Maybe this pending conflict with the Dominia Empire could do just that: cause the Great Houses to finally work together, not fall into schisms like what happened during the razing. But first, Damien needed to find who was causing the divisions in the first place and murdering those in the lesser houses. There could be no trust when fear ruled.
Damien headed back into the room and shut the doors behind him. One of the Rook Castle servants was placing his saddlebag and a woven chest in the empty corner near the bed.
“Thank you,” he told the man.
The man bowed and left quietly. Taegis emerged from his room. “How long before you’re summoned to the main hall for introductions?”
Damien shook his head as he looked through the sets of clothing inside the woven chest. “Not until tomorrow at the earliest. I’m sure Lady Ravenwood will wait until all the houses arrive before formal introductions are made.” He pulled out a clean tunic, trousers, and a dark sleeveless jacket. “In the meantime, I plan on cleaning off the dust and dirt from our trip.” He glanced over his shoulder. “What about you?”
“I’m going to finish my inspection of your room, then look over as much of the castle as I can. Sten and Karl will be here if you need anything.”
Damien nodded. With unknown assassins on the loose, this would be a prime time to hit the Great Houses.
Cohen entered the room as well.
“And what are your plans, Cohen?” Damien asked as he stood and wrapped the clean clothes into a tight bundle.
“I’ll stay in, at least for tonight. I had hoped to read more from the texts Father Dominick sent with me. Then tomorrow, I shall see if there are other priests or monks who accompanied the Great Houses. I look forward to exchanging opinions and ideas with others.”
Damien gave him a thoughtful nod. “I’m sure a priest from the Temple of Splendor came with House Luceras. However . . .” His face grew dark. “I believe House Ravenwood follows the Dark Lady, so be careful.”
“The Dark Lady?” Cohen paled, emphasizing the freckles across his long face. “I thought followers of the Dark Lady had died out years ago.”
“No, there are still a handful of them here in the mountains. There might even be a few left in House Friere,” Taegis said, entering the conversation.
“Interesting,” Cohen murmured. Then he looked up, his face brightening. “Well, it should be an enlightening conversation with their leader.”
The corners of Damien’s lips twitched as he watched the gangly monk wander back to his room. Cohen was definitely different than most of the young men who entered Baris Abbey. He had a heart for the Light and for people and desired to share his passion with all, yet he possessed a gentleness some of the other monks lacked.
Damien nodded to himself. Yes, he could see why Father Dominick was grooming Cohen to replace him. Still, he had a lot to learn about the world. Once again, Damien was glad he had brought him along.
A small bell rang quietly through the halls the next day during the late afternoon. Damien looked up. He had barely retired to his room after spending the morning enjoying the architecture and mountain views around Rook Castle while Taegis talked to Captain Stanton of the Rook Castle guard.
The bell rang again, followed by a knock at the door. Karl, a younger guard from Nor Esen, exited his room and opened the door.
“A message for Lord Maris.”
At the mention of his name, Damien stood and headed for the door. As he approached, he spotted one of the Ravenwood servants standing in the hallway.
Once he caught sight of Damien, the man gave a short bow. “Grand Lady Ravenwood would like to properly welcome you to Rook Castle this evening, followed by dinner.”
The servant waited for his answer, his head still bowed.
“Tell Lady Ravenwood I will be there within the hour. Thank you.”
The servant nodded and left.
An hour later, he returned. Taegis stepped out into the hallway, his hand on his sword and his eyes roving across the corridor. Damien followed, along with Karl and Sten, the other guard from Nor Esen. It would be foolish to attack a nobleman in the hallway, but it never hurt to make a show of precaution.
The servant started down the hallway, Damien following, with Taegis and his two guards close behind. Their boots clapped quietly along the stone floor as they passed silver sconces with lit candles and doors that led into other suites.
At the end of the long hallway, the servant led them down a set of wide stairs and to the right. The ceiling arched above with wrought-iron chandeliers ablaze for the evening. Along the left side were long, narrow windows. Outside, a sliver of a moon made an appearance from behind hazy clouds.
Ahead, two guards stood on either side of tall double doors. One reached over and opened his. Damien nodded as he passed the man and entered the halls of Rook Castle.
Damien had been to a number of halls over his short life-span. The halls of House Luceras captured the essence of the House of Light with their wide windows, gold trimmings, and white marble floors. The halls of House Rafel were filled with thick wooden beams and columns, and lush green vegetation, reminding visiting dignitaries that House Rafel was connected to nature. He’d even visited House Merek, the famous wyvern riders of the Southern Isles. Their halls were tall, with rafters high above where young wyverns could swoop in and out.
As Damien looked around the hall of Rook Castle, only one word came to mind: cold. Smooth grey stone walls, narrow windows lined in lead panes, and dark ornate furniture surrounded the cavernous smoke-filled hall of Ravenwood. The air itself was not chilly, but it felt like it nonetheless.
Large groups of people were gathered beneath the high ceiling, most likely a collection of rich families and lesser houses with connections to House Ravenwood. He spotted House Luceras near the front, the golden hair of the members from the House of Light standing out from amongst the crowd. However, he could not see any other of the Great Houses. Apparently he was the second to arrive tonight.
At his entrance, a courier rang a bell. As the tones echoed around the hall, the room became quiet. “Announcing Grand Lord Damien Maris from the Northern Shores.”
Damien started forward as the people parted for him. At the front of the hall, Lady Ragna stood upon a dais, in front of a lavish black throne with a raven carved into the stone on each side. She was dressed in a long dark gown and wore a sleek black cloak lined with black feathers. Her hair hung around her face and over one shoulder, reaching down to her waist. She exuded a dark beauty, marred by something hidden within her eyes.
Caiaphas stood at her side, one step behind, in the proper position of a consort. His silver hair was slicked back and his beard neatly trimmed. He barely gave Damien a glimpse before setting his eyes ahead.
On Lady Ragna’s right stood two young women, one slightly taller than the other, with long black hair with almost a blue sheen to it that matched her deep blue gown. She held her head high and watched him approach with an indifferent, almost chilling gaze. The other young lady looked to be her sister, but with auburn hair gathered over one shoulder. Her dress was a deep crimson trimmed in fur. Her gaze was inquisitive as she watched him.
No doubt they were the daughters of House Ravenwood. His guess would be the one who had stood with Caiaphas on the battlements was the one in blue. Though both women were striking, once again he found himself thankful that House Ravenwood chose consorts from amongst lesser houses. They appeared beautiful, proud, and dangerous—not the kind of women for him.
As Damien approached the dais, Lady Ragna beckoned him up the steps. Taegis stayed close behind, like a shadow along Damien’s back.
“Grand Lord Damien, House Maris is welcome to Rook Castle,” Lady Ravenwood said with her hand raised. “Thank you for answering the summons of the seven Great Houses during this time of crisis. Through our combined knowledge and resources, I hope we can find common ground. The assembly will commence in two days. In the meantime, you are welcome to the hospitalit
y of House Ravenwood. If you need anything, please ask.”
Damien bowed stiffly. Already House Ravenwood was positioning itself as the leader of the assembly, never once mentioning how it was he who had called the assembly in the first place. Light, give me patience, he prayed. “Thank you, Grand Lady Ragna.”
“Please join us in the dining hall after all of the Great Houses have been announced.”
“I will.”
The raised voices behind him alerted Damien that one of the other houses had arrived. Quietly he headed toward the left and watched as House Rafel entered the halls.
Grand Lord Haruk walked between the crowd, assisted by his daughter, Lady Ayaka. Both were clothed in deep emerald green. Servants dressed in similar coloring followed behind, carrying the trains of their flowing robes.
Damien tuned out Lady Ragna’s greeting to House Rafel and studied her daughters again. The taller daughter appeared to be older. He could almost see the weight of House Ravenwood resting on her proud shoulders and wondered if the burden was as heavy as his own. However, chances were it would be many years before she would need to take up the mantle of her family.
Her eyes glanced at him and he stared back. Neither moved as House Rafel took its place beside House Luceras over on the right side of the room. Suddenly he wondered if what he took for cold indifference was something else. She blinked and looked away.
Damien frowned as House Vivek was announced across the great hall. There had been a flash of hopelessness within the young woman’s dark eyes. Every house had their secrets, except perhaps his own. So what secrets did she hold inside? He glanced at the other daughter as House Vivek approached the dais. She did not share her sister’s coldness. Instead, there was a fire in her eyes, a hunger for something more.
Damien mentally shook his head and took a deep breath. In either case, both women were dangerous. But he couldn’t help that a small part of him went out toward the lady in blue.
18
Selene followed her mother and father to the dining hall after the two-hour greeting of the Great Houses. Her neck and shoulders felt stiff, and fatigue hung across her mind like a thick fog from another late night of dreamwalking. All she wanted to do was head back to her rooms and lay her head down. Instead, she would be seated with strangers from the other houses and forced to endure a meal filled with unspoken probing hidden behind tedious talk. House politics at its best.
Unlike the room the Ravenwood family used for private dining, the formal dining hall was almost as big as the main hall, with high ceilings and rafters from which hung the Ravenwood crest on banners of deep purple. Beneath the fluttering banners were three long tables set up in a U shape so that the diners could view each other. The room could easily seat over one hundred people. Thick wooden chairs were pulled back, and settings of elegant silver were ready for the dinner guests.
Candles filled the area with soft light. A fire roared in the massive fireplace on the other side of the room, burning the autumn chill from the air.
The servants directed those entering to their seating arrangements. Selene was led to a chair along one side while Father and Mother were seated at the front table, with House Vivek on the right and House Friere on the left. The members of House Luceras were seated across from Selene, their golden hair glinting in the candlelight. Her heart dropped as Lady Adalyn graciously took a seat almost across from her. The last thing she wanted was to view the beautiful lady of light all evening.
As Selene sat down and the servant pushed in her chair, she caught the young lord of House Maris being directed to the chair beside her. Interesting. She reached for the dipping bowl and placed her fingers within the tepid water. Why had she been seated beside Lord Damien? Surely Mother would have used this opportunity to acquaint her with House Friere since she hoped for a pairing between the two houses. Instead, Amara had been seated beside Lord Raoul, near the eldest Luceras lord.
Selene wrinkled her nose and reached for the cleaning towel as she watched her sister and Raoul begin a lively conversation. Raoul certainly had grown into a handsome young man. Not surprising. The men of House Friere were famous for their thick dark hair and sultry looks. Raoul wore his long hair up in a knot at the top of his head, pinned there by a small ornate gold piece. His white tunic was open at the chest, exposing toned muscles, and a thick leather cord hung around his neck with what looked like a golden skull pendant at the end. A black leather jerkin studded with gold completed his ensemble.
He glanced over at Selene and grinned before downing the contents of the crystal goblet beside him. Amara tugged on his arm and he turned his attention back to her.
Selene looked away in disgust, only to find all three siblings from House Luceras staring curiously at her. Lady Adalyn’s eyes were large and innocent-looking. Her brothers—one on either side of their sister—had the same hair color, like wheat on a summer’s day.
The older one’s gaze grew guarded, and he pulled his sister’s attention to himself while the younger—Elric, was it?—watched her the same way a raven looked when it spotted something sparkly.
Selene breathed in through her nose and reached for the nearby goblet—
Her hand brushed warm fingers, and she pulled back with a gasp.
“Pardon me,” Lord Damien said as he took his hand away from the goblet between them. “I did not realize you wished to drink first.”
His soft tenor voice surprised her. She had expected something deeper, something more commanding from the young grand lord. Her cheeks burned as she prayed the candlelight hid the color across her cheeks.
His dark gaze moved across her face, settling again on her eyes. He had short dark hair brushed to the side, exposing a small, white scar that ran through his eyebrow. His face was clean shaven, and he had a strong jaw. But it was his eyes that captured her attention. They were the deepest blue she had ever seen.
Heart beating faster and her face growing a deeper shade of red, she pressed her lips into a fine line. “No, you may go first.” Dart’an! He was a grand lord, not some commoner! Get your head together, Selene!
Lord Damien chuckled and gently pushed the goblet toward her. “It is all yours, my lady. I will ask for a new goblet when the servants come by.”
Selene spotted her mother down at the end of the table glancing her way. She thanked him and took a gulp of the tart red liquid, feeling it burn down her throat. She hated these kinds of gatherings. They always brought out an inelegance in her.
Moments later, platters of various meats, large round loaves of dark bread, and tureens filled with soup and sauces were placed along the table. Selene placed the goblet down, thankful for the distraction. But her nerves would not let her settle as her stomach twisted. Even the rich smell of venison and pheasant mixed with fresh bread could not awaken her appetite.
More wine was poured into the crystal goblets set around the table. Conversation began as bread was broken and meat was sliced and placed on plates. She overheard Damien quietly asking for another goblet before the servant left. She knew she should offer the use of the one between them, which was common practice. But in this instance, she desired her own.
Lord Damien finished cleaning his fingers in the water bowl and placed his towel on his lap. Every time he moved, his tunic brushed Selene’s arm, making her aware of his presence, compounding her discomfort as she remembered her etiquette error. It wasn’t the first time she had sat with a nobleman. In the past, she had been seated with Lord Raoul and even his father, Lord Ivulf.
But this was different. There was something about Lord Damien. Even his scent was different. Just the barest hint of clove, cinnamon, and sandalwood. Difficult ingredients to obtain at Rook Castle, especially cinnamon, since fewer and fewer tradesmen traveled King’s Highway through the mountain region. But she would never forget the smell.
“Would you like a slice of venison?” Lord Damien asked as he captured a piece with a two-pronged fork and knife.
Selene looked at the meat
and her stomach rolled. However, he was kind to offer, so she should accept. “Yes,” she said. “Thank you.”
He placed a slice on her plate, then two on his. “I know my name was announced earlier this evening, but that doesn’t make it a formal introduction.” He placed his utensils down and turned toward her. “I am Lord Damien from House Maris.”
Selene placed her own down as well. “Lady Selene, heiress to House Ravenwood.”
Lord Damien nodded and picked up his fork and knife. “So you are the eldest Ravenwood?”
“I am,” she said slowly. He wasn’t sizing her up as a possible marriage match, was he? Surely he knew that House Ravenwood did not marry the heads of other Great Houses.
She cut the meat into tiny pieces and placed one in her mouth. She could feel Lady Adalyn and Lord Elric watching her again from across the gap between their tables.
“If I may be so bold, part of the reason I am here is to get to know the other houses. Would you mind telling me a little about yourself?”
Selene paused her fork halfway to her mouth. About herself? What could she say? All she could think about were the late nights spent walking in the dreams of others, learning how to twist those dreams into nightmares.
“I’m sorry,” Damien said a moment later, turning back to his own food. “I shouldn’t pry—”
“No, it’s all right. I’m at a loss at what to say about myself. I’m afraid there’s not a lot about me that you would find interesting.” At least anything she could share with him. And it sounded like the type of thing a lady would say.
However, she was sure he would find her dreamwalking gift very interesting. But that was a secret she could never divulge—and never wanted to. She never wanted anyone to know about that secret part of her.
“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “what’s it like growing up in the mountains? I’m from the coast. We have mountains there, but nothing like the Magyr Mountains.”
At the word coast, Selene’s eyes lit up. Being a landlocked nation, and having only traveled to the lands controlled by House Friere, she had never seen the coast. Her father said that there was water “as far as the eye can see.”
Mark of the Raven Page 14
