“That doesn’t sound like Evelyn,” Blackhart said.
“She’s not arguing, not talking—I’m not sure she’s even praying.” Cenwulf sighed. “I think she’s grieving, and to be honest, I thought she was grieving over you.”
Blackhart frowned. “I need to see her. To talk to her.”
“She can’t talk,” Cenwulf repeated. “Gross Belly’s put her under a command of silence. She ain’t gonna be able to talk.”
“All she needs to do is listen,” Blackhart said.
The door from the main room opened. Blackhart stepped back into the shadows.
One of the guards walked in. “Any bread and cheese left, Cenwulf? I’m hungry.”
“Cook will have your head, you raid his pantry,” Cenwulf said. He put his mug down and rose. “I’m off to the privy, and then to bed.”
“Just a bite,” said the guard. “Cook’ll never miss it.”
“On your head be it, then.” Cenwulf opened the door to the yard and stepped into the cold. Blackhart slipped out behind him, as quiet as could be. Cenwulf closed the door behind him.
“Thanks,” Blackhart said.
“I had to piss anyway,” Cenwulf said. He headed across the yard. “There’s not a chance in hell that they will let you see her.”
“I have to try,” Blackhart said.
Cenwulf stopped at the door to the privy. “Why?”
Blackhart had moved, fading into the shadows of the small house, but he stopped and looked at Cenwulf. “I . . . I have to—”
Cenwulf looked into the man’s face, and for an instant he saw the truth. Whether or not Blackhart had admitted it to himself, Cenwulf knew what drove the man.
And saw a hint as to the cause of the pain in Evelyn’s eyes.
EVELYN prepared for bed, removing her heavy robes and laying them neatly folded in the press at the foot of her bed.
Dear Dominic. He’d been driven by kindness to offer for her hand, for pity of her. She’d shaken her head even as he’d spoken, but he’d told her that he wouldn’t give up, wouldn’t stop until he’d persuaded her. Such a dear friend.
She took a plain cotton shift from the press, and pulled it on over her head. The fire was banked, and there was extra wood in the box. Her attendants had seen to her needs, then locked the door behind them.
She slipped beneath the blankets, shivering for a moment before the bedding began to warm. The shutters rattled in their frame. Winter must be on its way.
She’d try to sleep this night, instead of laying awake. In the morning, she’d try to pray again.
The shutters rattled again, and the dead leaves of the ivy vine that framed the window rustled. She frowned. There was no sound of wind or storm. What—
“Evie?”
THIRTY-TWO
EVELYN’S heart leaped in her chest.
“Evie?”
It wasn’t much more than a whisper, but it pulled her out from under the warm covers. She threw them off and darted to the window, her heart beating like a frightened bird. It was not true, of course; it couldn’t be; she was ill, feverish . . . .
Her fingers trembled so hard that she fumbled the latch, then finally was able to pull open the shutters and look out.
Orrin was hanging from the ivy by the side of the window, his face pale and anxious. “Evie,” he breathed.
Evelyn braced her hands on the sill, leaned out, and kissed him.
His lips were cold and still for just a moment. Then they came alive, warm and responsive, and Evelyn moaned as her entire body came alive again, vibrating with her need. She opened her mouth, letting her tongue dart out to taste him, and heard him groan in response.
A rustle of leaves, and Orrin pressed her back, never breaking contact as he climbed over the sill. Evelyn reached out to wrap her arms around his neck, kissing him frantically, hugging him close. The sharp edges of his sword hilt pressed through her cotton shift, but she ignored the minor discomfort for the pure joy of having him in her arms.
Orrin broke the kiss long enough to secure the shutters behind him, then pulled her back into his arms and kissed her again, his gloved hands running over her back. Evelyn felt her knees go out from under her but Orrin caught her and gently lowered her to the floor beneath the window, cradling her in his arms.
Evelyn released his mouth to scatter kisses over his face, to run her fingers through his hair. She couldn’t believe he was there with her, and she shivered at the intensity of her feelings.
Orrin shifted, and brought his cloak around her, wrapping both of them in its warmth. The familiar smell of ehat wool surrounded her, and she put her head on his shoulder and sighed.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me,” Orrin whispered.
Evelyn lifted her head in surprise, and looked at him, taking in the strain and exhaustion on his face. She opened her mouth, but Orrin placed a gloved finger over her lips. “I know you aren’t supposed to talk, so please, just listen.”
She closed her mouth, and lifted her hand to touch his warm cheek. He reached up, and covered her hand with his own. He closed his eyes, and a shudder went through him. “I was afraid I’d killed you. No one would tell me anything. At the Court, at the church, no one would say.”
He opened his eyes, worry filling their depths. “You are well? No lasting harm?” He looked her over, running his hand through her hair. “Healthy? Healed?”
She nodded, her eyes bright. She slid her hand out, and laid it on his chest, asking her own silent question.
“I’m fine,” Orrin said. “Reader had the worst of it, but he’s mending well.” He paused. “Thomas and Timothy, they didn’t make it, Evie.”
She closed her eyes, and lowered her head to his shoulder.
“None of us could bear the thought of leaving them in the Keep, so we buried them in the pines,” Orrin said.
Evelyn bit her lip, stifling a sob. She slipped her hand around Orrin’s neck.
Orrin hugged her tight, placing his chin on the top of her head. “Elanore is dead. The odium are gone, cleansed from the land. They all collapsed when Elanore died.
“We spent a week spreading the word and checking the countryside, but all we found were corpses sprawled on the ground. They’d just fallen over when she died.”
Evelyn lifted her head, and gave him a doubtful look.
“No, I know you’ve heard that before, but Mage made sure. He figured out how to use the spell that created those spell chains to drain the odium. He used it on her, and all that was left was dust,” Orrin said. “I’m sure of this.”
Evelyn tilted her head, then raised her eyebrows.
“The people are returning to their lands and reclaiming their farms.” Orrin looked over her head, a very satisfied expression on his face. “It was slow, because we sent escorts with everyone, but so far there have been no problems. Before I left, I set up regular patrols and a watch in the town. They will do well until the Queen appoints the new High Baron of the Black Hills.”
Evelyn smiled, her eyes filling again. Orrin looked at her with a frown. “You’re cold.” He stood then, pulling her to her feet. “Will anyone come?”
She shook her head, and took his hand to lead him to the bed.
Orrin pulled his hand back. “Let me build up the fire. Get into the bed, and get warm. I’ll take the chair.”
Evelyn frowned at his back, sensing hesitation on his part. She pulled the thick comforter off the bed, and sat on the floor next to him as he stoked the coals and added wood to the flames. He gave her a warm look, then settled beside her on the hearth rug. She took his hand in hers.
He looked down, and smiled when he saw the silver ring on her finger. He rubbed the stone with his thumb. “I thought you’d die, there in the throne room. I was so helpless, so paralyzed with fear. It wasn’t until Mage said something that I remembered the summon stick your father gave you.
“It tore me apart to let Dominic take you, but I had no choice. I asked him to explain, but he wasn’t
very”—Orrin paused—“not very friendly. I can’t say as I blame him, me standing there half-naked, and you broken and bleeding in my arms.”
Evelyn held up her hand and pointed at the ring.
“Your father didn’t think that through very well. The portal opened fine, but they had no way of knowing what was on the other side. So I tossed the ring through the portal, to convince them it was safe. I—”
Anger boiled up in Evelyn’s chest as she took in his words. Her ears roared with her rage that Dominic would deceive her so.
“Evie?”
Orrin’s voice drew her back, his warm hands holding hers. He’d come to her, climbed the tower for her. Her joy about burst from her chest, and her cheeks flushed.
Orrin reached out and brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I came to Edenrich as soon as I could, Evie. To claim my pardon, and the pardon for my men. But I wanted to see you, to make sure you were well, and to tell you . . . to explain . . .”
He looked away. “About the odium . . .”
ORRIN drew a deep breath, grateful that Evelyn couldn’t speak. It made this easier, somehow. He’d agonized over how to tell her, how to explain. He’d thought of avoiding this conversation, but he couldn’t. He had to tell her the truth.
“Elanore was mad for power, and that didn’t seem such a bad thing.” Orrin kept his gaze on the fire, holding Evelyn’s hand in his own. “She and the Regent came up with a plan, and I obeyed the orders of my Baroness. With Edenrich in chaos, Farentell fell like a soft plum in our hands.
“The Regent wanted the lands, Elanore wanted slaves to work the mines, and so the slave trade was born. Then Elanore decided to attack Athelbryght and Summerford at the same time. I argued with her, saying that to split our forces that way, on two borders, was madness. But she was the High Baroness, and would not be overruled. She said she had a weapon that we could wield that would assure our victory.
“That night, she ordered slaves delivered to her workroom in the dungeons, and the next morning odium appeared. Mindless creatures that could rip an opponent to pieces before our eyes.” Orrin wet his lips. “I didn’t see a person standing there. I saw a weapon. One I could use to achieve my Baroness’s desires. And so I agreed. More slaves were delivered, and more odium joined the ranks.”
Orrin shook his head. “But the army of Summerford fought like madmen, and Wyethe came to their defense. The odium had drawbacks as troops. I was forced to retreat, to save my men for another day.
“Elanore, using mages and men, managed to wipe Athelbryght out of existence. But the magic she used back-lashed through her mages to her, and almost killed her. It scarred her face and mind. From that day forth, she created odium every night, using our enemies as her source.”
He looked down, and saw that his knuckles were white, he was gripping Evelyn’s hand so hard. He released her at once, flexing his hand and then forming a fist. “Night after night, the slaves would be driven down into the dungeons and chained to the walls. No one stayed down there with Elanore, no one witnessed what she did. Each night, slaves went down. Each morning, odium came up.”
Orrin rubbed his palms on his trous. “After a while, our need for the odium grew, but slaves were in short supply. So Elanore ordered that our own people be added to the lines that went down into the dungeons.
“I was trapped, Evelyn. I’d been so focused on my people, my lands, my Baroness. At least, that is what I told myself. But by the time I realized what we’d done, I knew that I was trapped between the needs of our people and the demands of the Baroness. If I’d confronted her, I’d have been added to the chains, and there’d be no one left who might be able to control her. But a part of my soul sickened and died every time I gave those orders.
“It wasn’t until the day I met you, the moment you laughed in the depths of that prison, that I saw a glimmer of hope. Then, when word came that Elanore had been killed—”
He turned, then, to look at her, the Priestess of Light. She was sitting there, wrapped in the comforter, tears streaming down her face, her eyes filled with grief and pain.
It took him a moment to see that there was no condemnation there, no accusation. That the grief and the pain were for him. He reached out for her hand, and she reached out as well, their hands meeting and clasping.
A sob rose then, from deep in his chest, an anguished cry. “Oh, Evelyn, how can I ever atone—”
She came up on her knees, and pulled him to her breast, wrapping her arms around him, rocking him back and forth as he wept. All those people. There could never be forgiveness for his sins, for his actions. And yet, Evelyn’s arms were around him, her tears on his hair. He reached out, wrapped his arms around her hips, and clung to her like a child.
She pulled him down then, to lie before the fire on the thin hearth rug, and covered them both with the comforter. Her fingers combed slowly through his hair. His head lay on her breast, and he could hear the steady beat of her heart within.
Slowly, he calmed. His breathing returned to normal, and he lifted his head. “Evie.”
She gave him a sad smile, reached up with one hand, and pulled his head down into a kiss.
He responded, lost in the heady rush of her mouth, the gentle scent of her skin. He explored for long moments, and Evelyn opened her mouth and shifted her legs, responding as she had during that first kiss, in the—
Orrin jerked his head away, and scrambled to his feet. Evelyn looked up at him, her hair and shift disheveled, her lips swollen from his kiss. “No, Evelyn. I won’t—”
She held up one finger, and the tip began to glow, as if on fire.
Orrin took a step back.
EVELYN put her finger down on the hearthstone, and wrote, letting the fire trail behind her finger. I know you, Orrin Blackhart.
“No,” he said stubbornly, but she ignored him. She moved her hand again, tracing out the letters.
I know your heart, Orrin. You are not the man you were.
“I can never—”
I love you, Orrin Blackhart of the Black Hills.
She looked at him, at his face, so weary, so vulnerable. He wouldn’t look at her, just stared at the blazing words on the hearth. “I love you, Evelyn of Edenrich, Lady High Priestess of the Gods of Palins. I love you far too much to—”
She reached out, and wrote again, with broad strokes. Orrin, don’t be an idiot.
THIRTY-THREE
EVELYN watched as Orrin choked on a laugh. “Oh, I’m an idiot now, eh? Such romantic talk, Priestess. Sweeps me right off my feet, it does.”
Evelyn rose, letting the comforter fall to the floor.
Orrin’s face went stern. He took a step back toward the window. “I’ve said what I came to say. I’m glad to find you well, and more than grateful for your aid, Lady High Priestess.”
Evelyn took another step toward him.
Orrin stiffened, and bent to snatch up his sword and dagger. “My men and I have decided to leave Palins once the pardons are official. Memories linger, and there are some with sharp blades who won’t let a piece of parchment stop them.” He tied his scabbard back on his belt. “Sidian has some ideas of where we can go to make our way in the world. He hasn’t said where, but—”
Evelyn put her hand on his arm, and looked up at him with a gentle tilt of her head. He froze, staring at her.
She moved her fingers down the sleeve of his tunic, and slipped her hand into his. With a tug, she turned to lead him to the bed.
“No.” Orrin resisted her pull. “No, Evelyn. Listen to me. I’ll admit breaking the rules to come here tonight, but that’s on my head. I’ll not be the cause of your expulsion from the—”
Evelyn tugged again.
“You love being a priestess,” Orrin said softly.
She stopped, and looked away.
“I saw you,” Orrin continued. “Back in Wareington, healing that babe. Don’t try to tell me different. You love serving the powers above us, love aiding the people in any way you can.”
Evelyn’s fingers tightened on his, and she nodded without looking up.
“You’ve accomplished so much for Palins.” Orrin drew her toward him, and wrapped his arms around her. “I won’t be the cause of your expulsion from the Order.” Orrin buried his face in her white hair. “I’d petition the Archbishop for your hand in marriage, but we both know that fat turd won’t—”
Evelyn’s head came up, her face open in surprise, her cheeks flushed. She mouthed the word “marriage.”
Orrin nodded. “Yes, I would marry you if I could. But—”
Evelyn threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him.
Orrin groaned into her mouth, his arms encircled her, and he returned the kiss with a hunger that betrayed his true feelings.
Evelyn threw her head back, and Orrin’s mouth trailed wet kisses down her throat. She put her hand out, and gestured. When he lifted his head, words were floating before him, gold and glowing. Please, beloved. One night. Please.
ORRIN looked into Evelyn’s pleading eyes, and knew he was doomed.
Another man, a good man, would walk away. Stride to the window and jump, for that matter. But he couldn’t do it, not for the life of him.
“I’d have you in a bower, My Lady, where the walls are covered in thick tapestries, with a warm fire and a feather-bed covered in rose petals.”
She went up on her toes, and kissed the corners of his eyes. The golden words swirled about them, repeating over and over. Please, beloved. One night. Please.
Orrin knew he couldn’t leave if he wanted to, and in a bittersweet way he wanted this as much as she did. One night in her arms. Sin or blessing, it was theirs to claim. This one night.
He unclasped his cloak, and let it fall to the floor behind him.
Evelyn laughed, that pure, wonderful laugh of joy. The golden words popped in a glitter of dust, drifting down around them.
Orrin reached out to cover her mouth with his fingers. “Hush, now, or you’ll have the entire place at our door.” He hesitated. “Is this what you truly want, Evelyn? There is so little time before dawn, and I—”
White Star Page 21
