Ellenessia's Curse Book 1: The Shadow's Seer

by Fran Jacobs

  The statues of the garden were bathed in a white light cast from the moon and it felt as though their stone eyes were watching us as Trellany and I walked slowly down the path. The sound of our boots, crunching on the gravel underfoot, was the only sound in the darkness and that, with the thickness of the shadows cast by the statues, made me feel very anxious and uncomfortable. Trellany kept glancing around, squinting, as she tried to look ahead into the blackness, as well as behind the statues that lined the path. I knew that she was nervous and a part of me didn't blame her. There was something strange about all of this.

  "My feet hurt," I said, in a hushed voice, an attempt to break the silence.

  "If you wear boots for fashion rather than comfort then that will happen. You can't really be surprised," Trellany replied distractedly. I saw that she had her hand on the hilt of her sword.

  I swallowed nervously. "The garden is a different place in the night," I said. "I can barely see anything and the statues almost seem alive."

  "Yes," Trellany said, in that same distracted tone. She wasn't listening to me and I was on the verge of rambling. We walked on a little further and then Trellany stopped. "Where are you meeting your tutor?" she asked.

  "At the fountain," I replied.

  "That's in the middle," she murmured to herself. "It's going to be very dark there and it's a good distance from the castle." She looked up at me. "Why does your tutor want to see you out here?"

  "I told you before that he was looking for something for me, something I don't want my parents to know about. I think he may have found something and wanted us to meet out here where there is less chance of anyone seeing us."

  "And what is wrong with his quarters, or the library, or tomorrow morning to do all this?"

  "I don't know," I said. "I thought the same. I guess it must be really important if he wants to see me now, but I don't know why he suggested we come out here."

  Trellany shook her head. "That's it," she said. "I don't like this. If the garden was lit then perhaps it would be a different story, but it isn't. We are going back inside. Send a page down here to speak to your tutor. Tell him to come to your rooms, or that you'll see him tomorrow. I'm not prepared to take a step farther down this path." She took hold of my arm in a strong, vice-like grip as if she thought that I might protest. I had no intention of it. It was cold out and the darkness unnerved me. I would prefer to go back inside and have Lykeia come to me. No matter how curious I was about what he had to say, I did not want to be out here a moment longer, anymore than Trellany did.

  We started to walk back to the castle in silence. My stomach was twisted into a knot of nerves. Something still felt wrong about all of this, and then I heard a scraping sound, the sound of metal against leather. Hard hands pushed me forward suddenly. I stumbled, and fell onto the gravelled path. The cold, hard chips of rock cut my palms, as I put my hands out to protect me, and I cried out in pain and surprise. When I turned over I saw Trellany, her sword shining in the moonlight, engaged with two men, both dressed in black.

  "Run," Trellany snapped at me, over her shoulder. "Prince Candale, just go!"

  She didn't need to tell me twice. I scrambled to my feet, not pausing to brush the stones from my clothes or from where several of the smaller ones were now imbedded in my hands, and I fled.

  I raced up the gravelled path, my heart pounding. The sound of metal clashing against metal followed me, sounding loud against the drum of my own heart and my ragged gasps for breath. I was getting a stitch, the ground was uneven and I was stumbling across it, but still I ran on, driven by my thoughts, by my own shame, as much as any real fear.

  I was a coward, my inner voice told me. I had turned and run, leaving Trellany, leaving a woman, alone, behind me, to fight for me. A coward, and yet, she had told me to run. She had told me to leave and, out of the two of us, it was she who was armed. Even knowing that if I'd stayed, I would have just gotten in the way, didn't help my guilt any. Trellany, a woman, of the Royal Guard, was fighting for me and I had turned and ran away. I was a coward and I was an idiot. I had led us both into this and who knew what was going to happen to her now, because of me.

  But still I ran on, my thoughts racing, my heart pounding, until something hard hit me in my back and I fell, crashing into a flowerbed.

  Pain shot through my body, racing along my spine and I gasped as I struggled to breathe. And then I felt it, a familiar pressure in my skull, in the back of my neck and in my shoulders, a dull, throbbing ache that meant only one thing.

  I grunted in pain and rolled onto my side to try and get to my feet.

  A hard boot against my belly kicked me flat on my back and I saw a spark of silver, a sword glinting in the moonlight. A man stood over me, dressed in black, his face shadowed in the darkness. And as I stared up at him, he levelled the sword against my throat. I felt the cold steel pressed to my skin and a warm trickle of blood ran slowly down my neck as the blade nicked me. I swallowed nervously against its cold point, not daring to breathe too deeply in case the blade cut me further. My heart was thundering and blood had rushed to my head, but no other part of me could move. My legs and arms felt heavy, numb, as though they were no longer part of me and my throat was thick. The pain in my back and stomach was intense and through it all I could feel that pounding in my skull.

  "Don't," I whispered. "Please." I blinked back tears from my eyes. I was facing my death here, staring up at its shadowed features and the cold steel that would take my life. "Please," I whispered again, and this time I wasn't sure if I addressed the man who stood over me, or my own body. "Don't do this. Please. Don't do this!"

  "I'm sorry, Prince Candale," the voice was soft, gentle. "It has to be done. It will be easier for us all, for you, for your family, for everyone, if we do this now before things go too far."

  "Please," I gasped again. I closed my eyes. The pain was increasing inside my skull. I nearly couldn't stand it. I moaned. It was coming. I could feel it. It was going to happen... "Please-"

  Pain exploded inside my skull and the fit hit me.

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  Chapter Eight

  TRAITORS

  Reality came back to me slowly. I had bitten my tongue and it throbbed. There was pain in my head, in my back and in my hands. I took a deep breath, drawing air into my lungs and the cold chill of it burned me. Stars were bright above me and the moon was shining clearly, big and swollen. I was aware that there were people standing around me - my parents, Trellany and Davn, all looking down at me. I wondered how long they had been standing there and felt a flush of embarrassment stain my cheeks.

  Then it came flooding back to me. The man standing over me, the shiny silver sword pressed against my throat and the fit that followed. I touched my neck cautiously and felt the stickiness of dried blood. My stomach heaved and I suddenly felt sick. I could have died. I could be dead now, and my parents would be standing around my corpse weeping, not looking down at me with quiet worry.

  But I wasn't dead. No, I was most definitely alive. The pain I felt in my body and the cold chill of the hard gravel beneath me was proof of that. I was alive! But how? The man had held a sword to my throat. Why hadn't he killed me? What had happened?

  Carefully I sat up, pressing my fingers against my temples to try and ease the dull throbbing as I drew my knees closer to my body so that I could try to get to my feet. It wasn't easy. My hands were cut from my fall earlier and my belly ached from where I had been kicked, which made it painful to straighten out.

  "Let me help you," my mother said gently, reaching down with her cold, slender hands to help me up. I realised then that I was wearing her cloak and my father's, too.

  "How are you feeling, Candale?" my father asked.

  "I'm fine," I whispered. "J-just a fit." It hurt to talk, my tongue was sore and I was really feeling the cold. I drew the cloaks around me, clutching tightly to the warm fabric. My mother's blue cloak, which matched her dress, smelled of her perfume
and it was comforting.

  "Yes," my mother echoed, "just a fit." She stroked my hair with gentle, loving fingers.

  "H-how long was I lying there for?" I whispered, feeling a little embarrassed about this show of affection in front of cold-eyed Davn.

  "Half an hour, perhaps," my father said. "We wanted to move you, but we know better than to do that after you have had a fit. Best to let you just lie still and come back to your senses, we have been told, time and again, so we covered you up and waited."

  "Oh." I nodded.

  Once, when I had been a child, my father had tried to move me as soon as a fit had finished. I hadn't recognised him and had panicked, screaming and crying, and no one had been able to calm me. They had all been strangers to me. When my mind had cleared, I had wondered why my mother had been crying and my father had looked so pale and shaken. They had explained to me what I had done, but I had been unable to remember any of it. After the same thing had happened again, following another fit, the healer had decided that it was best if I was left alone, after a seizure, until I came back to my senses. It was a hard wait for my parents, one that wasn't made any easier by the knowledge that they could still talk to me and ask me questions but I would have no idea who they were or what was going on. It hurt them, that I couldn't recognise them. And I knew that it was worrying for them, too, but it was something that they'd had to get used to, just as I'd had to get used to the fits.

  I turned to look at Trellany. She had her hand pressed against her cheek and I saw she was holding a handkerchief there, a white handkerchief stained with blood.

  "You're hurt," I whispered, feeling guilt and shame well up inside me. "Oh, gods, I'm so sorry."

  Trellany smiled at me but I saw a flash of pain in her eyes. "It's just a scratch," she said, trying to sound bright. "And I'm not as hurt as the two men I fought."

  "They're dead," my father said. "She saved your life."

  "No," Davn said quietly. "The fit saved his life. When I got near, the assassin was just standing over the prince, watching him. I don't think he knew what to do. It distracted him, frightened him, and then when he heard me, he turned and fled."

  "Then you saved my life," I said. "He would have just killed me when the fit ended if you hadn't been there. Thank you."

  "It's my job, Prince Candale," Davn said casually, with a shrug, as though my words meant nothing to him. I bit on my lip. He didn't even have the grace to accept my thanks.

  "And thank you, Trellany," I whispered. "I'm so sorry that I got you into this."

  "Prince Candale, I would die for you," Trellany replied.

  That didn't make me feel any better and slowly I turned to my father. He was the last person left out of those gathered around me who I needed to speak to and the one whose eyes I was most afraid of meeting.

  "Why were you out here, Candale?" Gerian asked, as I met his gaze. "What in Drakan's sake inspired you to leave your own ball so that you could come out into the garden?"

  "A page came to me, told me Lykeia wanted to see me," I said.

  "Which page?" my father asked.

  "A young girl, she seemed new. Blonde, I think her eyes were brown ..." I shrugged. "I didn't pay that much attention to her, to be honest. She told me Lykeia wanted to see me so I came out here, that's all."

  My father looked at Davn and the bearded man nodded his head. "I'm on it, Prince Gerian," he said, and then he was gone, walking back toward the castle.

  "And I had better go and pack," Trellany said, and she trotted off after Davn. I watched as she caught up with him and the two of them walked back into the castle together, leaving me alone with my worried parents.

  I turned to face Gerian again. "Why does she need to pack?" I asked him.

  "She's going to be your bodyguard," he replied.

  "My bodyguard?" I licked my lips. "But she's a woman."

  "And?" my mother asked coldly. "Does that mean that she's incapable of looking after you? She fought and killed two men, Candale."

  "I didn't mean it like that, Mother," I whispered. "J-just that if she's to be my bodyguard won't that mean she'll move into my chambers?"

  "Yes," my father said. "She will move into your nursemaid's old rooms. They've stood empty since you were nine years old and, as you refuse to have a personal servant, I think that your bodyguard should have it. I'm sure that she will find it meets her requirements well enough. She will have her own bedroom and a small sitting room, certainly more than she has at the moment."

  "Is it proper," I whispered, "to have her in my chambers?"

  Gerian grinned at me. "I think that we can trust you to not lead her astray, Candale."

  "And she would break your arm if you tried anything improper," my mother added. Then she embraced me tightly and I breathed in her warm, perfumed scent. "You mustn't do anything so foolish again, Candale."

  "Not so foolish," I said awkwardly. "I did bring Trellany with me."

  Silnia eased me away. "Yes," she said softly. "Yes, you did. But you still should have known better."

  "I-I know," I said, my voice shaking with unshed tears. "I'm sorry." My gaze dropped to the ground, crunching a stone under my foot. I could see the flowerbed with its crushed and crumpled flowers from where I had fallen and the stones of the path close to it bore the marks of my thrashing feet as I had shook and jerked through my fit. How strange to see the damage I had caused, to see the marks of my fit. Here I could have lost my life and the only sign of it was crushed flowers and disturbed gravel. I sighed miserably. "I can't believe that Lykeia would do anything to hurt me, that he would lead me into a trap. He's been my tutor for years. He's my friend. I trusted him. There has to be some other explanation for this."

  "We're not going to jump to any conclusions about this, son," Silnia said in a quiet voice. "Innocent until proven otherwise. It's just very suspicious."

  "Yes," I agreed. I crunched another stone. It made me feel better, somehow. "I know." I looked up at my father. "Can I be there when you question him?"

  Gerian hesitated. "We'll talk about this tomorrow," he said at last. "You had a nasty shock and a bad fit. We should get you inside."

  "But-"

  Silnia put an arm around my shoulders. "Come on, son," she said. "It's cold out here. Let's get you back to your rooms, all right? We can talk about this after breakfast tomorrow."

  "All right," I said reluctantly.

  I let my parents lead me slowly back to my suite. I couldn't hear any music, as we walked through the corridors. I could only guess that the ball had been cancelled because of what had happened to me. I wondered what the Courtiers had made of it all, what they were saying. Knowing them, they'd have wild theories. I only hoped that the truth was simple and straightforward. I didn't think I could cope with anything else.

  My mother gave me another hug outside my door and my father just looked at me with worried eyes, before they took back their cloaks and left me.

  Inside my rooms, I found Trellany sitting on a chair waiting for me. She had changed into a simple white shirt and black breeches. Now she had removed the handkerchief from her face, I could see the long gash that had bled so heavily before. The area around it was red and inflamed. I felt another flare of guilt in my stomach as I saw it. It would scar, I was sure of it. A scar would not ruin her looks, she would always be pretty, and when the redness had gone down she might be able to hide it under some face powder or something, but I still felt guilty that she had been injured at all.

  "Prince Candale," Trellany said, "I'll try and stay out of your way as much as possible when you're in these rooms. I ... I've taken over the spare bedroom. I trust that's all right? It's what Prince Gerian said to do."

  "That's fine." I stood nervously, twisting my hands behind my back. "I-I suppose that perhaps I should have some locks put onto the doors in here? T-the bathing room and your set of rooms at least, so that we don't walk in on each other ..."

  "That might be wise, although I do trust you, Prince Candale."r />
  "And Mother says you'll break my arm if I try anything."

  "Yes." Trellany laughed. "Or something you value more." She rose to her feet and took a step toward me. I took a step back. There was an odd look in her eyes. They were shining, despite the long, painful looking gash down her right cheek. "I know that this is going to be hard for you, awkward, at least at first, but I'll do my best to make this situation easier for you."

  "I know," I said, still wary of the look in her eyes.

  "And I just want you to know," she continued, "that this is a great honour for me. It really does mean a lot to me that I've been given this job as your protector, that I'm being trusted like this. And even though this was Prince Gerian's idea, I hope that you'll be able to trust me."

  "I do trust you," I said.

  "Good." She gestured to one of my chairs. "Sit. Let me take a look at your hands. You hit the ground fairly hard when I pushed you out of the way."

  "Something also hit me in the back," I said. "It knocked me down again. And I-I was kicked in my stomach."

  "Hmm. Then slip off your shirt and I'll have a look at that as well."

  I did as she asked, slipping off my coat, doublet and shirt, which were now soiled with dirt, sweat and chips of gravel. While I was at it I pulled off my boots, as well. My feet throbbed and ached with newly formed blisters and it was a relief to get those boots off and throw them as far away from me as I could manage. Trellany just looked at me with an amused smile as the boots clattered together and disappeared beneath a table.

  When I'd removed my shirt, I sat forward in the chair so that she could look at my back. The throbbing in my skull had dulled somewhat and no longer bothered me as much as it had, but my back still hurt.