Heir to the Sun

by Jennifer Allis Provost

  Alluria unfolded the bundle and spread the contents across her table, and her smile became a frown. The herbs Caol’nir brought were not what she requested. She wasn’t angry, for many herbs had similar names and appearances, but she was frustrated. Before she and her sister priestesses, Alyon and Atreynha, had been forcibly relocated to Teg’urnan, she had always gathered her own herbs and was certain she had the correct ingredients for her pastes and poultices.

  Those days were now in the past, for good King Sahlgren had decreed that it was unsafe for priestesses to roam the land. He had brought them all to the Great Temple in Teg’urnan on the pretense of protection; the king had gone so far as to make it a law of the realm. When Alluria first learned of the new law she scoffed. What sort of roaming did the king think went on in the outlying temples? To add further insult, priests were allowed to remain at their temples. The obvious inequity only added to Alluria’s anger. Atreynha had barely managed to calm her before Tor, Caol’nir’s father, arrived at their little temple and bore them away. She wondered if she would ever see her home again.

  She picked through the plants and verified that none were of any use to her. Alluria contemplated asking one of the other priestesses if they had what she required, but changed her mind as Caol’nir’s face returned to her thoughts. If she explained, very carefully, what she needed she was sure he would obtain them for her. With that, she rolled up the bundle and set out to find her favorite guard.

  ###

  After leaving the temple, Caol’nir joined his twin brother, Caol’non, and their eldest brother, Fiornacht, who also served as their father’s second, in the lesser hall for their morning meal. The three had just gotten their plates when Alluria entered the hall, unescorted and in direct violation of the king’s most recent edict: any priestess who ventured forth from the Great Temple was to be accompanied by a con’dehr at all times. Caol’nir’s gaze instantly went to the priestess, much to his brother’s annoyance.

  “Stop staring,” growled Fiornacht. “Others are noticing your obsession.”

  “I’m not obsessed,” he retorted. “I’m a guard, and I guard her. That’s the end of it.” Caol’nir would have said more but, much to the surprise of the brothers, Alluria approached their table. The three of them stood and bowed their heads in greeting.

  “You may sit,” she said, her voice like chimes on the wind. They sat, and Alluria turned her attention to Caol’nir. “Warrior, may I speak with you about these wretched herbs?” she asked, indicating the bundle he had given her in the temple.

  “Of course, my lady,” he replied. As he stood Fiornacht grabbed his arm, his eyes silently reminding his younger brother of the penalties for associating with the god’s women. Caol’nir glared at him in return, and muttered, “I know my place.”

  “See that you keep it,” Fiornacht hissed. Caol’nir scowled at his brother, then he followed Alluria into the corridor.

  “These are all wrong,” she declared once they were alone. Alluria tried explaining the differences between what he had brought her and what she actually wanted, but each word confused Caol’nir more than the last.

  “My lady, I wish I understood you, but my skill lies in swordplay, not with sticks and leaves,” he said. “Let me speak to one of the healers, or maybe the saffira; perhaps they will be able to help you.” She nodded, and pursed her lips. “You don’t like that solution?”

  “What? Oh, no, it is fine,” Alluria replied, not wanting Caol’nir to think that he was the cause of her exasperation. He was the only person helping her keep her sanity. “It’s just frustrating to have to send someone else, and a warrior at that, when I once obtained my supplies on my own.”

  “I cannot picture you frequenting the apothecary,” Caol’nir said, recalling the dark, stinking hovel he had visited.

  “I frequented no such place,” Alluria huffed. “I gathered them myself. It takes many years of study to become as adept as I.” She went on, detailing the minute differences of each petal she had committed to memory, when Caol’nir formed a plan.

  “Do these plants you require grow near the palace?”

  “Why, yes,” she said. “I believe they do.”

  “What if I could help you gather them yourself?” Caol’nir asked quietly.

  “I…I would appreciate that,” Alluria replied. Caol’nir smiled, and beckoned her to follow him. They made their way far from the hall and deep into the living quarters of the palace where Caol’nir opened an unmarked door and led Alluria into a small chamber.

  “Wait here,” Caol’nir said.

  “What is this room?” she asked as she stepped across the threshold.

  “It’s my chamber,” he replied. “Now be silent, and I’ll return in a moment.”

  ###

  With that, Caol’nir shut the door and left Alluria alone. She stared at the door, unsure how she had managed to get herself into such an improper situation. First, she invited a man to kiss her, now she was standing in his bedchamber, and all of it before noon. She covered her face with her hands, knowing that she would have to beg for her life, and Caol’nir’s, if word of this spread through the palace.

  She decided that what was done was done, and looked around Caol’nir’s room. As inappropriate as it might be, she was curious about how her guard lived. Several swords leaned against a corner, and daggers and knives were spread upon a nearby table. He was, after all, a warrior, and only the best gained admittance to the con’dehr. The fact that he, his father, and his brothers were all members of the guard was a testament to their strong bloodline, rumored to reach back to Solon himself. Alluria traced the hilt of a sword with her slender fingers as she imagined Caol’nir wielding the weapon, only to feel her cheeks flush when she realized that, in her mind’s eye, he was shirtless.

  Alluria dropped her hand as her gaze moved about the room. Much to her surprise, she saw that it was an orderly, well-kept space. Colorful tapestries hung on two of the walls, and tall windows let in vast amounts of sunlight. A set of chairs was arranged before the hearth, and the bed was piled high with furs and cushions. She approached his bed and tentatively stroked furs, noting that they were easily as fine as her own. She’d always imagined the guards sleeping on heaps of raw hides, nothing like this sumptuous pile of softness and comfort. Alluria sat on the edge of Caol’nir’s bed, at once excited and ashamed by the small thrill that coursed through her.

  ###

  Caol’nir reentered his chamber, halting at the sight of Alluria on his bed. His voice caught in his throat, which was for the best. He couldn’t be sure that the words would have been appropriate for a priestess’s ears.

  “I never imagined a warrior would recline in such comfort,” Alluria said as she rose. Caol’nir regained some semblance of himself and approached Alluria, holding out a roughly woven dress. “What’s this for?”

  “It’s a scullion’s dress,” he replied. “If you’re dressed as one of the saffira, I can bring you outside the walls, and you may gather your own herbs.”

  Alluria stared from the dress to his face, her offense that he expected her to don such a common garment quickly giving way to amazement. “It’s forbidden for me to leave the palace,” she said. “You can be put to death for the mere suggestion.”

  “It’s not forbidden for the saffira to leave the palace,” he corrected, “and I assure you, I’m well aware of the penalties for my actions. I only thought that it would be easier for you to pick the herbs yourself, rather than send me back and forth.”

  Alluria regarded him as her brows knit together, then dropped her gaze and fingered the edge of the dress. “I cannot ask this of you,” she murmured. “The danger is too great.”

  “You didn’t ask me,” he reminded her. “I give you my word that no one but you or I will ever know of this. However, if you would prefer not to go, I understand. I will escort you to the temple and never mention it again.”

  Alluria stole a glance at his face, handsome and guileless, and considered
his offer. She knew that Caol’nir was trustworthy; moreover, she knew he was only trying to help. Alluria sighed again, and placed herself in her guard’s hands. “I do miss being outside.” She ran her hands over the coarse fabric before holding it at arm’s length to assess the fit. “Where did you get this?”

  “The laundry, where else?” he replied with an innocent smile. He indicated an alcove, and said, “I’ll wait in the corridor while you change.”

  “You don’t need to leave,” she stated matter-of-factly, “just turn your back.”

  Caol’nir turned to face the door, the rustling of her robes nearly drive him mad. In one day, he had kissed a priestess, seen her on his bed, and now she was naked in his chamber. If he was not put to death for his actions, surely his heart would beat a hole his chest and kill him regardless.

  “Um…I don’t think it fits.”

  He turned back to Alluria and marveled that she would be beautiful no matter what she wore. The dress consisted of a dark green blouse and skirt, cinched at the waist with a brown belt. It was cut close to her body, unlike the loose blue robes of a priestess she typically wore.

  “That’s how it’s supposed to fit,” Caol’nir affirmed, watching her tug at the tight bodice. He handed Alluria the soft leather shoes he remembered to snatch, for priestesses always went about barefoot, laughing as she awkwardly put them on.

  “It is not funny,” she scolded, “I haven’t worn shoes in many winters.” She straightened herself, and smiled as she dipped into a curtsey. “Well? Am I fit to scrub floors?”

  “You surely are,” he replied. Caol’nir drank in the sight of her, until his gaze settled on her bracelets. Alluria wore a golden cuff on each wrist, one set with a moonstone and the other with amber, and a jeweled clasp in her hair.

  “My lady,” he began, as he took her wrist and removed the amber cuff, “forgive me, but saffira wear no such finery.” He set the cuffs upon the ledge above the hearth, and reached for her hair. “And they do not restrain their hair with adornments fit for a queen.” He slid the clasp free, and her hair fell in shining chestnut waves.

  “Those ‘adornments’ are markers of my rank and skill as a priestess,” she said by way of protest.

  “This morning you’re a not a priestess,” Caol’nir reminded her with a grin. He led her into the corridor, stopping to grab his cloak on his way out the door; a priestess with a sunburned nose would surely be noticed. When they reached the stables Caol’nir requested two horses. When their mounts arrived, a dark stallion for Caol’nir and a dun palfrey for the lady, Alluria recoiled at the sight of them.

  “What do you expect me to do with this beast?” she asked as she glared at the palfrey’s hooves.

  “Ride it,” Caol’nir replied, then he remembered that priestesses were carried everywhere in litters. “You’ve never ridden a horse, have you?”

  “No,” she replied, “nor do I wish to.”

  With a mumbled apology, Caol’nir handed the reins of the palfrey to the groom. “Well, then, you can ride this one with me.” She protested, but he held up his hand. “How else are we to get past the gates?” he whispered, and she nodded. He took a deep breath and placed his hands about her waist, trying not to notice her firm hips, and lifted her onto the saddle. He mounted up behind Alluria; no sooner was he seated than she leaned against him, avoiding contact with the horse as much as possible.

  “Pretend you’re shy, and hide your face against my neck.”

  “I am shy,” she corrected. “We are trained to be demure.”

  “I disagree, my lady,” he said, a smile creeping across his lips. “Remember, you disrobed in my chamber and wouldn’t let me leave the room.”

  Her cheeks were crimson as she glared at him, but before she could respond the horse stepped forward. Alluria threw her arms about Caol’nir’s waist, her frightened yelp muffled by his chest. He tried not to laugh, and draped his arm around her waist. No one paid them any heed until they reached the gate, when the guard inquired where Caol’nir was off to.

  “She wants to pick some flowers,” Caol’nir replied with a nod toward his passenger. “How could I refuse?”

  “Flowers, eh?” the guard called back. “If she gets any closer on that saddle, she’ll be behind you.”

  “That’s the idea,” Caol’nir answered with a wink. The guard cackled as they passed underneath the gate, and once again Alluria glared at her companion.

  “Do you often ride off with one of the saffira? For flower picking?” she asked icily. Caol’nir looked down at her, enjoying her jealous tone.

  “My lady, you are the first maiden I’ve even taken outside the walls,” he proclaimed. “Now, hold on to me.”

  Caol’nir urged the horse to a trot as Alluria clutched his jerkin. Once they were a short distance outside the walls, Alluria stole a glance toward the palace. “I cannot believe your plan worked.”

  “Neither can I,” Caol’nir replied.

  They rode past the foothills toward the eastern forests, stopping at meadow that Alluria claimed might have the herbs she sought. Once Caol’nir dismounted he reached up to help Alluria from the saddle. She stumbled when her feet touched the ground, and caught herself against his chest.

  “The shoes,” she explained, “I’m not used to them.”

  “Of course. The shoes.” Caol’nir kept his hands about her waist as she steadied herself. Alluria raised her head, and he realized that she was tall for a woman, nearly his own height. He only needed to lean forward to brush her lips with his…

  Caol’nir dropped his hands, knowing that it was his duty to keep her body and her virtue intact from all predators, including himself. Alluria didn’t notice his inner struggle as she smiled, then stretched her arms up to the sky. Caol’nir thought she was a vision as she spun about, her skirts twirling about her legs.

  “It’s been so long since I was outside,” she said, “I was suffocating inside those stone walls.”

  “I’ll wait here,” Caol’nir sat against a tree trunk, intending to take a nap in the shade.

  Alluria grabbed his hand. “Oh no you don’t,” she said, pulling him toward the meadow. “Come, warrior, you will help me find my herbs.” Caol’nir smiled, and followed.

  They nosed about the field for the better part of the morning as Alluria taught Caol’nir the differences between this herb and that, until he felt like an herbalist himself. Once they had gathered a small mountain of plants Alluria spread his cloak out flat, and set about organizing the herbs into neat little piles.

  “What made you want a life in the temple?” Caol’nir asked. Alluria looked at him quizzically, so he elaborated. “You have such a talent with plants. I would think you’d want to work as an herbalist.”

  “I was born in my little temple,” she replied, “and, being that I had no parents to care for me, I was raised by the priestesses. Once I grew to womanhood, I took my vows, as was expected of me.”

  “That sounds like life in the con’dehr,” Caol’nir said. “From the time I could hold a sword I’ve been trained to serve the king. It’s what my family has always done; you can trace our bloodline back to the very origins of Parthalan, all the way to Solon.” All of Parthalan knew the legend well, that in their hour of need Solon had descended from the skies to defend his brethren and became the fae’s first warrior.

  “I’ve wondered if that tale was true,” Alluria said.

  “It is,” he replied. “At least, according to my father.” Alluria glanced up from her work and noted his wistful face.

  “You desired another life?” she asked.

  “To serve the king is a noble calling, one that I am grateful to have,” he recited as if the words had been memorized long ago. “But to spend one’s days wielding a sword, killing the vermin that encroach upon our borders…it’s an empty life.”

  “Then tell me what a warrior would do with his life, if only he was given the chance?”

  “He would take a mate, give her many children, and li
ve out his days in happiness.”

  “I miss the children from my temple,” Alluria said. “There were always so many running about, playing and laughing.” She laughed shortly. “No one laughs in this prison of a temple where I am now forced to reside.”

  “You don’t like living in Teg’urnan?” Caol’nir asked.

  “I do not,” she replied. “I hate being confined inside, surrounded by that horrendous cold stone and by pompous nobles who think the priesthood exists only to send their every vain request to the gods. Why anyone would desire to be here is a mystery to me.” Alluria went on to detail her many grievances concerning her relocation to the Great Temple, when she noticed that Caol’nir no longer met her eyes. “You’ve always lived in the palace, haven’t you?”

  “Nearly all my life,” he confirmed with a tight smile. “I spent a few winters at the Southern Border, but otherwise I’ve always been at Teg’urnan.”

  “Why did you go south?”

  “All of the con’dehr must first serve time in the legion, and that’s where Caol’non and I were sent.”

  “Did you enjoy it?” Alluria asked.

  “Mostly we just killed things.” Caol’nir stated. “The Southern Border is constantly assaulted by demons.” He was silent for a few moments as he studied the clouds overhead. “I’ve never been so miserable in my life; all the bloodshed, nothing but violence, so violent we hardly dared to sleep. Every time I woke, I was amazed to have survived the night.”

  “I’m glad you did,” Alluria said. Caol’nir’s eyes lit up as his grin returned.