The Complete Enslaved Chronicles

by R. K. Thorne

  “Completely,” he replied quickly, without hesitation.

  Dev was nodding in agreement. “Hmm. Renala and her lady in waiting were also there.”

  “The dvora?” Aven asked.

  “Yes.”

  “But she arrived here before we did,” Miara pointed out. “If the Dark Master sent her from Kavanar, she couldn’t have gotten here more quickly than we did.”

  “Unless she was meant for my brothers?” He tapped his chin with his finger, thinking. “Or as a spy. What if Daes had already sent Renala before we’d even escaped?” Why did Aven call the Dark Master by his real name and not his title? What had he seen from the Dark Master? Had they spoken? There had been time to talk on the journey to Estun, and she’d seen the burn marks, many of which Aven had agreed to let her heal. But they hadn’t talked in great detail. It wasn’t exactly something she thought either of them wanted to revisit.

  “One way to find out. Confront her about it!” Devol’s eyes lit up with too much glee at the idea, and Aven snorted. But then he nodded. “I’ll go and get her myself. If you two can stand to be alone without me while I’m gone.” He jumped from his seat and was out the door with a snicker.

  Miara raised her eyebrows. Then she glanced down. Aven’s hand still covered hers.

  “Is it that obvious, you think?” she said softly.

  Aven smiled crookedly and gazed down into the fire, not meeting her eyes. “I’m not sure. Maybe. We’ll tell my father, definitely not.”

  She snorted.

  “I mentioned it to Toyl. She was not terribly surprised.”

  She shook her head. “You going to tell the king about that?”

  He looked at her with twinkling eyes. “Hey, I’m keeping secrets as best I can.”

  “You’re not so good at it.”

  “Never have been. Isn’t that what got me into this mess?”

  As if in mocking agreement, the air around them picked up, little currents of air swirling the room. The guards shifted uneasily. Miara grinned. And this time, it did not calm after a few moments but continued listlessly, stirring the air and teasing the flames and embers in the hearth.

  I thought the Dark Master got us into this mess, she whispered.

  But you got us out of it.

  You give me too much credit.

  No. I don’t.

  “Did Toyl object?” she asked eventually as her mirth settled.

  “She was noncommittal. Said I would find out her vote at the Assembly. A lot of the Assembly members like to maintain an air of impartiality. Of distance. Probably good for them. She said nothing to make me think she didn’t support us, though. Me, I mean.”

  Her smile broadened at that turn of phrase. How much were these guards picking up from the conversation? How much were they paying attention? At this point, he apparently didn’t care.

  The door creaked as it opened, revealing first Devol and then Renala. Aven took back his hand, and his face hardened. They rose in greeting.

  “My lord, Prince Aven. Lady Miara. You wished to speak with me?” Her elegantly-painted eyes were wide, worried, far from cunning. No one had ever had kohl in Mage Hall. So many facets of the world open to Miara now, she didn’t know what to make of them.

  “I’m not a lady,” Miara said quickly but returned the dvora’s curtsy with a bow. Was she supposed to be curtsying? Had she offended everyone by bowing all this time? Certainly Aven would have told her. Wouldn’t he have?

  “Thank you for coming, Renala,” Aven said. “We have some serious things to discuss. Would you sit down with us, please?” She nodded and sat in the seat as close as possible to Aven, and Miara tried not to clench her jaw at that fact.

  “We know you were behind the assassination,” Devol said abruptly.

  Gods, Aven. Can you accuse her so directly? Should we have talked to your parents about this?

  It’s a ploy. Wait and see. I do have authority, though, yes. We have to work fast, before word can spread.

  “What?” Renala blurted, horrified. “What assassination?”

  “Don’t pretend,” Devol said calmly. “We know all about it. That’s why you came here to Estun in the first place, isn’t it?”

  “What are you—no—” Miara had never seen the dvora’s tan skin look so pale. She wore a low-cut violet silk gown that even Miara had to admit looked lovely and soft and maybe even comfortable, but it heaved dramatically as she started to take faster, panicked breaths. Was that the panic of being found out, or being wrongly accused? Or was it knowing how to heave your chest to distract men at appropriate times?

  Renala stood, conscious of being about to lose her composure, and took a few steps away to face the fire. “Please, I had nothing to do with anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m sure I can find some way to prove it. I was at the demonstration this morning—then I went back to my rooms—”

  “It was shortly after the demonstration and the cave-in thereafter that the attack occurred.”

  She whirled. “I told you I don’t know how to—”

  “What were you doing at the Proving Grounds yesterday morning then?” Devol demanded.

  “I—simply wanted to watch.”

  The master of arms glared fiercely at her.

  “What? I’m sorry—what does that have to do with anything?”

  “You were looking for clues to best impersonate someone, weren’t you?”

  Renala frowned in what seemed to be genuine confusion. “Impersonate someone? Who?”

  “Then why?”

  “I just… I wanted to ask for lessons as well.” She scowled, casting a clearly jealous glare at Miara. “I was too afraid.”

  Oh. That made sense, with her behavior and her hesitation to ask if she could watch. By now, Miara was thoroughly convinced that she was uninvolved. But… then why the similar weapons? Could it have just been a coincidence?

  The men did not seem similarly convinced. Devol leapt to his feet as well and strode toward the dvora. She turned as he approached, backing away with wide eyes. It was not the stance of a competent assassin, that much was for sure.

  “You sought to take the prince’s life,” Dev thundered.

  “No, I would never, you are mad—”

  “I think you look like just the right type to offer a sizable reward,” Devol said coldly, inches from her now. “A bounty on a prince’s head would be enough to set you up anywhere comfortably.”

  “I would never—I thought I could make a place here away from—maybe not as a wife but as something. I would never have endangered that chance. I’m so stupid. I should have known this wouldn’t work.” She buried her face in her hands.

  Renala’s despair twisted knots in Miara’s stomach. Perhaps there was more to this woman than her beauty. But then, of course there was. There always was. How foolish to have ever thought otherwise. How could she let her feelings blind her so thoroughly?

  Devol scowled and strode away. “Well, either it wasn’t her, or she’s a better actress than I’ve ever seen.”

  Renala glanced up quickly, hope in her wet eyes.

  Aven nodded. “Excuse our accusation, my lady, but we needed to be careful. Two attackers tried to kill me just a short while ago. They were both disguised as Miara, using magic.”

  “The attackers wielded the weapons Miara tried at the Proving Grounds the day you were there,” Devol said. “So we believe they must have been there that day.”

  “But you were only learning.” Renala spoke as if only to Miara.

  Miara shrugged. “Indeed, I know how to use a dagger, but I’m not much with those weapons, certainly not good enough to defeat Aven.”

  “We’re trying to figure out who’s behind this,” said Aven. “There weren’t many other people there that day. I can’t think that Thel would have anything to do with it—”

  Renala’s body went suddenly rigid.

  “What is it?” Miara said. “Did Thel say something?”

  “Oh, no. Bu
t my maid was with us—Pyandra.”

  “So?”

  “She arrived yesterday. I thought it odd my brothers would send help after me, but her details seemed to fit. They’ve never sent anyone to tend to me before, although I had servants at home. Perhaps—” She stopped and stared off into space for a moment, face pale.

  “Perhaps they didn’t send her?” Miara finished for her.

  Renala’s eyes came back into focus as she met her gaze. “Yes.”

  “But how would someone know our dvora was here, to pretend to be a servant for her?” Devol asked.

  “Someone in disguise among one of the attendant noble parties would know. They could leave and return in a new disguise, knowing more than any arriving outsider should know.” Aven scratched his jaw, thinking.

  “We need to find this Pyandra. And fast. What if she’s realized we’re onto her because we’re talking to Renala? Was she there when Devol came by?” Miara asked.

  Renala nodded. Aven swore.

  “Then we don’t have another moment to lose,” Aven said. “Let’s go.”

  The three of them hurried off, leaving Miara alone yet again. She was just starting to feel bitter about it when they returned—entirely too quickly and alone.

  “She’s gone,” Devol groaned as he came panting into view.

  “Along with her things,” added Renala, frowning. “My lord, I’m so sorry I let her inside. I must repay you somehow for this grave mistake.”

  Aven waved her off, then sat down on the bench beside Miara and scratched his jaw. “They were likely already inside, if our theory is correct. The more important matter is, what are we going to do now?”

  Aven escorted Renala back to her rooms. The tension of unspoken questions was thick in the air.

  Perhaps he should just be straight with her and let her go home. It was cruel to lead her on like this, although it might be equally cruel to reject her at this down moment. With the way the day had been going, and preparations to leave for Panar nearing completion, he might not have another good chance.

  “I apologize again for accusing you, dvora,” Aven said.

  “It’s all right. An attempt on your life is a serious matter.”

  “It’s got me thinking…” How could he broach this subject? “I don’t want to waste your time here. But I just… I don’t think this is going to be a good match.”

  “Oh.” She paused.

  He studied her intently. Her face was placid, almost relaxed. If his words had hurt her, she showed no sign.

  “You should just tell her, you know,” she said.

  “Tell her what? Who?”

  “I think you know. Miara. The Kavanarian you brought back with you.”

  Aven blinked in surprise. Was it obvious to everyone?

  “I had figured you would say this eventually. You clearly love her. You should just tell her. I would not want to stand in the way of that. And to think, a commoner as queen? I rather like that idea. I’ve known enough nobles to know the status is not synonymous with virtue or skill.”

  “I—ah—”

  “You do love her, don’t you? I see the way you look at her.”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “Perhaps I have had incentive to look harder than most.”

  “Or—”

  “Or perhaps, yes, it is that obvious. Your face lights up at the sight of her.”

  He looked down, struggling to stifle a boyish grin and failing. “You are very perceptive, Renala of Esengard. It’s supposed to be secret. For now.”

  “Oh, she knows? Returns your affections?”

  “Yes and yes.”

  “Then why the secrecy? Because she’s a commoner? Many great kings have had mistresses—”

  “No,” Aven said harshly. “No, not that. Miara will make a great queen.”

  “Not because of me, I hope?”

  “No. She’s just so new to this place, and of the enemy. We thought, well, the king suggested perhaps it’d be best if she earned more of a place first. Became more one of us.”

  She nodded. “I thought you were only just falling for her, so perhaps that plan is working.” She paused. “Gods, I’m so relieved.”

  “Relieved?” He hadn’t expected that, and he let out a laugh.

  “Yes. I don’t want to marry.” There was more she wasn’t telling him, something she left out. “My brothers sent me here. Busy with their new wives.”

  “New wives?”

  “They want me out of the way. I’ve been running my father’s household since my mother passed away. But now the eldest’s wife will take over. And both my younger brothers have wives as well, fighting for lesser duties. I guess they didn’t want me to add to the fray. All those years running things for them, and I’m left with nothing but my marriage prospects.”

  “Which you don’t want.”

  “Precisely. I don’t want to marry at all. But what can I do? I have no other skills. They wouldn’t let me learn any. What am I to do, sell embroidery?”

  He nodded solemnly. “That’s not an impossible idea, honestly. I’m sure you have other skills you haven’t realized. You’re welcome to stay here while you figure it out. Just because I’ve said we’re not a great match doesn’t mean you have to leave.”

  “I’m sure they have a list of visits for me to make.”

  “Perhaps you can figure out something else here. We won’t be sending any formal declarations of the failure of our union to your brothers. We have enough else going on. And hey, the Takarans are still here, you’re not even coming close to the length of their stay, eh?”

  She laughed. “I heard they were staying permanently.”

  “Perhaps. That might be the case.” He was noncommittal, grinning.

  They strolled in silence awhile.

  “Thank you for being so understanding, Renala. I hope you can find a man someday that is perfect for you.”

  “Indeed. I hope I can find… someone some day. Yes.” There was meaning to the pause, but he was not sure what it was. Perhaps a man was not what she was looking for. Was that why she was so determined not to marry? With no independent money to rely on or skills, she had a hard path ahead. Perhaps Fayton could walk her through what skills she had. She might not realize some were actually marketable.

  They reached her rooms. “Again—stay as long as you need. I won’t even mention anything beyond us for now. But after all this, I wanted you to know.”

  “I should be the one thanking you, Aven Lanuken.” She smiled and drifted into her rooms.

  He bowed and fled before he revealed any more secrets to any foreign dignitaries.

  The heavy pound of hooves outside. Jaena knew those sounds. Something about them told her this was no farmer and his wagon, no Nemin returning from the city.

  The Devoted.

  At least there seemed to be no dogs this time. Tharomar was sprawled on the fur at her feet, studying some leather-bound book she hadn’t recognized. She sat as close as she’d dared to the fire—it was freezing when you couldn’t get up and move around.

  The horses stopped outside. Ro hadn’t moved, but his eyes had lifted, head tilted slightly. He, too, was listening carefully. The sound of men dismounting, footsteps approaching.

  Gods.

  Someone knocked on the door. Tharomar stood and strode toward it. She was out of his sight but not that of someone standing outside.

  She threw herself out of the chair and onto the floor. She gritted her teeth to the pain and rolled into the only hiding place: under the bed.

  Oblivious, Ro opened the door.

  Seven hells. She could see their boots. This was it. They had found her. At least three Devoted waited outside in the rain.

  “We’re continuing our search for the renegade mage. Stand aside. How many here.” The words were more demand than question.

  “Be my guest,” Ro said, turning away and making room for them. His feet moved as he turned toward her chair and seemed to freeze for just a split se
cond as he saw it empty.

  He would know what her disappearance meant. That she was the mage they were looking for. Without intending it, she’d just let her secret out. Not that she had much choice in the matter.

  “How many,” the knight demanded.

  “I live alone,” Tharomar said.

  Her heart leapt in her chest. Not a lie. Also not the truth. But—he was covering for her.

  “Hrm.” One knight moved carefully around the room. He seemed to be carrying something magical, like the repression stones they wore—but different. She longed to move just a hair closer and sneak a peak at it. But—no, it wasn’t worth the risk. Could it be what they had used to detect her presence near the bridge?

  None of the other knights moved. They didn’t turn over everything looking for her. But they were looking for a mage—any mage. Ro was standing right in front of them, although he didn’t know it. He believed he had nothing to hide.

  “It says all clear. No mages here.”

  How were they missing him? And her, for that matter?

  “There’s a slight vibration—you may have purchased a charmed salve or herb without realizing it. Might be wise to replace such things, if you value your soul.”

  Tharomar said nothing. He must had nodded or acknowledged them somehow because they seemed satisfied and turned to leave.

  “Be on the lookout for this rogue mage. Here. She is dangerous and not to be trifled with. King’s permission to kill on sight.”

  “You said as much before,” Tharomar replied, his voice cold.

  “We’ll be back through tomorrow if you see anything.”

  “Nefrana bless your journey.”

  The door shut. At first, his boots just stayed near the door, unmoving. She heard a piece of paper unfold, and a chill shot through her.