by D. E. Morris
Once the pair were gone, Jaryn looked down at Lilia, his grip on her arm still firm. Whatever anger he felt at the violent disturbance slowly ebbed when he saw the silent tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. “Leave us,” he told the second guard quietly. As the older man left, Jaryn released his hold on Lilia but kept a close watch on her. He tolerated the quiet for half a moment before turning a demanding glare on Connor. “Speak. Now.”
“We've been traveling for three days straight, doing our best to let as few people see us as possible which is no easy task when there are two island countries between here and Cieria.” Connor settled Lilia onto one of the abandoned stools, then poured her some of Ashlynn's tea without even asking for permission. “Four nights ago, the Keepers we made contact with near the Cierian capital were betrayed, most of them slaughtered in their own homes. Lilia escaped Rhiamon's village in enough time to warn us, though we saw one of our friends murdered and saw the body of our other friend in the street when we were running away later. A woman by the name of Eira pretended to be one of us, has the tattoo and everything, and she turned against us. Badru was seriously injured and we lost track of him, and Mairead...” Lilia began to weep, making Connor shake his head and purse his lips. “She and Lilia had an argument that evening. Merrik was in Rhiamon's village and Mairead wanted to stay, to continue to keep an eye on things despite knowing Rhiamon might be on to her. We don't know if she's dead or alive at this point.”
Lilia put the tea cup on the empty stool beside her and covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking as she cried. “I abandoned her. They knew who we were. Eira knew Connor and I were Keepers and that Mairead and Badru were Gaels. She must have told Rhiamon everything. Surely they would not let Mairead live, now. What have I done?”
There was nothing any of them could say. Ashlynn and Jaryn locked eyes with one another as both of them took in the implications of it all. There were so many questions that needed to be asked, but with Lilia in the state she was, the answers would be colored by emotion and hard to understand. Ashlynn's heart raced as she released the dogs. She felt she might break at the thought of losing either Badru of Mairead, but she forced herself to focus on the facts and not the unknowns, trying to keep calm as she absently ran a hand over Lochlainn's back. “Did you actually see Merrik?” she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.
“Yes,” Lilia answered thickly. “He is in a romantic relationship with Rhiamon. He tried to warn her that Badru was in the village at the base of the mountain but she already knew.” The younger woman hiccuped. “Ashlynn, Badru was shot in the face with an arrow. He shifted, but what if it wasn't enough? Where is he? Why is he not here before us? What if they killed him after all?”
“Badru can't be dead,” Lochlainn said softly, his brows drawn together in thought.
Lilia gasped as though realizing for the first time that he was in the room, but Ashlynn waved her concern away. She looked down at her son with question. “What makes you say that?”
“If anything had happened to him, Rowan would know.”
With a small, hopeful smile, Ashlynn nodded to Lilia. “He's right. She caught some sort of bug a few days ago that has left her a bit more lethargic than usual, but nothing that would indicate any serious harm had befallen her opposite. Badru must be alive. If he hasn't come here, maybe he is with Cavalon or he stayed in Cieria somewhere to keep an eye on Mairead.”
Lilia shook her head, unconvinced. “These people hate Gaels, Ashlynn. If they know she is one, they will not hesitate in killing her.”
Crossing his arms, Jaryn took a deep, thoughtful breath and looked to his wife. “What about seeing if Nuala will send one or two of her Volar down to assess the situation? Pick people whose animals will blend in - no offense, Lilia - and draw absolutely no attention to themselves. They don't have to interfere or anything, just get us a picture of what's going on down there.”
“I will go ask her myself,” Lilia volunteered, getting to her feet.
Connor shook his head, his brow wrinkling. “We've been traveling for three days. You're exhausted. You have to rest.”
“Then I will stay there and rest once I've spoken to my cousin.” She looked between Jaryn and Ashlynn, imploring. “Please, let me do this.”
“Go,” Jaryn told her. “You know better than anyone what her people will be flying into. If Badru is there, get a message to us somehow letting us know, please.”
“I will.”
“And Lilia.” She had already turned for the open window but looked over her shoulder at Jaryn. “Stay there. Rest. That is an order from your king. Do I make myself clear?” She nodded. “And no more beating up poor defenseless instruments.” A hint of a smile ghosted over her lips before she shifted and flew away. “What was all of that about, anyway?” Jaryn asked Connor, poking at the remnants of the broken psaltery with the toe of his boot.
“Vala's from Cieria,” the younger man shrugged. “Strike one against her. Lilia'd never seen a psaltery up close until she was inside the village.”
They were quiet for a moment before Jaryn clamped a hand down on his shoulder to give it a firm squeeze. “I'm sorry about your friends, lad.”
Connor nodded but didn't lift his gaze. “Me, too. They were good people, all of them, but Gerwyn and Kyo especially. Gerwyn had a family...his wife just had a baby a few months ago. And Eira...” He clenched his jaw. “We spent so many hours in conversation with her, going over things in books about dragons, Gaels, Elementals...the maps...” He finally looked up, hurt on his face as he met Jaryn's eyes. “I trusted her. We all did, and now she knows things.” A realization hit him and horror paled his skin. “That can only mean Rhiamon knows things, which means Merrik knows it all as well.”
“It isn't your fault, Connor,” Ashlynn assured. She glanced at her husband. “We are learning every day that we have to take greater care in those whom we choose to trust. What has happened, happened. There is nothing to be done for it now but to deal with the consequences, but you are not to blame for any of it, do you understand?”
He nodded, though there was still guilt in his eyes. “I should find Killian and let him know of what has happened. I think I should also find Niam.”
“He isn't here,” Jaryn told him. “Do speak to Killian, though. He needs to know about the other Keepers and he has something you need to start wearing from now on. He'll explain.” With a nod, Connor stepped over the broken psaltery and took his leave. As soon as the door closed behind him, Ashlynn threw her covers back and swung her legs around, dropping her feet down into her slippers. “What are you doing?” Jaryn asked with elevated brows.
“What does it look like I'm doing? Lochlainn, gather those papers for me, will you? I don't want them scattering all over the place.”
The boy climbed dutifully up onto the bed to carry out his mother's orders while Jaryn stalked closer to her bedside. “It looks like you think you're going somewhere, which we both know you're not. Sit back down right now.”
Despite the way he forcefully eased her back down onto the bed, she smiled up at him and touched his cheek. “It is so endearing how, after all these years, you still think you can just give me an order and I will follow it blindly. Now, out of my way before I sick the dogs on you.” The dumb one thumped his tail against the floor with a great hollow sound as though in anticipation. “I've decided to call this one 'Dafty.'”
“Ashlynn, no...and they're not even your bloody dogs!”
“Jaryn, I am fine, really.”
“There is no possible way that you are fine.”
A knock came to the door and both of them gave permission for entrance at once. One of Jaryn's squires came in to tell them that a messenger had arrived from Braemar with urgent news. The couple stared at one another until Ashlynn raised her brows in challenge. “Well? Are you going to stand here and babysit me or are you going to go speak with the messenger? Either way, I'm getting up and I would much rather do it with your help than without.�
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A growl rumbled through Jaryn's throat. Turning his frustration on his squire, he snarled, “Tell the messenger that I'll be there in a minute.” The boy bowed and ducked out of the room as quickly as his feet would allow. “Lochlainn, go fetch your mother's ladies.” The two dogs not attached to Ashlynn followed him as he disappeared from the room to carry out his father's orders. Glaring at his wife, Jaryn took one of her hands in his own and wrapped his arm around her waist. “All right, lean on me.”
Barely leaning on him at all, Ashlynn raised herself up on her feet, much to Jaryn's surprise. He pulled his arm free in a slow motion, careful in case she wavered, but shocked to see her so steady. “I told you,” she said, her voice quiet, “I feel fine.”
“You took months to recover last time.” His eyes ran the length of her body as though searching for something, puzzled. “You could hardly sit up for more than a few hours at a time for weeks and here you are, like nothing ever happened, less than two weeks after you...”
“After I died.” She nodded. “I can't explain it, either. I know I haven't wanted to talk about what happened that night, but maybe it was something Tasarin gave me after-”
The door opened and her ladies came in, babbling to themselves as they got to work figuring out what to dress Ashlynn in as though she were a life-sized doll.
“I love you, you remarkable, maddening woman.”
She grinned at him as their hands slowly separated, her ladies sweeping her up in their colorful chaos. “I love you, too.”
Jaryn was back before her ladies had finished. Ashlynn sat before her vanity and watched him enter in her mirror. She saw his grim expression and felt the warmth drain from her skin. Lifting a hand, she waved away the servant braiding her hair. “That will be all.” The servant and all of her ladies curtsied without a word and shuffled out of the room, leaving the couple alone. Ashlynn spun on her stool and looked up at her husband in fearful anticipation. “Is it Badru?”
“No. No, nothing of Badru.” Jaryn ran a hand over his beard and sat heavily at the end of the bed. “Since the transfer there has been, and this is Nuala's wording, not mine, an outbreak in Braemar of Gaels who have attempted their own purge. She did not say how many have attempted it, but she did say that she knows of nine that have perished in their attempt to rid themselves of their Gaelic blood.”
Ashlynn gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.
“She went on to say that there have been riots in the human cities. They started close to the capital and have begun to spread to the farther reaching districts, protests not unlike ours that have people both demanding for protection for and from dragons and Gaels. So far, no hunting parties have been detected...” He heaved a weary sigh. “...but that will only be a matter of time.”
“How?” Ashlynn asked, lowering her hands to her chin. “We took the utmost care to keep everything secret. We checked and double checked who we spoke to, who had knowledge of what was happening. Braemar should have been untouched by this.”
Jaryn shook his head, defeated. “It could have easily been someone who brought information from another country and it spread from there.”
“Not if it started near the capital and right after my own purge. That's too much of a coincidence.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, she closed her eyes. “I can't believe any of this is happening. We now have confirmed cases in all six nations, and not just small, isolated incidents.”
“I know.”
Opening her eyes, she looked at her husband and held his gaze for a long, suffering moment. “What do we do?” she asked finally, her voice barely audible.
He leaned forward at a loss and rested his elbows on his knees. “I don't know. This time, I really don't know.”
“She would have said if Badru was there,” Ashlynn said confidently, rising. She fixed the drape of her skirts, checking herself in her mirror. “That means he's not, which means Cavalon is not only dealing with this epidemic but will soon learn that his lifelong friend is missing and possibly in danger. That will not go over well.”
Jaryn watched her tucking unfinished strands of hair up under her crown and pinning them in place. “What do you think he'll do?”
“I don't know. Five years ago, before he had a wife and a son, a country he was helping keep safe, he would have been down there searching for Badru in a heartbeat. Now, your guess is as good as mine.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“It isn't what I am going to do, but what we are going to do.” She turned her head this way and that, making sure she looked presentable before facing Jaryn. Holding a hand out to him, she dropped her shoulders and lifted her chin. “We are going to walk down these halls like we know exactly what we are doing. We are not lords and ladies, not lesser kings or queens who can run to the capital for help. We are it. We are the high king and queen, and we better well act like it if we want people to believe in us.” With a little less confidence, she added, “Maybe it will help us believe in ourselves a little bit more.” He took her hand and stood, stepping close to her. She let go of him and smoothed out his doublet before leaving her open palms pressed against his chest. “I'm scared,” she whispered.
“So am I,” he admitted, rubbing her shoulders. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, holding her close to him as seconds ticked by. For a moment, all was still and peaceful, as though there was nothing to worry about and no trouble waited for them outside their door. It felt like everything had fallen apart so quickly, and yet it had been building up to this for years. They had known it was coming. Merrik had promised a war, but he never told them how he would attack them.
“Are you sure you're ready for this, darling?” He glanced back at the bed. “Maybe a nap would be a better idea.”
Jaryn's suggestion managed to elicit a soft chuckle from Ashlynn and she shook her head. “I have been napping for the past week and a half. Time to start living again. Time to show that we are ready to start fighting back.”
Hand in hand, the royal couple exited their chambers. For the first time in far too long, their presence alone was enough to arouse a sense of purpose among those they passed and a confidence in any that stood in defeat, waiting for hope to cling to. Though they had been together in person, Ashlynn and Jaryn had not been of one heart since the killings had begun, and their kingdom felt it. They felt it now, too, as they royal couple strode down the corridor together as though they were prepared to take on the world and certain that nothing could stop them. It was this conviction that the courtiers would take and spread throughout Siness. Just as fear and hatred had leeched its way into every village and town, so, too, would the renewed faith in the crown.
A smile came easier to her lips as men and women moved to the sides of the halls, making room for Ashlynn and Jaryn to pass. They bowed their heads and bent their knee.
Even Tasarin, when he saw the pair, dipped his head to show his respect. There was admiration on his face as he watched them and subtly observed the way their subjects responded to the show of unity. Given his enhanced senses, it was easy for him to eavesdrop without looking too much like he was listening in. It pleased him to hear the conversations that broke out in the wake of Jaryn and Ashlynn's travels. No one knew what had befallen their queen, of course, only that she had taken ill more than a week ago and was restricted to her bedchambers. It was unexpected to suddenly see her up and about again, but heartening to see her looking so at ease with the king. The rumors of pregnancy that had begun to circulate would surely be put to rest now, and everyone would stop speculating over what else could have made her so unwell. All were simply pleased to see her.
Tasarin joined in the modest parade that had formed behind them, his steps just a bit faster than those around him. He was careful not to bump shoulders as he wove his way through admiring courtiers. When he approached the guards that separated him from his friends, he cleared his throat with quiet authority, making one of the men glance over his shoulder at him. “Your Majesties,”
the gray-haired man said.
Both Jayn and Ashlynn turned inward, neither stopping as they glanced over their shoulder. Tasarin lifted his hand to adjust the neckline of his robe, a subtle motion to show the thin silver ring on his finger that was well concealed among the others we wore. “Let him pass,” said Jaryn. The two men moved aside enough for the elf to slip between them, and Tasarin fell into step beside Ashlynn.
“Is this how it is to be from now on?” He glanced at the guards. “They follow so closely.”
“Just for now,” Jaryn told him. “When we can be certain of our safety again...”
“What are you still doing here?” Ashlynn asked, changing the subject. “I told you to go home days ago.”
“I wanted to stay until I was certain that you were well.” Tasarin gave a delicate frown. “You should not be walking about just yet.”
“Good luck convincing her of that,” Jaryn muttered with a smirk.
Ignoring her husband, Ashlynn gave her friend a smile of confidence. “I feel wonderful, Tasarin. Honestly, the more I move, the clearer my head is. Staying in bed day after day is doing nothing for my recovery but extending the time it takes before I am myself again.”
Though he was clearly displeased, he gave a slow nod. “You know your body better than anyone else.”
“Where is Suule?” asked Jaryn.
“He is still out running, keeping an eye on things around the capital as you asked, looking for the rebel elf.”
Ashlynn lifted a brow as she raised her face to Jaryn. “You put Suule to work?”
“He wanted an assignment,” Tasarin told her, sparing Jaryn from having to answer. “This is the longest he has been away from his family and he has been going a bit stir crazy. Siness may have been his home at one time, but Caedia is where his heart now belongs and it is where he wishes to be.”