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

by Tameri Etherton

  The games were more of a time killer than anything, and they often played with more than the requisite number of players on the field. Taryn had Tarro make Tessa a pair of shorts and a loose blouse for her to wear for their training, but the girl had taken to wearing the garments around the palace at all times, except for dinner. Even Tessa knew not to court the wrath of their mother that much.

  The evening before they were to leave Paderau, Duke Anje held a grand feast. They dined outdoors where tables had been set up on their playing field. Candles drifted overhead, suspended on tufts of ShantiMari. Servants brought them dishes on silver platters, and they ate until their waistbands expanded a little too much.

  After the meal, a band set up in the garden, and they all danced between rose bushes and ornamental hedges. Taryn’s pendant hummed along to a somber song as she waltzed with Rhoane. The lyrics teased her memory, but she couldn’t quite grasp them.

  “Do you know the words to this tune?” she asked.

  Rhoane thought for a moment, keeping step with the music. “I do not believe there are lyrics, only melody.”

  “I could swear there are words.”

  Duke Anje tapped Rhoane on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?”

  Rhoane released Taryn into Anje’s waiting hand and stood to the side where she knew he would watch over her. Since the assassin’s attack, Rhoane made certain Taryn was guarded at all times. Each morning she would wake to find at least one soldier positioned outside her rooms. Whoever had drawn the short straw had her sympathy. Certainly, no one was going to volunteer for that job.

  “Do you know the lyrics to this song?” Taryn asked Anje, pulling her mind back to the moment.

  “Not that I can recall. It’s rather a sad tune, don’t you think?” He hummed a bit, shaking his head.

  “It’s a song of the Dark,” Taryn said, uncertain how she knew. “Hey, you can teach me to use my Dark ShantiMari. Why didn’t I think of that earlier?”

  “Ah, my sweet lass, I’ve lived too long in the Light. ShantiMari needs to be stretched and let free to gallop, like a fine horse. I’m afraid I’ve let my skills fade. Hayden though,” he cast a quick glance at Lliandra, “will know a trick or two. Nothing as powerful as your brother, he could get you started. It’s just a matter of unlocking the secrets.”

  Taryn groaned. “I really hate secrets. And riddles. Why can’t this be easy?”

  Anje’s good-natured laugh jiggled his midsection, tickling her. “If it was simple, then what’s the point?”

  The music changed to a reel, and he moved her away from the other dancers to a part of the garden where jasmine trailed over arches, mingling with wisteria to perfume the air. Two guards strolled not far behind.

  “When you get to Talaith, there are some arrangements I’d like you to make.”

  “Like what?” Taryn asked, curious what her uncle was planning.

  “Setting up your household for one. Seek out Master Beary, he’ll help you with servants and the like. Take Hayden with you. I’ve informed him of everything you’ll need.”

  “But why? I didn’t have any of that before.”

  “Do you enjoy being a ward of your mother?” Taryn didn’t need to answer. He knew she didn’t. “This will give you autonomy. Yes, you’ll be living in your mother’s palace, but you’ll have your own maids, your own servants, all loyal toyou.” Anje placed a pouch in her hands. “I understand you’re having difficulties with one of your maids in Talaith. A little coin goes a long way with some folks.”

  Taryn shouldn’t have been surprised he knew, but she was. “She doesn’t like me. It’s no big deal.”

  “It is a big deal, as you say, if she’s in the pocket of your sister. You can either bid higher for her loyalty or fire her and find someone you can trust.”

  “Like that’ll be easy. It’s not as if I have a truth meter I can just whip out and see who’s loyal and who isn’t.”

  Anje shook his head. “You say the most curious things, my favorite niece.”

  “Favorite, eh? My sisters will be so jealous.”

  “You are my only niece by blood, which is why it is so important to me that you find servants at the Crystal Palace who you can trust with your life. Not so much maids as bodyguards. That giant of a knight of yours helped me choose six of my best soldiers to accompany you to Talaith. They’ll be a part of your personal guard. Trust them to find a few more. You’ll not get much help from your mother. Gods bless her, but she thinks only of her crown.”

  “I’m not sure I want her choosing my personal guardsor my maids. I wish you were coming with us to Talaith.”

  “I have work to occupy my time here, but I’ll see you before too long.”

  “Am I interrupting anything?” Lliandra strolled through the narrow space between the hedges, her jewels catching the candlelight, casting prisms over them. She noticed the pouch in Taryn’s hand and cast a petulant look at Anje. “Spoiling Taryn won’t bring her back, you know.”

  Anje’s face paled, his cheeks turned crimson. “It’s my right to give my niece whatever I like. Be it coin or advice. Neither of which she gets from her mother.” He gave a curt bow and strode away, his footfalls heavy on the pebbled path.

  Taryn glared at her mother. “That was cold.”

  “Perhaps. I don’t like the influence he has over you. Anje is cousin to Valterys, never forget that.” Lliandra smoothed back an errant curl off Taryn’s forehead. “You do resemble her, you know.” Taryn didn’t need Lliandra to tell her she meant Gwyneira. Taryn had heard it often enough from the courtiers and saw it reflected back at her in the many portraits hanging throughout the palace.

  “He misses her.”

  “He needs to find a new wife. Someone young enough to give him heirs. But I didn’t come here to talk about Anje or my sister. I wanted to thank you for what you’re doing for Tessa. She’s positively in awe of you.”

  “You don’t mind? I know I should’ve asked your permission first, but she seemed so happy that I didn’t want to spoil it.”

  “Yes, you should have asked, but what’s done is done. I’m glad that you’ve taken her under your wing, so to speak. She needs someone to look up to.”

  “Tessa’s great. Eliahnna, too. You should spend more time with them, or at the very least let them have some space to run free. Cooping them up in the palace can’t be any fun. Give them a chance to explore the world, get to know people besides courtiers and servants.”

  “So, you would tell me how to parent?” A dangerous light shone from the depths of her dusky blue eyes. “Would you also tell me how to run my kingdom?”

  Lliandra’s stare could cut ice with precision and Taryn chose her words with care, her voice light and carefree. “Hell to the no. Kids, I understand, having been one myself not long ago, but politics? I’ll leave that to the experts, like you.”

  She pressed her lips against Lliandra’s cheek, feeling the aridness of the woman’s skin, breathing in the scent of jasmine and death. Perfumed decay. Taryn stepped back to look her mother full in the face. Her Mari was intact, giving the illusion of robust health and beauty.

  “Are you well, Mother?”

  “Of course, why do you ask?” Lliandra tossed a long curl over her shoulder and sniffed the night air. “I don’t enjoy being so far from the coast at this time of year, but I feel fine.”

  “And you look amazing.”

  “Flattery? And you said you don’t have a head for politics. Should I hide the scepter now or wait until there’s a coup?”

  “You don’t have to hide it from me. I was serious. I have no desire to take your throne. Should anything happen to Marissa, Eliahnna is the next in line, not me. Make a declaration, put it in writing, I don’t care, but believe this with all your heart.”

  A chill surrounded them suddenly. Dark clouds moved overhead, and the air itself vibrated. “Would you aspire to the Obsidian Throne, then? Has Valterys wormed his way into your heart?”

  “What? No!” Taryn
glanced at the threatening clouds and back to her mother. “Is that you? You can control the weather?”

  Lliandra sniffed and snapped a wave at the air. The clouds dispersed, moving over the river to the northeast. “Of course. It is my right as the Lady of Light. So you aren’t in league with Valterys? You have no wish to sit either throne? Or the Weirren?”

  “None at all. I wasn’t bred to be a queen or an empress. My purpose is balance. For all of Aelinae.”

  Mollified for the moment, Lliandra patted Taryn’s hands. “Good. We shouldn’t be enemies.”

  Taryn watched her mother’s retreat with a heaviness in her heart. For Lliandra, there were enemies and allies. No middle ground. At least for the time being Taryn was considered an ally, but how long would that last? Surely, there would come a time when Taryn stepped over an invisible line and offended not just Lliandra but her father and who knew whom else?

  There was much more to being the Eirielle than learning to control her powers. As the last vestiges of Lliandra’s Mari drifted behind the hedge, Taryn knew exactly where to begin her search—with the Eiriellean Prophecies.

  The library in Talaith was the largest in all the seven kingdoms. Somewhere in the scrolls, journals, and scraps of diaries she’d find clues to her path. She held her hand to the moonlight and examined the runes circling her wrist. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was research.

  She hurried to her rooms and retrieved her journal. Curled up in her favorite chair by the window with Kaida snuggled in her lap, Taryn set quill to paper and scratched out notes, making two columns: one for friends, one for enemies. Thankfully, theFriends column was longer than that for her enemies, but even that list was far too long to bring her any comfort.

  It wasn’t until she’d filled six pages that she realized with a shock she’d written everything in English. Seeing the familiar words and phrases brought a searing pain of homesickness that, instead of trying to shove deep into the recesses of her mind like she always had, she let wash over her. Reveling in the simple joys she’d once shared with Brandt, reminiscing about the life they’d lived, the adventures they had. Smells from her childhood floated to her—a seaside cottage in California, the sharp tang of olives from tapas in Spain, and the earthy loam of Scotland where they’d stayed for several years. Another scent joined the others, that of cigar tobacco.

  Taryn jerked up and stared into the ghostly image of her grandfather. “You were teaching me all along, weren’t you? Guiding me, really. Toward all of this. You clever, clever man.”

  Brandt chuckled and tapped his pipe against his bottom lip. “I knew you’d sort it out sooner or later.” Kaida perked her ears at his voice, her eyes fixed on the place where Brant hovered. “Who’s your friend?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Contrary to popular belief, we don’t spend our days following your antics. We’re busy up there. Besides, Nadra and Ohlin block most of what’s happening down here. They have the misbegotten belief that you are better off left alone.”

  “Then how did you know to come here tonight?”

  “I didn’t. Nadra said it was time for a visit, and here I am.”

  His form took on the transparency she’d come to dread. “Do you know what I’m supposed to do next?”

  He shook his head, already little more than mist. “But you’re on the right track, I’d say.” A wispy finger pointed to the journal.

  “Kaida,” Taryn called out to him. “Her name is Kaida,” she said to the now empty room.

  A soft chuckle drifted on the breeze, whispering, “Be well, little dragon.”

  Chapter 44

  THE day they were to leave Paderau, Taryn met Carga in the kitchen for their usual meal. Afterward, they walked the short distance to where Gris had been buried a few days earlier. A simple plaque marked the grave, citing his name and date of death.

  Taryn knelt over the grave and pushed her fingers into the soil as if to touch the lad one last time. To thank him for his bravery. His sacrifice. When she rose, words scrawled along the plaque. In death may he find the peace that eluded him in life. He will forever hold a place in our hearts. May there be no Light without Dark, and no darkness without light.

  Carga took her hand as they made their way back to the palace. Neither spoke of what Taryn had done, but the Eleri princess approved. The murmuring of Carga’s people sighed in her mind.

  The carriages waited in the courtyard when they returned and Taryn rushed through the palace giving last minute gifts to the staff and saying her goodbyes. In her search for Ashanni, she dodged the chaotic loading of trunks and boxes. Lorilee waited by a cart, bouncing on the balls of her feet in anticipation of the trip ahead.

  Anje had given her maids the choice to serve Taryn in Talaith. Mayla would stay at Paderau, because she had a “fella,” as Lorilee put it, and Lorilee would permanently be a part of Taryn’s staff. It was her first step in setting up her household, and she held herself a bit taller with the knowledge, her shoulders back a fraction more.

  She said her farewells, with Taryn giving the duke an extended hug, thanking him for Lorilee and everything he’d done. He’d become like a second father to her, and it was with profound sadness she rode away from the palace. Despite his assurances they would see each other soon, there would be times in the interim she would need his guidance, crave his gentle reassurance she was on the right path. To know everything would work out in the end. She desperately needed to believe it would.

  The caravan traveled from the palace through the streets, passing the market square where only days earlier the Shadow Assassin had attacked Taryn. Tension laced their movements, and the very air snapped with unspent ShantiMari. By the end of the first day, everyone’s nerves were frayed, and dinner that night was a quiet affair. Even the soldiers, who normally caroused and sang, were subdued.

  It was impossible to escape—the responsibility and the guilt. It sat heavy around Taryn’s shoulders like a worn yoke cracked and rusted with age. Unable to endure the solemnity another minute, Taryn excused herself. As she entered her tent, a small man scurried to hide beneath her cot. Taryn set Kaida down on Sabina’s bed and drew her sword from its scabbard.

  She dipped it low enough he could see she was armed. “Come out from under there. Don’t make any sudden movements and you won’t get hurt.”

  He inched his way to the side of the canvas, his shoes scrabbling against the ground. Taryn sent a thread of ShantiMari toward him, entangling his legs. When he didn’t move from under the bed, Taryn snapped a bit of heat at him.

  She heard several curses followed by a plea. “I’m coming out. Don’t harm me.” He pulled himself from under her cot and stood, brushing the dirt from his pants.

  At least a foot shorter than she and dressed in the livery of Duke Anje, he was no servant Taryn recognized. His greasy hair hung in dark clumps to his shoulders, framing a face with eyes that looked like little bits of coal stuck too close together.

  She held Ohlin’s sword at his chest. “Who are you and why are you in my tent?” Kaida tumbled from Sabina’s bed to sit beside Taryn, a low growl coming from her throat.

  The little man put up his hands in surrender, amusement clear in his voice. “Please, Your Highness, I was just making sure everything was arranged for your comfort.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Normally I would say yes, but in this case I’m not.”

  “If you’re telling the truth, then touch my sword and swear.” She flicked the sword closer to his face.

  His eyes grew large and sweat ran down his cheeks. The mirth disappeared from his voice. “Your Highness, none but you can touch the blade.”

  “If you are true of heart, you may touch it with my permission.”

  He watched her closely, his nose twitching erratically like a rat on the scent of his favorite cheese. “Now who’s lying? I’ll do you one better. Ask Prince Rhoane. He’ll vouch for Ebus.”

  “Prince Rhoane sent you?” Silen
tly, she called Rhoane to join them.

  Within moments, she heard his footfalls coming closer. He entered her tent, swearing at the intruder. “Ebus, you fool.”

  Taryn barely suppressed her shock. “You know this man?” Ebus moved an inch to his left, and she put the sword back to his chest. “Stay.” He froze, a look of irritation in his eyes.

  “Unfortunately, yes. Taryn, this is Ebus. He is working for me, undercover, to help flush out the Shadow Assassin.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” A bitter hurt stung her words.

  “He is supposed to beinvisible. You were never meant to know he was anywhere near you.” Rhoane looked pointedly at Ebus.

  “You said she’d be dining with the others. She surprised me.”

  “Why is he in my tent?”

  Kaida growled and snapped at the man. A foot high ball of fur couldn’t protect her as well as the steel of her blade, but she loved that Kaida thought she could.

  “He was checking to make certain your quarters were secure before you retired for the night. I sent him here,” Rhoane explained.

  Taryn lowered the sword, and Ebus took a deep breath. “It’s about time.” At Rhoane’s scowl, he said without much enthusiasm, “Thank you, Your Highness. If I may?” He gestured to the doorway.

  “Not yet. If you are going to be my spy, there are a few things we need to get clear. You are to never, ever enter my private sleeping quarters again without my consent.” She reached out to touch his forehead, and he flinched. “Come here.” She put a fingertip to his temple, feeling the thrum of Shanti, but it was off. Like Sabina’s, twisted somehow. “You can speak to me in your thoughts.” She allowed a slight opening in her mind for him. “Act as if we’ve never met.”

  “As you wish, Great Lady,” Ebus said. His little pointed nose twitched, and he added, “If you’d like a little privacy, I could duck out and make certain no one entered.”