Caerwyn spun toward the sound, shifting to put his body between the sisters and the intruder.
The Hounds growled, straining between their duty to guard the prisoner and their duty to protect Caerwyn. He waved them off, keeping his focus on the three strangers standing in the clearing.
The two larger men, dressed in leather fighting gear and taking defensive, alert positions behind the third, were obviously bodyguards of some sort. The smaller man stood relaxed and amused, his garments even finer than Beste's. This man, though, exuded power that the clothes merely enhanced, whereas the Magistrate had used the frippery to try to impress and push his self-importance at others.
"Who are you?"
"Daen. Prince of Galwei." That explained the guards, anyway. But not what he was doing here. Now. They weren't far from the capital, but this village was hardly the kind of place for a late night stroll.
"What brings you to these woods, at this time of night?" Crossing his arms, Caer forced his shoulders to relax.
The casual smirk slipped and the prince's eyes hardened. For a moment, Caer wasn't sure the man would answer.
Then Daen pushed out an angry breath, and, like Caer, forced the most obvious tension out of his muscles to feign a relaxed attitude.
"The local Baron is… He has difficulty with confrontation."
Caerwyn nodded in acknowledgment. It hadn't taken him long to figure out the local nobility, who should have been a failsafe against Beste's corruption, was little more than a coward. He spent his entire life with his head in the sands so he didn't have to do anything about men like the Magistrate.
"He, apparently, has been turning a deaf ear to the rumors for years, but even he couldn't ignore the gossip about what Beste was doing with--" Daen faltered and glanced at the three girls, still huddled together in wide-eyed confusion and awe at the appearance of their prince.
Daen sighed. "He didn't feel competent in dealing with it, however, and called to the capital for help."
"And the prince himself answers the call?"
The knowing smile returned, but Caerwyn smelled the tension ramp up in the clearing. The Hounds responded as well, shifting uneasily behind him.
"I felt the need to stretch my legs. And, as Magistrate, Beste dispenses justice in my name. I take that kind of thing personally."
The scent of deception was wrapped in truth, but Caer shrugged it off. Whatever Daen's agenda was, his part in the local drama was done.
"Of course." Caer jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "You want us to take care of him, or do you have plans for him?"
"Well, I had planned to force him to stand for justice in my court, but it seems unnecessary considering his current condition." Daen nodded to one of the guards. "Take him back to the village gaol and release the girls' father. We'll send Beste to the capitol and find someplace for him to live out his punishments."
The two bodyguards moved forward, taking control of the prisoner, casting nervous glances at Hounds. Madd and his brothers remained still and silent, hot eyes tracking every move with watchful diligence.
"Would you care to join me in accepting the Baronet's hospitality?"
Caerwyn narrowed his eyes and assessed the prince. The offer appeared spontaneous and casual, but there was something tight in his voice. Curious, he shrugged with a nonchalant ripple of shoulders.
"I don't have anything planned for tonight." He glanced toward the three young women.
"Maddyn, would you and your brothers escort the girls back home to wait for their father to return."
All three immediately got to their feet, making the clearing seem smaller by their sheer bulk. Brunhil cast a hesitant glance at the dogs, then exchanged a nervous look with her younger sisters.
Caer smiled and tilted his head in Maddyn’s direction. "I think those forms have served their purpose for the evening."
Madd's huge head swung around to glare at him. Then the air around the three white Hounds shimmered. A moment later, three nearly identical men in white fighting leathers stood in place of the Hounds. Tall and strong, the three blond men were as massive and vicious looking in human form as they were in canine shape. Then Maddyn stepped forward, a concerned smile softening his features when he offered an elaborate bow that made the youngest girl giggle.
The guards moved off first with Beste in tow, followed by the Hounds, escorting Brunhil and her sisters, leaving Caerwyn alone with Daen.
"I didn't know the Milesans still responded to human requests for help."
The comment was casual, an offhand way to break the silence. Once again, though, Caer heard that tightness in Daen's voice.
His lips twitched and he answered with equal casualness. "Oh, we respond to those who remember the old ways and the proper words."
"Ah. Not many remember the ways or the words anymore. Most believe it is all so much superstition."
"Do you?"
"I did. I believed those old stories to be just that, stories. That is, until I saw it with my own eyes tonight."
He paused. Comfortable in the cover of darkness, Daen did not attempt to mask his expression. Caer, however, clearly saw the considering look cast his way before the prince spoke again.
"I believe meeting you tonight is a sign. I hope you might see my current plight as a worthy cause."
The words were carefully chosen, spoken with slow deliberateness. Before Caer could decide how to interpret that, Daen was talking again.
"I believe I have been cursed by a sorceress in league with my enemy."
The word sorceress left him cold and Caerwyn clamped down on the dark, ugly memories it conjured in him.
"What sort of curse?"
"At first, I believed myself in love with her. Now, I believe this obsession may not be natural. As much as I want to be free of it, I cannot stop thinking of her. Cannot stop yearning to make her my wife."
"And who is your enemy?"
"The Warlord Tresk. Ruler of Marnak."
Caerwyn's stride faltered, and he was grateful for the cover of night to disguise his reaction. He recovered quickly and two steps caught him up to Daen. He kept his voice calm and demeanor aloof while he probed for more information.
*****
With a burst of speed, Liadan d'Hara ran for the forest. The dense trees and thick foliage beckoned to her. Her breath came in shallow pants as she pushed herself. She ran as if the world was chasing her though she was alone in the moonless night. The further and faster she ran, the more relaxed and joyful she became, releasing the stress of one too many problems the day had brought her.
Night air whispered around Liadan, cool and liberating where it moved along her skin. Her bare feet skimmed over the dew-soaked grass while she raced across the lawn.
The third-hand trousers she wore, once so familiar, now felt strange and unnatural after nothing but months of stiff dresses. But with every step, sense memory was coming back. Too soon she touched the big, ancient oak that marked the boundary between the manor grounds and the forest surrounding it.
Rough bark skinned her palms when Lia leaned against it to catch her breath and stare longingly into the dark mystery of the wild wood beyond. Remembering when this was her domain. When exploring its natural secrets was her only job. When sketching its enigmatic beauty her only responsibility.
Lia tore her eyes away and reluctantly looked over her shoulder at the sprawling manor house. A few pale candles glowed here and there among the multitude of shadowed windows. It sat like a beckoning oasis in a sea of darkness, silent and still.
In the bright light of day, though, it was a hub of activity. Surrounded by lawns and fields and orchards and pastures in the distance, it employed a good portion of Hara Dale.
That was her responsibility now. Taking care of the people who inhabited the manor as well as those in every home in the valley. That was her job. Whether she'd been ready, or even willing to have it thrust upon her, she was doing her best by them.
With a long sigh, Lia turned away f
rom the woods that represented freedom incarnate to her. A freedom she'd given up six months ago.
The steps back toward the house were slow, her feet heavy and dragging. The lightness of her joyful run disappeared and each inch closer to her home dragged her down more. As if the stones of the manor anchored themselves to her shoulders, one by one, with every step.
Lia ignored the imposing, and loud, front door, wanting to drag out the little time she had to herself. Instead, she meandered around the back side and quietly entered through the kitchen.
Lia moved as softly as she could up the stairs. Almost forgotten muscle memory allowed her to walk through the dark halls without tripping or stepping on the squeaky floorboards that would wake Nel.
The exhaustion of the day pulled at her, but Liadan bypassed her own door to slip into the nursery where her niece slept.
A single lamp glowed from the dresser, casting warm light over the golden curls and tiny body of Tanis. Barely three and already the hope of the valley's future.
Lia dropped to sit on the floor beside the bed and adjusted the blanket, careful not to disturb the sleeping child. The stones of duty weighing her down eased a little.
This was her true responsibility. This was the true charge thrust into her unready hands with her sister's unexpected death six months earlier.
Lia would keep the legacy and secrets of their little valley safe for Tanis. She would help it grow and prosper so her niece would one day inherit a thriving heritage. Would find a way through the tangled and dangerous political situation her sister had created before her death.
She had to.
The alternative was unthinkable.
A few minutes later, the yawns could no longer be suppressed and her eyes grew heavy. Dragging herself to her feet, Lia let herself out and shut the door with soundless care. Turning towards her room, she stopped abruptly when a figure moved in the shadows.
"Who's there?"
Even while she demanded an answer, the shadow stepped close enough for her to recognize the lanky form of Gui Enreiv, her sister's widowed husband. What Marta had ever seen in the conceited airs and foppish fashion, Lia still could not understand.
"What are you doing here, Gui?"
"Checking on my daughter, of course. I saw you go in, however, and didn't want to disturb you."
Lia bit her cheek to keep her impulsive tongue from asking since when Gui concerned himself with his daughter when he didn't have an audience. The last time he'd spent more than a few moments with Tanis had been during the full moon festival, when the entire valley had been present for the celebrations.
Even then, he had handed off the girl as soon as the wine and spirits began to flow.
He took another step closer and looked her over in the pale light of the dim wall sconce. A deep line appeared on his forehead and a frown darkened his charming mask.
"Please tell me you weren't outside at this time of night? Like that?"
Lia remained silent. Despite what he seemed to think, she was still in charge of the valley and he had no authority over her.
He shook his head, ruffling his artfully arranged black hair. "Really, Liadan. Some of the elder families are already concerned about your inexperience, your lack of preparation and your, well, misspent youth."
He took another step forward and invaded her space. She straightened her spine, refusing to back down, refusing to give an inch, knowing he would take it as a victory.
Lia gritted her teeth when Gui ran a cold, too smooth finger down her cheek in an insincere gesture of affection.
"I've been thinking. Perhaps it would be better for you, and the valley, if we appeared to be more…in accord." Gui's voice dropped on the last word, hinting at something that made Lia want to shudder in disgust.
For several seconds, she was speechless at his gall.
His wife had barely been dead half a year. And Gui had never hidden his view that he considered Lia wholly inappropriate and unladylike.
Not to mention, he was the one who'd talked her sister into the marriage contract that had the future of their valley teetering on the edge of disaster.
The political mess she was losing sleep over had been entirely Gui's idea. He had to know what any hint of an inappropriate relationship between her and any man would mean to Daen. In turn, what consequences it would have for her and the entire valley.
Acidic words tried to fight their way past her lips but she swallowed the bitterness. He was Tanis's father, and Tanis would one day take her proper place as leader of the valley. Antagonizing Gui would only make the situation messier.
Lia pasted on a smile and sidestepped, slipping easily around him. "Perhaps. We should talk about it in the morning. I'm sorry, I'm terribly tired."
"Of course. I look forward to sharing breakfast. Sweet dreams."
He turned and headed toward the east wing and his suite of rooms. It didn't escape her notice that, not only had he failed to check in on his daughter, he hadn't even glanced at her door when he'd walked by it.
Lia leaned against it now and whispered to the sleeping child.
"I will fix this, Tanis. You will have a valley to lead one day. One free of the political ax hanging over our head at the moment."
-2-
"She bewitched me." Daen stood in front of the Baronet's fireplace, gripping a crystal glass of brandy so tight in his fist, Caerwyn worried it might shatter.
"I'm sure of it now, looking back. She's a pretty enough girl, in a provincial sort of way. Not my usual type at all." A large gulp of brandy soothed a little of the Prince's jagged energy.
Daen had been erratic since he'd begun explaining his predicament to Caerwyn and his men. The calm, composed man from the clearing vacillated between edgy anger and needy crying while he spoke of the circumstances of his betrothal. A slight edge of unease curled in Caerwyn's stomach when the man's obvious obsession chased logic from his eyes.
Something about his demeanor did not sit right with Caerwyn. Something seemed off with Daen's demand for vengeance against a woman he felt so strongly about. Regardless of Caer's concern however, he listened. If the man had been wronged, he was entitled to be heard by the Lord of Vengeance. The uneasiness could simply stem from sorcery if it had indeed been used.
"You believed she used sorcery, then? That she used unnatural means to subvert your will?" Caer asked, making sure they were clear on the details. His particular Attribute was not one that should be unleashed without careful review of all the facts and evidence.
"Of course, she must have used sorcery against me. Why else would I have asked for a betrothal agreement drawn up almost the very moment I saw her at the naming ceremony of my cousin's daughter?"
"You have proof sorcery was used?" Maddyn asked calmly from where he stood in the shadows.
The reminder of the eldest Hound's presence made Daen blanch and take a step back before he recovered himself enough to stand his ground. Caer grimaced at the unintended slight against his best friend. It was a common reaction to any of the Hounds, considering their shared Attribute as harbingers of death.
"Obviously I have no proof. How could anyone have proof of something so ephemeral as sorcery?"
Madd rolled his eyes and shared an exasperated glance with his Lord. There was always proof of sorcery if one was smart enough to look for the signs. Unfortunately, Daen was too pampered, privileged and self-absorbed to look at anything outside his own desires.
"So she trapped you into a marriage contract because she wanted to be princess?"
"Yes. Once her sister had a daughter, she was out of the running in the odd matriarchal succession in their archaic little valley. My cousin's land borders theirs. When I met Liadan at the ceremony, she must have decided I was a good bet to move up in the world." Daen frowned, and, for a moment, his eyes cleared. "She is exquisite, though."
Just like that, the smitten look returned and Daen contradicted his claims from only a few minutes before.
From the corner of hi
s eye, Caer caught Phelan and Ranulf exchanging smirks and bit back his own when the two younger Hounds disappeared into the shadows to hide their amusement.
"Now she has refused to marry you. Why?"
"She hasn't refused. She has demanded the traditional year of mourning after her sister's unexpected death. I fear, however, she will continue to find ways to postpone now that she is acting as regent for her niece."
"I'd think you'd be happy since she tricked you into the engagement to begin with?"
"Happy?" he repeated. "How can I be happy when I can think of nothing but being with her? Whether this is sorcery or my own treacherous heart, I must know the truth. If she has played with me in this matter, then I deserve justice."
Daen twisted and began to pace in jerky angry steps back and forth across the carpet in front of Caerwyn. His fingers curled and flexed at his side as if he crushed something invisible within his grasp.
Deciding he'd heard enough about Liadan and her valley, Caer asked the real question weighing on his mind.
"How does any of this involve Tresk?"
Daen paused in his pacing and blinked at Caerwyn. It was amazing to watch rationality slowly seep back into Daen's eyes. Something was definitely amiss, though whether it was sorcery or madness, he could not tell yet.
"I'm not sure that it does. But he is the one who will gain the most. Her brother-in-law is from the Warlord's lands. Our wedding would mean the valley would be attached to my kingdom through marriage. In an attempt to protect it, she may have turned to Tresk for help. Or they may have been working together the entire time, to give Tresk an excuse to invade Galwei."
The edginess drained from him and he seated himself in the well-worn but still comfortable chair across from Caerwyn.
"The Hara valley has been a buffer for generations between Tresk’s land, Galwei, and the Argine Republic. Tresk wants to expand Marnak but is not powerful enough to take me on alone. If he can convince the Republic I am threatening them by taking over the valley, they will likely band together to prevent me having it."
"What's in it for her? It sounds like, either way, she would still lose control of her land?"
By Vengeance Guided (The Lost Shrines Book 1) Page 2