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

by Fran Jacobs

  "Father!" I gasped wildly, but there was no hope of salvation in his blue eyes. Desperately I turned to face Sorron, and Davn twisted my arm again. Pain shot through me. I felt my knees buckle.

  "Don't be too hard on him, please," Sorron said. "He's upset-"

  "Davn can't be held responsible for what happens to Candale if the boy won't go willingly," my father said, and with that he gave his guard permission to do pretty much what he wanted with me. So, with my arm still twisted up behind my back in Davn's strong grip, I was hauled from the room.

  Trellany came with, keeping an even pace with us. "Ease up on him, Davn," she snapped.

  "I can't do that," he replied, in a rather smug tone that implied to me that he could ease up on me, he just didn't want to.

  "Prince Candale isn't going to struggle, are you?" she asked me desperately.

  "No," I gasped. "Damn it, I won't. He's going to break my sodding arm!"

  "Not if you stop fighting me I won't," Davn said, and he carried on marching me.

  We passed courtiers on the way to my rooms - I counted nine of them and four servants, and they all stopped to stare as I was marched past, my arm twisted up behind my back. I felt tears of rage and embarrassment burn in my eyes. I tried to stand up straighter, to summon up some level of dignity, only it was nearly impossible to straighten up when a stronger, but shorter man had you by your arm and was forcing you to walk in front of him. I had to walk stooped over like an old man and any time I even looked as though I was slowing down, Davn just twisted my arm until I howled in pain.

  Finally we reached my rooms and I was half convinced Davn had taken me the longest route he could just so that more people could see me. The gossip would spread. Everyone would hear about how Prince Candale had been marched back to his chambers like a troublesome child. Only I wouldn't be around to hear the gossip, I was going to be locked in my rooms, out of the way, like a criminal rotting in a cell.

  There was an odd look of satisfaction in Davn's eyes as he shoved me into my bedchamber and slammed the door shut on my face. I heard the bolt slide into place on the other side before I had a chance to say anything. Not that I was going to protest, of course. I would not lower myself any further before Davn, although I didn't think that was possible. Davn thought nothing of me at all.

  I could hear Davn talking to Trellany as I rubbed life back into my sore shoulder and arm, but the voices were a little muffled. With no qualms at all, I pressed my ear against the wooden door to listen. "I expect you to keep him in there, Trellany. By order of his father."

  "I know my duty, Davn," Trellany snapped. "I don't need you to tell me how to do my job."

  "No? Sometimes I'm not sure about that. The boy needs discipline, control, but you just seem to be pandering to his whims and encouraging him."

  "There is nothing wrong with Prince Candale," Trellany said. "He's not wild, not out of control, certainly not spoilt. He's just eccentric, a dreamer, and right now, he's scared. Everyone acts a little erratically when afraid, Davn, but then I doubt you know that. You've probably never known fear in your life, have you?"

  "No," Davn said. "I haven't." There was a smug note to his voice and then his voice lowered. "As Prince Candale can't go anywhere and therefore you can't either, perhaps you would like some company? I could bring up some wine and have some food brought here to us."

  I bristled at that and began to prepare myself to shout through the wooden door that there was no way I wanted Davn making himself at home in my chambers, courting my bodyguard, while I was stuck in my bedchamber like this.

  But Trellany got there first. "I don't think so," she said.

  "Why not?" Davn sounded genuinely surprised.

  "I don't like you, Davn," Trellany replied. "And I certainly don't want to spend any more time with you than I have to."

  There was no answer to that, just the slamming of a door, as Davn left.

  A few moments later I heard the sound of a bolt being lifted, my bedchamber door was opened and Trellany stood there. "If we're both going to be confined to this suite then I'm going to need someone to talk to," she told me, hands on her hips as she looked at me. "And what better person is there than you? You are, after all, the reason that both of us are confined to this suite."

  "I didn't think it would go this way," I said, still rubbing my arm.

  "No. Nor did I. If I had, I would not have allowed it to happen." She gestured toward the couch and I sat down. "You will have to make yourself scarce when servants come here to stoke the fire, or bring us meals, or should anyone wish to visit, of course. If Prince Gerian finds out that I let you out your bedchamber he might appoint Davn to keep an eye on you instead."

  "Oh, no." I shook my head. "No. I can't think of anything worse than that."

  "Nor I," Trellany said, with a smile. "How is the arm?"

  "Sore, but it'll be all right."

  Trellany sat down opposite me. "I'm glad to hear that, Prince Candale."

  "Davn hates me."

  "It seems that way, yes."

  "Do you know why?"

  "No. I thought that maybe you might."

  "No." I settled back against an arm of the couch and put my legs up along its length, making myself comfortable, my hands resting in my lap, with the finger mark bruises staring up at me. "When I was ill he told me that it would be better for everyone if I just died."

  "Really?" There was a horrified tone to Trellany's voice. "I can't believe that he would say that to you, even hating you as he so clearly does. You were sick, you were-"

  "Dying," I said. "I was dying. And he wanted me to die. And then, he saved my life."

  "It's one thing to want a sick boy to die, another thing to stand back and let a healthy one be killed. It was his duty to save you, but, I suppose, nothing to do with him at all if your illness carried you away."

  "I suppose so."

  "Well," Trellany said, "any idea how you want to fill up your days?"

  "No." I closed my eyes, leaning back against the arm of the couch, listening to the sound of the fire crackle and pop. The room was pleasantly warm; it made me sleepy. And by the looks of it, sleep was the only thing I was going to have to do for the next few days. Chess would be fine, for a while, and drawing perhaps, but there was only so much drawing and chess that I could handle. "This is madness," I said softly. "Total madness. I still can't believe that he did this to me."

  "It could be worse. Prince Gerian could have sent you off to Princess Silnia's parents."

  "Yes, I guess that's true." Then I opened my eyes suddenly, as a thought came to me. "And maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing," I said, as I sat up. "Maybe I should let him do that and then tried to slip away somehow while on the road. No matter how many men he would think to send with me, they couldn't keep an eye on me all the time, surely?"

  Now that I had this spark of an idea in my head, I could see how it could be done. It wouldn't be too hard to anger my father to the point where he sent me away, I seemed to be half way there already and then, while on the road, I could just slip off by myself. At night, maybe, when everyone was asleep, or I could make an excuse to relieve myself and off I would go. No one would be able to catch me on my Herandoran horse, Midnight. He had been a gift from Silnia three years ago on my birthday, and I hated to think what he would have cost her. Herandoran horses were known for being expensive, but they were well worth it, strong in body and wild in spirit. I doubted there was a mount in the whole castle that could match him for speed. No, no one would be able to catch me on Midnight. I would easily be able to get away and start making my way towards White Oaks. Granted, it would be scary and hard. I had never been completely alone before or further than half a day's ride from Carnia Castle, but I was sure that it wouldn't be that difficult. Besides what choice did I really have? Sit here, locked away in my room, until I started to hear voices? No, that wasn't an option. Perhaps I could even talk Trellany into coming with me? As my bodyguard, she would have to, surely? To protec
t me, and I could use the company and support. Or better still, Teveriel. He owed no loyalty to my family, unlike Trellany, so I could be sure he wouldn't betray my plans to them, and I knew he would know how to survive on the road, as he was a bard and it was part of their job to travel from place to place.

  The more I thought about it, the better my idea seemed. I would have to work out the finer details, of course. Food and how I was actually going to get there, but it seemed an idea that might actually work. Better than climbing out my window and slipping away like a thief in the night, at least.

  "When I was a child," Trellany said, "about eight years old, or so, my sister Safia and I desperately wanted to go to the Harvest Ball. She was about thirteen and thought herself in love with this older boy who would be there. I was just desperate to go to this dance, to be an adult. We asked our parents, who said no. Safia kept on at my parents, crying and sulking, pleading with them over and over, while I just accepted their refusal. In the end my father thrashed my sister and sent her to her room. The day of the ball came and my sister was shut away in her room, unable to go out, with the window locked. I, on the other hand, could come and go as I pleased because I hadn't made a fuss and my parents thought that I would simply obey their decision not to go to the dance. But I did go to the dance. I climbed out my unlocked bedroom window, in my best dress, and spent most of the evening in our village square, dancing and eating rich food. I came back just before midnight and got caught sneaking in through my bedroom window. My father thrashed me, sent me to bed." She leaned forward in her chair, her eyes oddly intense as she looked at me. I wasn't sure what this story had to do about anything, and wanted to ask her, but something in her words made me hold my tongue. "I ended up in exactly the same situation as my sister. My backside hurt, as did hers, and we were both locked away in our rooms, but whereas her ranting and raving had gotten her nowhere, my quiet acceptance had enabled me to sneak out. We were both punished, but I had gone to the ball and she hadn't. Do you understand?"

  "I think so," I said slowly. "You're telling me to behave myself, to give a good front to my father, pretend to be the dutiful son, the good boy, and then, when he trusts me again, I should just sneak away."

  "Oh, no," Trellany said. "I'm not saying that at all. I'm not saying that you should trick Prince Gerian, or disobey him. I would never encourage you to do that." She got to her feet and moved towards the drinks cabinet. "All I'm saying is that it's easier to do as you please if you're not being watched, or punished, that's all."

  "Oh," I said. But I wasn't an idiot; I could read through the lines. Behave myself, show my father that I had learnt my lesson and then, when his back was turned, I would leave. I knew my father would probably send someone after me, but I was bound to be able to outride them. And I would easily be able to make it to White Oaks, before the winter took hold, but they wouldn't be able to send me back straight away. They wouldn't want to take the risk that I might get caught in the snow on the return journey. My father would have to wait until spring to drag me home and punish me. By then, I would know all that I needed to know. And I would be eighteen so he wouldn't be able to thrash me like a child. It could work, and it was certainly a better plan than sneaking away from an armed guard on the way to my grandparents.

  Trellany's suggestion meant that I would have to bide my time, be patient and docile and not mention White Oaks, or anything else that might let them onto what I was planning. I would have to let them punish me long enough that they thought me broken, otherwise they would be sure that I was up to something. But I was sure it would work. I was sure that I could do it.

  Trellany returned with a goblet of wine which she held out to me. I took it with a smile as she sat back across from me. "You look thoughtful," she observed.

  "I was just trying to think of ways to pass the time," I replied.

  "And do you have any?"

  "Not beyond playing chess, sleeping and drawing, I don't, no."

  "I can't play chess," Trellany said.

  "Well," I replied, "I think we are going to have plenty of time in which I can teach you."

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  Chapter Eleven

  THE AUTUMN ROAD

  After three weeks of imprisonment my father came to release me.

  Trellany had been my only companion during those weeks, except for a couple of hours each morning when she went down to the courtyard to train. She locked me in my bedroom, with another member of the Royal Guard keeping watch in the sitting room of my suite, while she was gone. I did not begrudge Trellany her hours away from the suite. It was my fault I was imprisoned; she shouldn't have to suffer it all with me. It was made easier to bear knowing, that when she did return, she would have something for me. Usually it was just a message from Teveriel, my sister, or Kal, but sometimes she managed to bring me a small cake, a plate of biscuits from the kitchen, or even flowers from my mother's garden, which were a gift from Silnia herself.

  For those weeks I had to struggle to find ways to amuse myself. At least when I had been ill I had been tired, so sleeping had taken up a lot of my time. Now I was well again, I was restless and desperate to go outside and, as it was forbidden to me, I found myself feeling frustrated and irritable. All I could do was look out of the window and watch the people in the gardens below moving around and the leaves turning golden brown on the trees, before they shrivelled and fell off completely. I missed being outside, stomping through the golden leaves, throwing them at my sister or Kal, riding out into the countryside, smelling that fresh, crisp air that signified the coming of winter. When I had the freedom to come and go as I wanted, I often found it hard to find things to do. Now that I was locked away I could think of so many things that I wanted to do and it was so frustrating that I couldn't actually do any of them.

  To pass the time I taught Trellany to play chess and found she was a quick learner. Sometimes I drew, sketches of the view from my window or dragons and griffins and other fantastical creatures. Once, when Trellany fell asleep in her chair, I sketched her. I never told her that, of course. She didn't like the idea of me drawing her, was surprisingly modest about it, so I did it in secret, and worked on it when I could. I read too, but reading books I had read so many times before didn't keep my interest for long. But mostly Trellany and I talked. There was very little that I could tell her, as she had been at Court since I was a child but Trellany could, and did, tell me about her childhood. She spoke fondly of her family, of her older sister and younger brother. She didn't like it when I asked her a lot of questions, preferring to talk about things that she chose, things that held happy memories for her. She didn't like to talk about what had brought her here to Carnia or what had inspired her to become a Guard either. I got the impression that there were some things that were too hard for her to even think of and I knew when I had touched those topics as a dark look would come over her green eyes, her lips would form a line and her jaw would tighten. I would change the subject then, getting us back onto a more comfortable topic

  As the time went by I grew less frustrated with the situation, not happy with it, just more used to it and, though I hated to admit it, I was glad for the time alone. Free from all distractions, I was able to come to terms with what had happened, with Lykeia's betrayal and with what the library had shown. And I was slowly able to get used to the idea that I was the Shadow Seer. And, of course, I had plenty of time to try and plot how I would dispel my parents' suspicion so that I could escape and make my way to White Oaks. When I had run through my various planned speeches and general escape route, my mind would move onto the journey itself, how exciting it would be to ride across the countryside on Midnight, free of the restraints of Court, and to sleep beneath the stars. I thought about how wonderful it would be to see a different part of the kingdom, to meet new people and to be in disguise so no one would know who I was. It was an adventure, like in stories and songs and the prospect of the journey excited me as much as the idea of reach
ing the other end and seeing the Rose Prophecies. My only remaining concern was that I wouldn't be released until the snow was thick on the ground and escape impossible.

  But I need not have worried. Gerian came long before the last leaf had fallen from the tree, when the snows were still weeks away.

  I was lying on my bed, sprawled out on my belly with my legs in the air, when I heard the sound of knocking on the outer door. Trellany kept the outer door locked, to give us time to put me back into my bedroom and lock that door, should anyone come to visit me. Not that anyone had. She shot me a startled glance through the open bedroom door as she moved to close it. Then I heard the bolt shift into place and her feet as she moved through the room to open the outer door. I didn't move from my bed, or the picture I was sketching. I didn't even look up when my bedroom door opened again.

  "Candale," my father greeted, in a firm voice.

  "My lord Father," I replied, still not looking up at him.

  Gerian sighed. "Still angry?"

  "I don't know," I said. "Are you?"

  "I was never angry."

  "No? Then why have I been locked away in here for three weeks? Why did you let Davn almost break my arm?"

  "Davn would not have broken your arm, Candale. He knows better than that."

  "Really? I doubt that. He hates me, Father."

  "No," Gerian said softly. "He doesn't. He just doesn't understand you. He isn't the only one."

  I sat up, drawing my legs beneath me, and glared up at him. He was dressed in a dark green tunic and black breeches. His blond hair was tied back from his face and his eyes were soft, tired even. There was nothing dark or angry about him. I had expected to see him in dark clothing, oppressive garb, for this confrontation with his unruly son, and his casual, soft clothes knocked me off guard a little.

  "So are you going to tell me why you did this to me?" I demanded. "Why you chose to take my autumn away from me, as my illness took my summer."