Nightfall: Book Two of the Chronicles of Arden

by Shiriluna Nott

  Koal’s strained voice came next. “Neetra can’t be trusted to go, Mrifa. If I don’t go then he is next in line. The Northern Empire is too powerful and dangerous to entrust to him.”

  “But the King wanted him to go—”

  “No. Rishi is an idiot—and also desperate. If he were thinking clearly he wouldn’t even entertain the idea of sending Neetra.”

  “He’s desperate because his son is going as well. He knows how dangerous this is!”

  Koal sighed, and it took a while for him to respond. “I know. He has every reason to worry for his son. Hasain will likely be viewed as the product of a traitor and could fall victim to some imbecile still holding a grudge. That’s why it’s my responsibility to go and—”

  Something slammed, perhaps her hand on the dining table. “You have responsibilities here, too! Life doesn’t stand still in this house just because you’re gone so often!”

  Gib winced. Was this what was in store for him should he join the High Council? “What of your daughter and her heart? How long will you keep Heidi waiting for an answer?”

  “Not this right now. I have important things to worry over! Promising Heidi to a suitor is the least of my concerns—”

  “Three years! You have kept her waiting for three years. She is seventeen. Her friends are courting or engaged. One of them is already married. She wants to be able to have a family, but she also wants your permission to do this properly.”

  “There are more pressing matters!”

  “There are always more pressing matters!”

  Gib rested his forehead against the wall and closed his eyes. He’d never heard Lady Mrifa yell before, and it tore him up inside.

  “This is your family, or what’s left of it with both our sons going—” Her gasp was wet, and Gib had to fight back his own tears.

  Light footsteps sounded, and the rustling of fabric followed. Koal’s voice was low, too quiet for Gib to pick up the words, but he caught their meaning. Hushed sounds of comfort and tender promises were made. There may have even been a kiss. Gib seriously considered heading for the back door and ignoring Otos or Tabitha if they saw him.

  The lady seemed to pull herself together though. “There is no choice? They must go?”

  “I’ve tried to deny them. I’ve also tried to talk them out of it, but they’re both stubborn.”

  Lady Mrifa sniffled. “I know. They’re so different from one another, but they both have your stubborn streak.” She took a ragged breath. “And Heidi—she needs an answer.”

  Koal sighed. “I know. Look, when I return, if Nawaz wants to marry Heidi, I will allow it. If no one else has made an offer, Nawaz will be given full permission to pursue her.”

  “Other offers? You know she has her heart set on him.”

  “He’s never once asked me for her hand, Mrifa. He’s never offered to court her. You can’t force affection.”

  Gib thought of Kezra. She and Nawaz seemed well suited to one another, better than he and Heidi—

  Mrifa lowered her voice. “If Nawaz doesn’t marry her, I don’t know that she’ll marry at all.” A poignant silence fell over the entire house.

  Is this unrequited love? Heidi and I may not be so different. If I can’t have Joel, I don’t know if I can love anyone else.

  Koal offered more words of comfort, and the husband and wife slipped away toward the sitting room. Gib waited for them to be well out of earshot before he made for the door. He’d just reached for the handle when another sound caught his attention. More sniffling.

  He turned, just as Heidi crept away from the shadowed place by the stairs. Her footfalls were ghostly silent, and she passed him with barely a second glance. The hollowed despair in her eyes resonated deep in Gib’s soul. Tonight their sorrows were mutual.

  Chapter Five

  The climbing sun had yet to breech Silver’s eastern horizon, its vibrant rose and violet tendrils only just beginning to lighten the heavens. The sunrise would have been beautiful if not for the dark storm clouds in the western sky and the promise of impending rain. Gib pulled his cloak tighter and bustled across the palace courtyard at Koal’s heels.

  Forsaking the early mark, more people were present than Gib would have thought. Dean Marc—of all people—had somehow beaten them there and stood with the royal family and families of the other envoys. They had formed a farewell party on the open terrace facing the courtyard.

  Joel seemed determined to stay three careful steps ahead of Gib. He never looked back, and the two young men hadn’t shared a single word since they’d met up at the palace gate. Joel’s white mage robes flowed behind him, hindered only slightly by his rucksack. It looked like he was travelling light, but perhaps that was normal for an envoy. Gib wouldn’t know, and he supposed he’d never have reason to ask now. He locked his jaw, forcing himself to look away. He’ll be fine. They’ll all be fine.

  As they approached, Queen Dahlia came forward to hug her brother. “Mrifa and the girls?”

  Koal’s voice was a trained calm as he embraced her. “At home. They saw us off.”

  Gib closed his eyes, trying not to imagine the haunted, lost look Lady Mrifa’s eyes must have held as she said her goodbyes. The poor lady. She stands to lose her husband and both sons.

  “Of course.” Queen Dahlia nodded. Her voice held a broken quality, and Gib was sure she’d been crying.

  Gib stayed back as Joel hugged Diddy and the rest of his cousins. Joel’s beautiful smile seemed forced as they all wished him well. Gib’s heart clenched. It wouldn’t always be like this, would it? Surely this devastating pain would eventually subside.

  Gib raised his head just as Marc slapped Koal on the back. The dean wore the biggest smile of anyone there. “Clean knickers every day and wash behind your ears.”

  Koal shoved Marc aside and dropped his pack to the ground with a light thud. “Maybe we should take you. I reckon the Northern Empire could use a new court jester.”

  Marc laughed so loudly it earned a couple of looks from the others. “I’ll pass. Now, you’re sure you want to leave Gib under my watch? Am I allowed to make him miserable?” He stole a devilish look across the yard, and Gib found himself smiling faintly in return.

  “Run. It’s your only chance.” King Rishi approached so quietly Gib hadn’t heard his footfalls at all. He began to bow, but the King waved a flippant hand. “Don’t do that here. There’s no one to impress.”

  Any apology Gib could think of died on his lips as he was pushed aside by the others as they followed the King. Aodan’s ever-watchful dark eye glinted in the sunlight, and the strange Blessed Mages, NezReth and Natori, walked so lightly it almost seemed as though they were floating across the dew-covered grass.

  The King wasted no time going to Koal, and a moment later, Cenric Leal joined them. A girl about Gib’s age followed on the envoy’s heels. She was carrying a large roll of parchment and, at the King’s command, she unfurled it to reveal a weathered map. Curiosity overtook Gib’s troubled mind, and he wandered closer, though he made sure to stay out of their way.

  Cenric’s helper held one end of the large map while Koal took hold of the other. This left King Rishi and Cenric to point to various places and discuss methods of escape. Gib’s gut clenched again. Why were they going to the Northern Empire if it was so dangerous? Would this really be the last time he would see either his mentor or his love? The cold bite of reason clamped down on his heart. Joel isn’t mine anymore.

  Gib shifted his attention back to Joel, watching as the mage spoke quietly to his cousins. Hasain stood with them, one arm around his weeping mother. Gib recognized her from working in the royal kitchen. Rya was her name, he vaguely remembered Hasain mentioning. She’d never looked as frail as she did in this moment, saying what may be her final goodbyes to her son. Gib ached for her and for his own broken heart.

  Cenric’s voice lifted over the hum in Gib’s ears. “This is all fine and well, Highness, but we must hope for the best. Should we have to flee Te
ivel, we all know how slim our chances will be.”

  The King’s mouth slanted into a fine line. “I am well aware of the direness of the situation, Ambassador. However, I feel it advantageous to discuss your best possible escape routes now, if in the unlikely event any of you walk out of there alive.”

  Gib sucked in a sharp breath, and the girl holding the map did the same.

  Koal cleared his throat, fixing sharp eyes on the King. “Enough of this. Let’s not collect the fee for our tombs just yet. We’re alive and well now.”

  “Agreed,” Cenric insisted. “And we may just be standing on the precipice of history. Who knows what good fortune this venture may bring.” He clapped the girl on her shoulder and gave her a smile, but something in Cenric’s voice suggested even he wasn’t convinced.

  Gib looked over to Joel once more and caught the mage’s devastated blue eyes. Why was he doing this? One as young as he had no good reason to go. Hasain had the misfortune of representing the royal family, and Liro apparently insisted on going, but Joel was only a freshly graduated mage. He had one envoy mission under his belt. He wasn’t a politician and stood to gain nothing from this mission except near certain death. The hollow ache in Gib’s chest made him want to heave.

  The sound of the map being rerolled brought him back to the present. The girl cradled the parchment as if it were a child, and she stood so close to Cenric she could have been holding his hand. Gib wiped a hand across his eyes and refused to look back to Joel.

  Koal was complaining about his eldest son under his breath. “Where is Liro? If he’s not here when the portal opens then we’ll have to leave him behind.”

  “That’d be a shame,” Aodan muttered, never looking away from the stone archway. Gib only now realized the King’s bodyguard bore a blade on his left hip and bracers on each arm. Gib frowned. The Blessed Mages were also behaving peculiarly, or rather, more peculiarly than normal. They had swept across the yard and seemed to be examining the stone archway where the portal would form. The King watched them narrowly.

  None of this did anything to help settle Gib’s already frayed nerves. Are they worried about an attack? Should I have a weapon too?

  His hands rested uneasily on his hips as he watched the Blessed Mages continue to circle and examine the arch. The longer they took, the more certain Gib was that he didn’t want Joel to go. Something shook inside him—a terrible rage he would rather ignore than acknowledge he was capable of. Would Joel still go if Gib demanded the mage stay? And if not, was there a way for Gib to rush the portal as well and go with them? He may not have a sword in hand, but he could damned well get between Joel and an oncoming attack.

  Gib’s thoughts were derailed by a heavy sigh. He looked over in time to catch the King staring at Koal. All of the ruler’s vigor seemed to have withered away, leaving him to suddenly look old and frail.

  Koal must have felt the heavy look on his back, for he turned to face the King. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

  King Rishi shook his head. “No. You’re going to die—and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

  Koal cast a look toward the family members gathered close by. “Keep your voice down. And, in case you didn’t know, I have no intention of dying. I’m no fool. I’ll keep my guard up while I’m there—”

  “Take Aodan with you. He has sworn to go and watch over you all.”

  “No. Who’d be left to watch over you? I won’t be here. You’ll need him all the more.”

  “This is ludicrous!” King Rishi balked. “A fine king in a grand kingdom. I can’t stop my seneschal from meeting his death or send my bodyguard to protect him for fear of being stabbed in my back! I can’t even protect my own son—or yours.”

  King Rishi glanced over toward where Hasain and Joel stood on the terrace with the royal family, and Gib couldn’t help but look, too. Hasain deliberately avoided eye contact, and Joel busied himself by talking to the youngest of the royal children, Crowned Prince Deegan and Princess Gudrin. If the mage felt their eyes at his back, he didn’t indicate it.

  Koal dropped his voice so low Gib had to strain to hear it. “Rishi, I–I swear to you, I will protect Hasain—with my own life if need be. He and Joel will be under my constant watch.” He took a shuddering breath and gazed across the courtyard, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular. “However, in the event I don’t return—”

  “Mrifa and the girls will be looked after. They are of little consequence to those who seek to undo you or me. I promise they will be cared for.” The King glared into the same distance.

  A creeping sensation that time was no longer on his side made Gib realize he should perhaps try to say a goodbye to Joel. Who knew when Gib would see Joel again—or even if he’d see him again.

  Gib refused to cry as he wandered toward the others. Hasain still held his mother under one arm, but she appeared to have collected herself for the moment. Another young man stood with them. Gib recognized him as Hasain’s younger brother, Tular. He nodded in their general direction, and Hasain returned the gesture.

  Joel’s back was an arm’s length away. Gib could have touched the pristine white robe if he’d had the courage to. Instead, Gib stood against the palace wall and hugged his arms around himself. Thunder rumbled in the vast distance, and the bleak clouds rolled across what would have been a breathtaking sunrise.

  “You’re going to watch after your sister and mother, aren’t you?” Cenric’s voice was a careful calm.

  Cenric’s assistant wiped one of her hazel eyes and nodded. “Come back to us, Da. Nia will never forgive you if she decides to marry this fella of hers and you’re not there.” Her face and neck were mottled red as she fought for control over her trembling lip.

  “You know I’ll be back,” Cenric murmured, stroking her hair. “Only death could keep me from you girls.”

  Da? So this was one of Cenric’s daughters? Gib frowned. The ambassador was leaving behind two daughters and a wife. What if he didn’t come back? Then what? Would Cenric not be present to witness Nage and his daughter married? Gib couldn’t bring himself to look directly at the pair but caught their embrace from the corner of his eye. He swallowed against the bile in his throat. None of this seemed fair. None of these people should be forced to leave their families.

  Joel’s misty blue eyes turned onto Gib, and he froze. It wasn’t worth the heartache of never saying goodbye, was it? Gib’s feet moved without his instruction toward the other man and, to his relief, Joel didn’t turn his back again.

  Gib stood before Joel for what felt like an eternity. His mind whirled, but any thought of what to say slipped from his grasp. He kept his arms around himself, unsure if he was allowed to touch his former companion or not. Joel, for his part, didn’t offer to close the gap either. What was this wall between them? Would it always be there?

  “I–I don’t know what to say,” Gib confessed. “But I don’t want you to go without saying anything.”

  Joel’s rigid posture relaxed slightly, and he sighed. “Same. I don’t know how to say goodbye to you again.” He tugged at one sleeve absently, glaring at the stone ground.

  “Goodbye is too final. Like maybe we’ll never see each other again.” Gib fought to keep from trembling. “We will, won’t we? When you come back? I will at least see you again?”

  Joel was biting his lip so hard that a red line marred his skin. “Of course. Gib, I—” Unknowable thoughts and emotions played behind his devastated eyes, and he reached out with one hand, only to drop it down by his side the next instant. The wall was still there. “When I return, I would hope to see you well and happy.” His voice was flat and there might have been more to what had been said than simple words, but Gib was too tired and hurt to try to decipher it.

  How would he have me be happy without him? Gib looked away. The sky grew darker by the moment, and the winds had begun to blow cold air through the courtyard. They were running out of time. Gib swallowed. “Promise you’ll be careful. Promise you’re
not—going to your death.” He could barely say the words.

  Joel flinched as if he’d been burned. “I will be careful, but I won’t make a vow I may not be able to keep. I have no intention of making this my final journey, but only a fool would refuse to see the inherent danger of this mission.”

  So, father and son were the same. They knew full well the risk they were taking and still refused to stay behind. Gib’s stomach twisted so hard he nearly doubled over. He fought to meet Joel’s gaze. “I would have gone with you. I would have offered my sword to protect you and Koal. Neither of you even asked.”

  “I know. And he knows. The fewer men King Rishi sends, the fewer who are in direct danger. Neither my father nor I would risk you needlessly.” Joel blinked and tipped his head back. He may have stopped the tears from spilling over, but Gib wasn’t blind. He saw them glistening in Joel’s misty eyes.

  “Strength doesn’t mean you have to act on your own.” Gib took a step forward. “You don’t have to be so vulnerable.”

  Joel shook his head. “No. I go to protect my father so he will not be alone. You stay to finish your training. Live fully.” He slammed his eyes shut and, somehow, the tears still did not fall.

  Perhaps his heart isn’t so torn as mine, Gib thought. Maybe his is already healing.

  “A cup can be full of shadow. Full and empty at once. And so my life shall be without you. But I won’t force you to stay.” Gib backed away. If Joel’s mind was set then no force in the two worlds could change it. Gib could give him nothing more than his freedom.

  The devastation on Joel’s face almost beckoned an apology. Almost—but no. Gib was too hurt to say anything more. He turned on one heel and returned to Koal’s side. Perhaps the seneschal would have some need of him before he too rushed to meet his fate.

  As Gib drew closer to his mentor, approaching footfalls sounded from across the courtyard. As if the bitter taste in Gib’s mouth wasn’t enough on its own, Liro Adelwijn made his entrance.

  Koal’s narrow eyes conveyed his sentiment. “Where were you? You’re nearly late—”