Aeron Returns (Guardians of The Realm Book 2)

by Amanda Fleet

  Faran shifted in his seat. I smiled as sweetly as I could. “I never cuckolded Faran. I implied to Aegyir that I was part of the prize, but I never paid up. It was a trick. One that worked. Aegyir was trapped and The Realm was secure.”

  I still had absolutely no memory of this, but at least Mathas had told me this earlier.

  “Perhaps if this trick worked so well last time, we should use it again?” said Mallan.

  Faran’s foot hit mine so hard as I opened my mouth that I almost cried out with the pain.

  “Perhaps we should all remember that it’s our duty to follow Lord Eredan’s commands,” I said sharply, instead. “It appears that the traitorous words are not coming from me.”

  A serving girl cleared the plates, leaving us with just cups of water to finish. We drained them and rose, the four men making a protective enclave around me again as we walked back to Faran’s rooms. There, the others made their bows and departed, leaving me and Faran alone.

  Inside, I took his jacket off and draped it over the back of a chair. “When do my clothes arrive? I am not going out in public in that again. I look stupid.”

  “You look protected. Your leathers should be here tomorrow morning.” He peeled his own jacket off and sat on the sofa, rubbing his face. “You were going to tell me about your life Outside.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  His expression was unreadable. “Tell me about Finn?”

  A lump clogged my throat. “Can I start with something easier?”

  “Okay. Tell me about your family?”

  I sat next to him. “I don’t have one. I was left on the steps of a hospital when I was a day old. I was placed with a foster family when I came out of hospital but I don’t remember them. Helen and Paul adopted me when I was a few years old. Paul left when I was nearly ten.”

  “Why?”

  “I drove him away. That’s what Helen always said when we argued.”

  I leaned my elbow on the arm of the sofa, my fingers spiking my hair up. I missed Paul. In a funny way, I almost missed Helen. Almost.

  “How can a small child have driven away a grown man?” asked Faran, his voice soothing.

  “I was a fairly horrible child. Looking back, I suppose I knew that something was wrong between Helen and Paul and my reaction was to do things to get attention.”

  I fell silent again. Faran shifted down the sofa so that he leaned slightly against me. His way of trying to comfort me?

  “What did you do?” he asked, softly.

  I sighed heavily. “What does any child do to get attention? I broke things, I screamed, I didn’t do what I was told, I hit out… I’m not surprised that Paul left. I was what’s called a troubled child.” I swallowed to rid my mouth of the bitterness, but it lingered on. “And of course, I was no better after he’d gone. Helen would have handed me back if she could.”

  I drew my legs up and turned my head so that my cheek was against my knees. The woollen trousers were soft against my skin.

  “I’m sure she loved you.”

  I wasn’t.

  “What happened after you were ten?” he said.

  “Helen met John and his son Stephen when I was twelve. She married John a year later, and I had yet another brand-new family.”

  “Oh… What had happened to his wife? Did she leave the way Paul did?”

  “No. She died in an accident, along with their daughter.”

  The edges of my lashes were wet, and I closed my eyes to trap the tears.

  “Tell me about them? About John and Stephen?” said Faran.

  I breathed in deeply, rubbing my cheekbone on my kneecap. “Stephen was in a relationship with my best friend. He treated her very badly, and I persuaded her to go to the police – Guardians – about it. He beat me until he almost killed me and was sent to prison.”

  Faran’s breath hissed and his arm slid around my shoulders. I leaned away from him.

  “What happened?” he asked, taking his arm away again.

  I stared out over the room. I wanted Finn so badly, I ached. “I was practically living with Finn by this point. Stephen attacked me there. Finn came back and got me to the hospital. To healers.”

  “Was it Stephen who broke your nose?”

  “My nose, my skull, my ribs, my teeth.”

  “And Finn taught you to fight because of that?”

  I sucked in a deep breath. “Actually, Finn had been teaching me to fight before that. But yes, more so afterwards.”

  “Was Finn a Guardian?”

  “No.” I laughed. “Finn used to train people. Make them fitter. Most people Outside are not like Guardians. They sit at desks all day and get fat.”

  His brow puckered. “Then less food should be served.”

  “Yeah. That’s not how meals work Outside.” Memories of a life with Faran tickled the edges of my brain. “Finn was a bit like you in some ways. He had a fierce temper… He was also the kindest man I’ve ever known.”

  “Did you fight? Did he lose his temper with you?”

  “No. We argued sometimes. But he never hit me.” I turned a beady eye to Faran. “One of us would accept defeat and give the other a hug. If he was mad about something else, he’d go and train. Not like here. He’d lift weights, or box, or hit a punch-bag.”

  Faran’s brow flickered, and I explained what I meant.

  “Oh, we have weights, and pads for boxing here, in the cupboards in the training rooms,” he said. “Did you box?”

  “Mm. I’d be better at kick-boxing than what you’ve been trying to teach me.”

  A lump settled in my chest as I remembered kick-boxing with Finn.

  “How did Aegyir kill him?” His voice was gentle, his face soft.

  I told him how Aegyir had threatened to kill Finn if I didn’t open the portal and invite him in. I told him how Aegyir had reached into Finn’s chest and taken the ball of light out. I told him about Finn dying. Tears poured down my cheeks by the time I finished, and I buried my face in my knees.

  Faran’s palm circled my back. “You obviously still love him dearly.”

  I glanced up. The hollows in his cheeks seemed deeper, and jealousy and pain filled his eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I had another life Outside and I knew nothing of this one. I thought this was all a dream.”

  He rubbed my shoulder. “I want to try to rebuild our life together, but I cannot compete with a ghost. I’m a good man, Aeron.” He stopped and pushed his hair back. “Forgive me for being blunt, but Finn is dead Outside, and I’m alive and here.”

  I sprang up from the sofa. “Oh, fuck off, Faran! I buried him yesterday!”

  He closed his eyes, holding his hands up. “Forgive me… I’m just finding this difficult.”

  “You think I’m not? You try losing the one person you’ve loved!”

  “I did!” he flashed back. “Two years ago. And now you’ve come back.”

  I stared at him, breathing hard. “‘A man cannot step in the same river twice. It’s not the same river, and he’s not the same man.’ You’re not the same man you were two years ago and I’m sure as hell not the same woman.”

  “Would you rather leave?” His voice caught. “What do you have Outside that’s better than The Realm? War? Poverty? Inequality?”

  “Choice!”

  “And that outweighs everything else?”

  I said nothing, glaring at him. He would never understand.

  Slowly, Faran’s shoulders softened. “Forgive me. I’m just so jealous. The thought of you with anyone else… I know you’re not the same woman who left. I know you had a life Outside. But I look at you and I see the woman I fell in love with when I was young. The woman that I’ve always been able to talk to. Yes, we fought and bickered and frequently our tempers resulted in training sessions that left us bruised. But once the temper had blazed, we would always forgive each other. But you don’t remember any of that…”

  I folded my arms, tightly. “You hit me yesterday. That doesn’t com
e with love in my world. Even if we’d been married Outside, if you’d punched me like that, I’d have reported you to the police, ended our marriage and seen you on trial. I’d have had you put in prison, as I did Stephen. You want me to rebuild a relationship with you, but I had a fantastic relationship, with a man who would never have lifted a finger to me. He died trying to protect me.”

  He blinked slowly. “I too would defend you with my life.”

  I snorted. “You may have to. A lot of people here seem to want me dead.” I ground my toe into the floor. “There’s no point talking about this any more. What do people do here in an evening?”

  He rubbed his chin. “Shall I teach you Capture The King? You and I played it a lot. Relax. It’s a board game of strategy.”

  He drew the low table closer to the sofa, retrieved a box from the desk, and started to set up small wooden pieces on a board, explaining the rules to me as he did so. The game seemed like a combination of the Japanese game ‘Go’ and a Viking game I’d seen advertised in a catalogue selling replicas of museum items. There were two different kinds of counter and they could move across the board in different ways. One player also had a King. The objective was deceptively simple: surround the King. Faran picked up the King, put his hands behind his back, then held out two closed fists to me. I tapped his left one. He opened it to show me the King, and we started the game.

  “Do you think your father will still send Cerewen Outside?” I said after a minute or so.

  He didn’t reply. Instead, he captured one of my pieces and added it to the growing pile at the side of the board. I prompted him and his eyes slid up to meet mine.

  “I don’t know. It depends on how the trial goes tomorrow.” He indicated the board. “If I take any more of your soldiers, you won’t be able to protect the King.”

  “I know.”

  I moved a piece forwards and Faran corrected me. “They can only move diagonally.”

  I moved it back, frustrated. The King was already hemmed in on three sides. I slid a counter forward.

  “That would be a really bad move.”

  I put the piece back and chewed the inside of my lip. “What would be a good move?”

  “Knocking your King over and admitting defeat. Every piece is pinned.”

  I scowled and moved one of my pieces forwards. Faran pounced, taking it and surrounding the King. He set the board up again. This time he took the colours of the King.

  “Faran, do you trust Lord Sondan and Cerewen?”

  “Sondan? Yes. He’s my best friend. Cerewen? He’s a good warrior. I don’t trust him though.”

  “You think if he goes Outside, he’ll try to kill me again?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Surely Cerewen shouldn’t be in the group that goes Outside? He’d be risking the whole mission if he killed me. None of you can speak English.”

  Faran eyed me. “Lord Father will not take lessons on strategy from someone who cannot even win at a child’s board game. Your move.”

  Another long silence stretched between us, broken only by the sound of counters clicking on the board.

  “What would you do if you were my father?” Faran said at last. “About you.”

  I looked up from the board. “Since you seem determined not to divorce me or renounce me, I’d find a way to have me killed or hanged,” I said quietly. “To protect your position and the importance of your house.”

  Faran removed my last useful piece from the board. “Exactly. So I am begging you to speak more circumspectly and to follow his orders. I’ll worry about Cerewen if he goes Outside. I meant it when I said I would always protect you.”

  We played two more games of Capture The King, both of which I lost.

  “I really suck at this, don’t I?” I said as he knocked the King over yet again.

  He smiled cheekily. “You’re perhaps missing some of the finer strategic points. But I don’t think your mind is on the game.”

  “Was I ever any good?” I helped him to put the pieces back in the box.

  “Yes. A single game could last all evening.”

  “Oh.”

  So far, the longest game had lasted a few minutes.

  He scratched his neck, weighing his words. “I want you to sleep in the bedroom tonight.”

  “No.”

  He sighed heavily. “Three people tried to kill you today.”

  “There’s nothing out here big enough for you to sleep on.” He held my gaze, and the penny dropped. “Oh! No. I’ll take my chances out here.”

  His jaw hardened, his lips making a thin line. “Fine.”

  “You can have the bedding tonight.”

  “You are not sleeping on the floor and getting cold, while I have the bed and covers!”

  He fetched the bedding, placed it on the sofa and turned to me. A blend of impatience and worry filled his eyes. He picked up the chair by the desk and jammed it under the door to the hallway.

  “Goodnight, my lady.”

  As soon as the bedroom door closed, I sank to the floor, exhausted. I flipped to the back of the book Faran had given me yesterday and touched the drawing of Finn I’d done. I yearned to hear his voice; to see him; to hold him. I curled up in my nest of bedding, loneliness creeping through my body and making itself at home.

  13

  I awoke with a scream as a parcel landed on me. Faran stood next to me, smiling mockingly, already showered and dressed.

  “Good morning, my lady. Your leathers have arrived. Perhaps you might finally start to look as if you are a Guardian. Hurry up. We’re due to have breakfast with Father in ten minutes.”

  In the bedroom, I pulled the string off the parcel and laid the open packet on the bed. On the top of the bundle lay four long-sleeved tops made of fine, soft wool; finer than the t-shirts I’d received when I arrived. There were also several pairs of mid-thigh shorts in the same wool. Two leather jackets and two pairs of leather trousers took up the majority of the parcel. One jacket and trouser set was in a dark charcoal-grey, the other was oxblood. I’d ordered grey for combat-wear and put that set aside. The oxblood jacket was longer, and although the top half seemed as fitted as the combat-wear, the jacket flared out from the waist down, the way Faran’s coloured jackets did. This was dress-wear then. A pair of black, knee-high leather boots, and some knee-high socks in fine black wool nestled in the base of the pack.

  I showered and dressed quickly, aware of the time. To my surprise, the base layers felt more like silk than wool. I pulled the grey jacket on. It couldn’t have fitted more closely if it had been painted on me and I expected it to be hugely restrictive but it moved with me like a second skin. It had a stand-up collar with buttons all the way down the front. At each side was a concealed pocket, large enough for a pot of salve but little more. A belt with a dagger completed the look.

  I turned my attention to the boots and trousers. Both pairs of trousers were straight-legged, and I knew Faran wore his boots under his trousers so I put the boots on first. Everything fitted perfectly. Not a huge surprise, given how many measurements had been taken of me.

  I joined Faran in the outer room, wondering what format the trial would take. He stood as soon as I entered, smiling approvingly at my clothes. “I’m glad to see you finally dressed appropriately, Lady Aeron.”

  I felt hugely self-conscious in my spray-on leather. “Thank you, Lord Faran.”

  He frowned. “Father is alive and waiting for us to join him for breakfast. Until both he and Orian die, it’s plain Faran.”

  I smiled to myself. Plain was not a word I easily associated with him. I bowed again. “Well, plain Faran, lead on.”

  “Button your jacket to the neck.”

  My head shot up at the stress in his voice. “You think there’ll be another attempt on me?”

  He bunched his lips briefly. “I don’t want to take any chances.”

  I fastened my jacket, my fingers stumbling over the new buttons.

  ***

  Despite
having asked to breakfast with us, Lord Eredan sat at a table with Lord Balwen and waved Faran away as we approached.

  We took our seats a couple of tables away and Faran watched his father, his eyes narrowed.

  “Do you think Lord Balwen is trying to sway your father?” I asked, leaning forward so that the Guardians on the adjacent table couldn’t hear. “Isn’t Cerewen his son?”

  “Perhaps. No persuasion is needed though. Lord Balwen has always had support from my father.”

  “Does your father support you?”

  He looked back at me. “He supports me. He doesn’t support you. Not any more. Had the attempt last night been successful, he’d have celebrated. I’d be free from being linked with a traitor, without the scandal of a divorce.”

  I swallowed, remembering how unsurprised Lord Eredan had seemed the night before. Was my father-in-law actively planning to have me killed?

  Movement at the side of us drew my attention. Orian and Lady Morgan. They sat at the table on Faran’s immediate right, Lady Morgan looking pointedly at Faran.

  “Good morning, Faran,” she said, smiling beguilingly.

  He inclined his head, a blush creeping up from his chest. “Lady Morgan. Orian.”

  He slid his hand across the table to hold mine, his eyes on his brother. I tried to pull away, but Faran’s grip was too firm – clarifying all the relationships?

  We waited until their attention was taken by the serving staff bringing food over.

  “What’s the format of the trial?” I said, as softly as I could.

  Faran’s gaze returned to his father. “We state what happened. There’ll be five witnesses. You, me, and three others.”

  I studied Faran. The muscles of his back were taut and his gaze roved restlessly over the room. Absently, his fingers rubbed mine, as if he held a touchstone. I tweaked one of his fingers and he looked at me.

  “Why are you so wound up?” I said.

  He breathed deeply. “The other three witnesses all support Lord Balwen. And by extension, Cerewen.”

  I tried to visualise the notes I had in our room listing the different factions, wondering who they were. “Why are there only three other witnesses? The Courtyard was packed.”