All the windows were shuttered, and Daken went around opening them, so that the musty smell of disuse was quickly replaced with the invigorating aroma of the sea. There was little dust, thanks to the shutters and the couple on the island who looked after the place during the winter. But Jocelyn still found it strange and rather intimidating to be here without any servants.
Before the day had ended, however, she was glad that he’d insisted on this trip. Never in her life had she been utterly alone with one person and it felt very daring and free.
They took off their shoes and walked on the soft, sandy beach, stopping regularly to examine the empty shells of sea creatures that had washed up and watching the birds that sought food along the water's edge.
Daken was fascinated by the sea. He said he hadn’t known it was so restless, so constantly in motion, but had believed it would simply be a larger version of the lakes in the Dark Mountains. The captain had explained to him about tides, though, and he understood that now.
He wanted to swim, but Jocelyn, after dipping a hand into the water, declared that it was too cold. Daken, however, accustomed to the greater cold of the lakes in the Dark Mountains, stripped off his clothing and waded in, then began to swim in long, powerful strokes as Jocelyn sat on the beach and watched him.
When he emerged, naked and wet, her passion flared anew, and they made love on the beach, using his clothes as a bed, then reluctantly went inside when the sun dipped below the crest of the island behind them and the air began to grow cool.
They went to bed early and spent the night in a love that was no less passionate, but more tender as they now found it possible to control that passion. Jocelyn had told him about how she had often arisen before dawn to watch the sun come up over the sea, and Daken awoke her in the soft, gray light so that they could watch this wonder together.
Blissful days and nights followed. Daken proved that they could manage quite well without servants. Their meals weren’t as elaborate as those prepared by the palace kitchens or by Tassa at the fortress, but they were good. When the fishermen brought them some of their catch, Daken got from them as well instructions on how to prepare them. Accustomed to the highly spiced or sauced versions served by her staff, Jocelyn was pleasantly surprised to find the simple recipes Daken prepared truly delicious.
Several small sailboats were kept on the island, and Daken hauled one of them down to the dock, then took it out, at first alone, so that he could be certain he could handle it, and then with Jocelyn aboard. The man of the mountains was rapidly becoming a man of the sea as well.
But there were times when she would find him sitting on the beach staring at the sea with a haunted expression. After seeing this several times, she sat down beside him and asked if he were thinking of his home.
He nodded slowly, his gaze still directed at the sea. "I had not thought to miss it so much. I like it here, but inside, there is this need to go home. It doesn’t feel natural to me. I think perhaps the gods have made us this way, so that we will never again be tempted to try to set the world aright."
And so it began. Jocelyn, who had known that they must talk, had carefully steered all conversation away from this subject, wanting to cling to this beautiful time together. And Daken as well had avoided it. It hadn’t really been his intention to talk now, but with that one remark, there seemed to be no other conversational course they could take.
So she told him about the tales spread by the Sherbas and about her meeting with their leader. He sat quietly, but his gaze was now on her, not the sea. And when she had exhausted her tale, he confirmed that it was all true.
"It was the hope of my people to bring the life we had to all, but we failed. We were so righteous, so sure that the rest of the world would accept what we believed to be the way people were intended to live.
“But in the end, the gods called us home to the Dark Mountains in much the same way that I now feel called to return. It is a pain, maiza, a need that grows ever stronger inside me."
He paused for a moment, staring intently at her, then went on in a bitter tone, "But I do not understand why the gods, who surely sent you to me, now demand that I leave you."
Jocelyn fought back her tears and thought again about that choice she'd once tormented herself with—her throne or him. She could give up neither, but she knew she must give up one.
They spoke no more of it then, as each tried to console the other, and soothing caresses and words turned slowly to lovemaking. But two days later, when the fisherman appeared, they asked him to have a boat sent to Ertria to summon the captain.
In the interim, they walked many miles on the strip of beach, bypassing the pain for a time by talking about Ertria’s future. Daken urged her to be both bold and patient as she tried to make changes and suggested that she seek the counsel of the Sher- bas, perhaps even making a few of them her advisors.
"They are a good people, dedicated to peace and justice, and they have no wealth or land of their own to sway their advice.”
Jocelyn agreed with him, but knew it was going to be very difficult to bring into court such as they— assuming, of course, that they would agree to come. Daken said they would, that he would speak to their leader.
He also asked her not to exact a tribute from their former enemies. Neither land was as wealthy as Ertria to begin with, he pointed out, and they had suffered great losses in the brief war.
"But that would make me seem weak," she protested, ever-conscious of being a woman who would presume to rule.
"No, it will make you generous," he insisted. "And even if they should think you weak, they cannot attack Ertria again. They have lost most of their army, and know, furthermore, that if they attack, they will again face the Kassid.”
As for Balek, he wanted the garrison to remain in their hands and for Ertria to permit the Baleks to handle their own affairs.
“They can remain a part of the empire, but still rule themselves to as great an extent as possible. It is a rich land with few inhabitants, so they will always need protection. But their nobles are closer to their people than yours are, and I believe they would rule justly, save for the few who have remained too long at the Ertrian court and would most likely choose to remain there."
Then, when she despaired of her court, he told her that he would gather them together and let them know that her wishes were his as well, thereby letting them know that they risked the wrath of the Kassid if they attempted any insurrection.
"I know that that will make your authority seem less, maiza, but there is no other way. Just remem-
ber that it has less to do with your being a woman than it does with the fact that you will be forcing them to change."
In the end, she accepted that because, as he said, there was no other way.
They returned to the palace and she called her court together to hear Daken. He’d already met with Hammad and had that estimable man's full support.
Her courtiers were obviously nervous as they gathered in the Great Hall. Certainly they had heard the story circulated by the Sherbas, and Jocelyn thought that they probably expected her to announce that the Kassid would now rule the empire.
Instead, she introduced the beginnings of her plans—tax reform (and there was no doubt that they understood just what she meant by that] it was in their faces), free basic education for all citizens (they were too shocked at the first item for this one to register), and the inclusion of several Sherbas in her circle of advisors if they were willing.
“And that is just a beginning," she stated, looking from one stunned face to another. "When the people have been educated, there will be elections for a parliament to advise me.”
Daken silenced the beginnings of protest that followed this announcement. "Your empress has convinced me that she should retain you as advisors, although I would have preferred to see you all put into the dungeons."
He paused, and although Jocelyn could not see his expression, since he stood beside her, she could certainly see
the naked fear on their faces.
He went on to excoriate them for their corruption and greed and said that his men had not saved the empire to have this continue.
"The Kassid once ruled this land and then we withdrew, hoping you would make it a just place for all to live in peace. Instead, people starve while you parade yourselves at court wearing enough gold to fill all their stomachs for a lifetime.
"You will either work with the empress to achieve these reforms, or we will return and take everything from you. I will leave soon for the Dark Mountains, but we will come quickly if we are needed. Ham- mad’s men will be constructing mirror towers across Ertria and Balek to signal us.”
He paused, then went on in a quietly menacing tone that brought a chill even to Jocelyn. "Now I would have each of you swear to your empress that you will follow her dictates and take no actions to thwart them."
Jocelyn had known what he planned to say to them, but he hadn't told her that he intended to make them swear to obey her. It was, she thought, a brilliant move to force these arrogant men to make such a pledge on bended knee.
Hammad stepped forth first. Jocelyn thought this unnecessary, but she suspected that he and Daken had planned this, to show that he and the army supported her in what was to come.
The next man to step forth was Eryk. Jocelyn hadn't seen him and hadn't expected him to be at court, since he wasn’t, strictly speaking, one of her advisors. She detected Hammad's hand in this; he was Eryk’s uncle. And as one of the wealthiest and most powerful of the nobles, his support was essential.
The others followed. Most of them looked as though they’d just been forced to eat something exceedingly bitter, but one by one, they knelt before her and made their pledges.
When it was over, she dismissed all but Hammad and Eryk and extended a hand to each of them in gratitude.
“I have had it in mind for some time to educate the people who work for me," Eryk told her. “Both on my ships and on the farms—and even in the mines—new ideas are being tested. The time will come soon, I think, when it will be necessary for people to read and write and do simple sums just to do their jobs.” He smiled at Jocelyn.
“Naturally, I am pleased that the court will do this at its expense, not mine."
“But it will be at your expense, to some extent, Eryk, now that you have promised to pay your fair share of taxes." Jocelyn returned his smile.
“I won’t even mind that, since most of the others will be harder hit than I will. I’ve never cheated all that much—at least not by comparison with them."
Then he turned to Daken. "And I would like to know more about these signal towers. I may set up a system of my own for my lands."
Daken explained them, and Hammad told him of the plans to erect them, and Jocelyn sat there listening and thinking happily about the future.
She didn’t doubt that, despite their promises, many would try to undermine her work. But as
Daken had said, with a combination of firmness and patience, she would prevail.
Only when they had returned to her suite did the future lose its brilliant promise and the bleakness of a life without Daken begin to set in again—a life that would begin tomorrow, since he planned to depart for the Dark Mountains with the dawn.
Most of his men had already returned, after resting a few days in their camp at the city’s edge. Hammad was sending a few men with him as far as Balek, where they would train the Baleks to take over the garrison permanently. On the way, they planned to seek out an appropriate place to build another small fortress that would serve as a meeting place for Daken and her.
Once a year, they would meet there—and try to fit a year’s worth of love into a few weeks. It was an imperfect solution, but the only one available to them.
They ate their dinner in her suite, then sat before the fire. Both were quiet and content for the moment to simply hold each other. Jocelyn realized for the first time that although she would certainly miss their lovemaking, what she would miss even more was simply his presence.
He filled her life and made it whole, though she hadn’t known until she’d fallen in love with him that it was incomplete. He was always quick to sense her moods and draw her down from her angry flare-ups, or bring her up from the depths of despair. Now she would have to face that alone— and the despair would be even greater.
Then suddenly, she remembered the secret room, the Kassid place, that she had yet to tell him about. Whether she recalled it at that moment because she had recalled the peace she’d found there, or whether the gods themselves put the thought into her mind, she would never know—but later, she would be inclined to believe the gods had spoken to her.
If Jocelyn was beginning to find faith, Daken, at that moment, was in danger of losing it. The gods had continued to whisper to him that they would not have to be parted—and yet it was about to happen. As he sat there holding her on this last night, he wondered if they were playing a cruel joke on him for their own unknowable reasons.
His faith in the gods, at least insofar as their constant presence in his life was concerned, had never been as strong as that of many of his people. Never before had they whispered to him—and now they did so with lies. Perhaps he deserved it, for having so little faith.
Such were his thoughts when she suddenly moved out of his arms and spoke his name excitedly.
“Daken! There is something I forgot to tell you— a discovery I made many years ago.”
Then she stopped abruptly. “No, I think I will show you instead. Come."
She led him from the suite, then through back corridors and down many steps until they reached a broken wall that looked to have been more recently built than its neighbors.
“My father had this built," she told him, "After he found out that I’d been down here exploring."
She led him over the rubble of the wall, then down long, empty corridors. At one point, after they’d made a turn, he began to worry that they’d become lost down here. But she seemed so intent and so purposeful that he decided to trust her.
And then, a few moments later, he felt something—a strong pull, a beckoning. This time, he turned into an intersecting corridor before she did.
“Do you feel something?" she asked in a hushed voice.
He merely nodded and began to walk faster, forgetting how difficult it was for her to keep up with him until he heard her rapid footsteps echoing in the silence. Then he forced himself to slow down.
"It’s down there," she said when they reached a steep, narrow staircase that wound down out of sight.
He didn’t have to be told. He had no idea what was down there, but he felt the presence of the gods very strongly.
At the bottom of the steps was a door. He reached out to touch it, instantly recognizing the wood and the workmanship.
“Kassid," he said, his voice loud in the small space.
"Yes—and so is what lies beyond it. I think the palace must have been built on the ruins of an old Kassid fortress."
But he didn’t hear her. His hand was already on the tarnished brass handle. Unlike Jocelyn and Hammad, he didn’t tug hard at it. He knew the workmanship of his people. No matter how old it might be, it would open easily.
He stopped just inside the room, watching as the torchlight picked up the golden drawings. A sayet— the sanctuary of the gods. Exactly like the one at the fortress. He heard her voice as a distant murmur as the peace of the place filled him. It was a long time before he realized that she had fallen silent, then turned to see that she had left the room. Forsaking that peace for the moment, he hurried after her.
She stood quietly at the bottom of the stairs. "It is a sacred place for you, isn’t it? I could feel that, and I thought you would want to be alone.”
He told her it was, and named it in his language. ‘There is such a room in the fortress—in all of the fortresses. We go there in times of trouble, to seek the peace of the gods. And we go there too to seek their blessings when we marry or when a child
is born."
"But we didn't go there,” she said, and he could hear the hurt in her voice.
"No. I chose not to take you there. I knew you didn't believe in the old gods, and it seemed wrong to take a non-believer there. When did you discover this room?"
She told him of her childish explorations and how she’d kept it secret, then told him how she’d realized in the Dark Mountains that it must be a Kassid place.
"I told Hammad about it when I returned, and he had the wall tom down so we could come down here to test my memory. Hammad didn't feel anything; his interest was only in the history. But I felt something, Daken—and I felt it again just now. A great sense of peace."
He nodded slowly. “That is what we feel. So even if you have not accepted the gods, they have accepted you.”
"Such power frightens me, Daken, but I can no longer deny that it exists. To deny that would be to deny you."
He took her hand. "Come back into the room with me.”
They went back into the blackness, this time leaving the torches outside. Jocelyn was terrified at the utter blackness, but with Daken’s arms around her, that wondrous peace flowed through her again.
There they stood for a long time, wrapped in each other's arms, but not speaking. Jocelyn heard those indistinct murmurs and was sure that he must hear them better because he had become very still and attentive.
Then at last, he made a strange, choking sort of sound, and she put up a hand to seek his face. His cheeks were wet with tears.
“Daken, what is it? What’s wrong?"
"Did you not hear them, maiza?" He asked in an unsteady voice.
"I ... I heard or felt something, but not words.”
He gathered her more tightly into his arms, then bent to find her mouth for a long, passion-filled kiss.
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