From Darkness Won

by Jill Williamson

  A flash of heat passed over him at the very thought. He was going to be married. To Sparrow. He would praise Arman for the rest of his days for the way it had all worked out.

  They stepped inside the stables. Achan had passed outside them on his tour with Prince Oren but had not come in. The structure was three times the size of the Sitna stables. He sensed hundreds of animals inside. A few chickens roamed the dirt floor. And one piglet, which made Achan think about Mox, the scrawny barn boy who’d been there the day Sir Gavin had first spoken to Achan.

  He peeked down the first row of stalls, which seemed to house only pigs. Where were the horses, then? “Noam? You in here?”

  Footsteps plodded over dirt, nearing, as if someone were running his way. Achan’s guards stepped around him.

  And then Gren appeared, cheeks pinked, looking pale in her black mourning gown that seemed a little too tight over the belly. She also looked to have gained some weight in her cheeks. “Achan!” she squealed. Her eyes darted to Achan’s guards, as if she didn’t know what to make of them. He would see her now as well. Perfect.

  “It’s only Gren,” Achan said. “Sir Shung, meet Gren.”

  Shung grunted and the guards fell back. Shung nodded to Gren. “Pleased to know you.”

  “Sir Shung is my Shield and friend,” Achan said.

  Gren lunged up and hugged Shung. “Oh, thank you for keeping him safe, sir!”

  Shung’s arms remained stiff at his sides. What a puppy the fawn is.

  Achan grinned, but before he could respond to Shung or Gren, Noam stepped into the open.

  “Achan.” Noam glanced at the guards and lowered his gaze. “I mean, Your Highness.”

  “No, Noam. None of that from you.” Achan pulled his old friend into a rough embrace and clapped him on the back. “How are you!”

  “Fine, thanks. Unreal how the gods deceived us all. No wonder you were such a fighter.”

  “I see you have put the stables back together.”

  “Oh, Noam has done everything,” Gren said. “There were a few stable boys who used to work here, but none knew as much about the animals as Noam.”

  “I figured as much,” Achan said. “Which is why I came to ask you to be Lord High Master of the Horse.”

  “Master of what?”

  “Lord High Master of the Horse. It is an official position. Means the management of the Royal Stables and all matters of horses and hounds fall to you. Breeding, care, feeding, things like that. What say you?”

  “You think me worthy?”

  “Are you not doing the job already?”

  “Well, I suppose…”

  “It is settled then, unless you wish to return to Sitna.”

  “No!” Noam said. “I wish to stay here.”

  “Very well then, Master of the Horse. Welcome home.”

  Noam grinned, then laughed, then hugged Gren and swung her around.

  “Achan, that’s wonderful!” Gren said. “But what of me?”

  “You are welcome to live here, Gren.”

  “What about my parents?”

  “You think they would like to move here?”

  Her eyebrows sank. “I don’t know.” She reached out and touched the edge of Lady Averella’s sleeve that was tied to Achan’s arm. “I heard Duchess Amal absolved you from your agreement with Lady Averella.”

  “Aye, she did,” Achan winked, “though I think she and I shall keep the bargain anyway.”

  Gren’s face paled. An awkward silence descended. Noam walked over to Shung and the guards and struck up a conversation.

  “You really love her?” Gren asked Achan.

  The thought of Sparrow made Achan smile. “Aye.”

  Gren did not smile. “Well, I think she’s a fool for treating you the way she did.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “She had her reasons.”

  She poked a finger against his chest. “Don’t you defend her. She was being a fool.”

  He laughed and snagged her wrist to deflect any more knife-like jabs. “Fine. She was a fool.”

  Gren sighed and pulled out of his grip. “I like her too.” She stepped back and leaned against the first pigpen. “She’s so smart.”

  Achan huffed a sarcastic laugh. “Too smart sometimes.”

  “I thought maybe you’d still want me.”

  Achan’s face tingled as the blood drained away. “Oh, Gren. We talked about this back in Carmine.”

  “You always wanted to marry me, and now that you are king, you can do anything you want, right?”

  “Within reason.”

  “And what is unreasonable about marrying the woman you love?”

  “Gren.”

  “You don’t love me anymore.”

  The words struck Achan’s chest like a fist. But he had to be honest. “I’m sorry.”

  Her bottom lip trembled.

  “Nor do you love me in that way, Gren, so do not play games.” Achan looked over her black dress again. “Who do you truly mourn in this gown? Riga or Bran Rennan?”

  A rosy flush crept over Gren’s cheeks, but she whispered a laugh. “Is it not ironic, Achan, that you’ll marry Bran’s former love and that I might have married…” She sucked in a long and quivery breath. “Was there any chance he’d have married me? I was certain he cared. I could see it in his eyes.”

  Achan took her hand in his. “He did care, Gren.”

  She clapped her free hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes closed. This did not stop the tears from leaking past her eyelids and trickling down her cheeks. Her other hand settled protectively over her unborn child.

  Achan took her into his arms and held her tightly. She sobbed and trembled, and he stroked her hair with one hand and rubbed her back with the other.

  Gren pulled away and met his eyes, her cheeks wet and glossy. “What will become of me? You were always my hero. You always stepped in to save me.”

  “I cannot save you anymore, Gren. No man can save you always. We’re too flawed.”

  “You’re going to tell me that your Arman god can?”

  Achan shrugged. “Not if you already know it.”

  “What you did to bring back the light… I’ve never seen anything like that.”

  “There is no one like Arman, Grenny.” Achan told her then of how he had found Sparrow at the gates of Shamayim, of the glorious pull of that place, of meeting Câan in Mitspah. Of his choice to serve Arman above all things.

  “Please, Achan. If you won’t marry me, take me as your servant. I can work in a kitchen. Let my child grow up in the castle where he’ll be safe and provided for. I can’t go back. The people in Carmine disdain me. And no one I know lives in Sitna anymore. Please, have mercy.”

  “Harnu plans to return to Sitna.”

  She snorted. “Harnu…”

  “Harnu also asked me for my blessing.”

  “To marry me?” She rolled her eyes. “That man.”

  “I wonder if we have both misjudged him.”

  Her mouth gaped. “Achan, you can’t be serious.”

  “If he were any other man, how would you interpret his actions since Riga’s death? I’m told he maintains your cottage. And that he left his duty to his father to assist you and Sparrow on a foolish crusade. He risked his life for you both. He also fought in my army and earned a promotion.”

  “Write a song about him, then, why don’t you?”

  “Don’t let your childhood prejudices taint who he’s become. I beg you, consider his offer. I want to know that you are being taken care of. I’ll move your family, Harnu’s, the smithy, and your entire cottage to Armonguard, if need be.”

  “I thought no man could save me?”

  “That’s not what I meant. Promise me you will think about Harnu?”

  Gren twisted her lips into a reluctant smile. “I will think about it. But I promise nothing more.”

  42

  A lot went into planning a wedding—even more so for planning a joint coronation. Achan al
lowed himself to be dragged along by Prince Oren, Sir Caleb, Sir Eagan, and Duchess Amal, agreeing to whatever they liked best.

  Red velvet would be best? Very well.

  Achan’s officers should carry an organza canopy? Fine.

  The garden would make a lovely place to be wed? The garden it would be.

  Achan simply wanted to be married. But Sir Eagan informed him that Duchess Amal had selected a date for the wedding that was still two weeks away. Achan desired no grand party. When he asked why he must wait two weeks, Sir Eagan said it had something to do with Lady Averella’s being a woman. Then Achan was sorry he’d asked.

  He saw Sparrow only at mealtimes in the great hall. The duchess had her daughter on a strict schedule that involved bizarre beauty treatments, diets, and baths. Achan found this a waste of time. No amount of bathing in rose petals could improve perfection. Besides, he’d seen her reposed in trousers and an orange tunic—and liked her then.

  Prince Oren took him to where the royal jewels were kept, in a locked, secret room off the king’s chamber. Here Achan marveled over crowns, swords and shields, rings, brooches, and more types of jewelry than he ever imagined existed. After spending hours looking over everything, Prince Oren suggested he choose something to send to Lady Averella as a gift. Something she could wear in the wedding. So Achan chose one of his mother’s crowns, and Sir Caleb had it sent.

  Achan would have rather taken the crown to her himself.

  One other task occupied his free time. He had grown up believing a man had one responsibility to complete before he could marry: he had to build a home, a place for his bride to live, a place to build a family.

  Since Achan now owned Castle Armonguard, he didn’t need to build a home, so he poured all his efforts into remodeling the king’s chambers and the adjoining solar.

  The two weeks flew by.

  The night before his wedding Achan lay awake tossing and turning in his bed. Then at last a sudden calm came over him. He sat up and looked to the door. “Sir Eagan?”

  But it was Sparrow’s voice that filled his mind. My father taught me his little trick. Lay back, and I shall help you sleep.

  Achan obeyed, but Sparrow’s attentions, no matter how calming, would never help him sleep. What are you—?

  Shh. I have a song for you.

  A song?

  Pity on my heart from the day I first saw you.

  Your pleasing face burns—

  Really? From the day you first saw me?

  Yes. I was enamored with you. I simply could not figure you out. A stray soldier. You were a mystery.

  Achan left his body and passed through the Veil until he floated above Sparrow’s bed. She wore a white gown. Her blankets were pulled up to her waist, and she smelled sweet. There were no chaperones in the Veil. What did your mother make you bathe in today?

  Rosewater and olive oil. Then I had to have yet another sea salt and honey scrub. And just when I thought it was over, a horrible, tortuous sugar and lemon paste.

  How is a sugar and lemon paste tortuous? It sounds delicious.

  But they don’t let me eat it. They use it to rip off my hair.

  She didn’t look to be missing any hair. You’re ripping off your hair? Whatever for?

  Not the hair on my head, goose. The hair on my legs and arms… Every place but my head. I am so soft you will be able to fold me up and put me in a satchel.

  The thought of touching her skin sent a thrill through his body. You smell like almonds.

  She gasped and pulled the blankets to her chin. Achan, go back to your room. You have no business being here.

  Why not? If you’re going to talk to me, I’ d much rather see your face.

  She growled, but it sounded so much like a purring kitten that Achan laughed.

  So, why do you smell like almonds? Achan asked.

  Syrah washed my hair with crushed almonds. It is supposed to make it silkier.

  Achan couldn’t see any difference in the dark. Really?

  You can tell me what you think tomorrow.

  I wish you were here now.

  It is only one more day.

  It may as well be one hundred.

  You poor dear.

  He watched her eyes flicker around him, never quite looking in the right place. Are you nervous? he asked.

  A little. Are you?

  I don’t like being stared at by a crowd of people.

  I will call it off, you know, if you want me to. There is still time.

  Very funny, Sparrow. I want to show you our home. I built it for you… sort of.

  A home?

  The king’s chambers. I think you will like it.

  Is there an open place where I can practice my leg sweep on you?

  He chuckled. As a matter of fact, there is.

  Excellent. I shall bid you farewell, then, Achan. Please let go of my mind so I can sleep, or I will have no energy for leg sweeping tomorrow.

  We mustn’t have that. Sleep well, Vrell Sparrow. Until the cock crows.

  Until then. Good night.

  Achan fought the temptation to remain in her bedchamber and watch her sleep. After tonight, he would never be parted from Sparrow again.

  He returned to his body and stared at the organza canopy above his bed. He could never rest now without help, so he reached out for Shung’s mind, heard the man’s heavy snoring, and relaxed, drugged by his Shield’s deep sleep.

  Averella could not breathe. “That is too tight!”

  “Once more and I will be done.” Lady Coraline Orthrop pulled the ties of Averella’s corset again.

  Averella swore she heard a rib crack. “I will not be able to walk.”

  “Pish posh. A corset does not affect your legs.”

  “If my brain can only think of the pain and lack of air, it will not have time to tell my legs to move.”

  “You are terribly dramatic, Averella. How ever will the king put up with you?”

  “The same way every man finds a way to put up with his wife, I suppose. Are not all women dramatic at times?”

  “Just you remember to show him respect.”

  “Oh, he knows I respect him. But how will a tight corset matter? I can tell you now he cares little for these things.”

  Lady Coraline smiled. “He may think he cares little now, but once he sees you in it, I have no doubt he will ask you to wear it again.”

  Averella rolled her eyes. “All the more reason he never see me in it. Then he will not be disappointed when I burn it.”

  “At least you will not have to wear it for long.”

  Lady Coraline’s singsong tone brought a flush to Averella’s cheeks, but she held her tongue. The less she reacted, the less Lady Coraline would provoke her.

  “Let’s get your dress on now.” Lady Coraline gathered the sides of Averella’s wedding gown and held it down on the floor. “Step in.”

  Averella put a hand on Lady Coraline’s shoulder and stepped into the gown. Lady Coraline pulled it up, twisted it the right direction, then helped Averella get her arms into the sleeves.

  Averella had to admit, the gown was lovely, even if the waist was two sizes too small. The dress was all blue, as blue symbolized purity, peace, loyalty, and trust.

  It had a fitted bodice, long fitted sleeves, and a flowing skirt made of pale blue brocade heavily embroidered with golden thread and pearls. Embroidered blue brocade accented the gown with a cuff around each upper arm, an inlay on the top of the bodice, and a loose belt that dangled in front.

  Mother said Achan would be wearing blue as well. Averella could not wait to see him.

  Once Lady Coraline had laced up the gown, Syrah fetched the matching blue cape that was lined in gold satin. It attached with two sapphire brooches that clipped to the front of the dress just below each shoulder, allowing the cape to drape off the shoulders and trail on the ground. A third sapphire brooch clipped onto the belt in the center front.

  Lady Coraline had already attacked Averella’s hair. It
was down, as a bride’s hair usually was for her wedding. But Lady Coraline had curled much of it with an iron rod that was still perched in the embers of the fireplace.

  Now that Averella was dressed, Lady Coraline set a gold circlet on Averella’s head. It was encrusted with sapphires and rubies—a gift from Achan that had belonged to his mother.

  Lady Coraline attached a two-layer white organza veil to the circlet then turned Averella to face a full-length mirror. “There now. It is not trousers, but it is blue.”

  “It makes me look as though I have a figure.”

  “You look radiant, and you do have a figure.”

  “If only something could be done for my voice.”

  “The prince loves you as you are, so you told me. You would not be you with another woman’s figure or voice.” Lady Coraline peered over Averella’s shoulder and met her gaze in the mirrorglass. “Are you ready, my dear?”

  “As ready as a girl can be on her wedding day, I suppose.”

  “Are you frightened about the ceremony?”

  “No.”

  “About the celebration?”

  “No.”

  “About tonight?”

  Averella turned her head and met Lady Coraline’s eyes. “I am nervous, but not afraid.”

  “You are fortunate to be marrying someone you love.”

  Averella looked back at her reflection in the mirrorglass and sighed. “I know.”

  A pressure squeezed in on Averella’s mind and her mother said, It is time, dearest. Are you ready?

  Yes. “Mother is coming,” she said to Lady Coraline.

  Lady Coraline scowled. “I hate it when you do that. You and your mother and your bloodvoices.”

  “And my husband.”

  Lady Coraline rolled her eyes. “Yes, child. Your children will likely have it too. What ever will I do?”

  “Get used to it.”

  Achan couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t the layers of blue silk and velvet he was wearing, though he wondered at the cost of his outfit. If silk and velvet were cheaper than coats of chain, maybe he could outfit his army in wedding ensembles. They felt equally thick and brought the same inescapable heat.