Goldenmark

by Jean Lowe Carlson

  This obelisk was twice Elyasin’s height but only a handspan thick, slim like a needle. She set her hand to its strangely warm surface, then startled to see Luc nearby. Leaning against a tomb in the near-dark, Luc had his arms crossed, a thoughtful scowl upon his face. His singing-stone cast a low light in a niche nearby, as if forgotten.

  “Luc,” Elyasin announced her presence. “What are you doing?”

  “Fuck!” Luc visibly startled, then gave a wry laugh. “Don’t sneak up on a man like that!”

  “Be careful in the dark or you might lose yourself in it, Luc,” Elyasin teased lightly.

  “All too true.” Luc sighed, his head falling back against the tomb. He was clearly not in a teasing mood, and Elyasin stepped over.

  “Heavy thoughts?”

  “You could say that.” Luc rubbed his fingers as if they hurt. It was a distracted gesture, not unlike Elyasin’s tic of rubbing her knuckles when she was anxious. Reaching up, he curried both hands through his golden mane with an exasperated sigh. Elyasin touched his hands and pulled them down. He blinked at her, then looked at her hand holding his, his smile awful.

  “Care to share?” Elyasin prodded gently.

  “Not really.”

  “Indulge me.”

  “Is that an order?” Luc eyeballed her.

  “You’re stewing, Luc.” Elyasin stroked his hand. “Something’s eating you up. You can tell me. Remember?”

  Luc gave another hard sigh, then spoke, gripping her fingers. “Elyasin... the other day. When that wight appeared, I saw something manifest when you and Therel did battle. Like something was fighting the wight through you, directly from the Brother Kings. I can’t get it out of my head and it’s driving me crazy, thinking that the Brother Kings are just using you and Therel like puppets. That Morvein’s pendants meant for it to happen to whatever poor sops inherited those damn things.”

  Elyasin was quiet. She’d been mulling over the exact same thing, in her own way. “It’s like that and it’s not, Luc. I can feel Hahled Ferrian inside me since that battle. Not like he takes me over, but that his wyrria flows through me. I felt heated when we were attacked, and I just knew how to move – how to gather this tremendous force inside myself and thrust it out at that thing.”

  “But Ghrenna’s losing herself to Morvein’s influence.” Luc watched her with shrewd green eyes. “I can’t – I can’t sit around and watch that happen to Therel.”

  “And to me, you mean.” Elyasin gave a sad smile. Luc couldn’t hold her gaze and looked down. Elyasin’s gaze dropped to their twined fingers, feeling Luc’s care for her, though it was wrapped up in his torture about Ghrenna. Slowly, she disentangled her fingers and let him go.

  His gaze was bleak as he found hers. “You know that I care for you. I never would have stayed at Lhen Fhekran if I didn’t.”

  “I know.” Elyasin reached out, touching a patch of luminous moss upon the tomb, as if it could ground this conflicted feeling inside her. “Luc. When we were young... I saw how you suffered at Roushenn, in your family. I never wanted to trap you into serving my line. You know I want the best for you, ever since we were children, but Therel’s my true love. You only feel something for me because Ghrenna’s pulling away, because she’s changing. You need to let us all change, Luc. When I channeled Hahled’s power against that wight, it was the most natural thing in the world. I’ve studied the sword for years, but I’ve never moved like that. It was mine as much as it was Hahled’s.”

  “But what if his power breaks you, like Morvein is breaking Ghrenna?” Luc eyes were woeful.

  “Morvein can’t break Ghrenna,” Elyasin felt a hard truth surface within her. “Because Ghrenna is Morvein, and you know it. They’ve never been different, Luc. Only a part of her was dormant before. A part that’s stronger than the rest, and is waking now.”

  Luc went silent, staring into the distance toward the pinnacle of the cavern-mound. “A part that never loved me.”

  “A part that knows her duty above all else,” Elyasin cupped Luc’s face with her hand. “And so do I.”

  “But if it came to it,” Luc’s gaze pierced hers, “you’d choose Therel. I know it. You’d choose love over duty, your husband over your kingdom.”

  “My husband is my kingdom, Luc,” Elyasin gave a soft smile. “He’s a part of me. As are all of the people I need to protect. Including you.”

  “But you’ll never love me, either,” Luc gave a soft snort. “What a life I lead, falling for all the wrong women. I should never have left Fhouria.”

  “And yet, here you are.” Elyasin let her voice go stern. It was time to teach Luc something about destiny, and Elyasin put a Queen’s edge in her voice, something Olea had taught her long ago. “Take the path you’ve chosen, Luc. Do something with it. Your life is your own, and who you choose to help along the way is entirely up to you. If you call yourself a slave to monarchs or even to love, then you always will be. But though Hahled’s power uses me, I am a slave to none, because my life is what I choose to make of it. So decide. Decide who you are, and quit this feeling of false responsibility you enslave yourself with. Use your gifts to help us or don’t, your choice. Because you’re not a slave, and you never were.”

  Luc stared at her – a level, weighing gaze as he pondered the full import of her words. He drew a deep breath in and let it out. “I guess I’m scared, Elyasin.”

  “Scared of being yourself?” Elyasin cocked her head, unsure where this was going now.

  “Scared of my own power.” Luc met her gaze squarely, raw honesty in his green eyes.

  “Oh, Luc!” Elyasin reached out, cupping his face again. “You’re more powerful than—”

  “No. That’s not what I mean.” Gently, he pulled her hand down from his face, cupping it in his palms. “I’ve had this feeling for a while... what if something’s happening to wyrria in the world?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like it’s growing stronger, waking up?” Luc’s gaze pierced her. “My healing has gotten stronger since Highsummer. So have Ghrenna’s changes, and now, you and Therel channel the Brother Kings, and Elohl is some mythical savior of the world. Halsos, even Thad’s manifesting memory-wyrria that puts any scholar I’ve ever heard of to shame! Fae-tales never hold so much magic, except when times are dire. Lhaurent, these wars... what if all this chaos and power rises because something worse than Lhaurent is coming?”

  “The red-eyed demon of Elsthemi lore, you mean.” A shiver rippled through Elyasin.

  Luc nodded, his green eyes piercing the gloom. “And what if Morvein designed those pendants because she knew someone had to come back with power strong enough to match it? As many someones as she could make come back?”

  Elyasin drew in a deep breath, a Kingsman breath, and used it to process all the things Luc was saying. They seemed too wild – yet, deep inside, her gut told her he spoke true. Heaviness settled in her heart. Stroking the moss upon the bier, she touched tiny fronds of a luminous fern but it failed to comfort her. The white and red inkings stood out upon the backs of her hands, running down her forearms like live fire, but for the first time it failed to make Elyasin feel warm in the blackness. A terrible chill stole into her heart and she shivered.

  “Something rises in the world, Luc. Like a leviathan, provoking terrible crimes. I would pin the atrocities of the past decades upon Lhaurent, except that something within me says you’re right. Facing that wight, I felt so alone. I’ve never felt so terribly alone, like a great darkness gathered all around me... What if Morvein felt this way?”

  But just when she’d sunk into despair, Luc reached out and pulled Elyasin into an embrace. A warming sensation filled her; Luc’s golden light pouring from his hands as he cradled her with one hand at the back of her heart. It filled Elyasin with purpose, with grace and strength. As the feel of a summer’s day filled her, Elyasin shivered off despair, understanding the true blessing of what Luc was – light against the darkness.

  They stood ther
e, breathing together. At last, Luc pulled back to gaze at Elyasin with a stolid readiness. “Whatever you need from me, just say it. I used to think serving House den’Ildrian trapped me, but... I want to be by your side, Elyasin. I’m a better man, serving you, feeling you believe in me. Standing with you.”

  “Don’t stand with me as my servant, Luc,” Elyasin looked up into his eyes. “Stand with me as my friend. Be the man you were born to be. Independent and full of grace against the darkness.”

  Luc gave a chuckle. Reaching up, he stroked a lock of hair from Elyasin’s face. “Grace, huh? No one’s ever said that about me before. Full of shit with cards up my sleeve, maybe. Weighted dice in my pocket, knives in my boots.”

  “Use whatever you have, Luc,” Elyasin laughed back, feeling lighter. “Just do it for your own reasons.”

  He paused, watching her. Elyasin sobered, feeling a strange weight in the moment, but before she could say anything, Luc leaned down. Brushing his lips over hers – stealing a kiss in the gravitas. “Do not forget that there are people who will fight for you,” Luc murmured. “Who love you.”

  “Not the least of which, are her King and husband.” A strong baritone spoke from the darkness.

  Luc startled, his hands dropping away as if struck by lightning. Elyasin glanced over, to see Therel approach from the dark, his white wolf-pelt and mussed blonde hair luminous in the shrouded gloom. Therel’s pale blue gaze flicked over the scene, narrowed with regal fury. Luc turned, a flash of possessiveness in his eyes as he offered Elyasin a hand. She ignored it, stepping to Therel as her King arrived. Lifting up, Elyasin gave her husband a solid kiss, making him feel her heart. He gripped her with strong hands, pressing his kiss deep into her mouth as if claiming her like a wild animal. It was a moment before Therel let her go. When he did, he clasped her around the waist, turning her in his arms so she faced Luc, his hot breath giving Elyasin chills as he regarded Luc with a dangerous stare.

  “I don’t need to worry about my wife in her healer’s arms, do I?”

  “Therel—” Luc protested.

  But Therel waved a hand, a glimmer of wrath in his eyes as he kept Elyasin close. “Peace. My Queen knows where her favored sword lies, and it’s not between your legs, healer. But I heard what you said, and you’re right. Love binds us stronger down here than wyrria ever could.”

  Threading his fingers through hers, Therel lifted up Elyasin’s hand to kiss her knuckles. His tundra-pale eyes pierced her, and Elyasin felt herself shiver as Therel held her gaze with devouring lust and deep steadiness. Where once the wolf was wild in the night, he was now ready, a power running through him that made Elyasin tingle to the ends of her fingertips.

  The power of the Brother Kings.

  “We triumph where others fail,” Therel spoke, “because like telmenberry, we are stronger together. Holding fast, clinging heart to heart and vine to vine. Making an impenetrable barrier that none can breach and protecting our sweetest fruits. The best parts of living.”

  Elyasin reeled, feeling Therel’s power twist into hers, feeling her heat and Therel’s smooth ardor twine together like the vines of telmen. The sensation flooded her, bound her, until Elyasin felt that she and Therel were two parts of the same twinned power – two sides of the same heart.

  “Luc. Would you excuse my King and I?”

  “As you wish.” Luc’s words were clipped. He moved away, sulking off into the mist, his lanky stride firm as if in challenge as he left Elyasin and her King alone. Reaching up, Therel stroked Elyasin’s hair back from her face, cupping his hand beneath her nape.

  “How long has it been since we made love?” He growled.

  “Too long.” Elyasin’s breath quickened.

  “How long?” Therel growled, moving in. His body pressed close, his soft lips beginning to kiss along her neck.

  “Since the day before the invasion,” Elyasin breathed, pulled in by Therel’s warm hands at her neck and back. Yielding with a moan, warmth flooded her, tingling between her thighs.

  “A mistake I aim to rectify.” Holding her firm, Therel kissed deep into her neck below her jaw.

  “The others will hear us.”

  “Let them,” Therel growled into her throat. “My wife has needed her husband for weeks, and he has been a callous cur. Too caught up in my own bullshit until I saw you two together just now.”

  “So you only come to me out of jealousy?”

  “No, jealousy was only the spark,” Therel growled. “When we fought together against that wight – that’s when I remembered. How it feels to move with you. To fight with you at my side or fuck with you in my bed. I am lost without you, and when I deny our love, I only make us weak. Love me, my Queen. Take me down, right now – don’t say no.”

  Therel’s hands were all over her. Cupping Elyasin’s breasts, pulling the buckles of her jerkin. His lips were upon her neck, pressing her with lust and love. Therel was a madman of passion, but he was her madman, and she needed his love more than she needed breath. Elyasin pulled him down to the moss. They tore into each other like beasts, hands pulling at clothing, kissing as if they ate each other from the mouth down. Caught in their ardor, Elyasin hardly heard the shout that came from far up the hillside.

  Until it came again – Thad’s voice calling their names with urgency.

  “What in Halsos?!” Therel growled, glancing up with one hand at the longknife in his boot-sheath. He gave an exasperated roar, frustration emanating from his entire body as he ground his hips down upon Elyasin. Thad continued to call them, and the area brightened as his voice neared. Elyasin lifted her chin to see Thad upside-down, waving at them vigorously with his glowing singing-stone through the mist.

  “My Queen! My King! Oh!” Thad balked, his eyes widening as he registered the scene. His cheeks colored as he hastily swiped the spectacles from his face and turned his back. “Forgive me! But I’ve made a discovery, my lieges! Up at the central tomb. There’s something you should see.”

  Therel growled again as the scribe scuttled back up the hillside. He pressed kisses down Elyasin’s chest toward her breasts, but the moment was broken and they both knew it. Therel sighed, resting his forehead on her chest. “Karthor’s sake. This better be good.”

  Elyasin shifted and Therel rolled off her so she could rise. As she fixed her clothing, Therel did the same, bucking his jerkin back up. Reaching down with a growl, he adjusted his member where it strained at the crotch of his breeches, then beckoned Elyasin on ahead of him. As she moved past, she paused to give his crotch a fondle. “We are coming back to this.”

  “As my Queen desires.” Therel’s smolder was deeply pleased as he took out his singing-stone and hummed it to life. Ascending the hill, Elyasin felt Therel’s hand caress her rear as she walked. She turned and swatted him.

  “What?” Therel grinned. “Can’t a man enjoy his own wife’s delicious ass?”

  “We have to take command right now, Therel,” Elyasin laughed back.

  “I’d rather command you around the sack a little more.” Therel growled, humor in his tone. He surged to trap Elyasin, his tundra-pale eyes shining, and Elyasin let herself be caught. Raising up, she brought her lips to his. A hot fire burned through her, matched by the slow pour of Therel’s kiss down her throat. Deep like a river, the rush of his kiss was exhilarating. Elyasin wound her arms around his shoulders as he pulled her closer with a low growl, eating deeply at her lips.

  It was a long moment before they separated, breathless. Something passed between them, like an understanding or a connection they’d never had before. A slow wash of light moved through Elyasin’s red and white inkings where they stood out upon her arms and upper chest, echoed by the same upon Therel’s skin in violet and white. Therel’s gaze stalked Elyasin as she turned, making her skin heat as she headed up the incline again. When they reached the pinnacle, Thad’s eyes were concerned as he took off his spectacles and lipped their ends watching a slow roll of light still passing through their twinned markings. G
hrenna stood by Thad with her long white hair bound over one shoulder, watching also, as Luc slouched like a handsome shadow against an obelisk, glowering.

  Elyasin moved to where Thad stood beside a black obelisk – the nearest of seven that stood in a wide ring, their spire-sharp needles encircling a broad pool of black water. A gargantuan stone tomb rose from a bier at the center of that water, an isolated island in the middle of the small lake. Larger and more ornate than the others, this tomb was obsidian glass, but easily twice the size of the others and positively cluttered with white sigils. Every available space was inlaid; whorls of white, curls of silver, and script of pure gold writhed over the entire surface of the tomb and gabled lid. The only tomb set into the pool of water, the ring of black spires clutched the pool like some ancient creature’s implacable grip – one additional spire rising from inside the pool at the foot of the sarcophagus.

  “It’s time we go where we were meant to.” Ghrenna spoke as everyone arrived, her cerulean eyes almost fevered by the light of the singing-stones and the incandescence still sliding through Therel and Elyasin’s new inkings. “Thad made a discovery this morning, and it has provoked memories long hidden inside Morvein’s mind – the next step of our journey. But we cannot take that step unless we are aligned. We’ve lived dark days, but they will be worse if we cannot stand as one.”

  Elyasin did not miss the pointed gaze that Ghrenna shot Luc. Almost as if she were herself and not Morvein, that glance held both warning and affection for the surly thief. Luc flushed, though Elyasin could see his temper was not gone. Elyasin glanced to Therel, some part of her knowing that Morvein had spoken to her Brother Kings this way before they had traveled to the White Ring. She saw an answering knowledge in Therel’s eyes, and worry as he reached out, claiming Elyasin’s hand.