Hidden: Tales of Ryca, Book 1

by Shereen Vedam

  “My men cleared the area and are standing guard,” Hagan said, tenderly rubbing his cheek. “No one will disturb us until I say we’re done.”

  He had come prepared. She met his gaze with reluctant admiration. Taking a deep breath to calm her raging temper and racing heart, she squashed the desire to apologize. He deserved that slap. She’d wanted to do it ever since he first opened his mouth by the gate. Mam wasn’t a liar.

  Or was she?

  The first crack formed in her firm belief in everything her mother had said. Because if Mam lied about Gilly’s injury, what else had she hidden from her children?

  “Tamarisk was the one who gave you that limp,” Hagan said, “when he hurled you over a corridor railing in the castle at Tibor.”

  Gilly’s body grew cold as her mind painted a picture of the awful moment of being suspended in air.

  “He taunted your mother before he dropped you.”

  Gilly raised her hands to cover her burning cheeks and Hagan took hold of her fingers and lowered her arms.

  He’s afraid I’ll slap him again. That was the last thing she wanted to do because with each word, Hagan was pulling back a veil that had lain over her since the horrible night.

  She squeezed his hands, drawing strength from his solidity as her world shook, shattered and reshaped. The memory of her fall became as clear as if it were happening right this moment. She was dropping, face down, hands flailing, air rushing past her. Then so swiftly she barely had time to take in a breath for a scream, she hit the marble floor, fast and hard.

  She cringed from the awful impact and the familiar blackness returned to comfort her, to lie to her. This time, Gilly saw the edges of a dark field that shielded the memory. It undulated with specks of Light.

  She took a shaky breath and, in her mind, touched the blanket shielding her past. Instantly, she received a clear impression of Mam. They were in the woods with Gilly’s siblings kneeling around her.

  “Mama, is she going to die like Papa?” Tamara whispered.

  “Shush,” her mother said. “I must concentrate. I can’t heal her properly while she is in such pain. You and Garren, go keep watch, and come find me quietly if anyone approaches.”

  As the children left, with tears in her eyes, the queen, still in her bedclothes, roamed her hands over her daughter’s broken body as Gilly moaned and writhed in agony.

  Forget, little Saira. Forget what was done to you. Forget what you saw as you lay cuddled beside your papa this night. Forget your sister and brother playing with you in the courtyard. Forget the life that can be no more. Forget me.

  “No!” Gilly tore the blanket, ripping it to shreds. Hagan’s fingers slipped from her grasp as Light pulsing from Gilly flung him backwards. He thumped against the tent wall and slumped.

  In that instant, a floodgate opened, sending Gilly bittersweet snippets of memory from her childhood in another life. She wept for the loss of her papa, seeing his blood spraying across her face at the moment of his death. Her mama pulling her back into her distended belly as a dagger slashed toward Saira. Mam thrusting an arm outward and Uncle Ywen being thrown backwards. She grabbed Saira’s hand and they ran to a side door. “Hurry, we have to find Tamara and Garren and get away.”

  “You would have died that night,” Hagan said, returning to squat before her, “your bones cracking as they did. Except the queen cast a spell to save your life.”

  “Why?” Gilly shivered in shock and remembered pain. “Why would Uncle Ywen want to harm us?”

  “My guess is Tamarisk poisoned his mind against his brother. I don’t know the whys or hows. All my mother said was that Tamarisk lusted after your mother. He wanted her from the first day your father brought her to the castle. One night, he tried to assault her. Her magic helped fend him off long enough for her to race to Keegan. Your father would have destroyed him. Ywen stood up for his boyhood friend, and testified it must have been someone else. That Mamosia, in her fright, had been mistaken. He swore Tamarisk had been by his side all day.”

  Hagan stayed silent a moment as if considering his words before continuing. “Keegan was ready to call his brother a liar. Your mother held him back. She had a kind heart and persuaded him to ban Tamarisk from the castle instead. A mistake. It cost Keegan his life.”

  No matter what lies Mam had spun her, she was not responsible for Gilly’s papa’s death. “That wasn’t her fault.”

  “It was!” Hagan said in a harsh voice. “Do not make the same mistake. Tamarisk cannot be trusted. He cannot be ignored. He must be destroyed.”

  She didn’t need Hagan’s admonition. She had no intention of trusting Tamarisk. When and if Anna dragged them to Tibor, Gilly didn’t plan to court the Royal Magician’s anger. Despite this incredible revelation, Mam was right.

  What’s past is past. Best she forget the life that can never be. Her breath hitched in her chest. She pushed aside the pain of her decision, but her returned memories she savored and squirreled away. For a time when Anna was safe and Gilly was free to think on all they had lost.

  When she didn’t respond, Hagan continued with his tale. “Ywen and Keegan had been at odds ever since their father announced Keegan would rule after him. The boys were identical twins, born moments apart. When Keegan turned five, his magical ability manifested. Once both boys reached adulthood, and it became obvious that Ywen possessed not a shred of talent to wield Light, the old king proclaimed that upon his death, Keegan would rule.”

  It was so odd listening to this tale, knowing Hagan spoke of her family. All that running her mother, the queen, put them through, while heavy with Anna and grieving her husband’s death, finally made sense. A shudder rippled through Gilly at the horror Mam must have experienced.

  Hagan met Gilly’s gaze. “From that day forward, Ywen spent every waking moment plotting his brother’s death. Once he finished off Keegan, he killed their father. The story goes that the old king died of a broken heart after hearing of Keegan’s death, but I know better. He was poisoned.”

  Gilly was stunned by how much Hagan seemed to know. Few in Ryca were aware of what really happened in Tibor over twenty years ago. What made this man so different that he dedicated his life to fighting for her family’s right to rule this land? “How do you know all this?” Why do you care?

  “My mother worked at the castle, Lady. She was your mother’s maiden at hand. Ywen had her killed after the assault on your family, but I knew the whole story. She’d sent me away when the tension in the castle built to a confrontation. Before Ywen came for her, she wrote to me about what happened that night.”

  Gilly’s mind flitted back to the Telling Ceremony. “Tom said Tamarisk was in the castle the night the prince,” papa, “died. How can that be, when Tamarisk had been banned from there.”

  She recalled once asking her mother, Mama, why can’t I play with Uncle Tam anymore?

  He’s a dangerous man, Saira. You must never be alone with him. Promise me?

  “He was there to help Ywen kill your father. To counter Keegan’s or Mamosia’s protection spells.” Hagan took her hands, his rough callused palms grazing her skin and keeping her grounded. Which brought to mind why they were having this discussion at all. Anna.

  “My sister is in the dark about all of this. She doesn’t know we’re related. She wants to go to Tibor to beg King Ywen’s forgiveness.” Gilly shivered at that once foolish-seeming plan, now seeing how truly dangerous it was. “We must stop her.”

  “Why?” Hagan gripped her hands tighter. “Her plan works nicely with mine. Tibor is exactly where we must go.”

  “No.” She pulled free from his tight grip, his calluses scraping her skin. “If she goes there, our uncle will kill her.”

  Hagan grabbed her upper arms and pulled her forward until they were inches apart, his earthy scent imprinting on her, and the candle hot beneath them. “He won’t harm her,” he said in a deadly voice. “Because I will kill him first. For my mother. For my queen.”

  “But…
”

  “And you,” he continued relentlessly, “will kill that slop-sucking rat, Tamarisk. For yourself, and for the good of the Light.”

  Gilly pushed him away and put as much distance between them as the boundary of the large tent allowed. At her abrupt movement, the candle flickered and went out. In the darkness, she lost sight of Hagan but sensed he still stood where she’d left him.

  She took several deep breaths to cleanse herself of Hagan’s presence, but she couldn’t shake off his words. He had accomplished his goal, convinced her that she was Prince Keegan’s daughter. Her chest tightened at that incredible realization.

  Mam was Queen Mamosia. I am a princess of the realm. Uncle Ywen wants me dead.

  Along with returning memories came the realization that Hagan intended to lead Gilly and her family to their certain deaths. She could never hope to kill a powerful sorcerer like Tamarisk. Not if, as Hagan maintained, the sorcerer was drawing strength for his spells from those poor magical guild members in the castle’s dungeons. He had more experience, access to an unlimited source of power, and was ruthless.

  He helped Uncle Ywen kill Papa. Desolation swamped her. How could I have forgotten you, Papa?

  Resentment toward her mother flared but she shook it off. Mam always had a sound reason for doing what she did, just as she had been right about how best to deal with Tamarisk.

  Run and hide.

  Running had saved her mother, for a time. Staying out of sight had kept Anna and Gilly safe for all these years. She had no interest in killing Tamarisk or overthrowing Uncle Ywen or becoming a queen. Anna had Papa’s fighting spirit. If her sister learned any of this, she might insist they take back what rightfully belonged to them.

  “You can’t let those sorcerers rot,” Hagan said. “They’re your people.”

  The arrow struck its intended target and Gilly faltered. She shelved her rising compassion and clung to reality. “You can’t seriously believe those guild members are still alive. No one could survive being drained of magical energy for decades. They are long dead.” Please be dead.

  “They’re victims of your family’s wrath,” Hagan said through clenched teeth. “Stuck in their prison, tortured, because your uncle hated your father. Your family destroyed their lives. Can you not find it in your heart to give their families peace? If there’s anything left of them, they deserve a quick end and a decent burial.”

  She covered her ears, her insides quivering. Even knowing Hagan twisted her emotions to gain his way, the possibility of such devastation was too horrible to bear.

  Focus on Anna. Not on people who may or may not be alive. If something could have been done to defeat Tamarisk and Ywen, Mam would have done it. Instead, she hid both herself and her children. If Gilly hadn’t been so slow to warn Mam…

  “Mamosia. Say it, Saira. Mamosia.” Papa knelt with an encouraging smile.

  He had blue eyes like the desert sky over Erov.

  “Mam.” I stomped my foot. “Mam mam mam,”

  “You’ve lost this battle, my love.” Her mother chuckled and hugged child and father.

  Gilly turned her back to Hagan and surreptitiously wiped a tear that wet her cheek. So that name hadn’t been another form for mama, but rather a long forgotten nickname. Why had her mother allowed her to keep using that name when she had wiped everything else from Gilly’s past? Unless her magic had been too weak. Or little Saira’s stubbornness too strong.

  “It’s time to go,” Hagan said, his voice gruff.

  That sounded as if he was softening. Gilly swung around, but his stern mouth refuted her assumption. He indicated the tent flap, reminding her she still had her seal spell on it. Once she released her binding, he opened the flap and invited her to step outside and into disaster.

  Her shoulders sagged with defeat. “Why didn’t you ask Anna to lead your fight? You already had her.”

  He gestured to her leg. “You are the marked one. You are a better symbol for our people to rally behind than your sister. I will work with her instead, if need be. Your choice.”

  “No choice at all,” Gilly said, as an ethereal noose settled around her neck.

  “Then you agree?” Eyes lit with excitement, he finally met her gaze. Gilly glimpsed his madness. Neither she nor her sister would stand a chance against Ywen’s forces but Hagan only envisioned glorious victory.

  “Have you ever tried to rescue these guild members?”

  “I’ve tried six ways to Tver but the King’s Warriors always cut down my troops.”

  “Yet you are certain we will succeed this time?” She layered her doubt with sarcasm.

  “This time, we have you.”

  “A lame girl who can magic a ward or two?”

  “Keegan’s daughter who survived Tamarisk’s assault. You will unite Ryca. If people see you alive and riding to Tibor to demand the throne, they’ll be behind us six thousand deep.”

  “With you at the head?”

  “It is my destiny.”

  The trap was set. No choice but to walk in. She had to protect Anna from both her sister’s impulsive behavior and Hagan’s bloodthirsty plans. She came closer. “I want Anna and her family to remain here while we travel to Tibor.”

  “No. She’s all I have to ensure you cooperate.”

  “Then please keep her in the dark about our intentions to overthrow the king. Anna wouldn’t want her children involved in a fight and might interfere with your plans.”

  “Why would you want to help me?”

  For a madman, his faculties were sharp. “I don’t want my sister involved in a fight with a powerful sorcerer like Tamarisk or a murderous king.”

  He was quiet as if he considered her suggestion.

  She held her breath. Anna’s life depended on his answer.

  “All right,” he said.

  She released her pent up breath. Yes. A tiny win, but at this point, she treasured every victory.

  “Once we reach Tibor,” Hagan said, “I’ll find a safe place to stash them. Let’s go.”

  She nodded and ducked under the tent flap to step outside. The horizon was light. A new day was upon them. The Rycan Warriors gathered to greet her.

  More like a gathering of shopkeepers than a squadron of fighters. They may carry swords and shields, and one or two wore chainmaille, but these men with their friendly faces belonged in the city. They should be taking care of their business, playing with their children and eating meals with their wives. No wonder Talus and his King’s Warriors had decimated them. These men were no more prepared for battle than Tom.

  Hagan presented her. Each man stepped up, fist circling her forearm, smile wide and cheerful. Gilly was at a loss on how to convince them that what their leader intended was beyond their capabilities.

  Bells rang then, signaling the gates were opening. Morning already. Together, they trekked into the city. Hagan led her along the exact route the shoemaker had given her, attesting that he, too, must either work for the warriors or, more likely considering the state of the Rycan Warriors, was one of them.

  They entered a home built into the mountain and a warrior shouted, “Breakfast for the princess.”

  General agreement followed.

  Hagan led her in silence to an underground kitchen. Shelves had been chiseled into the rock walls to house pots and pans and supplies. A tall circular stone chimney in the center of the room over a blazing hearth drew smoke upward, allowing the room to stay warm but not smoky.

  Ned, the shoemaker, was eating breakfast at the table – what a surprise – as well as the gatekeeper who had refused to allow her into Perm last night. Did their wives know what these “warriors” planned?

  “Where is my family?” Gilly stayed rooted to the doorway.

  “You must learn to trust me, lady.” Hagan sat at the table and drew a plate to him. “They’re comfortable. Sit.”

  Despite her seeking spell’s reassurance, a part of Gilly still feared her past was repeating itself. A tortured corner insisted sh
e had been too slow to save them. Again. What if while she had argued with Hagan, the horsemen discovered where this madman had put her family? “I want to see for myself.”

  He gave her an exasperated look, and then pushing his plate away, led her through a side door and through a series of underground corridors. She stooped as they walked through even though there was plenty of headroom. She forced herself to straighten, but traveling deeper into the mountain with rock in every direction wore on the mind. They turned down so many corners, she feared even if she knocked out Hagan, she and her family might never find their way out to safety.

  Finally, he stopped at a door, unbolted the bar and invited her inside. Her family and Tom were there, under guard. No Talus or Cullen, but Tom was here. Safe. A hot flush of relief swept through, leaving her trembling and wanting to cry with joy.

  Tom’s eyes seemed to mirror her relief. He was worried about me. The thought tasted sweet and delicious.

  With a cry of happiness, Anna ran toward her, but a man with a sword gestured her back. Marton slipped his arm around his wife’s waist, hugging her close. Their children were also safe and close by, appearing less agitated than their parents. All whom she loved were accounted for and unharmed. She thanked the Light for this mercy and her horror of losing her family as a child receded into a long-ago memory, where it belonged.

  Bevan seemed unusually carefree as he waved cheerfully to her. Considering he had seemed to look right back at her during her seek-her spell, exactly how powerful had her nephew’s awareness of Light grown lately? Could the boy have kept track of her after she broke contact?

  “Gilly, what’s going on?” Anna asked.

  Her sister drew Gilly’s distracted gaze and she became spellbound. Her heart thumped like a runaway horse and her breath caught. With her beautiful blond hair and blue eyes, Anna was a female version of their Papa.

  Chapter 12

  “Gilly, speak to me,” Anna said. That impatient tone, the commanding stance. Anna was definitely her father’s daughter.

  Her sister pulled away from Marton and defiantly shoved the Rycan Warrior with the sword aside and ran to Gilly and hugged her. “Why are you crying? What did he do?”