To Darkness Fled bok-2

by Jill Williamson

  Kurtz honked a loud laugh. "I'll say. If you'd seen wh-"

  "Aye," Sir Gavin said. "But only since our first night in Mitspah."

  "And you didn't bother to tell us?" Sir Caleb asked.

  "Stingy lad wanted her all to himself, he did." Kurtz snorted. "Royalty, eh?"

  "It was her decision to tell," Sir Gavin said. "It still is."

  The memory of the day's events brought a gasp to her lips-or was this a new day now? — Khai had stabbed her. And she'd stabbed him back. Was he dead?

  Achan!

  She sat up. Fiery pain stabbed her side and she cried out.

  A shadow shifted on the wall. Sir Eagan rose from a chair in the corner of her room and walked toward her. "Lay back, Vrell. You've been stabbed, though I suspect you remember."

  "Achan is in trouble."

  Sir Eagan stopped beside her bed. "Achan is here. He is wounded and moving slow, but he shall recover."

  Vrell sighed. Praise Arman.

  Kurtz stepped into the doorway and grinned. His lengthy stare made her uncomfortable. She pulled the blankets to her chin. She should lie down, but what if she could not sit up again? She wanted to go to Achan. He might need care.

  "Kurtz, would you leave us a moment?" Sir Eagan asked.

  Kurtz straightened. "Why would I do that, eh?"

  "So I can check my patient's wounds.

  Vrell stared at Sir Eagan with wide eyes. He did not smile but held her gaze.

  "Bah," Kurtz said. "Nothing I haven't seen before, eh?"

  Vrell's cheeks warmed.

  "Stand guard outside," Sir Eagan said.

  Kurtz growled and pulled the door closed behind him.

  Sir Eagan sat on the edge of her bed. "Removing your gown was necessary to treat your wound. Forgive my invasion of your privacy. Sir Gavin insisted I not call a woman healer."

  Vrell looked down at the bulges at the end of the blanket that were her feet.

  Sir Eagan went on. "As I worked on your wound, I could not help but notice you do not bear this mark of the stray as Achan does. I have a theory, my lady, that might offend if I am mistaken. But if I am not…well…I must know. Might you be Lady Averella Amal of Carmine?"

  Vrell's eyes swelled. "Sir Gavin told you?"

  He grinned. "Nay, my lady. My strength has always been observing. Since the day we met, I knew you were not a man and most definitely not a stray."

  "How?" Vrell thought of how Jax mi Katt had said, You do not smell like a man.

  "You are elegant. Even when you try to be clumsy it is gracefully done. Your skin is fair, clearly not lived a lifetime of hard labor in the sun. You are petite, and I have never met a boy of fourteen who was not all arms and legs. You could not stomach being in the room where Achan was bathing. And though you sometimes try to doctor your speech, having lived my whole life as heir to my father's household, your highborn tongue is hard to hide.

  "Of course, there is also the fact the duchess and I are…old friends. There are parts of you that look very much like her." He reached out and cupped the side of her face with his hand. "And parts of you that look…"

  Tears flooded Vrell's eyes. It could not be as she had suspected. It could not.

  He lowered his hand. "Have no fear, my lady. I mean you no ill will. Only, would you not be safer in your mother's household?"

  Vrell released a shaky breath, thankful Sir Eagan had not voiced her fear. "Sir Gavin said we travel to Carmine next."

  "And what of Achan? Does he know your real name?"

  Vrell shook her head. "Please do not tell him. I never meant to deceive him so. Prince Gidon-Esek-he wanted to marry me, to control Carm. I would rather have died than marry him for any reason. Mother helped me hide in Walden's Watch with Lady Coraline."

  "My aunt."

  "Oh!" Vrell wrinkled her nose, mind spinning. "But…is she not younger than you?"

  Sir Eagan nodded. "Life is funny that way sometimes."

  "Yes." How could Vrell be so calm? Talk so easily to Sir Eagan? He was practically a stranger, yet-dare she think it? — maybe so much more. A peaceful calm compelled her to go on.

  "The Kingsguards took me from Walden's Watch to train under Master Hadar. I was trapped until Achan came. I fled with him and the knights into Darkness. I knew he suspected something. My lies were becoming too complicated for him not to catch on. He is quite smart when he is using his head."

  Sir Eagan raised his eyebrows.

  Vrell pulled her hand to her lips. "Oh, I meant no disrespect. But Achan often gets so caught up in his plans, he becomes obsessed."

  Sir Eagan nodded. "It is a trait his father had as well. Both blessing and curse."

  Vrell studied the thick weave of her wool blanket. "Achan told Sir Gavin that I was hiding something. Sir Gavin cornered me the second night of our journey and demanded the truth or he would leave me behind."

  Sir Eagan scowled. "Horrible brute."

  Vrell cracked a smile. "He was only doing his duty. And once I confessed, Sir Gavin was a great help."

  Sir Eagan chuckled and patted her hand. "It is hard to imagine Gavin as your only confidant. How awkward it must have been for you all these months."

  "Yes. Yes, it was awkward, but…"

  "You love Achan."

  Sir Eagan simple declaration brought a rush of heat to Vrell's head. An overwhelming ache seized her at the memory of his kiss, his intense eyes, the way he'll held her in his arms. "No, my lord. I… betrothed…" Her voice cracked. "Bran Rennan of Carmine." Tears swelled in her eyes. Bran did not love her, if he ever really had. Could anyone really? She was so plain and skinny, with a voice like a mule.

  She continued trying to convince Sir Eagan, distract him from his train of thought. "Bran squires for your brother, you know. He and Sir Rigil are both working in Carmine."

  "You do know Achan loves you?"

  Vrell sniffled. "You are mistaken, my lord. He is like a brother to me." Achan was simply confused. Soon he would meet a beautiful woman like Tara or Gren. One the knights would approve of. Then he would forget about Vrell.

  Sir Eagan offered a sympathetic smile. "When Achan returned, he limped outside your door, bleeding all over the floor, until the hops tea I forced him to drink bested him." Sir Eagan took her hand again. Calm stretched over her body like another blanket. "Will you not miss your brother when you are home and he moves on?"

  "It matters not." Tears overflowed Vrell's eyes and coursed down her cheeks. "I will not let him think I betrayed him or did not trust him."

  "Forgive me, my lady, but is that not what you have been doing all along? Why not confess?"

  "Because I…I did not want to be one more liar in his life. I know it is deceitful. Please, I beg you. Let him know me as Vrell Sparrow, a stray girl who simply refused to be anyone's mistress. And let him meet Averella Amal in another life."

  "If that is your wish, my lady, I promise to hold your secret safe. Though I have never found secrets make life easier."

  "That is my burden to bear."

  "Very well." He squeezed her hand and let go. "I will take you home myself. Tomorrow, if you are feeling up to the ride."

  Tears flooded Vrell's eyes. "You would do that?"

  "Yes. I would very much like to see your mother again. It has been far too long."

  Vrell stared up at Sir Eagan. Could he also be suffering from a secret long kept? She wanted to ask if he was her father, but did she really want to know?

  Regardless, the words would not come.

  "Achan will shadow my mind, I suspect. I can do nothing to hide from him."

  "There is a way, actually. I could teach you the trick, though it will not work forever. He is too strong. Eventually someone will teach him the way around our trick." He stood. "Tomorrow, my lady, I shall teach you. For now, try to sleep. You must rest if we are to travel."

  "Please do not tell Achan we are leaving."

  "Sir Gavin will have to know."

  Vrell nodded. "Thank you, Sir Eagan. Goi
ng home will bring me great comfort."

  "I am happy to serve any way I-"

  "I said, let me in!" Achan's muffled voice yelled from outside the door.

  "Strike me as much as you like, Pacey," Kurtz answered in an overly loud voice. "Beat me, club me, flog me, torture me, eh? But my orders come from the master surgeon, they do."

  Sir Eagan winced. "Our star dramatist hard at work. Shall we let our prince in to see you or shall I say you are sleeping? I may not be able to stop him either way."

  Vrell swallowed. "It is all right. He may enter."

  "Very well." Sir Eagan walked to the door. He opened it and patted Kurtz on the shoulder. "Kurtz, you and I are needed elsewhere."

  Kurtz stepped aside with regal posture and bowed. His bottom lip had swollen as if he had been-Vrell's hand shot to her lips. Oh, Achan. Angry men could be so foolish.

  Achan pushed past Kurtz, who winked at Vrell before closing the door. Achan stopped just inside as if he did not know where to go now that he had finally gained entry. He looked a mess. His hair frizzed out all over, bruises blackened his face and neck, scratches covered his face, dried blood caked around his left ear, and fresh blood soaked through his fresh white tunic in two places under his arm.

  She shifted-her side ached-and clutched her blankets back up around her neck. "Are you hurt, Your Highness?"

  "Barely," he mumbled. "You?"

  "I am well."

  He let out a long breath and limped forward three steps. His wince proved that every move pained him.

  Stubborn as he was, she dared not point it out. "What happened at Esek's camp?"

  "I believe you killed Khai."

  Vrell clapped her hand to her mouth. "Oh, I did not mean to. I only wanted to help you."

  Achan laughed silently, then crinkled his brow and stopped as if even silent laughter aggrieved his wounds. "You helped me fine."

  "But I…" She had stabbed him only once. "I have never killed anyone."

  Achan sighed. "It's not a pleasant feeling, is it? Even in regards to a man like Khai."

  It did not seem real. "What else happened?"

  Achan cast his blue eyes her way. He opened his mouth but did not speak. He limped the rest of the way to her bedside, seeming so much taller standing over her. He pursed his lips and, wincing, lowered himself to his right knee. Her pallet was so low to the ground his face was level with hers.

  "I've learned a new trick. Open your mind." He reached out and slid his hand over the back of her hand, tucking his fingers between hers. He closed his eyes.

  She tensed at the intimate way he held her hand, but her thoughts were interrupted by his. Flashes of activity flitted through her mind. His memories. Achan riding into Darkness on Dove, he and Shung fighting Khai, lifting Sparrow off Esek's bed, carrying her out of the pavilion, hearing her scream, watching her through Khai's apparitions, catching her as she fell from Khai's sword, carrying her to Dove.

  Her chest swelled with the memory of his feelings and emotions, but it all moved so fast she could not stop to think about one thing in particular. Pain shot through her thigh when Esek's sword struck true. She was with him as he cut down Esek, took Owr and his father's ring.

  Then Achan slumped on a horse. She experienced his agony and surprise at the cham bear's attack. Its teeth. Defeating it. Returning to Mitspah. Trying to see Vrell. Tiring. Sir Eagan looking over his wounds.

  Vrell's mind became her own again. She opened her eyes to see Achan smiling. What reason could he have to smile? "Oh, Achan, a cham! How horrifying!"

  His smile faded. "Aye, it wasn't pleasant. Glad I wore my chain armor."

  She met his eyes. "Where did you learn to do that? Show me your memories?"

  "Sir Eagan." Achan focused on their interlocked fingers and rubbed his thumb over the back of hers. "I may have killed Esek. I hadn't intended…he was in a bad position when I…"

  Vrell stared at his pained face. From his memories, she knew exactly what he was thinking, reliving, regretting.

  Achan licked his chapped lips. "Sparrow, I want to…I must speak with you about…. Sir Gavin tells me you intend to leave us soon."

  She wanted to stop him from saying things they would both regret, but the intensity of his gaze kept her from protesting. "I do not belong here, Achan. You must understand that much."

  "You belong with me. I need you."

  "Whatever for? Sir Eagan has proven an excellent healer."

  His blue eyes pierced her defenses, chipped away at the shield around her heart. He opened his mouth twice to speak, but said nothing. His tongue-tiedness set her pulse racing. "My heart does not beat for Sir Eagan."

  She wilted. "No, Achan. None of that."

  His brows furrowed. "Why do you fight it? I promised myself I would marry you no matter what anyone says."

  She tried to pull her hands from his, but he held tight. "We are from different worlds, you and I. This can never be." Yet Lady Averella could certainly marry the prince. Would her lies never cease? How had everything gotten so twisted?

  His eyes pleaded. "Don't say that, Sparrow, please don't. I want you here. I…"

  She wanted to believe him, but how could it be true? "You wanted Tara a short time ago."

  He puffed out a long breath. "I wanted Tara over a stranger, though she nearly was one."

  "And Gren before that."

  "But she… But you are different. You are my dearest friend."

  Unlike Esek, and the other suitors over the years, Vrell knew Achan did not seek her inheritance, for he knew nothing about it. Still, Vrell pulled her hand from his grip. "You fall in love with every girl who crosses your path. I will not forget how you stared at Beska or Yumikak. Even Lady Lathia."

  "Those silly girls are nothing like you."

  She set her jaw. "Precisely. I will never be pretty enough for your arm." Even Bran had deserted Vrell for Gren-a peasant! — because she was prettier. "For three months we've known each other, you never once suspected me to be a woman-I mean, look at me." Tears gathered in Vrell's eyes, blurring Achan's face. "I am a shapeless, pale…twig! With hair like, uh…like tree lichen! I am as feminine as a broomstick. And a voice like a mule. I may as well be an adolescent boy."

  He rose onto his knees, eyebrows puckered in sympathy. See? He agreed! He could see plainly that she was everything she knew she was.

  But then he took the sides of her face in his hands and brushed away her tears with his thumbs. "No, Vrell."

  He had never called her Vrell before.

  "You were never a very good boy. There was always something bafflingly odd about you. I never cared for any of those other girls. You are so smart and tough. And you are beautiful."

  She shook her head.

  "Yes. You're a flower. You have the sweetest face. Your hair is like black corn silk." He pushed his fingers back through her hair. "You always smell like rosewater and have made me crave the smell. And what I love best about you-besides how soft you feel-is how your eyes pierce me every time you look my way, like I'm your target and your arrow struck true, bringing me to my knees. And the only way I can live is to look on those life-sustaining green eyes."

  Her resistance dissolved at the tender honesty of his words. Joyous heart! He did care. Without a word, she brushed her lips against his.

  His kiss was soft, hesitant this time. She felt their minds connect, sensed his caution, his exhilaration. His hands massaged her head, then one moved to her waist and he pulled her to the edge of the bed. His movement jarred her wounded side. He pulled back his face and gasped with her, feeling her pain.

  Sorry.

  He moved his hand back to her face, kissed her forehead, then hugged her head to his chest. She could hear his heart drumming. His thoughts spilled into her mind like water from a jug.

  I never wanted to hurt Sparrow. Never. She means too much to me. Losing her was proof of that. But how can I keep her? What would Sir Caleb say? He recalled Sparrow's joke of a stray mistress. Could she have mean
t that? Been hinting? Lots of noblemen took mistresses. Maybe my wife-from Sir Caleb's arranged marriage-could have her own space, and I could keep Sparrow with me, always.

  Fire coursed through Vrell's veins. She pushed away, closing her mind and sucking in a long breath to keep herself from crying. "I knew it! You are no different."

  His wide eyes were unfathomable, as if he were innocent. "What'd I do?"

  If Achan truly knew Arman, he would know that yoking himself to multiple women would ruin them all. "This matters more than any feelings we may have for one another. You do not love Arman. You only love yourself."

  He pulled back, though not far enough to give her room to escape. "I–I love you. I told you so. I meant it."

  "No, Achan. You think you can keep me in a room in your castle, to be your, your…" She blew out another furious breath. "Ladylove!" She seized her pillow and struck him with it, gasping at the pain stabbing her side. "Get out!" She struck him again and let her pillow fall to the floor. She panted, whispered, "Leave this chamber, now."

  "I'm sorry!" He groaned to his feet, drew back a step. "I didn't mean those thoughts. They were for me alone. Just me. Just… thinking. W-We don't have to be together. No one even has to know you're a woman. Or you could be the prince's chosen sister. Wise female advisor. We could-"

  "Achan, such a thing could not be done. It would be scandalous."

  "I don't care. We could be the pair who changed their stations in life. W-We'll vow to abolish strays from all Er'Rets. Grant peasant rights to everyone." He stared at the floor. All was still, the crackling fireplace the only sound. "And if you grew to love me…"

  She wished he would let go of his scheming. It took all her effort not to look at him, his eyes, his lips. Her throat burned. "Achan, I became a man to avoid marriage."

  "To someone horrible. I'm not so bad, right?" He grinned, but it did not reach his eyes. "And I love you. So it won't be like marrying a man thrice your elder or one who only means to use you."

  "It would be worse."

  Achan pulled back farther as if she had slapped him. "You don't care, even a little?"

  "Your own thoughts betrayed you, Achan. You must marry a noblewoman." And he would never know her real name. She decided that then and there. She should never have let down her guard. He could not be trusted.