Mark of the Raven

by Morgan L. Busse

  “But perhaps your affection could grow.”

  “It could. But I think she loved my brother, and that would be hard to overcome.”

  Taegis stepped into the inner circle. “Well, it’s something to think about.”

  Damien raised his sword and approached Taegis. “We’ll see.”

  An hour later, Damien headed back to his rooms to wash up and change before the house talks began. Already his mind felt clearer and his body refreshed from the exercise. Too bad he couldn’t start every morning this way. Once inside his room, he stripped off his sweaty tunic and headed over to the table in the corner where a washbasin and pitcher were set for his convenience, along with soap and a fresh linen cloth. He poured the water into the basin and began to wipe down his body.

  When he reached his left side, he stopped and glanced at the marks just above his hip. Three small white waves lay across his skin, the symbol of his house. His mind went back to his conversation with Taegis earlier that morning. He was the only member left of House Maris, the only one with these marks and gifts given to his ancestors, which meant it was important for him to marry—and marry soon—in order to carry on House Maris.

  He let out a long breath and finished his washing. Taegis was right, Lady Adalyn was a good choice. Their union would strengthen the ties between their families. And as the fourth child of House Luceras, it wasn’t necessary for her to carry on her family line. But their bloodlines would still compete, and there was no certainty that their children would inherit his gift.

  A better choice still would be a woman from a lesser house. Then he would be assured of passing on his gift.

  “But I’m not interested in either,” he said quietly as he wrung out the cloth and hung it on a peg. He closed his eyes and lowered his head. Light, Maker of Worlds, please guide me. He had witnessed the love between his parents and hoped for the same. But he also knew that kind of love was rare between grand lords and ladies and their consorts.

  If he couldn’t marry for love, then he at least wanted to marry for a greater good. And the greater good at this moment was uniting the Great Houses and figuring out who was working behind the scenes and assassinating those of lesser houses.

  As Damien finished changing into clean clothes, there was a knock at his door. As he turned, Sten, one of his guards, emerged from the room to the right and headed for the door. There was a small exchange between Sten and the servant outside, then he closed the door, a small piece of paper in his hand.

  “A message for you,” Sten said as he crossed the room. The guard was a short, stocky man, the same age as Taegis, with thick grey hair and callused hands. He was fiercely loyal to House Maris, and one of the few guards Damien had known since he was a young boy.

  Damien took the note from Sten and opened the folded parchment.

  If you are still willing, I would like to meet with you. I have information and a request relating to our coalition. My servant will meet you at your room tonight after dinner and will escort you to my private rooms. He can be trusted and will ensure that you are not seen.

  Caiaphas

  Damien’s stomach tightened as he refolded the note and tucked it inside his jacket. Ever since he’d sent the note weeks ago, he’d wondered when Caiaphas would approach him about a meeting. Looked like he’d found an opportunity. Damien was still willing to meet with his father’s friend and fellow cohort, but Taegis would not be happy.

  Still, Damien would not miss out on an opportunity to find out what Caiaphas knew, not with the importance of these talks and the encroachment of the empire. Someone—or someones—were working against the unity of the Great Houses, and if he was to help lead the houses toward collaboration, he needed to know who or what he was fighting against.

  He would finish the work his father had started.

  27

  Lady Bryren stood and leaned across the meeting table. Her copper hair hung wildly around her shoulders, small braids and beads woven within the strands. Her leather and fur attire stood out amongst the silk and dyed-wool tunics and dresses. Her light brown eyes were accentuated by the dark kohl painted around her eyelids, giving her a fierce appearance. Not that she needed the barbaric attire to make her appear menacing—her very being exuded the raw power and courage her house was known for.

  “Is House Friere blind? Is that why you cannot see the threat on your doorstep? Or are you cowards, hiding your heads behind your fingers and hoping Commander Orion will be content to stay within his borders?”

  Lord Ivulf’s lip curled, making him appear more wolfish than usual. His amber eyes seemed to almost smolder as he stared at Lady Bryren. “And what does House Merek know of the wall? It is my house that has kept the wall intact between our lands and the Dominia Empire for these hundreds of years. We live on the very edge of the empire. You and your house live on islands, far from the supposed conflict. Your understanding is based on the words of House Vivek and House Maris, not on facts.”

  Damien bristled at Lord Ivulf’s accusation, and his hand curled along the tabletop. Sunlight streamed through the narrow windows that encompassed the round meeting room, yet the light did not reach the center table. Only the chandelier overhead lit the area, doing so in such a way that it left shadows between the different houses in an almost foreboding manner.

  Lord Rune Vivek narrowed his eyes at Lord Ivulf. “You seem to forget that it is my people as well who live in the shadow of the wall and of the empire. We also have the ‘facts.’ And the fact is, Commander Orion is testing our defenses, searching for a weak spot where he can cross over to our lands.”

  “There is no weakness to be found along the wall.”

  Lady Bryren sat back down and sneered. “No, the only weakness is House Friere.”

  Damien grit his teeth. As much as he admired Lady Bryren’s fearlessness, sometimes it bordered on recklessness. Her hot words were doing nothing to bring the houses together.

  Nearby, Lord Leo Luceras pinched his nose, annoyed. Lord Haruk Rafel looked on the scene grimly from beneath his deep green cowl. Lady Ragna stared icily at Lady Bryren from Lord Ivulf’s side.

  Lord Ivulf slowly stood, his fur cloak towering around him. “Weakness, you say? We are weak because we choose not to pick a fight with the Dominia Empire? We are weak because we are not warmongering like some of the houses here? We are weak because we see the foolishness in starting a war with the empire? A war that would wipe out our people first before the empire ever reached your shores?”

  Lady Bryren lifted her nose. “You are weak because you will not fight the danger that is clearly encroaching on your land. You claim to protect your people? Then do it!”

  Lord Ivulf’s hands curled. Like metal heating in a blacksmith’s fire, his fists began to turn red and burn. A slip of smoke wafted up from his clenched fists.

  Lady Bryren’s eyes darted from Lord Ivulf’s hands to his face. “Do you think I’m afraid of your power?”

  “Your gift of courage has always been a double-edged sword for House Merek. You are brave, Lady Bryren, but you are also foolhardy to mess with the House of Fire.” His fists now burned with a white heat, edged in red. However, there wasn’t a burn mark on the table beneath his hands.

  “Lord Ivulf.” Lady Ragna placed a hand on his forearm, her dark eyes firmly planted on Lady Bryren. “This is not the place for accusations. This is a place to find out the truth, and then to act on it.”

  Damien sat back, one leg over the other, his fingers steepled in front of him. He exuded a persona of calmness, but inside he was shaking. Why were House Ravenwood and House Friere so adamantly denying the advancement of the Dominia Empire or what Commander Orion had already done to the eastern continent?

  “What truth are you talking about, Lady Ragna?” Damien asked. “The one that is visible, that has been observed by countless people? Or the one you want to believe?”

  Her eyes grew even darker, almost black. “What one can see can be manipulated, Lord Damien. Because of that, ob
servation alone is not a basis for truth.”

  Lord Rune slammed his hands onto the table, startling his sister Runa beside him. “We are getting nowhere! We are running around in a verbal circle like a wild dog chasing its tail. And while we fight amongst each other, the empire will come and destroy our land and people.”

  “Lord Rune is right.” Damien looked around the table. “Whether the empire is coming or not, one thing is certain: we are not united. We are fractured and cracked along the seams, which makes us vulnerable. And when we are vulnerable, our people and lands are vulnerable. We must repair that first before any other action can be taken.”

  “And how exactly do we do that?” Lady Ragna asked. “Do some of us simply forget offenses committed against our houses? Do we trust again and hope we will not be wiped out?”

  “Eventually we need to get to that point, yes,” Damien said.

  “Easy for you to say, House Maris. Your house was never destroyed. Same with all of you.” Lady Ragna glanced at each head of house. Lord Leo returned her stare with a stoic one of his own while Lord Rune and Lord Haruk glanced away in shame. “No one came to the aid of my ancestors. It is hard to trust when such is our history.”

  “And yet, like you said, it is in the past. If we cannot move on from the past, then in the past we will always remain. Trust takes faith. Will you take that step, Lady Ragna?”

  “I must have a reason to. And I have not found that reason yet.”

  Damien rubbed the side of his forehead. Such stubbornness!

  “I am with Lady Ragna.” Lord Ivulf glared over the room. “Show us why we should trust all of you.”

  Lady Bryren’s nostrils flared. “The same could be said of you as well. Why should I trust you?”

  Lord Ivulf smirked. “Like Lord Damien said, you would have to take a step of faith.”

  “I would rather kiss the back end of a wyvern.”

  Lord Ivulf stood to his feet and stared daggers at Lady Bryren. “You call yourself a grand lady of a Great House, but you appear and talk like a barbarian.”

  Lady Bryren shot to her feet. “At least I am honest about who I am and where I come from, instead of dressing brazenly and putting on an air of superior importance.”

  Lord Ivulf’s hands blazed again as he shouted out a retort.

  Lord Leo crossed his arms, his jaw tight. Lord Haruk bowed his head and sighed. Lord Rune looked like he was going to burst a vein along his forehead.

  Damien scrubbed a hand over his face. Dear Light in heaven! Were they lords and ladies of the Great Houses or squabbling children? He would need to talk to Lady Bryren later about how easily she rose to Lord Ivulf’s taunting. It was up to them, the younger leaders of the Great Houses, to show the elder leaders that they were capable of leading and maintaining a level head.

  But as he watched the shouting match start anew between Lady Bryren and Lord Ivulf, with comments thrown in by Lord Rune, he wasn’t sure that could happen. And if that couldn’t happen, then uniting the seven houses was beyond the realm of possibilities.

  Were they destined to lose in the end—either to the empire or to their own contentious ways?

  28

  Damien barely ate a bite at dinner that night, and almost contemplated excusing himself from the meal early, but he didn’t need any extra attention on himself. The talks had grown even more divided, and the yelling match today between House Friere and House Merek only emphasized how much.

  He rubbed his temple and sighed. Not surprising. Both houses were known for their hot tempers. Even now, Lady Bryren refused to look at the head of the table where Lord Ivulf sat next to Lady Ragna—

  Damien sat up and watched the head table covertly. Every night, Lord Ivulf was seated at Lady Ragna’s left. All the other houses were moved around the dining hall, but not House Friere. He narrowed his eyes. Why?

  His gaze moved to Caiaphas. The man sat as regal as usual at Lady Ragna’s side, but anyone could see her attention was fully on Lord Ivulf. She never spoke a word to Caiaphas. Instead, he ate quietly beside her.

  The consummate consort.

  Damien glanced away and swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth—and caught Lady Selene watching him from the end of the table. She looked so different tonight than she had that morning. Her dark hair was pulled up in a noble manner, held in place with a silver circlet. A thin silver chain hung around her neck with a single diamond pendant. Once again he was struck by how simply Lady Selene dressed compared to the other women present, even Lady Bryren, yet she still came across as the most ladylike of them all.

  He also remembered how she looked this morning with her hair bound in one long braid, her face shining from her exercise, her body moving in harmony with her swords. She was an entirely different creature compared to the one who sat at the table tonight.

  Lady Selene looked away and lifted a crystal goblet to her lips.

  Damien picked up his two-pronged fork and knife and prodded the fish on his plate.

  Where did she learn to fight like that? And why? House Luceras and House Merek taught their women to fight, but he had never heard of House Ravenwood fighting. And her style was so foreign . . . and so beautiful.

  “So how are things along the Northern Shores?” Lord Elric asked as he took a bite of bread. The younger Luceras lord was so casual compared to his older brothers, Leo and Tyrn. Just like Quinn had been.

  Damien took a bite of the fish and chewed, allowing a small bit of time to compose his emotions. Then he answered, carrying on a light conversation with Elric, but moments later his thoughts were drawn back to Lady Selene and the mystery she held.

  After dinner, he retired to his rooms and waited for Caiaphas’s servant to come for him. He did not have to wait long.

  Taegis answered the door, then glanced back at Damien with a puzzled look on his face as Damien approached the door. “The servant says he’s here to escort you to Caiaphas’s study,” Taegis said quietly.

  “Yes, I received a message from him this morning.”

  The frown on Taegis’s face deepened. “Do you think this is wise?”

  “I want to hear what he has to say.”

  Damien could see disagreement all over Taegis’s face. But Damien owed it to Caiaphas—and to his father—to hear the Ravenwood consort out. It was his father and Caiaphas who had first cast the vision of the houses working together and put in place a coalition for that purpose.

  Taegis sighed. “Then let me come with you.”

  “I don’t want any attention. Stay here. I will be there and back before the evening expires.”

  Before Taegis could protest, Damien headed out into the hall and followed the servant. It was moments like these where it was difficult to be a grand lord and make decisions that his elders did not approve of. Especially Taegis.

  The servant led Damien through the darkly lit corridors to the west wing where the Ravenwood family resided. They ascended a staircase to the second floor, then the servant stopped and opened the nearest door.

  “Thank you,” Damien said as he stepped inside.

  The servant nodded and shut the door behind him.

  Bookcases filled the room, taking up almost every inch of stone wall available. Between the bookcases were lead-paned windows overlooking the night sky and Magyr Mountains. A desk stood in one corner, and two comfortable chairs were in the other. Candles were lit, filling the room with a soft glow. The air smelled of pipe weed, vanilla, and wood—comfort smells. Caiaphas gently placed a book down on the table between the chairs and stood. The dim light accentuated the dark circles beneath his eyes, and he looked older than his fifty winters.

  He gave Damien a tired smile that reached his eyes. “Lord Damien, thank you for coming.”

  Damien bowed his head. “Thank you for inviting me. I admit, your message from a couple of weeks ago piqued my curiosity.”

  Caiaphas was quiet for a moment as he studied Damien’s face. “You really do look like your father did at your age,” he m
urmured. “How I miss Lord Remfrey. He was a good man and a good friend.”

  Damien swallowed. “I miss him as well.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Caiaphas came around the chair to stand next to Damien in the middle of the room. “The role of a grand lord is not an easy one, and I can imagine to have that responsibility thrust upon you at such a young age is hard. But from what I’ve seen and heard, you’re doing an extraordinary job.”

  “Thank you. I only hope to do as well as my father did before me.”

  “And you will. Now, to get on to business. Please take a seat.” Caiaphas motioned toward the chairs near the windows. Damien took the one on the right, and Caiaphas sat down on the left.

  Caiaphas leaned forward and folded his hands across his knee. “First, how are the talks going?”

  Damien shook his head. “No matter what information House Vivek or I share about what the empire is doing, some of the other houses do not see the Dominia Empire as a threat.”

  Caiaphas pursed his lips together. “Not surprising. Strife between the houses has been there since the creation of the seven houses.” He stared at Damien. “Some houses would rather allow the empire to invade our lands than work with each other.”

  Damien narrowed his eyes. There was a cryptic tone to Caiaphas’s voice and manner. Was the older man trying to tell him something? Something bound by a house secret? “I had hoped it would be different. Especially with the Dominia Empire testing our boundaries, both on water and on land.”

  “Tell me how each house is reacting.” Caiaphas sat back and waited.

  Damien rubbed his temple and sighed. Taegis would caution him about what he shared, but his father had trusted Caiaphas. Despite his submissive demeanor when Caiaphas was around Lady Ragna, there was a keen intellect in those steel grey eyes of his. Damien wondered if Lady Ragna knew what manner of man she had married—and who was playing who.

  “House Vivek and my own house see the Dominia Empire as a threat. Not only have they tested our boundaries, but from what I’ve heard, the new commander, Orion, seems as bent on domination as his predecessor, Commander Tolrun.”