Sworn To Conflict: Courtlight #3

by Edun, Terah

  “Of course,” Lillian said, dipping into a short curtsy.

  Ciardis had yet to pick up her jaw up off the floor.

  Lillian turned back to Thanar with a delighted whirl. “Now, Prince Thanar, where were we? Ah, yes, what I can do for you.”

  Kane interrupted her speech. “I serve Ciardis in this, not you. Where she goes, I go.” A nervous tic developed on her mother’s face as she responded, “Fine.”

  So she can be fazed, thought Ciardis.

  Thanar waved an irritated hand before she could resume her speech. “It is agreed upon. Now I will heal your son.”

  Lillian clasped her hands in front of her as she watched the Daemoni warrior walk proudly past her with wings spread. She didn’t miss the fact that a wingtip brushed through Ciardis’s hair when he could have easily maneuvered around her.

  He walked to Caemon’s outstretched form that the guards held aloft in a sling.

  “Set him down.”

  They did so silently and backed off a little.

  “Has he moaned or said anything since you came here?” asked Thanar while kneeling down next to Caemon. He looked up impatiently when they didn’t answer.

  “They’re mutes, darling.” Lillian’s laconic drawl drifted forward. “It’s why I chose them.”

  Thanar gave the guards an assessing look but refrained from commenting. Ciardis hurried to stand on the opposite side of Caemon’s still form. She sucked in her breath when she saw him; he was pale and clammy.

  “He’s unconscious,” she said, feeling for his pulse and frantically holding a hand close to his mouth for the telltale sign of gentle breathing.

  “Hurry,” said Ciardis. “It’s so faint.”

  Thanar didn’t look at her. He simply put his hand over Caemon’s heart and pressed down physically and magically. The dark blackness of his Daemoni gifts surged out of his palm to encapsulate Caemon in a misty black veil. It was so thick that Ciardis’s hand was pushed back from where she grasped Caemon’s wrist to capture his pulse. She watched anxiously as the veil first pulsed around Caemon’s still form then surged inside of him and dissipated. She was about to attack Thanar for killing her brother when Caemon surged up and gasped for breath with his entire being.

  Thanar quickly steadied him by holding him up and keeping him from falling. Ciardis watched as little by little the black power rose out of Caemon’s skin, and with it came his rapidly disintegrating bandages, clothes, and then his skin. In amazement she watched as it sloughed off in thick pieces of burnt and torn flesh. Underneath, Caemon’s healthy pale bronze skin shone through, and she sobbed in relief when he looked over at her and smiled.

  “Told you it would be all right,” Caemon said from where he rested in Thanar’s arms.

  In relief she helped him stumble up, and a frost giant appeared out of nowhere with clothes that Caemon gratefully took with a shy smile. When he righted himself again and had assured Ciardis for the tenth time that he could stand on his own, she let him go and hovered anxiously to his left. Thanar stood his right, his hand on Caemon’s lower back, just above Ciardis’s to ensure that Caemon didn’t fall.

  They turned as one to face south, and there stood Lillian Weathervane, looking very pleased.

  “My son,” she crowed. “You’re looking well.”

  Caemon smiled and surged forward to hug her. Into Lillian’s shoulder, he said, “Yes, Mother. I feel so much better. Thank you.”

  Lillian patted his hair soothingly. “No thanks needed. It’s my duty as a mother to care for you.”

  Caemon nodded and stepped back.

  Thanar crossed his arms and said, “As much as I’m enjoying this family reunion, I don’t want to be here when the Imperial buffoons get back.”

  Ciardis eyed her mother and Thanar nervously. What were they planning?

  “Of course,” Lillian said. She snapped her fingers, and out of the darkness beyond the other side of the cage walked Lady Vana and the Lord Chamberlain.

  “Are we ready?” said Vana shortly.

  “We are,” said Lillian with a small smile. She motioned to the group. “Caemon, Ciardis, Kane, Inga, and Inga’s warriors, please join in a circle with the Lord Chamberlain and Lady Vana.”

  They all shuffled forward to do as she asked. Ciardis halted stubbornly back.

  Lillian turned back to her and said to the Lord Chamberlain, “Prepare them.”

  To her daughter, she said, “What is it, Ciardis?”

  Ciardis looked at the gathered group and back at her mother. At last, she said, “It looks like you’re leaving.”

  “Didn’t I tell you we must bring the Imperial Court to its knees?” Lillian said with her hands spread. “To do that we need to be there.”

  “But—” Ciardis said.

  “But you don’t want to leave the Prince Heir.”

  Ciardis felt the subtle hint of judgment in her mother’s tone. It was true, she didn’t.

  “Can’t we bring him with us?” Ciardis said quietly.

  Lillian shook her head. “For now, no. He is part of the problem, Ciardis, not the solution.”

  “Sebastian has never participated in any of the horrible things that have happened here,” Ciardis cried.

  “Maybe not,” said Lillian patiently, “but he has done nothing to halt them, either.”

  “He is trying to now.”

  Lillian shook her head sadly. “I know how important he is to you, Ciardis. Believe me, I know. But to save the empire, to defeat the bluttgott, and to get justice, we must act quickly. We must act now. And Prince Heir Sebastian isn’t ready for that.”

  That was true. But Ciardis wasn’t convinced. Seeing her wariness, her brother came away from the circle.

  “We’re family, Ciardis,” Caemon said. “Blood. We have to do this together.”

  “And Prince Heir Sebastian will come to court eventually,” said Lillian quickly. “He will return when he realizes the threat cannot be contained.”

  At the word “threat,” Ciardis shivered. “And what if the massive army waiting at Ban’s Gate attacks him while I’m gone?”

  “They won’t,” assured Thanar, who had been observing their conversation. “The hordes will only move when the blutgott opens the gate. He cannot open it as long as he exists on another plane. He must come through first. Until then they will wait. They will not attack. They will not venture out of the chasm.”

  Ciardis swallowed deeply. They had to stop the old god before it came to that. Before more innocent people died. “And before any harm can to Sebastian,” she whispered silently to herself.

  She looked up and said firmly, “Shall we go, then?”

  Proud smiles lit her brother and her mother’s faces as they clasped hands and stood in the mage’s circle.

  The Lord Chamberlain led the enchantment. The amulet from earlier now hung from his neck on a slender chain and it pulsed with power—the power of three Weathervanes working in conjunction. As the circle held hands and the golden glow of the Weathervane power spread outward, they disappeared in a flash of light.

  When the glow had faded and Ciardis could see again, she saw that they stood on a quiet side street. A side street in the midst of a large city. She could hear children playing in the courtyard next door, the rumble of wagons on cobblestones, and smelled the unique aroma of refuse and sweat that only a city could claim.

  Turning quickly to the small gate in front of them, the Lord Chamberlain whispered, “Quickly! Inside!” He ushered them forward into a small garden and from there into the kitchen of a small manor. A woman was peeling potatoes, and she looked at them askance as she took in the Daemoni, the frost giants, and the scraggly humans that walked past her with heads held high.

  “Ingrid,” hissed the Lord Chamberlain, “enough of your foolish staring. Prepare a meal.”

  The woman closed her mouth and nearly scraped off the skin of her finger when she tried to go back to peeling without looking down.

  As the group exited the kitch
en, the Lord Chamberlain hastily added after looking back at the frost giantesses, “A large one.”

  The cook nodded and got to work.

  He ushered his guests to the sitting parlor. The frost giantesses chose to stand, knowing that any of the furniture would break under them like kindling.

  “Where are we?” asked Ciardis.

  “The Nobles’ quarter of Sandrin,” said the Lord Chamberlain, perspiration beginning to form on his brow.

  Funny, thought Ciardis. Dump that man in the middle of a war and he’s as cool as a cucumber. Add a little court intrigue and as he’s as nervous as a hen over a nest.

  Lillian wandered over to the large window and traced a finger over the glossy hardwood. “And when is the ball?”

  “Tomorrow,” said the Lord Chamberlain with some confusion.

  Lillian smiled out into the rapidly darkening evening. “Perfect.”

  She turned to the Lord Chamberlain with a crafty smile. “I trust you can get us proper attire to attend the festivities.”

  He looked around at the group. “All of you?”

  Lillian waved her hand. “Of course not. Just myself, Caemon, Vana, and Ciardis.”

  Kane stood up, a clear protest.

  “And Kane,” she said demurely, without batting an eyelash.

  When Inga and Thanar looked at her, she became annoyed. “Don’t even think about it. There are no kith in court. We want to make a scene tomorrow night, one the nobles will remember for decades to come, but we don’t want to be thrown in jail.”

  Ciardis blinked and took a swig of the fire spirit offered to her by the servant. It looked like she’d need it.

  *****

  Later that night Lillian came to her room.

  “Ciardis,” Lillian said as she entered the room, and her daughter sat up slowly, balancing her upper body on her elbows. Ciardis watched as Lillian approached the bed and sat down.

  “I know we haven’t spent much time together and didn’t really get off on the right foot, but I have the best interests of our family at heart,” she said, grasping one of Ciardis’s hands with both of her own. “I promise you.”

  Ciardis nodded. “I know that you always think of blood first.”

  Lillian smiled, genuinely pleased that Ciardis was understanding her, or at least trying to.

  “Now,” said Lillian, “we’ll be going to court with Lady Vana, but I don’t trust her. I know she has protected you before, but she has a lot of secrets. Dark ones.”

  And you don’t? Ciardis thought.

  “Is that it, Mother?” Ciardis said aloud.

  “We need to prepare for tomorrow night’s events, but I suppose we can do that when your brother is with us.”

  Ciardis nodded. Lillian got up to leave.

  “Mother,” Ciardis said, lifting her hand to catch her attention.

  Lillian looked back at her.

  Ciardis said, “Before you go, I want to know something. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Lillian looked down at her carefully.

  Ciardis persisted. “We’ve been living together, training together for months...and you couldn’t tell me? Your own daughter?”

  “Ciardis, it was for your own protection,” Lillian said. “I told you who you were. From there it was your job to find out more.”

  “It was your duty to tell me who you were,” Ciardis shouted, finally angered.

  “You left me defenseless without anyone who could truly guide my powers,” she accused. “I did more harm than good.”

  “I was keeping you out of danger.”

  “By refusing to teach me anything? By stilting my progress?”

  “You don’t know how dangerous court truly can be.”

  “No, I don’t,” snapped Ciardis. “And whose fault is that? If you hadn’t killed the empress and been accused of treason, we wouldn’t be here. I would have grown up where I belonged. Not eked out a living as laundress in a hovel on the outskirts of the empire.”

  Lillian’s face hardened as she whispered in a taut voice, “You have no idea what I went through living here, or any idea how lucky you were.”

  Ciardis glared at her from her bed. Lillian left without another word, slamming the door behind her and leaving Ciardis to fall back on to her pillows in a slump and cry herself to sleep.

  The next day they spent sequestered in the Lord Chamberlain’s manor home. Tailors, hairdressers, seamstresses, and assorted merchants came and went. Ciardis only saw the people necessary for specific tasks for a few minutes before they were promptly ushered out. When evening fell, the whole group was ready.

  Ciardis took a moment to walk out on the second floor balcony of her bedroom. When she heard the click of the lock of her door, she turned to face who was entering. Gossamer curtains fluttered around her as she took in her mother. Lillian walked across the bedroom to the balcony with the grace and presence of one used to attention. And Ciardis couldn’t fault her for that. Her mother was beautiful. As Ciardis took in the royal blue gown that flared out in delicate waves of chiffon and the sea blue sapphire necklace that lay with soft brilliance at the base of her neck she couldn’t help but admire her mother. But admiration quickly shifted to unease when she looked at her mother’s face and hair. An illusion. A beautiful one but an illusion nevertheless.

  She pursed her lips in distaste. Lillian frowned as she stood in front of Ciardis, “Something wrong?”

  “I thought you would be my mother once more,” Ciardis said in a quiet voice.

  Lillian looked at her in surprise, “I always have been dear.”

  “Not like this,” Ciardis said in defiance, “Not with blond hair and blue eyes. As Lillian Weathervane. The true Lillian Weathervane.”

  Lillian ducked her head and bit her lip as she thought for a moment.

  “She’s right mother,” Caemon said from the open bedroom door where he leaned casually.

  Standing straight he came forward, “If we’re going to do this we need to do it right. From the beginning.”

  Lillian looked from one twin and the other, then she agreed. She dropped the illusion and her darker skin and wavy chestnut curls appeared. Ciardis smiled. Caemon nodded. The Weathervane family was prepared to rise once more.

  “Then shall we,” Lillian said while placing her hand in the crook of her son’s elbow.

  But as they descended down the manor steps, another problem presented itself. Thanar and Inga stood at the base, defiantly and with their arms crossed.

  “We’re coming,” Thanar said simply.

  Lillian stepped forward. “No, you’re not.”

  Thanar smiled a dark smile. “If you’re surrounded by enemies, what better person to have at your back than the enemy of your enemy?”

  Lillian waved a hand dismissively. “If I was worried about you betraying me, believe me, you wouldn’t be standing there.”

  Thanar wings rose slightly in threat. “Watch out, Lillian. You may not be able to back up that threat.”

  “I assure you, I can.”

  Ciardis coughed and stepped forward. “Why do you want to come, Inga?”

  “You’re going to be encircled by wolves in that ball, Ciardis. Better to have a sword at your back.”

  Caemon was leaning on the staircase banner. “A display of strength.”

  “Yes,” said Inga.

  “And more than that a display of allies,” said Ciardis, quickly catching on.

  Lillian looked from her children to the two kith who stood before them while casually tracing her finger along her bottom lip.

  “I think it might work. Having powerful allies in places the nobles would have never thought before,” Lillian she finally declared. “We certainly will never make such a grand entrance again.”

  “Never say never,” Thanar intoned softly.

  Lillian looked at him sharply. Daemoni were notorious seers as well as notorious liars.

  Decided they all left as a group. Thanar had elected to wear leather pants and little else
. Ciardis had to admit it showed off the swirl of tattoos on his upper body quite nicely. Inga stayed clothed as she was, but Lillian had hurriedly gotten the servants to wash and dry the frost giant’s blood stained garments with magic.

  Dressed in enough finery to rival the greatest courtiers of the Algardis Empire, the Weathervane family descended in front of the well-lit gala in three gorgeous carriages. As they exited their carriages, Lillian Weathervane walked proudly in front with her twin children on either side. Kane and Vana walked slight behind them, and Thanar and Inga walked to their right and left respectively to complete the entourage.

  As they walked forward, individuals were already staring. Several women snapped open fans to hurriedly whisper behind them to their companions in the wake of the glamorous family that had just walked past. When they reached the ballroom doors and the butler looked for the announcement card from which to call out their names, he blanched upon seeing what Lillian had written on the cards for herself, Ciardis and Caemon.

  He couldn’t turn to anyone else for guidance. Instead his eyes pleaded with Lillian to say that the card issued was a mistake. She just smiled and nodded at him to continue on.

  The man gulped and nodded at the guards to open the ballroom doors. Thanar, Inga, and Kane descended to the ballroom floor by a discreet side entrance. Vana stayed with the family as a protection and, Ciardis was sure, to keep an eye on her mother.

  The butler stepped out in front of the gathered crowds below, cleared his throat, and announced over a crowd a flurry with the arrival of a new noble clan, one they hadn’t seen before.

  “Lady Ciardis Weathervane.” Ciardis stepped forward in front of her brother and swept down the grand staircase, her head held high.

  “Lord Caemon Weathervane.” Caemon followed after her at a stately pace, looking every inch the lord. You’d never know he’d been enslaved his entire life.

  And then the crowd grew hushed as the butler paused and gathered his wits.

  “Lady Lillian Weathervane.” Her mother swept down the grand staircase with a grace that rivaled any other.

  She joined her son and daughter and they swept forward on the purple carpet down the center of the ballroom. Straight toward the seated Emperor of Algardis.