Ravien lifted her brow at the mention of her brother.
“I said I would not think of him, didn’t I?” Lorien asked.
“Let’s not compare them,” Ravien said. “Tryst will recover, and I believe he will help Andor in the end. We need both of them. More than that, we need them working together. Remember what our father said on his death bed?”
Lorien nodded. Her father had looked so weak. Covered in a light sheet, his body was half its normal size, pale and fragile. Where a huge, powerful man had once laid, a shriveled body had rasped out its last breaths, under the weight of poison from an unknown source. He had called his two daughters forward before he said his last words to his son. The words to his daughters had shaken Lorien then, and they still did.
I leave Tryst in your keeping. He needs your protection, not from those outside, but from what’s inside. Love him, and make sure Andor stays close to him. Andor would be the better prince. My son should never have the throne.
“Is that what’s been driving you all these years?” Lorien asked.
“Among other things, yes. I think father was right. He always did have a talent for prediction.”
“He predicted this night.” Lorien looked into the mirror.
“Truly?” Her sister asked with a rare hint of surprise. “He predicted that you would marry Andor? You were so young, and he was five years older than you. What did father say?”
Lorien smiled at the memory. “Father told me, years before Andor became prince, that I must be kind to Andor. I was fifteen at the time. It was a strange statement, so I asked him why. He was wearing that wry old smile that stretched over his entire face. He knelt down to me and whispered, ‘Lorien, you will marry Andor. I have seen it in both of your eyes. Trust me.’ I told him that a potential prince would never marry me when he could have anyone he wanted. Father laughed at that and scooped me up into a great bear hug. Despite what I said then, I took his words to heart.”
“So you did,” Ravien said. “I wish father were here to see you tonight. He would be proud.”
“Proud of both of us.” Lorien smiled at her sister. “But I think he would be confused to see you wearing black.”
Ravien shrugged her lean, bare shoulders. “At least it is a dress, rather than leather. Besides, if someone were to spot me after the wedding, it would be a shame for me to give away that the happiest occasion in a long time is happening tonight.”
“True,” Lorien said. “Besides, you might look odd in any other color. It might confuse your merchant suitor.”
“He is sharp enough to figure it out.” Ravien kept her face stoic.
“His humor will do you good, sister.”
A knock on the door interrupted them.
“Wren! Please come in!” Lorien flashed a grin at her sister.
“Thank you, my lady,” Wren said and bowed low. “You look stunning and,” his gaze shifted to Ravien, “ravishing.” He stepped closer and took the darker sister’s hand. “All is ready. Are you?”
“Yes,” both sisters said.
“Then it is time.”
Wren led them out into the summer night. A chorus of insects and frogs heralded their approach to a small barn on the bank of the River Tyne. The barn was built of river stones, covered in ivy, and hardly big enough to hold a dozen horses.
Father Yates was standing at the entrance. He leaned against the worn wooden doorway. As usual, he wore a plain brown robe and a smile.
“The wedding party has arrived!” Yates bowed and made way for Ravien and Wren to enter. They slid through the cracked door, and Yates pulled Lorien gently to the side.
“What is it, father?” Lorien tried to sound calm. She had heard so little from Andor. He had sent her a message that the wedding would have to be hidden and brief. She accepted the wisdom of that, but she had many unanswered questions.
“All is well,” Yates said. “Andor is doing as well as we could hope, but he will have great need for you in the days to come. I believe no other man could have survived what he did.”
“What exactly did he survive?” Lorien asked.
“That is not for me to say. Andor wanted me to assure you that he will tell you everything, and that his love for you is as strong as it ever was. It is important to have the ceremony now, while you can, before more dangers come.”
Lorien nodded. She did not like knowing so little, but she would not cower at the uncertainty. She would trust Andor.
“Come,” Yates held out his arm, “I will escort you in.”
As they walked through the door, the brightness and the faces overwhelmed Lorien. The tiny building was packed. It was lit by candles glimmering along the walls and the ancient wooden rafters above. The soft light shone on the faces of maybe fifty people crammed into the space. Many were friends she had not seen in months, all of them loyal to Andor.
Andor stood at the far end of the room. Wren was at his side. Once Lorien’s eyes met his, everything else melted away. His presence was commanding, like that of a god among men in the golden light of the room.
She walked down the makeshift aisle to him. He reached out his hands as she stepped to his side. He looked at her with the same intensity she remembered. He swept her into his arms and held tight, as if he would never let go.
“Lorien,” he eventually said, kneeling before her. “Will you marry me?”
She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Yes, Andor.”
The guests cheered until Father Yates raised his arms to commence the ceremony. He began to recite the rite of marriage. Lorien and Andor said their vows, sealing themselves together. As Yates declared them man and wife, Andor pulled her close and touched his lips to hers.
The crowd erupted in cheers again. Andor squeezed her hand and nodded, signaling that he would speak to the guests. She turned with him to face the room. Andor raised his hand, holding it high until the room was still again.
“You are good to come, friends. We would not be here without you. Lorien and I owe you our deepest thanks. There is a steep road ahead, but let’s take this time to recognize the good work that you all have done, much of it hidden from each other, to bring us to this special night.”
“We give thanks to Scarlett and the women of her network of inns. They hosted Ravien and me in secret rooms as we made our escape from the mountains to Valemidas.”
In the back of the room, three beautiful women in immodest dresses bowed deeply. Lorien had never seen them before. She would not have forgotten women like that.
“We give thanks to Ulysses, Tel, and their knights,” Andor continued, “who worked without anyone’s knowledge to monitor and keep Lorien safe in Valemidas. They held back Ramzi without inciting a rebellion before it was ready.”
Ulysses, Tel, and the men around them beamed in response. Lorien recognized some of their faces as the men who had escorted her visitors in recent weeks.
“We give thanks to Pikeli, who learned who I was and, against his usual manner, kept quiet, and told his squire to do the same.”
A slight, average-looking man hopped up and down in the middle of the room. “You hide as well as a giant in a room of ants!” He said to Andor. “And you better take down Ramzi. That man has banned direct inquiries to the prince. How is a talker like me supposed to express himself? And one other thing—”
His squire elbowed him in the side. “You all now see the impressiveness of this man’s restraint for me.” Andor joked, and the room filled with laughter. Andor held his hand up again.
“We give thanks to Sebastian. He was our spy and our distracting agent. My foe would have known of me much earlier if not for him. He handled Ramzi and brought my bride to me, earning the first part of his reward.”
The foreign man nodded grimly. Lorien felt a shiver run down her spine—she was beyond thankful for his help, but he had spoken hardly a word as he rescued her from the palace. He was a man of dangerous power. It made her uneasy that she had no idea what the first, much less second, part
of his reward would be.
“You have my word, Sebastian, that I will deliver on my promise.” Lorien felt Andor’s grip on her hand tighten. Sebastian bowed in response. The expression on his face never changed.
“We give thanks to Selia, who hosted me and then helped Lorien build my support here in Valemidas without detection. The wives of many men have been whispering in their ears of my imminent return.”
The bright woman curtsied in the first row. “Anything to stop this mess of laws mandating head-to-toe dark clothes. I need my flare,” she laughed and spun. Her yellow and orange dress swirled around her, again leaving Lorien impressed that a woman like her could manage a resistance movement in secrecy. She supposed it was like hiding in plain sight.
“We give thanks to Father Yates. He is a rock of truth in this world. He nourished me when I was at my lowest. I would not be here, if not for him.”
The old priest smiled. “The light shines through you, Prince Andor. You have faced despair and felt the touch of light. Continue to seek it, and you will grow. If you grow, we will all be ruled in justice and righteousness.”
Andor nodded solemnly, then turned to Wren.
“Last, and far from least, we give thanks to Wren and Jon. They have been my friends for life, but with a deeper bond now. They stayed loyal when many fell away. They risked everything they had earned to accompany me on the journey. They served their roles like mighty men. Words cannot do justice to their feats.”
“Jon could not be with us tonight. You all know him as one who could vanquish any foe but who offers kindness instead. While we celebrate here, he stays close to Tryst, as is his duty. He fought valiantly at Tryst’s side in Icaria. He serves on the Knight’s Council, but remains loyal to us. I wish he were here now, but his absence is one of our greatest securities, and a key to our victory.”
“Finally, Wren, the shrewd trader, who left the business he mastered to join me. Your mind cut through to the best plans, and your gold funded it all. For your service and friendship, I am indebted.”
“And now to began repaying,” Andor announced the crowd, “I give the stage to Wren and Ravien.” Lorien saw puzzled looks on the guest’s faces, much like her own.
“When Ravien and I traveled together,” Andor said to Wren, “she told me of your encounters, and how her amusement with a merchant grew into something more. I wish the best for you.”
“Another wedding!” Father Yates announced. The confused murmur in the crowd turned into applause as Andor led Lorien to Ravien’s side, and Wren stepped to the spot where Andor had been.
Ravien turned and embraced her sister. “I wanted to tell you,” she said. “Wren proposed just yesterday. We thought it would be better not to distract you before your own wedding.”
“I wish I could say I am surprised that my sister hid something from me,” Lorien said. “But I could think of no better secret.”
Wren beamed proudly and took Ravien’s hands.
Father Yates began the second marriage ceremony. As he spoke the ritual words again, Lorien thought about the pair. Ravien was the elusive princess. Wren was the sharp man of the world. She was the dark mystery. He was the trading savant. They were both like assassins, her in royal politics and him in mercantile plotting. The differences in their facades faded compared to what was underneath. Lorien still had questions, but their union was sure to bring excitement.
The ceremonies ended as they began, with cheers and joy. Father Yates encouraged the guests to celebrate at the Morning Crest, an inn where neither knights nor nobles would be found, but still to speak no word of what had happened here. He then led the couples outside.
“My deepest congratulations to you four.” He touched each of their foreheads as a blessing, and then said his farewell.
The couples parted and Andor took Lorien’s hand and led her along the River Tyne, further away from Valemidas. The song of katydids filled the night, and fireflies hovered above the glistening river. Ahead a dark figure rested on a slender boat at the water’s edge.
“I see you, Andor,” said the man.
“You are hidden from my sight as always, Sebastian.”
“Out of sight, out of mind. All is ready.”
They were quiet as they boarded and as Sebastian rowed across the broad river. Once they were half way across, Lorien could see the lights of Valemidas far off, raised up like a torch in the midnight landscape.
As they drew close to the south shore, Sebastian dragged the boat to land. Andor stepped out, and before she could protest, swept her up into his arms. They both laughed as he climbed up the bank. Sebastian stayed behind on guard.
“Why not start with you in my arms?” Andor asked as he ascended.
“Because I can very well walk myself!” Lorien settled into a relaxed pose as she looked up into his eyes. “But I will let you whisk me away this once.”
Andor carried her uphill to the surface of a large stone looming twenty feet above the river below. A structure the size of a small room sat atop it.
“How did you—?” Lorien gasped upon seeing it. It had obviously been hauled up in pieces, and it looked like a mini-castle. Four posts rose from the corners, and stones had been stacked to form low walls around it. Candles burned in nooks along the inside of the walls. A feathered bed formed the floor, and the moon and stars provided the ceiling.
Andor laid her gently on the bed. “Hope for this night preserved me while I was away,” he said as he joined her.
They had been apart for so long, but their bodies felt like home beside each other. She took hold of his arm and ran her fingers along the scars. “You still have not told me what happened to you. Yates hinted at things, but he held back much. Andor, please tell me.”
“The memories are painful, my love.” Andor sighed uneasily as if his thoughts were drifting to the past. “I feel like I conquered death to get out of the Gloaming. I was brought to nothing down there, resigned to die. Then a man named Lucian died to save me. It somehow helped me glimpse a divine light. The Gloaming is horrific and miserable, crushing and senseless, but Lucian’s sacrifice is what it took to make me understand.”
Lorien studied her new husband’s face. She had always respected him, more than any person she had ever met. Now his quiet and calm demeanor made his natural gifts seem all the more powerful. She waited for him to continue speaking.
“I will of course tell you more,” he said, “but my focus now is on prevailing in this first battle. What comes after that is harder.”
“What comes next is restoring our city to what it once was. Why is that harder?”
“Restoration is much harder than destruction.” Andor’s voice was measured as he looked into Lorien’s eyes. “We must restore Tryst. Lorien, I must tell you what I believe will be next. After Tryst falls, we will cast him down to the Gloaming. I will tend to Valemidas in the following days, but soon after I must go down there for him, to try to bring him back.”
Lorien could not suppress her surprise but she also could not doubt his sincerity. “I feared that you would have grown more harsh. I did not expect you to soften toward the man who betrayed you.”
“Our love for Tryst, the fallen man that he is, requires that we give him the same opportunity I had in the Gloaming.”
“Love for Tryst?” Lorien asked flatly. “Whatever familial love he had from me is lost. You cannot love him after what he did to you.” She traced the outlines of his brow and cheekbones. “It inspires me to hear of your escape, but you cannot sacrifice yourself for him. He is not worth it. I will not have your life traded for his again.”
“We both loved Tryst before. He has been corrupted under Ramzi’s guidance, but I believe he can be brought back. He would not have rebelled against me if not for Ramzi’s poisonous words seeping into his mind. It would be a shame to lose the great man deep down in Tryst.”
“What Tryst once was matters less than what we are going to be. The risk will be too great.”
“If we
are going to be the restorers of our people and servants of the light, then I must do this.” His face was patient, imploring. “I have come back once from the Gloaming, and I will come back again.”
“I might believe you if you were not going down there for Tryst. It will be hard enough to depose him here in Valemidas. If we succeed in that, he will harbor even deeper hate for you. Meeting him in the Gloaming is a death wish.”
“He will be weakened down there. After a week of starvation, he will be ready to mend his ways. Ravien assures me that he is open to change. She would not have helped me if she did not believe that, and I would not be here if she had not helped me.”
“My sister put you up to this?”
“Your sister is responsible for me being here today, and her only condition was that I not cast away my prior respect for her brother, and yours. If Tryst listens to me, I come back with him. If he does not, I come back alone. Either way, I will return to you.”
The words of Lorien’s father echoed in her mind. Love him, and make sure Andor stays close to him. She believed that her father’s son was lost and gone forever, replaced by a backstabbing tyrant, but she could not disregard her father’s charge, nor Andor’s conviction. The weeks of plotting were ingrained on his face.
She closed her eyes as the truth sank in. She admired his commitment, even if she feared its result. The pain would tear her apart if she lost him again. And yet, she would not stand in the way of this. Despite the many words that had not yet passed between them, she sensed their love was stronger than ever. Choosing courage in the face of fear, she resolved to support Andor, come what may, and to live fully in this moment.
“If you do not return,” she said, climbing up onto his chest, “I will come after you, and you do not want that. You are mine, and I will not allow you to be lost in a prison cave.”
“I will not be lost again.” Andor smiled up at her. “I have seen the light, and it has brought me to you.”
The touch of their lips silenced the talk. The night was still young.
Light in the Gloaming (The Gloaming Book One) Page 22