The Darkness of Glengowyn

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The Darkness of Glengowyn Page 8

by Isabo Kelly


  “I understood you’d given up fighting,” Nuala said to cover her surprise, “in favor of weapons trade.”

  Layla glanced at Ulric and shrugged. “I have. I can do without this death and killing. But you represent our chance to end this war once and for all. I’d hardly stay safe while you were in danger.”

  The human’s declaration made Nuala feel both pleased and little hurt, though she wasn’t sure why the hurt.

  “Besides,” Layla finished with another half smile, “I couldn’t wait to meet a relative of Ulric’s that he actually likes.”

  Ulric scowled and sniffed as if this was a subject he’d rather not discuss. Nuala couldn’t blame him. They’d both been baffled and hurt by Althir’s turning traitor to join the Sorcerers. She still had trouble believing it of him. Althir was many things—vain, too charming, arrogant, rude, impossible and jealous of Ulric—but she’d have sworn he was loyal to Glengowyn above all else.

  Einar brought the small group back to the issue at hand. “We need to make for the border. The queen…”

  “Has already confirmed who you are. Though after…” Ulric waved his hand at the smashed and bloody heaps of bodies Einar had left in his wake. “After witnessing the Darkness in action again, there could hardly be doubt.”

  “The queen is here?” Nuala asked, a tickle of dread curling in her stomach.

  “She returned to Glengowyn just after the battle got underway.”

  “Then how?” Nuala glanced between herself and Einar. How could the queen have confirmed their identity for Ulric before even seeing them?

  “The owls,” Einar answered, surprising her.

  “Ah.” Between the presence of the owls earlier to confirm Einar was near and witnessing the release of the Darkness just now, it would be hard for Ulric to doubt him. And if Einar claimed she was Nuala, no one would argue the point. Though her cousin might have been fooled by a Sorcerer’s spell, Einar would never be when it came to her. The queen would know that.

  “The queen also sent out a reaching to make sure there were no glamour spells in the center of the owls’ attack,” Ulric continued. “She sensed only you and Nuala.”

  So the queen had been comfortable confirming their identity, sight unseen. Part of Nuala was more than a little relieved, but an edge of anxiety, waiting for the confrontation with the sovereigns to finally come, kept her from relaxing.

  The sounds of conflict, though farther way, were starting to quiet.

  “Come,” Ulric said. “The border is just beyond that block. There’s a line of soldiers waiting to defend our backs. But…” He glanced off toward the sound of retreating battle. “But I think we’ve beaten them back for the night. The sight of you in all your battle anger probably terrified even the minions.”

  Einar didn’t comment. He just took Nuala’s arm and followed Ulric and Layla to the border. He didn’t return his sword to his scabbard, and she didn’t put away her knife, until they were well behind the safety of the Sinnale line. Even then, when Layla dropped her bow over her head to lie across her back, Nuala waited for Einar to ease his guard before she allowed herself to do the same.

  As morning light spilled into the city streets, the exhaustion of the last few days finally took its toll. She leaned against Einar as they walked farther into safe territory. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, keeping her close.

  Soft pink sunlight colored the air and painted the bricks and cobbles, making everything look cleaner, fresher than it would in bright sun. Nuala loved sunrise. There was a stillness, a quiet to it that usually settled her mind.

  But even exhausted, even passing alive and well through her favorite time of day, a low level of tension tightened Nuala’s stomach.

  They’d avoided having to face the queen and reveal their fall. For now. But it loomed ahead of them. They wouldn’t be able to break the bonding between them now. Nor could they hide it from the queen and king. While she found a small sense of peace having survived the night, with Einar strong at her side, she knew they were far from done with their final fight.

  Chapter Ten

  After brief introductions to some of the Sinnale council members, including Layla’s parents, Nuala and Einar were shown rooms in which to rest and bathe, and promised to be directed to the armory later that afternoon. Nuala had work to do now that she was safely within Sinnale-held territory—at the very center of their defenses. But her magic took energy and she needed rest and food first.

  Though they were given separate rooms, Einar knocked on her door not long after Ulric left to get their breakfast. She’d just finished washing off the dirt, sweat and blood of the last two days, and had slipped into a clean tunic and a loose skirt.

  When she let him in, he didn’t say anything at first, just paced around her room. He’d taken the time to clean up as well, washing away the dried blood that had caused the council members to hesitate and back away from him when Ulric presented him. She had no doubt that all the legends of the Darkness of Glengowyn were running through their heads as they bowed to him. Einar, for his part, remained quiet, distant and respectful, never showing any emotion one way or the other.

  She watched him stalk around her room and wondered if their reactions bothered him or if he preferred for people to think him that bloodthirsty and cold. He looked noble and controlled now, in clean trousers, tunic and vest. His short hair was damp, and whatever soap they’d provided for him surrounded him in a clean, earthy scent. She noticed, though, that he hadn’t let down his guard in the safer surroundings. He’d strapped his sword around his waist before joining her.

  Her room, small but very clean, looked smaller still with him in it. But the space was comfortable after their previous surroundings. The wash basin had been filled with fresh water. Clean, lightly scented towels were stacked under the basin stand. A blue ceramic heater in one corner was stocked with kindling, flint and wood, should she get cold. The bed was high and comfortably made up with thick blankets and several pillows. A small wooden wardrobe sat in the corner opposite the heater. Inside, she’d found several changes of clothes, all freshly laundered, some of them her own from the supply wagons that had traveled with her party from Glengowyn. The tunic and skirt she’d been able to don after bathing were hers, and having her own clothing was a comfort.

  Given that the city had been at war for two years, Nuala suspected her room was one of their best and was grateful for the Sinnale’s thoughtfulness.

  Einar stopped pacing at the first of two large windows that spilled morning light into the room. He studied the street below, the outside walls of the building and the lock above the double panes before moving to the next window.

  Checking on her security, she thought. Even here in allied territory.

  “I’m sure we’re safe,” she commented, though she didn’t stop him from doing what he thought best. He was here as her bodyguard after all. Though there was more between them—and his actions—than that. No one would begrudge him his precautions.

  When he’d finished his study of the windows, he opened the wardrobe and nodded approvingly at the clothing. “I’m glad some of the wagons made it through the attack.”

  That had been one of his first questions to Ulric once they were inside Sinnale borders. She and Einar had both been relieved to hear the casualties of that attack had been minimal. Once she’d escaped, the fighting had ended quickly. Because of that, the supplies of arrows—both her standard; the fire-tips, which were only now being traded with the Sinnale; and Nuala’s particular special arrows, also only now being allowed into Sinnale hands—had arrived safely and were waiting for her to set.

  “The elves of your guard are still here,” he continued. “You’ll have a proper escort back to Glengowyn.”

  The thought of going home sent her stomach dancing with nerves. She wanted to say something about that fear, but Einar’s mood seemed so pensive she decided it best to wait for him to say what he was here to say.

  He finally stopped movin
g and settled his hands on his hips, his head bowed forward. Then he straightened. “You need rest and food. We can talk later.”

  “Einar…” She stopped him as he made for the door. “What’s wrong?”

  He held perfectly still with his back to her for a moment. Then he turned and closed the space between them in two steps. Before she could gasp, he had her face between his palms and he was kissing her, desperately, hard, like they’d been separated again for a century. She wrapped herself around him, matching the kiss, matching the passion. She couldn’t stop. Though she didn’t fully understand what drove him, in that moment, she didn’t care.

  He lifted his mouth too soon and stared down at her. “I would do anything for you. Remember that.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath at the intensity in his gaze.

  “I will let you go if you don’t want to face banishment.”

  The statement startled her and she stepped back quickly as if she’d been slapped. He let her. “What are you talking about? I thought I made myself clear on this subject.”

  “Passion in the moment.”

  “How dare you?” she hissed. “After everything, how dare you presume my feelings for you are that fleeting?”

  “When the queen and king demanded we separate, you broke with me.” He firmed his shoulders and there was no longer emotion in his expression. “You chose then.”

  “I chose? I knew what you would choose and simply beat you to the break.”

  He frowned. “You have no idea what I wanted. You never asked.”

  “You were the king and queen’s personal guard. You have always been about duty above anything else. Your loyalty was beyond question. Of course you would choose them over me. How could I think otherwise?”

  He crossed the space between them in a single step and took her shoulders in his hands, bringing his face close to hers. “Listen to this well, Nuala. I was prepared to choose banishment. I came to you that day to tell you I wanted you above everything. And you set me aside. In the name of duty.”

  She shook her head, denying words she couldn’t believe.

  “I told the queen, before I came to you, that I would not be separated from you if you wanted me. She threatened banishment, the Or’roan. And I chose you.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she wailed.

  Two centuries. Two centuries of pain and loss and longing. Two centuries of denying this love between them. Because she thought he would choose his sovereigns over her.

  “You made your choice.”

  “Only because I thought I knew what you’d say, and I didn’t…” Her throat closed up as centuries of suppressed tears built and threatened to flow. “I couldn’t hear you say you didn’t love me enough to stay,” she finally whispered. And the tears fell.

  Between her exhaustion, the recent battles, the bonding with Einar, Nuala was overwhelmed and exposed. She couldn’t hide from him. She couldn’t control the emotions roiling through her. Regret and fear tangled with love and need, desperation and loss all one giant hand closing around her heart and squeezing.

  Einar released a sigh that took all the tension from his shoulders and his grip on her arms. He hugged her close, tucking her head beneath his chin, and held her as tightly as she clung to him.

  When the emotional storm started to ease, Einar skimmed one hand up and down her back, the gentle stroke a comfort.

  “I’ve always loved you,” she said. She’d held those words inside for so long, even during their initial mating, it felt cathartic to finally allow them out and hear them aloud.

  “You’ve never told me before,” he murmured into her hair.

  “Neither have you,” she challenged. But she knew he loved her. It was there in the Shaerta when they made love.

  His chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “I’ve loved you much longer than you could know. Well before our first mating. Before the war.”

  She leaned back to look up at him. “Before the war? We barely spoke before then.”

  “I knew.”

  “Knew?”

  “We would bond. I could feel it in my soul. If we mated, we’d bond. Our magics would mix. I knew that would…complicate things. And you would break my heart. But I couldn’t stop loving you.”

  She wanted to cry again, but her tears had dried up. “What changed?” Because as soon as the war had ended, they did give in to the Shaerta. They only had two nights together before the king and queen demanded they part, not long enough to fully bond, but enough to change her life forever.

  “You didn’t run away when you saw what I could be. You weren’t afraid, after that night in the camp when the goblins snuck in. You were the only one who didn’t change toward me.”

  “Ulric didn’t. The soldiers in your regiment didn’t.”

  “Ulric was my commander. He’d seen me in battle and knew what I was capable of. He’d already seen my worst. You don’t really remember our friendship before that war, do you?”

  “No.”

  “He was already an admired soldier from the first war. I respected him and looked up to him. I wanted to fight under his command. But until we went into battle, even I didn’t know what I was capable of. He… Well, he wasn’t as easy with me after that. There was respect but no longer the camaraderie he had with the others under his command. None of the other soldiers were comfortable with me either.”

  He cupped her cheek in one large hand, his thumb lightly caressing her cheekbone. “But you… You worried about me after seeing what I became when I let myself. You came to me immediately. Washed away the blood. Checked for wounds. The same as today. You didn’t shy back. You weren’t afraid.”

  “I could never be afraid of you. Not that way.”

  “What way then?”

  “Oh, Einar. The damage you could do to my heart terrifies me. I’m afraid of that. But I don’t worry, even in the heat of battle, that you would lash out at me.”

  She watched his throat work as he swallowed hard. “I would do anything for you, Nuala. You know that? I would happily go into banishment, take on the Or’roan… I would even give you up again if that made you happier.”

  “Stop. Don’t ever say that to me again. Not ever.”

  “It’s not too late—”

  “Enough, I said. It is too late. It was too late centuries ago. We just weren’t ready to accept. I didn’t trust your feelings, and you didn’t trust mine. But this time… This time the bond is tightening fast. Faster than the first time we were together. You can feel it too. There’s no going back now. I wouldn’t want to even if we could.”

  “Your magic?”

  She looked away. “I don’t know. I’ll know when I try. I haven’t felt different, so it’s possible we haven’t melded completely yet.”

  He stepped away from her so suddenly, she rocked backward. “I’ll leave then. If we can keep the balance for a little while longer, so you can finish this last trade, maybe the king and queen will be merciful. Banishment but no curse.”

  She was exhausted, emotionally wrung out, and in need of food and sleep before working her magic later. He was right, it would be better if he left. If for no other reason than she’d actually sleep. But she didn’t want him to go. They’d been through too much in such a short period of time. All she wanted was the comfort of his big body next to her.

  “Don’t,” she said, flattening her hands on his chest. “Not yet. I know I need to rest, but… At least keep me company while we eat. I don’t want to be alone yet.”

  His entire body loosened as tension dropped away and he tugged her back into his arms. “I never could refuse you anything.”

  She snorted, snuggling her cheek against his chest. “You refused to teach me how to fight, as I recall.”

  “Ah. That was an order from King Varim. He didn’t think you’d need it and was afraid it would take too much time away from working your magic.”

  “Ulric and Althir still taught me to throw a knife.”

  “Ulric is a fa
vorite of the sovereigns. He could get away with more than I could. At least where you were concerned. And Althir…Althir could charm his way out of a dargem pit.”

  She shivered at the mention of the deadly creatures that called the Unseen Plain their home. They were the stuff of elven nightmares, grotesque and lethal. Since she didn’t want to have nightmares when she finally slept, she concentrated on the first part of his comment.

  “You’re a favorite with the sovereigns too. Queen Rohannah made that clear when she ordered me to stay away from you. She didn’t want to lose you any more than she wanted to endanger my magic.”

  “I’m…a good threat. Having me behind them ensures no one risks their wrath.”

  Nuala pursed her lips. “Hmm. I’m not sure that’s the only reason the queen favors you.”

  She felt his silent chuckle in the sudden movement of his chest against her cheek. Looking up, she scowled. “Why are you laughing?”

  “I’m surprised. Is that jealousy I hear?”

  Her scowl deepened. “Don’t you dare tease me. The queen is beautiful and powerful, and she gets what she wants. You’re always around her. How could she not want you?”

  He leaned down and kissed her frowning mouth, the humor in his eyes mixing with tenderness.

  “As I’ve said, my heart has been yours for a very long time now. Even the queen couldn’t change that.” He set his nose close to hers, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “And she never tried. She recognized a lost cause when she saw one.”

  Wrinkling her nose, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks, she shrugged. “Fine.”

  “And you?”

  “Me what?”

  “There have been men since me who’ve wanted you. Powerful elves.”

  “Oh, I was never one to worry about. After the war, the queen and king made it perfectly clear to all that I was off limits.” Though why they’d bothered, she had no idea. Even if she’d wanted to have sex with anyone else after being with Einar, which she hadn’t, bonding had only ever been a risk with Einar. “I was too valuable to risk,” she finished. She couldn’t stop herself from sneering that last. Her value had kept her from the man she loved for so long, resentment was a ready companion.

 

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