Searching the Darkness (Erythleh Chronicles Book 2)

by Catherine Johnson

  "You're here. Good. Thank you for being on time."

  "I would not see you embarrassed."

  "Thank you. And thank you for tidying yourself up." His mother ran her fingers through his hair to neaten it in a habitual gesture that she had only given up when he had become too tall for her to reach his head. "She really is a pleasant young girl. Very nervous, of course." Gorren could tell from his mother's unusually fast pace of speech that she, too, was tense. "We're dispensing with most of the formalities tonight. I won't have the poor thing be forced to enter a room full of goggling strangers by herself. I will escort her down. Your father and brother should be here soon to take their seats. Elthrinn will sit by you."

  Gorren's stomach turned with nerves. He had only to sit next to the girl and be polite, and it was by no means the most dangerous situation that he had ever been in, but he was more than aware that this introduction would cast its shadow over the rest of his life. He scowled when he realised it was the first time he'd heard his prospective bride's name. "Elthrinn?"

  "Yes, Elthrinn." His mother tilted her head and looked at him. "A pretty name for a pretty girl."

  Gorren wanted to ask his mother more about her opinions of the girl, but they were interrupted by the arrival of his father and brother. They took their seats, leaving two empty places between them and Gorren. It appeared that Elthrinn was to be trapped between him and his mother. He wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not. He knew it left him without any other opportunity for conversation than to talk to his intended.

  His mother smiled tightly and disappeared back through the crowd that had grown substantially. Dechard worked his magic, and soon all the guests were seated. The rumble of conversation continued until, at some signal that Gorren had not seen, an expectant hush fell.

  Chapter Nine

  Elthrinn had been in such a complete slumber that she hadn't awakened when Rehan had knocked, or when Rehan had let herself into the room. It was only when Rehan shook her shoulder that she emerged from her unconscious state. She awoke with a start, frightened to find someone touching her when her mind presented enough information to remind her that she was in a strange bed in a strange building in a strange country.

  "Sshhh," Rehan soothed. "Sorry, my dear, but you were fast asleep. It's almost time."

  On hearing those few words, Elthrinn came fully awake.

  "How long did I sleep?"

  "Quite some time. It's dark outside."

  "Am I late?"

  "No dear, I wouldn't let that happen. But you don't have time to dwell on it."

  Rehan smoothed her palm over Elthrinn's head, and Elthrinn realised that she hadn't brushed her hair before falling asleep. It had dried against the sheets, but it was a snarled mess.

  Rehan walked over to one of the chests of drawers, searched through them, and returned with a brush made of polished wood inlaid with silver. It was a beautiful piece, and Elthrinn wondered who it had belonged to before it had made its way into that drawer.

  "Here, let me brush your hair out for you."

  Not wishing to cause any offense, and possibly anger the person who was showing her so much kindness and consideration, Elthrinn moved to sit at the edge of the bed. Rehan sat behind her and began to work the brush through her tangles with smooth strokes.

  "Do the clothes fit well?" Rehan asked.

  "Yes. You guessed well."

  "Good. I'm glad they're comfortable."

  "It wasn't what I was expecting. I mean," Elthrinn clarified, "They're not like the dress you're wearing."

  Rehan had changed since she'd left Elthrinn; the dress was still the shade of oak leaves in spring, but now it was one made of shimmering silk.

  "I'm a little old-fashioned in my tastes, and as I said, I want you to be as comfortable as possible. I don't want you to feel trussed up like a partridge on a spit."

  "I think I feel a little like that anyway," Elthrinn said honestly.

  "There's no avoiding it, I'm afraid. But I think this will be the only event like this, until your wedding, of course."

  The mention of her wedding sent an icy chill through Elthrinn, shredding every comfortable feeling that she'd been experiencing. She'd been basking a little in the feeling of being mothered as Rehan had groomed her. The reminder that her future had been dictated at someone else's whim brought forward the knowledge that nothing good ever lasted. She couldn't rely on Rehan's continued attention. She would be thankful for it tonight, this gathering was more than she could manage on her own, but in the morning she'd start standing on her own two feet. Elthrinn determined that by the date of her wedding, she would not need this comfort and companionship.

  "There. That's better. You have beautiful hair, my dear."

  The bed shifted as Rehan rose. She found a mirror with a handle, that looked to be a matched set with the brush, and handed it to Elthrinn. Nothing about her reflection looked so very out of the ordinary to her, but she could see that her hair was now laid out in a silken sheet across her shoulders.

  "Thank you for your help."

  "It's my pleasure," Rehan said as she took the brush and mirror and returned them to their rightful places. "I always wanted a daughter. But I don't think it was meant to be."

  Rehan looked sad and wistful. Elthrinn felt the need to distract her. "Will you tell me about your family?"

  "There isn't much to tell," Rehan sighed, but Elthrinn could tell that she was lying from the way that her eyes suddenly shifted. "We are a small family for this country: myself, my husband, Dorll, my eldest son, Noridan, and my youngest son, Gorren."

  "Can you tell me more about him?" Elthrinn asked.

  "I would, but we don't have the time, dear."

  Elthrinn rose. She could at least be genteel in her acceptance of her fate. Obstinacy would win her no friends. Once in the corridor, Rehan turned to lock the door behind them, but this time, when she had finished, she unhooked the key from the ring and gave it to Elthrinn.

  "This is the only key, apart from the master key to all the rooms, which is also in my possession," Rehan said as she pressed the twist of iron into Elthrinn's palm. "I would ask that you stay until the meal is over, but should you wish to retire early, you have your sanctuary."

  "Thank you." Elthrinn felt the tremble of her nerves in her voice. She tucked the key safely into one of the pockets of her trews.

  Rehan hooked Elthrinn's hand over the crook of her elbow, as she had when she'd guided her to her room, and began to lead her to the hall. As they walked, Rehan pointed out certain landmarks, carvings, windows, particularly ornate doors, so that Elthrinn could find her way back to her room on her own.

  Much too soon for Elthrinn's comfort, they came to the corridor that led to the great hall. The tunnel, although well lit, appeared to be all shadows in contrast with the bright light at the other end of it. Even before she reached the doorway, Elthrinn could tell that all the sconces were fully ablaze, along with the fire pits. She could smell the cooking meats that were hung on spits over the pits. More subtle odours, almost lost in the richness of the smell of roasting, puffed into the air along with the steam from the various pots. She had eaten well before her nap, and her nerves were trying to quell her appetite, but her stomach still took notice of the offerings.

  As they walked ever closer to the doorway, Elthrinn's heart felt as though it might simply stop. When she caught site of the crowds packed into the room, her steps faltered and she stumbled. She thanked the gods that she was still mostly out of sight.

  "Be strong, my dear. They won't bite," Rehan murmured at her ear before propelling her forward again. Elthrinn bit down on the urge to giggle at the joke, at least, she thought it was a joke.

  The room was full of more people than she could count. They were all sat neatly at the tables and the floor was mostly clear, but it still felt crowded. Elthrinn tried not to squint in the brighter light, and tried to keep her chin up in a an effort to appear confident and at ease. She couldn't take in much mor
e, because Rehan was guiding her over to the long table that marked the head of the room. They paused in front of it. Elthrinn fought the urge to take a step back when she looked at the dour-faced, grey-haired man who was seated behind it and who was scowling at her. His silver beard made him seem more animalistic than she had expected after associating with Rehan.

  "This is my husband, Gorren's father, King Dorll."

  Elthrinn only just caught Rehan's murmured introduction.

  "Your majesty." Elthrinn bobbed an attempt at a curtsey. Given the democratic nature of Felthiss and her tenure in the temple, she was unused to such formalities.

  The king nodded curtly, once, but his features did not relax. Elthrinn hoped to the gods that she hadn't offended him.

  "And this is our first son, Prince Noridan."

  Elthrinn bobbed again, not knowing how to address the prince, by name or by title. This man, who did not seem to be much older than Serwren or Erkas, was clean shaven, his dark hair was swept back from his face. His eyes appeared to be naturally narrow, and his thin lips were curved into a satisfied smile that Elthrinn did not like. It reminded her of the uncomfortable feeling of being the focus of one of Erkas' smiles.

  Noridan nodded once as Rehan pulled slightly on Elthrinn's arm. Elthrinn obediently followed the queen, relieved to be away from the scrutiny of the king and the prince.

  "This is my son, Gorren."

  Rehan introduced the dark-haired man seated at the other end of the table to his brother. Elthrinn was unsure whether to curtsey or not. He was a prince, after all, but if she was to be his wife, she didn't intend to acknowledge him in such a fashion every day thereafter. She tried to smile, but her nerves had too firm a grip on her lips to allow them to move in the required way. She felt frozen to the spot.

  The man before her was leaner than his brother and father, and had long hair that hung loose to his shoulders, and a full, thick beard. All the hair had the effect of virtually hiding his face from her and making his expression inscrutable. She had no idea whether his eyes could give his emotions away, presently being shaded by heavy dark brows that were drawn low, she could tell only that they were dark, and looking intently at her.

  Before she could stutter a greeting, Rehan gave a little tug, and guided her around the end of the table. The steward she had seen earlier, and whose name she could not remember, was standing behind one of the empty chairs, the one next to Gorren. He pulled it out as they neared, and Rehan pushed Elthrinn towards it with a gentle nudge in the small of her back. Elthrinn squeezed between the chair and the table. As she sat, the steward pushed the chair so that it caught the back of her knees. Elthrinn felt that she had almost fallen into the seat, but there was no laughter rippling around the room. Either it hadn't looked as embarrassing as it had felt, or the crowd before her were incredibly polite. The steward repeated the motion for Rehan. Elthrinn noted the gracefulness with which the queen accommodated the gesture. She would have to take care to try to replicate that, although she guessed it would become easier with practice.

  Although the chairs, heavy wooden things with high backs, had scrolled arms, Rehan reached across and patted Elthrinn's knee once they were both comfortable. Or in Elthrinn's case, as comfortable as she was likely to get.

  Every face in the room was turned towards them, every pair of eyes was fixed in their direction. Elthrinn's overwhelming impression, other than the warmth of Rehan at her side, was that she was not wanted here. The king had not been at all welcoming of a new daughter-in-law, Noridan had appeared predatory, and Gorren was completely silent. Only a sense of duty to Rehan, and a miniscule amount of pride, kept Elthrinn from shoving her chair back and running from the room.

  There was an uncomfortable pause. Elthrinn saw Rehan look at her husband. The king cleared his throat.

  "Tonight we welcome Elthrinn, daughter of Felthiss, intended bride to Prince Gorren."

  The applause that followed the grudging announcement seemed to Elthrinn to be polite rather than enthusiastic. She wondered just what sort of awkward family dynamic she had been thrust into.

  Rehan turned back to the room, and clapped so sharply that Elthrinn almost jumped out of her seat, but it appeared to be the signal to start the feast. Servers rushed forward to begin to carve the meats, and to bring large plates over to the tables. Their table was first to be served; the king took first choice from the platter presented to him, then Noridan, then the queen. Elthrinn watched, looking for clues as to how to behave. Before she knew it, the now half-empty platter was in front of her and Gorren. Elthrinn's muscles were taught with nerves. She was suppressing the need to tremble so hard that she didn't think she'd be able to pick up the utensils that were lying on the platter, to transfer any meat to her plate, without causing everything to clatter to the floor.

  "Here." The gruff voice at her side made her turn. Gorren reached forward and added slices of meat to both their plates, hers first. When he laid the two large forks back in their place, the server bowed and moved on.

  Other servers came by the table with platters and dishes and bowls. Gorren added to her plate with portions from each of them. Elthrinn watched, glad beyond measure to see that everything looked to be something that she recognised. Given that this meal was an official event, it seemed that the people of Dorvek, or Cranak at least, preferred uncomplicated cuisine. There were several kinds of meats, all roasted, and vegetables that had been prepared in different ways, but which were mostly identifiable.

  "Thank you." Elthrinn had to try twice to force her voice above a whisper.

  At first, she didn't think that Gorren would respond. He was looking out across the room, but he turned to her and spoke, his voice low, for her ears only. She was glad that he didn't try to make every aspect of their first meeting into a public exhibition.

  "It's pointless telling you to relax and enjoy yourself, but you should try to eat."

  Elthrinn thought she saw kindness in his eyes, the only marked resemblance between Gorren and his mother.

  "I'm not sure that I can." Her stomach appreciated the aromas, but that didn't mean she would be able to eat all the food piled in front of her. Her throat constricted at the thought of swallowing anything.

  "Can you drink?"

  Gorren filled a goblet from a jug that had been placed on the table between them. Elthrinn saw that it looked to be the same wine that she'd enjoyed with her previous meal. When Gorren handed her the goblet, Elthrinn reached for it slowly, making sure that her hand was reasonably steady before she took it. She didn't want to knock it and spill wine over the both of them. She managed to get hold of it well enough and took a small sip, then another small sip. The warmth of the alcohol greatly reduced her need to flee, if not her desire.

  "There, that's better."

  If Elthrinn wasn't much mistaken, Gorren was smiling. He was definitely his mother's son. She managed to place the goblet safely on the table, and began an attempt to sample some of the food on her plate. It was good, well-cooked and tasty, but she felt acutely that she was being watched by everyone in the room, even if they were not looking directly at her. Feeling as though her every action was being judged prevented her from properly enjoying the feast.

  Elthrinn took another sip of wine, and decided that she should try and make conversation. Gorren was evidently more comfortable with being at the head of the room than she was; his plate was almost empty.

  "Please tell me that there won't be dancing or any such foolery," Elthrinn said quietly.

  Gorren laughed as he took a sip of wine. "No, thankfully."

  Elthrinn felt the beginnings of a smile. "Do you dance?"

  "I can, but not here if I can help it," Gorren murmured conspiratorially. Elthrinn suspected that his answer had more to do with the feeling of disconnect in his family that she had sensed, rather than an actual dislike for the location.

  "Do you?"

  It took Elthrinn a moment to comprehend that Gorren was turning her question back to her.

/>   "I haven't in a very long time."

  "Do they not dance in Felthiss?"

  "They do, but I haven't been to any sort of celebration in...," Elthrinn had to search her memories, the last time she had seen people dancing had been the Twelfth Moon celebrations in Senthirr, "...more than three years."

  Gorren appeared to be honestly shocked. Elthrinn could tell he wanted to ask, but was probably searching for a polite way to word his question. It was apparent that he knew as little about her as she did about him.

  "I was a priestess in a temple dedicated to the goddess Doohr for almost three years, before Erkas, the First Father of Felthiss, informed me that I had to come here to marry you."

  Gorren's expression turned serious. "Mother was right, then. You were offered as much choice in this as I was."