“What does autumn smell like?”
“Apples and squash. Dry leaves. Rain.”
He laughed.
“What’s funny?”
“I think you’ll be tired of smelling rain by the time this journey is done.”
They walked in silence for some time. “Can I call you Connor?”
“Most people do.”
“How did you come by this task?”
“Sayana Muriel asked the Brae Sidh queen to find someone who could escort you to a safe place. Queen Maeve chose me.”
Then Muriel believed in the Sidh all along. Why would she lie to me? “Did she choose you for your magic?”
He scoffed. “No. I’m only half Sidh. I don’t have much magic.”
“But there was that palmlight.”
“All Sidh can do that. It’s just a trick.”
“What about in the tunnel? I saw something.”
He turned to her. “What did you see?”
“It looked like a braid of violet threads. And then I saw blue and green ones when we were in the boat.”
He frowned. “You shouldn’t be able to see the braids unless you have Sidh blood.”
“There are stories that say Queen Brenna was part Sidh. Perhaps they are true.”
“It would have to be very thin by now.”
Mairead shifted her feet, nervous under his piercing stare. Does he think he can see the Sidh blood if he looks hard enough? “Why ask you to do this if you aren’t strong in the Sidh magic?”
He started walking again. “I was trained by tribesmen and I’m good with a sword, and I know how to get through the Wilds of Culidar.” He paused. “Muriel said certain things were kept from you.”
Heat crept up her neck. A naughty child caught in a lie—that’s all I am. “She tried, but I read a lot of books.”
He snickered. “So my charge isn’t as innocent as everyone thinks she is.”
She focused on the trail ahead and adjusted the straps of the pack on her shoulders. “I’m descended from the line of Queen Brenna. I have a responsibility to be educated about my ancestry.”
“But you thought the Brae Sidh were a myth.”
“I know the stories, but I don’t know what’s true and what’s not. I asked the sayana about the Sidh after I read the First Book of the Wisdomkeepers. She said they were a myth.” She paused. “The kirok would have us believe that there is no magic in the world.”
“It has always confused me how the kirok could refute the magic when Alshada is the one responsible for it.”
“Do you believe in Alshada?”
He hesitated. “I believe he exists, but we parted ways several years ago. And I don’t believe in the kirok.”
His tone suggested she should leave that line of questions aside. “Do you know why Sayana Muriel waited so long to send me away from Taura?”
“Two reasons. The first was Braedan. He was wilier than anyone thought. When Fergus banished him six years ago, everyone said it was because he was a drunken whoreson. It turns out he was slowly infiltrating his own father’s ranks all this time with men loyal to him. It was only recently that someone loyal to the Sidh queen was able to get a message to her.”
“And the second reason?”
“Me. I was delayed in reaching Taura. I was escorting a merchant train and didn’t arrive until yesterday morning.”
Mairead frowned. “Do you think Fergus knew I was there?”
Connor walked for several paces before he responded. “I don’t know. Did the sayas ever talk to you about taking the throne?”
“Only in vague terms. They said I was the first person in a thousand years who met the requirements.”
“Why keep you in Taura? Why not send you away years ago? You’d have been safer.”
Mairead bit her lip. “I asked Sayana Muriel once. She said she wanted me to know the country I would lead. She wanted me to be Taurin in more than just blood.” She shrugged. “Everyone believes the rightful line died out when Brenna and Aiden died. No one ever found their son. There was no reason to think I’d be in danger as long as the sayas kept the secret.”
“But somehow, Braedan found out you were there.”
Her stomach twisted. All those women—dead or hurt or scattered because of me. “Somehow,” she whispered. Did a saya betray me?
The breeze picked up. Though the morning had dawned clear, dark clouds now obscured the channel and encroached along the coastline. Connor raised his face to the sky. “This is going to be an ugly storm. I guess you’ll be walking in the rain.”
“I don’t mind.” But when the torrent began, she pulled her cloak around her and wished for a warm cup of tea. The mud crept up their boots and the bottoms of their cloaks. Connor’s stride was long and quick. The ground in the meadow quickly grew soft and muddy, and when she tried to keep up with him, she slipped and fell.
He held out his hand and helped her up. “Are you all right?”
Her hips hurt from the shock of the fall, and water seeped into her boots. Her toes and fingers ached with the damp cold. Her nose dripped, and she wiped it on her sleeve. “Fine. I’m fine.”
His gaze softened. He pointed toward a copse of trees. “My feet are soaked. Let’s dry off and wait for it to pass.”
He slowed his stride so that she could keep up. The canopy of firs brought instant relief from the storm. Connor sat on a bed of dry needles under a fir tree. He pulled his boots and stockings off and wrung them out.
Mairead forced her boots off. “Not the best time of year to travel, is it?”
He spread his stockings out on the fir needles. “I don’t mind it. I like being out of doors.”
“Where are you taking me, anyway?”
“Sveklant.”
She shuddered. “Sveklant? Why?”
“Apparently there are people waiting for you in a town called Albard.”
“Do you know anything about them?”
“No.”
So I’m to be shuffled off to some pagan land to live with people I don’t know who could be enemies just as easily as friends. How will I know who to trust? She rubbed the feeling back into her feet. “Have you ever been to Sveklant?”
“A couple of times. It’s not my favorite place.”
“Because it’s so pagan?”
He laughed. “No, because of all the snow. I’d rather be somewhere warm.”
“But you said you don’t get cold.”
“I still prefer the sun.” He leaned back against the tree. “How do you know Sveklant is so pagan if you’ve never been there?”
“Sayana Muriel always told us to pray for the kirok in Sveklant, that the kirons might build kiroks and win followers to Alshada. She said kirons have died for defying the old pagan gods.”
“Perhaps you filled your reading with too much kirok history. Sveklant was one of the Western Lands once—Taura, Culidar, and Sveklant were one united kingdom before the breaking. When the Svek went to war with Taura centuries later, they sought only to reunite the kingdom.”
“The Svek destroyed northern Taura,” she answered. “The displaced northerners drained the south of food and resources. It took decades for the northern territories to recover and rebuild. Are you saying there is some kind of justification for that kind of destruction?”
“You sound like a kirok tutor,” he said. “The Svek had a prophecy that a man would arise to reunite the Western Lands. They had a king who thought he had a divine right to conquer Taura and Culidar. The kirok supported him. Didn’t your books cover that bit?”
She bristled. “The kirok can’t be responsible for one man’s prideful actions.”
“No, but it is responsible for its own response to those actions. Don’t worry, though—the Svek suffered, too. Their monarchy dissolved. There aren’t even any nobles left in Sveklant—just farmers, traders, and hunters.”
“Are there any who follow Alshada?”
“There are pockets—small kiroks, family groups, towns
that worship him in ways similar to the kirok in Aliom. Some follow the old earth gods. Some say they are waiting for a champion to unite their land under a single standard once again.”
She sighed.
“Afraid you’re a little less prepared than you thought you’d be?”
Yes. “No. It’s just a lot to think about.”
“I won’t leave you with anyone who will expect you to drink pig’s blood.”
She laughed when she saw his grin. “You have a wicked side.”
“I’ll not deny that.” He reached for his pack.
“Why take me so far away? Couldn’t you take me somewhere closer?”
He laughed. “I asked the Sidh queen that same question. I tried to convince her to let me take you to Eirya, but she wouldn’t. It seems you have to be at the edge of civilization to satisfy some obscure prophecy.” He opened his pack and offered her some hard tack and jerky. “How much do you know about the magic and the prophecies about the rightful royal line?”
She nibbled on the hard tack. “I read the First Book of the Wisdomkeepers. I know the stories about how the Syraf Namha rebelled against Alshada and caused the rending of the Western Lands. I’ve read how the Sidh were split into two groups and how the Syrafi who followed Namha were cursed to be Ferimin. And I know about the Forbidden.” She shuddered. Half Syrafi, half human, the Forbidden fed on human transgressions and devoured souls to strengthen themselves. The darker a person’s soul, the more it strengthened the Forbidden. She took the skin of water he offered and drank. “The sayana said the stories were myths and legends of a pagan people.”
Connor snorted a laugh and pointed at the scar on his chin. “I got this from one of those myths when I was escorting a train of livestock through Nar Sidhe territory. Nar Sidhe bastard attacked at night when he thought we were asleep.”
Mairead shivered. “Then it’s all true?”
“All of it.”
“Even the Forbidden?”
A haunted look passed over Connor’s face. “I don’t know.”
“But you believe the rest of it.”
His mouth tightened. “I do.” He took the waterskin from her and drank. “Do you know about the reliquary?”
“Yes. Some.”
“Some? That could mean a lot of different things.”
“I’ve read about the relics, and I overheard the sayas talk about it once.” Mairead swallowed. “Is it as powerful as legends say?”
“In the wrong hands, it can channel powerful earth magic that would trigger earthquakes, volcanoes, tidal waves, and floods. In the hands of a benevolent god, it could heal the earth and wipe evil away for eternity.” He paused. “Or at least, that’s what legends say. Queen Brenna was the last rightful queen of Taura. You are, presumably, the only living person with her blood. You are a threat to the safety of the reliquary by your existence. Unless you are the one meant to carry it. Are you?”
“I don’t think so.” She remembered what she’d read years before. During the war, the Brae Sidh, Syrafi, and tribes fought the Nar Sidhe, Ferimin, and Forbidden. When the Sidh queen died, her people saved the stone from her crown, and when the Syrafi chieftain died, his people saved his tears in a jar. Cuhail, the tribal chieftain, died during the final battle. His own blood mingled with the earth of Taura on his sword. When the sword was recovered, it was placed in a box with the queen’s stone and the Syrafi tears. The relics were rumored to be stored somewhere on Taura and protected by the Sidh. Only a human with the blood of the rightful ruling line could touch them. Or so the stories say. This is so much to believe. Mairead put her food aside. “You say it’s safe?”
“For now. The Sidh queen keeps it hidden, and she would rather be flayed alive than give it to anyone but the one in the prophecies. But the Sidh village is only hidden as long as there is peace—or at least political stability—on Taura. With Braedan bringing chaos to the Taurin government and the Sidh and the tribes still at odds, the protections around the Sidh village weaken every day. If the village is visible and the Sidh are unprotected, anyone can find them and try to force Queen Maeve to reveal the reliquary.”
“But someone would need me to carry it, you said. I would never do that.”
“Are you sure?”
She couldn’t answer.
“Be careful, saya. Namha is beguiling.”
She drew her knees close to her chin. “I don’t like this conversation.”
“Too real?”
“Perhaps. Tell me about you. Did you grow up with the Brae Sidh?”
“I spent much of my childhood with the Sidh, but my father lived in the town of Kiern.”
Mairead’s stomach lurched. “Did you have family there when . . . when they came?”
Connor nodded. “My sisters and my father died that day.”
“What have you done since then?”
He shrugged. “Hunted. Wandered. I’ve traveled through Culidar, through Sveklant, to Tal’Amun and the Aldorean Seas. I’ve escorted nobles or merchants who need a ready man-at-arms, and I’ve fought in a few battles.”
“Your mother is Brae Sidh?”
“Yes. My parents knew each other for many years before my father’s wife died. When my father was widowed, my parents confessed their affection for each other. I was the result.” He paused and drank from his waterskin. “What about your parents? I know one of them must have been the Taurin heir.”
She nodded. “I don’t know which one, though. My father worked as a butcher in the town of Endar. My mother worked as a seamstress, but she died of a fever when I was four. My father left me at the sayada. He never visited me. I think he must have died.”
“How do you know you’re the Taurin heir?”
“I was anointed. Sayana Muriel took me to Macha Tor when I first came to the sayada. I have this vague memory of a man in white robes walking up the other side of the tor. He took some kind of oil from a bottle and rubbed it on my forehead.” She smiled. “I remember it smelled sweet—like a flower.”
Connor leaned back against the tree. “And the sayas taught you everything about the kirok, but nothing about magic? Did it ever occur to them to ask the Sidh or the tribes or someone else for help? Or to have the kirok give you an army and help you take back your throne?”
Mairead’s spine stiffened. “The Order of Sai Atena is devoted to caring for the poor, not to building armies. Those women would never—”
He held up his hands. “Calm yourself, saya. I’m only asking. I don’t care what happens to Taura—I don’t live there, and I have no allegiance to the throne. It just seems to me that they raised a saya, not a queen. I’m curious what they thought you would do.”
She bit her lip. “I think they only wanted me to marry and have children. I doubt they expected all of this to happen.”
“And who would you have wed? Some farmer or merchant or shepherd?” He snickered. “What a fine royal bloodline that would be.”
She turned away so he wouldn’t see the heat rising in her face. “I think they had hoped to wed me to Braedan, at one point. I do remember being introduced to several noble sons. I think Muriel hoped one of them would take an interest in me and she could arrange a marriage and then tell him who I was.”
“So your whole life revolves around having the right blood and passing it on,” he said. “There was never any intention of putting you on the throne—no real intention, anyway.”
She picked at a loose thread on her breeches. “No,” she whispered. “I suppose not.”
“You have no family left on Taura?”
“The sayas were my family.” The pang of loss hit her again. Her eyes watered. “I suppose if the sayada is gone, I have no other family.” Tears spilled over accompanied by hesitant sobs. “I’m sorry. I know I should be strong—it’s my duty to be strong—but they were all I had.”
Connor’s voice softened. “You’re not betraying your duty to grieve a great loss, saya. I know what it is to lose family.” He pulled another kerchief fr
om his pack and handed it to her.
She held the kerchief over her face. I’m alone. I don’t know what I’m doing. Everything I knew could be wrong, and all I’m prepared to do is care for the poor and become a wife and mother. She curled into a ball against the tree and sobbed as the storm raged overhead.
Chapter Six
In the days before the rending, human and Syrafi mated.
But their children had too much power, so Alshada banished them from the world of men.
They are the Forbidden. When they rise again, they will deliver us to our glory.
— Nar Sidhe legend
When the sun broke through the clouds, Connor reached for his boots. “We should keep going.” The sooner I get you to Sveklant, the sooner I can be rid of this binding.
Mairead wiped puffy eyes and gave him a wan smile. She choked out a rueful laugh. “I fear I’m using all of your clean kerchiefs.”
He put the kerchief in a pocket. “They can all be washed. Feel better?”
She nodded. “It’s just hard.”
His heart softened as he realized how much he’d expected of her. She can’t be more than twenty. Raised in a sayada, eating easy foods, only the exercise of caring for her sayas and the poor, and now, everything she had taken from her, sent with a stranger on a journey across foreign lands. It’s amazing she hasn’t been sobbing this entire time. He looked toward the northeast. Damn it. I wanted to go around. But when he saw the saya’s rain-soaked clothing and pale, tear-streaked face, his resolve melted. “There’s a village up ahead where I used to know some people. If they’re still there, we can spend the night with them and get some supplies.”
She sniffed. “Are you sure? We don’t have to stop. I can keep going.”
The weariness in her voice suggested otherwise. “We need horses, anyway. May as well get them now.”
They put on their boots and packs and started walking. Other than an occasional sniffle, Mairead made little noise as they walked. He tried to slow his gait to allow her to keep up. She’s not prepared for this journey at all.
Mairead’s pace started to slow in the afternoon, and he turned to her. “Hungry?” he asked.
Ravenmarked (The Taurin Chronicles) Page 7