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

by Fran Jacobs

  Trellany's strong hands were cold and I could feel the rough calluses on her slim fingers as they moved across my back. Her fingers slid down my spine, slowly moving across my skin until she touched the sore spot, which sent a blast of pain shooting through me. I cried out, jerking forward, away from her touch.

  "Sit back," Trellany said.

  "No, I don't want you to touch it."

  Trellany laughed quietly. "All right, I won't touch it. Sit back down." I sat, hesitantly. "Hmm," Trellany murmured under her breath. "I'm no healer and I'm fairly convinced that you won't want to see someone who is."

  "I've seen enough healers."

  "Yes. I thought you might say that." She came around to squat on her haunches in front of me. "It's very red, Prince Candale. Inflamed. There's no sign of any bruising, though and I've no idea what might have hit you."

  "It hurt enough."

  "Yes." She eased me to sit back in the chair so that she could study my flat stomach and the bruise taking shape there. I swallowed nervously as she leaned over my lap to get a closer look. There was something intense about this. I couldn't remember having ever been this close to a woman before. Even dancing it hadn't felt this close, this intimate. I felt heat rise in my face, but Trellany barely noticed as she touched the bruise carefully with her fingers. It didn't hurt, not until she touched it and when I cried out, Trellany muttered an apology. Then she took my hands and turned them over to study my palms. "The bruise on your belly is mostly superficial," she said. "And your hands aren't cut up that badly. There are no stones left in your palms. It just looks a little sore."

  "It is sore."

  She stood up and lifted my chin. I stared up at the roof of the room, looking past her, rather than at her. "Just a nick here," she said, touching my throat. "Barely a scratch." She let me go. "I'll get something for your hands that will ease the soreness. I'll try it on your back as well. I don't think it can hurt to try. And I shall get something to treat that pretty bruise on your belly. Then do you want to talk to me? I know tonight must have been a shock for you. It can help to talk."

  "I'd rather just sleep," I said. "My head still hurts from my fit and if I'm all right, then I'd rather forget the treatment and just sleep off the pain, thanks."

  "Hmm," she murmured again. "I can't make you talk to me," she said, "but I wish that you would. You don't have to tell me anything. It is my job to risk my life for you regardless of the situation, but if I'm going to act as your bodyguard, you'll need to trust me. And it would help the trust situation if you felt that you could tell me anything, because if you can't trust me with your secrets, Prince Candale, how can you trust me with your life?"

  I got to my feet and bent to pick up my discarded clothes. "I don't have any secrets," I said awkwardly, hoping that my sudden movement, meant to distract me, didn't show up that lie. "I-I just don't want to talk about it, to think about it, right now. I need to lie down. It's all such a shock. I can't believe that anyone would want to kill me." I headed towards the door that led to my bedchamber. "I don't really want to even think about this right now."

  "All right," Trellany agreed reluctantly. "Sleep well."

  "And you."

  Inside my bedchamber I finally let myself collapse. I sank down onto my huge bed, still dressed in my breeches and stockings, and crawled under the covers. I was so cold I was shivering, even though the room was warm. I lay there, curled on my side, staring into the lantern's warm light, listening to Trellany's footsteps as she moved about in her new bedroom. The room was adjacent to mine, with a connecting door between them, although she would actually gain access to her chambers through the main sitting room. It felt strange to lie there and listen to her moving about, knowing that she was getting ready for bed, that she was just on the other side of the door. But there was something very comforting about it as well. Someone had tried to kill me and it felt good to know that Trellany was only a shout away. If I needed her, she would be there for me. It was an odd feeling, but a good one, too.

  I was still listening to her move around as I fell asleep.

  ***

  In the morning I woke early, following a restless night of strange and disturbing dreams that I could barely recall in the cold light of dawn. Even so they left an unpleasant and uncomfortable after-effect, as though there was something about them that I should remember, something important, but my mind refused to recall what it was. It left me feeling distracted and a little shaken up.

  Trellany was already up, dressed, with her red hair tied back from her face in a tight braid. Her legs were curled up beneath her and she was filing her nails. How quickly she had made herself at home in my rooms! There was even a book, that she must have taken from my study, lying on the floor beside her chair. I decided then and there that I would have to gather together all my secret things and lock them away in my bedroom. I trusted Trellany. I knew that she wouldn't snoop around, go through drawers and chests to investigate things that I had hidden away, but there were some things that I would just feel more comfortable knowing she could not come across accidentally.

  Trellany smiled up at me as I came in the room. "Did you sleep well?"

  "No. Did you?"

  Her smile faded. "No. Not really, hence the reason I'm up so early myself." Her eyes were sad as she studied me. "I've never killed before. I had nightmares of my own." She set down the nail file. "You talk in your sleep," she said then, in a light-hearted accusatory tone.

  "Really?" I sat down opposite her. That was interesting. I had never had anyone spend the night with me to tell me that. "Is talking better than snoring?" I asked.

  "Oh, yes," Trellany said. "It didn't last long, only a few minutes, and it was interesting to listen to. Definitely better than snoring."

  "What sort of things did I say?"

  "Oh, um." She drew her legs up to her chest and folded her slim arms around them. She looked uncomfortable, but I was curious. I wanted to know what I had said. "I couldn't make out a lot of it," she said apologetically, "but you muttered something about stone circles, a dragon, and, um, Teveriel."

  "Teveriel?" I felt my face grow hot. "Gods, w-what did I say about him?"

  "I don't know, my prince." She seemed amused by the whole thing. "You just called out his name. It might have been a very ... interesting dream. I know that when I call out someone's name in my sleep it's because I'm having a very ... heated sort of dream and have gotten carried away with myself."

  My flush deepened. "Stop it," I said. "Please? Stop teasing me."

  Trellany's grin grew. "You're blushing!" she exclaimed. "And protesting so much! Perhaps there is something in this after all ..."

  "It was just a dream!" I gasped. "I might have just been worrying about him, you know? That he was going to get eaten by a horse or that we were arguing or anything like that!"

  "Yes," Trellany agreed. "Or you might have been doing something else entirely."

  I sighed. "Is this how it's going to be from now on?" I asked her. "You teasing me like this?"

  "Probably," Trellany said. She reached for her nail file again. "I had a servant draw you a bath. In fact, I was going to come and wake you in a few minutes, although that is clearly not necessary now. The water will help to ease stiff and sore muscles. I already had one myself." She gave a wistful smile. "So nice ..."

  I left her filing her nails, and remembering the nice hot bath she had taken in my bathtub, as I padded through into my bathroom.

  The water was filled to the brim of the tub and steam still rose from the top of it. The air in the room was pleasantly warm and I slid quickly out of my clothes and into the hot water. I had to edge my way in slowly, afraid of burning myself if I went too fast. Trellany obviously liked baths a lot hotter than I did. I liked to keep my skin intact, not scorch it from my body. But once I was used to the high temperature, it was nice to lie back and relax, sinking down to let the water soak my hair. My back still throbbed painfully, but the hot water did a lot to ease it and I soaked
there for a good hour, just relaxing.

  When the water began to chill I got out, dried myself and headed towards the wall mirror so I could shave. Everything was laid out for me, but as I picked up my razor, memories of the previous night and the cold blade at my throat came rushing back over me. I broke out in a cold sweat and my knees buckled. I couldn't do it. I couldn't put the cold razor against my face, against my throat. I would just have to be hairy for a couple of days instead.

  When I was dressed I headed back into the sitting room to find Trellany reading from my book. She marked her place with a finger as she lowered it to look up at me. "Going for the bearded look?"

  I scratched my chin self-consciously. "I wasn't ready to have sharp metal that close to my throat," I admitted. "I don't think that anyone will mind."

  "No one would dare to."

  That was very true. "Are you ready for breakfast?"

  Trellany nodded, set the book back down on my table, and together we left my chambers and made our way down to the hall. As soon as I entered the hall, young lords and ladies surrounded me. I turned toward Trellany for help, but my bodyguard merely stood there, arms folded across her chest, that amused smile on her face again. I was beginning to realise that, even though Trellany thought of looking after me as an honour, she also found it a point of entertainment for her, which wasn't really fair.

  "We heard what happened," Lady Caryolyna gushed, laying a hand on my arm. "How could anyone want to hurt you?"

  "And Lykeia of all people," young Lord Stevn added.

  "It just shows that you can't trust anyone," Ophilla agreed.

  "Nothing has been proven," I said. "I was just asked to see Lykeia and men attacked me. How do we not know that he was waiting out there for me and the men simply saw me leave and took their chance? He could have been waiting there for me the whole time."

  "Then why did Davn take him from his quarters to a cell late last night?" Stevn asked smugly, glad, perhaps, that he had some information to share that he thought I was unaware of.

  "So that he could be questioned," I replied. "A man is innocent until it is proven otherwise."

  "Oh, yes," Stevn said, instantly agreeing with me. "Yes, of course."

  "It was just such a shock," Caryolyna said, "to hear that someone would want to hurt you and then have our own tutor's name brought up in the same sentence."

  "Yes," I agreed. It had been a shock.

  "And you have been through so much already," Ilan added. "What with your illness and all. We really thought you were going to die and just as you recover from that, someone tries to kill you."

  It was then that Trellany stepped in. "I think your parents will be wondering where you are, if you don't join them soon," she said.

  "Yes," I said. I turned to my small group of gathered lords and ladies. "Excuse me."

  And we escaped.

  "Why did you choose that moment to help me?" I asked Trellany.

  "It felt like a good time," she replied.

  I stopped walking and she turned to look at me. "What exactly do you know?" I asked her.

  "What do I know about what?" Trellany countered.

  "About anything," I replied. "You chose that moment to speak up. Are you afraid that someone will make the connection between my illness and the attack on me last night?" Trellany didn't answer, her eyes remained steel and calm, but I saw a brief flicker of her lips. I folded my arms and looked down at her. "Is there a connection to make?" I asked.

  "This isn't for me to say," Trellany muttered under her breath. "So don't ask me." She glanced ahead, to where my parents and grandfather were waiting for me, and I saw her give Sorron a desperate look, one that begged for help. "They're still waiting for you," she said. "And if they're waiting for you, then so is everyone else."

  "Let them wait," I said. "I'm sure they can go hungry for just a little while longer. I want to know what you know."

  She looked back at me. "Prince Candale-"

  "You want me to trust you, don't you?"

  Her shoulders slumped and she sighed. "Fine," she said. "King Sorron told me that Mayrila believed you were poisoned and that there might be another attack on your life, carried out by the same people. He added that he didn't believe it, but wanted us, that is, the Royal Guard, to keep an eye on you, just to be sure. So keep an eye on you we have, since you woke from your illness. That is why Davn followed us last night when we disappeared outside. The fact that there was an attack on your life last night might be proof that what Mayrila had said about you being poisoned was true."

  I swallowed back a tight lump. Had my grandfather lied to me when he told me that I shouldn't worry about what Mayrila had said? Or did he really believe that there was nothing to worry about and he had just been being careful? Either way, it didn't matter, Mayrila had been correct, there had been another attempt on my life and I hated to think that that might make everything else she had said correct, too.

  "What does my father think about all this?" I asked finally. "About the Guards being asked to keep an eye on me?"

  "Prince Gerian doesn't know, just as King Sorron did not want you to know. He didn't want to worry Prince Gerian any more than he had to. Your illness, and then Mayrila's presence here, was enough for him to deal with. Now, I suppose, he'll find out. Now, a lot of things are going to have to come out and be dealt with."

  "What does that mean?"

  "It means," Trellany replied, "that you're going to have to explain what you asked Lykeia to look up for you that would be so important that you had to go into the gardens in the middle of your own ball to see him. It also might have to come out that you saw Mayrila in her quarters, alone, knowing full well that Prince Gerian would disapprove of such a thing."

  I flushed. "You spied?"

  "Not me," she said, "but another member of the Guard, and not spying, exactly. We wouldn't intrude on your privacy and no one knows what was said between you and Mayrila, but we do know that you went there to see her. Just as we know that Prince Gerian doesn't like her and would not approve of such a meeting."

  "Hmm." I glanced towards my father. He was the only one still standing, waiting for me and making it obvious that he was impatient at being kept waiting. "A lot of things are going to have to come out," I agreed. "And something tells me that it isn't going to be pleasant."

  "That's what happens when people keep secrets from each other," Trellany said, "even if it's done for the best of intentions."

  "Yes," I said. "I suppose so."

  Breakfast was strained. I didn't have the stomach for it myself. There was spiced eggs, sausages, wild mushrooms and rashers of bacon, but I settled for a couple of slices of fresh baked bread with butter smeared across the top, and even that nearly choked me. Beside me my grandfather was unnaturally quiet and a quick glance at my parents showed me that my mother had been crying. Her eyes were red, and my father looked tired and pale. My sister, too, looked tired and unhappy. I felt a pang of guilt again, a feeling I was becoming accustomed to. I kept doing this to my family, to the people that I loved. First there had been my illness and now this attack on me. Neither were really my fault, but both had almost resulted in my death. And, although, my father and grandfather might try to pass off my illness as being just that, an illness, they couldn't pass off the attack in the gardens as being nothing. Someone had tried to kill me. Not just me, the boy I saw when I looked in the mirror, but me, Prince Candale, a prince of Carnia. It was a traitorous act and, where there was one, there were bound to be others.

  Just as Mayrila had warned me there would be.

  After breakfast my father, grandfather and I, with Trellany, went into the small council room to talk. It was uncomfortable. The atmosphere was taut and I felt butterflies in my stomach. I had no reason to be nervous. This was my family, yet I knew that what Trellany had said was true. Things were going to have to come out. Things that I didn't want to admit, things that I was sure I didn't want to hear, but I knew that there was no choice, not now. />
  "We questioned the page girl last night," my grandfather said, as we took our seats and waited for the guards to bring Lykeia to us. "And the Page Master confirms that she's new to Court but she does come from a respectable family. She isn't someone who was disguised as a page to be part of this plot against you. In fact, the poor child was very distraught about what had happened, was in tears most of the time when I talked to her. We did learn, from the description she gave, that the man who gave her the message, wasn't Lykeia."

  "Then," I whispered, "perhaps he wasn't involved!"

  "Perhaps," my grandfather agreed. "But whoever was behind this did know that you had reason to see Lykeia alone and they knew that the page was new to Court. Whoever this is, they know a lot about us. Perhaps Lykeia might have further insight."

  "Yes," I said.

  "And then," my father said coldly, "you can tell us why you had reason to leave your own ball to go and see your tutor. You can explain to me what was so important that it couldn't wait."

  "Yes," I muttered, squirming a little in my seat. "All right."

  A few minutes later the door opened and the guards, who had been sent to fetch Lykeia, entered. Without him.

  My stomach twisted and a sudden flurry of tears stung my eyes. I didn't need to see the look on my grandfather's face, as the guards moved closer to whisper quietly to him, to know what they had to say. That my tutor, my friend since I had been a child, was dead.

  My grandfather's eyes were heavy with sorrow when he announced the news quietly to us, when the guards had taken their leave. "He cut his wrists," he said, "on a knife taken in with his breakfast tray! I don't know what the guards were thinking. They removed his bootlaces and belt so he couldn't hang himself last night, but took a knife in so he could butter his damn bread!" He shook his head angrily.

  "It sounds like an admission of guilt to me," my father said simply. I wasn't surprised that he was taking this in his stride. It was the way he handled everything, after all, and he'd never been as close to Lykeia as my grandfather or I.

  "Yes," my grandfather agreed, somewhat sadly. "It does."