Hushed
Tales of Ryca, Book 2
Shereen Vedam
Hushed Copyright © Shereen Vedam. All Rights Reserved.
Contents
Dedication
Hushed © copyright 2017 Shereen Vedam
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
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About the Author
Dedication
This fantasy novel is dedicated to all my friends.
They, too, are my family.
Hushed © copyright 2017 Shereen Vedam
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Print ISBN: 978-0-9953447-5-4
Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9953447-4-7
Cover Design:
Wicked by Design: http://www.wickedbydesigncovers.com/
Chapter 1
“Put your clothes back on!” her mother said.
Eighteen-year-old Princess Tamara’s ears still rang from the door slamming shut. Left alone with her daunting mother in this torch-lit chamber, a tremor of dread swept down her spine.
How could her first time in a man’s bed have ended up with castle guards carting off her would-be lover and leaving Tamara at her mother’s mercy? And where were they taking Thyel?
Buck up! She straightened her spine. This was no time to show weakness. She defiantly dropped the bed sheet. Retrieving her shift, she dragged it over her head. Then put on her discarded amber silk gown that Thyel had passionately flung off not fifty heartbeats ago. Her fingers fumbled with the ties at her back. It was hard to focus when she wanted to rip the gown to shreds. She controlled her temper before speaking.
“How did you find me?” Was that her voice, sounding so flippant? Well done, Tamara.
Mamosia, Queen of Ryca, slowly raised one elegant eyebrow. Tamara’s mother was not fond of flippancy. Then again, she was not fond of Tamara at all, lately. “Do you realize what almost happened, child?”
“I’m not a child.”
“Your actions suggest otherwise.” By torchlight, her mother looked every inch the royal monarch. Her red velvet gown formed a close v-shaped bodice, extended over wide sleeves, and fell in a full skirt. The circlet of gold over her burnished blond hair finished an attire that was simply elegant.
Tamara usually admired her mother’s casual grace. However, since the queen set her ultimatum a week ago, only fury burned up Tamara’s insides. Yet, like vanishing mist, all her machinations to counter that challenge had dissipated. She took a deep breath. “I almost found myself a husband by the deadline you set.”
Her mother came around the bed and plucked the loose cords at her back out of her fingers. “It is beyond me to understand your thinking. Or perhaps thinking is too much to ask of you these days.”
“I was trying to protect myself. If you hadn’t forced me into this situation, I wouldn’t have had to resort to such a tactic.”
“Do not blame me for your sad lack of comportment, young lady.”
“Your ultimatum ends in days, mother. What did you expect?”
“If you wanted to marry this fool – and I’m not saying I would have agreed, for he is too ambitious for my liking – why not simply tell me you favored him?”
That was rich. The man her mother picked, vile greedy and intolerant Gideon, only saw Tamara as a gateway into the royal family. Her mother seemed oblivious to his true nature. So, Tamara tried to explain her thinking in choosing Thyel instead. “I couldn’t tell you. Not until…”
“Until what?”
The moment stretched. Finally, unable to stop the words that gnawed away deep in her heart, Tamara said, “You decreed no man may touch me until my wedding night. That gave me the perfect way to test Thyel’s character.”
Her mother’s cool fingers stilled on Tamara’s warm back. “How?”
“To see if he had the strength to oppose your will. He did! That suggests I can trust him to bend to my wishes above all others, even you, which makes him the best choice for my husband.”
“Tamara…why do you distrust my judgment?”
“I’ve learned otherwise to my peril, mother. Or have you forgotten your time spell?”
“That saved our lives!”
“I would gladly have given mine up to have avoided those horrible decades.” Shut up. Too late. The words she’d swallowed for five years had erupted like a volcano.
Her mother swung her around to face her, holding her in place with fingers tight on Tamara’s upper arms. “What do you mean? We were unaware of the years passing. One moment, we stood in the woods with your uncle’s horsemen surrounding us. The next, we were in the castle and my little Saira, all grown up, was unraveling my spell.”
Tamara pulled out of her mother’s painful hold and turned to hide her torment. Hush!Cover up. She mustn’t find out the truth.
Over two decades ago, in one devastating night, her mother had lost her husband, her kingdom and almost lost Saira, her favorite child. Seeing the horror in her mother’s eyes, Tamara made a solemn silent promise. For the rest of her life, she would protect her mother from further anguish.
After the time spell was cast, her brother and mother’s lives had indeed paused. Not so Tamara. She’d been miserably awake during every excruciating moment that followed. Frozen in place. Her cries unheard. Listening to the ravings of her murderous uncle and his mad wizard cohort.
The knowledge of her daughter’s endless torment during those lost decades would destroy what remained of her mother’s shattered heart. So, since Saira broke their spell five years ago, Tamara carefully hid the trauma she had undergone from her mother, from her family, from everyone. She planned to take her horrific secret to her grave.
She would not be the cause of further harm to her mother.
However, everything had changed for Tamara. She was no longer the eldest and much-loved daughter. Now she was treated as no more than an encumbrance. Someone who needed to be protected, cared for, sheltered. Yet, it was her mother who most needed protecting.
To distract the queen now, she said, “I don’t care for this new life. Everything feels odd.”
Queen Mamosia gently stroked Tamara’s hair. “We all have people and things we miss.”
She meant her beloved husband. Tamara’s father. Her throat clogged with old sorrow. “I don’t want to talk about father. You need to forget him, but not by setting yourself to torture me for the rest of my sorry life.”
“Marriage doesn’t have to be torture, Tamar
a.”
“It will be, if you insist I marry Gideon.”
“He is a rich merchant who is kind, thoughtful and admires you greatly. He has also promised that if he were privileged to become your husband, he would take exceptional care of you, always.” The queen’s fingers returned to Tamara’s ties, pulling them tight and her next words came out hard and implacable. “You will not see Thyel again. I’ve expelled him from the kingdom.”
Tamara swung around and glared at the queen. “How could you?”
“Pick another,” the queen said implacably. “You have five days to present me with your choice, or I will choose your husband.”
“I won’t marry Gideon!”
“I’ve given you an opportunity to chart your own destiny, Tamara. If you are unable to do so, I will do it for you.”
Tamara swallowed to soothe the dryness of her throat. There had to be a way out of this mess. The walls pressed in.
“Your sisters never gave me half as much trouble.”
She turned her back to the queen. “I’m sorry I’m not as good as Saira or Anna.”
Her mother’s fierce tug on her gown’s ties tipped Tamara backwards. She stumbled until she found her balance. Rolling her eyes, she tilted her head back far enough to stare up at the two-story-high domed ceiling of the guest chamber.
Breathe. You need air for clear thinking. Take what you can before mother wrings out your last breath.
Faltering footsteps hurrying along the stone floor of the corridor outside alerted them to a newcomer. The interruption saved Tamara the shame of begging a reprieve for air.
The door opened and her sister Saira entered. Her younger sister looking older, still startled Tamara.
Thirty-eight-year old Saira’s limp had been completely healed by their talented sister, Anna. Yet, when excited or surprised, Saira still walked the old way. A poignant reminder of that terrible night.
Tamara was thoroughly grateful for Saira’s unexpected arrival. Anything to distract her mother from Tamara’s transgression. She nodded a welcome.
Her sister studied her state of dress – no doubt noting her missing hair covering, bare feet, and crumpled gown – but then, thankfully, she shrugged these facts aside and addressed the queen. “Mother, we’ve trouble. Bevan’s missing.”
Bevan, her sister Anna’s nine-year-old son was another of the queen’s favorites. Likely because he was fast growing up to be as strong a sorcerer as her late husband.
Which is why Saira’s news did not concern Tamara. The boy was more than capable of taking care of himself. She glanced behind to check on the queen’s reaction though.
“Are you sure?” her mother asked, concern darkening her gaze.
A shadow of her mother’s fears flit across her face. Tamara resisted the urge to put an arm around her in comfort.
Saira stepped further into the chamber. “Tom and I returned home to find a note from Bevan asking to meet. When I went to his quarters, a shield surrounded him. It had a strange look to it, not the Light shields I’ve taught him to build, but something with a sparkling green tinge. I approached and the shield fell away, and he was gone. I did a spell to trace his whereabouts, but I sensed no trail at all.”
That stirred Tamara’s curiosity. Saira could trace and dismantle most any spell. Could Bevan have grown stronger than his aunt? Possibly. The boy was brilliantly talented at wielding Light magic.
Saira shook her head, as if confused and worried. “I’ve sent a runner to inform his parents, but Anna and Marton are halfway across Ryca. It’ll be days before they return.”
The queen came around the bed to speak with Saira. “Where could he have gone?”
“More like taken, I think,” Saira said, looking angry.
“Taken? How?” Alarm rose in her mother’s voice.
Tamara’s heartbeat skipped with worry, but she shook it off. Bevan was probably practicing a new spell. She almost said so but realized both women had forgotten her. Her glance flew to the half open door. Escape beckoned.
“Who could have taken him?” her mother asked.
“No one in Ryca is that powerful.” Tamara cursed the instant she spoke her thought out loud.
Saira finally seemed to take in her surroundings, her gaze wandering over the warrior tapestries on the wall to the watercolor paintings before settling on Tamara. She took in her barefoot state, standing with a hand gripping the door handle.
“What are you two doing in here?” Saira asked. “I thought it odd the guards directed me to the guest wing.”
“Never mind that,” their mother said absently.
Tamara breathed in relief. Yes, never mind, Saira.
A curt tilt of her mother’s head and Tamara reluctantly shut the door and stepped back into the room. Soon enough, she was forgotten again.
Familiar bitterness overtook her relief. Unlike the rest of her family, Tamara was considered useless during a crisis because she had no magical ability. Another thing to blame her father for. His extraordinary abilities had passed to all his children and grandchildren, all except for Tamara.
If she’d been born with the ability to wield Light, to weave magical spells, she would have faced down the sorcerer Tamarisk, and made him pay dearly for destroying her family. Her mother certainly wouldn’t be forcing her to marry against her will. The queen wanted to ensure her helpless daughter would be protected.
Gideon would shield her, all right. Making sure she had no freedom, doing exactly as he bid for the rest of her miserable life. Meanwhile, he would gain all the power and prestige of marrying into the royal family.
She shivered, remembering his cruel possessive look earlier today. Ever since his merchant vessel docked in Tibor’s harbor two months ago, he’d been playing on her mother’s concerns about Tamara. Well, she would have none of it. No one would trap her. Not again.
Silently, she skirted the canopied bed and stepped onto the tiny balcony attached to this opulent guestroom. The cold out here was preferable to the oppression inside.
If only the queen hadn’t found her out. She should have known better than to think she could fool her mother. Everyone in this castle acted as her mother’s eyes and ears.
At least, this new dilemma about Bevan gave her breathing room.
Staring at the star-strewn night sky, she took a deep breath of the cool salty sea air. Being outdoors always gave her a subtle sense of freedom. How little time she had left to enjoy this precious sense of autonomy. Leaning on the railing, she clenched her fingers around the cold iron balustrade until the sharp edges bit into her palms.
Their castle was built on a hill. Far below stretched the sprawling coastal city of Tibor. Along its eastern edge, vessels hugged the shoreline. They were all sizes and shapes, from barges and tugs, to merchant carriers and fishing vessels.
High above it all, the three moons, called the three sisters, were perfectly lined up. Their full, brilliant glow bathed Tibor’s rooftops, masts, and booms, and rippled over the Sea of Tyver.
Such an alignment of the moons is rare, Bevan had told her this morning. One that portends grave danger.
Had Bevan said that? The memory proved as elusive as the wind that embraced and then abandoned her. She tried to remember and an ache instantly throbbed beneath her eyes.
Wait! Bevan had told her that he’d gone off like this before, and then returned to his bed perfectly safe. How could she have forgotten that? She hurried into the room, shaking her head at her mother worrying unnecessarily. She should know better than to be concerned about that talented boy. “Bevan will come home soon enough.”
The two women turned their angry looks her way.
The dungeon suddenly seemed a safer place. Manacles and a rat-infested cell weren’t as frightening as the queen’s ire.
“Do you not understand the situation, Tamara?” Saira asked. The only royal child with red hair, her sister often reminded her of a hearth fire – warm, but dangerous. “Someone’s taken Bevan. We must get him back.�
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“He’s gone off like this before and returned.” Tamara shrugged to display nonchalance. “So, why worry?”
“When?” her mother asked. “When has he gone off like this? And why didn’t you tell us before?”
The question sincerely surprised Tamara. “But it shouldn’t be news, mother. If he told me, he surely had already confided in you, or Saira.” Her quiet nephew had never been close to Tamara, and he thought of Saira as a second mother.
Her sister and mother approached. At their close proximity, her old terror of being confined jabbed her. She inched backwards but a wall halted her escape.
“Did he say where he went?”
“How long has this been going on?”
Tamara slid past the two questioning women. “Give me time to think!”
The hairs on her arms prickled with tension as she hurried away. When did this become my fault, too? She strode past a writing table, chair, and an intricately decorated oak chest pressed against a wall. In her haste, her bare foot struck the heavy chest, jarring it. She hopped on one foot cursing silently, until an iridescent ribbon stuffed behind the chest caught her attention.
A little tug released the pretty scrap of fabric. Earlier tonight, Thyel had lovingly draped this around her shoulders. She’d instantly felt constricted. Tamara hated anything close to her neck. When he began to disrobe her, she tossed it off. The silky thing must have slid behind the chest. Missing Thyel now, she tied her loose hair back with it. A wave of dizziness struck.
“Tamara,” her mother said. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She rubbed at her temple, but it continued to ache abominably, and now green sparks fluttered behind her eyelids. With irritation, she off pulled the silky band and threw it back toward the chest, where it fluttered out of sight.
Hushed, Tales of Ryca, Book 2 Page 1
