Bolin opened his mouth, struggling to find words, but the Master Healer shook her head, and patted his knee.
"No need."
She moved away, and the procession continued into the main square of Galys Auld. The elders, dressed in the formal deep green and gold robes of their station, stood waiting in a loose semi-circle before the fountain. Maurar's gaze landed on Bolin, as cold as the Reaches, then moved past him, widening first in grief and then in surprise, no doubt when he spotted the Emperor leading the carriage. Bolin dismounted, his heart slamming in his chest, his mouth dry. He didn't dare look at anyone else as he walked forward to stand before Maurar.
The outpouring of sympathy along the road had served to utterly destroy the last bit of Bolin's wall. He blinked back unbidden tears, fighting to keep the shaking of his hands from reaching his voice as he addressed the elder, speaking in Galysian and keeping his voice level through sheer determination alone. "The Greensward's most beloved daughter has returned to her Mother's embrace. She sits now with her forebears in the splendor of the Halls. Know that she went to her rest with great honor in the service of her Emperor."
Maurar's jaw ticked as Bolin presented him with the wrapped banner, then dropped to one knee before him, head bowed.
"Your words are hollow and bring no comfort," the elder said.
Before Bolin could think of a response, Danya Blyth moved in and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Grief often colors our emotions in ways we would not choose," she said, her gaze shifting to Maurar, her words gentle. "Our guests are weary in body and spirit, as are we all. Rest, I think, is in order."
This last she directed at Bolin, extending a hand to draw him to his feet. Maurar looked as though he had more to say but someone came up behind Bolin, drawing the elder's gaze.
Maurar inclined his head, sketching a bow from the shoulders. "Your Majesty, you honor us."
"The Greensward's loss has blanketed the empire in a shroud of sorrow," Dain said, stopping beside Bolin. "Danya Nialyne's sacrifice was a selfless act of great love and bravery."
Maurar visibly struggled to keep his expression neutral. "The details of which shall be shared with us, I presume?"
"At your convenience, Danya," Bolin said. The reality of that event peeled back a fresh layer of dread, and he suddenly wished he had Ciara beside him. Granted, her impulsive, headstrong nature caused Bolin no small amount of frustration. Still, it occurred to him just then how much he missed the quiet strength her presence leant.
"There is much to attend to," Blyth said. "First Rider Thea will see to the quartering of your escort. We have prepared rooms for you, Your Majesty, not far from Danya Bolin's. Once you have rested and freshened up from your journey, we shall share a meal in Danya Nialyne's honor."
"Your graciousness is most welcome," Dain said, lifting Blyth's hand to place a kiss on her knuckles.
Maurar cleared his throat and slid a dark look in Bolin's direction before moving around him to walk with wooden steps toward Nialyne's carriage.
"Had she foreseen the outcome of her choices," Blyth said to Bolin, a sad smile on her face, "Nialyne would have acted no differently. Do not carry the blame for her death in your heart, but rather the joy of her life. Take some rest. We will see to all else."
***
Bolin stood outside the door to Nialyne's rooms, the palm of his hand flat against the carved wood, a hollowness in him he couldn't name. He tried not to think, or even feel. The place inside him, where once Nialyne's presence had dwelled, had become a vast wasteland. Ignoring it, trying to recapture the feeling of her, forcing himself to imagine that if he opened the door she would be waiting there, seemed a futile effort, but he did it anyhow. He wanted to believe his will alone could bring her back. That, when he opened her door, he wouldn't be met by the void he knew awaited him.
It took him a long time to lower his hand to the latch, his fingers wrapping the cool metal, as familiar to his touch as the grip of his sword. It took far less time to drop that hand and back away. He stood for a moment longer, then turned and continued down the corridor to his quarters.
He would have preferred to remain in his rooms for the rest of the evening, but not joining the elders for a meal in Nialyne's honor would have been unpardonable. It took a quiet knock at the door, however, to rouse him from a chair before the cold hearth. He expected a servant, sent with orders to politely inform him of his tardiness, instead he found the Emperor.
"I guessed you might be dragging your feet," Dain said as he entered, then paused as his eyes swept over Bolin. "Are you certain you're up to this? I could make your apologies if you would rather not. No one would fault you."
Bolin shook his head, taking a seat on a nearby bench to pull his boots on. "Maurar most certainly would. He'd take it as an affront, and I've enough issues with him."
"He does seem a bit…stiff."
"We've never seen things quite the same," Bolin said. "They were never pledged, but he and Nialyne were very close. I'm sure I was the cause of more than one disagreement between them, especially in my youth. Though she looked on me as her son, Maurar has only ever seen me as an outsider, and perhaps a rival for Nialyne's affection. He hated my being here, as much as I hated being gone."
"You're not to blame for her death. You know that, right?"
Bolin cocked his head to look up at Dain. "You know, I've just spent over a fortnight trying, but I just can't seem to convince myself of that."
"Tell me, if you were to die in my defense, would I be held to blame?"
Bolin scowled. "That's entirely different."
"Only because you want it to be, my friend." Dain took Bolin by the elbow and pulled him to his feet. "Let us go celebrate a life well-lived. Tomorrow we can give our sorrow to the Goddess."
A sudden, bitter retort rose in Bolin's throat at mention of the Goddess, but he swallowed it. That resentment he wouldn't give voice to. It was far too personal and close to his heart. Instead, he gave a short nod, then followed Dain from his rooms and across the gardens toward the tables set up in the court yard.
On their arrival, a Galysian herald announced them, with all their assorted titles. The Emperor first, of course, then Bolin. Maurar's face pinched when Steward of Galys Auld, and Guardian of the Greensward were tacked onto Bolin's extensive list. Blyth must have supplied those to the herald. Bolin had never claimed any title in the Greensward, even though they were his by right; the first through Nialyne's benevolence, the second due to his position in the Empire.
At their approach, Maurar rose to cede the head of the table to Dain, putting himself several chairs to the Emperor's left, while Bolin took the open seat to the Emperor's right.
Conversation remained polite and muted over the course of the meal. Memories of Nialyne's life were shared among the elders, with Bolin adding very little, and no one pressing him to do so. Maurar sat quietly as the night wore on, watching Bolin, more often than not, contributing little to the conversation, and eating even less. As the servants cleared the last of the plates, and Bolin made ready to give his excuses and retire for the evening, the elder cleared his throat, drawing the attention of those seated around him.
"You were as a son to her, and as such, forever welcome within these borders." The elder studied the contents of his goblet, a smugness to the tight expression on his face as he rolled his gaze back up to Bolin's. "However, by a general consensus of the elders, that will no longer be the case."
Bolin's mouth dropped wordlessly open. He caught Dain's quick, shocked glance before the Emperor drew his shoulders back and allowed his cold gaze to sweep across those seated at the table. It landed on Maurar with all the weight of a hammer. "You do Danya Nialyne's memory a great disservice."
"If any disservice has been done, it is his," Maurar said, with a jerk of his chin in Bolin's direction. "He failed to keep her from harm's way, and by so doing, has proven himself a traitor to the Greensward."
Someone gasped, and Bolin rose
to his feet, his hand dropping to the dagger at his waist.
"Danya Maurar, this is unconscionable," Blyth said, rising from her own chair, face flushed with anger. "Danya Bolin is no traitor to the Greensward, and there has been no consensus of the elders."
"It is no secret where your loyalties lie," Maurar replied. "As you would have undoubtedly not agreed, you were not consulted."
"I would suggest, Danya Maurar, that you take a moment to rethink your words." Dain remained seated, his voice cool, but his eyes blazed like cerulean fire.
Bolin looked around the table at the nine Galysian elders. Outside of Maurar, and Blyth, none would meet his gaze.
"No," he said, keeping his voice low, shock and betrayal warring with outrage. He let his hand fall from the dagger's grip. "If that is truly the wish of the elders, I'll not go against it."
Forcing a bow from the waist, he turned and started away, his fists clenched at his sides. He refused to add to Maurar's desecration of Nialyne's memory.
"You made her weak," Maurar said, practically spitting the words at Bolin's back. "Took from her, and gave nothing in return except death."
Bolin spun, and in three strides would have had Maurar out of his chair by the throat if Dain hadn't intercepted him.
"Bolin, don't."
"You are nothing more than a murderer." Maurar's voice shook, and spittle flecked his lips.
"The pain of your loss has caused you to forget yourself, Elder." Dain turned toward Maurar, but kept a hand against Bolin's chest to keep him in place. The elder paled in the face of the Emperor's anger. "The Greensward does not exist outside the empire, and as such, is under my hand. You would all do well to remember that."
Maurar's expression pinched. He levered himself to his feet, and the hair on Bolin's arm stood on end. The Greensward's wards shivered as the elder drew from the power of the land in what could only be interpreted as a threat against him.
Bolin curled his lips in a feral smile. "Please," he said to Maurar, "give me a reason."
Maurar's eyes flicked to him, hatred darkening his expression. The spell he had started to weave lingered a moment longer, then faded to nothing. The elder tipped his head to Dain, a forced smile replacing the scowl. "You are welcome to stay the night, my Lord."
"We shall remain in Galys Auld until I decide otherwise," Dain said. "Be very careful how you tread, Danya Maurar. Emperors are notoriously possessive. Should I feel the Greensward does not have the best interest of the empire at heart, I may be tempted to leave my detachment here."
The elder's chin came up, his eyes rounding. "You would not dare."
"Dare?" Dain left Bolin to put himself directly in front of Maurar, his power shimmering around him like a cloak. "Tell me, Elder, would you dare to prevent me from doing so?"
Maurar's lips quivered as he struggled against outrage to form words.
"You do not know me, Danya," Dain said, and though he kept his voice soft, it carried across the now silent courtyard with all the strength of his position. "I am, by nature, a quiet man. I lack my sire's temper, for which you should be very grateful at the moment. I do, however, possess his fanatical love of the empire, and his certainty in the supremacy of the Imperial line. If you think to put the Greensward in a position at odds with my desires, you will suffer the consequences. You and whichever elders are fool enough to stand beside you. The power of the Greensward is substantial, however, I would suggest you not test it against that which runs in my blood."
He turned and strode past Bolin. "Lord General, with me."
Bolin tipped his head in acquiescence. He avoided looking at Maurar, partly because he found it difficult to keep from smirking, and partly because, if he did, he would be tempted to run his dagger through the man's chest.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Bolin rapped on Dain's door early the next morning. He gave the four Imperial Guards standing stiffly at attention in the hall a curious look before entering the Emperor's rooms.
"On your way to speak to the elders?" Dain asked from the bedchamber as Bolin made his presence known.
"Aye. I assumed you would want to join me?"
Dain stuck his head into the room. "I think it would be for the best. You look like you haven't slept, and I don't trust Danya Maurar not to take advantage of your temper."
"You're right on both accounts," Bolin said.
"Give me a few moments to finish getting ready. I'm not used to doing this without several handfuls of servants and attendants bustling around."
Bolin resorted to pacing as he waited. His thoughts bounced from Nialyne to the elders, and finally landed on Ciara. His hand drifted to his neck, his finger tracing the pendant. The warmth that spread through him came not only from the magic lingering in the talisman, but the memory of lying with Ciara in his arms. The way she looked up at him with her sleepy smile, the wild tangles of hair framing her face. She had given herself to him completely, without reservation, as he knew she would. In return, he had done the same, something that had caught him by surprise. Never before had he so completely lost himself to a woman. Everything he was, everything he had, was in Ciara's hands to do with as she pleased. He would give her whatever she desired, would move the earth itself should she ask, or die in the trying. The realization both amazed and worried him.
"Do you realize, when you're brooding, it feels just like a storm building on the horizon?"
"I'm not brooding." Bolin turned to face the Emperor, and his brows rose. "But I am, apparently, underdressed."
Where Bolin wore a simple belted tunic and soft britches in the Greensward's colors, the neck and hem richly embroidered, but bearing no other ornamentation or badge of office, Dain had opted for formal robes of silver beneath deep blue. At his hip hung the ornate Imperial sword handed down from one emperor to the next since the days of Hefrin the First, and on his brow sat a circlet of silver set with blue stones. His long black hair glittered like raven's wings as he lifted his shoulders in an uncharacteristic shrug at Bolin's scrutiny.
"I felt Danya Maurar needed a reminder of who, exactly, I am."
Bolin placed a hand over his breast and bowed from the shoulders. "It doesn't hurt to remind me from time to time as well, Your Majesty."
"I'll keep that in mind." Dain tipped his head toward the door. "Shall we, Lord General?"
The guards fell in around them, two to the front, two to the rear. They drew more than a few looks as they passed through the square with its bubbling fountain, following the paved path to the Grand Hall.
They hadn't quite reached the decorated archway leading into the Hall when Bolin pulled up short. A sudden surge of panic swept over him. He'd been going over things in his head; what he needed to say, how he needed to say it, no different than the hundreds of times he'd done the same on the road from Nisair. Until now, however, he hadn't thought about the fact he would actually be saying the words out loud. Doing so would give Nialyne's death both accreditation, and finality. As ridiculous as it sounded, the realization terrified him.
"Bolin?" Dain rested a hand on his arm. "Goddess's blood, man, you're shaking. What is it?"
Bolin shook his head and backed a step. "Nothing. I… nothing. I just need a moment."
"If you need me to do this--"
"No. It falls to me."
Blyth stepped from the shadow of the archway, saw them and started over. Her gentle smile vanished as she drew closer, her eyes softening with sorrow and understanding. She bowed low to Dain, then reached to take Bolin's hand in both of hers.
"We should, perhaps, postpone this meeting until another day," she said.
"I would rather not," Bolin said, surprised how raw his voice sounded. He looked over Blyth's head to the Hall's entrance. "I'm fine. Really. I just fully realized, when I walk into that chamber, Nialyne won't be there." He lowered his gaze back to the elder. "Will her seat be vacant?"
Galys Auld's Grand Hall served many purposes, not the least among them as a meeting chamber. At such times,
the elders sat on a low, crescent-shaped dais, not one of the chairs any more remarkable than the others because, in theory, in this chamber, no elder stood above any other. Still, in the unspoken hierarchy of the Greensward, the elder with the strongest power had the final say in most matters. That had always been Nialyne, without question, and so she had always sat in the centermost seat, more by her compatriots' deference than her own choosing. Maurar sat at her right. Blyth at her left.
Blyth's expression clouded. "It should remain so, but Danya Maurar has not arrived yet, and you know him as well as I."
Bolin drew a deep breath in through his nose, drawing his strength from the power that flowed so freely around him. Nialyne's power hummed in concert and, for once, Bolin surrendered himself to its caress. He rolled his shoulders back, extended his arm to Blyth, and tipped his head to Dain.
"After you, Your Majesty."
"No, my friend." Dain stepped beside Bolin. "In this instance, we arrive as brothers."
So they entered the hall, three abreast. Dain's guards took up positions just inside the doorway. Blyth left them in the center of the room to assume her usual seat. The rest of the elders were already seated, all save Maurar who stood on the dais between the two remaining empty chairs. His gaze swept over the others, carefully avoiding Bolin and Dain, though by right he should have tendered the Emperor the respect due him. He turned, as though considering claiming Nialyne's customary chair, and Bolin's muscles tensed.
Before anyone else could make a move, Dain stepped forward, the regal nature of his bearing and the unmistakable pulse of his power froze any other action. "Elders of the Greensward, my heart is heavy with sorrow for the empire's loss. Even as the Halls of the Goddess are brightened, our world has dimmed."
He produced a sprig of white hart blossoms, leaned forward, and placed them in Nialyne's chair, then dropped to one knee and bowed his head in reverence. Maurar's expression soured, and Bolin thought the elder might remove Dain's offering. To do so would have been an egregious affront, and even Maurar didn't dare insult the Emperor to his face.
Edge of Darkness ~ A Darkness & Light Novel Book Three Page 21