Riding past villages and farmland, Rowan breathed in deeply of the early spring air, cool but with a promise of warm weather and budding crops. How he loved his country, every hamlet and city. Avador must remain at peace. He would do all in his power to assure that outcome.
* * *
After Rowan Leinster left, Allegra fought to control her emotions. In spite of her efforts, tears flowed down her cheeks. She brushed them away, well aware that tears would gain her nothing. She must not show any weakness, nor feel any faintheartedness.
Tired of being shunted from one place to another and letting other people dominate her, she vowed that from here on, she would be her own mistress. She would determine her own destiny and make her own decisions. And if Rowan Leinster thought he could manage her, he had a surprise coming.
She resolved to return to Fomoria and avenge her parents’ deaths. But how? She was just one woman, and an exile, besides. Yet despite her years away from her country, she knew that the people of Fomoria were–had been–loyal to the king and queen. Oh, yes, she recognized that there was still a war faction in Fomoria, ambitious men who wanted to continue the war with Elegia. But both countries had declared a truce; to renew the war would undo all the good the armistice had obtained, all the good that her father had accomplished. Too many men on both sides had lost their lives in this war.
She recalled years ago hearing her father and mother discuss a distant cousin who had a legitimate claim to the throne through his mother. What had happened to him,? she wondered., How did he fit into the scheme of things? Did he support the war faction? Surely not, for if he cared about his country, he would want to see it at peace.
And that’s what I want, she vowed, ! More than anything, she longed to see a prosperous country, where no one starved and all men had a livelihood. A country free of war.
But first, she must avenge her parents’ assassination. She saw a long, hard road ahead, but she would let nothing stand in her way!.
Chapter Three
“Rowan, when do you intend to be hand-fasted?”
“I’ve thought about it lately,” Rowan replied. He wondered why Donat Fand was asking him about his marital plans, as if the minister cared whom he wed.
He sat across from the minister, his mind working. “I need to find a woman who would make a suitable wife, a good companion who could help me with my career here at the Ministry.” He thought of his first wife, dead these many years, and wondered if anyone could replace her.
Yes, he needed to marry again, needed someone to help him advance in his career. Neala Dechtine, the daughter of the ambassador to Partholonia, came to mind. A lovely woman with silvery hair, she was intelligent and well-read, good company for a lonely man. She would surely make him a suitable wife, even if he didn’t love her. The ambassador from Galdina was holding a reception this evening; possibly he would see Neala there.
“I hope to marry again, and soon.”
Donat nodded. “Many suitable women here in Avador, daughters of ambassadors or well-connected daughters of prominent merchants or businessmen. But your wife must be from Avador. A foreign woman would not be appropriate. Actually, it’s not permitted by law.”
“Good to know.” Neala Dechtine came to mind again, a lovely woman if often a bit domineering.
Donat shuffled a few papers on his desk. “Normally, I don’t concern myself with the personal lives of my assistants. But lately I’ve had health problems,” he said, lightly touching his chest. “This position can be very demanding. For a long time now, I’ve had you in mind to replace me.” He nodded. “I intend to recommend you to the queen as my replacement whenever I retire.”
Rowan’s heart leaped, but just as quickly he berated himself. He admired Donat and regretted that he suffered a serious illness. “That means much to me, but I’d hate to see you leave. You’ve managed the Ministry of State quite ably and have kept the peace in Avador.”
“Thank you, but I am getting older and tired. I hope to return to my home in Ros Creda soon, devote more time to my family.” The minister smiled. “Now, you spoke of peace. We can thank Queen Keriam and Prince Roric for the peace we have enjoyed, and of course, King Tencien before them. May it remain so. Now, the Parholonian ambassador is hosting a party this evening. I trust you will attend?”
“I’ll be there.” And hoped to see Neala. Despite his nebulous plans of marriage, the prospect of seeing her didn’t thrill him.
* * *
The Partholonian ambassador’s residence was truly splendid, a three-story sandstone mansion of thirty rooms, one Rowan had always admired. The reception room held a crystal chandelier, where a host of candles burned. Candles in iron sconces throughout the room bestowed a warm glow on the vast marble-floored space where hundreds of men and women had gathered.
Gold goblet in hand, Rowan sipped dry wine and surveyed the room, recognizing many of the guests. Dressed in silks and furs, their jewels gleaming, the guests mingled in groups, their voices rising and falling. Sounds of laughter carried throughout the room.
A strong musk scent drew his attention to a woman who approached him from the right. “Rowan, I haven’t seen you for a long time.”
He grinned. “Not since last moonphase.”
Clad in a gown of deep blue satin, Neala was as beautiful as ever, her gown revealing ample cleavage. Diamonds glittered from her silvery tresses, her hair arranged in an upswept style.
She waved her beringed hand. “That doesn’t count, only a few minutes when we met by accident in Talmora’s Square.” Her voice was low and sultry, as if trying to seduce him. And was she? For some inexplicable reason, he didn’t care. She tapped his arm. “Word is that the Minister of State intends to name you as his successor.”
Rowan’s head jerked in her direction. “Where did you hear this?” How had word gotten beyond Donat Fand’s office?
“Here and there. It’s well-known that Fand thinks highly of you. Also well-known is the fact that he suffers from heart trouble and has been thinking of resigning his position.”
He pretended nonchalance. “Let’s hope that Donat Fand stays in his position for many more years.” He had to deflect the conversation. “How have you been? Are you planning anything special?”
“Actually, yes I am. I plan to journey to Galdina next nine-day to see the mountains and volcanoes.” She smiled. “I’ll be away for one moonphase. Will you miss me?” she asked with a sultry glance.
“Of course,” he answered with a smile. At least he hoped he would miss her. She was an engaging woman, but she failed to set his pulse racing.
A few minutes later, she walked away to seek out the ambassador to Elegia.
In the early hours of the morning, Rowan left the ambassador’s residence and headed for his apartment on Granno’s Way. The night air was cool and crisp, a light breeze whispering among the trees and bushes. Drifting clouds hid the moon and stars on the coal black night.
Marriage came to mind again. He needed a wife, he realized with a newfound regret for his single life. He needed a woman to come home to, to bear his children, someone to love until the end of time. But he didn’t love Neala. Should he wait until he found someone to love? No, that might never happen. He’d propose to Neala, he decided. If she refused him, it wouldn’t break his heart.
Chapter Four
Allegra looked out the rain-splashed window of her room at the palace and saw flashes of lightning in the distance, then heard the rumble of thunder. The weather matched her mood. Days had passed since her escape from Elegia to Avador, with little to occupy her time save desultory conversation with Elsa. She longed for her books or even her embroidery, a hobby at which she didn’t excel but one that at least kept her busy. More than anything, she wanted to go outside, explore the country, but especially go horseback riding, a skill taught her by a horseman at the court of Elegia. A woodsy area far to the east of the palace fascinated her, its trees so different from those in her country, she could tell even from where she s
tood. How she’d love to explore that area. She clenched her hands, tired of being cooped up inside. A few days ago, when Elsa fell asleep while reading, she had attempted to go outside for a walk. But the footman would not even open the door for her, would not permit her outside! She had refused to beg him and instead explored the palace. But she would not contend with this situation much longer. She would speak to Rowan Leinster next time he visited.
Mourning her mother and father and missing her country, she turned from the window. She recalled the happy times spent with her parents, who, truth to tell, indulged and spoiled their only child. Tears clotted her throat as childhood memories came back in a rush, joyous days spent with her parents and all her friends in Fomoria. In her mind’s eye, she saw the forested mountains of her native country as if she were there now, this very moment. She recalled the Fomorian winters, when snow layered the mountains and frigid temperatures chilled one to the bone. And spring, her favorite season as it was now in Avador, when flowers bloom and–
A knock on the door scattered her thoughts. Elsa opened the door, and Rowan Leinster stepped inside, his hair and clothes drenched with rain, a leather bag in his hand, a puddle forming at his feet. Despite her melancholy reflections, she found herself staring at him, wet clothes clinging to his hard-muscled body.
He made a slight bow. “My apologies for bringing the rain in with me, also for not visiting you sooner, Princess Allegra. Other, less pleasant duties demanded my time, but I surely didn’t mean to ignore you. Now,” he said, setting the bag on the floor, “it occurred to me that you might like certain diversions, such as games and books.”
“All well and good, sir. But when can I go outside? I’ve been kept a prisoner here.”
“Hardly that, my lady.”
“What else would you call it?” She related her attempt to go outside, watching the play of emotions across his face. Did he care?
“My lady, we are trying to protect you, keep you safe. We can’t permit you to go outside without an escort.”
Inwardly, she fumed but would keep the matter in abeyance for now, but not for long.
Elsa returned with two towels. “Sir, this may help you dry your hair and clothes. You can use the other one to set on a chair.”
“Ah, thank you.” He vigorously dried his hair, long brown strands that fell almost to his shoulders, then set the towel aside. “My lady, when the weather is not so inclement, we can go riding.”
She clapped her hands. “Good! I’d like to go riding every day.”
He frowned. “Nothing would make me happier, but I do have other obligations.”
She nodded. “Yes, I’m sure your position keeps you busy. Here, let’s sit down,” she said, leading him to a chair next to a table. She sat next to him. “Just what does your work entail?”
“Representing my country to other countries on the continent–Galdina, Partholonia, Elegia, and until recently, your own country of Fomoria. If one of the Avadoran citizens gets into trouble in another country, I go to his assistance. I also arrange for cultural exchanges between my country and another.”
From inside a trouser pocket, he brought out an envelope and handed it to her. “Just a welcoming letter from the Minister of State. I can translate it for you.”
“Later, this is my first chance in a long time for diversion. Politics can wait!” she said as she set the letter on a table.
He reached into the bag and brought out a piece of wood that opened out to reveal a checkered board. “We call this game fidchell, which means ‘wooden wisdom.’” He drew out two sets of men and set them on the board. “Have you ever played this game before?”
“No, sir.” She marveled at his fluency in the Fomorian language, spoken in that bass voice of his.
“Please call me Rowan.. I can show you how to play. First, we roll the dice.”
She liked his hands, tanned, like his face, and as the game progressed, she noted those muscular hands as he moved the pieces about. Enjoying his company, she easily caught on to
the game, a relief from her monotonous days. The time passed quickly, the game ending with her winning, although she suspected he’d let her win on purpose.
After he put the game away, he reached into the bag and brought out several books which he set on the floor. “You might like these, adventure stories written in your language.” He glanced her way. “Are there any other kind of books you might like?”
“Adventure novels are fine, but I like histories and biographies, if you have any written in my language.” She threw him a questioning look.
“I’ll look for them next time I go to the Treasury of Knowledge in the capital. I’ll do that just as soon as I can.”
She twisted the amethyst ring on her finger. “Tell me, sir–“
He smiled. “Rowan.”
“Tell me, Rowan, when do you think I can return to my country?”
He sighed. “I fear that may be a long time from now. The men who assassinated your parents control the government. It’s not safe to return now.”
“I must confess I don’t understand as much as I should about this war that went on for years. Remember I was very young when I was sent from my home. After the truce was signed between m-my father and the Elegian king, I thought there would be a lasting peace,
“So had we all hoped, my lady. Unfortunately, the usurpers have been scheming for a long time to renew hostilities. They don’t want peace.”
“Why not?” Tears filled her eyes as she fought for control, thinking of all she had loved and lost. She brushed her tears away. “Why does Elegia want this constant war?”
“Not just Elegia. Someone should have explained it to you, the reason for this continual fighting.” He paused, as if collecting his thoughts. “There is a disputed territory between your country and Elegia. It’s rich in gold mines, so both countries want this land. Your father signed a truce with the Elegian king that neither country would mine this territory. However, the temptation is too great for many. Just imagine all the things gold can buy! There is a war faction in your country that’s eager to gain control of the government and thus the gold mines. I fear more trouble will soon arise.”
She looked away for a moment, then returned her attention to him. “That wasn’t what I was told. I was told that Elegia was envious of Fomoria, and that’s why that country wanted war.” She sighed. “I weep for my country!” She turned away, fighting for composure, then spoke again. “If I were queen, I would appoint advisors to study the problem of the gold mines and meet with a similar group from Elegia. Surely the two groups could come to a compromise.”
He nodded. “A sensible solution.” He thought for a moment. “Can a woman inherit the throne in your country?”
“Only if there is no male heir. But I know I could rule as well as any man.” She paused. “My parents used to speak of a man who has a distant claim to the throne of Fomoria. What do
you know about him?”
Looking puzzled, he shook his head. “My lady, I know nothing about him. What is his name?”
“I don’t know. For reasons I’ve not understood, he was always referred to as ‘prince’ even though he was somewhat removed from the throne. Perhaps he could defeat the war faction and bring peace to my country. But if he can’t, I swear I will!”
* * *
Prince Arnou brooded inside a splendid castle, set deep in the northern forests of Fomoria. After the assassination of the king and queen, he’d realized he might well be the next victim of the war faction. Despite his worries, he smiled to himself. So far, things had gone his way. In the dead of night, he and his retainers had fled and found sanctuary in the Castle Vaden. From here, he planned to overthrow the war junta and work for his eventual ascendancy to the throne. His country had been bled dry by the perpetual war with Elegia. After King Covell had signed the truce with Elegia that had ended the war, everyone had breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone, that is, but these traitors who would stop at nothing–not even murder–
to gain control of the country and so renew the war.
He rubbed his chin, wondering where Princess Allegra was now. The last he’d heard, she lived in Elegia, where she’d been taken as a hostage years ago. But would she have remained in that country, with the possibility that war might erupt again? Not likely, but where was she now? If he could locate her, he would propose marriage to her. Once he had overthrown the usurpers—and he would defeat them–he and Allegra could rule together. How old was she, he wondered, nineteen, twenty? Surely she was of marriageable and childbearing age. At the age of twenty-five, it was time he married, too. Yes, the sooner he found her, the better for him and his country. He must overcome the war faction and bring peace to Fomoria.
But first, he must find Princess Allegra. He rang a bell on his desk. Immediately, the door opened.
“Sir?”
“Merle, I have a task for you. I want you to find Princess Allegra. The last I heard, she resided in the royal palace at Elegia, but I doubt if she has remained there. Take as many men as you need, but I want you to discover her location and bring her back to me.” He tossed him a bag of coins. “Bribe as many people as you need. As for the princess, use persuasion if you can, appealing to her love of country. Let us hope persuasion will work.” He frowned. “I’d hate to use more drastic measures.”
Chapter Five
How can I keep the princess safe? Rowan agonized. If the war faction in Fomoria was determined to find her–and he remained certain of that–they would stop at nothing to discover her location and assassinate her. Only a matter of time before someone found her sanctuary here in Avador. At his desk in the Hall of State, he tapped his fingers, his mind sifting ideas and plans. He turned and looked out the window, saw people strolling along the cobblestone streets, children clinging to their mothers.
Allegra's Dream (Avador Book 4, a Books We Love Fantasy Romance) Page 2