The Temple of Ardyn (Song of the Swords Book 2)

by Tameri Etherton

  “I think I’ve proved myself to be loyal to you and it’s no secret I’m getting on in years.” He gave her a woe-is-me look. “Thieving doesn’t hold the charm for me it once did, not with royal gold readily available for less work.”

  He cleared his throat at her look of alarm. “What I meant to say was I could take Gian on as my apprentice, and for a fee, train him how to be your personal spy. He’s small and nimble, always a good thing for this profession. He isn’t a servant nor is he a true courtier, which makes him amenable to both. Lastly, I think he’s proved he possesses the courage to withstand any difficulty.”

  The idea had some merit, but Gian was so young. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Of course, Your Highness. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe your mother approaches.” He leapt to a branch above her head and then scrambled up several more until he was completely concealed.

  When Lliandra’s voice sounded behind her, a wave of unease coursed through her already troubled stomach. This would be the first time she’d spoken to her mother face-to-face since their fight. Taryn braced herself for a verbal lashing.

  “Daughter!” Lliandra strode to where she stood, arms outstretched. “What a pleasant surprise to find you here. I was just walking with my ladies. I do so love the scent of sargot blossoms in summer, don’t you?” She took Taryn’s arm in hers, strolling through the trees. “We can discuss your birthing day celebration.”

  The expected anger never surfaced. Instead, Lliandra described in minute detail everything planned for the grand affair. It was the party she should’ve given Taryn the previous season but couldn’t because no one knew she existed. Lliandra was making up for lost time and her excitement was infectious. When Lliandra rushed off to speak with a cook or florist, Taryn forgot which, she was honestly looking forward to the event.

  Lliandra left her with a command to join the court for dinner. Taryn avoided their formal dinners unless there was a feast planned, but that night Lliandra entertained Lord Aomori’s parents and she wanted to make a good impression. Taryn hadn’t forgotten Lliandra’s accusation that Aomori had seduced her, but apparently, the empress had. She behaved as if the dinner meant the collapse of Talaithian society if it failed.

  Exhausted, tired of political games, and wanting nothing more than to have a quiet night to herself, Taryn snapped at her maids while they dressed her.

  Gian brought her a cup of spiced grhom, melting her anger. He always knew the right words to say or the perfect action to take with her. She was certain he conversed with Kaida, although both denied it.

  The fact was, she didn’t want him to leave, but Ebus had a good idea of how best he could serve her. Considering Gian refused to leave until his life debt was paid, she had to do something with him.

  When she asked whether he’d like to become a spy, he thought she jested with him, but the more she explained Ebus’s offer, the more Gian became interested. The palace, while exciting, was too confining for a woodland faerie. Taryn understood that more than he’d ever know.

  At dinner, Taryn insisted Gian sit between her and Tessa at the high table. Kaida curled at his feet, waiting for tasty bits of meat to find their way to her. Several of the gathered nobles gave Taryn disapproving looks, but she ignored them.

  When Lliandra entered, she passed over Gian as if he weren’t there. Marissa hurried to take her place after everyone else was seated. Before the meal concluded, she made her excuses, leaving the empress at a loss as to her daughter’s behavior. Later, when wine had been flowing for quite some time, loosening courtiers’ tongues, Taryn heard grumblings about the crown princess. It seemed Marissa’s reluctance to participate in court functions was becoming regular fodder for the gossip mill. Of all the strange rumors bandied about, only one rang true.

  Taryn was relaxing by the huge windows that overlooked the sea when Faelara sat next to her and took her hand in her own. “Gian is getting on well here. He and Eliahnna have devised a whole alphabet with signs for nearly everything in the palace,” Faelara said.

  “Ebus wants to train him as a spy.” Taryn studied her friend’s response, but Faelara only nodded, which meant she already knew. “Baehlon’s watching you,” Taryn whispered.

  Faelara glanced at the big knight, squeezing Taryn’s hand. “Stop it. You’ve done enough meddling. Let us decide whether we will be together.”

  They already were together, but playing coy. Technically, Baehlon had to ask Taryn’s permission to court Faelara. She, in turn, needed Lliandra’s permission to accept his advances. Taryn thought the tradition was chivalric, but idiotic all the same.

  “Why do you suppose Marissa is acting so odd?” Faelara was expert at changing the subject from her relationship with Baehlon.

  “She’s pregnant. From what I can tell, no one knows, not even the empress. There’s only one reason she’d hide a baby from her mother and that’s if it’s Zakael’s.”

  Faelara’s look of surprise amused Taryn. Their spies weren’t absolute. “It certainly answers many oddities since we returned from Celyn Eryri.”

  “Whatever her reasons for keeping it a secret, I think we should honor them. If Mother found out from anyone but Marissa, it would be their head on a pike at the palace gate. I don’t know about you, but I like mine right where it is.”

  Faelara swallowed hard. “You make a good argument for silence.”

  Myrddin approached and held his hand out for Taryn to take. “Would you honor this aging mage with a dance?”

  They entered the quadrille and Taryn’s spirits roused. It was one of her favorites.

  “It’s nice to see you smiling again.” Myrddin lifted her with the strength of a young man and pirouetted before placing her softly upon the floor.

  “So I keep hearing. You dance divinely.”

  “I can only imagine the horrors you’ve had to endure, but let’s not speak of them. You made me a promise at Celyn Eryri, do you remember?”

  A flush of warmth spread across her body. Not from her own doing, but Myrddin’s. “I do.”

  “When the pressures of your position become too much, you can always find refuge in my tower. Any time.” He tilted her chin until she faced him. “Will you at least let me provide a haven from all of this?” His dazzling blue eyes flashed toward the empress and back to Taryn.

  “Yes.” She grinned at his impertinence. “I would like that, actually. You probably have the most bizarre collection of artifacts anywhere on Aelinae. If you’ll recall, in my former life it was my job to find such items.”

  “Then please, visit any time you like. Explore to your heart’s content.”

  She spun into the dance and returned to Myrddin’s waiting embrace. His generosity might be genuine or manufactured; for the moment, she didn’t care. Everyone had ulterior motives and she was fed up trying to decipher who she could trust. For once, she was not going to question it and just dance because for the first time in much too long, she was content.

  Chapter 42

  FOR nearly two moonturns, Rhoane chased one lead after another, gathering little more information on the assassin or his master than he had when he left. Everyone associated with the pair died of mysterious causes. He learned of a baker in one village who provided rations to a lodger and a tailor in another town who made several sets of identical black clothing for an unknown client. Both ended up drowned in the local well. Another victim was found hanged in an apparent suicide, his connection to the assassin being nothing more than helping the fellow mend a wound. Disappointment clung to him like a worn cloak—he had hoped to have the assassin in chains upon his return.

  Nena entered her room and grabbed her chest. “God’s truth, Rhoane, one of these days you will stop my heart and then poor Nena will be dead.”

  He rose from the chair he’d been sitting on to kiss both of her cheeks. “It is good to see you, too.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “You got the information you needed, yes?”

  “Not as much as I would
like. Do you have anything new to share before I return to the palace?”

  “Of your shadow man, no, but I’ve had many visitors who might interest you. Your betrothed included,” Nena said mysteriously.

  “Taryn? Why would she come to see you?” Rhoane’s insides flipped at the mention of her name. He couldn’t imagine Taryn inside Nena’s room, not without blushing rose red, at least.

  “Not me—one of my best artists, Armando. Before you get the wrong idea, she came here for the same reason you visit. For information. As you know, Armando was a favorite of a certain someone you are close to. She may or may not inherit the Light Throne.”

  Nena gasped, putting a hand to her lips. “Did I say that out loud? Naughty Nena. Perhaps you should spank me.”

  Rhoane ignored Nena’s taunt. “What information was Taryn after?”

  “I don’t know, but whatever it was, she didn’t get it. She and Tarro were only in Armando’s room for a few minutes. He would never betray the house rules or share anything discussed between the sheets. Believe me, we hear everything.”

  “That is why I come to see you. Who else has been here? You said many visitors.” Rhoane tamped down his frustration at her playfulness.

  “Don’t rush me. Well, the empress herself stopped by. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a social call.” Nena touched her lips. “I actually miss her visits.”

  “Nena, please. I do not need to know any of this. Why are you purposely toying with me?”

  “Rhoane, darling, don’t tease. You know I’d love to toy with you, but now that I’ve seen your lovely betrothed, I can understand why you would follow that horrid Eleri edict that says you must mate for life. Still, if you ever feel you’d like to learn a few things, bring her to Nena. I can show you both ways to find pleasure you’d never think of on your own.”

  She dreamily touched the lace on her chemise and Rhoane cleared his throat. “Where was I? Oh yes, we had another visitor, and this one you might find most interesting. Lord Zakael. Seems he needs to find himself a Shadow Assassin and thought this would be a good place to get information. Who do you think told him to come here?”

  Rhoane knew exactly who. “Did Zakael say why he was looking for him?”

  Nena shook her head and several curls loosened from their pins. They fell around her face, making an auburn frame against her olive skin. Her jade eyes regarded him for a moment. “I can’t be certain, but I think he wants to make the assassin a deal. Not to kill the girl, but kidnap her. For what, I can’t say.”

  She shrugged. “That’s all I know.” She patted his shoulder in a maternal, nonsexual way. “Be careful, my prince. You know I’ve always loved you and so I will tell you this—if Zakael wishes to find this assassin, your princess is in trouble.”

  “That is nothing new with Taryn, but I thank you for your concern. If you will excuse me, I must hurry or I will be the one in trouble.” He kissed her cheek and jumped away before she could grab him.

  “You Eleri! Always the most beautiful are denied to Nena. Remember what I said—bring your Taryn to me. You won’t regret it.” Nena turned away for a moment and Rhoane slipped from the room before she saw where he’d gone. Her curses followed him as he leapt from limb to limb of the giant tree that shaded the front of the house.

  When Rhoane arrived at the palace gatehouse, he put a finger to his lips. “My return is a surprise for the princess. Please do not tell the empress or any of the others, lest they ruin it.”

  The guard grinned at him. “’Tis a happy night for Her Highness. She’ll be most glad to share it with you.”

  Music drifted from the garden, indicating the party had started. He raced to his rooms, startling Alasdair with his entry. As he prepared for the grand ball, his valet brought him up to date on everything that happened since his departure, including the clandestine meetings Taryn and the others had.

  At the mention of the woodland faerie, Alasdair’s lips tightened to a hard line. The lad avoided Alasdair, for reasons he couldn’t understand. Rhoane could guess at the reasoning but withheld his opinion until he could discuss the matter with Taryn. That she’d brought a faerie to Talaith was alarming in and of itself.

  Rhoane settled his nerves with a shot of dreem. He fidgeted with the tops of his Eleri boots, folding them over the tight leather pants he wore, then pressing them against his thigh only to fold them once more. When he’d worried his boots enough, he fumbled with the collar of his silk court tunic, plucking at an invisible thread. The clothing felt strange to him, soft and too fine. He’d worn spun wool and rough cotton garments to authenticate his disguise, but the truth be told, he was happy to be rid of them.

  “She will not care what you wear, my lord,” Alasdair’s lyrical voice said from behind him. “For she will not be looking at your clothing, but into your heart.”

  “It has been many moonturns since we have seen each other. I fear she has forgotten my face. Tell me true, how does she fare?”

  Alasdair was tall for a woodland faerie, matching Taryn’s height. He straightened his shoulders with a toss of his long black hair. “She takes up the sword each day and trains like a true Eleri warrior. Yet her heart is missing a crucial element. I am afraid she fades, my lord.”

  “No.” Rhoane insisted. “She is not one to fade. I will not allow it.”

  Taryn wasn’t in her rooms as he’d hoped. Their reunion was meant to be private, but he’d been delayed and the stop at Nena’s further prolonged his return. Ellie’s behavior intrigued him and when she refused to let him into the apartment, his suspicions were aroused that Taryn had found a new lover to replace him.

  This thought, above all, tormented him the most. He knew it was based on fear with no validity, but Ellie’s actions caused him no small amount of alarm.

  “Let him in, you fool,” Lorilee ordered from the sitting room.

  Ellie opened the door, her eyes downcast.

  “Surely there is no reason I am not welcome here?”

  She gasped and shook her head. “No, my lord. It’s just—” Her gaze traveled to the couch, where Saeko sat with a boy huddled in her arms.

  From what Rhoane could see, his entire body trembled. “Who is this?” he asked as he knelt in front of the lad. “I am Rhoane. Are you a friend of Taryn’s?”

  The lad unfolded himself from the maid’s protective arms and bowed with one leg extended, his left arm out to the side. He was Taryn’s woodland faerie, not a boy at all.

  “What is your name?”

  “His name’s Gian, but he doesn’t speak, Your Highness.” Lorilee’s fingers flew in rapid movements and Gian nodded, pointing to Rhoane. “He says he is pleased to meet the beloved of his savior.”

  Rhoane stretched his thoughts and touched the lad’s mind as was traditional. What he glimpsed in that moment of connection was enough to assure Gian no harm would come to him.

  He hastily put up wards and warnings around Taryn’s rooms, the whole time telling Gian he was safe. The faerie trembled, just from knowing Zakael and Valterys were near.

  Kaida snuggled beside Gian, laying her head in his lap, a comforting protection Rhoane couldn’t give.

  Gian’s presence unsettled Rhoane. Not because he was a handsome young man staying with his betrothed, but he wondered again what sort of hell Taryn must’ve been through in his absence. The sheer horror Gian showed him sickened and disgusted him. If Lliandra had known what this young man had suffered at the hands of her past lovers, surely she’d not let them in the palace doors. But of course she would. Politics always came first for the empress.

  His heart thrummed against his chest as he made his way down the stairs to the garden. It had been too long since he’d seen his betrothed. Their last parting was melancholy, to say the least. He approached the open doors that led to the lower garden, catching sight of Taryn. A swell of urgency caught him off guard. He leaned against a wall until his breathing calmed and his ears no longer pounded with the sound of his rushing blood.

  All tho
ught of what he’d say faded when he saw her face. Even lovelier than he remembered, she stood facing him, but was looking at someone to her left. Sabina and Hayden hovered close on either side of her, the Summerlands princess a dark contrast to the delicate beauty of his love. Candlelight danced along her silvery hair, catching in the crown that rested on her head. The diamonds shone like sunbursts in a field of stars. Tiny rays of light reflected off the gems woven into her white gown. She looked every inch the goddess she would one day become.

  He opened himself to her and the emotions cascaded around him. Her outward controlled composure hid an undercurrent of anxiety. She laughed at what the gentleman next to her said, but was not truly listening. Her mind was distracted by thoughts of her missing betrothed. She mistook his absence as abandonment.

  Guilt cut through him as surely as if it were an assassin’s blade. He thought he was helping by leaving Talaith and yet his departure had broken her spirit nearly as thoroughly as his had been.

  She turned and for one terrible moment, he saw her heartbreak etched clearly in her features. Her eyes, once so beautiful and blue and vibrant, were dull in her pale face. Even her Glamour was muted beneath her skin. Her gaze fixed on him with a questioning look crossing her features, as if she thought she saw a figment of her own making.

  Then her smile, shy and unsure, beckoned him forth.

  Chapter 43

  TARYN couldn’t believe what she saw. Rhoane stood in the doorway, leaning casually against a wall, watching her with a puzzled look. Sound evaporated and nothing existed except Rhoane.

  He took a few steps toward her, then faltered. His brow pinched, a pained expression crossing his face, questioning. She moved and with that slight step, his body rocked forward. Then he was there, standing before her.

  Words and thought deserted her; even her body seemed to be on the brink of shutting down. Nothing worked the way it should. Her legs wobbled as if made of jelly; her hands stayed limp at her sides. She’d thought of this moment since she left the vier. Now that it had arrived, she found herself quite unprepared.