“Jess,” a voice called, and she halted, waiting for Tanvir to catch up. His face was set in determined lines, and she noticed that he had also changed out of his finery and into more practical garments.
“Tanvir,” she said, by way of acknowledgment. She knew he must be as worried about his brother as she was, but she was annoyed at his delaying her.
“You’re riding out on patrol, aren’t you? I want to go with you,” he said without preamble.
She didn’t know why she hadn’t anticipated the request. Though Tanvir was eighteen to Dev’s twenty-two, he already possessed an impressive set of skills, and he was better with a sword than Dev was. Tanvir was the scholar of the family but he was also a warrior, while Dev was more adept at directing the theater of battle.
Studying Tanvir’s handsome face, Jess saw the intensity burning in his eyes. Doubtless there would be whispers about him, speculation that maybe he had decided he was better suited to the throne than his brother. Indeed, some Estorians believed this to be true. Dev was not comfortable with the idea of being king. His propensity for jokes hid a deep insecurity, and though Jess knew he understood the importance of his responsibilities, there were those who thought him little more than a frivolous, fun-loving prince who had no real head for statecraft.
Tanvir, on the other hand, had been serious practically since the moment of his birth. Jess didn’t think she’d ever seen him without a book in his hand. No one knew royal protocol like Tanvir, and he had a gift for tact that his brother most decidedly lacked. This coupled with his prowess on the battlefield and his tall, broad, classically handsome frame made him seem every inch the king.
Yet Jess knew Tanvir was not involved, knew it in the marrow of her bones. Tanvir and Dev were close, even if each exasperated the other at times, and Jess’s trust for Tanvir was almost as deep as her trust for Dev.
“You know I’m confident in your abilities, but your parents have already lost Dev today, and—”
“Oh, and your parents don’t have a care for their only daughter and heir?”
The protest had really been a matter of form more than anything, and Jess dropped all pretense. “Are you ready to leave?”
“I am.”
“Let’s stop and examine the dead invader first.” He nodded and she set off, Tanvir matching the length of her strides.
Two guards were posted in the corridor leading to Dev’s chamber, and they stepped aside to allow Tanvir and Jess to pass. Medhan was squatting next to the dead assailant, examining him with care.
“Anything?” Jess asked, knowing that if there were anything to find, Medhan would find it. Tanvir crouched down on the opposite side of the body, peering at the assailant’s hands.
“I’m afraid not. Whoever took Prince Devaran was careful with their preparations.”
Jess closed her eyes. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear but it wasn’t unexpected either. Kneeling on the floor, Jess gave the body a perfunctory glance, but the sensation of time slipping away made her palms itch. “If you do find anything, inform me at once.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
Rising, Jess glanced at Tanvir, but he didn’t question either her or Medhan. She could tell from the tension in his face that he too was anxious to ride out and begin the search.
Twenty of Jess’s best troops stood at attention outside the stables, waiting for orders. Jess selected eight to go with her and Tanvir and dispatched the rest in three groups. Her group would head south while the others spread out to the north, east, and west.
Spurring her horse into a gallop, Jess made for the gates, Tanvir and her troops hot on her heels. They rode for several hours, stopping at checkpoints and seeking out patrols, but no one had any news. Jess wasn’t sure whether to be frustrated or relieved. If whoever abducted Dev intended to take him into Moritan, departing from a southern port would be the most direct route. Still, it wasn’t the only route. It was unlikely the abductors would chance the mountains to the north. All of the major passes would be guarded, and trying to forge another path would be treacherous at best. They could head east and attempt to depart from Estoria, but that would expose them to extreme danger, as there was a high likelihood that someone would recognize the kidnapped prince. Still, this didn’t narrow their choices much, as there were still the western ports to consider. Sailing from one of them would mean a longer voyage, but there were plenty of ships that ran trade routes between western Lyrane and Moritan.
Unable to put it off any longer, Jess called for a break to rest the exhausted horses. Dropping to the ground next to a small stream, she shredded blades of grass as her mind worked. She had thought riding out would make her feel better but it didn’t. Her sense of impotence was keener than ever.
“Why did they take him? Could they be after ransom?” Jess asked Tanvir, who had been sitting next to her, apparently lost in his own thoughts.
“I doubt it,” he said. “It seems more likely they took him as bait, either for you or for me, though I suspect it was you they intended to lure into going after them.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because a marriage between you and Dev means the union of two of the Realms, something that hasn’t happened in over a thousand years. Perhaps someone fears your combined might.”
Frowning, Jess thought about what he had said. It did make sense. “If that is the case, and we continue to pursue—”
“We’re probably walking right into a trap,” Tanvir interjected.
Jess liked this thought even less. “What are we to do?”
“If we can’t stop the abductors before they take Dev from Lyrane, then we will have two tasks: we’ll need to determine who is behind his abduction, and we’ll have to form an alliance with the other Realms so we can attack in strength.”
“Form an alliance with the other Realms?” Jess asked, her disbelief plain.
Tanvir’s smile was grim. “I did not say it would be easy.”
Chapter 7
Dev drifted, his body racked with illness. The unyielding stone floor tormented him, causing his back to feel as if it would break. He had developed a deep, booming cough that sent stabbing pains through his ribs and back, making his head throb. The dampness of the cave seeped into his lungs, and it felt like his rock prison was crushing his chest each time he took a breath.
Ellaria kept him drugged for the most part, and the combination of his sickness and the lethargy caused by the drug made it difficult for Dev to put together a coherent thought. He’d wanted to leave clues for Jess, but it was so hard to maintain consciousness.
Even so, he did his best, defying his own sense of utter hopelessness. When he could control his weak limbs, he scratched symbols in the dirt on the cave floor. Once, he was able to snag a smoldering stick from the fire and, late at night, he managed to roll onto his side and scratch a charcoal message low on the wall. The firelight was dim, it was difficult to keep his eyes open, and his vision swam, so he wasn’t certain the message made any sense. He feared his efforts were futile, but he was desperate to delude himself into thinking he had some control over his own situation.
When his captors thought he was sleeping, he studied the cave entrance as closely as possible with the fragile shards of his concentration. His mind never ceased to work, trying to devise some scheme to get him close to the entrance, but he could think of nothing. Though Ellaria had few guards, they were clever—or, at least, their mistress was. She kept Dev near the back of the cave while she and her guards slept clustered around the entrance, and two guards kept watch at all times. The guards’ bodies blocked Dev’s view of the opening, but he was able to catch glimpses of the thick cluster of greenery that concealed their presence. No matter how hard he strained, he could hear only forest sounds, never a cart or a horse, which told him they must be some distance from the nearest road.
Ellaria had chosen her hole well. It seemed they were far too well concealed for any hope of discovery, and Dev thought bitterly that
the chances of someone stumbling upon them were not very high. Nothing had gone well for him thus far, and he had begun to think that nothing ever would.
He knew he should fight it, but sleep was so appealing. Sweat coated every inch of his body, telling him he was feverish, but he didn’t care. The fever dreams were far more vivid than regular dreams, and he could close his eyes and, for a while, be transported elsewhere. He could be with Jess wherever and whenever he desired, and he was losing the will to fight against the pull of his memories.
Two years after his ill-fated leap from the tree, Dev still suffered the occasional headache. The object of his downfall no longer existed; his mother had seen to it that the tree was chopped down for firewood shortly after Dev’s folly. He thought it a bit excessive and tried to protest, but a single look from her had silenced him on the subject forevermore. The piercing fear he’d seen in her eyes at any mention of the tree had disarmed him. If cutting it down soothed her fears about losing her son, who was he to object?
He was suffering from one of his headaches on the day he and his father were to depart for Lyrane. Though his head felt like it was made of lead, and though the light seemed to stab straight through his eyes and into his brain, he insisted he was well enough to go.
“You can hardly stand!” his mother cried as he staggered around his chambers gathering the last of his things.
“I’m fine,” he muttered. Opening his mouth made him feel as though he might vomit, so he resolved to keep it closed.
“Adar, tell him he cannot go,” she said, turning her appeal to her husband. The pleading in her voice pricked Dev’s heart but he did his best to harden it.
“Nishana, he is fourteen, almost a man, and I cannot treat him like a boy. If he says he is well enough to go, then he is well enough to go,” Adar responded, a note of finality to his voice.
“Darkness take you both!” Nishana said, blinking back tears. Dev felt terrible that his going was causing her such grief, but he needed to get away. Ever since his fall, she had hovered over him, fretting about his every ache and pain. He knew she did it out of love, but it was driving him mad.
Still, as exasperated as he was with her, he couldn’t witness her pain without it causing pain of his own. He didn’t think he’d ever before fully appreciated how deep his mother’s love for him was. If there was one good thing to have come from his act of stupidity, it was that.
Though a wave of nausea surged through him, he forced himself to speak, hoping to reassure her. “I’ll be fine, I promise.” He walked back over to her and took her hands in his, pressing them.
She wasn’t fooled. Looking up into his eyes with an accusatory gaze, she said, “You’re not fine.”
Dev sighed and turned his head away, searching for the words that might make her relent. Swallowing in an attempt to rid his mouth of its sour taste, he tried again. “No, I’m not, not right now. But I will be. It’s a passing illness, Mother, you know that. Aren’t you the one always reminding me of duty? Well, I am trying to do my duty now. As Father said, I’m almost a man. My presence on these trips is no longer just a lark but a matter of courtesy to an ally.”
“He’s right,” Adar agreed. “A king does not always have the luxury of resting in a sickbed when he feels unwell.”
Nishana glared at her son. “Curse you. Leave it to you to take my own words and use them against me.” But she spoke with no real rancor, and her face fell in resignation. She gave Dev’s hands a weak squeeze. “Go, then.”
Stalking over to her husband with blazing eyes, she thrust her finger in his face. “If anything happens to him, I will blame you.” With that, she turned on her heel and stalked from the chamber.
Adar winced. “Do promise you’ll tell me if you need to stop to rest. I no more enjoy facing your mother’s wrath than you do.”
Giving his father a weak smile, Dev nodded. “I promise. And thank you, Father.”
“You may not be seeing to your duty for the right reasons but you are seeing to your duty,” Adar replied, giving Dev a knowing smile. Abashed, Dev dropped his gaze. “We leave in fifteen minutes.”
Nodding, Dev resumed packing, and his father left. With a sigh, Dev closed his eyes and massaged his temples with his fingertips. His physician had devised a remedy but the concoction often left Dev woozy, and he took it only when his need was desperate. Now seemed like one of those times, but he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to sit a horse if he took it, so he slipped the vials into his saddlebag with a groan of regret.
The journey was an unpleasant one and, by the time they reached Mashala Palace, Dev had had all he could take. He thought he murmured a few words of courtesy at Jess and her family but he couldn’t say. His focus was devoted to making it up to his chamber without collapsing and, once there, he muttered a command at the servants to darken his chamber, dropped onto the bed, and promptly fell senseless.
A light tap at his door roused him sometime later. Opening his eyes with care, Dev found that the pain in his head had receded to a dull ache, and he was able to tolerate what dim light permeated his chamber.
“Come in,” he called out, his voice little more than a croak.
The door opened, and a familiar face appeared around it. Jess gave him a dubious look, as if afraid he might vomit all over her if she were to come closer. “You sure you’re up to a visitor?” she asked.
“No, but when has that ever stopped you?”
Pulling a face, she stepped around the door and walked into his chamber. She had a cloth and a bowl in her hands, and she set them down on a small table next to his bed, dipping the cloth into the bowl and wringing it out.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Just some cool lavender water,” she said, shaking a few drops off the cloth. “It helps me, whenever my head aches.”
The scent drifted to his nose, and he let his eyes close again. “Thanks. I hadn’t thought to try that. My physician gave me a tincture, but I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”
“He’s probably trying to poison you,” Jess said in a genial voice. He laughed in spite of himself, then winced when it made the pain in his head flare.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you laugh,” Jess said, sounding contrite.
“It’s all right. I needed a laugh.”
“Lie still.”
He did as she commanded and felt a slight compression of his feather bed as she perched on the edge of it. With gentle fingers, she spread the cloth over his eyes, blocking the light. The coolness was welcome against his flushed skin, and the scent of the lavender made his head feel clearer.
“Thank you. That does feel good,” he murmured.
“And there’s no bitter aftertaste,” she replied, her voice quiet.
“It’s kind of you to do this. I can’t imagine it’s too much fun to play my nursemaid.”
“More fun than listening to trade negotiations.”
He smiled. “You’re at a loss, aren’t you? You need a sparing partner and, since I’m laid up…”
She gave a most unladylike snort. “Don’t flatter yourself. I think the stableboys are more skilled at swordplay than you are, if my memory serves me.”
“Aiming your dagger straight for my heart, are you?”
“No, just your pride.”
He laughed again, and this time it didn’t hurt nearly as much. “Thank you, Jess. You’re such a friend.”
“I am, aren’t I?” she responded, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “I have something for you.”
“You do?” he asked, pushing the cloth away from one of his eyes. Just as he’d suspected, she was smiling down at him, and it was a little disconcerting. In the two years since he’d last seen her, her features had begun to lose their childish roundness. It made him more aware than ever of how close to being a man he was, of how much his duty had begun weighing on him.
“I do,” she said, giving him a mischievous grin. “Can you bear the light of a candle?”
&n
bsp; “I think so.” He pushed himself upright, swabbing his forehead with the cloth before handing it to her. She set it aside.
“Cover your eyes,” she cautioned. She lit a candle, and he moved his hand away from his eyes with care, testing his tolerance for the light, relieved to find that the pain was far less than it had been.
“What is it?” he asked her.
She smiled again and pulled a small, silk-wrapped parcel from the pocket of her leathers. Taking it from her, he unwrapped it with care. Whatever it was, it was small, and he didn’t want to lose it. Setting the silk aside, he studied the slender platinum band in his palm, giving her a quizzical look.
“I thought you might appreciate the reminder,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Take a closer look at it, then.”
Lifting the ring with his thumb and forefinger, he held it closer to his eyes and saw that it bore a delicate motif of birds in flight. The work was masterful, a stunning example of the craftsmanship of the Lyranian platinum smiths. There was something inside the band, and he leaned closer to the candle so that he could read the words inscribed within.
“’Look before you leap’,” he read. He stared at it for a moment and then burst into laughter. “So the one who urged me to leap is now urging me to look first?”
Grinning, Jess shrugged. “I’m older and wiser now.”
“Older, yes. Wiser? That’s doubtful.”
“This is the thanks I get for helping to ease your headache, and for bringing you a gift?”
“You’re right. Where are my manners? I thank you, my lady Jessmyn, for this most thoughtful of gifts,” he said in a formal voice. He took her hand in his and gave it a delicate kiss.
“Your mother would be proud,” she said with a nod of approval, her eyes dancing. “Now, are you coming down to dinner? I’ll never forgive you if you force me to sit through another dull meal without you.”
His stomach growled and they both laughed. “I do believe that’s a yes.”
[Fairytale 02] - Asleep (2013) Page 4