The Twelve Kingdoms

by Jeffe Kennedy

  When I finished, holding the last pose for an endless, still moment—always my favorite part—I realized I’d forgotten Harlan’s presence. He sat nearby, expression rapt, eyes glittering in the way I’d discovered meant desire.

  “You should do that for me naked sometime,” he commented.

  “I don’t think you need any more encouragement for your prurient fantasies,” I replied, tartly enough to slice through his trance.

  He only grinned at me. “Don’t worry. I have the fantasies with or without the encouragement.”

  “You are a strange man.”

  “Ah, my lady love sees through me.” He clasped a hand over his heart, imitating a court minstrel. Then stood when I laughed and, heedless of my sword, snagged me around the waist before I could step away. “Kiss me, Ursula.”

  “I already did—a number of times.”

  “Not enough.” His mouth captured mine, not so gentle this time, but with a searching hunger, hot, urgent. Hands harder on me than they had been thus far, he pulled me tight against him and wrapped me in a bear hug, one big hand cupping my neck as his mouth and tongue moved over mine. Like answering a swifter attack, I responded in kind. He’d pulled on his clothes at some point but left the shirt unlaced, so my hand bracing on his bare chest encountered the shocking heat of his skin. Without thinking, I dug my nails in and he growled, low and rumbling.

  Gasping, unbalanced by the rapid rise of heat, I broke away. He transferred his mouth to my throat just under my ear, sending lightning straight into my blood.

  “What will be enough?” I laughed, because I wanted to groan. To growl as he was.

  Harlan lifted his head, gazing intently into my face. “That’s the thing. I don’t think there ever will be.”

  Unsettled, I moved away and he let me go, though with reluctance, hands maintaining contact until the last moment. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

  “You don’t always have to have an answer,” he replied easily.

  He was wrong on that. I did need an answer.

  We rode out soon thereafter, the day bright and warm. I had to remind myself that we weren’t on a pleasure jaunt, that danger awaited. Somehow, though, the pressing worries of the day before seemed less grim, less looming.

  Sleep always helped. That was all it was.

  Marskal had left markers for me to follow, secret signs the Hawks used. After a time I realized the Vervaldr must have done likewise, as Harlan made directional adjustments before I indicated the path marked for me. I made a game of it, following the direction of Harlan’s eyes, seeing if I could determine what he looked for.

  “The flat gray stones.” I raised an eyebrow at his surprised look. “The number indicate their pace and the alignment the reverse of their direction.”

  “Well done. I’ve not yet determined your system.”

  “And you never will. Trade secret.”

  “We’ll see about that.” He nudged his horse closer and caught my hand, pressing a kiss to it before I pulled away. “I have ways of extracting your secrets.”

  As he had the night before. “Look,” I said, “I don’t want the others to know anything about—”

  “I know how to be discreet,” he interrupted mildly. “Though they know already.”

  “Know what?” I had to work to keep my tone even. “There was nothing to know before this. There’s still nothing to know.” Only a few kisses had passed between us. That hardly qualified as more than a pub flirtation for most of my Hawks. Though saying as much to Harlan would be baiting the bear in a way I did not care to.

  He slid me a look, amused and annoyed, perhaps divining my unspoken thoughts. “You know better. This may be an unusual arena for you, but that’s not so for my men or yours. Warriors are sensitive to the ways of the body. The desire between us is not something they’d miss.”

  The desire between us. I tore my gaze away, to stop the unexpected surge of heat, as if by speaking it, Harlan had evoked it. Had I shown desire for him? I didn’t think I had. I hadn’t even recognized it for what it was. I’d never really believed in it before, I now realized. Standing outside that pane of glass, watching the bizarre motions of people feasting on a meal that had no smell or flavor for me. On some level I’d imagined them all to be pretending, indulging in a lovely fairy tale that had nothing to do with real life.

  “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do about this,” I finally said, pleased that my voice remained steadily neutral.

  “About me, you mean?”

  “Yes.” About his determined pursuit and my surprising, growing interest in tasting more. I couldn’t remain indecisive for long.

  “Do you have to decide?”

  I risked a glance at him, to find him watching me with that expectant look, as if he knew he’d be entertained by whatever I said next.

  “I think it’s important to have a plan, yes.”

  “I’m not a battle for you to strategize, Ursula,” he said mildly.

  “I’m not so sure of that.”

  He laughed, velvety, strumming my nerves. “I look forward to being plundered, then.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up,” I retorted.

  “Too late for that.” He sounded ridiculously cheerful. “My hopes are high indeed. I never thought to find a woman like you. Now I believe all sorts of things are possible. It’s a fine place, your Twelve Kingdoms. I thank your goddess for guiding me here.”

  “I highly doubt Danu had anything to do with it.”

  “You’re her faithful warrior. Is it any surprise she rewarded you for it?”

  “With you?”

  “Yes, my valiant hawk. With me.”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  “Yes. That’s exactly what I’ve been telling you.”

  He had a legal scholar’s turn with arguments, using banter to draw me out, his words as flirtatious in their way as his teasing touches and lavishly bestowed kisses. In the final analysis, however, it mattered not at all. Our idyll had come and gone. Trouble lay ahead and I needed to focus on that.

  No more being multiply weighted. A consolidated, single purpose would see me through. Gain the border to Annfwn without casualties and confer with Andi to set the next course of action.

  Harlan could entertain himself with his pursuit. I had more important things to do.

  We caught up to the others by early evening. They’d paused to eat, roasting a couple of deer the archers had brought down. Good timing, as we could have our fill and carry the scraps with us on the morrow. Hunting opportunities on the pass itself would be scarce.

  “Captain!” Marskal clapped his fist over his heart in the Hawks’ salute, then nodded at Harlan. “Scouts report no trouble. No sign of anything untoward, at all.”

  I studied the steeply rising hills, the peaks sharply jagged, with the cleft where the pass ran through. “Odd.”

  “We thought so, too. Perhaps we’ll see that change tomorrow, as we come closer to the ascent.”

  “Keep the scouts on a short leash. I don’t want anyone going up the pass too far ahead of the main company.” I gave Harlan a pointed look and swung down from the saddle. “That goes for your men, too.”

  “So be it.” He relayed the order as he handed off his horse. “Why?”

  I appreciated that he obeyed first and asked second. We made our way to the campfire, our mingled guard greeting us as usual. No smirks or sidelong looks as I’d dreaded. Either Harlan was wrong and no one suspected a thing, or good discipline won out.

  “Though we’re some distance from the actual border, the Tala should be tracking our approach by now. They like to play tricks to make us uneasy—spooking the horses, stealing supplies. All part of a strategy to turn casual interlopers away. It will get more intense as we get closer, but I’m surprised the scouts have encountered nothing yet.”

  “Perhaps your sister eases the way for you.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “And me with a small army of mercenaries, along with
my elite guard? I don’t think so. Rayfe is no fool, even if Andi would assume my visit to be affectionate rather than aggressive.”

  “And is it?”

  “That all depends on what they know of Amelia and the babies.”

  While Harlan consulted with his lieutenants, I found Dafne settled under a pine tree on a rise, surrounded by books and scrolls. She gave me a cautious smile as I approached.

  “How much trouble am I in?”

  “Unfortunately I have no prison cell handy.”

  “Lucky for me. I apologize, however, for being insubordinate. Marskal took me to task—it hadn’t occurred to me to see it that way.”

  I sat beside her and looked out over the camp. “You’re not a soldier, Lady Mailloux. I don’t expect you to behave as one.”

  She winced. “That’s almost worse than an actual reprimand.”

  “Just be wary of drugging me insensible and leaving me with strange men in the future, yes?”

  “Since I’m not a soldier, I’ll argue there. Captain Harlan is not a strange man. He’s sworn to protect you. And cares about you beyond that.”

  “He has a business contract to do so. Not the same thing.”

  “I’m not sure I agree.”

  “It doesn’t bear debate. Have you found out anything about our mutual and suspicious absentmindedness about certain key personnel?”

  “I have.” She unrolled a scroll I hadn’t read and ran her finger down the crabbed lines.

  “Is that in Dasnarian?”

  “No, thankfully. I’m still limping along in their language, though a number of the Vervaldr are literate and have been helpful.”

  “You haven’t shown them exactly what you’re researching, have you?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Give me more credit than that. I’ve pretended to an interest in Dasnarian marriage customs, playing my spinster card. Alas, though no man in the Twelve will have me, perhaps I can snare a foreigner.” She sighed dramatically and batted her eyelashes.

  I snorted. “From what I hear, you wouldn’t much care for life among them.”

  “From what I’ve read, too. No, this, Your Highness, is Old Elcinean—pre–Common Tongue—and is far more forthcoming on the subject of the Practitioners of Deyrr than any of the Dasnarian texts. In fact, you’ve already seen pretty much everything there is to see there. Either what was in our library is heavily edited or the Dasnarians themselves have little information.”

  “The mercenary captain indicated as much. Most of his insights alluded to rumors and other tall stories.”

  She glanced at me, seeming about to say something, but simply turned her attention to the scroll. “It says here that an invading force of Dasnarians arrived in Elcinea several hundred years ago. Their ranks included—get this, ‘fair-haired giants with bloodthirsty broadswords’—and a group of wizards, mostly female, who wore black cloaks and who could cloud the mind.”

  “Anything more specific about this mind-clouding business?” I easily picked out my personal fair-haired giant moving among the troops. As if feeling my gaze, he looked up, touching the backs of two fingers to his forehead. I hadn’t observed him exchanging that particular salute with his men, only directed toward me. If it meant something flirtatious, we’d have to discuss. I refused to acknowledge the gesture, as always, and he grinned.

  Cocky son of Danu that he was.

  Dafne cleared her throat. “Nothing exact, no. But there is mention of sailing ships returning and the captains asking to report to people who were subsequently discovered to have disappeared.”

  “And no one noticed until that moment.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Interesting.”

  “I thought so, too.”

  I mulled it over. “So if there is some sort of magic at work, it’s localized. And affects mainly active memory. You thought of Lady Zevondeth when you read a mention of her.”

  “Do you think Illyria is doing this?”

  “Entirely possible.” Relief from one worry at least flooded through me. My father wasn’t unstable, just bespelled in some way. “And one convenient aspect of magic workers is that they’re as mortal as any of us.”

  “But she’s the King’s fiancée.”

  “Not if I kill her.”

  Dafne blanched. “You don’t mean to.”

  “I do.”

  “Have you considered how King Uorsin might retaliate?”

  She seemed frightened, so I sought to reassure her. “He will be initially angry, no doubt, but I truly believe her sorcery is to blame for his current behavior. Once the cloud of her dark magic has cleared, he’ll return to being the High King we know and love.”

  “And if he doesn’t?” she demanded. Not fear but anger. “Will you allow him to destroy you?”

  I studied her, uncertain where the anger came from. “My fate is unimportant.”

  “No, Ursula—that’s where you are so thrice-damned wrong. King Uorsin is not more important than you are. Why can’t you see that?”

  “I value your advice, librarian.” I measured the words slowly, managing the anger that wanted to rise to match hers. The smells of roasting meat wafted up from the camp below, strangely unappealing to my sour gut. “And I want you to be able to speak frankly to me. Therefore, I won’t censure you for your words. Be wary, though, of encouraging me to treason.”

  “What if that way leads to your death?”

  “Then so be it. I would never betray my King to save my own life.”

  “I don’t understand how you can think this way.”

  I glanced at her, gripped her shoulder. “Don’t fret so. Danu will guide my sword.”

  “I can only pray she does,” Dafne muttered, gathered her scrolls and took herself off.

  It wasn’t something that bore examining. Being loyal to the King formed the core of who I had to be. It didn’t bear thinking that I could have been wrong in this, all these years. It would mean Salena let him destroy her year by slow year for nothing. That I had let him do the same to me, not because he was more important and above the law, but out of blind cowardice.

  Why do you let him brutalize you?

  It made me ill to contemplate what the true answer might be.

  20

  After we put out the cooking fires and everyone began to settle in for the night, I sought out Harlan as he returned from checking with our watch outposts. “I need to consult with you a moment.”

  His pleased smile flashed white in the rising moonlight and he ran a hand down my arm, on the side away from our people. “I hoped you’d seek me out.”

  “Not like that.” I stepped out of reach. “But I do have several things to discuss.”

  “As you command,” he replied, not at all daunted. Then he turned and began walking into the trees.

  Setting my teeth, I lengthened my stride to catch up. “Where are you going?”

  He lifted a shoulder, let it fall, and glanced over it at me, still moving. “You could have spoken with me publicly at the campfire. I assume you prefer this conversation to be private.”

  We could have been out of earshot and still in public view and well he knew it. He moved behind a dense thicket of trees, deft and silent, despite his bulk. I followed, careful to stay well back.

  Not careful enough, because he snagged me with an arm around my waist, pulling me against him and kissing me in that spot below my ear. I meant to push off, had my hands in place, but that delicious melting sensation had me hesitating, then lifting my chin and humming a little before I got hold of myself.

  “Let me go.”

  “Mmm,” he rumbled. “I missed you.”

  “Nonsense. You’ve been with me all day.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “Well, stop it anyway. I need to talk to you.”

  “So talk.” He spoke against my throat, mouth moving down the thin skin covering the vulnerable artery there. My brain fogged and I nearly forgot the actual reason I’d sought him out. Not for this
.

  I pushed off, taking a step back, glad that years of training kept me steadier than my head would have.

  “Illyria.”

  “Ah.” He leaned back against a tree, folding his arms. “That name will dampen any man’s ardor.”

  “We never discussed what happened the other night at Ordnung.”

  “No. I didn’t think you cared to.”

  “I still don’t, but we must. First, let’s discuss your loyalty.”

  “Do you have reason to question it?” He sounded irritated. Good.

  “You know I don’t believe a contract equates to true loyalty.”

  “And you know I believe a contract does far more to guarantee loyalty than fickle emotion.”

  I nodded, confirming to myself. “If it came down to a test between the terms of the contract and protecting a fellow Dasnarian—what would you do?”

  He didn’t move, but something about his posture told me he’d come to full attention. “What are you saying?”

  “Dafne uncovered some information—from our texts, ones you wouldn’t have seen—that indicates Illyria may have the ability to change how we think. I believe she made me forget about checking in with Lord Percy, even about his existence entirely, as well as other people.”

  He didn’t comment, so I forged on.

  “If she can do that, then the King’s behavior can be ascribed to more such witchcraft. Freeing him of her influence may require her death. I want to know—if I kill her, will that destroy her spells? What other repercussions might there be? She’s not in your contract, but what of your personal feelings? What of any political connections she might have?”

  Again, Harlan let the silence drag out. This time, I waited on his answer. Finally he sighed. “Let me ask you something, Ursula.”

  “I’d prefer you answered my questions.”

  “Too bad. I’ll follow your commands, as I’ve repeatedly demonstrated, but this is just the two of us—private, as you wished. Tell me this. Were you surprised that the King struck you, either time?”