Either way, her future was dark and bleak.
16
Selene stood by her father on the ramparts on a late afternoon during the first week of Harvest, awaiting the arrival of the Great Houses. A cool mountain breeze sailed along the castle top, sending the Ravenwood banners flying and snapping in the wind. She gathered her cloak around her body, being sure to keep her hood firmly over her head. Mother would not like the idea of her standing here watching the arrival of the Great Houses like some commoner. The official greeting would be taking place tomorrow in the great hall, with much pageantry and dignity, where each house would display their strength, power, and riches.
However, if she was going to really become the next grand lady of Ravenwood, she wanted to know more about the Great Houses, and that started with their arrival. How did they travel? What did they bring? What kind of atmosphere did they exude? When Father invited her to watch secretly from the battlements, Selene said yes.
The smell of smoke from the smithy combined with the pine scent of the trees that grew along the Magyr mountaintops created a pleasing autumn smell. She closed her eyes and felt the sun on her face, and she sucked in another lungful of air. Over the last few weeks, ever since she overheard the conversation through the wall, she had felt like a thick blanket had been pulled over her mind and body. She moved with a cold stiffness and barely talked to anyone. At night, she practiced her gift, keeping her heart locked behind iron doors so she felt nothing for the servants whose dreams she visited. Little by little, she could feel her heart dying, but it was the only way to stay sane both within the dreamscape and during the day when she interacted with the same servants.
In turn, the servants grew colder toward her, as well, but Selene held their whispers and actions at arm’s length. If she let them inside, it would crack the doors she had hidden her heart behind, and she couldn’t afford that. Indeed, she was truly becoming the Lady of Ice, as they had come to call her.
Father stood as a silent companion as they waited for the first house to arrive. Selene was grateful for his silence. That, and the beauty of the green mountains dotted here and there with orange and yellow, lifted the bleak burden she carried, even if for a moment.
A single horn blew high up along one of the towers. Selene looked toward the wide bridge that connected Rook Castle to King’s Highway. It was the only known way to access the castle, as it was surrounded by steep valleys and ravines.
The entourage—too far away to make out who—left King’s Highway and started across the stone bridge. The bridge was twenty feet wide and lined with a stone railing to keep those crossing from falling into the chasm below.
“Looks like House Rafel is first to arrive,” her father said, pointing to the banner carried by one of the horsemen. Selene raised a hand to shield her eyes while keeping her hood in place and caught sight of the green banner with a white tree in the middle. “A long time ago, House Rafel was known as the House of Healing. The Rafel family was gifted with the knowledge of herbs and remedies. It was even said the grand lord or lady of the house could heal someone by simply laying his or her hands on the wounded.”
“Is that true?” Selene asked.
Her father shrugged. “There were many miraculous things a long time ago, now forgotten. But I have a feeling there is some truth in the stories.”
Selene watched House Rafel cross the bridge, particularly the older man dressed in fine dark green robes and the younger woman who rode beside him. His long, silvery hair reached below his chest and flew loosely around him. His daughter’s hair was as dark as his was light, and even longer, bound on the right by what looked like a large pink flower.
Father spoke again. “The head of House Rafel is Grand Lord Haruk. The young woman beside him is his only daughter, Ayaka. Ah, it appears House Vivek is not too far behind.”
Selene switched from the couple riding amongst the sea of green and spotted another group just rounding the bend farther down the mountain path. A dark blue banner led the way, white stars barely visible across the standard. The horn sounded again to announce the arrival of the new house.
“That was your house.”
“Yes,” her father replied. “The Great House of Wisdom. But it now pales in comparison to what it used to be.”
House Rafel had finished crossing the bridge and was entering the gate below the ramparts when House Vivek started across. Both houses traveled with a large entourage of servants and guards, at least fifty people or more in each party.
Unlike House Rafel’s long flowing robes and deep green colors, the members of House Vivek wore richly colored clothes trimmed in gold. Gold bands were wrapped around the muscular arms of the guards who carried the ornate litter that bobbed between the throng with swords and lances, the gold contrasting with the dark color of their toned skin.
“Grand Lord Rune and Grand Lady Runa must be in the litter. They are the only house with two ruling heads. When their father died, the brother and sister chose to rule House Vivek together.”
Selene pulled her cloak closer to her body as she stood by her father and watched the procession of both houses toward Rook Castle. This would be the first time the seven Great Houses had met in hundreds of years—that is, if House Merek came as well. There still had been no word from the wyvern riders who lived on the Southern Isles. In any case, Rook Castle would be filled for the next fortnight.
A half hour later, as House Vivek finished entering the gate below, another house arrived. Her father’s face brightened at the banner, white with a blazing sun of orange and yellow in the middle. It didn’t take much to guess whose standard that was: House Luceras, the famous House of Light.
The entourage for House Luceras was by far the largest, with knights dressed in steel-plated armor riding on white steeds, their armor and lances glinting in the sunlight, and pages and servants dressed in white tunics covered in orange tabards. Selene silently wondered if the armor was crafted so that it reflected the sun’s dying rays as a token to the house.
In the middle of the group rode three persons, dressed even fairer than those around them. Selene recalled one of the servants speaking of hair of gold, and indeed the servant was right. All three had hair the color of gold.
The two men were dressed in partial plate, which shone in the sunlight. The lady was dressed in a long white gown that flowed across the flank of her white horse. She held herself in a genteel way, with her legs to the left. Her hair, even more glorious than that of the two men, flowed down to her lower back.
A small fire sparked inside of Selene’s chest as she gazed at the young woman. The servant girl was right. Lady Adalyn was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Her light skin and hair made Selene conscious of her own long black strands. And the graceful look on her face made Selene wonder if Lady Adalyn had ever experienced hardship in her young life. As the House of Light and the most devout followers of the old ways, she was sure House Luceras was blessed.
Father tugged at his beard. “I wondered if Grand Lord Warin would make it to the assembly. Last I heard, the pain in his limbs had left him bedridden. It looks like he sent his eldest son, Lord Leo, in his place.”
“And the other two people?” Although Selene had guessed the woman’s name.
Father intensified his gaze. “I’m not sure. The other young lord is either Tyrn or Elric. I would wager Elric. Tyrn probably stayed back to attend his father. And the lovely young lady is Lady Adalyn. She’s a year younger than you, but already sought after by the other houses.”
Selene swallowed the lump in her throat. What would it be like to be sought after? Maybe Lady Adalyn even had a choice in her suitors. A future of possibilities.
She glanced away and lifted her chin, her hand curling into a fist. No use pining after another future. It won’t change mine, it’ll only make me feel worse. She has her path to walk, and I have mine.
Still, she blinked back the tears that were forming.
As the last of House Luceras
entered the gates below, her father turned toward the castle. “The other houses will arrive over the next few days—”
The horn sounded again. Her father glanced up and headed back to their spot along the wall. Selene came to stand beside him. Far off, in the dying light, a smaller group could be seen. She counted again, then frowned. Only five people made up this group. It couldn’t possibly be another house, could it? What kind of Great House traveled with so few people?
Selene squinted against the darkness, trying to make out the banner that one of the travelers held aloft to announce their approach. A light blue standard came into view with indigo waves enclosed in a white circle.
Her father placed his hands along the stone wall. “So House Maris was able to make it.” He breathed out a sigh of relief. “Good.”
Selene glanced at him from the corner of her eye. There seemed to be something unsaid in his sigh. “House Maris? The House of the Northern Shores? Were you not expecting them?”
“I was. But I wasn’t sure when he would arrive. House Maris has experienced several tragedies over the last few years. Grand Lord Remfrey and Lady Serawyn died from a terrible sickness that swept across the shores two years ago. Shortly after, their youngest son, Quinn, also passed away, leaving Lord Damien as the youngest heir to be named a grand lord of a house in over four hundred years. His father and I were good friends, long before I met and married your mother. I was saddened when I learned that Lord Remfrey had passed away.”
Selene turned her attention back toward the five riders as they approached the bridge and wondered again at so few people in the company. “How old is Lord Damien?” she asked. The standard of House Maris rippled in the wind, illuminated by the last light of the setting sun.
“Lord Damien is not much older than you. Four and twenty harvests.”
“So young,” Selene murmured. She couldn’t imagine being the head of a Great House at such a young age.
“Yes. But he has shown tremendous responsibility toward his obligations and a good head for leadership. The people of the Northern Shores have not suffered. In fact, I think Lord Damien may become one of the greatest grand lords the seven nations have ever seen.”
Selene glanced at her father in surprise. Such high praise for another house. Her father rarely said such words. Whoever this Lord Damien was, he had earned her father’s approval, and that meant something. Maybe more than her own mother’s opinion.
“What has House Maris done for us?” Her mother’s words echoed in the back of her mind. What did Mother mean? Selene shook her head and glanced back as House Maris crossed the bridge. Her curiosity was now piqued.
“Why is he traveling with so few people?” she asked a moment later.
Her father shrugged. “I’m not sure. But House Maris has never been showy. Living on the rugged coast has made them hardy and with little patience for ostentatiousness.”
Her eyes roved across the men, searching for Lord Damien. In the twilight and this high up, it was hard to make out individual people. Was he the man with the light hair? Or the lanky man on the left—
“He’s the young man in the front riding on the black horse.”
Selene focused on Lord Damien as he and his men approached the gates, but she could barely make out his features. His dark hair was short and he wore a long blue cloak. One of the men rode close beside him, his honey-colored hair pulled back, sword glinting at his side. No doubt Lord Damien’s personal guard.
Just as they reached the castle, Lord Damien looked up. Selene froze. The ramparts should have hidden her, but somehow he had sensed her and her father and looked in their direction.
Their eyes met. Her stomach tightened at his hooded gaze, but she kept her face passive. Then his gaze switched to her father, which he returned with a nod.
Lord Damien dipped his head back down and entered the gates.
“He looks a lot like Lord Remfrey.” Her father stepped away from the ramparts. The sun had now set and torches were being lit across the castle. “And he will lead House Maris well, just like his father did before him.”
Selene nodded, her mind still in a whirl from that one glance. Who was this young man her father thought highly of and her mother detested? She straightened her cloak and tugged the fabric. She would be sure to be cautious around Lord Damien.
And yet at the same time, she wanted to know more about him.
17
Damien guided his mare through the tall gates into the courtyard of Rook Castle as the torches were lit for the evening. Up above, the sky went from a brilliant orange to deep purple. One lone star hung just above the walls, heralding the fall of night. He steered his mount toward a second set of gates and leaned over toward Taegis. “Caiaphas was watching us from the ramparts,” he said quietly.
“I noticed. Who was the young woman with him?”
“I would imagine one of his daughters. She looked too young to be Lady Ragna. And I doubt Lady Ragna would be watching above the gates. I’m sure she has a lavish introduction waiting for us in the main hall when all of the houses arrive.”
Taegis nodded.
Damien thought again of the young woman who stood with Caiaphas. Yes, she had to be one of his daughters. Which one? The older one and heir to Ravenwood—the name of whom eluded him at the moment? Or the younger one? He huffed quietly. No doubt he would be introduced to both. House Ravenwood was known for its schemes, although when it came to marriage, the ladies of Ravenwood always chose consorts from lesser houses. So, in that respect, he was safe from any possible matchmaking.
As he crossed the courtyard of Rook Castle, he looked around, admiring the ancient mountain fortress. It was more like a walled-in city than a single castle. Around the spacious outer courtyard, streets led toward other parts of the castle grounds. Homes, smiths, and shops were set up along the streets. It made sense. This high up in the mountains, away from other cities and villages, Rook Castle would need its own means to take care of its people.
The architecture gave the place a feeling of openness. Damien noticed the large windows, wide airways through the smooth, grey columns, open areas, and balconies high up. As if the fortress had been built to let the harsh mountain wind pass through rather than to keep it out.
Very different than the architecture of the other nations he had visited.
They approached another gate built into a smaller wall that surrounded Rook Castle itself. Inside was another courtyard with torches lit along the walls. Smoke from hundreds of fireplaces filled the air, slowly building a haze across the night sky.
The courtyard was a cacophony of sound and people. Horses neighed by the stables, servants scurried across the cobblestone, and knights dressed in steel plate from House Luceras stood by the staircase that led into Rook Castle.
Damien glanced at Taegis and Cohen. It seemed that the other houses had chosen this trip as an opportunity to show their affluence and wealth, while he had only brought a burgeoning young monk and three guards. Damien had no reason to impress the other houses. He knew who he was and the others knew as well. House Maris was master of the waters. Nothing else needed to be said.
He dismounted and held the reins in his hand as a man dressed in a dark grey uniform approached his party. “House Maris?” he said, his voice rising over the sounds in the courtyard.
“Yes,” Damien answered, moving forward. Taegis and his other men dismounted and followed.
“The stable hands will come and retrieve your mounts. Then I will take you to your rooms. Your . . . er . . .” The servant glanced at Cohen, Taegis, and his two guards. “Your men will be shown to their own quarters.”
Damien motioned toward his men. “If there is room, I would prefer my men stay with me.”
The servant’s eyebrows rose. “As you wish.”
As they spoke, three young men dressed in work clothes crossed the courtyard on the right and approached them. One reached for the reins from Damien. “I will be taking care of your mounts during your time h
ere.”
Damien gave him the reins. “Thank you.”
The young man bobbed his head and smiled. Damien got the distinct feeling the man had never been thanked before. He glanced up at Rook Castle. What was House Ravenwood like? In the past, Father spoke very little about the mountain house, and even though the two nations shared a border, there was little communication between them. He narrowed his eyes. Soon he would know.
The room the servant brought them to was rugged and yet lavish at the same time. Thick rugs and skins covered the cold stone floor. A massive fireplace sat on one end of the room, the mahogany four-poster bed on the other side, with deep blue damask curtains, dark furs, and a blue coverlet. On the walls were paintings of the mountainside encased in ornate frames. Two high-backed chairs stood in front of the fireplace, with a small table nearby topped with a bottle of wine and glasses.
Two additional doors led from the main room to smaller rooms for attending servants or spouses who did not share rooms. Taegis and the two guards took the one to the right and Cohen took the one on the left.
Double doors on the other side of the room led to a small balcony. Damien stepped out into the cool night air and placed his hands on the stone railing. He rolled his neck and sighed. Deep within, he felt the continual pull of the water-wall he had left up along the coast. It would continue to protect his people while he was gone, but it was beginning to wear on him.
One by one, stars appeared across the dark sky. He took in a deep breath, letting the cool, crisp air fill his lungs. These next few days would be his initiation into the role of grand lord. He knew the other houses had some misgivings about a lord as young as he was, and he was prepared for those who would try to manipulate him because of his age. They would soon find he was not easily swayed. He loved his people and would do anything for them. And more than that, he desired to see all the nations come together and be as one, like when the seven great nations had first formed over a thousand years ago.
Mark of the Raven Page 13
