By Moonrise

by Jackie Dana

  Instantly she became self-conscious. Arric’s old flame was a stunning woman and light on her feet, whereas she felt about as graceful as a sack of potatoes.

  Oblivious to her thoughts, Arric grasped her hands tightly in preparation to dance, and suddenly she couldn’t look him in the eye. As they made their introductory steps, he leaned close. Did he sense her emotions, a peculiar combination of awkwardness and jealousy that weighed on her? What was he thinking? She decided that the best idea was to not to make a fool of herself, so she kept her attention on his feet and tried to mimic his moves. She feared she’d never master these steps, and at least once she almost tripped him, though it didn’t seem like he cared.

  When the dance finally ended, she retreated back to the table for some wine and a breather, while Arric vanished back into the crowd to find a new partner. Once again she glanced to Rynar, who was now engaged in a heated argument with a few of the Bhagali standing across from him, while the Vosira leaned back and listened with amusement. The Aldrish had not acknowledged her since she had entered the hall, and she wondered if he was still angry with her. While she didn’t care what Rynar thought of her personally, she didn’t want to be on the bad side of someone with so much influence, as that could come back to haunt her later.

  As she watched Rynar, the Vosira caught her eye, and with two fingers he waved her to his table. Here it comes, she thought to herself. At that moment she wished her half-empty goblet held havar rather than wine. After taking a healthy drink of it, she stood up carefully and worked her way over to him.

  “You gave poor Rynar here quite a fright when you disappeared from Loraden the other day,” Vosira Bedoric said as a way of welcoming her, and waved for her to take a seat across from him.

  She noted that Rynar said nothing, but scowled in response, looking much like a wet cat, totally unhappy with the situation but not wanting anyone to know it. Meanwhile, she just smiled politely, and nodded in gratitude as a boy brought her another goblet filled with wine.

  “He spent a full day in the city looking for you,” the Vosira continued gleefully, clearly aware of the effect his comments had on his advisor, “and by the time he gave up, I think he had enlisted the assistance of a half-dozen Senvosra. Bhara,” he added, leaning close so that the others wouldn’t hear, “I haven’t seen my Aldrish so concerned about anyone, least of all a woman, in all the years we have known each other.”

  The Vosira’s words made her do a double-take. After all, Rynar himself had arranged for her to be transported by boat to a village upstream. While it was true she hadn’t made it to his intended destination, he also knew full well that she hadn’t gone missing. The only conclusion she could draw from this was that he had lied to the Vosira—but had he done so for her sake, or his? She tried to catch Rynar’s eye, but he had turned away, as if intentionally trying to avoid being dragged into the conversation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect anyone would be worried,” she replied generously. “I figured, as a stranger here, no one really paid much attention to what I did.”

  “Nay, such things would never be true, not for such a lovely lady as yourself,” Bedoric said, his words like velvet, and he reached out to lightly stroke her chin with his fingertip. He wasn’t much to look at, but in that moment she found herself drawn into his charm. “We missed you here, I assure you. So my dear, where did you go? You were gone such a long time, after all.”

  Just as Rynar had warned her, she had been put on the spot—and it was here, out in public. The question was so kindly asked, that she almost hadn’t seen it coming. Scrambling for a story, she said the first thing that came to mind. “I went to visit a friend, that’s all.”

  “Indeed? So you left Loraden on your own accord?” Bedoric leaned forward, intrigued by her tale—or doing a good job of pretending to be. “My poor dear, you should have let us know you intended to travel. Aldrish Rynar was certain something terrible had happened, since you disappeared without a trace just after that fight in the square.”

  So that’s how Rynar had explained her disappearance? It seemed overly dramatic, given his role in the events. Perhaps he hadn’t expected her to return? “I know, it was foolish of me.” She glanced at Rynar, whose attention had suddenly shifted to her, but he said nothing. Instead, his dark eyes watched her carefully, without offering up any hints on how she should proceed. Without his assistance, her only chance of success was to keep rolling with the story, as any hesitation would do her in. “I’m sorry I worried anyone. I really hadn’t expected that to happen.”

  “Aye, so you say.” He clicked his tongue several times. “It is so dangerous out there for a young woman traveling alone. Surely you knew this, and did not truly think you would get far without assistance?”

  She shrugged. Truthfully, she explained, “where I come from, women travel alone all the time. It honestly would not have occurred to me to ask for someone else to join me.”

  He nodded, appearing to understand. “Very well then, my dear.” He smiled, as if he was satisfied, and drained his goblet. Then he tipped his head, and with a friendly grin, asked, “perhaps you would do me one favor?”

  “Of course, Vosira.” Relieved, she readily acquiesced. Was he going to ask her to dance, perhaps?

  He leaned forward. “I was hoping you could clear something up for me. If everything you say is true, and you left alone to visit a friend, then how did you end up with blood all over your lovely gown, and even more, why did you return in the company of my useless brother?”

  So there it was, she realized. It was the million-dollar question. Rynar had warned her, had he not?

  She swallowed, and tried to collect her thoughts as quickly as possible. She had just fallen into a deep pit, and there was no way out of it now. Rynar leaned back in his chair, as if pretending not to be concerned about the conversation. She could tell he was listening intently, but for some reason was unwilling to participate. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Was he hoping she’d dig herself in even deeper? Scrambling now to find a way to spin her tale further, she finally continued. “After my visit with my friend, I was on my way back to Loraden. On my way back to the city, the wheel of the wagon I was riding in came loose, and the driver injured himself in the fall. I helped patch up his cuts, and that’s where the blood came from. And as I was helping him, the Dosedra came up on horseback. He lent a hand to the situation, and then gave me a ride into the city.” She took a moment to seek him out among the dancers, and smiled as she spotted him. “You know, he’s not at all like people say he is,” she added. “He was actually quite kind.”

  “Hmm.” Bedoric tipped his head. “That is a very odd account,” he declared, and finished off his wine. “I wonder, why did the Dosedra say nothing of this himself in the Council today?”

  Rather than concede the point, and surrender the game, however, she shrugged as if it mattered little to her why their stories did not match. “Maybe he was embarrassed. I don’t know. It wasn’t really a big deal.”

  Rynar stood up, and walked around to her side of the table. As he did so, the Vosira just leaned back in his chair and studied her, causing her to squirm in her seat.

  “Your story is preposterous,” Rynar said, casually leaning down to whisper in her ear. “No one, least of all the Vosira, will believe a word of it.”

  She smiled, and nodded, as if responding to something entirely different. To quickly extricate herself from the situation, she used Rynar’s sudden maneuver to her own advantage. “Vosira, I hope that’s all? If so, would you mind too much if I danced with the Aldrish?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at him.

  The Vosira nodded, and in a rapid shift in demeanor, chortled at her comment. “Of course, my lady. There will be plenty of time later to discuss these matters. Dance with the man—someone needs to entertain him, after all!”

  Rynar took her hand led her to the center of the room. “I hadn’t intended to dance with you,” he muttered.

  “What a shame. If you’d like, I’ll g
o sit down again—” she offered, calling his bluff, and took a step towards the Vosira’s table.

  “You shall do nothing of the kind,” he replied, reaching for her other hand. As they stood waiting for the musicians to retune their instruments, he leaned close to whisper, “that was well played, my dear.”

  She bit back a self-congratulating grin.

  “You need to be more careful how you proceed,” Rynar suggested, and then as the dancers all came together in a line, he folded both of her hands in his. “The Vosira is not foolish—and his brother is not the man you think he is,” he added, but then was forced to cut his comments short. Along with the dozen other pairs of dancers, he lifted her hands high over their heads, their arms forming an archway that would become part of the dance as couples passed under. In such a position it was impossible to carry on a covert conversation.

  Curious as to what he meant, she had to wait before she could hear more, for the dance had begun, and her concentration had to be focused on the expected set of movements. Instead of allowing it to worry her, however, she pushed it from her mind as she spun around a petite woman in pale pink who seemed a bit bored with the dance.

  The tune ended, and she noticed that Arric had finally worked his way over to Merel. As she watched, there was the inevitable pause as they gazed at each other, taking in the span of eight years. They then embraced each other tightly.

  “You see, there is no point in pursuing him,” Rynar said.

  “Why would you think I was trying?” she challenged him, and immediately returned her attention back to the music, as if Arric was the last thing on her mind. “Shall we try this one?”

  Again, the dance separated them, but soon it was their turn to promenade through the archway. She leaned close and said, “you know that those stories about him aren’t true.”

  He seemed unshaken. “So he’s convinced you of that, has he? Hmm, I suppose love really is blind.”

  “You’ve got it all wrong. There’s nothing going on between us.”

  “Truly?” He seemed skeptical.

  “Of course there isn’t!” Exasperated, she lost track of her steps, causing the woman behind her to crash into her. With a murmured expletive, as people passed her, she abandoned the dance and retreated to the edge of the dance floor.

  Rynar caught up with her, and instead of being annoyed at the abrupt end to the dance, simply took her hand led her away from the crowd of dancers. “My dear, I know you did not randomly run into him outside of Loraden,” he whispered. “Indeed, if there’s nothing between the two of you, perhaps you can explain why—and how—you were able to locate him from Altopon.”

  She suddenly felt dizzy. How could he know she was there? And what else did he know? Like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar, she could only offer a feeble response. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Oddly enough, he didn’t press the point. “Never mind that now.” At an unoccupied table, he pulled out a bench for her, and then sat beside her. “My dear, you must understand how concerned the Vosira is about his brother’s activities, and how urgent it is that we explain your role to his satisfaction, before things get worse.” He lowered his voice until it was just barely audible over the musicians. “It is my fault for not explaining this sooner, but I had no idea this would happen.” He lifted his eyes and scanned the vicinity, and confident no one was close enough to overhear, continued. “There’s something you must know, right now, before things get any more serious between the two of you. Eight years ago, the Dosedra was so desperate to rule Sarducia that many believe he was involved in his father’s murder, and that he left Sarducia rather than be held accountable.”

  “What? That’s impossible.” Kate’s mind flashed back to the man she had gotten to know over the past week, and then her eyes darted out into the crowd, seeking him out. Seeing him dance with Merel, she shook her head. “You don’t really believe that he’s capable of that, do you?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. However, it matters not what I believe—it’s what the Vosira believes that concerns me, and should concern you as well.”

  “But—”

  He held up his hand. “I cannot tell you who to trust, but I would caution you against allying yourself with the Dosedra.”

  She shook her head. It was all wrong. She desperately wanted to believe that he wasn’t the monster Rynar was portraying now. Hoping to see the lie in his eyes, she lifted hers to his, staring into the dark pupils.

  He didn’t waver, or blink. “Let me ask you this. Did he ever tell you why he went to Bhoren? Or why he chose to do so secretly, and in the company of fhaoli?”

  “You’re crazy,” she argued, in a last-ditch effort to deny the truth. “Wouldn’t that be illegal?”

  Rynar raised an eyebrow. “So you understand the concept of fhaoli, then. Interesting.” He folded his hands in his lap. “My dear, there is no point in denying anything. The Vosira knows where he went, and with whom. Most of all, he knows why.” His expression grew solemn as he continued. “What you need to understand is that the Dosedra is playing a dangerous game, and it is just a matter of time before the Vosira takes action against him.”

  “Now wait a minute. You’re making all these accusations, but you’re being really vague about it all. Whatever he might have done, I don’t see how his trip is anyone’s business.”

  Rynar crossed his arms, and peered down his nose at her. “So he didn’t tell you who he was looking for, then?”

  “He said he went looking for a friend, and that’s all.”

  “Indeed?” This seemed to surprise him. Continuing, he explained, “I fully expected him to try to sway you over to his side, and have you rally to his cause. You see, he went on that extended journey hoping to find his old friend Sarnoc Sofinar, who used to serve on the Council, until he was banished under suspicion of aiding Vosira Parmon’s murder.” He smiled to himself. “The Dosedra had just returned to Loraden, yet he rushed out to find that Sarnoc, just like that,” he said, snapping his fingers for emphasis. “All without any regard for family, duty or honor.”

  “You’re wrong. There wasn’t a Sarnoc there.”

  “Ah, so you finally admit to being there with him.” He smiled, having won the concession from her. “I would expect not. As everyone knows, Sofinar is long dead.” He stood up, and tugged at his tunic to straighten it. “Well, I should return to the Vosira, and try to keep him appeased. Enjoy the rest of the evening, but be on your guard. You know Arric’s true colors now. I trust you will know what to do.”

  Chapter 31

  After Rynar had returned to Vosira Bedoric’s table, a number of men had approached Kate, and she had a steady line of dance partners for the rest of the evening. Even though she suspected the Bhavosa had put them up to it, she still enjoyed the dances, and tried to be as graceful as she could be, given her lack of practice. After a number of dances, Rynar reappeared, leading her through several dances without another word of Loraden politics. Perhaps Bryll had been behind that, too.

  Throughout it all, she tried not to pay attention to Arric, but he made such efforts impossible. As he danced, he often exclaimed loudly about how much he enjoyed a tune, or he called out to people he knew. Several times he pulled Merel into the middle of the room when the musicians performed a tune unknown to the rest of the crowd, effectively leading her in a solo dance. As drunk and rowdy as he was acting tonight, it was unsurprising that his brother and the Aldrish had such poor opinions of him. At any rate, although she encountered him several times on the dance floor, never again did he ask to dance with her, instead focusing his attention on the beautiful woman he might have married many years ago.

  She tried not to feel disappointed by his lack of attention, but it was difficult. Given the exuberance with which he had escorted her here tonight, and the friendship they had built during their travels, she found herself wishing he would spend a little more time with her tonight. Watching him with Merel brought mixed emot
ions. She recognized he bore a heavy burden of guilt from both his extended absence and the duties he had performed as a soldier. It was as if he was pursued by his own personal demons, and he could barely outrun them. Tonight, however, he seemed light and carefree, finding a bit of respite from the burden he carried. Seeing him this way, it was difficult to fight the slow bloom of jealousy that grew from the seed Merel had planted earlier today. No matter what she felt for this man, she knew his affections would always be elsewhere, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

  And what if Rynar was right? What if the Dosedra really was involved in something dangerous, even possibly treasonous? Could he have had a role to play in his father’s death? It seemed so unlikely, but then again, how well did she really know him? As she watched him laughing as he spun Merel past another pair of dancers, she realized that she didn’t know him well at all.

  Tonight it was clear that she was tangled up in a political intrigue, and everyone expected her to take sides. When something as innocuous as a banquet had political ramifications, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to play the game.

  ***

  It was quite late into the night when Arric slid onto the bench across from her. He held his goblet out to a boy with pale skin who had been hovering over the table next to theirs, but when he saw the Dosedra’s gesture, he rushed over to fill it for him. Draining the goblet in a few gulps, Arric sought a refill, and then smiled at Kate. From what she could tell, he had consumed wine at a pace that rivaled that of his brother.

  “Shall I show you back to your quarters, Bhara Kate?” he asked, the question sounding quite formal, as if they were scarcely acquainted.

  “Sure, if you want...” As she stood up, aching from all the dancing, she scanned the stragglers in the room looking for the lavender dress. So that’s why he’s ready to leave, she realized with disappointment. Bhara Merel was gone. It was impossible now not to feel a little snubbed by him.

  He appeared to be unaware of any reluctance on her part. Instead, as she walked around the table, he draped his arm over her shoulders in what felt quite improper for someone of his standing. He weaved considerably as he moved, and Kate, who herself had soaked up quite a bit of wine herself, was no help.