“I like to keep to myself.”
“Of course you do. If you ever decide otherwise, we could use a man like you up at the palace.”
Iselt stared hard at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Despite his gruff exterior and surly countenance, Rhoane liked the man. He leaned against a counter, stroking his chin in thought.
“Will you be staying all day? I could order us some tea.”
“It seems I will be traveling in the next few days. I was thinking of taking a pleasure cruise, but you would be better suited to take my place.”
“I’m a land man, Your Highness.”
“Of course you are.” Rhoane pushed off from the counter and cracked his neck. “Join me for a little chat down by the docks and see if perhaps I cannot change your mind. The pay is better than you make here in a moonturn and you would be helping the princess.”
Iselt eyed him skeptically. He’d hoped the mention of Taryn would help, but it only served to upset the blacksmith more. Rhoane stalled his departure by drawing a copy of the dagger and throwing star, making certain to get the marks just right. When he finished, he tucked the paper in a pocket.
“In a bell then?” he asked carefully, fully expecting Iselt to decline.
“Where is this meeting to take place? I can’t just lumber around the docks, now can I?”
Relief swept over him. He gave Iselt the address with an admonition to be certain he wasn’t followed and to tell no one.
Iselt gave his word, and to Rhoane’s surprise, swore him to his oath once more, leaving Rhoane to wonder what exactly had transpired between the man and Taryn.
He hurried to the palace, alerting Hayden he’d found the perfect spy to board Adesh’s ship. They only needed to connect him with Amanda, and to possibly let Denzil know of their plan. Hayden insisted on accompanying Rhoane to the docks in his ridiculous peasant attire. He suffered the fool for the benefit of his ego. Iselt arrived at the appointed location on time and the introductions were made.
Amanda scrunched up her nose at Hayden’s appearance but evaluated Iselt like an Ullan buying a foal. When she finished assessing the man, she turned her attention to Rhoane.
“Why don’t ye come with us? We could use another good man like ye aboard ship.”
“Thank you, but my services are required elsewhere.” He’d been debating all afternoon about postponing his trip north to sail with Iselt. Not just to uncover Lliandra’s illegal dealings, but to learn more about the man. The fact was, finding the Shadow Assassin was far more important to him than taxes, but if Iselt was important to Taryn’s future, that took precedence.
“If ye change yer mind, we sail on the tide two days hence.”
Rhoane left Iselt with Amanda and her charming mother Matilde, who served them bitter tea in chipped Danuri cups, and returned to the palace with Hayden in tow. They discussed at length the role Denzil would play, agreeing for the moment to keep his involvement secret from Baehlon. The last time Rhoane tried to mention his brother’s name, the giant knight had bellowed enough to frighten citizens in the neighboring kingdom.
Which was exactly what he did when Rhoane told him he’d be traveling north, undercover and alone.
“Taryn will return any day and you’re taking off to lands unknown on a fool’s errand. And for what? The possibility of finding a blacksmith who might’ve made some weapons ages ago.”
“I cannot stay here and wait. I need to keep myself occupied or I will go mad with worry.”
“It sounds to me like you’re running away.”
“I can get information that will help us. If I stay here, I will just be tormented by Marissa.”
“The princess keeps to herself. I’ve yet to see her this past cycle of the moon. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”
Rhoane had kept Marissa’s secret, but it was time to tell his friend the truth. “She is with child and says I am the father.” Saying the words aloud did nothing to dispel the unpleasantness of them.
“And you believe her? She’s got more lovers than hairs on a carlix. I hear even her maids are used in ways better left for Nena’s house. She’ll take any advantage to put a wedge between you and Taryn.”
“And for that reason I must leave Talaith. It was not until Marissa told me the child was mine that I saw all of her actions have been calculated to her desires. I will not fail Taryn again.”
“Now you’re speaking like a true prince. Go on your adventure, but what do I tell Taryn when she returns? Lliandra seems to think she’ll be back for her birthing day. I hope so; the empress is planning a grand event to celebrate.”
“She is?” Rhoane asked, surprised. He’d heard nothing of the plans. “How do you know?”
Baehlon grinned. “The servants. Taryn was right. They know everything that happens in this palace.”
“Truly?” Rhoane was impressed. “If Taryn returns before me, tell her I will be here for her birthing day. Do not tell her where I have gone. Knowing her, she will try to rescue me and with any luck, she will succeed.”
Baehlon laughed out loud and clapped Rhoane on the shoulder. “That she would. It’s good to have you back, my friend.”
Rhoane gave him a sharp look. “Was I really that bad?”
“Worse, but let’s not dwell upon it. We have plans to make and stories to concoct. I’ll have to tell the empress something about your sudden departure.” Baehlon poured himself some wine and another glass for Rhoane. “Now then, where are you going—let’s start with the hard one first.”
They spent the evening with their heads together, planning Rhoane’s elaborate lie. Alasdair brought them dinner and Faelara stopped in to offer assistance. When they had his attire set and the ruse in order, Baehlon escorted Faelara out of Rhoane’s rooms. He was settling in for the night when a knock on his door made him tense. Alasdair escorted Princess Marissa to his sitting room and Rhoane gave him a dark look.
Alasdair said by way of explanation, “I told Her Highness that you were retired for the evening, but she insisted.” Rhoane nodded, dismissing his valet. He remained standing, not offering her a seat. “What do you want, Marissa?”
“Won’t you at least offer me a glass of wine?”
“No. Tell me what it is and be gone.”
“You wound me, Rhoane.” Her brows knit very prettily. When he said nothing, she continued, “I came here tonight to share my news. The baby is moving. I thought you’d like to feel your son.” She reached out to take his hand, but he snatched it away.
“You have given me no proof this is my child. I understand you have many lovers—some you used just like me.”
“You listen to the gossip of servants and scorned suitors. I thought you a better man, Prince Rhoane of the Eleri.” Marissa tossed her hair with a stamp of her foot.
“Yes, I am an Eleri prince and if this child is mine, then I will take him to the Narthvier to raise him as such.” He watched her face carefully and almost smiled when a flicker of fear lit in her eyes.
“You’ll do no such thing. Our son will be raised here as a prince of the realm, with both of his parents.”
“A son cannot inherit the Light Throne, but he can be heir to the Weirren Throne. As I am next in line for my father’s crown, my son will take my place if I so choose. Taryn and I will take him to his people and raise him as an Eleri.”
Marissa’s chuckle sounded more like Kaida’s growl. “And you think your lovely betrothed will forgive you so easily? You assume she will accept this child? That she’ll love him? Then you are a fool.”
Rhoane’s hand shot out to grab Marissa by the throat, slamming her against the wall. She cried out and clawed at his hand, but he held her firm. “You do not know the first thing about my Taryn. She would raise this child as her own. She would love him because she loves me. She possesses something you have never known. Kindness.”
“You think she’ll show you compassion when she returns and learns about our child?” Marissa pulled her dress away
to show him a small cut above her heart, fresh and bleeding. “This is the kindness she gave me at Gaarendahl. Nothing I do will heal it. At times, the pain is so severe I must stay abed all day.”
He sensed Taryn’s ShantiMari in the wound, her rage and pain mingled with Marissa’s blood, but there was grace as well. While keeping one hand on her throat, he reached his other toward her breast.
She arched toward him, moaning as if he’d stroked her.
“Stop it. I am not touching you for pleasure. She is kind, Marissa. If she had been anything else, you would be dead. The gods know I would have killed you given the chance.” Marissa’s face lost color, but her chin rose in defiance.
“You call this kindness? Wounding me for all time?”
“You deserved nothing less and you know it. What did you expect from her? Sympathy? She showed incredible bravery that night. She was angry and confused, hurt by your betrayal and mine. Tell me, what would you have done in her place?”
Marissa glared at him. “I would never have been so stupid as to be there to begin with. As far as I’m concerned, she deserved what she got.”
“I cannot kill you, Marissa, because you carry an innocent life, but—” He pinched her skin, forcing his Shanti into her, mixing it with Taryn’s. “If this child is not mine, every Eleri will know of your betrayal and deceit.”
Her eyes widened and she trembled slightly.
“Past, present, and future Eleri will know Princess Marissa of the Light Throne sought to destroy me and the one I love. The one they know and revere as theDarennsai. They will know of her forgiveness and your betrayal. Forever more, you will be known as the Black Princess for your evil deeds and dark heart. You will become the monster mothers threaten their children with.”
“You go too far.” Delicate tears flowed down her face to his hand. “Don’t do this. Please.”
“If you are without fault, then these are nothing but empty words.” He pressed down on her wound to finish the oath. “This I swear, as First Son and Eleri Prince Rhoane,Surtentse and betrothed to Taryn Rose of House Galendrin.”
Marissa screamed and he released her.
“Get out of my room.”
She bent over, gasping for air. When she rose, a fire lit her lavender eyes. “You’ll regret this, Rhoane. When our child is born, it is you who will suffer.” She turned to go and he grabbed her arm.
“If you tell a soul about this child before it is born, you will not live to give birth to it.”
“I’m starting to show—certainly there will be suspicion.” He could almost see her mind working frantically. “At least let me tell Mother.”
“No one shall know of this child. If it is mine, I have this right.” He stood to his full height and she cowered before him.
“I will tell no one,” she said, her voice nothing more than a whisper.
A low gurgle started in his belly, working its way up to his chest, bubbling out of him in uncontrollable laughter. In that moment of madness, he let go of the anguish he’d held onto since Gaarendahl. What was broken inside him began to mend. For the first time since that terrible night, he wanted to be whole once more. He was Eleri and he belonged—mind, body, and soul—to Taryn. If she would still have him.
A FEW days later, he slipped out of the palace grounds before daybreak, heading north. Fayngaar managed to slouch as they trundled past the guards, pulling a cart laden with spices and exotic fruits from the Summerlands. Rhoane, his hair shorn to above his ears and wearing patched peasant’s clothing, saluted the guards while whistling a happy tune. The going would be slow, but he needed to keep up the disguise if he were to track down the assassin.
The moonless sky glittered with the last remaining stars, and Rhoane gazed toward Dal Tara. He sent a silent prayer to his goddess for guidance and another to Nadra that she watch over Taryn and keep her safe.
Nena’s words echoed in his mind. Taryn was not in danger. At least not at that moment. He slapped the reins and Fayngaar grunted his distaste for the disguise. They trundled north toward Lake Eoin, but Rhoane kept his gaze to the west and Caer Idris, where he hoped Taryn was safe.
Chapter 34
NO MOON guided their way as they traveled southeast toward the Dierlin Pass. The first night of their escape, Taryn found them shelter in an abandoned shepherd’s cottage. Niko munched moldy hay and Kaida caught several rats in the loft while Taryn and the faerie ate what crumbs they could find in the cupboard. When she sank to the floor, exhausted, a wave of emotion washed over her but she held back her tears for fear if she let one fall, a dam would burst. Kaida and the faerie curled close, but it wasn’t their warmth she craved.
The frigid darkness that teased her since the Stones lingered, sometimes giving her chills that wracked her body, other times being nothing more than a nuisance. On several occasions, Rykoto whispered entreaties to her, but he didn’t attack as he had at the river. Still, Taryn was cautious. The constant wariness wore on her and twice she had almost allowed Rykoto to convince her to leave her companions. Always in the middle of the night the voice came, coaxing her awake, easing her into a false sense of confidence.
Both times Kaida had prevented her from leaving or harming herself. Each time Taryn had lain with her arms wrapped tightly around the grierbas, too afraid to let go. Rykoto was getting stronger and more bolder each day and she was no closer to understanding her Dark powers. She couldn’t rely on her father or brother for help, which meant she’d have to find someone else. Hopefully her uncle would have an idea of where she could start, but that had to wait until Paderau and there was a lot of riding between them and the duke.
They rode hard, day and night. Only when she was faint from lack of food would they stop to set snares or fish in a stream. At first, the faerie snatched his food from her with greedy hands, taking gulping bites, afraid Taryn might take the food from him.
Very gently, as if she were speaking to a child, she would say, “You must eat slower or you will make yourself sick.” When she put a hand on his, he snarled at her, baring his teeth. “I am not going to take your food. Slowly, that is it. Just a small bite.” When she gave him another portion, he looked at her with apprehension. “You can trust me. I am going to take care of you.”
Gradually she earned his trust and one night, under a blanket of stars, the faerie found the courage to speak. Not with his voice, but in her mind.
His name was Gian. He belonged to a clan on the western border of the Narthvier. They traded goods with several villages nearby and it was when he was out hunting for pelts that Zakael had come upon him. He bound Gian in his ShantiMari and took him to Caer Idris. Beyond that, Gian would say no more. When Taryn suggested she return him to the vier, he sobbed against her, his sounds muffled in his throat. He insisted over and over again he could never return to the Narthvier.
Whatever he suffered while imprisoned in Zakael’s dungeons had scarred Gian physically and emotionally. Taryn held him close, promising she wouldn’t let anything happen to him. She stretched her power, pulling the shadows over them like a thick cloak.
On the sixth day of their escape, Taryn noticed a sleek black bird flying overhead. When it circled above them, her pulse quickened. Niko must’ve sensed the bird’s presence because he pawed at the ground, snorting with angry huffs. She led him off the road and slid from the saddle, taking Gian with her.
“Go hide over there behind those trees,” she told him. “Do not come out no matter what you see. Do you understand?” He nodded mutely and ran to where she’d indicated. “Kaida, go with him. Zakael will be here any moment. You must keep Gian safe.”
Taryn removed her sword from its scabbard and stood in the center of a small clearing. The bird circled once and then swooped down, dissolving into the form of Zakael when its claws touched the ground. Her brother shook out his cloak, cracking his neck and shoulders before turning to face her. A sword appeared in his hand, its black steel glinting in the sunlight.
“You aren’t making a very
good escape, sister. I found you too easily. Why did you run away? It was most vexing to Father. And myself.”
“I didn’t run away. You and Valterys disappeared. I got bored, so I left.”
“That’s twice now you’ve left my home on short notice. Is it something I said?”
“What do you want?” Taryn flexed her fingers around the hilt.
“For you to return with me, what else?”
“Why—so you can ignore me? No, thanks.”
“You seem to think you have a choice, dear sister, when in fact, you don’t.” He threw a ball of power at her and she sliced through it.
“Yes, I do.” She deflected another of his attacks before swinging her sword low to catch his thigh. He danced out of reach, then came at her hard and fast, but she was ready.
With each thrust, she parried and deflected, circling around to slice his knees, followed by a cut to his chest, deliberately trying to throw him off balance. The longer they fought, the more astonished his expression. He’d underestimated her skill in all things, especially with a sword.
The clash of metal rang out as they slashed and jabbed at each other. Sweat ran down Taryn’s face as she leapt around Zakael. He, too, was dripping from the exertion. Their fight disrupted the calm of the forest, agitating the animals, disturbing nesting birds. The whisperings distracted her focus, and she missed the tip of Zakael’s blade by a carlix’s whisker. The same couldn’t be said about his fist. It landed squarely on her right jaw and she staggered backward.
A devilish grin spread across his face and he advanced for another assault. She spun quickly, elbowing him in the gut, then crushing his foot with her heel before turning to knock him on the head with the hilt of her sword. He went down on his knees, breathing heavily. Dazed from the blow he’d given her, and the energy she expended, she paused a moment to gather her strength and he grabbed her with his power.
His ShantiMari whipped around her neck, lifting her from the ground. She thrashed, gasping for breath. A thread of silky black snatched her sword from her hand while another pulled her arms above her head. She cursed herself for giving him the opportunity to restrain her.
The Temple of Ardyn (Song of the Swords Book 2) Page 30
