Love is My Sin: Oathcursed, Book 2
Page 18
She turned down the corridor that led to Aran’s rooms. The two guards outside his door shifted nervously as she approached but they didn’t stand out of her way. The one on the left started to make the Ward but managed to stop himself. The one on the right took a deep breath and looked her straight in the face. A brave man, this one, as she’d expect from the personal guard to the king. She had no quarrel with him provided he let her through, so she made sure not to look him in the eyes, discomfort him more than he already was.
“You require an audience with the king?”
She didn’t trust her temper to let her speak so she nodded.
The guard bowed a little. “He’s expected a visit from you, or from him. My, er, my lady.” My lady. That almost made her laugh. But she could feel the nerves tighten in him. “He’ll be back shortly, I’m sure. If you’d like to wait? Only you must leave your weapon. I’ll keep it safe for you, but no weapons in the king’s chamber.”
She let out a sharp sigh of irritation, but it would be no different in many places. It wasn’t this man’s fault. There was a small alcove either side of the door, each set with a small pedestal topped with a statuette of some ancient duke or hero. After a moment she realised they were likenesses of Regin. She laid her knife against the foot of one of them and her mace next to it. “It was made by kyrbodans. I doubt you’d want to touch it.”
The guard looked grateful. “Thank you, my lady. You may enter.”
Hilde stepped through into a room sumptuously furnished in a rather spartan way. Bare floors of black basalt had been polished to a high shine, but no rugs softened the surface. A finely carved desk was piled high with papers and odd scraps of armour. Two leather-clad chairs stood in front of a good fire. Someone was sitting on one of them but Hilde couldn’t see who for a moment, until a woman stood to see who had entered. Nerinna, tear-stained and dishevelled, not at all the proud and graceful woman she’d been earlier.
The two women glared at each other. Maybe Valguard had brought Hunter to this, but Nerinna was the reason he had lost all hope, was looking forward to his own execution. This woman had taken his heart and played a game with it. Inconsequential to her, devastating to Hunter.
Nerinna glared back at her with ill-concealed hatred. Jealousy oozed from her every pore. Jealous of her, Hilde! This time she did laugh, and the tension of the past few hours escaped with each breath. It was ridiculous. Why would anyone be jealous of her?
Nerinna got to her feet, made a poor attempt at tidying herself and snapped, “What’s so funny?”
Hilde drowned the last few snorting giggles. “You are.”
“I see.” Nerinna arched an eyebrow. “Well I’m glad to see you’re enjoying this, this…” Her voice trailed off and she slumped into the chair with her head in her hands. This wasn’t what Hilde had expected from her. She had expected cool calculation not the sobs that made Nerinna’s whole body shake, not the feel of heartbroken sorrow, and the sense that Nerinna didn’t know how to deal with it, that she’d never had to deal with any emotion such as this. It was almost as if she were another woman.
Hilde slid into the chair next to her and Nerinna raised her head. “Oh gods, we have to stop it. We have to help him. Why aren’t you helping him? I thought you loved him!”
“You want to stop it? It’s your damn fault he’s sitting there, wanting to bloody die.”
“My fault?” Nerinna stood up and turned, her face twisted with jealous rage. “How is this my fault? He’s going to die, and I’d do anything to stop it. Anything, and I don’t even know why I feel like this. You don’t care though, do you? Or will it pain you that someone who’s pined after you so long will die? If he wants to die, it’s because of you.”
“Pined for me?” Hilde was utterly confused now. “What are you talking about?”
“He’s in love with you. I see the way he looks at you.”
“Wait a min—”
“I haven’t finished! I don’t know how long it’s been but he still loves you. He’s not even had a mistress in the time since you left him for that, that mage! You broke his heart and now you just want to dance back into his life and think all will be well? Well, it won’t. I won’t let you hurt him more than you have already. You can’t have them both.”
Hilde was stunned by the outburst, and more stunned when Nerinna came at her, nails extended for her eyes. Hilde grabbed her arm just in time. And that’s when she realised, when she felt what was behind the jealousy. Nerinna was heartbroken because she thought Hunter loved skinny little Hilde. Because he’d turned Nerinna down. Because she loved him. How had Hilde not seen it before? Nerinna sobbed and tried to get at her with her other hand, but Hilde stepped out of the way and grabbed both her arms.
“Stop it, stop. It’s not me.” Nerinna struggled and Hilde shook her, not too hard. “It’s not me he’s in love with. It never was.”
Nerinna struggled for a moment more before Hilde’s words seemed to sink in. She stopped trying to get at Hilde with her nails and stared at her with something like hope. “Not you?”
Hilde laughed softly and let go of her. “I wondered why in the world anyone would be jealous of me. I love him, like a brother maybe. He got that crippled arm trying to save me from myself. His was the first heart I ever felt. I love him as a friend, a very dear friend. That’s all. And he feels the same for me.”
“A friend?” Nerinna let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob. “Then why did he send me away? No one’s ever done that before. I thought it was because he was still in love with—who is she?”
“She was his best friend’s wife. He loved her very much, but she died just before the war.”
“Wife? But he said that husbands and wives don’t have affairs in Ganheim, or they shouldn’t. Or was it Aran’s mother? That was her, yes? I thought all that Valguard said was a lie, but…” She trailed off, a confused frown creasing her delicate forehead. Even like this she was more attractive than Hilde could ever hope for.
“Oh, he didn’t do anything about it. He just loved her, and was eaten up by guilt that he shouldn’t. Thought he’d be damned to the Dark for it. And thought it was his fault she died, that he should have been able to save her. I doubt he’s ever really got over that. As for why he sent you away, well you are going to marry his foster son. To a man like him that would have been the ultimate betrayal of Aran. I don’t think he could bear that.”
“I don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t suppose you do. The Gan are so very different to the Reethan, aren’t they? Ilfayne certainly is—he can never understand why people feel they have to keep their word, even when it means such misery. He has a lot of trouble with friendships too.”
Hilde’s stomach churned at the thought of Ilfayne, of his angry words. Sweat popped out all over her skin. The room blurred in front of her and Nerinna’s voice came from very far away. Her head grew tight and cold, but someone had lit a fire in her belly. She groped for the back of the chair but her hand met nothing but air and then the room slid away into blackness.
When she came to again she had a cracking headache, her stomach trembled and burned as though frightened and Nerinna was shaking her.
“Thank the gods. I wondered what had happened to you. Are you all right?” Nerinna helped her into a chair.
“Yes, yes I think so. I don’t know why that keeps happening.” Hilde wiped at the sweat on her face with a trembling hand. Something was wrong, something important—
“What can we do then?” Nerinna asked. “Is there any way we can save him?”
Hilde shook her head. “I don’t know. Ilfayne’s the only one who could overrule Valguard on this but he won’t help, I know that. I think it’s Valguard who’s tainted by Mithotyn, not Hunter. And Mithotyn has somehow fooled Oku into believing it.”
“Valguard tainted? Then that’s why he told Aran all those lies.”
“What lies?”
“He told Aran that Hunter was his father. But Ilfayne said
that was all rubbish. I know who I’d believe more, and it isn’t Valguard. Odious man.”
“If he said that, it most certainly is lies. I’m sure Valguard is behind all this. If only we could get at him somehow. Do you think he’d listen to Aran?”
“I doubt it, though Aran is trying to rally some support right now. We need Valguard to think we believe him, yes? There is one thing maybe I could try to persuade him.” Nerinna sounded very reluctant.
“What’s that?”
“I’d rather not say.” Nerinna looked down at the floor and a flush crept up her cheeks. “But I think it may work, at least to hold off the execution for a while. I don’t care what I have to do. As long as Hunter lives.”
Hilde reached out and took Nerinna’s hand in hers. “You love him, don’t you?”
Nerinna looked up, her eyes full of tears. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m not supposed to. My father said it makes rulers weak, that it leaves us open to treachery. That I should never allow myself to love any of them. But I do. He’s not like us, not like any of the Reethan men. I would do anything to have him live.”
It wouldn’t be as simple as that of course. Oku had told Valguard, told all three of them what they were supposed to be doing. Ilfayne would never risk going against him again, even if she was right and Mithotyn had worked something on Oku, fooled him into this belief. No more chances. No more chances for either of them, but she would be damned if she would let Hunter die for that.
Hilde turned to Nerinna. “There are two people who might help, if we can persuade them. Valguard and Aran.”
“Not Ilfayne? Valguard would have to do what he said, wouldn’t he?”
“He would, maybe—if Ilfayne would tell him. But he won’t.”
“You’re his wife, there are plenty of ways to make a man do what you want.”
“Normally I’d agree, but little or nothing will make him help on this. Even that. Oku’s given him his orders. Besides, he’s not my husband.” She shuddered at the thought of swearing anything more to Oku. She could never bring herself to do that, for either of their sakes. She would swear nothing more. Ever. And even if she would, she would rather die than ask Ilfayne to. One more thing that Devanna had of him that she could not.
“So what can we do?” Desperation was clear in Nerinna’s voice and for the first time Hilde felt sorry for her, wondered how she would feel if it were Ilfayne in that cell waiting to hang.
“We do what we can. That’s all we can ever do. I’ve no hope of convincing Valguard, he knows damn well I don’t believe him. He was there when Oku gave us the order. Valguard won’t—well he’s not going to take kindly to me disobeying. Him or Oku. I’m just hoping Oku’s got his hands full elsewhere right now. You do what you can with Valguard, but be careful. If he suspects you’re up to anything, you might end up joining Hunter. I’ll try the city. There seem to be more than a few who are just as displeased with this as us. If I can gather enough of them, we might manage something. What is it you’re planning anyway?”
Nerinna had her head down but embarrassment and shame radiated from her like a cloud. Finally she looked up and Hilde recognised the emotion there and in her heart. Stubborn determination to do whatever it took. “What I always do.”
Against Ilfayne
Hilde slid out of the citadel, her hood up and her hand on her mace. The mood of the city was confused and ugly. Valguard’s proclamation, that Oku himself had found Hunter guilty, had driven the people into a kind of frenzy. Those who believed it were angry and milled around the main square, mostly drunk. Fights broke out periodically between them and the others who refused to believe any such thing about Hunter, or who would stand for Regin and his heir no matter what the accusations. The black streets were slick with blood and heaped with the occasional body.
She slipped through them all and headed towards the far end of the square. A phalanx of men stood guard outside Regin’s shrine, beating back those who would defile it. It was a good job Ilfayne wasn’t there to see the assault, or more than a few men would be going home blind tonight.
Thinking about Ilfayne brought her anger back to mind. How could he be so, well, blind? She had a sudden impulse to see the inside of the shrine. Say a few words to Regin maybe. He would understand how bloody infuriating Ilfayne could be.
She edged her way towards it, and found her way blocked by two men wielding swords.
“Get yourself home, lass,” the older one said. She recognised him from somewhere, but she couldn’t think where for a moment. “This ain’t a good night to be out.” The crowd surged behind her and he raised his sword. “Quick lass, behind me!”
She whipped round. A group of Disciples were heading straight for the shrine. And not to pray if the looks on their faces were anything to go by. Her hand dropped to her mace and unclipped it.
“Behind me, I said!”
She grinned at him, flicked back her hood and raised her mace. The man took a hurried step back and made the sign of Kyr’s Ward with his free hand. She held back a sharp retort. Because this was good. No Ilfayne trying to wrap her up and keeping her away from trouble. Just her mace, her anger and a clear target. “I don’t need to stand behind anyone.”
The Disciples came towards them, backed up by a baying mob. They had come to rip down the shrine and she wouldn’t stand for that. The men here weren’t tarnished by Mithotyn—she would know it, feel it if they were. She and Ilfayne spent their life tracking down his servants. These men were only trying to protect the memory of Regin.
“I will spare the reverent,” Oku had said. And yet here were his Disciples ready to kill them. She stood in front of the defenders, dropped the mace to the end of its chain and swung it.
The leader of the Disciples, a hard-faced, wiry man in his forties, pulled up short when he saw who she was. He hesitated for a second then came on again, sword at the ready. “I’ve orders to take this shrine down. Orders from Valguard.”
Something was wrong here. Valguard had taken matters into his own hands. More evidence of Mithotyn’s subtle hand? Oku had got Ilfayne on his side by telling him Regin’s name was being defiled. Now here Valguard was having Regin’s shrine destroyed. Maybe she could persuade Ilfayne now. Maybe, but she had to stop these men first.
“From Valguard? Not Oku’s orders. Can Valguard call his god? Can he bring him here, now?” She pushed up the sleeve of her shirt and showed the brand. “I can.”
The man lowered his sword for a fraction of a second. “Then you should be helping, not hindering your god’s will.” The sword flashed out at her but she saw—and felt—it coming, ducked and swung her mace into his knee with a crunch. He fell to the flagstones with a breathless cry.
The man behind her roared and dove into the Disciples. Men leapt from his path and he battered his way into them, lay about with his sword and cleared a wide circle. Disciples backed away from him warily and one came into her range, his back to her. His mistake. She grasped her mace and used the hilt to crack him across the back of the head, only hard enough to knock him out. He slumped to the floor and another turned her way, drawn sword glittering in the torchlight. He slashed at her, straight for her neck and that was when she knew their orders were not just to bring down the shrine. She shouldn’t have expected anything else. Their orders were to destroy Regin’s defenders, supposed agents of Mithotyn. All of them, and Valguard had told them that this was where to find them.
She scrambled backwards and brought up her mace in time to deflect the blade, leaving herself open to the shield that came at her from the other side. The rim of it smacked into her left arm, knocked her to her knees and left her arm numb and useless. Like Hunter. Like him, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
She got back to her feet and struck out as she reached groin height on the Disciple. The mace hit him full-square between the legs and he squeaked out a groan before he sank to his knees. The one best piece of advice she’d ever been given: if in doubt, go for the groin. Thank you Regin.
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The fight raged round her, missing her for a few moments before another Disciple found her and brought his sword down in a crushing blow. As always that disconcerting voice in her head was telling her the best way to defend, to maim. To kill if need be. It sounded disturbingly like Regin, though she always thought it was the part of her that remembered him.
So she dodged to one side and brought the mace round into his unguarded side. The familiar weight of the mace travelled up her arm, the satisfying if slightly troubling feel of the flanges digging into flesh, and the man staggered back with a grunt and a curse. But he was a Disciple, not one to give up. He had his god to obey.
He lunged forward again, a feint, but he wasn’t used to fighting someone who could feel truth or lies in her heart. Hilde spun away and used the momentum to add some extra force to the blow she landed in his ribs. Bone cracked and the man’s breath came with flecks of blood that dripped through his beard.
Still he wouldn’t back down, and she became convinced that she might actually have to kill this one. Not something she ever wanted to do, if she could help it. But sometimes it was necessary.
He raised the sword again and she gave him a moment to catch his breath, to stand up straighter against the pain. He wasn’t a bad man, that was the crux of it. She could feel it in him. He was just a man who did what he must, because his god told him so. Not tainted by Mithotyn, not someone her oath told her she should release. Not even someone who bore her especial ill will. Just a man, doing what he thought he should.
Her grip on her mace faltered, just for a heartbeat. The Disciple stood upright with a grimace and gripped at his sword tighter. He would not stop. Would not think that she should be spared. He had his orders. And a Disciple would rather die than disobey.
He smiled grimly at her and gave her a chance, one that she couldn’t take, but a chance nonetheless. “We serve the same god, you and I. Stand back.”