Destiny of the Light: Shadow Through Time 1

by Louise Cusack

  Khatrene blinked and turned to Talis. ‘You’re not going with them?’ she asked.

  He took a moment to speak. ‘My duty is to escort the White Princess to her brother.’

  ‘But … this is your girlfriend, your …’

  BETROTHED.

  ‘Your betrothed.’

  He nodded. Something scary was happening behind his eyes but Khatrene wasn’t frightened by it. Even angry, Talis had the ability to make her feel safe.

  ‘So, what’s going to happen?’ she asked.

  Laroque cleared his throat and turned to explain to his Princess. ‘The King’s Counsel has ordered —’

  ‘Nothing which the White Princess cannot over-rule,’ Talis put in softly.

  Both Laroque and Khatrene turned to face him.

  ‘Pardon?’ she said.

  ‘Nephew, I do not think —’ Laroque began but Talis wasn’t listening.

  ‘Only the King may contravene the will of the White Princess,’ he said, his voice growing in confidence. ‘Should she order me to accompany you, Uncle, I would have no leave but to obey her.’

  ‘Obey me?’ Khatrene was having trouble keeping up with the conversation.

  Laroque frowned at Talis, then both men turned their gaze on her. Expectantly.

  ‘Princess?’ Talis prompted.

  She looked from one to the other, then shook her head. ‘I was a passenger a minute ago. I don’t think you should drag me into this.’

  ‘Perhaps not,’ Talis said, ‘but if you do not order me to go, my betrothed may die.’

  Khatrene and Talis stared at each other for several seconds before she said, ‘Oh. I see.’

  Laroque glanced at his nephew, then back to his Princess. ‘You must do as your conscience dictates, My Lady.’

  ‘My conscience?’ She didn’t know whether to laugh hysterically or cry hysterically. She was too tired to be making life and death decisions. What she needed was a nap.

  Talis touched her arm, his large, rough fingers closing over her pale flesh. When his eyes met hers, they were just as gentle. ‘Decide with your heart, Princess,’ he said, ‘and you will do no ill.’

  Khatrene nodded. ‘My heart. Right.’

  Help me here, she asked, and to her everlasting relief, the voice replied immediately.

  YOU KNOW WHAT MUST BE DONE.

  But what about Mihale?

  YOU WILL SEE YOUR BROTHER SOON ENOUGH.

  And really, what choice did she have? What choice had Talis given her? Damn him. ‘All right, I order you to go,’ she said before she could change her mind. Talis barely had time to sigh with relief before she added, ‘But I’m going too.’

  Laroque shook his head. ‘This was the very thing which I —’

  She swung on her heel to march off but Talis was already moving.

  ‘My Lady!’ He stepped in front of her, cutting her off. ‘You must let another Guardian escort you to your brother. There could be danger’

  ‘Oh really?’ She gave him an interested glance. ‘You want it all your own way?’

  Talis opened his mouth, closed it again.

  She said, ‘Like it or not, you are my Champion and I’m staying with you.’ She glanced at Laroque. ‘He has to obey me, doesn’t he?’

  Laroque nodded solemnly. ‘Most certainly, Princess,’ he said. ‘As we all do.’

  ‘I must remember that,’ she said, thinking of Pagan. Then she glanced back at Talis. ‘So it’s settled. We’re all going.’

  He didn’t like it. Not one bit. But then again, neither did she.

  ‘My Lady,’ he said at last, civilly enough, but she could tell there was a whole lot more he wanted to say.

  The next few miles were trudged in prickly silence, on both sides. Khatrene wouldn’t look in Talis’s direction and he simply kept pace with her as they reached the end of the Plain and started into some vegetation which Khatrene was surprised to hear called a ‘forest’. There weren’t any trees, just tall, fungus growths with knobbly pineapple-skinned trunks rising out of a sea of fat, furry, tumbleweed shrubs. She searched in vain for green but found only brown. A whole spectrum of shades from cream through to dark chocolate. But still only brown.

  She couldn’t imagine what sort of weird creatures lived in a place like this. Slithery things? Creepy furry things like cat-sized spiders? She crossed her arms over her chest and kept walking, forcing her tired legs forward. Pagan was behind her somewhere and she was damned if she was going to give him the satisfaction of patronising her over her ‘womanly frailty’. But her feet really hurt.

  At least she didn’t have to carry anything. That was a plus.

  Dragging her gaze from the brown forest, she looked down into her empty pink palm with its pattern of darker pink creases and tracery of blue veins.

  ‘I don’t belong here,’ she said softly, then realised she’d spoken aloud.

  Side of sight, she saw Talis glance at her but he said nothing. She pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans and kept walking. She’d have to watch herself. Years of thinking aloud because there was no-one to talk to but a mother lingering between life and death hadn’t taught her to guard her tongue. On Ennae, the safest place to air her thoughts would be inside her mind.

  What am I doing here? she asked the voice.

  YOU CAME TO ENNAE TO BE WITH YOUR BROTHER.

  No, I mean here. Why did I insist that we go off and rescue Lae first?

  BECAUSE YOU ARE REMEMBERING WHAT IT IS TO BE A PRINCESS, TO MAKE HONOURABLE CHOICES.

  Oh. That made her feel a little better, but not much.

  Nightfall found them in a clearing surrounded by the ever-present haze. A fire was made and dinner started before she saw Laroque again.

  ‘How far away is this Shrine?’ she asked, still angry enough with Talis not to want to ask him.

  ‘Three days’ march, My Lady,’ Laroque replied, flicking a glance at Talis who stood silent beside her.

  Khatrene wriggled her aching toes in her boots. ‘Are we walking all the way?’

  Laroque frowned. ‘You prefer to be carried, My Lady?’

  ‘No.’ She looked down at her filthy boots, ‘I can walk. I just thought you guys would have horses or something.’

  Silence greeted her comment and she glanced up, surprised to find both men staring at her with blank expressions.

  ‘Horses. Riding animals.’ She looked from one man to the other. ‘Four legs. Hooves. Mane and tail.’

  ‘Four legs?’ Talis looked down at his own two.

  ‘You know, riding.’ Khatrene mimicked a trot, pulling on imaginary reins and making a neighing sound.

  The men looked at each other and then back at her.

  Pagan strolled over from where the other warriors were hunkered down beside the odd, bronze-flamed fire. ‘My Lady is dancing?’ he asked. The grin on his face said he wanted to join in.

  Khatrene frowned to discourage him. Despite the fact that he’d made her laugh he really was an irksome creature. Once again his hair looked freshly brushed, though devoid of the Royal Guard’s trademark warrior plaits which he would not be allowed to wear until his apprenticeship ended. Still, the mere fact that he was better groomed than she was got her back up, and apparently she wasn’t the only one. Talis also shot Pagan a dark look and Khatrene was pleased to see her Champion sharing his ill humour and not saving it all for her.

  ‘I’m not dancing,’ she said to Pagan. ‘It’s a chara
de. A pointless charade.’ She turned back to Laroque. ‘You’re telling me you walk everywhere?’

  ‘My Lady, yes. And those who cannot walk are carried.’

  ‘You have no animals for riding?’

  ‘I do not know these … animals.’

  ‘Animals are … creatures that are not human.’

  THERE ARE NO ANIMALS ON ENNAE.

  ‘There are no animals on Ennae?’ she echoed stupidly to the three men facing her. ‘No birds? No insects even?’ Mihale had never mentioned that. Not once.

  ‘Only people inhabit Ennae, My Lady,’ Talis said.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of a certainty,’ he said.

  ‘Then what do you use for —’ Khatrene dropped a hand to her belly, ‘Oh,’ and pulled a face. ‘If there are no animals, what was the chewy stuff in that stew we had for lunch. It wasn’t …’

  ‘Plainsmen?’ Pagan’s eyes were all innocence. ‘But, My Lady, they are not fit for more than —’

  Talis took one step forward and reefed his cousin around to face him. ‘Do not toy with the Princess Khatrene, apprentice.’

  Laroque ignored them. ‘We do not eat each other My Lady. My son jests.’

  ‘Poorly,’ Talis added, his hand still on Pagan’s upper arm. Khatrene saw him squeeze.

  ‘Excuse my humour. Princess,’ Pagan said quickly, his apology spoilt by a gleam of mockery in his eyes. ‘I would not upheave your delicate diges —’ He jerked then as though Talis had squeezed him even harder. ‘Upset, My Lady. I would not upset your delicate digestion. The substance in question was ort, a thick moss. It is easily dried and travels well.’ This last was said all in a rush.

  Talis growled and released his cousin with a shove. Pagan, apparently knowing when he’d pushed his luck too far, gave a quick bow and retreated, risking a last cheeky wink on the way.

  Khatrene couldn’t help smiling. ‘Idiot.’ But when she turned back to Talis he was frowning at her and she found herself frowning back.

  Laroque bowed. ‘I leave you in your Champion’s care, My Lady.’ He stepped away and Khatrene suddenly realised how tired she was. Too tired to argue any more. Her chest muscles ached from all the vomiting she’d done, her legs and feet were a disaster area and the emotional drama of watching people fight and die had left her feeling drained.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry if I’m being difficult,’ she said to Talis, rubbing her forehead and pushing back the hair that had fallen from her makeshift ponytail. ‘I’m not used to you and you’re not used to me.’

  Talis lowered his head in what could have been a bow. ‘You are not the same Princess I cared for as a child. I have had to adjust.’

  ‘I keep forgetting you knew me.’ Not the same Princess. So he was making comparisons. ‘I suppose I was sweet and compliant then,’ she fished.

  His expression softened. ‘A sweeter child never drew breath.’

  Ouch. Khatrene looked away. Well, she’d asked for that. Then she glanced again at Talis who stood patiently in front of her, waiting for her next command. Was he resentful? He didn’t look it.

  The men had washed the battle from their bodies in a waterhole Talis had declared ‘unsafe’ for his Princess, and as a consequence, while she was still covered in dust, her Champion’s long dark hair shone softly in the firelight. His smooth olive skin was clean enough for her to see that Pagan’s dimples were hereditary. Talis was so serious, though, it seemed unlikely to her that anyone ever saw them. She suddenly found that she wanted to see them.

  ‘I haven’t made your job very easy, have I?’ she asked.

  Talis said nothing and she realised there was probably nothing polite he could say.

  She held up a hand. ‘You’re right. That was a stupid question. What I wanted to say was …’ She paused, then glanced at him, daunted by the fact that his expression was completely blank.

  ‘I wanted to tell you that I really like you,’ she said, a little too quickly. ‘You make me feel safe and that’s important to me at the moment. To feel safe.’

  Talis made no reply to this awkward statement and seconds ticked by ponderously. She began to wonder if she’d breached some custom. Maybe a Princess wasn’t allowed to express gratitude to her Champion. Or maybe it was because he was betrothed?

  ‘I mean that professionally of course,’ she added. ‘You’re very good at what you do and you make me feel safe and … I’ve already said that.’ She covered her eyes with her hand for a second, then looked at him again. ‘Could you just show me where I’m supposed to sleep?’

  He nodded and directed her to a place away from where the men were camped around the fire. A bundle of stringy moss had been covered with a rough cloth, and after Khatrene settled herself onto it, Talis draped his cloak over her.

  ‘Thanks.’ She wasn’t game to look at him for fear of embarrassing herself again. Yet as he walked away she couldn’t stop herself saying, ‘Are you leaving me here? Alone?’

  He turned back. ‘No, My Lady. I will watch over you from a distance, as is fitting.’ He settled his back against the broad trunk of one of their ‘trees’, a stunted yellow fungus growth with matchstick branchings and spiky black thorns.

  ‘Okay. Thanks.’ She snuggled back under the cloak and sighed, her eyes drooping shut. Being a Princess was harder than she would have thought. And she’d only been at it for a day. She shifted, trying to make herself comfortable. The moss beneath her crackled like Rice Bubbles and questions buzzed around inside her brain but bone weariness caught up with her before she could pursue answers.

  I feel so relaxed.

  THE SCENT OF YOUR CHAMPION ENVELOPES YOU EVEN AS HIS CLOAK DOES.

  She smiled to herself. Yeah, it’s nice. He’s nice.

  BUT NOT THE ONE.

  And as Khatrene drifted into sleep, she saw in her mind the man she had dreamt of every night since her mother’s death. The man with the tattooed face, in whose gaze lay such passion and tenderness that she fell completely under his spell.

  Yet even as she was losing herself in his eyes, she was aware of a new overlay to the vision. It suddenly appeared … familiar. Not the man, but the background, which she had never consciously realised lacked colour. Now it was easily identified as the brown landscape of Ennae.

  All of which meant only one thing. Her dream man was here, and he was real.

  *

  Talis stared at his Princess, thinking a bumbling child could have done better than he had this day. Where Pagan had made her laugh, Talis’s words lay as heavily on her heart as the frown that marked her perfect brow. Seemingly without effort he had insulted and offended her, and to have argued with her as disobediently as his anger had led him to, she must think him completely lacking in discipline.

  Instead of duty and honour, his heart held only confusion. Remembering how he had felt on first holding her in his arms stirred up such longings that he felt ashamed to look at her. Yet his duty to his betrothed remained strong.

  Lae, whom he had chosen as his wife, needed his protection and he was fiercely eager to give it. But at risk to the life of the White Princess? And what if she was more? If his uncle’s words were true and his Princess was indeed The Light, the woman foretold to bear a child with the power to join the Four Worlds? Dare he take any action that might risk her safety?

  Talis closed his eyes, seeking peace in the darkness. Yet even that thought brought the Princess to his mind; the need for solace coming accompanied, as it so often had since the
death of his father, by the recollection of a small hand clasping his. Was this the glue that bound him to the Princess? Not a threat to his betrothal, but a remnant of their shared past?

  Talis prayed that it was. To harbour any other thought save duty towards the White Princess would only destroy him.

  Yet as he opened his eyes to look on her sleeping form, turbulence stirred in him again. And this he must fight, knowing there could be no honour in him while his soul was torn between the memories of a child, the beauty of a woman and the destiny of a legend.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Deep below Castle Be’uccdha, in the glittering majesty of the Altar Caves, The Dark’s Guard Captain Mooraz stood waiting for his Lord’s reaction to the news he had brought. Below their balcony, the faithful gathered for The Dark’s morning devotions, their rhythmic murmuring in the hollow chamber not unlike the sound of the Everlasting Ocean far above.

  ‘She is not hiding?’ The Dark repeated.

  ‘My Lord, no,’ Mooraz replied, keeping his head lowered, fearing that the eyes of The Dark which could read men’s souls would see that his Guard Captain was not offering all the truth. ‘I believe your daughter fled the castle on a pilgrimage to her mother’s resting place.’ At this point Mooraz should add that his young lady’s secret Cliffdweller playmate had been the unexpected herald of this news, but a revelation that the Lady Lae was still seeing Hush despite her father’s express orders to the contrary would not be well received.

  ‘What proof is there of this flight?’ The Dark demanded, returning a crystal goblet to the tray at his side and waving the attendant away.

  Mooraz slowly raised his head, hoping that the honour of his service towards the daughter of The Dark would purify any transgression against his Lord’s will. For indeed, though The Dark would desire a less lowly playmate for his daughter than a Cliffdweller girl, Mooraz knew there was no harm in the friendship. Thus he found the courage to meet his Lord’s eyes which were framed by the right-face tattoo marking him a Lord of Be’uccdha.