth and remembered his name the better. Penn was allowed to trail after Daemon and called out to his friend that he should enjoy his visit. He was cackling as he left.

  Tamburin was a bustling town that Amelina, who had lived her entire life in the country, always adored visiting. As they rode through, turning again and again down narrower and narrower streets as each split from the previous one, Daemon began to feel a little claustrophobic. The buildings in the part of town that they were riding through were huge. Hotels and shops were everywhere, and the jostling mob of people seemed to soak up all the air. Daemon could barely breathe.

  When they finally arrived at the shop Odessa wanted to visit, Daemon ordered the soldiers who had accompanied them to keep guard outside, dismounting but remaining near their horses. He followed Penn inside, as Odessa and Amelina had already entered the tiny establishment. It was as Daemon had imagined it, barren but for all manner of fabric hanging from the walls and counters. Odessa called the proprietress from the back room by name, and they exchanged squealing greetings before going into each other’s arms and hugging warmly. The shop owner was astounded by Amelina’s beauty and continued to praise her even as Odessa told her to stop, as she was embarrassing her child.

  Daemon watched Odessa and Amelina pick out fabrics that were sheer and translucent, silk and velvet, thick and heavy with brocade, and finally several different kinds of furs. Daemon listened distractedly, wondering what it would be like to feel silk over his bare skin once more. It had been so long he had forgotten what it felt like.

  The seamstress was laughing hard over some comment Odessa had made when there was a fierce yell from outside. Both Daemon and Penn ran to the entrance of the shop in time to see a man running into the crowd with Penn’s broadsword raised high. All of Torbald’s soldiers were on their knees; no one went after the man. Their first duty was to the safety of the baroness and her daughter. To leave Odessa or Amelina would be to forfeit their lives.

  “Krishah!” Penn roared, starting after the man, toward the crowd, screaming out the curse of death, praying it would take.

  Daemon grabbed hold of his jacket and had just enough leverage to stop him. “Penn, are you mad? What would make you—”

  “Look at what it is,” he cried, pointing after the man. “I—I wanted to carry something… it’s not mine, Daemon; it’s Ehron’s. Look.”

  And it was. Daemon had not noticed it earlier, and normally he saw everything, but during the ride his thoughts were on Gareth Terhazien instead of on the task at hand. He had been lost in his plan to somehow sneak into Gareth’s room that evening and seduce the man and so had missed everything else around him. But now he saw clearly the jewels on the hilt glinting in the sun, the caress of the light over the curved blade—his prefect’s prize possession from Crosas. It could not be stolen.

  “I went to Ehron’s room and borrowed it,” Penn moaned, trying to twist free of Daemon’s grasp, trying to fly forward into the crowd. “I did not want to be rudely armed when all the soldiers had greater swords.”

  “All will be well. I will go!” Daemon yelled, leaping in front of him. “I will find it and return it to my lord. On my honor and my life, I will bring it back!”

  Penn froze suddenly, stopping himself before he slammed into the consul, and his eyes searched the darkness under the cowl.

  “I promise,” Daemon pleaded, his voice low and husky. “I will find it. I swear I will.”

  It took every drop of self-control that Penn had not to knock him aside and rush into the teeming mob of people. “Go, then!” he rasped, swallowing hard. “And know that if you find it not, I will be most displeased, and darkness will fall upon you.”

  He grunted. “I fear you not, Penn H’rah,” he assured him before turning and running headlong into the crowd and disappearing from sight.

  He knew Daemon Shar had no fear of him; he went out of duty to Ehron and nothing more. Smiling bitterly, Penn watched for him in the throng of people but saw nothing.

  “What has happened to Daemon?” Odessa cried, rushing up beside Penn, followed by Amelina.

  “He has gone to fetch that which these men could not protect,” he said scornfully, waving his hand toward Torbald’s soldiers to include them all. “If either Daemon or Ehron’s sword is not returned to me, I will have every one of their heads!”

  Odessa was terrified for both Daemon and her husband’s private guard. She was frightened of what Ehron’s reaction would be to the loss of his consul, and she was scared to death of her husband’s wrath. She was sorry that she had asked Daemon to come with her, because only Daemon would have insisted on going after Ehron’s cursed weapon. She was afraid of what Torbald would say, for had Daemon not taken responsibility for her and Amelina’s safety? And had Daemon not left without thought for them?

  It was a fast, anxious ride back to the villa, and immediately Torbald, Gareth, and Ehron were there asking questions of them. Where was Daemon?

  Penn explained to Torbald that he had taken responsibility for his wife and daughter, as Daemon had had no choice but to go after the sword. It was a matter of honor, after all. A man’s sword was his protection and his livelihood.

  “Of what sword are we speaking of?” Ehron asked harshly. “Daemon would not have left for… what sword?” His voice lowered as he stepped in close to Penn, towering over the smaller man.

  The tirade began soon after, and Llyan Tapal found the passion Ehron exhibited over the loss of his servant to be captivating. He made her breathless.

  Torbald was satisfied with the reason for Daemon’s departure, but Gareth was not. He raged at Penn until his friend stalked away, leaving before he could lose control and strike Torbald’s youngest son. Ehron wanted to know if Daemon had been armed. Odessa assured everyone that Ehron’s servant had been in possession of his carved baldric and sword. She hoped it was enough. Amelina described the town and the crowds and wondered aloud how Daemon would ever find the thief in the sea of people. Ehron told her that the point was that Daemon would never return without the sword. It was a matter of honor.

  “Why can we not return and find Daemon and the sword?” Amelina asked Torbald.

  “Mind that we must be at the capital in a cycle,” Torbald told her, thinking of how quickly a month would fly by as they traveled. “And now we make the journey with the daughter of the archlord. Even if we rode there now, we would just have to return by dawn to leave. We cannot seek for either Daemon or the sword.”

  There was no time, even if they knew where to begin the search. It was hopeless, and everyone knew it. The archlord would not understand absence from court for the sake of either Ehron’s second or his sword. Both were meaningless and replaceable to him. Cerus Tapal would accept no explanations for disrespect. The Baron of Kasan and his family were traveling with his daughter. They all needed to arrive together.

  That night, Gareth sat in Ehron’s room at the villa with him and listened to his brother talk about his second. He to
ld Gareth story after story of how Daemon had kept him sane and grounded, the tricks that would be played on him and the kindnesses that were bestowed daily.

  “He’s been talking about leaving.” Ehron sighed, looking out the window. “I wonder if he’ll use this opportunity to simply disappear.”

  The very idea sent a chill down Gareth’s back. “He wouldn’t leave without saying farewell to you. You’re friends, you and Daemon, not simply prefect and consul.”

  “We are, and that is why perhaps he would just leave, to spare us both the pain of the goodbye.”

  “Why would you ever be parted?”

  “I know not.” He sighed. “I had thought he would remain my consul and come with me from post to post wherever that might be from now to the end of my days.”

  “What says Daemon?”

  “He says that his… secret… would prevent that.”

  Gareth leaned forward. “Would you trust me with that, Ehron? Would you tell me what lies beneath the robe?”

  Ehron shook his head. “I know not.”

  “In ten seasons….” The idea was just ridiculous. Of course Ehron knew; he just didn’t want to break Daemon’s confidence. “I swear I would never—”

  “You think I’m being coy.” Ehron smiled at his brother. “Gareth,” he said, leaning forward, staring into the younger man’s eyes. “Truly, I know not. I have never been able to wrench the cowl away, twist it off him, or even accidentally throw him down and disrobe him. He’s faster than me, he never sleeps, and his eyes miss nothing. Truly, it’s like trying to sneak up on a cat. My guardian, the rat-catcher.”

  “Pardon?” Gareth asked. The words had been spoken so wistfully.

  Ehron took a breath, reclining once more. “The men of my legion gave him that name. They said that any man who could see in the dark, lead men through mazes with merely his nose, and find his way in and out of places with no doors or windows… aye, he’s a cat, a rat-catching cat.”

  Gareth understood that he was being told something dear and important. After a long moment of silence, he finally became aware of Ehron’s fixed regard. “Why do you stare at me so?”

  “Your admiration for the man… for my consul… grows. You want to bed him.”

  “I—no, I—”

  Ehron lifted his hand to stop the protesting. “I have been at war long seasons, Gareth. I know the difference between the lust that rides men in close quarters and the look of a deeper, softer persuasion. Your desire is to keep him…. You are not the first.”

  Gareth cleared his throat. “So his secret… it does not keep him from…. Does he… take lovers to his bed?” He needed to know because it was where he himself wanted to be, in bed with Daemon Shar.

  It was not a question that Ehron had ever thought to be asked by his brother. He studied Gareth’s face, and after a few moments, nodded the affirmative. “He does.”

  They lapsed into another long silence, Gareth wondering about Ehron’s answer, Ehron dredging his feelings to find the answer of how he felt about this latest development. His brother and his consul…. He had never imagined such a thing, but if Gareth’s feelings were returned, if Daemon bound his life to Gareth’s, to the house of Terhazien, that would please Ehron. As shield bearer, he could assure safety, prosperity, and to do that for Daemon, to give back even a quarter of what he had been granted, his heart swelled in his chest at the thought.

  “Have you spoken to Daemon of your intentions?”

  Gareth gave a quick shake of his head. “They were quickly coaxed from me but not easily voiced.”

  “I understand.”

  “I had not thought to speak to you of this.”

  Ehron shrugged. “All I understood before I went to war was consumed in ten seasons of blood and fire and death.” He breathed out. “I saw men I knew draw strength from one another and fight harder with more bravery because the one they loved stood beside them.”

  Gareth stared at his brother.

  “I know no better man than Daemon Shar,” Ehron told him. “If your heart desires him, then I can find no fault there.”

  “I had thought that I would be unseated from father’s regard by your return, but now I see that your course and mine do not conflict.”

  “Of course not,” Ehron told his brother. “You are a man of the land, Gareth Terhazien; I am a soldier. The land, the barony, will be yours.”

  Gareth caught his breath. “And if Daemon would stand at my side….”

  “Then I would protect you with all the weight of my coming office,” Ehron promised him. “For truly, how could Ram deny me?”

  “All would seem blessed but for our missing man.”

  “And if that man would not be found,” Ehron smiled ruefully, “then you will not even catch his tail.”

  The look on his brother’s face let Ehron understand how deep the feelings for his consul truly ran. Gareth had stumbled hard.

  “You must remember that he is a stray, and a stray has no home until he claims one. He has to make a stand and decide, and he never has.”

  “Perhaps he has never wanted to.”

  Ehron shrugged. “This is not for me to say. I will tell you this: if Daemon decides that he wants you as greatly as you desire him… I pity the man who would try and part him from you. I have seen the heat of his hatred as well as felt the weight of his love. You would be blessed to call the stray your own, Gareth. Truly blessed.”

  Gareth took a trembling breath. All he wanted was for Daemon to return.

  Ehron knew that if Daemon did not want to be found, that he could be easily lost. The entire state of Rieyn was far too big to seek and find a single man. The consul was gone, and there was no way to track him down or bring him back unless he came on his own. It was a waste of time even to try.

  They left for Tristan the following morning. Torbald had no choice. There was no sign of Daemon, and no one had really expected one. As days sloughed on into weeks, Torbald watched Ehron’s mounting irritation with everyone around him, Amelina’s lack of appetite, Gareth’s frustration, Odessa’s depression, and Penn’s growing apprehension as they moved closer to the capital. It was heartwarming to see Llyan try and rally Ehron and his sincere appreciation for her pains. Ehron’s sadness over the loss of his companion was absolutely enthralling to Llyan, and Odessa secretly wondered if this too was not part of Daemon Shar’s plan in some way. To show a man vulnerable was irresistible to a woman, and Llyan found herself ensnared completely in Ehron Terhazien’s web.

  She fell into his eyes, his arms, and secretly, after a month, into his bed as well. When he told her he was going to ask for her hand the minute they reached her father, she wept with joy. When he pressed her to his heart, she understood that love was not like she had read in books or heard the court poets recite but was so much sweeter and darker. For living without the man in whose arms she now slept was not even a possibility for her.

  Daily, Torbald ordered the camp moved, and each morning he cast his eyes back down the road they had come, searching hopelessly for a man wrapped in black, wondering even as he did it why he so cared. Why they all cared so very deeply.

  Five

  IT WAS an uneventful trek toward the capital without the humor and ease that had pervaded the early part of the long journey. A day outside of Tristan, with everyone anxious to rest and bring to an end the increasing tension and sadness, all was changed.

  Gareth saw Daemon first because he was the only one still searching the horizon with his eyes. He rose slowly from the table where he and his family were having their evening meal. Like some phantom, the familiar shape was suddenly within reach. Daemon had returned to him.

  “Gareth,” Odessa said softly, tentatively reaching for her son.

  “By the gods,” Penn breathed, awestruck, watching Daemon limp across the torch-lined meadow toward the eating tables. The walk was not healthy but instead jerky and broken. “He has returned.”

  “Daemon,” Torbald spoke the name reverently. “Daemo
n….”

  Every step was agony on the swollen ankle, re-injured daily by the hiking that had to be endured. He stopped suddenly, bent over, and put his hands on his knees. Breathing deeply, he tried again to will the pain away.

  Amelina gasped, and before Torbald could reach out and grab her, keep her from flying to Daemon so that Ehron, who had noticed his consul soon after Gareth, could go first, she was on her feet. Amelina dashed around the table, long, full skirts balled up in her fists, and ran across the meadow to meet the servant. Daemon straightened and let out a deep sigh before putting his hands on the small of his back. He stretched the long muscles, leaning back, twisting to dislodge the tension and cramping that accompanied strenuous hiking on one good leg. Looking toward the encampment, he saw Amelina running toward him. Ehron saw the shake of the head, even from a distance, achingly familiar as well as the hand raised in greeting.

  “He bears it!” Penn roared from behind the Terhazien clan, startling them all. “By the gods, he bears it!”

  They all saw it then, the twin scabbards on his back.

  Amelina was almost to Daemon when Penn passed her in a blur of speed. Overjoyed, overwrought, saved from disappointing Ehron, Penn could have wept with joy.

  Even though Daemon braced himself for the tackle, preparing did nothing to lessen the ferocity of it. When Penn reached the consul, he threw his arms around Daemon, spun him around off his feet in the air, and crushed him against him hard. It was so hard in fact that the thought washed through Daemon’s mind that perhaps Penn had broken a rib. In his enthusiasm, Penn pounded on his back with his fist while Amelina tried unsuccessfully to pry him away. She wanted to be the one drowning in Daemon Shar.

  “Release him, Penn, at once!” she almost screamed at her brother’s friend, furious with being kept from what she wanted.