Diviner's Prophecy

by Nicolette Andrews

  We set an easy pace through the city. It was early yet, and the city had only just begun to stir. Shops opened their shutters, and one woman tossed a bucket of water onto the street. Our contingent of guards surrounded us, but I could see the stares and the way the people bowed as we passed by. The people cheered, exalting Adair’s name, and their admiration continued to echo long after we passed.

  “You are well loved,” I remarked to Adair.

  He grinned. “I suppose you could say that.”

  “Don’t let his modesty fool you,” Layton said. “He enjoys the attention.”

  Sabine snorted in a most unladylike fashion, and we all joined in with peals of laughter. Before long, the city receded behind us and open country unfurled before us. Farmhouses nestled in small valleys between rolling hills, and cattle ambled over the lush landscape. The company was amiable, and I relaxed a minute amount. My charge to find the answers to my own mysteries still concerned me, but being in the country felt like a homecoming.

  I remembered a childhood in the countryside, roaming wild and free, exploring farmland and forest, and every night I would curl up by the fire and read while he worked. That is where the memory ends. I do not know who “he” is.

  We drew up on a hillside, the same Hilliard and I had stopped on months before when we arrived in Keisan. The sun had begun to rise and, with it, growing warmth.

  “This seems like a good place to stop,” Sabine announced.

  We dismounted, and the servants that had joined us set out a blanket and a picnic lunch of bread, slices of meat, fruit, and cheese. I worried there would be too many willing ears, and I ate, mulling over the questions I wished to ask Adair.

  We ate and laughed while Layton and Adair regaled us with stories of growing up in the palace and the mischief they used to get up to as boys.

  “Once, Adair brought a crab up from the shore and left it in Sarelle’s bed. You should have heard the scream she unleashed when she found it!” Layton laughed, and Adair joined in.

  I glanced at Sabine, wondering her thoughts. Princess Sarelle was the other half of the treaty that kept Sabine trapped and exiled from her homeland. She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand, and I was glad to see her at ease for once. She, too, seemed to relax outside the confines of the palace.

  The servants were clearing our plates and packing away leftovers when Adair leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Come with me.”

  I flushed. Though I knew this was the intention of our venture, I felt as if I were giving the wrong impression to Layton and Sabine. My relationship with both of them was so fresh I feared them thinking ill of me. Especially after Layton’s remark, I did not want him to think I was using Adair for Damara’s purposes.

  Adair stood and held his hand out for me. I took it and avoided Layton’s and Sabine’s gazes. Earvin, who had been hanging back leaning against a nearby tree, took a step forward to follow.

  “She’ll be safe in my care,” Adair said whilst patting a broad sword at his hip.

  “My lady gave specific instructions to not leave her side,” he replied.

  “I promise not to tell her.”

  I gave him a pleading look, which did not seem to sway him. The last thing I needed was for one of Damara’s men-at-arms to overhear me plotting against her.

  He did not reply but continued to watch the pair of us.

  “Earvin, I shall not leave shouting distance, I promise.”

  He nodded infinitesimally, and I relished my small triumph. Perhaps this would work; perhaps I had misjudged Adair and he would be interested in helping and not getting under my skirt. Adair led me away from the group and through a grouping of trees. Once out of sight, he took my hand and drew me away. My heart hammered in my chest. What is wrong with you! He’s a womanizer. Do not let your guard down. Stay focused.

  He turned around to smile at me, and my stomach flopped. Have I erred? What if he knows nothing and I am nothing but a conquest to him after all?

  We were some distance away when the trees thinned and opened up onto a valley. It stretched open before us; knee-high grasses rustled in the breeze. There was nothing for miles, no dwellings, not even a lone tree.

  “This is it,” Adair announced. He placed his hand on my waist. I froze underneath his touch, all my fears confirmed in that action. He leaned forward as if to kiss me, and then finding my reason, I pulled away.

  “I’m not sure what you expect from me, but I’ve no intention of being your…” I could not choke out the word. Embarrassment swelled my throat.

  Still bent forward, he snatched at an invisible object beside my head. I twirled to see what it was. “My lover?” He laughed, and I colored at his amusement. “There was a spider.” He opened his palm and blew. A black speck caught the breeze and drifted away.

  I felt like a fool. Of course he had innocent intentions. Why would he be interested in me? Who was I, not an exceptional beauty and a woman without title. I had been vain to think a prince would consider me a prize.

  “Maea, I would never dream of using you. You are a rare treasure, not something to be squandered.”

  I jerked my head in surprise and then caught myself and said, “I’m sure you tell every girl the same thing to get her to lift her skirt for you.”

  He smirked and placed his hand on my waist again. “Is it working?”

  I smiled and pulled away. “Definitely not.”

  He laughed all the harder. “I knew you were different, Maea, and I mean it. You are special, and I swear upon my immortal spirit that I have no ill intentions in mind for you. I truly want to help.”

  I relaxed and yet felt disappointed. Silly as it was, I had liked the notion of someone like Adair chasing after me. The thought of my goal at court sobered me, and I shook off my disappointment to focus on more important matters.

  Adair, having finished laughing, had stepped over to the edge of the precipice on which we stood. “Come, look, I have something to show you.”

  I moved closer to the edge. He swept his arm across the landscape. “This is where it happened.”

  “What happened?”

  “You don’t know?”

  I shook my head.

  “I suppose they wouldn’t want you to know. This is the place where Johai’s father, Prince Garrison, turned against the throne in hopes of becoming king himself. He gathered men loyal to him and used the war against Neaux as a cover for his coup. He failed ultimately, but at a great cost.”

  I looked at the unassuming field; a sprinkling of wildflowers bloomed blood red. Flashes of my vision zoomed through my mind: young men dying, falling to the ground and clutching the pike that had pierced them; men, wild eyed, meeting with steel and gritted teeth, fighting tooth and nail. Hundreds had died here, maybe thousands.

  Tears rolled down my face. I could hear their pained cries and feel their agony ringing in my ears. One piece of the puzzle had manifested, and I wished it had not. The emotion in this place was nearly too much for me to handle. I clutched both sides of my head as both the death knells and the pain bloomed in my skull.

  “Maea.” Adair grabbed my shoulders and forced me to face him. “Are you all right?”

  My vision cleared as Adair searched my face. I gulped back my tears. “I’m fine. What is it that happened in this place?” My head drummed with a headache, but I knew this place meant something. It was connected to me somehow.

  Adair studied me for a moment before continuing. “Prince Garrison was a reformist. He often spoke about the archaic nature of our current monarchy succession. He suggested that the sanctity of the marriage bed should be enough to prove the legitimacy of a man’s heir. He gathered a following, men who sought to overturn Danhad’s rule and place Garrison on the throne over his brother. In this valley, our own men turned against us and slaughtered one another.

  “My uncle King Dallin would have been among the slain had he not been detained in another battle further north. Prince Garrison was found out, and all of his conspir
ers but one were executed, and he was imprisoned in the tower.”

  I thought of Adair’s reading and the beckoning hand at the top of a spiraling staircase. Had Adair visited his traitorous uncle and why? I reserved that question for later and instead asked, “Who escaped?”

  “Damara.”

  My heart sank. It was one thing to suspect, quite another to have my suspicions confirmed. Worse, it did not prove anything more than I had suspected. “I feared that would be the case,” I said and glanced once more across the field. A breeze picked up and rippled across the long grass.

  “Maea, you must know she is using you to finish my uncle’s work. Her and Johai are plotting to change succession; they want to go back to the old ways of an open election.”

  “I thought so as well,” I said. I did not look at him as I continued to ponder. It made sense. Damara appeared ambitious enough to concoct such a scheme, but why take away my memories, and what was Johai after? It was apparent he abhorred social gatherings, and if he had designs to be king, surely he would make some effort to be pleasant. No, there was more to it that I had yet to grasp. I could feel Adair’s eyes on me as I stood unmoving on the cliff top.

  “Do you disagree?” Adair asked with a cocked brow.

  I turned to face him for the first time and felt embarrassed for letting my mind wander. “Your theory makes sense, but Johai is an enigma. I think there’s more to this than we think.”

  He moved closer to me and took my hand in his. “You can stop them. You have that power.”

  “How can I stop them? They control everything that I am.” I scoffed, the very notion was too fanciful to even consider.

  “If I knew what Damara was up to, what she and Johai are planning, I could end their plans and in turn free you.”

  I read his face and expected some alternative motive and was surprised to find none. Could he truly want to help me out of his own goodness, or did he, too, have a reason for plotting against Damara and Johai? Either way, our goals were aligned, and he did have the power to follow through on such a promise. It is the only way, I thought. The path to freedom lay before me, and I only needed to reach out and take it.

  “I’ll find out what she’s up to, and then together, we can stop them.” He grinned and pulled me into an embrace. I felt the beating of his heart against my own, which quickened its pace.

  “Don’t worry, Maea, I will free you,” he whispered into my hair.

  I leaned into his embrace, and for a moment I let him hold me. I wanted to trust him, but I was unsure. I pulled away after a moment. He did not seem to notice the distance I put between us, but the smile on his face was contagious. We returned to the group, and Sabine gave me a long look as I took a seat near her.

  I dropped my gaze though I had nothing to be guilty about. Her suspicious look made me feel uncomfortable. Earvin came to hover behind me, and I could feel his judgmental stare on my neck as well. Why do I feel this way? I have done nothing of which to be ashamed. Adair had a reputation, I was not blind to that, but I trusted him when he said I was different.

  The sun was high in the sky when we left for the palace. Though another piece of the puzzle had fallen into place, I felt none the wiser or any more at ease with my situation. Despite making strides in the right direction, I could not negate the feeling that I was no closer to unraveling my past.

  I pondered these things as we meandered through open farmlands, and peasants stopped to watch us pass with hands shading their faces. They waved to us on occasion; others bowed as we passed once they realized who we were.

  Adair sidled up next to me. “A beautiful woman should not wear that expression.”

  I forced a smile. “I’m just thinking.”

  “Hmm.” He glanced to the other side of me, where Earvin rode with eyes forward and a white-knuckled grip upon the saddle. His skittish mount continued to dance beneath him as if itching to be far away. Adair leaned in as far as he could without falling out of the saddle. “I promise you, Maea, I will protect you.” It was the second such declaration that day, and I felt just as ill prepared as the first time.

  A low hiss from my left distracted me, however, and I turned my head as Earvin’s horse reared with a shrieking cry.

  My horse, startled by Earvin’s, bucked and jostled me in the saddle. I flew an inch or two into the air before landing hard onto the saddle. I clung to the reins, fearing I would be thrown from my seat. I was saved, however, when Adair placed his horse in front of mine. He grabbed a hold of the reins and forced the animal to calm.

  A snake slithered into the path, and my mare bucked. Adair’s and Earvin’s hands shot out to grab my steed’s reins and saved me from being thrown.

  “Thank you,” I said breathlessly.

  “I did not think I would have to be so quick on my promise,” Adair said.

  I laughed but was cut off by a cry of alarm. I turned towards the sound to see Sabine’s mount bolting off towards a wheat field nearby. Her horse had spooked, she had already travelled twenty yards or so, and the animal showed no sign of stopping.

  A second rider chased after her, coming up on the animal’s heels. I inched forward in my saddle, fearing for Sabine. The second rider stood in his stirrups as he pulled alongside Sabine’s wayward horse. Sabine’s hair, loosed from its braids, streamed behind her as she reached for the hand offered to her. But just as the rescuer was about to grasp her, the animal tossed its head and veered the other way towards a river.

  They were growing small in the distance, and the chase was less clear, but it appeared the rescuer sat down low in the saddle and struck his horse to increase its speed. He swung down and wide and hugged the outer perimeter in the direction Sabine’s horse had gone.

  I held my breath as he cut in and corralled Sabine’s animal, preventing it from crossing the creek.

  During that time, Sabine’s men and several others had caught up, and they penned the animal in against a fenced area marking a farmer’s garden.

  The first man jumped down from his horse, and Beau and several of Sabine’s men joined him. He got a hold of the animal’s reins, and though it reared, Sabine did not fall, and he managed to get the animal to calm enough for them to extract Sabine safely. Even from a distance, I could see how she fell into her rescuer’s arms.

  They embraced for a long moment in which the others surrounding them waited. I let go a breath I did not realize I had been holding as her rescuer helped Sabine into the saddle before him and they rode back to our group.

  “Who was that?” I asked, scanning the remaining men, but I could not tell from the distance.

  Adair had ridden over to help the others, leaving me with Earvin, who shrugged unhelpfully.

  When they returned, their animals were lathered and breathing hard. Sabine’s hair had come undone, and she rested her head on Beau’s shoulder. He pushed back a strand of hair and caressed her face. The intimacy of the action surprised me. Though he was her guard, I had not expected he would go to such lengths to rescue her.

  “We should head back,” Earvin said.

  “I want to make sure Sabine is well.”

  “It’s dangerous. My lady would not approve me leaving you in a dangerous situation twice today.”

  I raised a brow at him, considering questioning him further, but he was Damara’s man, and I knew I could not trust him.

  “Once I see that Sabine is hale, we can go.” I paused and then added. “What caused the animal to spook?”

  “’Twas a snake, my lady,” one of the guards said.

  “I saw the creature slither out from some long grass over there,” another said.

  “Strange,” I mused aloud.

  “What is that?” Earvin asked as if he could care less.

  “I thought I heard a hiss a moment before the animal appeared.”

  He stared for a moment without answering. “Your mind playing tricks perhaps.”

  An ominous chill crept up my spine. Perhaps I had imagined it, but I could no
t shake the feeling of unease. “You’re probably right.”

  Sabine returned, and Adair helped her down from the horse. He fussed over her and ordered servants to prepare a place for her to rest. I thumbed the necklace at the hollow of my throat. I’d had a feeling just before the animal spooked, one that felt eerily familiar to the sensation I got when I held onto my necklace.

  Chapter Ten

  “Tell him I’m not going,” Johai said.

  I had gone to the dining room to break my fast. When I heard voices carrying out from within, I stopped just outside to listen.

  “It’s not that simple.” Damara sighed. “He’s the ambassador now. He summoned you personally; you cannot burn all your bridges. I need something to work with if the plan is to succeed.”

  “You will have to find someone else.”

  “There is no one else, not with the same amount of influence. If you turn your back on him, everything you’ve sacrificed goes to waste.”

  Johai’s chair skidded across the floor. I drew back from the doorway as his footsteps drew nearer. He turned into the hall where I was standing. Our eyes met. I had been caught.

  “If you insist on eavesdropping, perhaps you should stand where you cannot be seen.”

  I glared back at him. “If you did not want me to hear, perhaps you shouldn’t have been speaking in a common room.”

  If Johai did care for me, he had a strange way of showing it. His mouth was a thin line of displeasure. I thought he would say more, but Damara interrupted.

  “Maea, come join me.”

  Johai swept past me and down the hall. I glanced after him until he disappeared through another doorway. Who are you hiding from? I wondered.

  I entered, and Damara sat at the dining table, a sheet of parchment rolled out in front of her. I took a seat across from her. From my vantage point, I could see her even loopy writing but could not read it upside down. I watched her as she wrote. Her auburn brows furrowed in thought. Is this a woman who plots against the kingdom? I had my doubts about Damara, I was willing to believe she would scheme to place Layton on the throne, but treason had never been something I thought her capable of. Yet if she had been Prince Garrison’s accomplice, then perhaps I knew even less of her than I thought. She finished her letter, looked up to me, and smiled.