Elthrinn knew deep, heart-stopping, knee-weakening fear. "You have news of my brother?"
Erkas laughed, and Elthrinn knew that, in that moment, she hated him more than she'd ever hated anyone. "Oh. no. I haven't heard anything about him for years and years."
Surely someone would have heard something about Jorrell in all the time he'd now been absent from Felthiss. Elthrinn's mind kept fixing on the only possibility that made sense, that her brother was dead, and that she was alone in the world. She was already alone, but knowing that the last of her blood kin was no longer breathing brought a fresh wave of misery.
"You came solely to report on my well being?" Her voice might be out of practice, but apparently she hadn't lost the art of sarcasm.
"And to bring you glad tidings, dear cousin."
Elthrinn didn't know what news Erkas could possibly have to communicate that would warrant him travelling so far from the city to tell her in person. She fell back into the habit of silence, without meaning to, and remained quiet, waiting for Erkas to tell her his motivations for visiting. If he had no news of Serwren or Jorrell, then it was unlikely he had any news that she would want to hear.
"You're not interested? Very well, I shall tell you anyway." Erkas sighed. "But it spoils the telling if you're not interested. The first piece of news is that I've been elected to the position of First Father."
Elthrinn couldn't have said if she had ever thought about Erkas' political ambitions, because she hadn't ever thought about Erkas much at all, but such a happening did not surprise her. "When?"
"Almost a moon ago."
Belatedly it hit Elthrinn that for Erkas, or for anyone, to be elected as First Father, that something must have happened to Dimacius. It was curious, or perhaps it wasn't, that Erkas should mention the benefit to himself first rather than the circumstances surrounding it.
"But your father? Is your father well?"
Erkas made an exaggerated face of woe. "Sadly not. He's dead, unfortunately. It's the way of things, I suppose. The stress of running the country simply became too much for his aged heart to bear. "
The callous way in which Erkas spoke of his father's passing unnerved and sickened Elthrinn. "I'm sorry to hear that. Dimacius was a good man."
"Yes, he was, wasn't he." Erkas seemed to be distracted by an errant thought. He was staring at a spot above Elthrinn's left shoulder, a spot that Elthrinn knew to be nothing more than blank stone wall.
"You said that was the first piece of news?" Elthrinn said to break Erkas' reverie.
"Ah yes, so I did. The second is that you're to be married."
Elthrinn was stunned. She stumbled and wavered. Unable to take the time to look for a chair, she sank to her knees on the stone floor. Erkas had to be poking fun, he had to be lying, this had to be some sort of joke. She was beyond his reach, she was old enough to be considered an adult, mistress of her own life. She'd come to the temple, given three years of her life over to it, been prepared to give her whole life over to it to avoid this. Yet now she was trapped in the temple with no friends around her, no one strong enough to fight this battle for her, no one superior enough to face Erkas down. Elthrinn had nowhere to run to, nowhere to escape to, and no means of contacting anyone that might be able to send her aid.
Erkas walked over and knelt in front of her. Elthrinn tried to back away, but her legs were tangled in her robes. She stopped moving, because she was in danger of falling onto her backside on the hard flags, and she did not want to be so vulnerable, or so foolish, in front of Erkas.
"Cousin, dear cousin. Surely this can't be so much of a shock. Haven't you ever thought about marriage?"
"No." Elthrinn answered honestly. She hadn't; she had supposed she would be spending her entire life in servitude to a goddess that she cared nothing for. This was precisely the situation that she had hoped to avoid by relinquishing her existence.
"Really? It's such a waste for a pretty young woman like yourself to give herself over to piety."
As Erkas spoke he reached out and stroked a fingertip over Elthrinn's cheek. She tried not to show weakness, tried not shrink back into the cowl of her robes, but she felt violated by that light caress.
"The goddess cares not for beauty," she whispered.
"I can tell that by the look of the crone outside with her ear to the door," Erkas murmured conspiratorially, but Elthrinn refused to take any part in mocking Belieth.
"Has the goddess stolen your humour?"
"Who am I to wed?" Elthrinn was recovering herself. She wasn't interested in conversation, only in details.
"Prince Gorren of Dorvek."
Elthrinn was beyond horrified. Dorvek was farther away from Felthiss than she could imagine. One had to cross the Heranuc range and ride through Dassrin to get to Dorvek, and its residents were not entirely human.
"You're literally throwing me to the wolves."
"They're not so very bad. One shouldn't believe all those dirty rumours one hears."
A thought that had flitted across her mind before returned, bringing with it a weak ray of hope. "You can't do this. I'm too old for you to simply command like this. I'm old enough to be independent if I choose. I'm no longer under Dimacius wardship. I haven't been for some time."
"Oh, I know." Erkas was unbearably smug.
"Then what makes you think you can come here to command me to marry an animal? Even as First Father you do not wield such authority."
When Erkas smiled, it was a smile of pure evil. There was no humour in his eyes. Those clear blue orbs were as dead as glass. Elthrinn's stomach turned.
"You're wrong, dear cousin. Because I am First Father, and the ultimate power in Felthiss, I have the power to throw you in jail for the rest of your life if you don't cooperate. Oh, you might argue that there's little difference between the palace dungeon and this temple, but I can arrange for it to be much, much worse."
Elthrinn could not find words to dispute the psychotic arrogance being laid before her.
"And before you think of nobly declaring that you'd rather endure such a fate than marry a dog, before you plot how you'd escape, or end your life in captivity before you could experience the finest talents of my jailers, let me assure you, cousin, you would not be the only one enjoying their attentions."
Elthrinn's incredulity must have shown on her face. Erkas laughed, long and loud, as if he were enjoying an immensely funny joke.
"Dearest cousin, if you don't agree to travel willingly to Dorvek, I'll throw every last priestess in this holy hell into my dungeons right along with you. You will be forced to watch your sisters be tortured. It's truly fascinating to see how long a body can hold out, but I doubt these angels of Doohr will last long, they're not used to such... excitement. I might request that Serwren and her bastard son spend some time with you as well."
Erkas wasn't lying. Elthrinn knew with absolute certainty that he was not lying. We would indeed desecrate the temple, perform unspeakable horrors on all the residents, he would brutalise his own sister and young nephew, just to get his way. Erkas' eyes sparkled with what Elthrinn could only guess was a touch of madness.
During the time that she'd lived in Senthirr, Elthrinn had occasionally heard whispers of the evil that Erkas was capable of. The villagers had gossiped about the brat without a throne who thought he was a prince. Once, and only once, Elthrinn had chanced upon Aileth and Mara talking about Erkas and a deed so awful that Elthrinn had been sure she had imagined the whole thing. She had tiptoed away without the two maids being aware she had ever been nearby. At the time, her young mind hadn't been able to make sense of their whispers, but she understood them all too well now.
Erkas would carry out his threats, Elthrinn did not doubt that at all.
"When?"
Erkas smiled a smile that showed nearly all his teeth. "There, that's more the attitude I expected. Straight away, of course. I have two of my most trusted guards and one of my strongest and swiftest horses waiting for you at the shores of the
lake."
Erkas had never intended to leave the temple without her.
"I have no choice," Elthrinn said in a deadened voice.
Erkas was still grinning. "No, not unless you want to inflict needless suffering on every person whose life has ever touched yours, the ones who are still alive, that is."
Elthrinn's shoulders sagged in defeat. "Very well."
Erkas stood and held his hand out to Elthrinn. She would rather have chewed her own fingers off than accept his aid, but she'd have to stay kneeling on the floor at his feet if she didn't. Elthrinn gave Erkas her fingers, he wrapped his hand around hers and pulled her up.
"I'm sure you'll be very happy in Dorvek. I hear they're really quite civilised. And I could have been much less generous, Gorren is not some grey-haired ogre."
"I know nothing about him, I know little about those people."
"Yes, yes. of course, Serwren removed you prematurely from your studies to spirit you away." Erkas shook his head as if in disappointment at his sister's lack of foresight. "Gorren is a young buck of twenty-nine, the same age as your brother and I. There are some rumours of dissolution and drinking," Erkas waved his fingers dismissively again, "but nothing that a firm wife can't rectify, I'm sure."
She was being married off to a drunk who was ten years her senior.
A thought struck Elthrinn. She felt brave enough to voice it, after all, Erkas had revealed the worst he could do to her, and she had agreed to comply with his plans, so she didn't think she was in danger of landing in the palace jail. She was useful to him now. "Why me? Why Dorvek?"
"I have my reasons. You needn't worry about them. Knowing why won't change your future."
"I'm curious. You won't indulge me... cousin?"
Erkas gave a little bow at her use of the familial address. "Since you asked so nicely, I'll tell you that it is a political alliance. I want Dorvek to be allied with Felthiss. You're doing a very noble thing, Elthrinn. Thanks to you, our two countries will be joined. Felthiss will be stronger, because of you."
"But you won't tell me why you want the alliance."
"No, I won't." Erkas shook his head as he went to the door to open it and call for Belieth. As he had guessed, the head priestess was not very far from the door.
Belieth came into the room, her expression full of concern for Elthrinn. Elthrinn arranged her own features into a blank mask. It would do no good to beat her chest with sorrow, to invite anxiety for herself and condemnation for Erkas. She had agreed to Erkas' demands, and there would be no recanting her support. She would bear the burden that Erkas had laid onto her rather than endanger innocent lives.
Elthrinn was still curious about the wider scope of Erkas' scheming, she still wondered why he wanted to be so closely allied with Dorvek, but for herself, personally, it mattered little.
Erkas explained the situation to Belieth. The old woman did not reply with words, but at the news that Elthrinn was to leave the temple, shock, then concern, then something that might have been about to be anger flowed across her face. Erkas left the room, to wait for Elthrinn at the doors to the temple. The temple only had one entrance, and it was surrounded by the shallow lake. She could not escape without being seen, but Elthrinn did not even begin to entertain such thoughts. If she tried to sneak away, Erkas would take vengeance on the innocents he had already threatened.
Belieth escorted Elthrinn back to her room. Elthrinn knew that the constant pressure of the woman's hand on her arms was meant as a gesture of support and reassurance. When they reached their destination, Belieth patted Elthrinn's arm, then turned and disappeared down the corridor.
Elthrinn entered her cell and looked around the sparsely furnished space in bewilderment. She was supposed to be packing her belongings for the journey, but she had no belongings. She picked up her hairbrush; there were spare leather thongs tied around the handle. She had no clothes other than her robes. She did not think that they would be particularly practical for the journey, or necessary when she reached her destination. They were fine for a temple in the warm climate of Felthiss, they would be all but useless in the cold northern territory of Dorvek.
Elthrinn took the bag containing the essentials that she used for washing, but there was nothing else in the room, save the bedding, for her to take. She owned no jewellery, save for the two silver rings irrevocably fastened around her neck. She owned no books, or other items with which to pass her leisure time, for a priestess of Doohr did not have leisure time.
Elthrinn turned at the knock on the door that still stood ajar. Belieth had returned. She waited until Elthrinn had seen her before she entered the room. She was carrying a bundle of leather and cloth. Belieth deposited the bundle on Elthrinn's narrow bed, reached up to her toes to kiss Elthrinn on the cheek, and then left, without a word.
When Elthrinn investigated the gift, she found a leather rucksack and clothes for travelling in: leather trews, a cotton shirt, and a woollen cloak. Elthrinn had no idea where the items had come from, or why they were in the temple at all, but she was not going to refuse them. She began to change, leaving her robes neatly folded on her pillow, and prepared to meet Erkas, to travel to her fate.
Chapter Six
Gorren stood with his friends, and watched as Wodell completed the tattoo on the last of the new wolves. The young girl, who didn't look mature enough to yet be in her teens, bore the pain in stoic silence. All of the other new wolves were visibly older than this girl, and yet some of the others, even some of the boys, had flinched and hissed as Wodell had worked their skin. His instruments were carved from the antlers of deer that he had brought down himself.
Wodell, an artist gifted with a talent that could only have come from the Grey Wolf himself, smiled with satisfaction as he finished his task, and the assembled crowd applauded the girl's bravery. Gorren couldn't have guessed the number of times that Wodell had branded this image into the skin of the residents of Cranak, but he would not have been surprised if Wodell would have been able to tell him the exact figure. Gorren knew Wodell took great pride in being the artist responsible for inking the newest members of their pack, and he never seemed to bore of the task. All the wolves that received their first tattoo courtesy of Wodell's skill were treated with a fatherly affability thereafter. All of Gorren's tattoos had been made by Wodell; he would let no other artists mark his skin.
"Come." Ornef clapped his hand on Gorren's shoulder as the wave of clapping began to dissolve into chatter. "If we wait too long we won't find a seat."
Gorren had been considering speaking to Wodell about some new work, but the heavyset man was already obscured by a group of well-wishers and others with the same idea. Gorren wrapped his arm around Ornef's shoulders to return the gesture. "Aye, we can't expect your delicate little stems to hold you up all night now, can we?"
Ornef's blue eyes darkened before he shrugged and grinned. "I hope by the end of the night that they won't be holding me up at all."
The group of friends had begun walking towards the tavern that they frequented most often. Jorm, who was almost the twin of Gorren, but who had green eyes instead of brown, flung back over his shoulder, "You should follow Gorren's example and moderate yourself, my friend. If you keep drinking like you are, your cock's going to be as lively as a dead salmon."
Gorren released his hold on Ornef as his friend aimed a mock punch at Jorm, who half turned and returned a joking retaliation.
"Behave." Delban pushed both of them in their shoulders at the same time. "One of these days Borr will bar us for acting like pups."
"He'd never do that," Gorren laughed. "He's been getting rich on our coin for years. He can't afford not to serve us."
"He might bar you." Jorm said pointedly. "He's not seen so much of your coin for almost a year now. You've found a better use for your money?"
Gorren shook his head. He had no excuse to offer, only that he'd found that he preferred to keep a clear head. There did not seem to be such an urgent need to cloud his senses with a
lcohol now that he was out of the shadows of Cranak Hall. He still had vices, but mead was no longer the main one.
"Not at all, but someone has to be sober enough to drag your drunken arse back to the barracks."
The friends were laughing as they entered the tavern. They'd been swift enough to beat the majority of the crowd, but the low-ceilinged room was still more full than usual. It was the moon of Kwek, and soon every tavern would be full to bursting as Cranak celebrated the welcome of twenty new wolves into their pack.
They found a table and a barmaid made her way over to them, her hands already laden with a pitcher and four mugs. Borr must have seen them arrive. Gorren cast an appraising eye over the woman's figure. She was curvy, wide in the hips and large-breasted, with a small waist, the shape he preferred, but when his evaluation reached her face, he realised he'd bedded her before. She - Gorren could not remember her name - was looking at him saucily, but she would not be getting a repeat performance. The act itself had been satisfactory, but he'd barely pulled out before she'd started to murmur about meeting his parents. He wasn't a social ladder to be climbed, and no matter how persuasive her form, he would not be taking advantage of her willingness again.
Searching the Darkness (Erythleh Chronicles Book 2) Page 5