SoJourner

by Voigt, Janalyn

Overwhelmed with relief, she swayed on her feet. Why had she cared so much that her father not name Rand?

  Without a word, her father guided her to a chair. With a grateful smile, she sank into its cushions and bent to rub her feet.

  “Forgive me.” Her father looked guilt-stricken. “I should have invited you to sit before this. What happened to your feet?”

  Heat climbed into Mara’s cheeks. “I walked too long in the snow.”

  “If Quinn and Heddwyn had anything to do with this—” Her father clenched his fists at his side but broke off before finishing his threat.

  “Nay, the fault was all my own. I ventured too far off the path.” She waited for Kai to elaborate, but thankfully he kept silent.

  “We’ll have Praectal Daelic look at it.” Her father turned his head. “Anders! Bring food and drink. Oh, and send a maidservant to tend Syl Marinda. Craelin, come! We must celebrate.”

  She had forgotten the first guardian, waiting in the background with her father’s servant. The first guardian now joined them, while the servant went off to do her father’s bidding. In truth, Mara wanted only the solace of sleep but would not rob her father’s joy by refusing.

  “You’ll want the chance to change.” Her father suggested in a quiet voice.

  Her face warmed. “Thank you, but I have no other garments than those I stand in.” Kai had promised that all her needs would be supplied at Torindan, but mentioning that would be awkward.

  “That’s easily remedied.” He assured her with a quick smile.

  Her father summoned a golden-haired maid named Traelein who showed her to a beautiful chamber adorned with tapestries in luminous colors. Another servant followed with garments of velvet, silk, and wool. Mara washed the grime of travel from her skin and changed into a clean chemise that lay soft against her skin. She gritted her teeth while Traelein dealt with her tangles, but with her hair combed and cascading down her back, she felt better. Traelein helped her into a kirtle of green velvet and laced an elk-skin bodice dyed red. Mara studied her reflection in the mirror glass, startled by the transformation. Ah, but dressing a country maid in finery did not make her a princess.

  

  Arillia let the rough texture of the embroidered hangings at her window run through her fingers while she breathed in perfumes from the night-blooming flowers hovering like pale ghosts outside her window. In the early spring when warmth stirred nature to wakefulness, Elcon had stolen her heart with a kiss in this very garden. Here, too, he had declared his love and asked her to marry him. Between those two events lay a deep void of despair.

  She’d chosen to forgive him for betraying his promise to court her, but sometimes unruly thoughts countered her will. The image of Aewen as a radiant bride on her new husband’s arm could come in an instant to steal her peace of mind. It had been all she could do to muster a greeting when presented to Aewen. The new bride’s startled expression had warned Arillia that she’d not entirely hidden her heartache. The guilty glances and words of apology Elcon had cast her way had only made matters worse.

  Why think of this now?

  She huffed a breath and turned from the window. Aewen lay in the tomb, and someday Elcon might let her remain there.

  Her maid looked in at the door. “The Lof Shraen sends for you.”

  Arillia’s spine stiffened. Sending for her as if nothing of consequence had happened between them marked Elcon as unfeeling. She tilted her chin. “Tell him I am indisposed.”

  “Yes, Lof Raelein.” Lyneth withdrew.

  Arillia perched on a velvet-cushioned bench beside the hearth. Marble unibeasts with horns entwined supported the mantle. A draft made her shiver. She would shut the window on the scents of the garden and bid Lyneth to light a fire against the chill.

  

  Elcon’s servant, Anders, backed away from the door to allow Kai entry to the Lof Shraen’s outer chamber. He’d meant to relay Emmerich’s message yesterday but hadn’t been able to bring himself to spoil such a joyous reunion. He would put it off no longer.

  Elcon paced before the hearth. He wore the look of his father, Timraen, most strongly when problems weighted his mind. Whatever troubled him now, Kai misliked adding to his burdens. “Kai. I hope you are settling in well.”

  “Craelein had my chamber in the gatehouse prepared for me.”

  “You still have a cot here, as well, should duty keep you near.”

  That might happen sooner than Elcon imagined. “What of Weilton? Does he act as your guardian in my place?”

  Elcon waved a careless hand. “I don’t require close watching these days.”

  “According to Emmerich, that is about to change.”

  “Tell me what he said.”

  A knock roused them both, and Anders admitted Craelin, who made his bow and glanced at each of them in turn. “Do I interrupt?”

  Elcon shook his head. “You should hear this, too. Go on, Kai.”

  “Emmerich instructed me to warn you that Freaer has rebuilt the stronghold of Pilaer and now gathers his forces to launch another attack against Torindan.”

  The fire behind Elcon flared in a draft, and he glanced into the flames absently. “After all this time…I had hoped.... Freaer seemed to have given up.”

  “You must not persuade yourself that will ever happen.” Kai countered the idea with caution, not wanting to offend Elcon by overstepping but mindful of his duty to inform his Lof Shraen of impending danger.

  “Well then, Craelin…” Elcon looked to the first guardian. “It seems I must call upon your keen mind for battle.”

  Craelin’s eyes glinted. “We’ll prepare for the worst.”

  “I’ll rely on you.” Elcon frowned. “Meanwhile, perhaps we can forget for a little longer that evil exists.”

  “Of course.” Kai turned as Anders admitted Mara, escorted by her maid.

  She crossed the chamber and curtsied before her father. “You called for me?”

  Wearing garb fit for a lof raena and with velvet ribbons woven through her dark hair, she could have been Aewen in her youth. Kai glanced at Elcon. What might it cost him to look upon her?

  Elcon smiled at Mara. “Don’t look so alarmed, my daughter. I only want to feed you. Come.” He included them all in his glance.

  Servants piled food on the table in his meeting room. Craelin sat in his honored place beside the Lof Shraen and Elcon seated Mara on his other side. Kai took his customary chair beside Craelin.

  Weilton put his head in at the door. “Kai! I’m thankful to see you again.” The second guardian came into the chamber, his appearance much as Kai remembered, although laughter had cut lines more firmly about his mouth and crinkled the corners of his eyes.

  Kai beamed at him. “I can say the same of you.”

  “Stop lurking about the doorway and come in!” Elcon demanded in mock severity.

  Smiling, Weilton obeyed. Eathnor and Dorann followed him into the chamber. The two brothers could not be more different. Eathnor wore the green surcoat of a guardian of Rivenn with a gryphon embroidered in gold standing on its hindlegs, its forelegs curved into claws. By contrast, Dorann garbed himself in the leather jersey of a tracker. Eathnor’s vibrancy shone from his light eyes, whereas Dorann remained silent.

  Kai jumped to his feet and embraced each brother in turn.

  Eathnor cocked his head. “Lose your way?”

  Kai’s smile slipped away. “That I did.”

  “Never mind,” Eathnor said in a bracing tone. “You’re home now.”

  Guaron entered at the door, and Kai greeted him with joy. He belonged here among his liege lord and friends, but he must return to his family in Whellein when Elcon allowed. The thought tugged at him. What changes would he find there?

  Eathnor and Dorann made belated bows, and Elcon bestowed a tolerant smile on them before holding up his hand to speak. The chamber quieted. “Lof Raelein Arillia sends her regrets. She is unwell and cannot attend.” Elcon made the announcement in even tones, but his ears r
eddened.

  A polite murmur ran through the gathering. Kai wondered if the gossip following it would be as reserved.

  “This night I introduce my daughter, Syl Marinda, Raena of Rivenn and Lof Raena of Faeraven, now restored to me.”

  A murmur ran through the crowd, and all eyes turned toward Mara. Mara sent a frightened look to her father, who gave her a reassuring smile. Watching the exchange sparked amusement in Kai and a little of the pride that, had he lived, might have belonged to Timraen for his son. Elcon had changed, becoming more at ease as Lof Shraen.

  They feasted on elk, stuffed crobok, venison, and even a bruin’s head roasted with an apple in its mouth. The fare included soup made from greenings, smoked trout, salad, and spring mushrooms awash in butter. Sweet puddings, cakes, and tarts in vast array concluded the repast. The table groaned under the weight of the offerings until the guests moaned alike and could eat no more. They talked long and merrily, but eventually made their goodnights.

  Kai escorted Mara to her chambers with her maid lighting the way. At her door, Mara restrained him from leaving her with her hand on his arm. “You knew my mother, didn’t you? Tell me what she was like.” She spoke in a rush.

  He ought to have expected the question but it surprised him nonetheless. “In her kindness, Aewen tended the poor and healed the sick. She could act on impulse, not always wisely, and moods took her at times, but she loved her husband, and I am certain she loved you.” The torchlight heightened the shadows beneath Mara’s eyes and revealed the glistening of unshed tears. “Thank you.”

  Kai never quite knew what to do when a maiden wept. He cleared his throat. “You are weary. I’ll leave you to your rest.”

  The shadows beneath her eyes and strain in her face presented mute testimony to her exhaustion. She nodded. “Thank you for your care of me.”

  How like Aewen she looked–Aewen who shouldn’t have had to die. Kai bowed to her. “By this I give my last service to your mother.”

  

  Mara allowed Traelein to remove her fine kirtle and the velvet ribbons in her hair. Being undressed by a maid sat ill, but she hoped to honor her mother’s memory and avoid bringing shame to her father by fitting in at Torindan.

  Tonight her father had entertained her with lively stories from his youth. He’d only frowned once, after announcing that the Lof Raelein would not join them. Truth to tell, the news had relieved Mara’s mind. After the long journey, meeting her father had been strain enough.

  Standing barefoot in her chemise, she wrapped her arms about herself for warmth as Traelein’s brush crackled through her hair. Afterwards, she climbed into a carved and canopied bed so large it dwarfed her. Her maid pulled the bed hangings closed and withdrew with the lanthorn. Thankful for the warmth of her coverings, Mara settled down to sleep.

  Every ache returned anew, and it felt that the pitch and sway of a wingabeast’s flight still tossed her about. She pictured again her father’s shock at mistaking her for his dead wife and his anger after learning how Mam and Da had tricked him. Would he keep his word not to retaliate? Did Mam sleep right now or lie awake, thinking of her stolen daughter, now all but lost to her?

  Mara tossed and turned. Her bed supplied the comfort needed for a good night’s rest, but her small bed at the inn had suited her better. Would she ever go home again? Hot tears stung her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. She brushed them away with an impatient hand. Her own anger had brought about her sorrow, and weeping could not cleanse her guilt for running away from the inn.

  She drifted into restless sleep and woke with Rand’s touch trembling like a promise at the threshold of her mind. What did he want with her? Unable to resist her curiosity, she opened herself to him, but then gasped. Dark emotions lashed her, too many to name, but chief among them burned anger. She thrust away from Rand, breaking the slender thread that bound her to him, and hid herself with Lof Yuel in the quiet place within. When her breathing calmed, she tried to go back to sleep, but worries plagued her. She had trusted Rand with her life, but what did she really know of him?

  

  Kai plucked one of the earlyflowers glowing pale in the moonlight beside the path and breathed in its sweetness. He should be in bed, not wandering the garden by night. His steps took him to the fountain, and he tilted his head to gaze upon Talan, cast in bronze, ever upon his wingabeast. He had remained in a similar state, frozen while time flowed past, never to return.

  His mind returned to Shae with the faithfulness of a starving cur to a scrap of food. A memory of her combing her hair by the river, too shy to gaze upon him, stirred his heartache. Had an enemy flayed his flesh, he could not have felt more pain than the loss of her brought. He drank in a cooling draught of air and waited for his sorrow to ease. Would it never end?

  The flower in his hand caught his eye, each curving petal delicate as a maiden’s love. On impulse, he floated the blossom in the pool below the fountain. The fragile craft floated away on a hidden current and wobbled before vanishing beneath the water. Gone.

  He closed his eyes. Lof Yuel. I release her to you yet again.

  Kai. A sigh breathed across his cheek.

  His eyes flew open. “Shae?”

  Silver leaves draped from twisted branches along the empty pathways. No gentle maiden waited beside the pool. Only the splash of the fountain and the call of a nightbird met his straining ears. And yet…Shae had come to him. He knew it. But she had reached to him more feebly than before. Emmerich had said the worlds tilted out of balance. What did that mean for Shae, trapped between worlds?

  He had to find out.

  12

  IN THE HIGH KING’S CHAMBER

  Irritation did not make a suitable sleeping companion, as Arillia discovered to her cost. The long night afforded her more than enough time to reflect and also ample time for regrets. Who had she become in her bitterness? She should not have blamed Elcon for dreams over which he had no control or for succumbing to melancholy in their wake. Neither should she consider his silence a mark of guilt, although it cut her to the quick.

  If only her inner wounds did not fester and refuse to heal. In truth, she could never quite convince herself that her husband loved her. Elcon could not know, because she’d never told him, how she had suffered when he’d married Aewen. She’d wept night after night, muffling the sound of her grief in a pillow.

  She’d felt herself a pale shadow beside Aewen, who had been beauty itself. Perhaps if she could have birthed a child to replace the one her husband had lost, he might have drawn closer to her rather than keeping so much to himself. In a burst of honesty, she admitted the truth.

  Her jealousy had driven him away.

  She escaped the discomfort of her thoughts near dawn but soon woke. She sat up with a groan. If only she could remain in sleep’s embrace rather than seeking her husband’s, but she must confess her wrongs to him and seek his forgiveness.

  

  “You sent for me?” Mara tried not to sound breathless, but she’d been sleeping late when her father’s summons arrived.

  “Come warm yourself.” With a hand on her back, he guided her to a chair near the fire in his outer chamber. “Did you rest well?”

  “Well enough.” She should tell him about Rand visiting her through the soul touch, but not with Traelein, who had accompanied her to her father’s chambers, stationed near the door beside Anders. Her father might be used to ignoring servants, but such a thing lay beyond her ability.

  “Your feet are recovering, I see. Did Praectal Daelic tend you?”

  “He did.” Mara studied her hands, folded in her lap, to hide any guilt on her face. Neither Kai nor the physician her father had sent to care for her would approve of her walking the small distance to the Lof Shraen’s chambers.

  He tilted her face. “You resemble your mother, it cannot be denied, but also my own.”

  “You speak of High Queen Maeven.” Mara had heard of the legendary ruler of the Kindren from stories told by travelers.
The wandering people who lived in wagons had long fascinated Mara, and she’d crept away whenever she could to listen to their music and the stories they’d told.

  He smiled. “You know of her. She would be glad of that.”

  “I could not fail to learn her legend while living at the inn.”

  He smiled, but with a hint of sadness. “I wish you could have met her.”

  A tap came at the door. Anders admitted a beauty garbed in gray with skin delicate as a petal and golden hair plaited. She turned clear blue eyes on Mara and gasped. With one delicate hand she clutched her throat. Her chest rose and fell as she heaved in air. “Elcon, what insanity is this?”

  “Arillia, allow me to introduce my daughter, Syl Marinda.” Her father claimed Mara with his words even as he eased away from her side.

  This must be the same Arillia who could not attend last night’s feast. Mara bit the inside of her lip, ill-prepared for this meeting.

  Emotions warred on Arillia’s face. “I thought her the mother.”

  Elcon frowned. “This is your step-daughter, Syl Marinda.”

  Not quite certain how to greet a step-mother who was also a high queen, Mara curtsied and cast about for something polite to say. “I hope you have recovered from whatever vapor troubled you last night.”

  Arillia stared at her as if she had spoken in another tongue before returning her gaze to her husband. “Surely you don’t expect me to…”

  “She’s my daughter, Arillia.”

  “And I am your wife.” Her step-mother’s tone could not have been more precise.

  A lump formed in Mara’s throat as she waited for the rejection that would surely come.

  Her father sighed. “What would you have me do?”

  Arillia lifted a shoulder. “Send her whence she came and, if you must, visit her there.”

  Heat crept up Mara’s neck. She longed to go home to the inn, but not in disgrace.

  Her father’s jaw tensed. “Out of the question.”

  “Well, she can’t stay here.” Arillia countered her husband and king in a light voice that belied the wariness in her eyes.

  “You take too much upon yourself.” Her father ground out every word.