The dark-haired woman leapt off Keelia’s winged back as soon as she was able. She raked her hands through long, dark hair which was touched with a few strands of gray, and muttered a few curse words that made Rayne, for all her lessons, blush.
Keelia stood tall and shook her wings, which at her silent command retracted and then disappeared. Rayne watched as the Queen’s eyes became more human than birdlike once again, as the feathers in her hair either fell or retracted as the wings on her back had. Her gaze fell immediately on Rayne, then on the Arndell brothers, then on Joryn, who rushed forward to greet her.
When the greeting was done, Keelia led the woman she’d carried on her back toward Rayne. Was this the Queen’s mother, the woman she had left camp to seek? There was no familial resemblance, if that was the case. The wind-blown woman smiled warmly at Lyr, and he returned her smile.
“It’s good to see you well,” she said. “Keelia told me it was so, but such words are not enough for a mother when her son is at war.”
Mother! Rayne straightened her back. This woman was Lyr’s mother.
“It’s good to see you, too,” Lyr said casually.
Rayne expected that Lyr’s mother and Keelia would stop when they reached Lyr. Surely that’s why they had returned on this day, when Lyr had himself just returned. There was so much to be said, so many details to be taken care of. Lyr had the matter of the crystal dagger to discuss with his cousin, and since Keelia was a psychic, it was more than possible that she knew about that important matter.
Rayne could not help but wonder what Lyr would say to his mother about her. Would he bother to say anything at all? Rayne held her breath, but Keelia and her companion walked right past her and Lyr, their eyes on Rayne’s bodyguards.
“Aunt Isadora, these are the Arndell brothers, Devlyn”—Keelia indicated that twin with a wave of her hand—“and Trystan.”
A wave of emotion crossed the older woman’s face. “Stars above.” She reached out to touch Trystan’s face. “You look so much like your father.”
With those words, she had the full attention of the sentinels.
“You knew our father?” Devlyn asked.
Keelia explained, as the woman she had carried to the camp seemed to be struck speechless. “Aunt Isadora knew your father and your mother well, and I have brought her here to tell you an incredible story.”
Isadora recovered her composure and said, “We have more to do here than to rehash old times. Which of you possesses the ring?”
Neither of them wore a ring, Rayne knew, but that didn’t mean they didn’t possess one.
After a few moments passed, Trystan drew a chain from beneath his shirt. Dangling from that chain was a fat ring set with a blue stone.
Isadora smiled faintly. “Your mother told me that the eldest had the keeping of the ring.” She curtseyed to Trystan. Curtseyed!
Trystan removed the chain from around his neck and passed it to his brother. “Devlyn is the eldest. I’ve been holding on to this family heirloom so he wouldn’t gamble it away.”
Devlyn held on to the chain, but did not place it around his neck. The ring dangled and swung, catching the afternoon light. “This is damned odd,” he said without his usual easy smile. “Woman, do you care to explain yourself?”
Isadora curtseyed again, her attention on Devlyn this time. “Your brother has your father’s looks, but lamentably, you have his manner.” She looked up. “And his eyes.”
“Our father has been dead many years.”
“Yes, he has,” Isadora said. “He was a horrible man. I hated him in a way I have never hated anyone else. He was truly despicable.”
Trystan was shocked by her words, but Devlyn showed no emotion. “He was just a fisherman,” the eldest said.
“No.” Lyr’s mother shook her head fiercely. “Your father was no fisherman. He was…This is difficult enough without interruption. If you will be so kind as to allow me to finish, it will be done soon enough.”
Devlyn waved one hand. “Why not?”
“I despised your father,” Isadora continued, “but your mother loved him very much. I saw only the bad in him, but Liane saw more and in the end she was right. He died saving her and the two of you.”
“Liane?” Devlyn said. “You’ve made a mistake. Our mother’s name is Bethlyn.”
“Our father drowned when his boat went down in a storm,” Trystan explained.
Isadora sighed. “No! Dammit, this is too complicated. Full explanations and the questions you will no doubt have must wait for another time.” She turned her stern attention to the eldest. “Your name is not Devlyn. I was present when you were born. I saw you into this world, child.” Isadora took a deep breath, as if instilling herself with strength to continue. “You were tiny and wrinkled and you fought for your life. The name you were given at birth was Jahn, and you are the rightful emperor of Columbyana.”
LEVEL THIRTEEN. KEELIA SAID THAT WAS THE SAFEST place in which to dispose of the crystal dagger. Lyr had no idea what or where his cousin was talking about but his mother had reacted fiercely to those two words. Level Thirteen.
Keelia admitted that some of the elder cousins had long ago overheard mention of the terrible place which so frightened the Fyne sisters, but Isadora had protected her children from the knowledge that the pit existed.
It had been a long and momentous day. His mother and her sisters had found what they’d sought, but at a price. Liane was dead. In the midst of everything else that was happening, she’d had to tell the twins about how their mother had died.
General Merin was quite distressed at the news that Devlyn Arndell was heir to the throne, and he’d asked more than once if it wasn’t possible that the man he knew as Trystan Arndell was the eldest. Trystan, Merin was certain, would make a better emperor than his less responsible brother.
Lyr cared little for who ruled Columbyana. As soon as his duty was done, as soon as the crystal dagger was safe and the last of Ciro’s Own had been defeated, he could return home to Tryfyn.
With Rayne? A part of him screamed yes, but in truth he was less than certain. Nothing about their relationship could be called normal. With the danger behind them, would she even care to stay with him? She’d said that she loved him, but perhaps she would think herself in love with any man who’d saved her from a demon’s attentions. She was an Earth Goddess, after all, and surely she wanted more from life than warming his bed and giving him children.
Since the army had broken down their camp and taken to the road, with Arthes as their destination, Lyr had managed to avoid Rayne. He’d had long conversations with his mother, and he’d discussed battle plans with Merin. He and Keelia had discussed how best to dispose of the crystal dagger, once they reached Level Thirteen. When that was done, he’d gone to the head of the party and joined those who scouted ahead for trouble.
He did look back at Rayne on occasion. She rode with the Arndell brothers—the Beckyt brothers, more rightly—surrounded on all sides by sentinels whose only duty was to protect them from harm. The eldest, the one who was to be emperor, seemed almost amused by the turn of events. The other one did not seem at all amused. In any case, Rayne was safe. She was safer than she’d been in many years.
Riding far ahead of the others, his eyes peeled for trouble, Lyr was almost glad when two crazed swordsmen of Ciro’s Own appeared. At the moment he welcomed the quick and easy fight.
IT WAS DARK BUT THE MOON WAS FULL AND THE PATH was wide and clear, so they rode onward. Rayne frowned as hours passed and Lyr did not join her even for a moment. He seemed to be well occupied, but surely he could spare her a word, or a smile.
Devlyn—Emperor Jahn—rode beside her. He’d been quiet and unusually thoughtful for most of the day, but now and then he spoke to her. They had become friends in days past. She hadn’t had many friends in her life. She’d always been around servants who were kind to her, but until Lyr had come to rescue her, she hadn’t known a single true friend.
In trut
h, Lyr had not come to rescue her at all. He’d come for the crystal dagger, and she’d been there.
Of the few friends she’d made since then, Til and Swaine had lost their lives in an act of unspeakable betrayal, and Segyn had turned out not to be any man’s friend. That left Lyr, who was apparently avoiding her, and Devlyn, who was not actually Devlyn at all.
“Pretty girls should not look so glum,” the new emperor said as they moved steadily forward.
“I’m not glum,” she responded.
“Trust me, I am an expert on reading the expressions of beautiful women,” he said with a touch of humor. “Your thoughts at this moment are not happy ones, I’d guess. I’d also guess those thoughts have something to do with a much-too-serious swordsman who has laid claim to you.”
“Lyr has hardly laid claim to me,” Rayne said softly.
“So I was right.”
“Yes, you are right.” She straightened her spine. “I’m being silly. There’s much to be done in the waning days of war. Lyr will come to me when the time is right, when all is well and his duty is done—”
“For a man like Lyr, duty is never done,” Devlyn interrupted. “For those like your Prince of Swords, there’s always a fight, an injustice, a mission, a calling. Duty never dies, it just changes direction now and then.”
While she wanted to argue with her friend, she knew he was right. “Where does that leave me?” she asked, her brow knitting in a frown.
Devlyn, Emperor Jahn, sighed. “It leaves you waiting until he decides he has the time for you. It leaves you alone for weeks and months at a time, while he makes himself a hero. It leaves you forever wondering when he’ll come to you next, or if he’ll come at all.”
“But he loves me,” Rayne protested without heat.
“Has he told you so?” the emperor asked. “Has he vowed his undying love and asked you to be his wife?”
Rayne hesitated, pursing her lips and then blowing out a bit of air. “No, not yet.”
Devlyn rolled his eyes wildly. “Please tell me that you have not told the man that you love him.”
“But I do love Lyr,” Rayne said. “Of course I told him.”
“More than once?” He sounded almost horrified.
“Yes.”
Devlyn’s sigh was one of pure disgust. “You have given him a mighty advantage, in laying your heart on the line as you have. Of course, being a woman, you can always take back your words. Women often do contradict themselves, and no one questions that fact.”
“Why would I take the words back?” she asked. “I do love him.”
“Do you want a man who will fight for you, my pretty gardener?”
“Lyr has fought for me.”
Devlyn lifted his hand for emphasis. “No, he has fought for his destiny, he has fulfilled the prophesy, he has done what needed to be done in order to defeat an unimaginable threat to the world we live in. You, my pretty gardener, were no more than a pleasant reward for all his hard work.”
“That isn’t true!” she said, but her heart sank. She’d been the one to ask Lyr to lie with her. Hadn’t she all but begged? He’d never had need to pursue her. She’d been the one to declare her love, again and again. She had all but thrown herself at Lyr over and over, and as any man likely would have, he’d simply caught her. “I’m an idiot,” she said in a softer voice.
“No,” Devlyn insisted. “You are no idiot. Naive, perhaps, but not an idiot. If you are content to sit back and wait for Lyr to come to you when and where he pleases, then by all means continue on as you have. I’m sure your time together is quite pleasurable. But if you want more…” He stopped and said in a slightly raised voice. “I’m a bit parched.”
In moments a sentinel was there with a wineskin, which Devlyn took with a smile. “Being emperor is going to be excellent,” he said when the sentinel had moved away. He took a long swig.
“If I want more?” Rayne prompted.
“Oh yes, now where was I?”
“If I want more,” Rayne said again, her patience fading.
“Make him fight for you,” Devlyn said. “Only for you. No demon, no prophesy, just the gardener and the Prince of Swords.”
Her heart lurched. “I’m not sure I know how to make that happen.”
“I do, so never fear on that front.”
Rayne wondered if Lyr would fight for her, and that wondering made her realize that Devlyn was right. She had to know that she was more to Lyr than a pleasant convenience. Still…“What if he doesn’t fight for me?”
Devlyn shrugged and took another swig of wine. When he was done, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and said, “Then you haven’t lost much at all, have you?”
SINCE THE NIGHTS WERE COOL BUT NOT HORRIBLY SO, when they stopped to rest no tents were pitched. Everyone, even the new emperor and his brother, even Lyr’s mother, even Keelia and her man, even Rayne, slept beneath the stars. There were enough blankets to go around, two good fires, and plenty of food. The newly discovered heirs to the throne were well guarded throughout the night, but since they had run across only a handful of Ciro’s Own in the past two days, the guard was just a precaution.
The palace which was their destination, the palace where Lyr had defeated the demon and where Ariana and Sian waited, rose in the distant moonlight. They would reach the palace tomorrow midday at their current rate of travel. There was much to happen after they arrived. A new emperor would be introduced, and there was a demon-filled dagger to be hidden in Level Thirteen.
And when that was done, Lyr could return home to Tryfyn.
He assumed that Rayne would come with him when that time came. She had no other place to go, after all. He couldn’t imagine that she’d want to return to her father’s house, and she had no family to turn to. He couldn’t imagine deserting her. No, she was his responsibility as much as the dagger he carried with him.
It was true that his bride had been all but chosen for him, but if he returned to the Circle of Bacwyr with an Earth Goddess, surely he would be forgiven for not pursuing those plans.
He could not approach Rayne in the night, as she slept close to Keelia and Isadora and the well-guarded heirs. She had become friendly with both of the brothers, most particularly the one who was to be emperor. He should be glad that she was not alone while he did what had to be done, but something that could only be called jealousy tried to rise up within him. He stamped it back down. Rayne was entirely his, and he had no reason to be jealous.
When he rested in the night, it was near the edge of camp, where he could keep watch. If any danger approached, he could stop time and deal with the problem. It was unlikely that any who were left of Ciro’s Own would approach such a large party, but it was not an impossibility.
All was quiet in the camp and beyond. All was well with the world once again.
There would be time to deal with the details of what was to come once he’d disposed of the dagger, and his mind wandered to those details. He would be returning to the Circle without those soldiers who had been closest to him. How would he explain away Segyn’s betrayal? They had all been fooled. Even his mother had been shocked by the news that Lyr’s second in command had been in league with the demon.
When the time came, perhaps it would be best to paint Segyn as yet another victim of the war with the Isen Demon, though Lyr suspected his most trusted warrior had been fooling him and many others for a long time before the demon had risen.
It was disheartening to know he could be fooled so easily and completely. Was nothing and no one ever as they appeared to be?
When Lyr slept in the early morning hours, he dreamt of Segyn and poisonous berries and traitorous swords, and then the dream turned more peaceful and Rayne was there. Naked, laughing, then turning away.
There were moments when he thought that he loved Rayne in a way he had never thought to love a woman, but did he know her at all?
There would be time to get to know her now that the war was done. There would be all the time in th
e world to make sure that they would be as compatible in a time of peace as they were in a time of conflict.
At sunrise the army moved toward the palace ahead. Lyr looked back only once to find Rayne in deep conversation with Devlyn Arndell…Emperor Jahn. There was that surge of jealousy again, though he knew he had no need to be jealous.
Lyr wasn’t sure he cared much for the rightful heir. Like Merin, he suspected the more serious younger brother would’ve made a better ruler.
18
SINCE UNTIL A FEW WEEKS AGO SHE’D LIVED IN AN ISOlated house far from the rest of the world, Rayne was understandably awed by her first up-close glimpse of Arthes. Stone buildings of all sizes were crowded together, the streets which crossed this way and that swarmed with people who all seemed to be moving about with some purpose. In the center of it all the imperial palace rose ten stories into the sky.
The palace was an amazing construction. Balconies jutted out from the stone edifice here and there, and there were many, many windows which looked out over the city. The building itself spoke of power, and she could not imagine all that had taken place here, and would take place in years to come.
As they neared the palace, winding through the city streets, Lyr’s mother shifted her horse in and out of the traveling party until she was near Rayne. Her presence, so close, made Rayne nervous. Isadora Hern was a commanding woman, a stern presence, a powerful witch…and most imposing of all, she was Lyr’s mother. What had Lyr said to his mother about her? Which would be worse, the entire truth or nothing at all?
At first Rayne thought that perhaps the woman intended to speak to her about Lyr, to warn her away from her son, but then she decided it was more likely that Isadora Hern wanted to speak to the new emperor and his brother. Perhaps she was moving this way to apologize to them for speaking so harshly about their father.
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