by R. J. Price
Av looked at Jer who frowned at him. “What are you thinking?”
“We have several problems,” Jer said. “But some are more pressing than others. Lord Av, if you are keen on the Lady Aren, I strongly suggest you stake your claim. Before the mating ceremony.”
Frowning, Av watched Jer leave. He knew calling out would be pointless, since Jer would not answer. After seeing the exchange between Em and Aren, however, Av did not need an explanation, simply a moment to make the connection. He moved through the ball, searching for Aren, or Em. Either would do.
He'd break Em's legs, which would at least slow her down, and if he found Aren—well he wasn't certain what he would do.
“Lord Av,” Aren said sounding surprised.
A lord shouldered past him, growling something at Av under his breath. Av was distracted for only a moment before he looked at Aren.
“Lady Aren,” he said, stepping up to her. “You are free in a few days, from my understanding.”
“Yes, I may see about purchasing land, or visiting a friend to the south.”
“You have friends?” Av said. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't sound surprised, but you have spent all your time with Lady Mar, however did you find the time to make a friend outside of the palace as well?”
“More a friend,” Aren hesitated, a fog coming over her eyes, “of a friend. I always have trouble recalling that you and Lord Jer are brothers.”
“Jer looks more like our mother,” Av said.
“Oh,” Aren nodded slowly. “I have heard comments tonight, of how Mar looks much like her father. These ladies were surprised to hear that Mar's father is not here.”
Av shook his head. “Sometimes people only see what they want to see.”
Aren smiled slowly. “How well I know.”
How well indeed. Av took a step closer to Aren, feeling his heart patter as he stepped close enough to touch her. At that distance it almost seemed he could see through her, causing Av to wonder why he had never come this close before. Why had he only touched her the one time, and how had he missed the heat that seemed to be flooding him?
That had been the start, hadn't it? From that day forward, Av had found himself thinking of Aren more and more. Had he seen what she was, did he know what she was all this time, and had simply denied himself of the idea? Av breathed through his mouth, tasting the air around Aren. No perfume to cover her scent, Aren relied on the strong perfumes of other bodies to distort the air.
Av reached out, placed a hand on Aren's jaw and drew it down, caressing her. For a shuddering moment he was almost certain and then it was gone. He was left with a lingering desire and a keen understanding that the shudder had been mutual.
“May we speak, in private?” he managed to get out without sounding dishonourable.
He was the master. Any woman was safe with him, her honour guaranteed by his unspoken word, yet Aren hesitated before she gave the smallest of nods. Leading the way, Av took Aren out of the ball and to a nearby sitting room. Meant for talks between lords while their ladies danced, a place to do business while on neutral ground, the rooms were sparsely furnished but were warm and lit.
Av closed and locked the door, then turned to Aren, who blinked those big eyes at him. She looked like a commoner once more but now he could almost see her saying 'just a normal woman, nothing to see here' as he watched her intertwine her fingers nervously.
That simply would not do.
He closed the distance between them, took her face in his hands, and kissed her. When his tongue thrust into her mouth he felt her flutter against him. His hands moved to her shoulders, down her sides, and tightened on her hips as they kissed. Almost—he could almost feel the strangeness. A second layer of defence against the nosey, Aren had cloaked herself tightly.
Av moved his hands from her hips to her back. He broke off the kiss and breathed out as she breathed in. Aren's face was flush, her chest moving with her heaving breath. His fingers trailed down her cheek. He almost felt remorse at what he was about to do.
He kissed her again, pushing her back, making her retreat until her back was against the wall. Once there he pressed himself tight against her, felt her heart thundering in her chest, and knew his own was doing the same. Av was about to do a terrible thing, yet his body told him it was right, that this woman was worth it. His father always said to follow instinct, a lesson that had never led Av wrong.
Turning to Aren's neck, Av kissed, and then bit with just enough force to put pressure on her flesh. Aren moaned, pressing against him. His hands worked up her skirts, lifting them, grazing against her legs. As his fingers grazed her inner thigh, the last veil fell away. Av stiffened, staring at Aren, seeing her entirely for the first time since he had met her.
No, that wasn't true, was it? There had been fleeting glimpses of this—he had seen it, had even known it—but denied it because he hadn't wanted to see that, hadn't wanted it to be true, not then, not at that time.
“You're a queen,” he said.
The warmth of pleasure could not buffer against hearing those words out loud. Aren and Av stared at one another for a long moment. She reached out with her right hand, as if to touch him, and Av pulled away, terrified. If Em knew he had touched a queen, she would take his hands, especially with the moods she had been taken by recently. As he stepped back, Av saw the crackle of magic, a little flash out the corner of his eye, and came to a frightening realization.
Aren was stronger than Em. Than the throne, than the well of magic the queens of the last century had collected together to try to run the lights and water at the palace. She could hide so well because no one expected to see her, no one thought that she could be alive at a time when the queens were weak.
Av had escaped the hand but forgotten something else his father had taught him. Never assume that because one faced a magic user, one could not be attacked from behind. Something hard and heavy contacted with the side of Av's head. He fought the pain and the darkness that threatened to envelop him, but his legs dropped out from under him. Losing the battle with unconsciousness, Av focused all he had left on Jer, who was only a few rooms away.
He needed his brother.
Chapter Seventeen
Aren ran, covering herself as much as she could as she fled to Mar's rooms. She changed quickly, dropping the court dress in the middle of the floor. No point leaving a hastily written note for Mar; it would be a waste of precious time. Out of the rooms again she bolted, nearly colliding with Telm.
“What's gotten into you, girl?” Telm called after Aren, oblivious to what had happened in the sitting room.
It would be a matter of moments, Aren was certain, before the alarm went up. She had to get out of the palace, off of the grounds, before that happened. There was no way she could go to Jer's father now, not after attacking one of his sons, not after being revealed.
Everyone would know, everyone would whisper about her, and she would never be safe. Her only option was to run, and the only place she had to go was the land by the lake. From there she could contemplate her options, find a way to get away. She just needed time to think.
Running up to Lord Worl, Aren skidded to a stop at the last moment, almost running into him.
“If we're going to go, we have to go now,” Aren said, mounting the horse.
“Fine and well. You've ridden before?”
“Yes,” Aren said. “Lead the way.”
“Would you like to ride all night, or sleep on the way?” Lord Worl asked before mounting his own horse. “There is a nice camp at the halfway point, I know the folk who own it. We can sleep there.”
“If you don't mind, I would like to ride out, see the land, and have the matter settled as soon as possible,” Aren said.
“As you wish.” Lord Worl spurred his horse and Aren followed.
Each moment that passed, Aren was certain she would hear an alarm called behind them. Once, Aren heard the thundering of hooves and thought that would be the end of her, but the sound was fro
m a messenger headed to the palace, not away from it. Into the night and then the early hours of the morning the pair rode in silence. Aren's ears straining, Lord Worl watching Aren, and then the road ahead of them.
Aren would not have been able to sleep, had they stopped, fear getting the better of her. Lord Worl did not seem to mind riding, either. He appeared almost excited as the sun rose. With still no call behind them, she relaxed slightly, but only slightly. There was no reason for Jer to think of following her in this direction, no reason for him to look into Lord Worl's accounts and lands. No one would know that she was headed that way. All they really knew was that Aren was looking for a cottage on a lake. The land around the palace had plenty of lakes, and cottages spattered the land.
As the sun rose Aren turned over her options, considering each one carefully. By the time Lord Worl called for a stop, Aren had run out of options.
Aren followed Lord Worl's example and tied off her horse.
“About a ten-minute walk this way. I've not had the path cleared in a few years, it is a little overgrown,” Lord Worl said, motioning to what appeared to be an indent in the encroaching forest.
Following Lord Worl down the thin path, Aren pushed branches and bushes out of her way. The area looked as if it had not been lived in for quite some time and that suited her purposes very well. When ten minutes passed and they still did not see a cottage, Aren's suspicion began to grow.
“Hrm.” Lord Worl stopped, looking around. “Oh, I see what I did, there, see through the trees?” He pointed.
Stepping up beside Lord Worl, Aren peered through the trees. From that vantage point she could see the lake sparkling in the morning sun. The sight calmed her worried mind, and she felt the suspicion drain from her as Lord Worl smiled openly.
“My family would camp here in the summers, you see. I was taking the backwards way. I'll show you, since we're down this path anyhow. There's a cave here.” Lord Worl made a motion and continued walking down the path.
Aren followed along for some time before she noticed Lord Worl's clothing, the formal clothes he had worn to the ball. He seemed not to care as he brushed past a thistle that snagged on his pant leg. Such fine clothing for him to ruin on a hike in the woods, but then, Aren hadn't given him much warning or time to change, and he had said he needed the land to sell.
The cave appeared, a hole in the side of a hill that looked as if stone from deep within the earth had been pulled out and up, forming what looked like a nearly perfect door shape. Aren stopped beside Lord Worl as he squinted into the darkness. He made a face at the hole, and then looked to Aren.
“When I was growing up my father used to tell me stories about this cave, said that it was filled with spirits. If you walk in you can hear the voices of hundreds of queens whispering in the dark. They said that if you spent a night in the cave, you'd go mad.” Lord Worl chuckled. “My brothers and I spent a night in there, to prove our courage to one another. We were fine. There is a stone in there, shiny and pretty, but no one will mine it, say it's a cave to the spirit realm. Else I'd be mining in this area instead of seeking to sell.”
Aren nodded slowly, and looked into the cave. She approached it slowly and turned her right ear toward it. For a moment she thought she heard many voices, all speaking words she could not understand. Making a sound, she glanced at Lord Worl, who smiled and made a motion for her to explore.
At the edge of the cave, Aren set a hand on the rock of the entrance. The voices stilled suddenly and one spoke above the others.
A voice sounded like Mar's as it shouted, “Run!”
Aren snatched her hand away from the cave entrance. Her fingertips tingled, then vibrated, the vibration working its way up her arm. She gave her hand a shake and walked back to Lord Worl. If it were truly a cave to the spirit realm Mar would not have spoken to her through the rock, because Mar was still alive. The entire court would ensure Mar's survival, at least until she was mated.
“That's a little frightening, I will admit,” Aren said. “May I see the cottage now?”
“Of course, this way,” Lord Worl motioned down the path before he set off, leading the way. “How were you planning on paying, if I might ask?”
“Paper of credit through Lord Jer,” Aren responded. “For looking after the Lady Mar until her mating he promised to negotiate the price of a cottage for me.”
“Oh dear, did you tell him you were looking at one on a lake?” Lord Worl asked, looking genuinely concerned as he turned to Aren, but continued walking.
He did not, however, seem concerned as he stepped over a root while looking at Aren. Obviously Lord Worl knew the land very well. Aren had spent most of her childhood years in the same area, yet she could not say that she had that same confidence walking her father's lands.
“I did,” Aren said. “He was perfectly accepting of that fact, said he would negotiate the price anyhow.”
“Too bad.” Lord Worl sighed. “I was really hoping to get three thousand for this plot. Lord Jer is a hard bargainer, I just don't know.”
Aren stopped as Lord Worl did. “What do you mean?”
“I don't know if I can do it.”
“If you can sell to me? Why not?”
“I need the three thousand,” Lord Worl said. “You must understand Lady Aren, that is as low as I can go. There are men who will burn my estate to the ground, if I don't get that three thousand. My father passed his debts on to me, as well as his lands. Perhaps we should go back to the palace, and I will look for another buyer.”
“If you need the three thousand so badly why would you go looking for another buyer?” Aren asked him. “Just show me the cottage, I'd buy the land even without the cottage. Besides Lord Jer surely knows the state of your lands, and would more likely be willing to settle for what you need, once he is told that it's you, that I am buying from.”
“He doesn't know you're buying from me?” Lord Worl asked.
“Is that a problem?” Aren asked.
“No, no problem, but you're right, if he did know it was me he would likely settle for what I need to get by, and I can accept that.” Lord Worl motioned. “The cottage is this way. Just round this bend here.”
They walked around the bend, and Aren was caught by the sight of the lake. The intake of breath was sudden and delighted. The land was exactly what she had always imagined she would live on. Gorgeous, wonderful, and not a single other cottage seen across, or around, the lake. She turned ever so slightly, away from the bend, and looked over the land.
While it was within the immediate palace land, this was an area large enough and so sparsely populated that Aren could get lost wandering the woods. The whole landscaped looked as if it were untouched by man.
Except that one person standing in that tree.
Aren managed to keep from stiffening as she caught sight of the person, their head down, chin touching their chest. Clothing ragged and torn, feet bare, the person did not look up as Aren opened her senses. Something felt wrong, the moment she opened herself to the landscape she knew that, there was something terribly wrong.
She turned to Lord Worl, who stood in a little clearing, blade in hand.
“Sorry to disappoint, but there's no cottage.”
Remembering her training, Aren dodged Lord Worl as he came at her. The man was a lord, not a common person. He had men to fight his battles for him and wasn't as fast as Aren. Mar had insisted the pair of them receive the same training as the new guards, especially in recent months. Aren might not be able to hold her own against a warrior, but Lord Worl was just a man.
“That damned Av and his insisting on training you whores!” Lord Worl shouted in frustration. “That's fine, I always catch you. Eventually. There's no place you can run, no where you can go, that I won't find you. Then I'll have my fun with you, like I did all the others.”
Aren let herself loose. Let her being flood the clearing. Her fear and panic caught the wind, carried off. Lord Worl looked around him, confused. He turned t
his way and that as if searching for something that he couldn't quite see.
“What's that, what are you doing? Stop it, stop making the lights... Stop it!” he shouted, covering his eyes with his arms and beginning to scream.
“This way,” Aren heard a whisper on the shifting wind. “Come this way.”
Running towards the voice, Aren crashed through the bushes, knowing that it would be easy for the lord to follow her. She ran until the path suddenly appeared before her, then stopped, cocked her head and listened.
“Over here,” several people whispered as one. “This way.”
Aren ran, the cave coming into sight, and she saw it, but she also heard Lord Worl behind her, crashing through the brush, shouting obscenities at her. She darted into the cave and ran until she hit the back of it with a smack. Nose and face hurting Aren sank down, turning and pressing her back against the cold stone. At the mouth of the cave Lord Worl paused and peered in, squinting into the darkness. She was too far back. He could not see her.
The lord stepped back from the cave and Aren breathed a sigh of relief. She could not see the inside of the cave herself, could not see the floor or ceiling, but she could see the exit. All she needed to do was wait for him to leave, and then run, though where she could run to, Aren was uncertain.
She forced herself to breathe normally, for her heart to still. Slowly her body recovered from the run. Not sleeping had been a mistake, she knew that now. Had she slept, she would have been able to run faster and farther, might have been able to put an end to Worl, then and there. But then, she knew with absolute certainty, Lord Worl would have been thinking more clearly as well.
“Come out you whore!” he shouted to the mouth of the cave. “You can't stay in there forever. The voices will make you come out sooner or later and I'd rather your mind be whole enough to understand what I do to you. Come out of there! Where else could you have gone? Come out!”
“No,” Aren said so quietly she barely realized she was speaking. “No, I will not.”