“My little sister would be in her element here.”
She plucked a bright pink petal from a ginvera flower and brushed it softly beneath her nose to inhale the fragrance. Finn only had to close his eyes to experience the sensation she was feeling, a momentary uplifting of spirit as she fondly recalled her sister. If the bond between them were stronger, if they were committed to each other, he would be able to see what she was seeing, but as it was he caught only a fleeting glimpse of honey gold hair streaming in the wind before that flash of imagery faded from mind.
”Miri always had such love for things that grow. She’d spend entire days in the palace gardens, lost among the flowers, buzzing with the bees. She swore they spoke to her, told her secrets.” Her spirit fell again, heavy sadness falling over her like a dark cloak. When Finn opened his eyes, he saw she was blinking, trying desperately to hold back the tears blurring her vision.
“Hey, Princess, it’s gonna be okay.”
“But it’s not. I’ll probably never see her again,” she whispered, a gasp of sorrow catching in her throat. She was back in front of the fountain, the petal she’d pulled bobbing and floating atop the water. Gripping fingers curled so tight around the stone her hands looked white as snow. “There was always the promise. He said we would visit her and my mother, that he would send for them and bring them to Hofft for a holiday, and even if it was a lie, it comforted her. She depended on me so much, and I just left her.”
“Who said that?”
Ignoring his question, she went on, the tears slipping slowly down her cheeks. She didn’t even try to hide them or reach up and brush them away, and though she looked so fragile, in that moment she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“When I said goodbye I told her not to cry because we’d see one another soon enough, but now I’ll never see her again. I won’t be able to protect her from him.”
“Hey,” Finn’s hand came down to rest on her shoulder. “You don’t know that.”
She shrugged away his touch and stepped back from him. “I do know that. As if it’s not enough that your people are going to send me into exile in some frigid wasteland I’ll probably never find my way back from, he is probably marching into Leithe as we speak to overthrow King Aelfric and using me as leverage to do it. What will happen to my baby sister then? All those soldiers? She’s just a girl, but she’s so pretty, so innocent and trusting.”
“Who is marching into Leithe to overthrow King Aelfric?”
“The man my fath—the man Aelfric offered my hand to,” she murmured, sniffling a little. “He couldn’t hurt me, couldn’t kill me like he wanted to, so he will make her pay because he knows how much she meant to me. She’s just a baby.”
“Your… betrothed?”
That one word was like a cold dagger to the chest, a flare of jealousy stronger than any rage he’d ever felt rising to the surface until he swore he could feel his heart beating in the clenched muscles of his tightened jaw. There was so much fear in her eyes, and he could feel that pumping through her too, fear mingled with his rage. He felt like he was going to explode.
“You wanted to know what I was running from when you found me, well, now you know. The man who bartered for my hand in marriage took me miles and miles away from home, but not because he wanted to take me for his wife. He planned to kill me and lay the blame on someone else so he could use his false longing for vengeance to get closer to my father and his kingdom.” She paused only long enough for a half-mad laugh to escape her. “Gods, I guess I’m no better than my mother, running away from my own wedding, but…”
She stopped herself, turning back to the pool behind her and shaking her head.
“But what?”
“Nothing. I never should have said anything. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter.” He moved toward her again, the twitching hand at his side longing to reach out and comfort her, to draw her near so he could protect her from whatever it was she was so afraid of. “It matters to me.”
Laughter mingled with the choke of her tears, but she didn’t spin around to look at him again. “Why? You don’t even know me.”
He wanted to shout at her that she was wrong, to grab her by the shoulders and shake her as he admitted every part of him knew every part of her better than she could even imagine, and for a moment those words were on the edge of his tongue, his fists clenching so tight at his sides he could feel the neatly trimmed nails digging into the flesh of his palms. It was there, on the verge of being spoken, and then the doors from the temple burst open and once again Vilnjar inserted himself between Finn and his mate just when the conversation was really starting to go somewhere.
Stalking toward them with a purpose and a fire in his eyes, he started barking at them from halfway across the garden.
“I’ve been looking all over for you. I brought food back to the temple, but you were nowhere to be found, and for a minute I thought the two of you cooked up some clever scheme to escape the inevitable, but then I realized Mad Finn would never abandon an opportunity to make the rest of us rue the day he was born.”
Finn felt the tension in Lorelei constrict her muscles tighter, but he didn’t let his own emotions show. As tough as he liked to play things sometimes, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to spending the rest of his days trying to tough it out in Rimian. He’d heard dreadful things about the place, about wind and cold so frigid they could freeze a man straight to his bones. Trolls half-starved of game that would devour a man slowly, gnawing his bones while he still lived just to savor the warmth of his blood.
Glancing down at her again, his mouth twitched with amusement. At least they’d have each other to keep them warm… maybe… eventually.
“The princess needed some fresh air,” he said casually, ignoring the harsh tone of his brother’s voice and instead focusing on the rising annoyance he felt from her when he’d called princess again. “We’ve been out here the whole time. Right through the doors, all you had to do was open them to find us.”
“Well, it’s time to come into the hall. The chancellor is about to ring the bells, and they are sending guards to collect you. If you both walk into the hall of your own free will, it may work in your favor, demonstrate that you’re willing to cooperate.”
“In our favor?” Finn laughed, but he could feel Lorelei tensing again beside him, the pace of her heart quickening at the prospect of standing judgment before a council she knew nothing about. “There is nothing about what we’re going to face that will work in our favor, Viln, no matter how we cooperate. You know it as well as I do. You said yourself they’ve been looking for a reason to get rid of me for years, and now they finally have one. And her,” he paused to look over at her and she turned her gaze upward to meet his. For a moment they just stared at each other, and he swore it felt like she knew him, really knew him the way he knew her, but then the moment passed. “If they don’t smell her parentage in her blood, the truth from Rhiorna will be enough to bring the gavel down. We’ll be shackled and chained in silver and on the road to Rimian before the moons rise.”
“They already know who she is.” Vilnjar stepped up to him and lowered a surprisingly gentle hand on his thick shoulder. For the first time in a very long time he saw gentleness in his brother’s eyes, unbridled concern and a longing to protect. Finn supposed it had always been there, but he’d been so busy trying to break free from all oppression, including his dominating older brother, he’d never really noticed it before. “I’m not going to let them do this thing, Finn. I’ve averted you from disaster so many times, this one will be no different.”
They knew who she was? Those words sunk in, filled him with dread and something he didn’t yield to often: fear. “Brother, I don’t think there is anything you can do to stop it.”
“I still have to try.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” he reasoned. “Maybe Rhiorna is right, and this is what has to happen.”
Vilnjar’s eyes widened thoughtfu
lly, as if those words made more sense than he could have imagined, but a flash of defiance flickered to life in him and he shook his head. “Rhiorna is wrong. I don’t know what magic she’s worked on you, but I can’t just stand idly by and watch whatever plot she’s cooking destroy my little brother’s life.”
“Then we are at odds, Viln, because whatever happens in there tonight is what was meant to happen all along, and she has seen it. It is the will of our god, and I will not ignore Llorveth’s will.”
“Since when do you care about Llorveth’s will, Finn? You haven’t even been to temple in so long the priest barely remembers your name.”
“I don’t go to temple because the priest is a liar and a charlatan. He pushes us further and further from Llorveth with every sermon, telling us it is Llorveth’s wish for us to deny what lives inside us, to forget what we are, but Llorveth made us what we are. What we’ve become, what we are now… This,” he held up his arms as he stepped back and Vilnjar’s arm slipped from his shoulder. “This is not who we are, and if the princess can bring us back to the place we are meant to be, I will follow her to the ends of Vennakrand if I have to.”
Lorelei shrank back from that grand statement, an unspoken horror in her eyes as the weight of it all pressed down upon her. She didn’t have to say it; he could feel her screaming inside that she was not leading anyone anywhere, and not even the will of a god could convince her otherwise.
“Finn, please,” he bargained in a tight-lipped whisper. “This is madness.”
He grinned, tilting his head toward the sound of ringing bells summoning them to judgment. The doors at the back of the garden opened again and four guards marched into the open space with a purpose. “They don’t call me Mad Finn for nothing, Viln.”
“By order of Chancellor Cobin, Finn of Drekne and Lorelei of Leithe, you are summoned to stand before the Council of the Nine for judgment. Will you come willingly to your judging?”
Finn held his wrists up in concession and turned his attention back to Lorelei as the guards approached. She was scared, he could feel her fear trembling through his own veins, making his stomach feel weak, but for her he had to be strong. He had to show her the old ways, the ways the others had forgotten so she could rise up and claim the task Llorveth had laid out for her, even if she wasn’t yet ready to know her place in the world. The bells began to toll, ringing loud and clear through the village, drawing in every soul that heard them ring and the sound made her tremble even more.
Finn offered her a soft smile just before he winked.
“Don’t struggle, Princess. Don’t give them the satisfaction of your fear.”
CHAPTER TEN
So many faces, all of them watching as the guards brought the prisoners into the main hall for the judgment. Finn said there were maybe two hundred people in all of Drekne, but it seemed like so much more. Narrowed, curious eyes searching her out, silently begging her to make contact and confirm rumors they heard about the strange girl Mad Finn the Reckless brought into the safe confines of their village.
There was no need to restrain the two of them. She thought for a moment Finn might cause trouble. Though she may not have known him very well, it just seemed the type of thing he might do, but he went willingly, if not as quietly as Vilnjar urged him to do. Finn was scared, possibly just as much as she was. She didn’t know how she knew that because he seemed to be putting on a pretty convincing act, but underneath it she swore she could feel the intensity of his nervousness. Even with two guards between them the buzz of his energy seemed to touch her in some strange way she couldn’t make sense of, or maybe it was her own fear, which was larger and more daunting than anything she’d ever felt before.
She’d never been judged before, at least not in the capacity she was facing then. A couple of times when she’d gotten particularly out of hand while disobeying Pahjah she’d been made to stand before her father for punishment, but even the severity of a king’s anger over being bothered by something so trivial as a child’s disobedience seemed paltry compared to the intensity she felt in the council hall of Drekne.
The only comparable example she could summon to her memory was the day she’d been marched before the entire court for presentation to her potential betrothed. Everyone who was anyone had turned out in Rivenn for the betrothal of King Aelfric’s oldest daughter, and to give them all a show they wouldn’t forget the king made sure she was scantily wrapped in a fashionable dress from Hofft that left many of the men in the audience gaping after he as she passed them on her way to the throne for inspection.
The jelly-like weakness in her legs threatened to spill her onto the old wooden floors, and she wished for a moment the guards leading them hadn’t separated her from Finn. She could have leaned on him, and though she didn’t know why she was so sure of it, she knew he would have held her upright all the way through the hall. The tiny amount of distance between them struck an unbelievable amount of panic and confusion in her. He was just a stranger, but she felt so safe when he was near her, as if he would protect her from all harm by throwing her behind him and rising to challenge anyone who might try to hurt her.
But why would he do that? Why would he stick his neck out for someone he didn’t know at all?
She hadn’t been anywhere else in the building, only the healing room, temple and gardens which had all held a warm, simple charm. She expected the same from the main hall, and while the rustic, pale wooden walls were the same, they were decorated with iron sconces that plumed trails of black smoke that stained the wood and made her eyes burn. The dirty orange flames overshadowed a sea of bustling bodies crowded into the rows of worn benches arching in half circles before a curved table around which seven of the most dire, serious people she’d ever laid eyes on were seated.
She took Finn’s advice and didn’t show them how scared she was. Gulping down as much of her fear as she could swallow, she scanned the small, crowded hall, making eye contact with everyone who dared to meet her gaze. They looked no different than the simple folk who’d come to court to appeal to King Aelfric for aid in times of hardship. As she met the stare of a glassy-eyed, middle-aged man sitting near the front row, the look he gave her could only be described as a bloodthirsty leer and Lorelei realized that even though she was desperately trying not to show it, they could definitely smell her fear.
Every single person in that room was waiting for her to visibly tremble and the moment she did she became prey.
Finn was right. She couldn’t give them what they wanted. And if there was even a grain of truth to what Rhiorna told her just a few hours earlier, as soon as her identity was confirmed their fear would be hers to revel in.
It was a strange feeling, recognizing the potential of that power. All her life she’d dreamed of being powerful, at least powerful enough to make her own life choices, but being a king’s daughter did not allow for her to think for herself or make her own decisions. Every moment of her life had been carefully plotted and planned by her father, but Aelfric wasn’t even really her father.
That revelation still felt strange and new. Her emotions tangled around it as she tried to think of Aelfric as a tyrant, a cruel and selfish man who’d killed her real father before she was even born, but every time she drew close to accepting it as truth she remembered how tenderly he’d embraced her before sending her off into the world, how thoughtful and proud he was as he said goodbye. Aelfric may not have sired her, and perhaps he’d hated her real father, but he’d accepted her as his daughter to the best of his ability. Realizing that only intensified her confusion and made her sad.
It was going to take a lot of getting used to not thinking of Aelfric as her father whenever he entered her thoughts. Her true father was a stranger, a fearless, power-hungry warrior who quite readily matched the description Master Davan painted whenever he spoke of the U’lfer as a race. She tried to imagine her meek, quiet mother with a man like that and couldn’t picture it at all. On the other hand, perhaps she didn’t really know
her mother the way she thought she did. Silent, submissive Ygritte sounded almost as though she’d been just like Lorelei, and her failed escape from a life she never wanted had ended in disaster.
That was not going to happen to Lorelei. She hadn’t run from Trystay because she didn’t want to marry him. She’d been scared of leaving home, yes, terrified of starting a new life in another country so far away from those she loved, but under the surface she’d been giddy at the prospect of marrying her dashing, handsome prince. Until she heard him plotting to kill her, of course.
She ran because she wasn’t going to die, not for Trystay or Aelfric or anyone else. She was in control of her own life for the first time ever. The likelihood that she would ever make it back to Rivenn once the U’lfer council exiled her was slim, and though it terrified her and broke her spirit to embrace the very real possibility she might never see her sister again, she would have no choice but the take the reins of her life and make her own way in the world. For starters, she was going to have to figure out a way to convince the severe ring of seven preparing to judge her that she was innocent. The only trouble with that was she had no idea what she was supposed to be guilty of.
Being born, she supposed. Being the daughter of a man the people surrounding her held responsible for their dire situation, their near extinction. She knew so little about the U’lfer, and after ten minutes of conversation with Rhiorna, she doubted she could trust even half of the things Master Davan taught her about the shape-shifting race of wolves around her. Her eyes flitted through the room, combed over face after face and saw people. Men, women, children… Families with hopes and dreams no different than those she’d seen walk in and out of the palace every time King Aelfric held court. They were desperate, destitute, downtrodden, and though her presence there seemed to have roused their curiosity, many of them looked upon her with unspoken anger.
Edgelanders (Serpent of Time) Page 13