The Temple of Ardyn (Song of the Swords Book 2)

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The Temple of Ardyn (Song of the Swords Book 2) Page 32

by Tameri Etherton


  Hayden’s mind whirled. Baehlon and Denzil hated each other.

  “Stop your bellowing. You’ve naught been here but a moment. I saw you approach and waited until it was safe.”

  “Would either of you like something to drink? Tea? Or perhaps something stronger? We have ale or trisp. Some wine?”

  Hayden recognized Tarro’s voice immediately. This must be his home, but why would he allow Baehlon and his brother to meet there? The questions were piling upon themselves with no answers coming forward.

  “No, thank you, Tarro. I won’t be long.” That was Baehlon. “What news have you?”

  Hasty whispers warned Hayden a moment too late. A brawny hand clasped his shoulder and he glanced upwards where three amused faces stared at him.

  “Would you like some tea?” Tarro offered genially.

  “I would, thank you.” Hayden traipsed to the back door, where the tailor met him with a steaming cup in his hand. He hadn’t been serious about the tea but took it from the man with a mumbled thanks. That he’d been discovered chafed.

  “As I was telling Denzil here, the first rule of espionage is make certain no one else is following the person you’re interested in. Right, brother?”

  Denzil lifted his chin and the tiny bells in his sculpted beard jingled. Now that he saw them together, he could detect similarities in their features, namely their almond-shaped eyes, and the broad expanse of chest that led to muscled arms, but beyond that, they were as different as could be. Denzil didn’t have Baehlon’s height, nor his serious demeanor. The mercenary’s eyes danced with inner mischief and a smile rarely left his face.

  “Aye. But he’s green, this one. Unschooled in the ways of the world.”

  Hayden opened his mouth to argue, but they were right. His books, not experience, taught him much of what he knew. “Then teach me to be a spy.”

  The brothers laughed, a hearty sound that shook the timbered walls of Tarro’s home. “You are a scholar, young Hayden, not a warrior or spy. Perhaps it’s best if it stay that way.”

  “No, I’m serious. The world is becoming more complex and I could benefit from anything you might impart to me.”

  Denzil stroked his goatee, lips pursed in thought. “You know, the boy might be onto something. The princess is rather fond of him. If he insists on sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, he will most likely get himself killed.”

  “I’m proficient with a sword and ShantiMari,” Hayden argued. “I can protect myself.”

  “Yes, but the world is full of thieves and murderers who are skilled at avoiding both. I’ll do what I can, as will Denzil, and when Ebus returns, we’ll have him teach you a few tricks. But I tell you true, you are a lord, not a spy. Never think otherwise.”

  Hayden understood what he wasn’t saying. If anything happened to Zakael, the duke was next in line to inherit the Obsidian Throne. His father had told him on several occasions he would decline, passing the title to Hayden.

  “Gentlemen,” Tarro interrupted, “our time grows short.”

  “Yes, of course.” Baehlon glanced up the stairs before raising an eyebrow at the tailor. “Is he not at work?”

  “He is, but others will be coming home and none of you should be seen here. Least of all you, my lord.”

  “Then let’s get to it, shall we?” Denzil offered. “As for news, I have some to report.” He withdrew a paper from inside his heavy coat and handed it to Baehlon. “Proof the empress is forcing the taxes upon the Summerlands and the Danuri. It appears she tried to bribe the Geigan, but they have little interest in her gold. Dealing mostly in leather goods and minerals, they work closely with the Artagh, who also refused the empress. Ulla, however, is under her protection. For what reason, we’ve yet to decipher.”

  “And the reason for the increased taxes?” Hayden asked. He had several working theories, but no way to corroborate any of them.

  “It’s simple, really. She wishes to weaken the other kingdom’s economies.”

  “But why?” Tarro asked.

  Two facts popped into Hayden’s mind: Tarro worked for the empress, and his lover was from the Summerlands. Surely his loyalties were to his lover and not the empress. Otherwise Hayden doubted Baehlon would trust him enough to meet in his home.

  He surveyed the room, noting the expensive trinkets scattered on tables and shelves. A tailor could not afford such luxuries, but one of the most popular whores in Talaith could. Or, they were gifts from clients. Hayden met Tarro’s amused gaze, puzzled at exactly how it worked—being the lover of a whore.

  “Quite well, actually,” Tarro answered the unspoken question.

  Embarrassed, Hayden blustered an apology, but Tarro smiled genially. “You are not the first to wonder, nor the last. Yes, it’s tiresome at times, but mostly, I don’t dwell on what he does for a living.”

  “If you’re finished?” Baehlon interrupted. “I believe the question was why is Lliandra draining the Summerlands and Danuri economies. Any thoughts?”

  “To fill her coffers, of course.” Denzil grunted. “The gods know she doesn’t pay for shite, and the money has to be going somewhere.”

  “Not only to make her kingdom wealthier,” Hayden began, “but as you said, to weaken the other kingdoms. I have a theory, but it’s treasonous to think.”

  “And our little tea party is what, exactly?”

  “Good point, Baehlon. I believe the empress is fading. She is stocking her treasury with coin for Marissa’s rule, yes, but she’s weakening two of the largest economies. Why? When Marissa takes the throne, she will cast aside her mother’s taxes, apologizing for the wicked deeds of her predecessor and make amends to the Summerlands and Danuri.”

  “Interesting theory, but what about Ulla?”

  “My brother has a point, Hayden. Why protect the desert kingdom?” Baehlon insisted.

  “I haven’t sorted that out yet, but I believe it has something to do with Ulla’s proximity to the Narthvier. Taryn is, after all, linked to the people of the great forest. If Lliandra thinks there’s any way she can coerce her daughter to turn against the Eleri, she has an army at their doorstep.”

  “She wouldn’t!”

  “I believe she would, Tarro. Fortunately for us, I know my cousin better than her mother. Taryn would never betray Rhoane’s people.”

  The thought of Taryn pinched his heart. He’d tried several more times to contact her, each receiving no reply.

  They ended the meeting with promises to keep one another abreast of any developments. For his part, Tarro took pains to make certain his guests left the house undetected. His skill with ShantiMari was minimal, but his ability to distract passersby with his flamboyant personality more than made up for the lack of power.

  Hayden left first, skirting the edge of the lane where trees provided ample shadows in the late evening light. When he reached the crossroad that led to the marketplace, he hesitated, deciding he’d visit with Adesh another day. The sun dipped close to the ocean when he reached the palace gates and he veered left toward the gardens instead of entering the massive building.

  Sunset was his favorite time of the day. The setting of the sun and rising of the moon reminded him of lovers cast apart for all time. Only a few times per season were they permitted to share the same sky, their orbs close, but not touching. It was a sad tale of unrequited love, and yet he thought the sun and moon were not unhappy in the arrangement. If anything, they were hopeful. Every morning and every evening they rose with the hope they would be together at last.

  You should write a story about the sun and moon, my poetic cousin.

  Taryn!Hayden almost spun around to find her standing behind him.Are you well? We’ve been so worried.

  I’m well and will be in Paderau soon.

  Something happened. Sabina had a vision—you were surrounded by blackness and in pain.

  Tell Sabina there is no need to worry.

  When will you be home?

  Silence stretched between them and Hayden f
eared he’d lost her.

  Soon. There are a few things I need to do first. Is everyone…

  Her voice caught and he detected a slight sob in her thoughts.

  Is everyone well in Talaith?

  We miss you, but yes, we are well.He concentrated hard on the next words he spoke silently.You are loved and needed byallof your friends.

  Thank you, my sweet cousin. I miss you more than words can say.

  Give Father my regards. I hope to see you before the twin moons.

  I will.He sensed her drifting off, but then her laughter echoed in his mind.

  What of the twin moons, eh? Does the sun romance them both?

  Another voice distracted him, and he thought he heard her speaking Eleri before her laughter died away and the connection ended.

  He stood resolute at the seawall until the last of the sun’s rays winked out and the moon rose in the west. Two moons for one sun! What a ninny he was, waxing poetic on the celestial cycle. Perhaps Baehlon was right; he was not fit to be a spy. His weapon was intellect, of that he had no doubt.

  Sabina’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, not having heard her approach, but happy for the company. She would be well pleased to know Taryn was safe, but for the moment, he wanted to share the eventide with his love. Lights twinkled under the moon’s steady gaze and the scent of night blooming flowers perfumed the air.

  Hayden turned Sabina to face him and cupped her cheek in his palm. “I love you, Princess Sabina of the Summerlands. More than the sun loves the moon, more than the stars in the sky. Your intelligence, your smile, the way you toss your hair and stomp your pretty feet when you aren’t getting your way: they are as dear to me as breath itself. I don’t ever want to be without you. Please say you’ll marry me.”

  Tears shimmered in her eyes and spilled over her lovely cheeks, wetting his hand. “I’m sorry, Hayden, but I cannot.”

  Chapter 36

  THEY saw no more of Zakael through the Dierlin Pass nor on the road to Paderau. Kaida predicted they wouldn’t see him again anytime soon. At least not alone. They rode only during the day and stayed at an inn or farmstead whenever possible. She avoided her manor house and Ravenwood, certain they would be watched for her arrival.

  In addition to searching the skies for Zakael, Taryn kept alert to any sign of the Shadow Assassin. From the way Valterys questioned Lliandra’s men, she suspected he wasn’t the one behind the attacks. If he were, he knew where Taryn was headed and certainly would’ve sent the assassin after her. Still, she wasn’t taking any chances.

  Taryn had not sent word to anyone regarding her whereabouts for fear the message would be intercepted. Her communication with Hayden was a risk, but the worry she sensed in each of his calls alarmed her. She risked the one communication and hoped she’d not been discovered.

  When they crested the ridge and Taryn saw Paderau beyond the city walls, she hugged Gian to her. He gestured them forward with agitated excitement.

  “Eager for a warm meal and soft mattress, are you?” she joked. He nodded, pointing toward Paderau. “Patience, my friend. Niko’s had a long ride.” Encouraged by a warm stall and fresh oats, Nikosana quickened his pace, with Kaida loping alongside them.

  Gian gaped in wide-eyed wonder as they passed through the new city and into the older section of Paderau. It wasn’t so long ago she had the same expression on her face when she first entered the city walls. When they turned onto the boulevard leading to the palace, he twisted right and then left to look at the fine homes.

  “Just wait until you see Talaith. Paderau is pretty, but the capital city is gorgeous,” Taryn whispered in his ear.

  Grander than this? His shock sounded in her mind.

  “Much more. There is a large harbor where ships bring goods from all seven kingdoms. Have you ever swum in the ocean, Gian?” When he shook his head, she said, “Well, you shall. The weather is warming up and soon it will be nice enough to swim at the beach.” Suddenly, she felt a longing for Talaith, a physical ache that wrenched her heart.

  What is it, Darennsai? Gian asked.

  I miss my home.

  There was a moment of silence in her mind.My home is with you now.

  Gian, why can you not return to the vier?When he’d showed her his maimed tongue where Zakael had burned him so severely he was unable to speak, she had touched his mind with her power to lessen the horrors her half-brother inflicted on him. Even though he trusted her, he’d not told her why he couldn’t go home.I was unaware of the woodland folk becoming sheanna.

  She heard a gasp in her mind.Not sheanna, no. The tall man did things to me that would make Eleri sheanna, but that is not why I cannot return.

  Then why? I know when Eleri are away from the vier, they fade a little each day. Is it the same for faeries?

  Perhaps. I have heard Prince Rhoane has a woodland faerie as his servant.

  Alasdair. He is Rhoane’s valet. Hearing Gian say Rhoane’s name so casually tore at Taryn. In a matter of days, she would see him again. The thought thrummed through her thoughts.

  I am sorry, Darennsai. I did not mean to upset you.

  Do you know Illanr or Carld? They are Alasdair’s sisters. They live in the Weirren.

  He shrugged.My clan is not often found at court.

  They reached the gate and the guard smiled while greeting Taryn with a stiff salute. She left Nikosana with a groom and gave Ashanni a quick kiss on her muzzle before heading into the palace. Duke Anje grabbed her in a bear hug and spun her around.

  “My darling niece has come home at last.” He held her out, scrutinizing her. “You’re positively whittled away to nothing. We’ll have to fatten you up before we see your mother. She’ll have my head for lunch if she thinks I’m to blame for this.”

  “I’m well, Uncle, thanks for asking,” Taryn said dryly. “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.” She reached behind her and pulled the faerie to stand before her uncle. “Duke Anje, this is Gian. Gian, this is my uncle, the formidable and yet utterly lovable Duke Anje. This is his home.”

  “And yours as well, my darling.” He bent to Gian and said, “It is an honor to have one of the woodland folk staying in my humble home. You are welcome, Gian.”

  He clasped Gian’s arm and Taryn saw there were tears in his eyes. He wiped them away before saying to Kaida, “And you, dreadful beast that you are, I see you’re still hanging about with my niece.”

  Kaida barked and he laughed.

  “She says she hopes you still have that wonderful mutton you fed her last visit,” Taryn said.

  “Does she now? We’ll just have to see what we can find for the mongrel. Come inside. There are many who are eager to see you.” Taryn’s step faltered and Anje turned back to her. “What is it, dear?”

  “Who?”

  “Just the usual—servants, myself, Lords Tinsley and Aomori, other nobles from across the land.” He stopped. “Prince Rhoane is not here, if that is what you are asking.”

  A flush spread across her cheeks. “How much do you know?”

  “Nothing more than court gossip and speculation.” He took her arm. “If you wish to confide in me, I am a wonderful listener. I will also respect your silence.”

  They found a room for Gian close to Taryn’s and left him in the capable hands of several servants. He begged to stay with her, but she explained that here, she was a princess and she must follow certain protocols. Sleeping with a faerie in her room was frowned upon unless he was her betrothed.

  He’d blushed when she said the last part and Taryn was reminded of his innocence. As he’d explained it to her, a faerie of sixty-four seasons was the equivalent of ten Aelan seasons, making him, in essence, a contemporary of Tessa’s.

  While Gian rested, Taryn dined alone with Duke Anje in his private room. As they ate, he told her about the escape of the Shadow Assassin. Less than a month after she and Rhoane left Celyn Eryri, someone had knocked out the guard and freed the assassin. By then, she
and Rhoane had left Gaarendahl and since Lliandra didn’t know where they were, she let them continue their journey with the hope they would be safe.

  When Taryn told Anje of the conversation she overheard at Caer Idris, he scratched at his beard, which meant something troubled him. It was one of the little things Taryn loved about her uncle. “Because there were no attacks on my travels here, I believe Valterys is not the one controlling the Shadow Assassin. He made it very clear to Zakael that he needed me alive. He said something about taking me to Rykoto at mid-summer,” Taryn explained.

  “Do you know for what purpose?”

  “No, but he said he needed my blood and my blade.” She retrieved the scroll she’d smuggled from his library. “I found this when I was there. It mentions those two things. There must be another sheet, but I couldn’t find it.”

  Anje took the paper from her and read it. “I know this scroll. I spent my childhood at Caer Idris and I, like you, read everything I could get my hands on. At the time, it was locked in my uncle’s rooms. Passing strange that it was just lying around.” Anje tapped his fingers on the parchment, frustration apparent on his face. “If I’d known, I would’ve looked for it when I visited Valterys.”

  Taryn was taken aback. “When did you go to my father?”

  “Just after you and Rhoane left for the Narthvier and Carga’s purification. I thought it was past time I rekindled my Dark Shanti.”

  “You did that for me, didn’t you?” He could’ve been killed at Caer Idris, but he risked Valterys’s wrath for her. Warmth spread from her heart to her pendant and through her veins, blooming into a well of gratitude. “Thank you.”

  “I would sacrifice myself a thousand times over for you, my darling.”

  “I hope you never have to. But, Uncle, there’s another reason I need your strength.” She told him of her travels to Gaarendahl, ending with her appearance at his door. She left out nothing and Anje listened without interruption as she spoke.

 

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