Alluria traced the line of his jaw. “If it’s not safe for me, how can it be safe for you? Am I only to be your mate for one night?”
Caol’nir tightened his embrace. “Nalla, you’re mine for eternity. This resistance is in the north, near the elves. It would be foolish to attempt the journey before the spring thaw. I won’t depart for a moon, perhaps two.”
“It is not you departing that worries me, but whether you will return.”
“I will,” Caol’nir promised. “Nothing will keep me from you.”
“Swear to be back by midsummer,” she implored. “No, the first day of summer. I cannot be parted from you longer than that.”
“I’ll return long before if I can,” he said as he kissed his mate, thus sealing the vow.
“Am I to assume that our seclusion will not be longer than one moon?” Alluria inquired, and Caol’nir grinned. He had all but forgotten the custom of seclusion, where a newly bound pair hides themselves away from the world, ensconced in their love and nothing more.
“I must speak with my father today,” he replied, “and then I will arrange for our undisturbed time together.” He nibbled her neck, his words muffled as he continued. “Of course, we cannot leave our bed until we have greeted the child sun together. How will we pass the time until second dawn?”
Alluria laughed as she twined her arms around his neck.
###
Shortly after the child sun rose, the pair left the warm furs and made their way to the Prelate’s chamber. They found Tor conferring with Fiornacht over a document, but the sight of Caol’nir and Alluria together made the men forget the parchment.
“What have you done? You’ve finally disgraced us all,” Fiornacht said.
“I’ve disgraced no one,” Caol’nir replied. “Alluria and I—”
“Have come to beg Father’s protection,” Fiornacht interrupted.
“Silence, Fiornacht; you’ve come begging for my help often enough,” Tor interjected, stunning Caol’nir into silence. Fiornacht, sufficiently abashed, stormed to the far corner of the room. Caol’nir turned to his father, intending to tell him of his and Alluria’s binding, but Tor’s harsh gaze silenced him. While Tor was not as tall or broad as Caol’nir, one did not hold the title of Prelate without learning to intimidate.
“You weren’t seen in the temple for some time, Alluria,” Tor stated. Alluria began explaining, but Tor ignored her. “And you,” he continued, turning to Caol’nir, “have been gone from Teg’urnan for days without my authority. Apparently you only deigned to tell Caol’non of your little journey.” Tor leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingertips together. “I want a full accounting of your whereabouts, both together and apart.”
“We weren’t together, not until yesterday,” Caol’nir said. “I followed the king when he left Teg’urnan—”
“And I had entered the vaults, by leave of Sarelle,” interjected Alluria. Tor cast a stern glance toward the priestess, then he addressed his son.
“You followed the king because of what Rahlle told you?” Tor asked.
“Yes.”
“Well? Is the sorcerer as mad as I thought?”
“I saw the king meet with the mordeth-gall.”
“The royal guard engaged him in battle?” Tor demanded.
“No. The king and the mordeth-gall greeted each other as old friends would and spent the evening in the royal tent.” Caol’nir waited for their reaction, expecting his father and brother to leap to the king’s defense. Instead, they shared a knowing glance, and Fiornacht retrieved a map. He unrolled it across the desk and beckoned Caol’nir to examine it along with him.
“We have heard reports—all unconfirmed, mind you—of pureblood fae being captured as slaves,” Fiornacht explained. He indicated several points on the map, which Caol’nir recognized as legion outposts. “We have sent squads to investigate these sites but each was found destroyed. All they have found are burned out structures and corpses.”
“Slaves?” Alluria asked. “Who would enslave us in our own land?”
“I don’t know,” Tor replied, “but I mean to find out.”
“The king knows; it’s why he was meeting with Ehkron,” Caol’nir said, giving voice to what Tor and Fiornacht had suspected for some time. He was silent for a moment, regarding his father before he continued. “There is a resistance, in the north. They believe the king has been corrupted.”
“Yes, I know,” Tor said, “Rahlle informed me. It’s led by an escaped slave.”
“I mean to go north and learn what this resistance is about,” Caol’nir stated. Tor and Fiornacht shared an uneasy glance, which irritated Caol’nir. He was ever the little brother, having been born the day after Caol’non. He used to take advantage of other’s low opinion of him, shirking his duties as a silent protest of his life in the con’dehr.
No longer would he look the other way, not now that he was tasked with keeping Alluria safe. “Someone needs to learn more of what’s going on, especially if you believe we are being enslaved,” Caol’nir said. “We cannot go to the king since he is involve—”
“You do not know—” interrupted Fiornacht.
“I know what I saw,” Caol’nir shouted. “What reason would the king have to meet with Ehkron?” Fiornacht held his tongue, and Caol’nir continued. “With your leave, Father, I’ll go after the thaw.”
Alluria looked away, flinching when he said ‘alone.’ Caol’nir turned to Alluria and murmured a few soothing words.
“Why do the two of you come before me now?” Tor asked. “Surely, Caol’nir, you didn’t need to bring a priestess when you informed me of this.”
Caol’nir placed his hand on Alluria’s shoulder, and she covered it with her own. “Alluria has bound herself to me. We are mated.”
“That’s not possible,” Fiornacht shouted, leaping to his feet. Caol’nir also stood, but it was Alluria’s calm voice that gained the Prelate’s attention.
“It is more than possible,” Alluria said, “it has come to pass. I went into the vaults for this reason alone, to find a way to be honorably released from my vows. Caol’nir challenged Olluhm for me, and he won.”
“It cannot be,” Fiornacht muttered.
“Can’t it?” Tor asked. “What is less believable, our king breaking bread with the mordeth-gall or Olluhm allowing Alluria her freedom? It seems that both are possible.” Fiornacht grumbled, but Tor ignored him as he watched his son and his mate.
“The morning after your binding you came to speak with me?” Tor asked, drawing Caol’nir’s attention away from Alluria. “Your mother and I weren’t seen for a full moon after we were bound.”
“My lord, you needed to know of my whereabouts, and this resistance, and—” Caol’nir fell silent as Tor held up his hand, the he rose walked around his desk. He leaned against it as he regarded the pair before him.
“When did you begin to address me as ‘my lord’, rather than ‘father’?” Tor asked with a wry grin.
“When I thought you would be angry with me for my transgressions,” Caol’nir replied.
“You, daughter, are not to refer to me as your lord, either,” Tor said to Alluria, who offered a small smile. “I will see to procuring a proper chamber for the two of you.”
“But I like Caol’nir’s room,” Alluria said. “I’ve become accustomed to it.” A smug grin spread across Fiornacht’s face, and Alluria looked away. Now, they all knew that when Caol’nir was charged with finding Alluria a room, he looked no further than his own.
“Nevertheless, my dear, it is not suitable for a bound pair,” Tor continued. “What if you were to have children?” Alluria blushed at his suggestion. “And, may I ask, will you still work in the temple?”
“I-I don’t know,” Alluria stammered in reply. “I will need to speak with Sarelle, and learn if she still has need of me.”
“Would you like me to speak on your behalf?” Tor offered.
“No, thank you,” Alluria replied. “The High
Priestess knew it was my intention to renounce my vows. She will want to learn of the outcome. The wonderful outcome,” she added.
“Very well,” Tor stated. “However, I forbid you to speak with her for the next moon.” Tor laughed at their shocked faces. “Do you young ones not understand the concept of seclusion?”
Alluria’s cheeks darkened as Caol’nir objected, sputtering that they needed to discuss the resistance, and the king’s meeting with the mordeth-gall, when Tor silenced them. “That all can wait. I’ve always believed that duty to your mate comes before all else, even duty to your king.” Tor stepped forward and took Alluria’s hands. “My son challenged a god for your heart?”
“Yes,” she replied. “And I gave it to him freely.”
“I have no doubt,” he said softly. “Now, off with you both. I don’t want to see either of you until your seclusion has ended.”
The pair thanked Tor and left the Prelate’s chamber for their much-anticipated time together. Once in the corridor Caol’nir swept Alluria into his arms; already, she had been too long from his embrace. The Prelate’s door opened again, then Caol’nir felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Brother,” Fiornacht said, “I…I am very happy for you.”
Caol’nir merely nodded—the pride in his brother’s tone was not something he was accustomed to—and led Alluria back to their chamber. He forced himself to forget about the king, forget about demons, slaves, and all the realm’s evils that could harm his beloved, and concentrated upon being her mate.
Chapter Sixteen
Caol’nir never realized what a short span of time a single moon encompassed, and his seclusion with Alluria ended all too quickly. The morning they returned to their regular lives found Alluria venturing to the Great Temple, a cloak over her sacred robes lest she offend Olluhm. While she was gone, Caol’nir busied himself with leatherworking.
“Were things well?” he asked when she returned. Alluria had wanted to speak with the High Priestess alone regarding her position in the temple, if such a position still existed. Caol’nir knew that Sarelle was reticent to trust those outside the temple; her distrust extended to the con’dehr, and she merely tolerated the Prelate.
“They were,” Alluria replied. “While Sarelle expressed her extreme displeasure over the abandonment of my calling,” Alluria paused to roll her eyes, “she did admit that my knowledge of flora is without equal. She asked me to remain as the temple’s herbalist.” Caol’nir had risen while Alluria spoke and wrapped his arms about her, kissing her as if she’d been gone much longer than half a day. “Thank you for sending your brother to guard me.”
“He was supposed to remain unobtrusive.”
“You think I would not notice a man that looks exactly like my mate?” Alluria freed herself from his arms and held out a dark green garment. “I even have a proper herbalist’s robe.”
Caol’nir felt the fabric between his thumb and forefinger; the weave was tight, and it would take a seam well. “Will you put it on for me?” he asked.
“Um, certainly,” Alluria replied, then she exchanged her usual blue robe for her new herbalist’s garb.
“Do you like it?” she asked, twirling her skirts while she fluttered her eyelashes. The dress was loose, cinched at her waist with a gold brocade belt. Matching brocade edged the bodice and hem, and over the dress she wore a loose robe of the same green fabric.
“You are lovely as ever,” Caol’nir replied, sliding his hands about her waist. “This dress only pulls over your head?” he asked, feeling the belt.
“Looking to disrobe me already?” Alluria asked coyly. Caol’nir smiled as he grazed his hands across her back, confirming that there were no other fastenings. He kissed her again, then released her as he retrieved the leather he’d left in his chair.
“I made this for you,” he said as he buckled a weapon belt, complete with a dagger the length of her forearm, around her hips. “I meant for you to wear it inside your robe, so you could carry it unawares, but that won’t work with this dress. Although…” his voice trailed off as he ran his fingers across the edges of her belt. “Can you get more of these dresses?”
“I believe there are many in the storeroom,” Alluria replied. “What are you planning?”
“I can make the dress into two pieces, and you can carry the dagger in secrecy,” Caol’nir answered as he sat, drawing Alluria onto his lap. “Or, perhaps I can add a pocket for the dagger.”
“My warrior knows how to sew?” Alluria asked with a raised brow.
“Father believed we should be self-sufficient,” he replied. “He would say, ‘What if you were stranded, and needed to mend your gear?’ And so my brothers and I were taught the art of the needle, by one frustrated nursemaid after another.”
Alluria was silent for a moment before she continued, “When I asked what you were planning, I meant why are you putting this dagger on me?”
“I want you able to protect yourself while I’m gone,” he said. “My father and brothers will watch over you, of course, but I want an extra bit of assurance that you’ll be safe.”
“I thought you weren’t leaving before the thaw,” Alluria said.
“I won’t,” he said. “I swear I’ll return as soon as I’m able, and from then on you’ll have to suffer my endless presence.” She smiled, but her eyes remained somber. “Nalla, I only made it now to test the fit, and now I know I need to work on your pretty green dresses.”
“I don’t know how to use a dagger.”
“I’ll teach you.”
Alluria nestled into his arms. “I wish you weren’t going.”
He kissed her forehead. “So do I.”
They held each other for a time, staring into the flames, until Alluria remembered something. “I found the king’s doorway.”
“Alluria, I asked you not to involve yourself,” Caol’nir said. “I don’t want any suspicion to fall on you while I’m away and can’t protect you. It would kill me if anything happened to you.”
“Then you should stay here and watch my every move.”
“Nalla,” he began, but she waved away his words.
“Well, I found it nonetheless. It’s between the northern door and the statue of Olluhm. The statue casts a shadow over the doorway, making it nigh invisible. On the exterior of the temple, it is covered by a tapestry.” She laughed shortly. “The tapestry is of our mighty king driving the demons away from Teg’urnan.”
“Can you seal the door?” Caol’nir asked, to which Alluria nodded. “Will anyone know it was you who did so?”
“No,” she replied. “I can bind the opening with a poultice of strangleweed, hide it behind the tapestry. Like as not, no one will look for a few leaves. There are advantages to being a master herbalist.”
Caol’nir kissed the hollow of her throat. “Always keeping your sisters safe.”
“Oh, I’ve something else to keep them safe,” she said, and leaned forward to retrieve her blue robe.
“Get back here,” Caol’nir said as he grabbed her hips, and Alluria laughed as her mate yanked her onto his lap. “You’re not to leave my arms.” While he nuzzled her neck, she produced a small leather pouch.
“For you.” Alluria placed a shiny white stone in Caol’nir’s hand. “This stone is charmed against the spell Sarelle places on the temple doors every night. With it, you can unseal the doors, should you need to.”
Caol’nir turned the stone over in his hand. To him, it looked like one he would skip across a lake. “Does anyone know you’ve taken it?”
“No, because I made it,” Alluria replied. “It is not so hard, once you know the spell she uses for sealing them.”
“Is there anything you cannot do?” He pulled the clasp from her hair and let her chestnut waves fall about her face. “Magic must course through your veins.” He kissed the pulse in her neck.
“Unfortunately, I’m limited to charming stones and lighting candles,” she said. “I wish I could uncover what the king was truly doing.
Then you and your father could stop him.” Alluria shuddered and burrowed further into Caol’nir’s embrace. “The notion of faeries being enslaved…it chills me.”
“I know,” he said as he smoothed her hair, “I know.”
###
The thaw came, as did the day Caol’nir left for the north. While Alluria said nothing as she helped Caol’nir pack, her sorrow was plain. They walked slowly toward the palace gates, Caol’nir leading his horse with one hand while the other rested on Alluria’s waist.
“Do you know how much I’ll miss you?” Caol’nir said against Alluria’s hair. They stopped to let a merchant’s cart pass, and he took the opportunity to kiss her temple.
“I can imagine,” Alluria replied. Instead of her herbalist’s robes, she was clad in a simple blue dress, her hair loose about her shoulders. As she leaned against Caol’nir, she wondered if anyone recognized her as a former priestess. The cart passed and they resumed walking, neither spoke until they reached the shadow of the stag’s antlers, eternally frozen as he made his mighty leap across the gates.
“Two winters ago, I saw these gates for the first time,” Alluria said. “I didn’t pass under these gates again until one winter passed, when a young warrior dressed me as a saffira and spirited me away on his horse.” Alluria turned to her mate and smiled, but her eyes were sad. “And now you pass under them again, and I remain behind.”
Caol’nir pulled her against him and buried his face in her hair. “Mea nalla, you know my heart will remain here with you.”
Alluria nodded; she had wanted to be strong for him, to make his departure as easy as possible, but the thought of facing the next moons without him was devastating.
Caol’nir understood all too well; he remembered well how hard it was to spend seven days without Alluria. Now that she was his mate—against all odds, she was finally his—he was leaving her. Many times, he had wanted to request his father send someone else north for recognizance, some trusted member of the con’dehr, but this could not be done. The fact that the Prelate and his sons knew of a resistance and had not told the king was treason. Anyone they sent to the north would be also guilty. Moreover, what if this individual went to the king and spoke against Caol’nir’s entire family? No, better that he went himself.
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