"I'm sorry!" He groaned to his feet, drew back a step. "I didn't mean those thoughts. They were for me alone. Just me. Just... thinking. W-We don't have to be together. No one even has to know you're a woman. Or you could be the prince's chosen sister. Wise female advisor. We could--"
"Achan, such a thing could not be done. It would be scandalous."
"I don't care. We could be the pair who changed their stations in life. W-We'll vow to abolish strays from all Er'Rets. Grant peasant rights to everyone." He stared at the floor. All was still, the crackling fireplace the only sound. "And if you grew to love me..."
She wished he would let go of his scheming. It took all her effort not to look at him, his eyes, his lips. Her throat burned. "Achan, I became a man to avoid marriage."
"To someone horrible. I'm not so bad, right?" He grinned, but it did not reach his eyes. "And I love you. So it won't be like marrying a man thrice your elder or one who only means to use you."
"It would be worse."
Achan pulled back farther as if she had slapped him. "You don't care, even a little?"
"Your own thoughts betrayed you, Achan. You must marry a noblewoman." And he would never know her real name. She decided that then and there. She should never have let down her guard. He could not be trusted.
Pain flashed through his pale eyes.
How could she make him understand? "For you, it can never be about love. A king is not free to love. Too many things distract. His realm must always come first."
"But a king can do what he wants."
"You sound like Esek, demanding your way."
He huffed, eyebrows sinking over his eyes. "I'll not lose you."
"You do not have me to lose."
"Tell me you don't love me."
Vrell had no idea where she got the courage to answer so calmly. "I do not love you. And I do not see how you can honestly love me. You have known I am a woman three days."
Achan set his jaw. Pouting.
She swallowed her threatening tears. "Achan, what you call love is your craving for love. And I do love you like a brother. But I will not be a convenience to any man's fears of loneliness. Let me go. Learn to be king. Take a real queen. Serve Arman and your kingdom. That is your purpose."
"A purpose I'll serve better with you at my side."
"It cannot be. Despite all the obvious reasons why we could not be together, I will not be a crutch for you to hide from Arman. He seeks your full heart, and you must face him."
"You kissed me back."
She glanced down at her hands, squeezed them, and forced cold words past her swollen throat. "It was a mistake."
His jaw jutted out and his gaze seemed to burn into her. "I don't believe you."
"Believe what you must. I apologize if I misled you."
Achan's eyes glazed. He seemed to shrink. He limped toward the door, turned back, ran a hand over his head, and shuddered a sigh. "Forgive me, I--" Still limping, he fled from the room, the door swinging in his wake.
Vrell eased back down to her back and rolled on her side, finally allowing the tears to come.
* * *
Iron gauntlets squeezed Achan's chest. He limp-skipped out of the inner gate and across the lawn to the edge of the pool side of the moat, seeking a tree to destroy. A small cluster of pine trees stood between the curtain wall and the curve of the pool. His right arm hung slack at his side. At least the injury wouldn't hinder him as much, being left-handed.
He squeezed Owr's suede-wrapped grip in his left hand. A thin pine tree at the edge of the moat stream volunteered its service. Achan hacked into it. Owr, sharper than Eagan's Elk, peeled back a long swatch of bark, baring the white inner wood.
An image of Gren sitting under the allown tree flooded his mind, the day she'd watched him attack the wilted poplar with his waster. A great fury rose in his chest, and he sliced into the tree again and again, wanting to hurt it, wanting to make it look the way he felt. Broken, useless, vile, unlovable.
His blade cleaved deep into the trunk, and he screamed in frustration as he ripped it free. A sudden calm oozed over his fury. His arm fell to his side. Owr's tip swished through the grass. He stepped back, blinked at the mutilated tree, and recoiled.
"If it is firewood you seek, there are better ways."
Achan spun around to face Sir Eagan. Now he understood his sudden calm. He scowled, knowing Sir Eagan had used his bloodvoicing trick to pacify Achan's emotions. "Withdraw from my mind or I'll force you out."
Sir Eagan tipped his head to one side and smiled. "Only if you promise to let the tree go."
Achan choked up a knot of phlegm and spit it out. "This tree is helping me cope with my latest prison."
"It is not the tree that concerns me, Your Highness, but my sword. You shall dull the blade using it as an axe. I am certain we could find you an axe if you must chop, though I do not recommend such physical labor with your wounds."
"This isn't your sword. It's Owr. I took it from Esek after I cut off his arm. You may have Eagan's Elk back."
"Rhomphaia."
"Whatever." Achan lifted Owr in front of him and studied the gleaming crossguard. It was so beautiful, but had caused so much pain. Would it continue to kill at his direction? He tossed it onto the grass. A sudden ache seized his right shoulder and his body tensed against the pain. Gloom hung heavy on his body, like clothing drenched from rain.
Sir Eagan must have withdrawn his calming thoughts. Achan lowered himself to the wet grass, groaning, and leaned back on the mutilated tree. Spray from the waterfall misted him and he welcomed the coolness.
Sir Eagan slid is boot a step closer over the slick grass. "Care to talk about it?"
Achan's lips parted. "There's nothing to say."
"Maybe not. But confession is often like steam from a kettle. Without a place to release, it will explode."
Achan gestured at the tree. "That's why I chop."
"Are you certain I cannot help?"
Achan shook his head. "You wouldn't understand."
"No?" Sir Eagan sighed. "In your infinite wisdom of--what is it, fifteen years?"
"Sixteen."
"Beg your pardon, sixteen years. By your aged wisdom, you must have a detailed account of my life, is that correct, Your Highness?"
"No."
"Then do not assume you know me. I loved a woman in my youth. We were younger than you when we met. Known each other since our births, really, but it was not until I moved to Tsaftown to squire for Lord Livna that she captured my heart. Lady Nitsa Livna. Some know her today as--"
"The Duchess of Carm," Achan said. "I know. Sir Caleb told me."
"Aye. Then she was merely a lesser noblewoman from Tsaftown, and I was a lesser nobleman from Zerah Rock. I knew the gods had blessed me. We were perfect for each other. I spent the summer courting her with all my efforts. It worked quite well. She professed her love for me daily, and I her."
"But her father refused?"
"Her father did not care either way, until Duke Amal saw her at a banquet that fall. He saw her and wanted her. He was older, richer, and Duke of Carm. Nitsa's father gave his blessing that night. That night, my boy. Amal did not love her. He had never even spoken to her. But he snagged her from me and there was nothing I could do. I begged her to run away, of course, but she would not desert her family. They were married a month later.
"My father expected me to go on like nothing had changed. 'Pick another girl,' he told me over and over. But I did not want another girl. And I refused to go to court and pretend I did not see Nitsa by his side...then Averella."
"Averella? That's the lady Esek wishes to marry."
Sir Eagan met Achan's eyes. "What do you know of that story, for I have heard little?"
"Oh, I know little, as well. Esek wanted to marry her to gain control of Carm. So she went into hiding. She's betrothed to a friend of mine. Bran Rennan is your brother's squire."
"He is a nobleman?"
"The cousin of one, I think. Yet I
fear Bran's feelings have changed." Achan frowned at the thought of Bran and Gren but forced himself to stay on topic. The conversation distracted his pain. "Both Esek and Lord Nathak have been trying to take Carm by marriage. Esek to the lady Averella and Lord Nathak to the duchess. He's been asking for her hand for the past few years. Before Duke Amal was in the ground, they say."
"Duke Amal is dead?" Eagan gripped Achan's wounded arm. "Are you certain?"
Achan cried out. "Careful!"
Sir Eagan released Achan's arm. "Forgive me. I forgot."
Achan cradled his arm until the throb lessened. "The duke died three or four years back. From a fever, I think."
Eagan exhaled. "Perhaps there is still hope."
"For what?"
"That after all this time, almost eighteen years...that Arman might reunite me with my family. This old man might find love yet."
Achan studied Sir Eagan's wistful expression. "Then you do understand."
"I do, my boy."
"But I've loved two women and both denied me."
"Two women and only sixteen years of age? My, you are wise to protect your heart so."
"You mock me?"
"I seek only to lighten your melancholy. You are a prince. You cannot marry just anyone, nor should you pledge your heart or body to anyone until you do marry. And frankly, Your Highness, I do not recommend taking multiple wives and mistresses. It is not how Arman designed it. I know kings have different views on such things, but--"
"I would never." Sparrow's horror had been enough to strike that idea from his mind. What might Gren say about such a thing? Would she agree with Sparrow?
Sir Eagan patted Achan's shoulder. "An admirable declaration now, but when the desire comes into your heart and you have the power to have anything you want... Temptation is a cruel thing. I urge you to understand: love is much more than what you feel. That, Your Highness, is the desire of a man for a woman. You would be wise to discern the difference before those feelings best you."
"Then what is love?"
"For you to love Vrell? Love is sacrifice, letting her go because it is her choice and the right thing to do."
But Achan had done that for Gren. He had arranged her marriage to Riga to keep her safe from Esek. And what good had come of it? Riga was dead. Gren with child. And Achan was still alone. "How can you say your sacrifice was right when your lady didn't wish to marry the duke?"
"Because I have lived through my pain to see the other side. Duty calls men and women to all kinds of sacrifice. But when the lusts of our hearts blinds us, we sacrifice goodness to get what we want. In anger I turned away from my birthright, I gave it up to wallow in my pity of losing Nitsa. Now I discover my father's second son has pledged his service to you. So who will rule Zerah Rock when my father dies? He has no other heir. Some minor noble will likely take the stronghold. Maybe he will be true to the Barak heritage, maybe he will not.
"And Zerah Rock is but a small city in a distant corner of your kingdom." Sir Eagan poked Achan lightly in the chest. "It means little in the scheme of things. But consequences are often more far-reaching than any man realizes. Should you forsake your birthright to chase after the love of your heart, what will become of Er'Rets? Who will rule in your stead? Esek? Lord Nathak? Who will protect your people? Each faction will attack the other. They will take the land in small bites until all is devoured by Darkness. Innocent men, women, and children will die."
Achan stared at Owr, partially hidden by the short grass.
Sir Eagan went on. "Whether you like it or not, Arman has chosen you. This is the highest calling a man can receive. So ask yourself, my prince, what price is the love of your heart worth? The death of your father and mother? Lord Livna? Fifteen men in battle yesterday? How many would you allow to die for nothing so you and the love of your heart can be together? You may not like the meal you have been served, but will you at least show yourself worthy of it? Many have given their lives to see you to this place. Would you forsake their sacrifice for your own?"
"Why can't I have both?"
"You will, someday, find what you seek. Arman will give you the desire of your heart when his timing is right."
Achan searched his memory for his least-favorable match on Sir Caleb's list. "Lady Halona of Nesos? She's twelve."
"She will grow. Girls do, you know, grow into women."
"But she's not my choice."
"No. And for that, I am sorry, and I do understand. You need only say the word 'sacrifice' to me and I shall spirit you and Owr away to the nearest forest and you shall attack whatever trees you see fit, if that will help you with the pain. But I assure you, my prince, from a man who understands your pain, destroying trees will not help. Only Arman can."
* * *
Achan lay in bed that night staring at the low tinder ceiling and listening to the waterfall pound on the roof like rain, the perfect cadence for his mood. Sir Eagan's words rang true in his heart.
But how could he let Sparrow walk away? What if he never saw her again? He couldn't lose another friend. He didn't have many, considering the scores of people who now surrounded him on a daily basis.
Shung. He did have Shung.
He'd go to Sparrow tomorrow and beg her forgiveness. He'd do his duty and let her go, but not before finding out where she lived. If she'd fled from a horrible place, it might not be safe for her to go back. Perhaps he could find her a better place to live.
A place where he could visit from time to time.
He'd revoke the declarations of his heart, even if that was a lie and against his nature. But he would not give up his friend.
Part 5
Partings
39
Achan thrashed through the night, his right arm sore, his mind active with memories of Esek, the cham, and Sparrow.
The next morning, he and Shung found the great hall crowded for breakfast. The high table, however, was empty. Achan limped up the steps to the high table, ignoring the stares of those eating below. He and Shung must look half dead. Both had arms in slings, Achan's from the cham's teeth. Shung's from the cham's fire.
Shung stood against the wall behind Achan's chair, refusing to sit. Achan picked at his food, pondering what words might convince Sparrow to remain friends. He couldn't let anything inappropriate sneak into his confession and scare her away.
Sir Gavin and Sir Caleb approached the high table. Sir Gavin sat to Achan's left. Sir Caleb stepped over the bench on Achan's other side.
"Your Highness, did you really accost that poor girl? Kurtz won't stop talking about it." Sir Caleb pulled his other leg over the bench and reached for the pitcher of water.
"It was but one kiss." Achan straightened. "Two, actually. No doubt Kurtz has stretched whatever he saw."
Sir Caleb humphed and bowed his head.
Achan waited for Sir Caleb to finish his thanks. "I do hope someone has informed Kurtz that Sparrow is a woman. I hate to think what the man might be thinking otherwise."
Sir Caleb raised an eyebrow. "Kurtz is so informed."
Achan picked up a slice of bread and tapped the crust on the tabletop, feeling the need to explain further. "I liked Sparrow the boy a great deal. When I discovered the little fox was a woman...it stabbed. She lied to me. But even as a woman, Sparrow was Sparrow. I couldn't help but think how perfect everything would be if she and I could..." He drew in a heavy sigh. "I know, I know. I'm the biggest fool in Er'Rets."
"Not the biggest." Sir Gavin sipped from his mug. "I'm sure if I searched very hard I could find a bigger one."
"Trust you to be honest. I only felt...when she said she might be leaving..." Achan stirred his porridge, groping for the right words. "I don't want to lose her friendship."
Sir Gavin inhaled over his mug of tea. "She will always be your friend, lad."
Achan hoped that was true. He'd sensed deception in her when she'd claimed she didn't love him. Why would she lie? Did she think him insincere? He wished he hadn't thought about the mistress t
hing. That had been daft.
Sir Caleb propped his elbow on the table and stared at Achan. "What's the point for you, Your Highness? Of all this. Raising an army. Fighting Esek?"
"Arman called me to be king. You said it has to be me."
"Go back further. Before you heard Arman. What did you live for?"
"Not much. The hope of Gren, I suppose. Though I always knew her father would never allow it."
"So you lived every day, hoping for what you couldn't have. And when it was lost, what did you live for then?"
What could be the point of such questions? Didn't Sir Caleb already know all this? "To keep Gren safe. Esek threatened to harm her if I tried to leave his service."
"You sacrificed your freedom for her safety. That gave your life purpose. Every man must life for something, Your Highness. Serve a matchless cause beyond himself. Many live for the goal of riches, some for the love of a good woman, others for the affections of many. Some men live for their children or for the number of enemy soldiers they've killed in battle."
Sir Caleb paused to take a sip from his goblet. "Having lived longer than you, I'll tell you what I've learned. Though these causes are worthwhile and good, none will bring true, lasting satisfaction." Sir Caleb glanced at Sir Gavin.
The Great Whitewolf turned his mismatched eyes to Achan. "Only one cause has spurred my life, and it's the only one that follows a man into the Veil. I know Caleb serves the same cause."
Achan turned back to Sir Caleb. "Live for Arman, Your Highness. Serve him. He created you for a purpose. He's proud of who you are. He deserves your respect, your sacrifice, your service. Only he can bring you satisfaction and meaning in this life. No woman can do that--even if your every hope were granted. Live for Arman alone, and he'll give you the desires of your heart."
Achan tried to comprehend the idea of loving Arman more than anyone. Sparrow seemed to think he didn't follow Arman at all. "But he seems so far away. Like that temple." Achan pointed to the ceiling, toward the temple above the stronghold he still hadn't found time to visit.
To Darkness Fled--Kindle Page 47