The Betrayal
Page 33
She gave a slight laugh. “It would make little difference for my part. I will care to keep no other company for this year, but that need not affect you.” Her hand went to her belly where his seed had so lately taken hold.
He looked into her eyes, trying to read her wishes. He sensed that this was a gift he could give her, one that would mean a great deal to her. He solemnly kissed both her hands.
“I would be honored to bond with you for a year and a day.” Or forever, he thought a bit wildly.
Her shy smile was his reward. “Truly?”
“Truly.”
He reclaimed the teacup and wrapped her hands around the tall, slim vessel, covering them with his own. The tea's warmth seeped through the pottery, radiating between their fingers.
“Lady Jhinani, I pledge myself to you alone for this day and for a year of tomorrows.”
He drew the cup to his lips and sipped, laughing inwardly at the thought of a cup-bond made with tea. Usually wine was used, and some degree of ceremony employed, but that was the couple's choice. A pledge was a pledge, whether made privately or before witnesses, and the creed required that it be honored.
Jhinani repeated the vow and sipped the tea, and for a moment they stayed so, warmth spreading through their hands as they gazed at each other. Carefully, so as not to spill the hot beverage, Luruthin leaned forward to kiss his lady over the cup. The pledge sealed, his patience with the tea was ended and he took it away from her, putting tea, tray, and all on a table out of the way before gathering her into his arms.
“You must not stay.”
“I know.”
He kissed her, sliding his arms inside her silken garment, clasping her warm flesh to him and trying to put a season's worth of passion into the embrace. Finally he let her go; standing up so that he would not be tempted to reach for her again, he looked about the floor in search of his clothing.
A roar of cheering greeted Turisan and Eliani as they stepped from Hallowhall's doorway into the public circle. He had thought no greater crowd could fit within the circle than those he had seen in recent days, but he had been mistaken. The circle and all the avenues leading up to it were packed tight with folk, and had there not been a double line of the Southfæld Guard holding them back, he and Eliani never would have been able to walk to the center of the circle where the Council awaited them.
Pennants stirred in the early breeze—sage and silver, blue and violet, white and gold—all the colors of the ælven governing clans save one. Clan Sunriding was still absent.
Jharan held up a hand for silence and began wishing Eliani a formal farewell on the Council's behalf. The words did not catch in Turisan's mind. He was more strongly aware of Eliani, her hand gripping him tightly, her khi awash with apprehension and also with desire. Still desire, though they had coupled again and again through the night. He ached for her even now.
Jharan finished his praises and embraced Eliani, as did her father. The Council all clasped hands with her in turn, then Turisan accompanied her to her horse. Laying his hands on her shoulders, he kissed her. The crowd cheered wildly, and Eliani glanced up at him, eyes dancing with wicked mirth.
Shall we give them a greater thrill?
He chuckled. Best not. It would shatter my father's dignity.
Hm.
She hefted herself into the saddle with ease. Her face resumed the sternness he had seen in Alpinon when they had discovered kobalen in the South Wood. She was girding herself for the journey, arming herself against loneliness with her old protective shell, though her gaze when she looked upon him was lit with love. He smiled up at her, hiding his heartache.
Speak to me often as you ride. If we are limited by distance, we must know as soon as possible.
Her green eyes flashed fire. I will speak to you from the edge of the world.
He stepped back, giving her room to turn the horse and join her cousin, who was waiting a little distance away. Turisan glanced at Luruthin, thinking his position pitiable, but the Stonereach appeared calm and even welcomed Eliani with a smile that seemed perfectly easy as her mount came up beside his. Rather a change from the previous day, but Turisan had no time to ponder it. Eliani was leaving.
Led by Vanorin, who carried a lance pennanted with sage and silver, the small cavalcade started forward. A horn sounded as they left the circle, and a slow roar began among the onlookers—a cheer of sorts, but with a mournful note that swelled and echoed from the surrounding mountains.
Stay with me. Eliani did not look back, but her voice pleaded.
I am here.
He watched her pass down Glenhallow's main avenue toward the city gates, followed by the twenty guardians of her escort. The crowd that parted to let them pass closed behind them and shuffled along in their wake, calling out blessings and good wishes.
Turisan remained standing in the circle until he no longer could see Eliani, though he knew precisely where she was. He knew the moment she passed the city's inner gate, then the outer, then when she crossed the bridge on the road to the Silverwash. He stood gazing eastward, the morning light harsh in his unseeing eyes, as she met the river road and turned north. He knew when the mounted party picked up the trot, then let their horses stretch into a lope.
“Lord Turisan?”
Startled, Turisan turned his head and saw Lady Heléri beside him. She was veiled against the sun, but through the dark violet he saw her smile.
“Such a bright morning. I fear I am unused to this much daylight. Will you escort me back to the palace?”
He subdued a stab of impatience. She was right, of course. Why should he stand here all morning, uselessly watching an empty road?
The crowd was dispersing, he realized. Some few remained in and about the circle, talking and glancing at him with wondering eyes.
Turisan bowed to Heléri and was surprised to find it difficult to straighten himself, as though moving had disturbed the heartache he hoped to keep at bay and it now threatened to overwhelm him. With an effort he controlled himself and offered her his arm, then walked with her toward Hallowhall. He saw his father ahead of them, talking with Felisan and Ehranan as they returned to the palace.
We have passed out of sight of the city.
Turisan swallowed. Spirits guard you, my love. Tell me when you reach Skyruach.
Will you be resting?
I believe the Council is reconvening, and I had best be present.
He paused and with a rueful smile added another thought. Your eldermother is urging me not to behave like an idiot.
Her laughter glittered in his mind, falling as rain on the desert and instantly lifting his mood. Heed her, love. She is always right.
The Betrayal is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Del Rey Books Mass Market Original
Copyright © 2009 by Patricia G. Nagle
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Del Rey Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
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eISBN: 978-0-345-51274-1
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