“I’m sure they do,” she said. “And they are right.”
Memories of their past together and repressed old feelings returned with an uncanny swiftness, all from his kiss, and made her wonder if the prince didn’t have a little magic of his own. Sertorius stared at her, not knowing he had just made her remember every detail of her father’s workshop; the sound of his hammer pounding out steel on the anvil, how John Mandrake had sweated over the fire, and how at night, when the city was quiet, he’d sit beside her bed reading books of fabulous stories and ancient legends to her. She knew her father had loved her, and she had loved him, but had no memory of her mother.
“What are you thinking?” Sertorius asked.
“About the past. I remember studying with you and your private tutors, learning arithmetic and history. Chasing each other through the castle and turning the armory upside-down playing soldiers. My father and I sat at banquet with your father and brothers a few times, but I don’t recall what they look like. Nor did they ever take notice of me.”
“Almaric often took us on long rides at sunset,” he said. “Sometimes my brothers came with us. Galinn was quite fond of you. Konall was the shy one, and Dinadan only noticed other boys. Sometimes your father would bring you to worship Sunday evenings, and I would watch you instead of listening to the sermons.” He suddenly laughed. “I remember the first time I ever kissed you was in the royal orchard, the scent of lavender in the air. Do you remember?”
“Yes,” Taliesin said.
All the memories of her childhood were hers once more, as were the doubts and questions yet unanswered about her parents. Now she was grown, it made no sense a swordsmith and his daughter had been graced with so much royal attention. She let Sertorius kiss her again, though she felt none of the passion she’d felt with Roland, and wondered why.
“Rosamond, oh Rosamond, how have I spent half my life without you,” Sertorius said, pulling her onto the sand beside him. He held her hand and toyed with her fingers. “And to think my happiness involved one lone raven feather that floated from the sky and landed on my lap as I was riding but yesterday. It was so strange, but when I looked up, I saw a black bird flying overhead, in a place where no raven is ever found. When I touched the feather, I suddenly remembered everything about you, about us, about your father, and about those happy days at court.” He laughed again and leaned against her shoulder. “I’ve always suspected my father didn’t approve of you, for he feared we might marry; so when you vanished from court, I realize it was to keep us apart. I’m sure my father knew you were at Raven’s Nest, adopted by Master Osprey, but I wish I’d known sooner.”
“A raven feather made you remember all these things?”
“Yes,” he said. “It sounds silly, doesn’t it?”
Taliesin wondered what Zarnoc was hoping to gain by bringing the prince into her life. If he meant to be helpful, he actually caused more confusion than happiness. Sertorius reached into a pouch on his belt, removed a feather, and handed it to her. Taking it, she slid it across her face, felt no magic, and placed it into her own pouch.
“You don’t mind, do you? It reminds me of home,” Taliesin said. “Maybe you know the Wolf Pack burned Raven’s Nest to the ground, and my clan was taken hostage. I don’t know what’s happened to them, Sertorius. We’ve been running ever since. It’s not the Eagle Clan that worries me, not as much as the Wolf Clan, and what they may do to my people.”
“Rosamond, I swear I’ll send a messenger to my father and tell him what has happened to the Raven Clan. If you need anything to help you on your quest, then you have but to ask,” he said. “I can see in your eyes something troubles you. I’ll call you Taliesin if you prefer, but honestly, with that reddish gold hair, it’s too dark a name for you. I much prefer your real name. Let me call you Rosamond and kiss you again.”
“We’re not children anymore, Sertorius,” Taliesin said. “It was a long time ago, and I’m not the girl you remember. So much has happened these last twenty years. Yes, it’s been that long since I saw you. Nor are you the boy I remember. You’ve changed, too.”
“Is it not to our advantage to be adults, who can do what they want without having to answer to our fathers?”
Sertorius’ voice was melodious and sweeter than honey. Taliesin knew he expected her to melt at his words, so she played along, placed her head on his shoulder, and let him toy with her fingers and kiss the palm of her hand, as he’d done many years ago.
“You’ve every right to be angry with me, Rosamond. You were angry with me when we last parted. I was a fool for giving your necklace to another. Children do not think about the consequences of their actions. Now, I think I did it to make you jealous.”
“One little feather, and now you remember everything?” Taliesin laughed, keeping it light between them. “I’ll admit I’d forgotten about you until I got a strong whiff of the marsh gas. I was so dizzy I fell into the pool, and that’s when you found me.”
“It’s fate,” he said. “That’s what it is. We were meant to be reunited; I know that now, and I care as much for you now as I did then,” he said. “I did love you, Rosamond. More than you realize. Time can’t change true love, Rosamond. What we had was real, despite our tender age, and I am happier than I’ve ever been, now that I’ve found you again.”
“Do you know how my father died? I don’t even know where he was buried. I’ve never returned to Padama. One day, I should like to visit his grave.”
His brows knit together. When the prince spoke, his tone was harsh, “I don’t know how Mandrake died, but I blame myself for not being there when the Raven Clan came for you,” he said. “Almaric told me after the funeral that our father intended to send you away to a convent where noble girls were often sent to study to be ladies. Almaric never approved of our friendship; he thought it wrong for a prince to consort with the working class. I hated him for saying it, and I hated my father for wanting to send you away from me. I suppose that’s why most of my life I’ve rebelled against both of them. But let’s not talk about them. You are here now, with me, and the years of absence are fading away as if they never existed. I’d love to hear about Raven’s Nest. Was it really built inside an ancient oak tree?”
“It was a beautiful place,” she admitted, “far more magical than Tantalon Castle where you grew up. The tree stood over one hundred feet tall, and on the limbs were rooms with balconies, reached by a contraption built by my adopted father that we called the Bird Cage. It went all the way to the top of the tree, to the aviary, and from there you could see for miles.”
“I’m sure it was lovely,” he said. “You make it sound that way.”
“It was. I didn’t think so when I lived there, but now that it’s gone, it’s the one place I wish I could return.”
“Let’s go to my tent. My armor is filled with sand, and I can change while we talk.”
Rising to his feet, Sertorius offered his hand, and together they walked to an elaborate pavilion set among the palm trees, well away from the nomads and camels. A servant waited inside a tent that, unlike Zarnoc’s magical tent, was sparsely furnished, with only a bedroll laid out on a rug. Setting aside his sword, the prince held out his arms as his armor and boots were removed. His thin white shirt and loose white slacks were cut from expensive silk and his bare feet were clean and without calluses; she noticed everything as he sat on the rug beside Taliesin. Another servant entered, carrying a flask of water and a plate of food similar to what she’d eaten earlier. His saddle was brought in, covered with his cloak, and used as a backrest. Humble furnishings, yet everything was of high quality.
“Rosamond, will you join me for dinner? Have something to eat?”
“I’ve already dined,” she said. “The last few days of riding have worn me out. I really must return to my tent to rest. As long as you and your men remain hospitable, as you have been, I won’t have my wizard turn you into eels. Are we clear on this?”
The prince spit out the stone of a
date he’d devoured. “You are blunt and to the point,” he said, laughing. “I shall be the same. I’m aware you’re headed to the Cave of the Snake God, but my path lies behind the mountains. I am going to Dunatar Castle. My interest in you has nothing to do with your magic abilities or a magical sword.”
“You’re not going to stop me, or sell me to the Wolf Pack or the Eagle Clan? They’re on our trail, have been from the start, and I thought you had the same intentions. If I am wrong, then please forgive me, but this—your sweet words, the fond memories—it’s in the past, Sertorius. But, if I am right, say what you want from me.”
“By Stroud, you are relentless when you want the truth out of a man,” he said, wiping his hands on a kerchief. “Very well. I’ll be just as blunt. My interest in you is purely of the heart, an old friendship renewed. I wondered what happened to you all those years ago, and now I’ve found you. Exploiting you and blackmail is beneath me. Nor do I seduce a woman merely to get her to do what I want; at least, not from a political standpoint. Whatever I want, I can get for myself, and I always have; no sha’tar is going to change my stars. My father will keep his throne, Almaric will be subdued, and I will be the chosen as heir. Simple enough. No magical sword or clan rivalry stands in my way or holds any interest to me. Leave if you feel you must.” He returned to his meal. “Or stay and talk to me. Whatever pleases you.”
A minute slowly ticked past as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Taliesin wanted to believe the prince. His reputation was hardly the solid bricks to build a foundation for friendship, and memories did not make bricks at all. Apart from his handsome face and pretty compliments, he offered her nothing, only his company. Unless this was just another trap; she considered that as she decided whether to talk or to return to her tent for some much-needed rest.
“My father and brother, Dinadan, wait in Tantalon Castle for my return,” Sertorius said, slicing into an eel and assuming she intended to stay. “Almaric will soon attack, that I know, and I have little time to raise an army to help them. I’m well aware of an army in the south, raised by the Erindorian faction, but I have no reason to trust Lord Arundel, Duke Fakar, or Grand Master Banik. Erindor may yet side with Almaric, and if Konall and I are unable to raise our own army, it will come to who can pay the most to obtain the southerners’ help. What I won’t do is leave the fate of the kingdom to the whims of the Eagle Clan, Wolf Clan, or any knightly orders who are interested only in competing with one another for fame and glory. Nor do I trust any of the dukes, and that includes Fortinbraus and de Boron. Is that plain enough for you?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Ringerike won’t win any battles unless it’s carried by an heir of Korax, and none exists,” he said, wiping grease from his lips. “I’d throw the sword into the sea, along with every other magical weapon, if I had the means to find them all. My father and I share that in common; neither of us has any love for magic. When I am king, I will make certain there is no magic in the realm or any magic users except, perhaps, for one pretty sha’tar.”
“I can’t make a spoon dance,” Taliesin said. “I tried. I don’t have that type of magic.”
Sertorius laughed. “But you do have the ability to find magical weapons,” he said. “Everyone knows the dukes still own their ancestral weapons; Duke Galatyn of Bavol has the sword Flamberge, Duke Dhul Fakar possesses a magical scimitar called Tizona, and my cousin, Peergynt, has the Horn of Bran. Duke Vortigern of Scrydon gave his ancestral sword, Trembler, to Almaric, who has also managed to get his hands on Traeden, stolen right out of the royal armory. The Wolf Clan has Duke Hrothgar’s sword, Doomsayer, and I’m sure the Eagle Clan has quite a few of their own. All those swords had their magic purged, so they say, and it would take a sha’tar to restore them to full power, which puts you in a rather difficult position. Everyone wants you.”
Taliesin thought of the Battle of Bernlak. It was impossible not to feel angry for the death of Duke Hrothgar Volgan and his brother Jasper Silverhand.
“Why did you kill the Volgan brothers?” Taliesin said, helping herself to a date. “They were loyal to your father. If, as you say, you wanted to help your father, then killing two loyal lords seems to me to be the wrong way to go about it. Did Peergynt put you up to it?”
“It’s not like that at all. Hrothgar and his bastard brother thought I had the Deceiver’s Map and attacked me. Peergynt was obliged to protect me. The battle, however, could have been avoided,” Sertorius said, angrily. “We were played against one another, you see, thanks to the Eagle Clan. You can be sure Lord Arundel knows you are a sha’tar; so does Chief Lykus, and that means Almaric knows. You are in great danger. Not from me, of course. The nobles are all trying to get their hands on magical weapons. The laws of Caladonia still support slaying magic users, but I’ll convince my father such weapons are needed if we are going to defeat Almaric. I don’t approve of magic, but if it can help, then so be it.”
Taliesin watched his eyes, his lips, and every inch of him, waiting for Sertorius to give himself away. He had to be lying to her—all men lied. But he did nothing more than drink wine and finish his dinner.
“If you were king, you could change the law,” she said. “Magic isn’t evil, just evil men who use it for evil deeds. You could change the laws and help people instead of dividing them. You could end the feud between the nomads and the gypsies; the feud between the clans, and restore my clan to its former status. Magic users need not be punished or live their lives in hiding, but could be sent to schools to be taught to use magic for good, not evil.”
“Is that what you want? To restore magic to the realm?”
“Maybe,” she said. “I certainly don’t think people should be burned at the stake for being born magic users or learning to use magic.”
The prince clapped his hands. A servant, standing at the back of the tent, removed the plates and left them alone. Sertorius stretched out on his bedroll, using the saddle as a pillow, and placed one arm across his chest.
“You have told me how you feel,” he said, “and now we have no more secrets between us and can talk freely. I do not want the throne, not at all. I am the youngest prince, and have four living brothers ahead of me. I am content to play peacekeeper and ambassador. All my brothers have faults, as do I, but Almaric is the worst. The servants often found dead cats in his room; he likes to kill things. I believe he killed Galinn. He will try to kill Konall, Dinadan, and me, if he is able to find me. Another reason I go to Garridan—it’s far from home.”
“Sir Roland of the White Stag does not think well of you,” she said. “He says you want the throne for yourself. His grand master is from Erindor, the cousin of Duke Fakar, and Fakar is Arundel’s best friend. Things have been said to the order about you. These men all claim you want the throne for yourself and will kill anyone who gets in your way.”
Sertorius reached out and patted her leg. “You just say that because you were at the Battle of Burnlak,” he said, “and so were Sir Roland and his order. It’s no wonder you are confused. Find your sword and do with it what you want. I care not.”
Taliesin wondered how much she could confide in the prince, and found she wanted to tell him everything. “Lord Arundel had Xander arrange for Sir Roland to plant the map on the battlefield,” she said. “I was meant to find it. They want me to locate Ringerike. But I have no intention of letting anyone have Ringerike but me. I won’t let Arundel or Lykus, the king or your older brother have the sword. Nor will I give it to you.”
“But I don’t want Ringerike, darling,” Sertorius said, yawning. She lay next to him, not touching, but close enough to feel the warmth of his lean body. “Both Arundel and Lykus want to control whoever sits on the Ebony Throne. They say Arundel is a merman, you know, and must sit in salt water five hours a day or he’ll grow gills and fins. Lykus, too, is supposedly a monster. Those wolves that attacked us at the Volgate are not wolves at all, but what they call Wolfen. They are like werewolves, but both breeds are monsters that
parade around in the skins of men in daylight. I’d destroy them all, if I were king.”
“What about me?”
“There’s no reason to have any clans when everything could be departmentalized and run by a secretary or nobleman. Nor is there any reason for you find this sword or lead your own clan. Why not just marry and build a life for yourself? Start today.”
“Are you proposing to me?” Taliesin laughed. He didn’t. “You’re being silly, just like when you were a boy, making things up just to get me to believe in you, only to turn right around and laugh in my face. I’m not falling for it this time, Sertorius. I’m not a little girl.”
The prince rolled to his side and lifted his hand to her cheek. His manner was tender, and gave her the impression he actually cared, so she let him pull her closer. They lay side-by-side and listened to the sound of a breeze whipping through the palm leaves and pulling at the sides of the tent, the grunting of the camels, and the soft talk of the men. He took her hand and placed their hands across his chest.
“Let’s talk about us,” he said. “Being with you here is something I never expected to happen. Had I known where to find you, what was really going on, Rosamond, I would have come for you and offered my protection, such as it is. I want you to feel you can trust me, but I can’t tell you what to do. I can only win your trust by my actions; that’s the only way to judge a man. Marrying me is not such a bad idea, though.”
“You’re still teasing me,” she said. “I can’t get involved in this civil war, Sertorius. I just want to find Ringerike so it can’t be used by someone else. It’s the most powerful sword ever created, and I can’t let it fall into the hands of the enemy.”
“If there are enemies, then you have chosen sides,” Sertorius said. “You have chosen to protect the Raven Clan, as you should.” He released her hand and pointed at the entrance, a yawn escaping before he could cover his mouth. “Now, since you think it best not to marry me, I must not keep you here any longer. You had best return to your tent, Rosamond. You smell good, and I may take advantage, for you seem willing enough.”
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