The door swung in, spilling a stripe of yellow light across the dark corridor. This doorway was short and wide. Achan ducked inside after Shung, into small meeting room.
Sir Gavin and the other knights were seated in high-backed chairs around a long table that held two bright oil lamps, a tray filled with grapes, apples, and tarts, a sweating jug, and a stack of stone cups. A fireplace blazed in the corner.
A sudden bout of nerves seized Achan's gut at the sight of the empty chair at the head of the table. He poured himself a mug of water and approached the chair, knowing he needed to take charge. The knights continued to proclaim him Crown Prince and tell him what to do. Achan needed to step forward. Either he was the future king or he was not. It was time to decide, time to act.
He gripped the cham's claw at his neck and squeezed. He'd killed the bear. He could do this.
Achan pulled out his chair and settled into it. No one spoke to him. They continued their private conversations. Sir Gavin and Inko were arguing whether Esek still lived, and if so, whether he would try another attack. Sir Eagan and Sir Caleb were pouring over a scroll and a scrap of burgundy fabric. Kurtz held a stack of tarts in one hand and popped one into his mouth whole.
Shung stood beside the secret entrance as if someone might come bursting in at any moment and try to kill Achan.
Anything was possible in Achan's life, after all.
Clearly Achan needed to do something to take charge. Speak perhaps? A wave of heat crept up the back of his neck, yet the fire in the hearth seemed no bigger than before.
COMMIT TO ME WHATEVER YOU DO, AND YOUR PLANS WILL SUCCEED.
Achan smiled, relieved. Of course. Thank you for the direction, Arman.
He took one last gulp of water, scooted back his chair--which scraped loudly over the rough wooden floor--and stood. All eyes turned to him.
"Achan," Sir Caleb said. "We've received an acceptance for--"
"A moment, please, Sir Caleb," Achan said. "I feel we should first commit this meeting to Arman, so he may bless our endeavors."
Suddenly he had the knights' full attention. They watched Achan silently.
"Quite so, Your Majesty." Sir Caleb smiled and started to stand.
Achan held up his left hand. "Thank you, Sir Caleb, but...I'll do it."
Sir Caleb lowered himself back into his seat and stared at Achan, bushy blond eyebrows raised.
Achan bowed his head as he would before any great leader. "Arman, we come together this morning to discuss our plans to obey your call. You've set me apart as king, so I ask you to come, hear our plans, and speak, should you like to. We'll be listening for your voice in all we discuss. Thank you for Duchess Amal's support. She's everything I could have hoped for in a new comrade. So may it be as you say."
"So be it," the knights said.
Achan took a deep breath. "Now that you've all had your say, it's my turn. Here's what I plan to do. I'd like your opinions as to whether my choices be wise."
Achan fought to keep the tremor in his joints out of his voice. "First, I appoint Sir Gavin Lukos as commander over all the armies. Each duke or duchess loyal to me may suggest generals to Sir Gavin and me. Each general, once appointed, may determine his own captains and ranks as he sees fit. Yet Sir Gavin will be over them all to instruct and lead.
"Those in service to Prince Oren Hadar will return to him. I no longer fear for Gren's life. If Esek is still alive, he will soon be far too busy to harass my loved ones. Therefore Jax mi Katt, Sir Rigil Barak, and Bran Rennan will seek out their next order from Prince Oren. I'll ask my uncle to command the southern troops and Marad and that he and Sir Gavin be in constant communication with each other and me so that, in time, we can coordinate our efforts.
"I appoint Sir Caleb Agros, Sir Eagan Elk, and Inko son of Mopti as my royal advisors. Kurtz Chazir, you're a fighting man. My inclination is to put you to Sir Gavin, but what is your will?"
Eyes wide, Kurtz swallowed whatever bit of food he had in his mouth. "What are my choices, Pac--Your Highness?"
"I've given you three: service to Sir Gavin, Prince Oren, or myself. Unless you have a fourth idea?"
Kurtz frowned. "No, Your Highness. If it's all the same to you, I'd like to stay with Gavin, I would."
"Very well. I had thought to appoint Trajen Yorbride as my priest, though his children are so young and he has such a strong flock in Melas, I hate to filch their leader. Ideas?"
"I am sure Duchess Amal would have a suggestion," Sir Eagan said.
"Could you ask her?"
"I will."
"Good." He paused, waiting to see what the men had to say of his ideas so far. When no one spoke, he continued.
"War is upon us, gentlemen. Esek commands the New Kingsguard and several powerful duchies, including most of what lies in Darkness. He fields an army whose size and location we must determine. Sir Gavin, please see to this.
"The task before us, as I see it, is to unite all of Er'Rets under my rule, so that Arman's rule may extend through it and thus eradicate Darkness. Our first task must be to raise a bigger army than we have now. Then, once Sir Gavin's scouts have located Esek's army, we must make our way to Armonguard. It is the prize, I feel. One Esek would already possess if he hadn't been so obsessed with destroying me."
"A fine plan, Your Majesty," Sir Gavin said, beaming.
"Have you tried to see into Esek's mind?" Sir Eagan asked.
Achan had never even considered it and suddenly felt foolish. "I haven't. An excellent suggestion, Sir Eagan, thank you. I shall do so directly following our time here." Achan paused and took a quick drink. He expected someone to jump in and contribute, but the men simply stared. He set his cup down with a trembling hand.
"We need to determine the agenda of this New Council that Duchess Amal spoke of. We should also consider what other forces might come against us--apart from Esek. There are the black knights--led by the shadow sorcerer, Hadad, perhaps? We must discover this man's identity."
The sooner the better, for Achan hadn't told anyone about hearing Hadad's voice again since Barth.
"Jaelport also seems to have plans of their own. Lord Nathak. We now know he has a motive apart from Esek's. I cannot say whether Esek will join him or strike out on his own, or if he's dead. Add Lord Levy and Macoun Hadar to the list of opposition. Then there are the Poroo and Eben forces. They likely support one of the factions mentioned."
"Yes, but which is it being?" Inko asked.
"I'd guess Poroo fights alongside Barth, eh? And the Ebens have partnered with Jaelport," Kurtz said.
"We cannot guess," Sir Eagan said. "We must know."
"I've never been knowing an Eben to associate with a Jaelportian," Inko said.
"You think the Ebens are with Barth, then?" Kurtz asked.
"The Eben we were slaying was giving us Lord Falkson's name" Inko said. "But is Lord Falkson to be serving Esek or Hadad? And who is Jaelport to be serving?"
"I believe Jaelport serves Jaelport," Sir Caleb said.
Achan lowered himself into his chair. The men had gone off debating, but he'd said what he'd planned to. No one had disagreed. Did that mean they agreed? He shifted his sling arm and reached for a tart. He'd done enough for today. He'd taken the floor and made his appointments. It was a start.
"Lord Levy paid Eben mercenaries to keep Prince Oren's Marad from traveling into Mahanaim," Sir Caleb said.
"You're suggesting Lord Levy was sending the Ebens after us in Darkness?" Inko asked. "And not Lord Falkson?"
"If he had a business relationship with them already, maybe he paid them to get Achan back to Mahanaim. Maybe Lord Levy and Lord Falkson work for Hadad."
"According to Vrell, skilled archers aided the Poroo who attacked Esek's procession," Sir Eagan said. "Who may have wanted to kill Esek?"
Achan tensed at the mention of Sparrow. "Anyone who has met him."
The men laughed and continued their debate. Achan couldn't help but think of Sparrow. She had opened her mind to him
yesterday. Why? Did she want to speak? Did she wonder where he was? Was she nearby? And why open her mind only to close it again so quickly? What was the matter with her?
The men talked until the food tray was empty and their stomachs growled for lunch. Achan decided to conclude for today. Sir Caleb would work on recruiting new men. Sir Gavin would send out scouts. And Sir Eagan would speak with Duchess Amal about a suitable priest.
Anillo arrived to see whether they would like lunch brought in, but Sir Caleb jumped to his feet. "Your Highness, I almost forgot you've not yet heard our good news. Sir Eagan, please, you tell him."
Sir Eagan reached for the scroll wrapped around a swatch of burgundy satin. He turned his piercing blue eyes to Achan. "Duchess Amal has accepted our offer."
"Which offer?" Achan could hardly keep up with all the tasks to be done.
"Your offer to wed her eldest daughter, Lady Averella."
A chill ran over Achan's arms. "Oh."
Sir Eagan held up the scroll and passed it to Sir Caleb, who passed it to Sir Gavin, who handed it to Achan. Achan unrolled it, hands shaking, and set the fabric aside. He anchored the top of the scroll with his cup and held the bottom with his fingertips. The neat and curvy writing took him longer to read than he would have liked with everyone watching.
Your Royal Highness, Prince Gidon Hadar, otherwise known as Achan Cham,
It is with great honor that I received your request for my daughter's hand in marriage. I must confess she had long ago pledged her hand to another. Time and recent events have changed that matter, however, and I assure you her relationship with her previous suitor has desisted peaceably with no harm to her virtue.
I vouchsafe to you my eldest daughter and heir, Lady Averella Amal, to wed once Armonguard has passed into your hands. As a token of this agreement, I have enclosed a sleeve from one of Averella's gowns. I chose one of the colors of Carmine so that when you wear this token wherever you go, people will know of our alliance.
Though this wedding be delayed, I pray Arman give you patience to endure until the day you kiss your bride. Until then, allow me to think of you as my son.
Lady Nitsa Amal, Duchess of Carm
Achan leaned back and released the scroll. It sprang into a tight coil against his mug. Well, that settled it. A lightheaded spell gripped Achan. He hooked a finger around the cord at his neck. Farewell then, Vrell Sparrow.
The knights burst into laughter. Laughter!
Achan looked up, eyes wide, heat warming his face. "Does anyone know what she looks like?"
Another bout of laughter.
"She's a very comely young woman, Achan," Sir Gavin said.
"As pretty as her mother," Sir Eagan added.
Well, that was comforting. He reached one trembling hand for the silky burgundy fabric and lifted it up. It was, indeed, a woman's dress sleeve. Made of thick satin, the sleeve was narrow around the arm but tapered into a pointed bell at the end. A single golden cord ran down the sleeve's edge. The scent of rose water made him think of Sparrow.
He supposed all women liked rose water.
He stared at it for a long time, then found his voice. "I'm to wear this?"
The men sniggered. Achan dropped the sleeve, refilled his cup, and downed the water in one long gulp.
Sir Eagan came to his aid. The knight walked to Achan's side and snagged the sleeve from the table. "You have never seen a knight wear a lady's token at tournament?"
Achan nodded. "I've seen them tuck handkerchiefs into their helm or tie them 'round their arm."
"That is what you will do with this sleeve." Sir Eagan threaded the fabric behind Achan's right arm, around his sling.
"He's naturally left-handed," Sir Gavin said. "It should go on his sword arm."
"Is he?" Sir Eagan said. "I should have guessed."
He gently tugged the sleeve from Achan's sore arm and, within moments, had tied it around Achan's left bicep. It hung bright against his light blue tunic, tied snugly so it wouldn't fall, a constant reminder of yet another yoke on his life.
Again he thought of Sparrow.
He met Sir Eagan's eyes. The knight smiled. "You look as though we have asked you to walk the castle in naught but your skin. 'Tis not so bad, Your Highness." He stepped behind Achan and rubbed his shoulders. Head bent down, he spoke softly in Achan's left ear. "Now, you are not only a hero to this land, you are a hero to one woman, which will tug at the heartstrings of every woman in Er'Rets, who will beg their men to go out and support you. For people are easily caught up in a great love story and are often eager to do their part in making it succeed."
And if the groom wasn't eager to be caught up in his own great love story, what of that?
Achan stood and handed the scroll to Sir Eagan. "Let us go eat, then, and tug at some heartstrings."
* * *
"How dare you!"
"I gave you opportunity to give me good reason."
Hot rage flashed through Vrell's body. "A day? One day? Mother! How could you do this to me? You have no right."
"I have every right. Averella, I have coddled you far too long. Not only can I see you love that boy, I know he cares for you a great deal. He respects you, dearest, enough to sacrifice his honor for a girl he thinks is a stray. I understand you are embarrassed, but I am convinced this is Arman's will. It is also the best possible match for uniting the people of this duchy and Er'Rets. It is far better than an arranged marriage, this--"
"--is an arranged marriage. Mother, you promised."
"Promised what?"
"That I could choose whom I would marry."
"No. I promised to consider your own choice for a husband. And I did consider allowing you to marry Master Rennan. But now that you both have relinquished your desires, and now that the perfect offer has come along, one from a good man, a man you love and who loves you--and happens to be our future king--so that you are marrying and choosing whom to marry, because you are too stubborn to admit your love, I am taking charge."
Vrell steeled her emotions. "I will not do it."
"You will leave your king standing at the altar? The man you love? You will disgrace him publicly in front of the whole kingdom? He already wears your sleeve. Averella, stop ranting about and act your age."
"My age?" Vrell could not stand it. She had been home less than a week and felt more trapped and suffocated than she ever had inside that disguise. She dug deep into a place she did not want to go, to concerns and questions she did not want answers to. "This is a nonissue if I am not your heir."
"Do not be absurd, dearest. You are the eldest. You are my heir."
"But if I am not the daughter of Duke Amal, I am not heir to Carm." She paused, watching her mother's porcelain skin pink, her sculpted eyebrows crumple.
"I do not understand you, Averella. What are you hedging about?"
Vrell stood tall. "I do not think Duke Amal is my father. My heart tells me you have deceived me in this matter. My heart tells me Sir Eagan Barak is my father. Do you deny it?"
Mother lowered herself to the sofa, put a hand to her cheek, and released a shaky breath. "What in all Er'Rets led you to believe such a thing?"
"Besides the fact that he and I have the same face?"
Mother stared at Vrell a moment then clutched her ashen face in her hands. Jagged sobs erupted from her, bringing tears to Vrell's eyes as well.
"I knew it." Vrell started to cry. "Mother, how could you allow yourself to...?"
A silence passed where both women wept. Mother caught hold of her composure first.
"I did not want to marry Duke Amal. My heart was broken and I was weak. I felt Arman had abandoned me. In my sorrow I turned from Arman and clung to the one my heart loved. And it only made me love Eagan more, which made everything harder. But I obeyed my father and married the duke. Months passed before I discovered I was with child. I had no way of knowing who..."
Mother shook off her tears and lifted her chin. "But when you were older it was plain to my eyes.
And when Eagan saw you, he knew at once. He promised not to claim you. He promised he would let me live in peace. But I could not. I had planned to tell the duke the truth, but King Axel died and Eagan went to Ice Island. I lost all hope and figured the truth would do no good then."
"And now?" Vrell sniffled. "Sir Eagan still does not wish to claim me?"
"He begged I tell you the truth but promised not to publicly claim you, not to upset your life."
"Whether all Er'Rets knows or not, my life is already upset. Mother, how can I live as I have? How can I pretend to be your heir? It is a lie."
"No," Mother said. "You are my eldest. I choose my heir."
"That is not how it is done. Carm should go to the Amal bloodline."
"No one need know."
"But I know." Vrell wandered to Mother's desk, trembling with a myriad of emotions. "I cannot live a lie any longer. It is all I have done these past months, and it has nearly destroyed my sanity. I will not be a fraud. I abandon my birthright to Gypsum. Let her accept this proposal."
"Averella!"
Vrell darted behind Mother's changing screen, behind the tapestry, and into the dark corridor.
Up, up, up the steps she ran, to the top of Ryson Tower. She hugged one of the stone posts that held the tower roof and gazed out over the vineyards that stretched to the horizon on all sides of Carmine. The sun hid behind a fluffy white cloud. A cool breeze blew against her face and tightened her skin as it dried her tears.
For so long she had ached for home. But now that she was here, it no longer felt like a home. Where did she belong? Queen of Er'Rets? Heir to Carm? An illegitimate daughter did not deserve either. She could stay here and serve Gypsum, ready her for her calling as duchess. But if Vrell refused to marry Achan, did that mean Gypsum would have to?
Vrell wept. She could not bear to witness such a thing.
She stared at the signet ring in her palm. The ruby stone shone in the sun. Achan had agreed to marry a stranger. It might not have been his plan, but he had not fought it. Barely a week had passed since his declarations in Mitspah. He had given her up much more easily that even she expected. Was it because he was respectful of her choice to be apart from him or because he did not care?
To Darkness Fled--Kindle Page 52