“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 Echâd 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.
COMMIT TO ME WHATEVER YOU DO, AND YOUR PLANS WILL SUCCEED.
Achan smiled, relieved. Of course. Thank you for the direction, Arman.
He took one last gulp of water, scooted back his chair—which scraped loudly over the rough wooden floor—and stood. All eyes turned to him.
“Achan,” Sir Caleb said. “We’ve received an acceptance for—”
“A moment, please, Sir Caleb,” Achan said. “I feel we should first commit this meeting to Arman, so he may bless our endeavors.”
Suddenly he had the knights’ full attention. They watched Achan silently.
“Quite so, Your Majesty.” Sir Caleb smiled and started to stand.
Achan held up his left hand. “Thank you, Sir Caleb, but…I’ll do it.”
Sir Caleb lowered himself back into his seat and stared at Achan, bushy blond eyebrows raised.
Achan bowed his head as he would before any great leader. “Arman, we come together this morning to discuss our plans to obey your call. You’ve set me apart as king, so I ask you to come, hear our plans, and speak, should you like to. We’ll be listening for your voice in all we discuss. Thank you for Duchess Amal’s support. She’s everything I could have hoped for in a new comrade. So may it be as you say.”
“So be it,” the knights said.
Achan took a deep breath. “Now that you’ve all had your say, it’s my turn. Here’s what I plan to do. I’d like your opinions as to whether my choices be wise.”
Achan fought to keep the tremor in his joints out of his voice. “First, I appoint Sir Gavin Lukos as commander over all the armies. Each duke or duchess loyal to me may suggest generals to Sir Gavin and me. Each general, once appointed, may determine his own captains and ranks as he sees fit. Yet Sir Gavin will be over them all to instruct and lead.
“Those in service to Prince Oren Hadar will return to him. I no longer fear for Gren’s life. If Esek is still alive, he will soon be far too busy to harass my loved ones. Therefore Jax mi Katt, Sir Rigil Barak, and Bran Rennan will seek out their next order from Prince Oren. I’ll ask my uncle to command the southern troops and Mârad and that he and Sir Gavin be in constant communication with each other and me so that, in time, we can coordinate our efforts.
“I appoint Sir Caleb Agros, Sir Eagan Elk, and Inko son of Mopti as my royal advisors. Kurtz Chazir, you’re a fighting man. My inclination is to put you to Sir Gavin, but what is your will?”
Eyes wide, Kurtz swallowed whatever bit of food he had in his mouth. “What are my choices, Pac—Your Highness?”
“I’ve given you three: service to Sir Gavin, Prince Oren, or myself. Unless you have a fourth idea?”
Kurtz frowned. “No, Your Highness. If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to stay with Gavin, I would.”
“Very well. I had thought to appoint Trajen Yorbride as my priest, though his children are so young and he has such a strong flock in Melas, I hate to filch their leader. Ideas?”
“I am sure Duchess Amal would have a suggestion,” Sir Eagan said.
“Could you ask her?”
“I will.”
“Good.” He paused, waiting to see what the men had to say of his ideas so far. When no one spoke, he continued.
“War is upon us, gentlemen. Esek commands the New Kingsguard and several powerful duchies, including most of what lies in Darkness. He fields an army whose size and location we must determine. Sir Gavin, please see to this.
“The task before us, as I see it, is to unite all of Er’Rets under my rule, so that Arman’s rule may extend through it and thus eradicate Darkness. Our first task must be to raise a bigger army than we have now. Then, once Sir Gavin’s scouts have located Esek’s army, we must make our way to Armonguard. It is the prize, I feel. One Esek would already possess if he hadn’t been so obsessed with destroying me.”
“A fine plan, Your Majesty,” Sir Gavin said, beaming.
“Have you tried to see into Esek’s mind?” Sir Eagan asked.
Achan had never even considered it and suddenly felt foolish. “I haven’t. An excellent suggestion, Sir Eagan, thank you. I shall do so directly following our time here.” Achan paused and took a quick drink. He expected someone to jump in and contribute, but the men simply stared. He set his cup down with a trembling hand.
“We need to determine the agenda of this New Council that Duchess Amal spoke of. We should also consider what other forces might come against us—apart from Esek. There are the black knights—led by the shadow sorcerer, Hadad, perhaps? We must discover this man’s identity.”
The sooner the better, for Achan hadn’t told anyone about hearing Hadad’s voice again since Barth.
“Jaelport also seems to have plans of their own. Lord Nathak. We now know he has a motive apart from Esek’s. I cannot say whether Esek will join him or strike out on his own, or if he’s dead. Add Lord Levy and Macoun Hadar to the list of opposition. Then there are the Poroo and Eben forces. They likely support one of the factions mentioned.”
“Yes, but which is it being?” Inko asked.
“I’d guess Poroo fights alongside Barth, eh? And the Ebens have partnered with Jaelport,” Kurtz said.
“We cannot guess,” Sir Eagan said. “We must know.”
“I’ve never been knowing an Eben to associate with a Jaelportian,” Inko said.
“You think the Ebens are with Barth, then?” Kurtz asked.
“The Eben we were slaying was giving us Lord Falkson’s name” Inko said. “But is Lord Falkson to be serving Esek or Hadad? And who is Jaelport to be serving?”
“I believe Jaelport serves Jaelport,” Sir Caleb said.
Achan lowered himself into his chair. The men had gone off debating, but he’d said what he’d planned to. No one had disagreed. Did that mean they agreed? He shifted his sling arm and reached for a tart. He’d done enough for today. He’d taken the floor and made his appointments. It was a start.
“Lord Levy paid Eben mercenaries to keep Prince Oren’s Mârad from traveling into Mahanaim,” Sir Caleb said.
“You’re suggesting Lord Levy was sending the Ebens after us in Darkness?” Inko asked. “And not Lord Falkson?”
“If he had a business relationship with them already, maybe he paid them to get Achan back to Mahanaim. Maybe Lord Levy and Lord Falkson work for Hadad.”
“According to Vrell, skilled archers aided the Poroo who attacked Esek’s procession,” Sir Eagan said. “Who may have wanted to kill Esek?”
Achan tensed at the mention of Sparrow. “Anyone who has met him.”
The men laughed and continued their debate. Achan couldn’t help but think of Sparrow. She had opened her mind to him yesterday. Why? Did she want to speak? Did she wonder where he was? Was she nearby? And why open her mind only to close it again so quickly? What was the matter with her?
The men talked until the food tray was empty and their stomachs growled for lunch. Achan decided to concl
ude for today. Sir Caleb would work on recruiting new men. Sir Gavin would send out scouts. And Sir Eagan would speak with Duchess Amal about a suitable priest.
Anillo arrived to see whether they would like lunch brought in, but Sir Caleb jumped to his feet. “Your Highness, I almost forgot you’ve not yet heard our good news. Sir Eagan, please, you tell him.”
Sir Eagan reached for the scroll wrapped around a swatch of burgundy satin. He turned his piercing blue eyes to Achan. “Duchess Amal has accepted our offer.”
“Which offer?” Achan could hardly keep up with all the tasks to be done.
“Your offer to wed her eldest daughter, Lady Averella.”
A chill ran over Achan’s arms. “Oh.”
Sir Eagan held up the scroll and passed it to Sir Caleb, who passed it to Sir Gavin, who handed it to Achan. Achan unrolled it, hands shaking, and set the fabric aside. He anchored the top of the scroll with his cup and held the bottom with his fingertips. The neat and curvy writing took him longer to read than he would have liked with everyone watching.
Your Royal Highness, Prince Gidon Hadar, otherwise known as Achan Cham,
It is with great honor that I received your request for my daughter’s hand in marriage. I must confess she had long ago pledged her hand to another. Time and recent events have changed that matter, however, and I assure you her relationship with her previous suitor has desisted peaceably with no harm to her virtue.
I vouchsafe to you my eldest daughter and heir, Lady Averella Amal, to wed once Armonguard has passed into your hands. As a token of this agreement, I have enclosed a sleeve from one of Averella’s gowns. I chose one of the colors of Carmine so that when you wear this token wherever you go, people will know of our alliance.
Though this wedding be delayed, I pray Arman give you patience to endure until the day you kiss your bride. Until then, allow me to think of you as my son.
To Darkness Fled (Blood of Kings, book 2) Page 53