The caravan wove its way through the city, with Taryn keeping an eye to the shadows. It wasn’t the threat of the assassin that made her heart beat against her chest in rapid succession, but the thought of seeing Rhoane. At that moment, combating the assassin would’ve been easier to bear. Gian’s excited chatter in her mind didn’t help matters. When they first saw the shining spires of the palace in the distance, he’d shuddered at the immensity of the city.
The smile on his face as they rode through the palace gates set Taryn at ease. Certainly his clan wouldn’t recognize him now as he rode his pony proudly, looking every inch a lord. Gian gesticulated to the crowd awaiting their arrival in the courtyard. Taryn scanned the faces, smiling at her sisters and friends. Sabina bounced up and down, waving a scarf, with Hayden standing tall beside her, inclining his head as she passed. Tessa ran alongside Nikosana, asking questions about the young boy who rode the pony.
She dismounted and kissed Tessa’s hair, holding her tightly. “I’ve missed you. How have you been?”
“Bored.” Her eyes drifted to Gian.
“If you must know, he is a woodland faerie I found on my adventures. He’s going to live with us for some time. His name is Gian.” Taryn called him over.
Tessa curtseyed low and introduced herself. Gian blushed crimson.
“He doesn’t speak words, Tessa. Lords Aomori and Tinsley have taught him sign language. Perhaps you would like to learn as well?”
Tessa linked her arm in Gian’s and Taryn nodded to him that the princess could be trusted. They were of a similar height, but Gian had none of the baby fat Tessa retained.
Her blonde curls bobbed as she nodded. “Of course, I will learn this language so that you and I can converse. You simply must tell me what it’s like to be a faerie. I was in the Narthvier, you know, for several weeks last summer and I saw all manner of creatures that enchanted me.” They strolled away and before Taryn knew it, she was enfolded in many sets of arms.
“We feared the worst when Prince Rhoane arrived without you. He told us you were in the Narthvier, but I sensed much darkness around you,” Sabina said in a low voice.
“I’m home now. There is nothing to worry about,” Taryn assured them. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen your faces. Let me look at you all.” She kissed each one and walked arm-in-arm with them toward the palace.
At the other end of the drive, the empress spoke with Duke Anje. Protocol probably dictated she should greet her mother, but Taryn was in no mood. Nor was she ready to face Marissa, who stood close to Lliandra’s side. A sneer slithered across her sister’s lips when their eyes met, a hidden challenge in their lavender depths. Taryn met the glare, then returned her attention to her friends. A blast of her sister’s ShantiMari pummeled against Taryn and she stumbled.
Hayden caught her. “You’ve been too long in the saddle, cousin. You’ve forgotten how to walk on solid ground.”
“At least I have you to catch my fall,” Taryn said, taking his hand in hers. A tightness to his smile upset her. When she turned to Sabina, the same constraint pinched her features. Something had happened between the pair, something upsetting enough to cause a divide. Tension rolled off them in waves, battering Taryn’s fragile senses.
She scanned the area for Rhoane, not finding him among the crowd. Eliahnna, always a little too perceptive, said in her quiet voice, “Prince Rhoane is not here. I’m sure if he knew you were to return today, he would’ve come home.”
“He’s gone? Where?”
“No one knows. He left one morning and hasn’t been heard from since.”
“It must be something important. I’ll see him when he returns.” She kept her voice casual, but her knees weakened and she swayed against Hayden.
Sabina gave her a sharp look. “Too long in the saddle?”
“Sure, let’s go with that,” Taryn said without much enthusiasm. “I’ve been dreaming of my lovely bed for far too long. I could sleep for a week.”
After settling Gian into his rooms a few floors below hers, she closed the door to her chamber and sighed with relief. She wanted nothing more than a few bells of rest before having to answer questions, explaining her absence. But first she braced herself for the onslaught of her maids.
They fussed over her while asking about her travels. When she avoided answering them, they took the hint. Taryn inspected Ellie’s scar, relieved it wasn’t as hideous as her nightmares had shown. A thin white crescent ran the length of her face from temple to chin, almost beautiful in its symmetry.
“I’ve heard you stay hidden away in my rooms. Is this true?” Taryn asked.
“I find my tasks are better completed here, Your Highness. The other girls enjoy the duties that take them outside and so I defer to them on these matters,” Ellie answered.
“Yes, well, you can tell yourself that lie all you want, but you’re hiding, Ellie. We talked about this before I left Celyn Eryri. Now that I’m home, I want to see you walk with your head held high. With pride in your step.” She paused, thinking for a moment. “I have a friend I want you to meet. Until then, we’ll talk of this no more. I’ve been on the road too long and have missed your wonderful baths. Once I’m rested, we’ll resume our conversation.”
Ellie’s voice was tight, her curtsey stiff. “As you wish, Princess.”
Taryn sank into the hot water, feeling her weariness slip away. She dipped below the surface and silently let her tears of disappointment flow. She’d longed to see her betrothed. His absence could only mean he had abandoned her. The runes on her hand still glowed with their bonds, but she was disconnected from him. It tore at her heart with a savagery that left her wanting to shriek to the heavens. Instead, she vowed to keep her true emotions hidden.
Her maids dressed her in a fine silk gown and then arranged a tiara in her curls, all the while trading off telling her what had happened in the palace since she’d been gone. It was the usual gossip and intrigues that came with court life.
She half-listened as she sat in her favorite chair awaiting Gian, admiring the perfect stitches of her dress. Each had been placed with precision by Tarro’s competent fingers, and she imagined the care he took in making the gown for her. They truly cared for her, Tarro and her maids. The realization stunned her in the solar plexus, robbing her of breath.
She blinked away fresh tears and took up her looking glass, passing it between her fingers with pent-up energy. On impulse, she whispered, “Show me Myrddin.” It flared to life, showing the mage speaking quietly with Lliandra. “What are they saying?” The glass ball remained silent. Apparently, only Myrddin’s glass could transmit sound. “Show me what is in Myrddin’s ball,” she commanded. The looking glass sparked and sputtered and then blinked out. Her heavy sigh frosted the glass.
“Show me any intruders besides my maids who have entered my rooms.” It was a vast request, but she was curious how much the glass would show. Images of servants coming into her rooms to air out the closets or clean her gowns glowed in the ball. Once or twice Margaret Tan would take an outfit, bringing another in its place. Windows were opened and furniture moved, but otherwise there had been nothing to indicate danger.
“Show me whether Marissa entered my rooms,” she whispered. The ball remained blank. That, at least, was good news. “Show me Prince Rhoane.” The words were out before she could pull them back.
Rhoane’s face glowed in the ball. A sob caught in her throat. His hair was short as if he were sheanna and she frowned. Rhoane would never cut his hair willingly. His pointed ears tipped forward, listening beyond what others could hear. Where he was, Taryn couldn’t tell, but the focus of his eyes and set of his jaw told her he was not in danger. Yet, he wasn’t relaxed, either. She sent him a silent wish wrapped in love for his safety and success in his endeavor.
She inspected the glass ball and said, “Never let Myrddin hear or see my actions.” She didn’t know if it would work, but figured what the hell, it was worth a shot. As an afterthought, she said, “Or any
one who views his great looking glass.” Lights flashed within the ball and then suddenly stopped.
Gian entered the room, fidgeting with the hem of his silk tunic, not meeting the curious glances of her maids. Taryn patted the seat beside her. “Gian, these are my maids. This is Lorilee—you might remember her sister Mayla from Paderau.” Gian nodded his head to her. “This is Saeko and over here is Ellie. They are very important to me, as are you. There is nothing you can’t confide in them. They are beholden to me and have sworn to keep my secrets safe within their hearts.”
Do they also have a life debt with you?
No, but do you see the pretty girl with the scar? She nearly lost her life for me.
Gian gaped at Ellie with a curious expression.
She explained to her maids that Gian spoke with his hands and she would like them to learn his language. When Gian objected, she gently told him it wasn’t just a game he played with the young lords, but a great skill. He blushed slightly but nodded agreement.
“Why can’t he speak?” Lorilee asked.
“He was tortured and has no tongue.”
Ellie gasped, covering her face. Without provocation, Gian showed them the charred stump. “Who would do such a thing?” Ellie asked.
“Zakael.”
Her maids stared at her with identical horrified expressions.
“My enemies are many. Some we know, others we do not. I need you all to be strong in the coming seasons. If you wish to stay in my service, I require you to begin weapons training and martial arts. I can’t bear the thought of losing any of you, but I will understand if you wish to leave my employ.”
Ellie trembled so violently Taryn feared she was having an attack. Gian sat with her, stroking her hair, mewing kind words she couldn’t understand. Stuttering through her tears, Ellie said, “I’d like to stay.”
Lorilee and Saeko readily agreed to the training and anything else she required. It did not warm her heart to demand it of them, but if she couldn’t protect those she loved, she’d make damn sure they could protect themselves.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Fortunately for Taryn, the Crystal Palace always provided a new opportunity for entertainment. As far as the courtiers were concerned, Taryn’s disappearance didn’t warrant their time or attention. Her adventures were a momentary concern and then they moved on.
Gian became a curiosity for several days but because he refused to speak with anyone, his allure dimmed. He spent most of his time with either Tessa or Lord Aomori. If they were busy, Taryn often saw him with Eliahnna, tucked in a corner with a book. Wherever he went, he alerted her to his location, should she require his company.
Since returning to Talaith, she preferred solitude to the boisterous rooms of the palace, often begging off from invitations with her sisters and even Sabina. The princesses did their best to cheer her, but melancholy clung to her like a second skin. No matter how hard she tried to shake it off, it remained, growing stronger each day. She was sitting on the seawall, contemplating the dark skies and heavy clouds one afternoon, when Baehlon sat beside her.
“Looks like rain,” she said.
“Aye, typical weather this time of season. It will be warm soon enough, to be sure,” Baehlon offered and cleared his throat. “What happened with Gian? It isn’t like the woodland folk to up and leave their home.”
She rested her head on her knee and told him about Kaida leading her into Valterys’ dungeons, where they found Gian close to death. Baehlon winced at her description of his torture, nodding when she said she’d tried to take him back to the vier, but Gian insisted he had to stay with her.
“A life debt for a faerie is serious, Taryn. I get the feeling it’s more than just saving him from your father.”
“He hasn’t said why he owes me a life debt. When he’s ready, he’ll tell me.” Tears stung her eyes and she looked away before he saw them. “Did Rhoane tell you what happened at Gaarendahl?”
“Aye. Nasty piece of work, that. You did right to take him to his family.” Baehlon put his hand on her shoulder and she sagged into it. He moved closer, wrapping his big arm around her shoulders, holding her close.
“Is he lost to me, Baehlon?”
“He’s in shadow, it’s true, but you’ve naught to worry about where his heart is concerned.”
“I’ve been in Talaith several days and he hasn’t returned. Surely he knows I’m here.” Taryn sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve.
“I doubt that. He’s keeping a low profile, working undercover right now. He won’t be speaking with anyone from the palace, lest he is found out,” Baehlon said.
“What’s he doing?”
“Nothing you need to know about. Not yet, at least. In truth, I don’t know all that he’s up to. Just a bit of information here and there to let me know he’s alive. This is what Rhoane does. It’s what makes him excellent at ferreting out what needs to be known.”
More than likely it involved her. If Baehlon didn’t want to share information, she’d not pester him, but it upset her Rhoane would send word to Baehlon and not her. She had a right to know he was well. But then, she hadn’t sent word to him while on her travels.
“Did Iselt come to Talaith?” She changed the topic to something benign. She’d hoped the blacksmith would, but he was an interesting man and not easily swayed.
“He did. Set himself up with a smithy and everything.”
“Oh, good. Will you take me there tomorrow? I’d like to see how he’s getting on.”
Baehlon fidgeted and she glanced up at his broad features. His scowl reached the tip of his chin. “He’s not in Talaith at the moment.”
“Where is he?”
“Off on some bloody fool’s errand your prince set him upon.”
Taryn straightened and faced the knight. “He what? How did Rhoane know Iselt was in Talaith? What exactly has been going on since I’ve been gone? Rhoane disappears, now you tell me Iselt is gone, Hayden and Sabina are barely speaking to each other. Next thing you’ll tell me is you and Faelara—” She stopped herself, a blush creeping across her cheeks.
“Yes? Faelara and I have what?”
“Oh, shut it. You love each other, but are too stubborn to admit it.” At his shocked expression, she said, “Please. The entire court knows about the death of your wife and son. As tragic as that was, it happened ages ago. You loved Faelara before their deaths. There is no dishonor in owning up to it now. No one cares, Baehlon. Trust me. Just tell her you love her and be done with all the foolishness.”
“Is that a command, Your Highness?” Amusement and anger shaped his words.
“Does it need to be? You know I’ll do it, so don’t go there unless you’re ready to pay the fee, my friend.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Whatever. So, tell me where Iselt is and I’ll let you off the hook for now.” She wagged a finger close to his nose. “Only for now. I’ll expect some courting before summer’s end. Got it?”
“If you say so. As for Iselt, he’s on a pleasure ship, spying for us.”
Taryn doubled over with laughter, holding her sides. “Are you kidding me? Iselt? On a ship? How the bloody hell did Rhoane convince him to do that?”
“He told the man it would help you.”
She sobered immediately. “That was a lie. Rhoane used me to manipulate him?”
“Don’t look at it like that. Rhoane needed someone he could trust and since you have some sort of oath from the man, who better? Iselt isn’t known in Talaith, he can handle himself, and besides, his business was crap. He set himself up in one of the poorer districts amid the filth and death. It was a good opportunity for him. I believe Rhoane promised him a job at the palace upon his return.”
Her eyes narrowed as she thought of all the complications and implications of Iselt working at the palace, finally determining it didn’t matter. Either he would be a part of Darius’ life or he wouldn’t. It was up to Iselt, not her, to make that happen. “Do you think he
’s in any danger on the ship?”
“Less so than in the cesspool he was living in here.”
She didn’t like it, but Iselt was a grown man. He could’ve said no if he didn’t want to go. She snuggled into Baehlon, replacing his arm around her shoulders and stared out to sea, trying to pinpoint where the blacksmith might be.
Baehlon stayed with her, keeping silent company until the air became thick with moisture and lightning flashed in the sky. Reluctantly, Taryn rose, calling Kaida from the orchards where she’d been hunting.
“Rhoane will be back for your party. I know what is in his heart and whatever troubles him, isn’t because of you.”
She nodded mutely, not trusting herself to speak. Of course, what troubled Rhoane was because of her. She’d failed him too many times to count.
The heavy door closed behind them just as the clouds opened up, unleashing a torrent on the palace grounds. “That was good timing.” Baehlon released his hold on her shoulder and turned her to face him. “I pledged before the court to lay down my life for you, and I would without hesitation, but I can’t sit here and watch you mourn. For that is what you’re doing, whether you’re willing to admit it or not. Spend time with your sisters and friends. Go riding on Nikosana. Be the woman I met all those moonturns ago. She had fire. She wouldn’t mope around all day, worried about a man. She kicked arse and to be honest, I miss her.”
Taryn stared at him. Not only was that the longest speech she’d ever heard him give, it was full of truths she didn’t want to admit, let alone hear. “You dare?”
Baehlon’s laughter echoed through the crowded room. Many faces lifted, eyes narrowed, lips pursed, but it didn’t deter the knight. He continued chuckling up the wide staircase until they reached her floor. “Aye, lass,” he finally wheezed, “I do. You’re as bad as he was when he returned. Both of you need a good arse whipping, is what I think.” His face sobered and he took her chin between thick fingers. “Remember who you are, Taryn. Not the Eirielle, not the Darennsai. Who is Taryn ap Galendrin the woman? Remember her.”
The Temple of Sacrifice Page 34