Amane of Teravinea - The Crown (The Teravinea Series Book 3)

by D. Maria Trimble

  Faetor shrugged his acceptance of Ansel’s ancestry. The look on his face and the shift of his eyes revealed something untrustworthy. As to what it regarded, I could only guess.

  “I offer you an apology, Lord Ansel. I am not from Teravinea. I agree I should learn the history of this place I now consider my home. Please accept my invitation to join me for the midday meal. I have an excellent kitchen staff. They will be serving soon. It will be an honor if you would join me. We can discuss the purpose of your visit over my chef’s specialty, spit-roasted boar.”

  I was repulsed by the way he licked his lips. Certainly this pig-of-a-man had missed few meals. He placed more emphasis on the roasted boar than sincerity in his apology.

  “We will accept your invitation, Lord Faetor.” Ansel swept his hand to include the Healer, Eben and me.

  The lord’s eyes flashed disappointment. I caught the fact he excluded us. Ansel was quick to remedy the situation in a way the lord could not oppose.

  “Very well.” Faetor gestured at his steward, who backed away before he turned and hurried out of the room.

  Lord Faetor slid off his large throne-like chair. I politely looked away as I fought the vision in my head of a child trying to come down from an adult-size seat. I commended myself on my control, the urge to laugh nearly won.

  We were ushered along a lengthy hallway. Large marble sculptures of great warriors stood on either side. They reached the height of nearly three men. Massive double doors opened to the great dining hall. The Healer and Ansel were directed to sit on one side of a long table, Eben and I across from them. Lord Faetor already sat at the head of the table in an ornately decorated chair, slightly elevated above ours. It contrasted the plain chairs in which we sat.

  This man used every opportunity to show dominance. I thought to myself, it must have something to do with his small stature. Maybe he had a need to compensate for it. I’d never met anyone like him. His dogs stood by, doing as good a job trying to intimidate as did Lord Faetor.

  The table lay spread with golden plates and bowls, filled with cheeses and exotic fruits. More than we could possibly eat. Another of Faetor’s attempts to show superiority. The aromas made my mouth water. I hadn’t realized how hungry I’d become.

  A young serving girl entered with a large tray of sliced meat on a bed of potatoes. Although I expected the boar’s head to be on the platter, the presentation was still splendid. Apple wedges lay in an arrangement around half of the tray.

  The girl, with hesitant steps, approached Faetor first with the meat. I wondered at that, since protocol would have dictated she offer Ansel the first serving. Faetor knew the rank of his guest and should have informed his staff.

  Lord Faetor caught the server’s eye and made a facial gesture. She tipped her head slightly in a nod. What’s going on here? My senses heightened as I tried to discern the silent conversation.

  Without being obvious, I paid close attention to the girl. She served Faetor several slices of meat and potatoes from one side of the platter, then moved to serve Ansel. She offered portions from the side of the plate garnished with the apples. The same with the Healer and Eben. When she came to me, again she chose from the apple side. I had an opportunity to look more closely at the tray — the separation of the two portions of meat. The girl’s trembling hand caught my eye. As soon as she served me, she rushed out of the room with the platter.

  Realization hit me like a Valaira. Without waiting for Ansel or the Lord to begin the meal, I reached in front of me and knocked my goblet of wine over onto Ansel’s plate. The dark wine splashed onto his light blue tunic. A horrible thought of him bleeding flashed through my mind as the blood-red vintage spread down his front. Ansel jumped to his feet as the wine cascaded off the table. He shot me a puzzled look.

  “I’m so sorry, Lord Ansel. You know how clumsy I am. I can’t believe I just ruined your meal. Here, let me help you.”

  I leaned over the table and grabbed Ansel’s plate. “You certainly can’t eat this, now. The kitchen staff can bring you another.” I gave Eben and the Healer a look that I was certain they understood. Don’t touch your food. They were already fully vigilant.

  “Lord Faetor, I think your dogs would enjoy my ineptitude. Maybe they’ll even stop growling at me. Here boys.” I bent over and put Ansel’s plate on the floor for them.

  The dogs padded excitedly toward me.

  “Stop! Gor, Set, come,” Faetor shouted at his dogs. They slunk back to his side with eyes still on the meat.

  I feigned a puzzled look.

  “They don’t eat scraps off the table,” he said.

  “I saw you giving them portions from your plate. What’s wrong with this meat? It was served from the same platter. Oh wait, yours came from one end and ours from the other.”

  “Guards!” Faetor jumped from his seat and ran to hide behind a column.

  Several armed men rushed out from the dark recesses of the room. They came at Eben and me on our side of the table. Others charged the Healer and Ansel. I readied my glaive, the riders drew their swords. Gor and Set snarled and bounded toward the fray. They inadvertently helped our cause as they jumped and snapped at anyone in their reach, including the guards that tried to get to us. Eben and I made quick work of the men on our side. I jumped on the table before the dogs reached me. The last guard went down under Ansel’s sword. I ran the length of the table, maneuvering around the bowls and utensils, and jumped off the end. We sprinted out of the dining hall, Faetor still screaming orders. In his panic, he’d switched to his native tongue.

  The four of us bolted down the hallway toward the entry. The Healer and Eben stayed near Ansel. I brought up the rear. Gor and Set were gaining on me. I halted and wheeled around. One leaped at me. A swipe of my blade and he dropped.

  The fat lord labored down the corridor, after his dogs. He released a wail when he saw his pet go down. The second dog stopped when he reached his companion lying in a pool of blood. Faetor grabbed a spear that hung on the wall. He screamed at the remaining dog. I couldn’t understand if he was telling him to attack or fall back. Meanwhile, Faetor trudged up the hallway as fast as his portly body could move. I wondered what he planned to do with the spear. He obviously had no idea of how to wield it. I had the inclination to wait for him just to find out.

  I heard a clash of metal in the direction the other three had run. They’d already turned a corner. I couldn’t see who’d engaged them.

  “Eshshah.” I called on her strength.

  “I’m with you, Amáne.”

  I felt Eshshah’s strength fill me. Wedging myself between one of the large warrior sculptures and the wall, I braced myself and shoved it over. It crashed to the ground, blocking Faetor’s path. Marble dust rose; pieces exploded off the fallen figure. Faetor was too fat to climb over, or go around it.

  “Amáne?” Ansel called, after the crash.

  “I’m fine.”

  I rushed around the corner to join my companions fighting in the entryway. My help wasn’t necessary. They’d dispatched several of the guards and the rest ran away screaming in terror. I smiled at the reason for their sudden retreat. Eshshah stood outside the doorway. Her large head lowered as she peered in. A deep rumble echoed from her throat.

  “Thank you Eshshah,” I said.

  Ansel hastened toward me with concern. He touched my cheek. His finger came away bloody.

  I wiped my face with the back of my hand. “It’s just a scratch from the marble shards. Eshshah helped me knock over a statue.”

  “That would explain why you look like a ghost,” said Eben.

  I looked down to see the marble dust that covered my clothes and skin.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Ansel said. “We’ll mark this overweight lord as one of Galtero’s own.”

  Ansel and I stood close in the Healer’s courtyard, preparing to say goodbye once again. He’d spent a couple days with us at the end of our trip. Our final meeting with the Lord Mayor of Dorsal went well. As
I thought all along, Dorsal would give its full support to Ansel.

  Now that he had openly initiated his campaign, Ansel would be occupied all over the kingdom. He had to go back to Trivingar to settle his silk business and manor house. Then, he planned to spend time at each of the military encampments. He’d be inspecting the troops and overseeing drills, filling his position as leader and future king. I would resume my punishment. Grounded, until the Council, the Healer or Ansel deemed it necessary for me to take to the saddle.

  “It’s getting more and more difficult to leave you,” Ansel said “The more I’m around you, the more I want to stay.”

  “Promise me you’ll be careful, Ansel. I wish there were communication discs in those camps. It’s going to be awful not knowing where you are or if you’re safe.”

  He tilted his head and eyed me sideways. “I know the feeling.”

  I winced. How many times had I put him through the same agony?

  “You have to promise me you’ll be careful, too,” Ansel said.

  “What, so I won’t slip while mucking out the stalls? Or in case I prick my finger when picking rose hips? Or maybe one of my students will scratch me with a waster. I’m grounded, remember?”

  Ansel shook his head and smiled. “Don’t be so forlorn. You and Eshshah will be needed more, now. You’ll be flying errands and transporting dragon riders and messages to the extent you’ll wish to be grounded.”

  “I’d never wish that.” I brightened at the prospect Eshshah’s and my punishment would be set aside. Would that it had been for a reason other than war. But that reality couldn’t be changed.

  Ansel slipped his hand behind my neck. His fingers tangled in my hair as he pulled my face to his. I inhaled his spicy dragon scent as we kissed.

  Too soon, we parted, saluted and locked eyes once more. He turned and mounted. Sovann and Eshshah offered their last affections to each other. Sovann gathered himself and leaped into the air. The wind from his great wings blew my hair and my clothes as I watched them take to the air.

  True to Ansel’s prediction, Eshshah and I flew errands. We delivered supplies, including Dorjan’s lightning balls; maps; medicines; orders. We made several trips, but not one of the locations were we fortunate enough to find Ansel.

  Occasionally, we received word from him when he was near enough to an outpost to contact us. I breathed in relief each time I spoke with him, no matter how brief the conversation. At times he looked so tired, my heart broke.

  One afternoon, the Healer called me in from practice. “We need you and Eshshah to go to Anbon, the mountain refugee camp. Bern is there now and has some critical information that has fallen into our hands. You will pick it up and deliver it to an encampment in central Teravinea. Expect to be gone for a few days. Bern mentioned they may need you to run some messages once you get to the camp. If you get close to an outlook, please contact me.”

  “Anbon? Of course, Healer. We’ll leave straight away.”

  I hesitated. My face twisted in a question I was afraid to ask.

  The Healer read my concern. “No, Darqin never showed up at Anbon.”

  I nodded, relieved I didn’t have to see him, yet troubled about his disappearance and his intentions.

  After a two-and-a-half hour flight, Eshshah spiraled down into the mountain camp. The children gathered on the edge of a field where she would land, excited to see Eshshah once again. As soon as I slipped out of the saddle, I signaled to the mothers it was safe to let the little ones approach. The group raced to her and saluted her in their various childish ways. It was a refreshing sight.

  Rushing directly to the cave Bern had set up as his headquarters, I literally ran into a man who’d just turned the corner. He reached out to steady me.

  “Father! What are you doing here?” I wrapped my arms around him. He embraced me tightly.

  “I was just coming out to greet you. I had a delivery for Bern — the information you came for.”

  He searched my face. “Amáne, I can’t look at you without seeing your mother.” A sadness crept into his eyes. It quickly faded as he hugged me once more and said, “Congratulations on your betrothal. Lord Ansel is a lucky man.”

  “Thank you, Father. How did you know?”

  “Lord Ansel asked me for permission to marry my daughter, of course.”

  “That sounds like Ansel ... Lord Ansel. Thank you for giving him permission,” I said with a smile.

  “I wish your mother could be here for you.”

  “Father, there’s so much I need to ask you, but we have no time. I’m to pick up the satchel and leave immediately.”

  He turned and escorted me into the cavern.

  “I know, my sweet. I have a lot to tell you. I’ve been keeping a journal for you. Things I want you to know.”

  “I would love to read your journal, but I want to hear it from you as well.”

  “Yes, of course, my love, but just in case, I’m writing it down at every chance I have.”

  A twinge of fear rippled through me. “What do you mean, ‘just in case’? Father, are you in danger?”

  “It seems Galtero’s chief advisor has been taking counsel from a younger man. Whatever he is putting into the advisor’s ear has him eyeing me with a bit of suspicion.”

  I gasped. “Then leave the castle. Meet me in Dorsal. Please.”

  “No need for you to be concerned. There’s still more I need to do.”

  “Are you involved with getting the elite soldiers inside the castle walls?”

  “Yes. It’s a brilliant plan. Galtero’s extravagant lifestyle will be his undoing. He has a penchant for fine silks and rich fare. Lobster is his latest passion. Serislan is known for both lobster and silk. King Tynan of Serislan has sent some of his finest soldiers trained in explosives. They are also well-trained in the merchant trade. As long as they continue to satisfy his greed, Galtero welcomes them under his roof. His enemy is gathering right under his nose. The fool.”

  Duer met my eyes. “If ... I mean, when I accomplish my goal, I promise I’ll head straight for Dorsal. I’ll be in contact with Bern. Don’t worry about me. I’m making restitution for my part in helping Galtero attain the throne. Our cause needs me for just a bit longer.”

  “You’ve more than made up for that mistake, Father. I need you, now.”

  Taking a deep breath, he said in a hoarse voice, “Stay safe, my daughter. Stay strong.” He kissed my forehead and hurried out. I noted the pain in his eyes. His bootsteps echoed as he strode away.

  Wiping my tears with the back of my gloves, I faced Bern. We saluted each other.

  “Amáne, my good wishes for you and Lord Ansel.” He gave me a fatherly hug.

  “I really must have been the last to know,” I said, attempting a smile. “Thank you, Bern.”

  He handed me a satchel and gave me directions to the encampment where it was to be delivered. Before I turned to leave, Bern put his hand on my shoulder.

  “It’ll be all right, Amáne. Your father’s a brave man, and too smart to get caught.”

  I nodded, but couldn’t say anything for fear I would start sobbing.

  Once Eshshah and I took flight, I let my tears flow. Eshshah hummed to comfort me.

  We flew for less than an hour, following the directions Bern gave us.

  As we approached the encampment, Eshshah perked up. “Sovann.”

  “What?”

  “Sovann and Lord Ansel are here.”

  My heartbeat quickened; my breathing accelerated.

  Eshshah picked up her pace. The military camp spread out below us. Countless tents of various shapes covered the top of a hill. They were set up in concentric circles around a large tent. Several pennants waved above the central pavilion, a large banner stood before it. A golden dragon on a field of deep purple — the royal banner of the Drekinn, the Dragon Kings of Teravinea.

  Sovann met up with us in the air as we approached. He and Eshshah flew high, then soared as they spiraled their descent. Sovann gl
ided close below us. Eshshah could have reached down with her forelegs and touched him if she chose. Sovann turned his head up toward Eshshah, who bent her face to his. Mid-flight they touched noses.

  We landed in an open clearing. I had to keep in mind I was on a delivery mission and must remain professional. There would be no demonstrative encounter with my betrothed.

  I cleared emotion from my face and informed the guard at the entrance to the command tent I had a delivery for Lord Ansel. The man evidently mistook me for a messenger boy. He held out his hand for the package.

  I patted the satchel at my hip and said, “I’m to deliver it personally. Please tell someone in charge Rider Amáne is here.”

  The young soldier turned red. “I’m sorry sir ... I mean ma’am ... er Rider Amáne. I didn’t recognize you, I mean I never met you, but I — ” He gave up, offered a sharp salute and stepped aside.

  “Thank you,” I said. He saluted again.

  The inside of the pavilion seemed even larger than it looked from the outside. Men leaned over maps spread on the tables that lined the walls. My eyes scanned the area. There was no one there I recognized. Then I spotted Ansel at the far end, his back to me. I took only a few steps inside and stopped, unwilling to interrupt. Struggling, I gained control of my racing heart. Someone nudged Ansel and motioned in my direction.

  Frustration showed briefly on his face until he saw me. Our eyes met. His eyes softened as he moved toward me. I was taken aback by how tired he looked. An angry gash slashed across his cheek. I pressed my lips together to keep my groan from resonating. My hand started to reach for his face to heal his injury. But this was not the time or the place. I faced my commander, pulled myself to my full height and saluted him. He saluted in return.

  “What brings you here, rider?” A note of concern sounded in his voice. “Is there bad news?”

  “No, my Lord. I hope it’s good news. The Healer sent me to Anbon. Bern gained possession of some intelligence that’s critical to our cause.” I reached in my satchel and handed Ansel the folded parchment. His hand brushed my skin as he took it. A shiver ran through me. I lowered my eyes before I lost control.