SoJourner

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SoJourner Page 21

by Voigt, Janalyn


  “How well I understand. Freaer buffeted my mind without mercy during the first siege of Torindan. Fending him off wore out my strength, but I endured. I suspect he may attack in the same way again. This time he may target you as well..”

  Her eyes widened. “Me?”

  “I’m sorry to frighten you, but I don’t want to leave you unprepared. I have so little time to teach you these things.” He touched her hair. “How I wish we could have had more time.”

  She pulled away. “Don’t talk like that.”

  “We must face the truth. I may not return from battle.” He lowered himself to kneel at the prayer rail.

  “You will not die and abandon your throne to me.”

  His lips curved at her tone. “I will bear that in mind. Now, come and pray.”

  Her mouth parted as if to say more but instead she knelt beside him and bowed her head.

  He let his gaze linger on her silken eyelashes, the curve of her jaw, and the hair tumbling past her shoulders in a glossy waterfall. How Aewen would have loved their daughter.

  If only…

  He closed his eyes, shutting out the familiar sorrow.. Regrets could not change the past. Even if they could, he would not want them to. All the paths he’d walked, whether joyful or bitter, had brought him to his knees before Lof Yuel, holding his daughter’s hand in prayer.

  

  Mara bowed her head and closed her eyes, the very model of submission, although inwardly she chafed. Why must her father linger in prayer when he needed to act? He’d suffered enough shame. She could save him from more if only he would let her. She was not some delicate flower to coddle. Besides, who could say if remaining at Torindan would prove more wise than leaving it?

  Her father’s explantaion of the soul touch had set her mind at rest. She frowned. If the shil shael belonged only to the children of Rivenn, Rand must be related to her by blood. Her father would know how, but she wasn’t proud of running away with Rand and would rather leave that particular episode in the past. She could manage such a thing more readily if he wouldn’t haunt her thoughts.

  Her father took her hand in a strong grip. Tears caught at the back of her throat. That he could die in battle was too much to be borne. Gripped by the possibility, she set her mind to prayer at last.

  The rear door banged open, and the guard Kai had introduced as Craelin strode in. He bowed before her father and straightened with a furrowed brow.

  “Is something amiss?” Her father rose and helped her to her feet.

  “Lof Shraen, something has happened.” Craelin cast a glance to her before continuing in a subdued voice. “I beg an audience.”

  “You may speak in my daughter’s presence. As only this morning I have been reminded, she is heir of Faeraven.”

  Craelin inclined his head. “I must inform you that Eathnor has returned.”

  “I welcome the news. How did he escape?”

  “In the company of Randolph of Pilaer.”

  “Rand is here?” Mara blurted. Two gazes swung to her, one blue, the other green, and her cheeks warmed. How ridiculous. She’d already given herself away.

  Her father frowned. “Do you know him, Syl Marinda?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Only as a tracker.”

  The gleam in her father’s eyes told her he did not believe the indifference she pretended. “Would you count him trustworthy?”

  What could she say? That he had helped her run away, and then abandoned her in the wilderness? That he’d returned to the inn but had left without speaking to her? What did she really know of Rand? Perhaps he was a thief, for he seemed to have stolen her heart. “I’m not certain.”

  “Eathnor vouches for him,” Craelin said. “But he wears the garb of one of Freaer’s wretched guardians, so I had him chained.”

  “This grows ever more curious.” Her father came to stand before her. “My daughter, how do you know this tracker from Pilaer?”

  “I had no idea he came from Pilaer.” She might have asked Rand where he hailed from but had taken him on faith for no reason she could now name.

  “With all respect, Lof Shraen,” Craelin interrupted. “Eathnor waits in your meeting chamber.”

  “Summon Kai.”

  Craelin bowed and withdrew.

  Her father turned to her. “We’ll find out what message Eathnor brings before deciding the fate of the prisoner from Pilaer.”

  What had she done? She would welcome any other duty but the one before her. Mara walked beside her father to his chambers, regretting with every step having urged him to include her in his affairs.

  They entered the meeting chamber, and Eathnor rose to make his bow. Crumbs of bread and the dregs of what might have been ale in a drinking horn were all that remained of the food he’d consumed. Dirt sullied the gryphon on the front of his surcoat, and blood stained the shredded fabric at one bandaged shoulder, but his hands and face were clean.

  Her father embraced the tracker, and then stood back. “I’m grateful to find you alive.”

  “Thank you.” A smile flitted across Eathnor’s face. “I share the same opinion.”

  “Craelin and Kai should arrive soon. They will be eager to welcome you.” He guided Mara to the high-backed chair beside his at the head of the table, and Eathnor sat down again.

  Her father leaned forward. “Tell me, how did you escape?”

  “I didn’t. The Kindren now chained in the gatehouse freed me.”

  “Ah, yes. Craelin mentioned him. Are you certain this Kindren did not deceive you into believing in his friendship?”

  The question struck Mara like an arrow to the chest. Rand had seemed a friend she could trust, but his actions had told a different story.

  “I would stake my life on his truthfulness.” Eathnor’s gaze never faltered but met her father’s squarely.

  Mara couldn’t speak for Rand as forthrightly. He had lied when he’d promised to take her to Torindan, then abandoned her in the wilderness.

  Her father leaned forward in his chair. “Why did you bring him here?”

  “He wants to ally himself with you. He is willing to become a traitor to Pilaer.”

  “A traitor?” Her father narrowed his eyes to green slits. “Why is it you trust him?”

  “I have two reasons. The first is that he saved my life at great risk to his own.”

  “That speaks in his favor. And the second?”

  Eathnor glanced sideways at Mara. “Forgive me for speaking of personal matters, but his regard for your daughter recommends him.”

  

  “Awake with you!” A rough hand dredged Rand from the depths of slumber.

  He bolted upright and might have risen but for the irons cutting his hands and feet.

  Where am I?

  “The Lof Shraen sends for you.” The guard bending over him wore the green and gold of Rivenn. Memory slammed into him. They’d ridden through the night to reach Torindan. No wonder he’d slept soundly despite his bonds.

  Metal grated on metal, and the shackles weighting his legs fell away. The guard stood back with a grunt. “Come, you.”

  A second guard waited outside the strongwood door, and together they each took one of his arms.

  “I can walk unaided.”

  Laughter followed his protest. “Ah, but ours is the privilege of escorting you.”

  They hurried him into the keep and accompanied him into a circular stairway that wound upward in one of the corner towers. They emerged and proceeded down a long passageway into a side corridor and halted before a carved door. One of the guards knocked, and the door swung inward. Rand gained an impression of polished wood, blue velvet, and gilded furniture. The guards dragged him through a second door into a chamber with a strongwood table down which a handful of Kindren sat, among them Eathnor. Beyond an initial glance at them, he saw no one but Mara.

  Seated beside her father, she looked rested and pampered, a beautiful lof raena. The color in her cheeks and parted lips gave away her stro
ng emotion. He could guess what she felt at the sight of him. Well, he deserved it.

  The guardian, Craelin pushed back his chair and strode to him. “What, no bow for the Lof Shraen? And stop gaping at the Lof Raena like one devoid of wit!”

  Rand pulled his gaze from Mara and fastened it on her father. Lof Shraen Elcon pinned him with a stare from eyes the same green as his daughter’s. Rand wavered on the edge of capitulating. He could never go home again, but bowing to Elcon made his alienation from his father complete.

  “Well?” Craelin glared at him while the silence pulsed with tension.

  It had to be done. He went to one knee. “I pledge my oath of fealty to Elcon, Shraen of Rivenn, the only Lof Shraen of Faeraven. May Lof Yuel ever walk beside you.”

  The tears shining on Mara’s cheek made no sense. Why would she weep for him? He had expected her to berate him for his treatment of her and beg her father to cast him into the dungeon where she need endure the sight of him no longer. He might have weathered that, but he couldn’t withstand her pity.

  “Rise!” Elcon gripped the arms of his chair and leaned forward, his face red. “You make yourself a traitor to Pilaer and expect me to trust your word of honor!”

  Rand obeyed. “Lof Shraen, my life and my service are mine to give. They now belong to you.”

  Craelin, who had gone back to his chair, narrowed his eyes. “Does fear of the dungeon prompt your surrender?”

  “I don’t dread imprisonment of the body, but one eager to enslave every heart, mind, and soul in Elderland. His forces draw near. But even that hasn’t swayed me.”

  “Enough of this!” Elcon roared. “Speak plainly or not at all.”

  “Lof Shraen, I seek only to stand before Lof Yuel with a right mind and a pure heart. I will tell you what I know of my father’s scheme against Torindan.”

  “Why should I believe you?” Elcon scoffed.

  “Shall I remove this pretender to the dungeon?” Craelin asked.

  Elcon looked from Rand to his daughter. “That would be best.”

  “Wait!” Eathnor’s voice rang out.

  “Father, please!” Mara cried at the same time. All eyes turned to her. She looked back at Rand, and he read an emotion in her face he’d never hoped to see. Rot in Torindan’s dungeon though he might, he would comfort himself with this last image of her.

  “Forgive my outburst, Lof Shraen, but this Kindren has come to you at great risk to himself.” Eathnor spoke in quieter tones. “I am convinced he will tell you the truth.

  “All right, since you speak for him. I will listen.” Elcon eased backwards in his chair.

  Rand released his breath and, fortified by Eathnor’s encouraging nod, broke the last tie of loyalty to his father. “Last night the guardians of Pilaer camped in the canyonlands of Dorienn Ravein but a few day’s march from Torindan while Garreth of Tallyrand leads northern ravens loyal to Pilaer across the plains of Rivenn. Freaer sends an assassin to breach Torindan’s walls by use of a forgotten sallyport. He intends to take your life and that of the Lof Raena.”

  Elcon folded his hands on the table. “How do you come to know these things?”

  “I heard them in Freaer’s own chambers. He may try to change his plans after learning With you and your heir dead, defeating Torindan would only require him to draw out the guardians of Rivenn and cut them off with a flank attack from southern ravens. Lenhardt of Morgorad leads them.”

  Elcon stared at him without speaking, his lips pressed together..

  “Lof Shraen—“ Craelin stood.

  Elcon held up a hand for quiet. “Tell me by what method you gained access to Freaer’s chambers. Why did he make you privy to this information?”

  “Because…” Now he would have to tell them the thing he wished to forget and had hoped not to speak. He couldn’t look at Mara while he uttered the truth that shamed him.. “I am his ill-gotten son.”

  29

  GATHERING STORM

  Mara stared at Rand, tragic as one condemned to hang. She should despise him. Why did she ache to comfort him?

  Exclamations rang out around the table. Her father stood. “No matter how richly Freaer deserves betrayal, it’s unnatural for a son to turn against his own father.”

  The guards watching from behind Rand moved forward to flank him.

  Eathnor jumped to his feet. “Lof Shraen, if I may speak—“

  “Will you yet champion him?” Craelin’s voice throbbed with disbelief. “Sit down, tracker.”

  Eathnor opened his mouth with an expression on his face that indicated he might counter this command.

  “Don’t land yourself in trouble on my account,” Rand warned.

  A progression of emotions swept across the tracker’s face, but he subsided into his chair. Color drained from his face, hinting at what the effort had cost him.

  “What harm will it do to let Eathnor have his say?” Kai intervened..

  “Very well.” Elcon took his seat. “Go on.”

  “Lof Shraen, I knew Rand’s identity when first I spoke for him,” Eathnor said. “Having traveled with and fought beside him, I can say that he is nothing like his father. He wants to help Torindan for the Lof Raena’s sake but also because he hates evil. That he has the substance to reject his father’s plans should be a mark in his favor.”

  Mara pushed aside her desire to believe Eathnor’s testimony, but Rand had shown he cared nothing for her. She should tell her father all she knew of him, but somehow couldn’t bring herself to speak.

  Her father frowned. “I’m not sure I can credit your words, knowing the terror wrought by Freaer’s other son.”

  A murmur of approval arose from those present.

  Eathnor remained silent until it quieted. “This is not Draegmor.”

  Her father eyed the prisoner. “What can you tell me about yourself, son of Freaer?”

  Rand squared his shoulders. “I once wanted my father’s favor, but no more. He refused to acknowledge me and allowed Draeg to make my life a living nightmare.”

  Craelin peered at him. “Is that why you turn against him? To seek revenge?”

  “If I wanted revenge, I could have taken it before this. No. My father’s wretchedness brings me sorrow more than wrath. There’s a sickness of the soul at Pilaer. I won’t say it didn’t affect me, but that’s why I can’t abide it. If my father ever dwelt in the light, he remains in darkness now.”

  Mara didn’t want to think about what Rand had suffered. Letting herself soften towards him would hurt too much.

  Her father lifted a brow. “If your aim is not revenge, what gain does betraying Freaer bring you?”

  “I want no gain, only to avoid learning what will become of Elderland under his rule.”

  “I can’t fault that desire.” Craelin spoke grudgingly.

  Mara fought hard to dislike Rand, the only protection against her own treacherous heart. He sent her a look of longing that tore down her every defense. Almost, she could let herself suspect he had abandoned her in the wilderness for some reason other than meanness of spirit.

  “What do you think, Syl Marinda?” Her father’s question intruded into her thoughts.

  She started. “I—believe him.” As she spoke the words, she knew their truth.

  Rand flinched. “Will you defend me, too, Lof Raena?”

  Her father’s gaze traveled over her face “Do you advise me to free the prisoner?”

  She pushed away the temptation to reject Rand as he had rejected her, extracting her own revenge. “I do.”

  Craelin stirred, but Kai laid a hand on his arm. “Why not let him prove himself?”

  “Unchain him.” Her father nodded to Eathnor. “I release the prisoner into your custody. Do you accept this responsibility?”

  A broad grin spread across the tracker’s face. “Willingly.”

  “Randolph of Pilaer,” her father addressed the prisoner. “You have won your freedom, but on one condition. Go anywhere near my daughter, and you will find yo
urself in chains. Understood?”

  Rand bowed his head. “Yes.”

  How could her father have demanded such a thing, and how could Rand have agreed to it? It was all Mara could do to hold her tongue, but a lof raena shouldn’t berate her father before his counsel. She wasn’t much of a princess, but she knew that much. Mara bit her lip. Had Rand professed love for her only to gain his freedom?

  “We have attended to duty.” Her father turned to Eathnor. “Now I must give you the sad news that Dorann is under Praectal Daelic’s care.”

  Eathnor sat straighter. “What’s happened?”

  “A shaycat mauled him”

  “I beg your leave to go to my brother, Lof Shraen.”

  Elcon inclined his head. “You’ll find him in one of the gatehouse chambers. While you are there, ask the praectal to take a look at that arm.”

  Eathnor shoved back his chair and strode to the door. He looked back to Rand. “You’d better come with me.”

  Mara ignored the glance Rand cast her way before following Eathnor through the doorway. Why should he look at her with pleading eyes when he had rejected her all over again?

  Her father returned to the high-backed chair at the head of the table. “Craelin, do you remember the sallyport in Torindan’s walls? Shae mentioned it, as I recall.”

  “Yes, Lof Shraen. We searched but never found it.”

  “We must try again to find this breach.”

  “We should assign guardians to the Lof Raena,” Craelin suggested.

  Her father sighed. “That is best.”

  “And to watch over you.”

  “I’ll not have my every step dogged when Kai can protect me.”

  “Kai may soon require assistance in that task.” Craelin pushed to his feet. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll attend to the duties you’ve set for me.” He made his bow and at her father’s nod, quit the chamber.

  Mara shivered in the draft that entered through the doorway.

  “Whatever it takes, I will keep you safe.” Her father gave her a reassuring smile, but his brow remained furrowed.

  She had no doubt he would try to keep his promise, but he might lack the ability. “Father, have you decided whether to send me to Westerland?”

 

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