She took a breath and continued her tale.“One day, I professed my love to her in the only way I knew how. I forced myself upon her. She did not fight me, nor did she reciprocate. I took her silence as acceptance and suggested we run away together. That way she would not have to be one of Verdaine’s postulants. Instead of declaring her love in return, she told the high priestess what I had done. I was stripped of my initiate honor and cast out as sheanna.”Kaleigh touched her blonde curls and sighed.“I vowed to never love again. In fact, I spent many seasons finding as many men and women as I could and tainting myself with them. I figured if I were forbidden from ever returning to my homeland, I might as well earn my sheanna.”A spiteful chuckle escaped her lips.“I nearly died trying to prove they were right to shun me.”
Emotion choked his words and he cleared his throat, keeping his hands firmly in his lap, not trusting himself to offer her comfort. He wanted to touch her too much. To ease the sorrow from her eyes. In them, he saw himself. Saw his own shame.
“How is it you came to be a prisoner here?”
“I told you, I am no prisoner. Amdi saved me. He found me in the foulest brothel of Paderau and brought me to the desert. He once told me he did not want to go to the brothel that night, but his brother forced him. His brother was a nasty man, vulgar and crass—he used women for pleasure, priding himself on how many he could bed in one night. It was dumb luck Amdi found me first. If Deshan had been the first in my room, I am certain I would be as dead as he is.”
Something in her tone gave Rhoane pause.“Did you kill him?”
Kaleigh cocked her head and grinned.“Gutted him like the pig he was. He raped and tortured not just women, but young boys as well. He thought it his right, since he was laird. No one has the right to take another by force.”Tears slid down her cheek to drip from her chin.“It took me too many seasons to realize that was what I had done to the girl I thought I loved. I had forced myself on her. It was not right, and I paid for my crime.”
“You must have lived out your sheanna. Certainly you can return to the vier?”
“I am sure I could, but Amdi—”Emotion clung to her tone, deepening its resonance.“He loves me, and I am utterly devoted to him.”
There was much Rhoane needed to learn, not just about the world, but about himself, it seemed. He had never heard of a sheanna Eleri choosing to stay away from the vier. Nor had he known being in the presence of a woman would affect him to the point of distraction. He tried to hide his desire, but his glances kept returning to Kaleigh’s shapely form. He’d been too protected at the Weirren. Shielded too much from what he would encounter outside the borders of the Narthvier. He was woefully unprepared in all things.
Kaleigh studied him as he waged war within his thoughts. When their eyes met, she nodded as if she’d been eavesdropping.“What made you sheanna?”
Rhoane suppressed a chuckle. He’d been impertinent to ask her, certainly he owed her the same respect she’d shown by discussing her exile. He sensed in Kaleigh an ally and hoped he wasn’t wrong.
“Verdaine.”He retrieved the scroll from a hidden pocket of his saddlebags, relief coursing through him it had not been confiscated as well.“She believes I will restore balance to Aelinae by finding theDarennsai.”He handed the scroll to his clanswoman.“Carga copied the prophecy for me to study. If you would like to read it, I could use your help.”
Kaleigh took the scroll from him and scanned the pages. Her eyes grew even larger against her tanned skin. Her breasts rose and fell in quick succession. Rhoane all but heard the tripping of her heart as she paused every so often to fully read a section. When at last she looked up, tears shimmered in her arctic orbs.
“If this is true, then we have much work to do, my prince.”She bent to one knee, kissed her thumb before she placed it first to her forehead, then to her heart.“I am beholden to Amdi in all things. I must tell him of this.” She paced the space of his tent, a hand to her forehead; the other clutched the scroll.
“What help can your laird be to us?” Rhoane began, but Kaleigh hushed him.
“Amdi means for you to die in the arena. He distrusts the Eleri, sometimes even me.”She glanced over her shoulder toward the tent opening.“You will be watched, always. He only let me tend to your wounds because he believes my skill is less than that of his healers.”She placed a warning hand on his forearm.“You must never look at me like you have in this tent. You must learn to hide your emotions, especially from yourself. If this prophecy is true, you must meet your chosen one pure. Any dalliance will destroy the bond between the two of you.”
Kaleigh talked so fast Rhoane could hardly keep up, but one thing he understood too well.“I know my oath. I will honor it.”
“Rhoane, you are a man. There are certain things you have been sheltered from for far too long. Women, among them. You will be tempted many times, but you must not give in to carnal desires. Train your mind as you must train your body. Learn to fight with not just a sword, but your hands, a stick, whatever weapon you can find. Above all else, you can never lose in the arena.”
A guard entered the tent and motioned to Kaleigh.“My lady, you have been overlong here. Any longer, and there will be questions.”
“I understand.”Kaleigh turned to Rhoane, her eyes beseeching.“Do not do anything foolish. Eat. Sleep. Conserve your strength. Amdi will test you in all things. Me, for one. If you so much as look at me with want, we will both be executed. However, if you can defeat his traps, you will ride away from Ulla stronger for the experience. Trust me.”
“Why are you helping me?” He kept his voice low, barely audible.
“Because,”mirth marked her words,“the gods know someone has to. You are too hotheaded for your own good. If not for me, you would be dead by the morning and that is a travesty none of us can afford. I just need to convince Amdi of this.”
After she replaced her headdress, she left in a swirl of dark fabric. The guard glared at Rhoane for several moments until he, too, exited the tent. Kaleigh had taken the scroll with her, and for one mad moment Rhoane started to dash after her, but he halted mid-stride. Let her study the scroll. It might be what would keep him alive one more day.
He eased onto the cot, wincing with every bruise and cut that touched the rough fabric. He stared at the ceiling, cursing himself. His first decision outside the vier might have cost him his life. If he died, what would happen to the Darennsai?
The image of a woman, hair like a cloud on a bright Frost End day, eyes as blue as the deep sea, sprang to his mind. The Darennsai. He was certain of it. But where? Was this in the present, or future? He clung to the image like a frightened child to his mother’s hand, not wanting to let go. Afraid of losing the connection. A soft fluttering started in his heart. Something akin to panic blossomed in his chest to spread across his body.
The woman’s smile lit up her face and his anxiety lessened.
“Who are you?”
“I am your beloved, Rhoane.”Behind her, ghost-like, flared a pair of darathi vorsi wings. Silver scales caught the moonlight and she lifted her face to the stars.“Wait for me, my darling. Mi carae.” Then she was gone.
Rhoane rubbed his temples, doubting his own sanity. One thing he knew for certain—real or imagined, this woman would keep him fighting. For her. For Aelinae. He would wait a thousand lifetimes to hear her laughter.
Chapter 5
FOR near on eight moonturns, Rhoane faced a new opponent in the arena four times a week. Each one more violent than the last. Each one out for his blood. On the nights he wasn’t dragged to the fighting ring, he was challenged in other ways. Kaleigh hadn’t been wrong when she’d said Amdi would try to break his spirit.
Each night at sundown, a lovely young woman would bring Rhoane his meal. Dressed in little more than a thin scarf, she would entice him to enjoy his dinner and stay until he finished eating. Then, the real training began. Each nubile young thing tried various ways to provoke Rhoane’s desire. Some would lay their hands upon h
im; others used dance to seduce him. After the first few visits, where Rhoane would cling to the image of the woman with hair of silken stars, he learned how to remove himself from the situation. If not bodily, then in mind and function. He became little more than a lifeless figure laying on his cot.
The girls could coo or cuddle all they liked, but he refused to respond. Their attempts to lengthen his manhood failed. Each night they entered his tent and left defeated, disappointed, and, perhaps, disgraced. He didn’t care. As long as Amdi tested him, Rhoane vowed to best the laird.
Each night after he battled, Kaleigh would bring his meal and tend to his wounds. He kept his interactions with her polite. Since the first night, when she’d taken the scroll, she’d not mentioned the prophecy again. Rhoane broached the subject twice, getting a stern shake of her head in reply. He knew the guards stationed just outside his door listened to their conversations, and dropped the subject immediately.
It wasn’t until the ninth cycle of the moon that Rhoane understood Kaleigh’s reticence.
Amdi allowed him few liberties in the camp, but on this day Rhoane was not only given access to roam freely, he was told specifically to visit the healer’s tent. Intrigued, Rhoane followed the guard to a vibrantly painted tent. Its three highest points were adorned with black pennants. Embroidered on the flags was a symbol: two wavy lines bisected by another two lines. He opened the tent flap and stepped into the darkened area. In the first room, several men and women waited on cushions. Some drank from tin cups, others rocked steadily back and forth, clutching their arms.
“What is this?” Rhoane asked the guard, but he put a finger to his lips and indicated a smaller room to their right. Through a slight opening of fabric, Rhoane saw figures moving inside. He opened his mouth to speak, but again the guard shushed him. Instead of asking permission, he tugged aside the flap and entered.
What he saw in the room horrified and mystified him. On a raised table covered with crimson velvet lay a naked woman. To her right, a man, his naked body a gleaming specimen of perfection, guided his manhood into the woman’s mouth. She moaned with the effort, and the man’s head rolled back. Rhoane looked quickly from him to see Kaleigh positioned between the woman’s legs, pleasuring her.
He reeled back, drawing Kaleigh’s attention.
Upon seeing him, Kaleigh’s eyes narrowed, and a deep scowl creased her forehead. She pushed away from the table and spoke to the couple rapidly in Ullan, most of which Rhoane missed, but her anger came through.
The guard chuckled a guttural laugh and left Rhoane standing in the doorway, dumbstruck and confused.
Kaleigh rose, wiping her mouth on her sleeve, and Rhoane’s insides churned.“You should not be here.”
“The guard said Amdi wished to show me something.”He pointed at the other two.“I can only assume it is this. You making love to another couple.” Hostility dripped from every syllable.
Kaleigh regarded him for a moment. Myriad emotions crossed her features. When she spoke, it was in a tempered tone, as if she, too, held her annoyance in check.
“I am not making love, Rhoane. This is how the Ullans heal. The release of energy helps restore health and speed the recovery of wounds.”She led him away from the tents and turned to face him. Anger sizzled beneath her words.“Amdi believes you should visithere after each battle. He does not understand why you must be tended by me, even though I do not touch you. He read the scroll and, I believe, secretly worries I am thisDarennsaithe prophecy speaks of.”
“But you are not,” Rhoane said, his voice flat.
“I know this, and you know this, but Amdi does not. He is jealous. With each win, you gain favor in his court. He wished you to see me healing another so you know I am impure.”
At that moment, the laird approached with six of his personal guard close behind.“What are you doing out here, my dove? Are you finished healing my sister?”
Rhoane stifled his surprise.
“Not yet. Your intrusion into my work delayed the healing.”Kaleigh glared at her lover.“I was making good progress until he showed up.”She jerked her thumb toward Rhoane.“Now, I will have to begin anew. Much time has been wasted. If you would like to play games, my laird, please keep the welfare of your people, including your sister, out of them.” She turned on her heel and left them gaping after her.
“She has spirit, that woman,”Amdi said with pride.“You, as well.”He faced Rhoane, who towered over the laird by the span of a man’s hand.“I may have misjudged you, First Son.”
“I am not like Kaleigh, my lord. I will not heal your people in those tents, nor will I submit to the seductions of the women you thrust at me. I will fight in your arena as long as you see fit to challenge me, but I will not yield. I was born for a higher purpose than to be your plaything, and the sooner you realize this, the better for everyone.”The stirrings of his ShantiMari warmed Rhoane’s blood. He’d not let himself use his power since he left the vier. The image of his mother engulfed in flames had been enough to pacify him, but now, he embraced the darkness that swirled within.
“My laird,”one of the guards said, warning Amdi of Rhoane’s growing need to release his fury,“he calls on the elements.”
“You dare call forth your power before me, boy?”Flames lit upon Amdi’s palms, and for a brief moment, Rhoane hesitated.
A fight in the arena was one thing, but a ShantiMari battle against the armed Ullan could be suicide. Yet if he backed down now, he suspected Amdi would never let him leave.
“I do. For nine moonturns, you have deprived me of freedom. You have abused my trust, my faith, and my position. I have allowed this. Not because I respect you, but because I hated myself. In those long days of solitude, I found something in me I never expected—hope.”Rhoane released his power in a rush.“There is a reason I chose Ulla when I first left the vier. At the time, I did not see the purpose, only my own misery. But you have taught me to be a warrior of the mind and body. Let me be a part of your tribe, so that we might be allies, not enemies.”
Amdi considered him with cold, calculating eyes. Children ran past, shrieking in excitement after some game they’d been playing. The bleating of sheep drifted over the tents. A lifetime passed in the few moments it took Amdi to make his decision. When his dark eyes softened, Rhoane breathed out a heavy sigh.
“You will fight once more in the arena,”Amdi said.“If you win, you may live among us without restrictions.”
Ferran’s bells, the man was exhausting. Still he abused Rhoane’s patience.“I can leave whenever I choose?”
“With the pick of our finest stallions.”Amdi’s wry smile cracked the tight skin of his burnished face.
“And I can see Kaleigh as often as necessary?”
Amdi’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.
“She is not myDarennsai, Your Majesty. I will not endanger the prophecy by bedding your woman.”
“If you survive tonight,”the chief said,“you will earn your freedom as my guest, and not a subject.”
Rhoane touched his thumb to his heart and gave a heartfelt thanks to the man. He didn’t like the ominous edge to Amdi’s tone and suspected the night’s fight would be far more brutal than he’d experienced thus far, but the promise of freedom was too rich to pass up.
A QUARTER bell into the fight, Rhoane was seriously thinking death would’ve been an easier option. His opponent, a titan the likes of which Rhoane suspected had given more than one man nightmares, had entered the arena with all the swagger and confidence of a man who’d already won. He turned slowly in a broad circle, waving to the crowd, enticing them to cheers that rent the evening sky. Rhoane stared dumbly at the man, certain Amdi had planned this from the moment Rhoane arrived at the encampment.
And Rhoane had played right into his deception. Accepted the challenge blindly, without any terms or conditions for the fight. He’d been a fool, and now he was going to die a horrible, painful, inglorious death.
The beast of a man roared, and fresh che
ers pierced Rhoane’s sensitive hearing. His left eye bled from a vicious punch the man had given him, and his lip was split. His head rang from the blow, and his vision blurred.
Rhoane, Verdaine whispered in his mind,you can best him. You are young and agile. You are Eleri.
He drew strength from the fact his goddess had not abandoned him. All those days without anyone for company, and nights spent in battle either with an opponent or one of Amdi’s women, had him doubting his sanity and believing the Eleri had forsaken him.
You will one day lead us to a new age, my Surtentse. I will never leave you.
Rhoane steadied himself and eyed his challenger with the cunning of a grierbas stalking his prey. The man was enormous. His arm span was the width of Rhoane’s height, his bicep easily as large as one of Rhoane’s legs. But what the man had in brute strength, he lacked in speed and dexterity.
The oaf grinned stupidly, thinking Rhoane weak. He pretended to stagger, all the while surveying his opponent. Around his waist, a thick band of leather held a swath of cloth that covered the man’s buttocks and manhood. Other than that, he was naked. Weapons adorned the leather belt, including a mace and several small daggers. Rhoane had not been granted the use of weapons, despite the fact he’d won many over the course of his fights in the arena.
The sand danced in a frenzy with each foot the man placed upon the ground. With every step his bulk shifted from one leg to another, and Rhoane studied each ripple of muscle as he moved. The crowd roared their approval of the imminent attack, chanting the man’s name.“Kragor! Kragor! Kragor!”
Kragor sneered, his smugness fueling Rhoane’s ire.
When he was two paces away, Rhoane acted, springing from his stupor to dash toward Kragor. The stunned expression on the man’s face would have to be savored another time. Rhoane had mere moments before Kragor would grasp him around the neck and shake the life from him.
As the brute paused, Rhoane used the man’s bent leg as a step, grabbed a dagger from his belt,and vaulted up Kragor’s body. The brute resumed his step and slammed his foot hard upon the sand, jostling Rhoane’s tentative grip on his shoulder. Rhoane almost slipped, but managed to pull himself over the giant. Kragor flailed his hands, trying to reach Rhoane, who used his legs like a vise and clung to the man’s back.
The Darathi Vorsi Prince (Song of the Swords Book 0) Page 4