To Darkness Fled bok-2

by Jill Williamson

  Vrell blanched. Could Kurtz think of nothing else?

  "Is there a noblewoman at Zerah Rock?" Sir Caleb asked.

  "None I know of," Sir Eagan said, "but it has been many years."

  "A second cousin to Sir Rigil." Sir Gavin sniffed a short breath. "Were Achan a younger prince in a house of princes, he could marry whomever he wishes. We need a noblewoman of vast connections."

  "And wealth," Inko said.

  Achan groaned by the hearth. No one paid him any mind.

  "Ladies Mandzee and Jaira are out," Sir Gavin said.

  "Praise Arman for that," Achan mumbled.

  Vrell smiled. A blessing indeed.

  "I also recommend we reject Ladies Jacqueline and Marietta Levy of Mahanaim," Sir Caleb said.

  Sir Gavin tapped his fingers on the table. "Agreed."

  "You're throwing out all the options that are being the strongest," Inko said.

  "Remind me your concern there?" Sir Eagan asked.

  "They're Lord Levy's daughters," Sir Caleb said. "He voted for Esek as king."

  "Ah." Sir Eagan nodded. "Wise to cut them, then."

  Sir Caleb lifted the list again. "This leaves us with three options: Lady Gali Orson of Berland, age twenty-six-"

  "Bah!" Kurtz wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "Berland women are rough. Trust me, I know."

  Sir Caleb continued, "Lady Halona Pitney of Nesos, age twelve-"

  Kurtz blew a raspberry. "Oh, come on! The lad won't even be able to-"

  "Kurtz," Sir Eagan said, "silence your useless comments."

  "I'm just pointing out what none of you are bold enough to say. How many of you would wish to marry a child, eh?"

  Sir Caleb sighed. "And finally, Lady Glassea Hadar of Armonguard, age fourteen."

  "Prince Oren's daughter?" Achan's forehead wrinkled. "Isn't she my cousin?"

  "Aye," Sir Gavin said.

  "It would be making a strong blood match," Inko said. "A Hadar and a Hadar."

  Achan's eyes bulged like he had swallowed a fly.

  "Let us talk this out," Sir Eagan said. "The ladies from Nesos, Armonguard, and Berland are all heirs to duchies?"

  "All but Glassea," Sir Caleb said. "Achan will rule that duchy."

  "So marrying Glassea gets him nothing," Sir Eagan said. "He already has Prince Oren's support and rule of Arman Duchy. There is no bonus in this match. Cross her off."

  "Thank you," Achan said.

  "That leaves us Nesos and Berland," Sir Caleb said.

  "Both of which voted for Achan as king," Sir Gavin said.

  "Is one stronger than the other?" Sir Eagan asked.

  "I see them as equal," Sir Caleb said. "Both have decent control over their duchy. Neither are the strongest. Nahar has Nesos, Xulon, and Walden's Watch. They're also in a civil war with the Ebens. That could divide their service. Therion has Berland, Meribah Corner-which we now know is useless-Zamar, and Har Sha'ar."

  "A bunch of nothing, eh?" Kurtz said.

  "True," Sir Caleb said. "Berland is strong, but Darkness has weakened Therion, I fear."

  "Well, Pacey? What do you think, eh?" Kurtz asked. "Aged twelve or twenty-six? Personally, I'd go with the twenty-six-year-old. At least she'll look like a woman, she will."

  "You'd be surprised," Achan said. "She's quite…brusque. Six feet tall and built like you. Tough as nails and a little scary. Nice, though. I vote against her because Shung dotes on her."

  "Achan, Shung would never be permitted to marry her," Sir Caleb said. "He's a peasant."

  "Not if I knight him."

  Vrell smiled. Achan would make an excellent king. He cared about all people, down to the peasants and strays.

  "Oh, lad," Kurtz said. "You're just a bleeding heart, you are. We can't let that get out."

  Achan stood and approached the table. "Shung is a good man and a great warrior. Why shouldn't I knight him?"

  Kurtz reached across the table and grabbed a handful of grapes. "Knight him if you want. Marry the child. I don't care, eh? Just don't come weeping to me when all falls to dung."

  Achan sighed. "Is there truly no one else?"

  "None we deem safe, Your Highness," Sir Caleb said.

  "What of Lady Averella?" Sir Eagan asked.

  The room fell silent.

  Vrell stiffened. A chill flashed over her arms. What was Sir Eagan doing?

  Sir Caleb shrugged. "I don't believe she is an option."

  "She's not," Sir Gavin said. "She's betrothed already."

  "Bran Rennan," Achan said. "though he has proved himself unworthy of such devotion, in my opinion."

  An ache passed over Vrell at the rawness of these words, and from Achan of all people.

  "Well now, none of that matters any, eh, Eagan?" Kurtz said. "A prince beats a local lord any day, it does."

  Vrell stifled a gasp. Kurtz deserved a slap. What a horrible thing to say in light of Sir Eagan and her mother's past.

  Yet Sir Eagan did not seem bothered by Kurtz's audacity. "I will speak to the duchess about it. It is my understanding the engagement has been broken."

  Vrell could not bear it. Bring her home to Carmine, then betray her? What was Sir Eagan's game?

  "Carm is being the strongest duchy in all Er'Rets. Both Therion and Nesos would be siding with Carm," Inko said.

  "That's true," Sir Caleb said. "But what of Sitna?"

  "Many would side with Achan given the chance," Sir Gavin said. "There's little love for Esek or Lord Nathak there."

  "Plus they're traveling," Inko said. "Who's ruling in their absence?"

  "Likely Lord Nathak's steward," Sir Gavin said.

  "If she were an option, I'd vote for Lady Averella," Sir Caleb said.

  "Agreed," Inko said. "Esek was having that plan, after all."

  "As would I," Sir Gavin tugged his braid, "yet I don't think that's the case."

  "How old is Lady Averella?" Achan asked.

  "Now you're thinking along the right lines," Kurtz said.

  "Uh…seventeen, I think," Sir Gavin said.

  "Eighteen next month," Sir Eagan said.

  Heat swelled in Vrell. Sir Eagan knew her day of birth?

  "Oh, that's much better." Achan took a long breath and sighed. "Okay. I vote for her too. To ask, anyway."

  "Then you must give her a token," Sir Caleb said. "If the wedding is not to take place until after the war, you must offer something that will assure the young lady you're serious."

  Vrell slid the peephole shut and laid her forehead against the wall. She would have to talk to Mother right away to stop this discussion from going any further.

  *

  Unfortunately, when Vrell sought out Mother, the duchess was in a meeting of her own. And when Vrell returned before dinner, Mother was already meeting with Sir Eagan.

  Vrell stormed through the inner walls of Granton Castle, keeping to passages where she would not be seen. The peephole overlooking the great hall was low since it looked out of the second story of the hall. Vrell never liked this location. She had to sit on the floor and stomach rats and spiders that might scurry past. But if she wanted to look on the great hall, this was her only option.

  She set her candle a few feet from her skirt and peeked through the slot in the wall. No celebration tonight. Achan sat alone at the high table, looking forlorn. Shung stood against the wall behind him. Shung should sit. Achan needed company.

  "Still shadowing the prince?"

  Vrell cowered. "Mother! You scared me." She clapped her hand over her heart and felt its rapid beat through her gown. "What are you doing here?"

  Mother set her lantern beside Vrell's candle. "I would ask you the same question."

  Vrell turned back to the peephole. "Well, I asked first."

  "Seeking out my reclusive daughter. Shadowing the Crown Prince could be considered treason should the wrong person find out. Dearest, why not confess and end all this?"

  "Mother! I am trying to save him a broken heart."

  "I can attest it is f
ar too late for that, Averella. I sense great sorrow in him."

  "Which is why I will not parade out there in my finest dress and give him false hope."

  Mother stepped up to the wall and looked down on Vrell, blocking the light. "Master Rennan came to visit me yesterday."

  Vrell winced.

  "He said you are no longer interested in his proposal."

  Vrell looked up. "I never said that! Bran told me I was not interested. What kind of thing is that to say to a lady?"

  "A very noble thing, I should think. Dearest, he is willing to give you up to see you happy. He knows, as well as I, that you care for our young prince."

  "Do not try to make Bran look noble. He has fallen in love with a peasant and changed his mind about me."

  Mother folded her arms. "Do you know, I found His Highness in the kitchens last night. He was sitting under a table, barefoot, eating a bowl of stew."

  Vrell looked up to Mother's shadowed face. "Was he? Why?"

  "He confessed he is trying but cannot erase his past. To him, sitting under the kitchen table feels like home."

  Vrell found Achan's face in the peephole again. Two maidens walked by his table and giggled. He simply stared straight ahead, as if seeing nothing but his own thoughts.

  "He is an interesting and honest young man," Mother said. "I know you do not wish to be queen, but if you are no longer interested in Master Rennan, I have no reason to deny the prince's offer of marriage."

  "Mother! He believed me a stray when he said those things. It was not a true offer."

  "That is not the instance I am referring to. This afternoon I received an official offer for you, Lady Averella Amal."

  Vrell sighed. "Nor is that his proposal. That comes from his Kingsguards-from your Sir Eagan-for I heard the vote."

  "Regardless, my dear, the offer is excellent and would provide a way to unite this duchy. If you can think of no better refusal than having to admit your falsehoods, I shall have to accept."

  "Be reasonable, Mother! Achan pledges his heart to everyone but Arman. If I married him, it would not be long before he found a prettier wife to replace me. He admitted his temptation to give his heart to every pretty woman he sees."

  "And yet look at him, Averella." She smiled sadly. "Your fear has you imagining a different man, I think."

  Vrell got to her feet. "Perhaps. But as you say, I do not want to be queen. I have studied what happens to kings in Er'Rets. With power comes control and overindulgence. I do not wish to spend my life fending off those who would twist my husband's ear for their own gain or women who would throw themselves at my husband to steal his heart from me."

  "If he has strong advisors, that responsibility would not fall to you alone."

  "Regardless, I do not want that life."

  "Won't you at least consider it? He's a dear young man. He says he has had a recent encounter with Arman."

  "He does? What did he say?"

  "Nothing much. But I sense Arman has his attention. Perhaps your leaving has made him look upward. At any rate, I trust Arman to sharpen his integrity, not weaken it." Mother took Vrell's hand. "This token accompanied the offer." She slid a small metal object into Vrell's palm.

  Vrell crouched, held her hand to the candlelight. A ruby on the king's signet ring gleamed in the pale light, stealing her breath. "Mother." Vrell's voice cracked. She cleared her throat. "Do you know how Achan came to possess this…token?"

  "It is the Hadar ring, passed down from King Echad himself."

  "Yes, but Esek had it, and Achan took it from his finger after having cut off his arm." Vrell shuddered. "Mother, this token is a symbol of violence." To help rescue me, she thought before she could stop herself.

  "That ring is over six hundred years old. It has seen much violence on the hands of kings," Mother said. "It has also seen much joy. Achan is barely a man. His time with this ring has barely started. If he is successful, and Light can be brought back to Er'Rets, I have no doubt this ring will see much joy and happiness on his finger."

  Vrell twisted back to the peephole. Achan still stared forward. What could leave him so blank? She gently reached for his thoughts.

  Achan bolted to his feet, jostling the table and spilling his soup. "Sparrow?"

  Vrell's breath caught and she closed her mind. He must have left his mind open to her, in case she initiated contact.

  Achan scanned the room and ran down the dais steps to the men sitting at the nearest table. "Pardon me, do you know Vrell Sparrow?"

  The men shook their heads.

  Achan asked the same of the next three tables. He returned to the dais and looked up the wall beneath where Vrell hid. He put his good hand on it, his other arm still in its sling. "Sparrow?"

  Vrell doubled her efforts to close her mind. Achan appeared to be staring right up through the peephole. Impossible. Still, she slid back out of sight and stood.

  "Oh, Averella." Mother took her arm. "No more of that."

  Vrell could still hear Achan calling. "Sparrow? Sparrow!"

  She wrinkled her nose, his pleading tone bringing tears to her eyes. "I'm sorry. That was foolish."

  They retrieved their candle and lantern and followed the corridor back to one of the secret rooms on the other side of Mother's study.

  The room held a table and chairs and a cold hearth. Vrell sank into one of the chairs, folded her arms on the table, and laid down her head. Tears burned her eyes.

  She felt Mother's hand on her back. "Do you love him?"

  Vrell lifted her head and blinked away the tears. "I fear I do not know what love is. When I think of Achan, I have very strong feelings. But I once felt the same of Bran and that went away in time. Can love be so easily set aside?"

  Mother claimed the chair beside Vrell's and took her hands. "Sometimes, wanting to be loved is half the passion. You convince yourself it is real because it is new and exciting. And maybe it is true. But that is why young women should not run off with men in the vineyards or traipse across Darkness. When you give your heart to a man who does not or cannot keep it, you lose a part of it and have less to give the next man who comes along. That is how Arman intended it. He designed a whole heart for one man. But alas, it cannot always be."

  Vrell's throat burned at the idea of Achan marrying Lady Halona Pitney. "I confess I allowed Achan to capture my heart-"

  Her eyes widened. That one statement of truth shocked her so much, it opened a flood of tears. She cupped her hands over her nose and mouth and let them come. Somehow her mother's presence made it worse. There was now a witness to the truth. Someone to hold her accountable.

  It was some time before she managed to speak again. "I never intended to, Mother, I swear. And I will not consider him until he pledges his life to Arman. His heart must go to Arman first. That is what you taught me." She sniffled. "So what shall I do?"

  "Pray, dearest child."

  42

  Anillo approached Achan and Shung as they were leaving the great hall. A full breakfast weighed down Achan's belly. Perhaps he would gorge himself daily and become a fat swine king. Why not?

  "The duchess has prepared a private room for your gathering this morning. If you will follow me."

  Anillo led them into the duchess's study on the third floor of the entrance hall. A small, carved desk with a shiny jade surface and matching throne-like chair sat before a wide, brownstone fireplace that stretched to the ceiling. A polished redwood floor matched redwood wainscoting carved in scrolls and flowers. Gilded ivory paneling, murals, and the occasional niche covered the top half of the room. The murals were of vineyards or people making wine, and each niche held a vase or small sculpture of a figure. A floor-to-ceiling tapestry divided each wall into thirds.

  Anillo approached the wall on the east end of the study and touched the chair rail. A click sent an arched niche swinging outward. "For your safety, the duchess has granted you access to her secret meeting rooms and tunnels."

  Anillo steadied the vase on the niche and
motioned for Achan and Shung to enter.

  Shung entered first, then nodded for Achan to enter. Achan ducked sideways through the opening into a dark, narrow corridor, careful not to bump his slinged arm on the doorframe. Anillo followed, holding a pottery lamp. Its single flame gave off plenty of light once Anillo pulled the secret door closed.

  "Are these passageways all over the castle?" Achan asked.

  "Yes, but please, Your Majesty. Do not go exploring alone. The last man who tried got lost and had nearly starved when he stumbled out into the barracks ten days later. I would be happy to give you a quick tour if the duchess agrees."

  "Thank you." Did Armonguard have secret passageways too? Had Sitna?

  Anillo barely moved before knocking on the wall opposite Duchess Amal's study.

  The door swung in, spilling a stripe of yellow light across the dark corridor. This doorway was short and wide. Achan ducked inside after Shung, into small meeting room.

  Sir Gavin and the other knights were seated in high-backed chairs around a long table that held two bright oil lamps, a tray filled with grapes, apples, and tarts, a sweating jug, and a stack of stone cups. A fireplace blazed in the corner.

  A sudden bout of nerves seized Achan's gut at the sight of the empty chair at the head of the table. He poured himself a mug of water and approached the chair, knowing he needed to take charge. The knights continued to proclaim him Crown Prince and tell him what to do. Achan needed to step forward. Either he was the future king or he was not. It was time to decide, time to act.

  He gripped the cham's claw at his neck and squeezed. He'd killed the bear. He could do this.

  Achan pulled out his chair and settled into it. No one spoke to him. They continued their private conversations. Sir Gavin and Inko were arguing whether Esek still lived, and if so, whether he would try another attack. Sir Eagan and Sir Caleb were pouring over a scroll and a scrap of burgundy fabric. Kurtz held a stack of tarts in one hand and popped one into his mouth whole.

  Shung stood beside the secret entrance as if someone might come bursting in at any moment and try to kill Achan.

  Anything was possible in Achan's life, after all.

  Clearly Achan needed to do something to take charge. Speak perhaps? A wave of heat crept up the back of his neck, yet the fire in the hearth seemed no bigger than before.