The Stones of Kaldaar (Song of the Swords Book 1)

by Tameri Etherton

“You win! I won’t steal my maids.”

  Hayden set off to find Sabina while Taryn checked on Kaida. On impulse, she went to the kitchens to see whether Carga needed anything.

  After making an extensive list, Carga decided to join them, instead. The youth Taryn had met once, but often saw in the kitchen when she breakfasted with Carga, trailed them to the courtyard.

  “We have a stowaway.” Taryn glanced back to where Gris leaned against a tree, inspecting the hem of his shirt.

  “You may come along, Gris,” Carga finally agreed. “This will be good practice for when I send you on your own.” His face lit up, and he jogged to stand close to Carga.

  Hayden called out to them from where he waited in the courtyard. “The sun will be high above our heads soon enough. Let’s be on our way while there is still the sweetness of morning.”

  Baehlon stood with the other princesses, his arms crossed over his chest. He directed his ire at Taryn. “I should put you over my knee and paddle your arse until you can’t walk.”

  “What did I do?”

  “You would have left the palace grounds without alerting me. If I hadn’t run into young Hayden here, I might not have known you’d gone.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter to go shopping.”

  “Princess, you are too innocent for your own good.”

  Sabina took her arm. “Don’t worry, Taryn. You’ll get used to having guards accompany you. Back home, I was assigned four guards at all times. Imagine trying to have a private conversation with a quartet of soldiers standing only a pace away.”

  “You aren’t guarded here,” Taryn pointed out. “Won’t your father be upset?”

  “He doesn’t know. I have guards, don’t be mistaken about that, but they are staying with the other soldiers. I’ve paid them to send reports to my father saying exactly what he wants to hear.”

  “Who would’ve thought? Princess Sabina, a rebel.”

  The streets teemed with people trying to get their shopping done before the heat made the day miserable. Taryn cringed with each elbow that struck her wound. It seemed every basket or wayward hand they passed hit the mark. It had finally healed enough she’d stopped putting salve on it, but beneath the scar, it was still tender. She dodged the crowd as much as she could, keeping close to Baehlon, all the while worrying the wound might split open. She wrapped a hand protectively around her midsection.

  “Are you well?” Baehlon bent low to ask.

  “I didn’t know it would be so crowded.”

  The bells in his braids made a tinny sound when he shook his head. “We should turn back. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  Taryn agreed, but the happiness on the other princess’s faces stayed her words. It was rare they ventured from the palace; she didn’t want to take away their joy.

  “Gris and I need to meet with a merchant a few streets away. We will find you later, yes?” Carga and the boy slipped into the stream of people, disappearing before Taryn had a chance to reply.

  They wandered from stall to stall, looking at ribbons and trinkets. Taryn purchased several brightly colored ribbons for her maids in Paderau and some others for Cora and Ellie. The spice merchant Tabul treated them to tea, using his finest silver and tripping over himself in gratitude. Sabina spoke with the man at length about her homeland and then arranged for half a dozen spices to be delivered to the palace.

  After tea, they strolled through the streets, stopping at various merchants before wandering to the bookseller’s stall. Eliahnna and Taryn spent a good amount of time rummaging through the old texts. When the others became restless, they left the stall under protest, but with several volumes tucked into their baskets.

  Once in the open center of the square, the sun beat on them relentlessly. Several children ran past, and as Taryn stepped out of their way, she caught a brief glimpse of Rhoane in the distance. When she looked closer, he was gone.

  “Is something amiss?” Baehlon asked quietly.

  “Just the light playing tricks on my eyes.”

  Sabina led them to a produce stall with fruits and vegetables in every shape, color, and size. Tiny flies swarmed over the produce, drunk from the scents that lingered in the air. Melon, citrus, berry—it was intoxicating. Taryn delighted in everything she sampled.

  Flavors of sour and sweet tickled her tongue, sending shivers through her. It had been far too long since she’d had fruit this fresh. The palace cooks tended toward a heavy hand with sauces and spices that overtook the simple goodness of the food.

  Sabina squealed and picked up a round spiky apple. “Treplars!” She held the fruit to her nose, inhaling the heady scent. “Oh, how I adore them.”

  At her request, the merchant put several of the odd-looking things in her basket. Not stopping with just the treplars, Sabina pointed to other items until her basket was overflowing. When there was no room left in hers, she loaded up Taryn’s, as well.

  “I was not aware our goods were sold so far from the coast,” Sabina said by way of explanation for her indulgence.

  On their way to the next merchant, Taryn bit into what looked like a pear and was surprised that it tasted more like a watermelon. On impulse, she turned back to buy more, coming face-to-face with the shadow man from the tavern all those weeks ago.

  He stood not more than three paces from her, his hand on a dagger. Too stunned to move, Taryn stared at him. Black ShantiMari crisscrossed his body, swirling in a haze of motion when he moved.

  In one fluid step, he threw a dagger straight at her. Instinctively, she hid behind her basket. The blade impaled a treplar with an efficientsquish. She lowered the basket and saw Gris race toward the man, fists raised. The stranger dodged a strike and grabbed Gris by the front of his tunic, tossing him aside as if he were a rag doll. His body hit a stone column with a deafeningcrack and slid to the ground, unmoving.

  Before she had time to react, Baehlon and Hayden had their swords drawn, facing the stranger. Behind him, Rhoane and a half-dozen soldiers stood with their swords held aloft. Myriad threads of ShantiMari wrapped around the stranger, binding him.

  “Your weapons.” Baehlon’s quiet voice held a deadly edge. He motioned to the ground. “Easy now and no one gets hurt.” His sword was inches from the man’s heart.

  The shadow man sneered at them before he looked Taryn full in the face. Nothing but hatred emanated from his ice blue eyes. His hood slipped, revealing golden hair that shone in the sun, and something stirred within her. In a breath, it vanished. She took a step toward him, her hand outstretched. With a flash of light, he was gone, without a trace of ShantiMari for her to follow.

  “Ferran’s bells.” One look at Rhoane’s rage-filled face and the crowd slunk away into the background. He turned to Taryn, taking her by the shoulders. “Are you injured?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Rhoane spun her around and started walking quickly toward the palace. Two guards ushered Eliahnna, Tessa, and Sabina a step behind. “Is that the same man you saw before, when you were with Carga?”

  Taryn turned back. “Where is Carga? She’s still here. We can’t leave without her. And we need to see to Gris.”

  “They will be looked after. We need to get you back to the palace.” He pulled her along beside him. She held her basket of goods protectively to her chest.

  “But that man—he might find her.”

  “Never mind her. We must hurry.”

  The others raced with them through the palace gates. Hayden stayed behind to warn the guards of what happened. A barrier of ShantiMari rose over the palace walls, and her knees weakened.

  “Rhoane, what’s happening? Why are you rushing me?”

  He said nothing until they were safely inside. “Baehlon, find Faelara and Myrddin. Meet in my rooms. Hayden, find your father.” He turned to one of the guards. “I need you to inform Her Majesty of today’s events, but do not alarm her. Ask her to join us in my rooms. Take the princesses to their rooms, as well. Station guards at their do
ors.”

  Her sisters remained calm, but Tessa’s anxious glances and Eliahnna’s constant tugging of her dress gave them away. Three guards left, with Tessa and Eliahnna hurrying ahead of them. Rhoane motioned to another guard before rounding on Sabina. “Princess, please go to your rooms.”

  She nodded and then stopped herself. “No, I will stay with Taryn.”

  “Very well, but you must say nothing of what transpires.”

  “You have my word.” She kissed her thumb and put it to her heart. Sabina’s hand shook when she held Taryn’s hand in hers.

  Rhoane gave one last command to the remaining soldiers to search the market for Carga and bring Gris back to the palace. With that, the three of them hurried to Rhoane’s rooms. Several times, they had to slow to appear natural when courtiers or servants crossed their path. When they finally reached his suite, Taryn put her basket on a table and confronted Rhoane.

  “Why did that man attack me?”

  Rhoane paused in his warding. The look of fear in his eyes made her stumble backward.

  Sabina led her to a couch and said, “Because you are the Eirielle. That is why, Princess.”

  Rhoane finished his wards before kneeling in front of her, taking her hands in his with great care, as if she were a doll that might break. “We will find him, Taryn. I promise you.”

  A knock at the door made her jump. When Duke Anje and Hayden entered the room, her anxiety heightened. Faelara arrived, and a few minutes later Myrddin joined them.

  “Lliandra cannot get away from her meeting. She has bidden me to inform her what is decided here,” Myrddin told the group.

  Baehlon slipped in and carefully closed the door behind him. “The palace is secure. The captain of His Grace’s guard has his men and women on alert.” Baehlon stood behind Taryn, his arms crossed.

  The rest of the group took their seats, and Rhoane addressed them. “An attempt was made on Taryn’s life today in the marketplace. I believe it is the same assassin I learned of when we were here previously.”

  “Assassin?” Taryn’s voice was raw.

  They all spoke at once, or so it seemed to Taryn. Hayden wanted to storm the city to find the man, while Myrddin cautioned for patience. Baehlon thought they should delay their travel, but Faelara was certain the empress would do no such thing. On and on it went. They connected the first sighting of the assassin in Paderau and spoke only of those two events, but it dawned on Taryn that he’d been following her far longer than any of them realized.

  He was the shadow that teased her sight all those times.

  Yet she had no proof. Nothing she could give them except a feeling. Later, when she had more to go on than just an intuition, she’d tell Rhoane.

  “Why attack now, in the middle of the day in a crowded city?” Myrddin asked, stroking his beard as if he might milk an answer from it.

  “He’s taunting us. He wants us to know he isn’t afraid. That he can get close to Taryn even while she’s being guarded.” Baehlon stood with his back to the window, arms crossed, eyes fixed on Taryn as if challenging her to say more. He didn’t know. Couldn’t know. And yet his look told her he at least suspected she was hiding something.

  Rhoane slammed his fist on a table, making everyone in the room jump. “We were never more than ten paces from her. Where did he come from?”

  “A Shadow Assassin,” Hayden offered.

  “What did you say?” Rhoane stared at him.

  “Shadow Assassins existed long ago. They were Kaldaar’s elite force and served only Dark Masters. All of them were thought to be wiped out in the Great War, but they are neither dead nor alive. He must be a Shadow Assassin. And only a very powerful sorcerer could conjure one.”

  Faelara reminded everyone of the need for discretion. “Everything said here must stay between us or more attempts will be made on Taryn’s life. Is this understood?”

  They agreed, swearing to Faelara. Sabina’s body trembled as numbness cloaked Taryn. Whether from shock, anger, or fear, she wasn’t sure.

  While they argued, Taryn carefully removed the assassin’s blade from the treplar, studying it. More a throwing knife than a dagger, with intricate designs etched into the handle and blade, similar to the scrollwork on the seal. The total length of the knife was no more than a few inches. Strangely, it felt light in her palm. She handed the weapon to Rhoane. “Maybe this can give us some clue to his identity.”

  Myrddin moved quickly to retrieve the blade. “I should take that. It might be poisoned or bespelled with Black ShantiMari.”

  Rhoane hesitated and then handed the knife to Myrddin. “Let us know what you discover, but be discreet.”

  “Of course.” Myrddin snorted, offended. He folded the dagger in a scrap of fabric and then tucked it in his robe. A thread of his ShantiMari glowed in his pocket and then dissipated. Patting his robe, he said, “We’ll find this assassin, don’t you worry, my dear.”

  Taryn didn’t share his optimism. “Not anytime soon, I fear. I think we need to be vigilant but not change a thing.”

  Hayden put his hand on the hilt of his sword. “And risk another attack? I saw his face—so did you, Baehlon. I say we go now and find this bastard.”

  “If you saw his face, then you know he’s not all there, Hayden,” Sabina argued. “His eyes were soulless. He wants Taryn, but he won’t hesitate if you get in the way.”

  Hayden started to argue with her, but Taryn interrupted. “Stop!” She looked directly at Baehlon. “You accused me of being too innocent; I understand now what you meant. I’ll not cower behind a wall of good men and women, waiting for him to strike. You’re both right—he wants me, but he’ll kill whoever gets in his way. We’ll find a solution but not while we’re this emotional. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a puppy that needs tending. Sabina, would you care to join me? Now?”

  Sabina looked to Hayden, who nodded, and then curtseyed to the group. “Lady Faelara, gentlemen.”

  Taryn all but ran with Sabina to her apartments, making it to the chamber pot just in time. Sabina held her hair back, saying soft words of comfort while Taryn threw up. When she finished, Sabina wiped her face with a wet cloth. When Mayla and Lorilee offered their assistance, Sabina sent them to the kitchens for some herbal tea and toast, blaming Taryn’s illness on something she ate at the market and saying it was nothing to worry about.

  Taryn gave Sabina a grateful look. “Thank you. Please don’t tell anyone about this.”

  Sabina shushed her while embracing her friend. “I was so frightened today. I don’t ever want to feel that helpless again.”

  “Neither do I.” Taryn had no tears to shed, only a hollow feeling that gnawed at her confidence.

  She stretched out on the floor of her sitting room, and they played with Kaida. Hayden arrived a short time later with her basket of fruit and several books that would help Taryn understand the Shadow Assassin.

  After he and Sabina left, Taryn went to the kitchens to find Carga. The woman was standing at a table chopping onions when Taryn pulled her into a hug. “Thank God you’re safe. Where is Gris?”

  Carga gave a quick shake of her head and then gestured to a seat before getting them grhom. “I was too late to help Gris.”

  Anger welled inside her, suffocating. She hadn’t known Gris, but the way the assassin had tossed him aside as if he were nothing enraged her. The boy had died defending her. He would be avenged. “I failed him today. Failed everyone.”

  “You did no such thing.”

  Taryn grabbed Carga’s hand. “I froze. All my training was gone. I could’ve done something, anything, but instead I stood there like an idiot. And now Gris is dead because of me.”

  “Stop, Taryn. Gris’s death was not your fault. He acted on his own conscience.”

  “Why would he do something so foolish?”

  “Gris bravely defended you. It was not foolish.” Carga lifted Taryn’s chin to look at her. “Gris believed in you, Taryn. That is why he attacked the man.”

&
nbsp; “But, why? He didn’t know me.”

  “What? Because he did not sit at table with you? Or he never played one of your football games? Perhaps he was not a part of your daily life, but he knew enough about you to know you stood for something good. Something worth fighting for.”

  Taryn shook her head. They didn’t understand. She wasn’t who they thought she was. She had failed. Didn’t they see that? “How can I be this great protector if I can’t even defend myself?”

  “Taryn, are you not the same person who killed a vorlock single-handed and saved my brother’s life?” Carga’s words were soft but fierce.

  “That was different. Rhoane would’ve been killed if I didn’t do something.”

  “So, you think his life is of more value than your own?”

  “No. Well, maybe. I don’t know. Okay, yes, I do. His life is worth far more than my own.”

  Carga released a long-held breath and smiled. “At last.”

  “What?”

  “Look.”

  The runes on her hand shifted and then glowed with a soft iridescence. “What’s happening?”

  “It is time you stopped being a child, Taryn, and become what you are meant to be. Your path will not be easy. People will die, yes. There is no way you can avoid this. They will die for you or possibly because of you. It is a hard truth you must ingest and allow to become a part of your very marrow. Embrace this truth, but do not hide from it. If you do, it is you we will be mourning. And you are no good to my brother dead.” The chill in her voice sent a shudder through Taryn.

  “I’m frightened, Carga.”

  “It is good to be afraid, but do not let fear keep you from living. Put that feeling aside, but never forget it is there. You must learn to use your fear for great things.”

  “That’s easy for you to say, hiding here in the kitchens, afraid to be in the world.” Her words cut harsher than she’d meant, but she was tired of people telling her what to believe. She knew what had happened earlier that day. Knew she’d have to live with the consequences of her cowardice. Knew that Gris had died in vain because of her.

  “That is not fair, and you know it. I choose to work here for my own reasons.”