Daughter of Sun, Bride of Ice

by H. L. Burke

  Arynne tilted her head. Kajik had an effortless grace to his fighting style. She eased closer, wanting a better look. Kajik glanced up from his fight and froze. Seeing an opportunity, the red-head charged, sword flying towards Kajik’s exposed flank. Snapping to attention, Kajik leaped to one side, spun, dodged behind the other fighter, and swatted him across the backside with the flat of his blade.

  The red-head yelped and fell face first onto the packed dirt of the courtyard. The other Frorians laughed.

  “Masterful move, young Wrulf!” one shouted.

  The defeated youth’s already flushed cheeks turned crimson.

  Kajik tucked his training blade into his belt and offered Wrulf his hand, pulling him to his feet.

  “You’re getting better. Trust me, my first year in the wardens I tasted more than my share of dirt.” He passed the boy his shield. “Take in the equipment and see if you can rouse Rafal for me. That old politician is wasting light.”

  “That isn’t something we’re exactly short on here,” Arynne said, coming to stand before Kajik.

  He smiled and pushed his goggles up into his sweat-slicked dark hair. His blue eyes twinkled. “Something tells me you’re not supposed to be here.” He nodded at her headcovering. “Is that supposed to be a disguise?”

  She tilted her chin in the air. “No.”

  “I’m hoping you being here doesn’t mean you’re having second thoughts, though if you are, there’s still time.” He scratched his beard. “Rafal and I have a meeting with King Vanya this ... I’m not sure what you call the time after the Moon-High when there is no moon.”

  “Vanya usually conducts his meetings after the second meal when the sandclock is on the waning.”

  “That sounds about right. I am afraid I haven’t quite mastered your sandclocks, but he said he’d send for us so we wouldn’t risk being late.”

  “I haven’t changed my mind—exactly.” She glanced around. The other Frorians were not so subtly watching them. “Can we speak in private?”

  In response he turned to the other men. “Hey, mind your gear, not my business, all right?”

  “Yes, Starwarden,” several of the men said at once. The men rose and wandered away.

  Kajik focused on her again. “As long as we speak in Frorian, we should be able to keep whatever it is between us.”

  Bracing herself, Arynne launched into Elfrida’s story, explaining first how important her handmaiden was to her, how she wouldn’t feel at home without her, then revealing what Elfrida had told her about her past.

  Kajik’s brow furrowed. “That’s a difficulty. I knew from the stories that a few Frorians had sided with Sorcerer Athan during the rebellion, of course, but to my knowledge none have ever tried to return from their banishment.” He scratched at his beard. “It’s been almost three decades. I very much doubt anyone would recognize your handmaiden all these years later, especially if she was merely a youth at the time and of poor family. If she’s willing to change her name, I can make sure she’s not discovered.”

  “And if she is?” Arynne’s chest tightened.

  “It's a risk. I don’t have the authority to promise her safety. None but the king or a majority vote from his council can give pardon for treason. You’ll simply have to ask your handmaiden if she’s willing to take that chance to see her homeland again and remain in your service.”

  Arynne bit her bottom lip. Well, that choice would be Elfrida’s not hers. “I would prefer a stronger assurance, but I understand why you cannot give one.”

  His expression softened. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the answer you wanted to hear, but if your friend does choose to accompany you to Frorheim, I will do what I can to keep her safe.”

  “Thank you.” Something in his tone made her trust him absolutely. He’d do his best for her and Elfrida, and that was all she could ask. “I will leave you to your training.”

  “Actually,” his face brightened, “while you’re here, you should meet the boys. You’ll be traveling with us to Frorheim, so it’d be good to become acquainted.”

  She hesitated. The longer she lingered, the greater the chance someone would see her and bring word of it to Vanya. However, she’d already taken a great risk in coming down there. She might as well make the most of it. “I can stay for a few minutes.”

  “Excellent.” He waved her forward. “They’re right over here.” They walked through the columns of the portico to where a series of bags and bundles were haphazardly stacked against the wall, with five Frorian men using them as cushions to lounge upon. At her approach, they jumped to their feet and stood at attention. Most were young like Kajik, though one had a grizzled appearance with gray in his brown beard and wrinkles around his hazel eyes. Like Kajik, he also wore a silver-star upon his shoulder.

  “Who’s your lady friend, Kay?” a blond man burst out. He was the only member of the group who was clean-shaven though he had the ghost of a first moustache on his upper-lip.

  Arynne arched her eyebrows. “Kay?”

  Kajik coughed. “To my friends.”

  “I like it.” It suited him, short and unpretentious.

  “This ‘lady-friend’ as you so casually put it, Soryl, is the Princess Arynne of Solea—and future princess of Frorheim.” Kajik frowned at the blond, though the displeasure didn’t reach his eyes.

  Soryl’s face fell. “I ... excuse ... forgive me, your majesty.”

  “It's fine.” She nodded graciously. “Apparently we are to be traveling companions of a sort in the near future.”

  “A great honor.” The older man stepped forward and bowed his head. “I am Starwarden Ivak.”

  “My commander and mentor,” Kajik explained. “He’ll be the one ensuring you reach Frorheim safely. Not a better fighter or survivalist in the dark or light.”

  “Kajik flatters me, but he’s the best starwarden I’ve trained in nearly twenty years of service.” Ivak gave the younger man a fond smile. “We handpicked your escort together. Soryl, the mouthy one, you’ve met.” Ivak shot Soryl a glare. The younger man shifted self-consciously. Ivak continued down the line, pointing to each man in turn. “Wrulf, our youngest recruit but he’s a mender—that’s a healer—which makes him our most essential man.” Ivak clapped a brawny, black-bearded fellow on the shoulder. “Tor, best archer in Frorheim, and Yan who doesn’t look like much but can track a pixie-squirrel across solid ice after moonset.” He ended at a thin slip of a man with pale hair and a long nose.

  Arynne placed her hands before her chest and bowed. “It is good to meet you all. I know I’m in good hands for my journey.”

  “Well, now that you’ve met the crew—”

  “Princess Arynne!” an angry voice interrupted Kajik. Arynne's shoulders hunched towards her ears. Oh, not now.

  Vanya burst around the herd folks’ tent.

  Kajik snapped his fingers and jerked his chin at his men. “Make yourself scarce.”

  “Yes, Starwarden.” All of the Frorians, including Ivak who was supposedly Kajik’s commander, disappeared into the sleeping quarters behind them, leaving Kajik and Arynne alone to face Vanya’s wrath.

  The king stopped short, his stare burning holes through Arynne’s skin. She set her jaw. Though her heart pounded, she would not flinch.

  Kajik eased closer. “It honors us to see you.” He broke into his accented Solean. “I did not expect—”

  “I’m here to talk to my sister, not you,” Vanya snapped. “Arynne, why are you out of the maidens’ quarters without a chaperone?”

  Arynne hesitated. Should she tell him about Elfrida? Would he be sympathetic? Even Vanya would have to understand how much the woman meant to her, and how Arynne had to ensure her safety.

  “It was a matter of urgency—”

  “A matter of urgency is no excuse to break my rules.” Apparently Vanya was not in the mood to listen. “When a servant told me you’d been sighted leaving the maidens’ quarters unattended, I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. I
thought maybe the near-sighted old maid had been mistaken so I came to see for myself, but no. Here you are, causing shame to us.”

  “But brother—”

  “It’s my fault, sire.” Kajik inserted himself between them. “My culture has far different rules for the meeting of men and women. They are allowed to move about together. I did not realize desiring to speak with the princess would be ill-thought.”

  Vanya continued to glare at Arynne. “What your culture’s traditions are does not matter, nor your awareness of ours, or lack thereof. My sister knows what is required of her and still continues to defy me.”

  Arynne stuck out her chest. “I am hardly your concern anymore, brother. I have agreed to go with the Frorians to their land to become their princess. I should conduct myself following their rules and traditions, not ours—”

  Her brother’s face darkened dangerously. “While you are in Solea, you will behave as a Solean princess! Not some barbarian harlot!”

  Kajik coughed, but in his rage, Vanya seemed to have forsaken all diplomacy.

  “You would insult my future home?” Arynne drew on all her pride, matching Vanya’s glare in ferocity. “My future people? The people I will be queen?”

  “You have no idea what it means to be a queen! You are a stubborn, selfish, spoiled girl who thinks only of herself.” Vanya fists clenched. “A queen must walk in quiet dignity and selflessness. You may be a princess, Arynne, but you are far from a queen. If you cannot govern yourself, how do you hope to govern others?”

  His words slapped her in the face. Did he really think so poorly of her? Arynne opened her mouth to protest, but somehow couldn’t speak.

  Kajik cleared his throat. “If to say so I am allowed, if she comes to our land so untamed, it will fall to our prince, her future husband, to tame her.” He glanced at her and murmured in Frorian. “Though in Frorheim, we have a saying that an untamed bride is fire to a man’s spirit. If our prince is wise, he will let you burn.”

  Her breath caught in her chest, and she whispered, likewise in his tongue, “Thank you.”

  Vanya frowned. “What did you say to her?”

  “Just cautioning her our prince will expect more obedience from a bride than you do from a sister,” Kajik returned to his accented Solean. “Have no worries, King Vanya, for your sister’s taming.”

  Vanya tilted his head to one side to study Kajik. “From what you told me of your court, she will not find the hardships there to her liking. My first instinct was to forbid this union, as she is obviously not mature enough to be a bride, let alone a future queen, but perhaps the cold winds of Frorheim will dampen her rebellious spirits.”

  “It is a harsh life,” Kajik said. “However, we need stubborn women, for the weak do not thrive in our lands.”

  “The quicker I am there and not here, the better. Harsh or not.” Arynne scowled and pushed past her brother.

  Yes, going to Frorheim was the right choice. The sooner she left this cursed court the better.

  Chapter Six

  Several waking-times passed with Arynne confined to the maidens’ quarters. When she tried to sneak out, she found guards waiting at the exits to not so subtly herd her back. Vanya saw that her meals were brought to her, but she was deprived of even news. No one would speak to her, or even Elfrida, for fear of Vanya’s wrath.

  For the first waking-time, and mostly sleepless resting-time, Arynne feared her impulsive decision to visit the guest quarters had caused Vanya to reconsider the betrothal altogether. However, after the second meal, a group of maids arrived carrying bundles of clothing from the Frorian emissary: the cold-weather suitable garments Kajik had promised her. The royal seamstress visited shortly after, and the next several waking-times were spent fitting Arynne into her new traveling clothes so that she’d be prepared for her departure.

  Well, if anything, Vanya’s attitude assured her that she would not miss life in Solea much. Finally after five full anxious waking-times had passed, Vanya summoned her to the Mingling Room for one last lecture on her lack of impulse control and maturity before announcing that he’d cleared his schedule so he could accompany her convoy as far as the edge of Solean territory and properly see her off. They’d leave after a final resting-time.

  Arynne half-heartedly thanked him for the escort, though she suspected it was only to assure she got safely across the borders without doing something to publicly humiliate him. Riding naked across the dunes on an untamed stallion or consulting with evil wind-spirits, possibly. All she wanted was to get back to her room and sleep so the departure came quicker. Thankfully he finished prating and let her leave.

  After sending Elfrida to request that her final meal be brought to her bedroom rather than the more public gardens, she slumped down the hall and entered her chambers. She shut the door, blocking the light from the hall mirrors, and sat on the edge of her bed in total darkness. This bargain with the Frorians was supposed to make her happy, but it seemed it had only brought to light how miserable she truly was. Well, if Elfrida returned to find her like this, there would be questions.

  Arynne arose and felt her way to the lampstand in the corner. Breathing in, she focused on drawing only the smallest drip of her magic into her hand. Her index finger glowed red. Arynne held her breath, then let out a quick “puff” of air through her pursed lips. Simultaneously fire sparked from her fingertip, lighting the oil in the bowl. As golden light spread across the room, she yanked her hand away and held it aloft in case her magic flared uncontrollably. It didn’t. She crowed in triumph.

  “Nice work.”

  At the unexpected, masculine voice Arynne shrieked and spun about, hands before her. Flames shot across a bedroom, in the direction she’d thought the sound had come from, but revealed nothing.

  “Careful!” the voice now came directly from her left, but she recognized it this time and somehow managed to control her panic and staunch the flames. She glared at Kajik.

  “How did you get in here?” she snapped.

  “Sneaked in.” He shrugged and settled on the edge of her bed as if he belonged there.

  “Liar!” She thought back on what he’d told her about his land, about the sort of magicians they had. Menders who could heal—like young Wrulf—prophets, starcasters but that was only the royal line ... and travelers. “You can teleport, can’t you?”

  He grinned. “Pretty and smart. Our prince is a lucky man.”

  “Don’t make me roast you.” She held her palm towards him in warning. He winked and was gone.

  “Only if you can catch me,” he whispered from behind her.

  Resisting the urge to bring her unpredictable magic into play, she spun and gave him a good shove. Her hands collided into his solid chest muscles, not so much as swaying him on his feet.

  “Easy!” He held up his own hands. “I’m sorry, but I needed to meet with you, and between Rafal managing me and your brother managing you, it wasn’t going to happen if I didn’t break a few rules. I’d think you would appreciate that.”

  She could. “There’s a bench by the dressing table. I don’t want to have someone walk in on you sitting on my bed.” As much as she liked Kajik, if rumor reached the Frorians that she’d allowed him to take liberties with her, it could end her marriage before it started—and with it her chances of escaping Vanya’s grasp. He took the seat she’d indicated, but she remained standing, examining him.

  “So you can just pop in and out at will? Anywhere you want to go?”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that. There are limitations. In my kingdom, magical wards have been invented that can prevent rooms from being traveled in and out of. Mostly treasuries, sleeping chambers of important people who might be assassinated—women’s bathhouses, unfortunately.” He winked.

  She rolled her eyes at him, refusing to be shocked.

  “For another thing, it takes energy.” He rubbed his hands on his legs as if they ached.

  “Physical energy?” Her own magic drew from the war
mth of her body or the sun, not necessarily from her strength.

  “Yes.”

  “You haven’t seemed that tired after you’ve used it.” Now that she knew his secret, she was certain that was how he’d gotten into the banquet hall to spy on her meeting with Vanya. Both then and in the moments before, he hadn’t seemed fatigued.

  “Distance matters a great deal. It’s similar in effort to the amount of strength it would take to run the distance I travel across, so a few steps across a room or a courtyard, I’m not even going to be winded.” He brushed his hand back through his hair which had flopped boyishly over his forehead. “If I teleport over large distances, it’s instantaneous, but at the end I feel as if I’ve been running for an hour straight. It takes even more effort if I’m carrying a burden or dragging another human with me—which I can if I’m holding onto them. Travelers who push themselves to the edge of their abilities often collapse unable to move at the end of a long leap. I’ve heard stories that some have even died overdoing it. Thankfully learning to pace ourselves and know our limits is an early part of our training. Worst aftermath I’ve ever had was a few moonnotches of strings for legs and needing to nap for hours on end.”

  “And you can go anywhere?” She tilted her head, considering what trouble a man like Kajik could get into with such an ability.

  “Are you always this inquisitive?” He laughed. “This isn’t what I came here to discuss with you.”

  In response, she narrowed her eyes at him.

  “I see how it is.” He rubbed at his beard, continuing to quietly laugh. “It helps if I am familiar with the place I’m traveling to, so I can picture it in my mind. If that isn’t possible, a description or visualizing it on a map or in a drawing can help, but it’s less precise. For a place I’ve never been before that I don’t have a map to or a description of, well, I can also travel to objects if I’m familiar enough with them.” He reached behind him onto her vanity table and picked up a glowing crystal: the starshard he’d given her. “I had a feeling that this would be here, and I carried it in my pocket long enough to get a good visual of it, so I just recalled that and blinked within spitting distance of it. Easy enough.”