“Why you insist on protecting these people who hurt you so badly…”
He struggled to soften his voice. She, after all, was not the object of his ire.
“Whatever pain Venefica might cause you, whatever fear I might place in your heart, could never wound your spirit the way your family has. Lyssanne…” He grasped her shoulders. “I watched part of you die that day.” Oh, how he longed to take her into his arms. “Every time they accused you of failing to try, giving up, or…of all things…sloth, another spark went out in your eyes.”
“People say and do things they don’t really mean,” she said. “Even I didn’t know it was a curse. Besides, I’ve forgiven them.”
“They sentenced you to die! How can you forgive that?”
But then, she’d forgiven him.
“No, they sent me into exile.”
“In your condition,” he said between his teeth, “it is the same thing.”
“They didn’t realize—”
“They knew precisely what they were doing, Lyssanne.” He waved toward Jarad, who had just passed them. “Even this boy was aware of it. That’s why they enlisted the entire village in their decision, to assuage their guilt with shared blame. Oh yes, they knew.” He hooked a finger beneath her chin and leaned down, inches from her face. “Even I knew.”
“You…” She stared up at him, rubbing her arms, then took a step back. “Regardless, I must help them. As a knight, did you not vow to protect those who cannot fight for themselves? Surely, you understand.”
“I vowed to defend the innocent, such as you. Those people were not defenseless, Lyssanne.” He straightened. “They allowed her power to rule them.”
“They didn’t know. They couldn’t see—”
“You did.”
“Only because the King gave me sight.”
“He gave them the sight as well.” Brennus stared into her eyes. “He gave them you.”
Sighing, she turned from him and hefted a bundle from a small stack near the door.
“Lyssanne.”
“I understand,” she said, her back to him. “You made promises to her. If I do this, it could interfere with having your family’s curse broken. I…I don’t wish to hurt you, but Aderyn and Mr. DeLivre, the children…and Serena—I must help them.”
“My counsel is no enemy’s ploy designed to thwart you.” He rested a hand on each of her shoulders and turned her to face him. “What would be the penalty for violating your banishment? You might have to fight for your life before you ever reach Venefica.”
“I have no choice.” Her flat tone stabbed at his heart. “You said yourself, even she thinks I’m the one the prophecy foretold.”
“I’ve spoken with Duncan,” he said. “I’m still half surprised he didn’t clap me in irons after learning everything I’ve done, but even now he is preparing troops to send to Cloistervale’s aid. There is no need for you to go.”
“You are sending soldiers?”
“Lastarra is MeMe’s homeland as well, and her mother’s tidings from court made it clear the realm’s queen has fallen to the Mist.”
“You speak of Queen Stella’s uncharacteristic melancholy since Venefica’s visit?”
“That and her all too swift agreement to reinstate Venefica’s familial rule over the Cloister Valley.” He scrubbed a hand across his chin. “So, Duncan’s men will travel under cover of forests, lest Venefica should suspect attack or Queen Stella mistake an army marching through her land as an act of war.”
“With what will you arm them?” Her voice held the ghost of a laugh. “What good are swords or arrows against magic?” She looked up at him with shadowed eyes. “What armor can shield them from the effects of the Shadow Mist?” She shook her head. “Your Highness, they can’t even see it!” She averted her gaze again. “I can. I, alone. If there is a chance, however small, that I may stop it, I must try.”
“You have an amazing gift, but you are no match for her.” He huffed. “You can’t heal evil.” He gave her shoulders a gentle shake. “Venefica is ruthless. You cannot hope to negotiate with her. Even your eloquent words will hold no sway. She fears you more than she fears anything. Lyssanne, she will show you…no…mercy.”
Lyssanne closed her eyes. “The King will protect me.”
She pulled free of his hands and resumed her packing. As Jarad went to join her, Brennus strode across the stable to Reina.
“You could talk to her,” he murmured. “Persuade her not to do this.”
“And prevent her from following the King’s path?” the unicorn said. “No.”
“Is it His plan for her to walk to her own destruction?”
“He never sets us on a course without first seeing to our preparation for the journey.”
“No? He just sends his faithful one down a path that can only lead to her death.”
“If it does,” said Reina, “she will have the truest victory.”
“Death? You think she sees it that way?”
Reina pierced him with her sea-deep, blue gaze. “Yes.”
“You’re wrong, Shining One.” He matched her unflinching stare. “I know Lyssanne, perhaps better than anyone. She doesn’t wish to die. You’ll never make me believe that. I’ve watched her fight for life too many times.”
“True,” Reina said. “She wishes to live and be of service as long as the King wills. Yet, if death should find her, she will go to the halls of her King with joy.”
“What is my path, then?” he said. “To at last find my way free of darkness, only to stand by and watch as the one true light in this black world is destroyed?”
“Then, you’ve chosen to acknowledge the reality of the King?”
“That changes nothing!” he said, part growl. “Not for her.”
“Meeting you was part of her preparation. You’ve given her strength and hope.”
“Much good it has done her.” He stared at his feet, fists digging into his hips. Then, his head snapped up with sudden purpose. “I could stop her.”
“You could…”
The rest of Reina’s thought hung heavy in the air behind him, as his strides ate up the distance to Lyssanne. “You are set on this?”
“Yes, Brennus,” she said.
“Those people are nothing to me, but you have become…significant…in my life.” He took her hand. “I cannot permit you to walk into her lair alone. You will be helpless against her traps. She’ll know you’re coming before you set foot on her mountain.” He waited until Lyssanne’s full gaze rested upon him. “I won’t allow it.”
A measure of fear crept into her eyes. “Brennus, please. You can’t…”
Oh, yes, he could hold her here if he wished.
“I am going with you.”
Her eyes flew wide, sparks dancing like tiny flames within sapphire. “You…?” She flung her arms around him as if on impulse, then pulled away, flushed.
Lyssanne settled into a chair facing the hearth, while Brennus paid the innkeeper then bolted the door to their private dining salon. ’Twas a wonder what coins could purchase. She stretched out her legs, thankful to be free of the carriage. As floorboards creaked behind her, she fingered the edges of her cowl. Was it safe?
“No need to hide our faces here,” Brennus said, lifting his hood to reveal his eyes. “Clark and Jarad know the signal. I shall open the door to no other.” He folded his cloak over one arm and indicated the adjacent chair. “Might I join you?”
Lyssanne tried for a lighthearted tone as she unfastened her cloak and let it fall over her chair back. “Certainly, sir.”
“What’s amiss?” he asked. “Something weighs upon your heart. I see it in your eyes.”
Ah, he did know her well. “I mustn't speak of anything that may give power to darkness,” she said, striving to guard her words as the faeries had counseled.
“The Mist hasn’t reached this far,” he said. “I would remove the shadows from your eyes, but how can I be of service if I know not the trouble?”
’Twas a moment of weakness, but she couldn’t prevent uttering thoughts she’d struggled to banish. “It isn’t the sorceress I fear, though I know I should. After everything I’ve endured, I almost feel numb to the prospect of meeting the cause of it all. ’Tis my own inadequacy I dread, to fail everyone, to waste the King’s gift.”
“Waste His gift? Lyssanne, you waste nothing.”
“I’ve survived only by His grace and the aid of friends. What if my body should fail me? I must do this, but I…” She stood, unable to face him. “I fear I haven’t the strength.”
With a gentle but firm tug, he turned her to him. “Then, take mine.” He placed her hand atop his wide shoulder and held it there. “Let my shoulders bear the weight of your burdens. Let me lift you, my legs bear you wherever you need go.”
He slid from his chair onto one knee, his free hand resting at the hilt of his sword. For the first time, she was able to truly look into his eyes.
“Let my blade clear the obstacles from your path,” he said, “my life be a shield to yours. If you must go into battle, let me be your armor.”
She stared at him, as a complex rhythm rattled the chamber door. “You would openly set yourself against this one to whom you’ve vowed your life in service? I could not ask it of you.”
“I have already broken that oath, every day since we left Stupasce.”
“But…how?”
He rose, again looming over her. “I let you live.”
Lyssanne picked at her meal, Brennus’s fireside admission consuming her thoughts. She struggled to heed her companions’ conversation. Brennus, too, had said little.
“Good thing our carriage has that starburst-shaped scratch on the door,” Jarad said between mouthfuls. “Or I wouldn’t be able to tell it from every other plain black coach in the carriage house. Why didn’t Lord Avery loan us one with an insignia or at least house colors?”
“So we’ll escape notice, I suspect,” Clark said. “I must say, I’m rather enjoying all this stealth and strategy—playing the role of manservant, sneaking our noble folk past potential enemy spies. Still stunned Lord Avery chose me, though.”
“Well,” Jarad said, ducking his head, “after I told him you’d do anything to protect Lady Lyssanne, and since you’d kept how she saved you a secret even from him, he said your loyalty was unquestioned.”
Clark’s hearty chuckle made Lyssanne smile. He’d certainly accepted the involvement of magic in their adventure with admirable calm.
“How long must we travel concealed?” Jarad asked.
“Until we reach the forests south of Cloistervale,” Brennus said. “Lyssanne will need all the rest we can afford her. Remember to keep the curtains drawn once we leave Lyrya. Should anyone ensnared in the Mist see either of us, Venefica will be instantly alerted.”
“That reminds me, Highness,” Clark said, “shall I meet you in your chamber at sun-up?”
“Earlier. I must don the falconer’s hood before I transform, lest she discern my location.”
“Then what?” Clark said with a snort. “Secure you atop the carriage with the baggage?”
“No, I’ll ride in the driver’s box with you. Should sunlight leave my body during our travels, I would transform anew into a shadow of myself. In that state, I’d pass through even the roof of the carriage, exposing Lyssanne to Venefica’s sight.”
A shock of memory trembled through Lyssanne. “You’ve watched me thus, before. In Noel’s sickroom, were you…?”
“Yes.”
“In the library, I felt your eyes, and…” A chill swept over her. “It was you? In…in the wood near Mr. Fescue’s tower?”
He admitted to all of it, spinning her a harrowing tale of botched spells and betrayal.
Lyssanne shivered. He’d certainly been thorough in his role as spy. She set her spoon down and excused herself, wandering back to her seat before the fire.
As Clark and Jarad took their leave to check on the horses and ready their chambers, Brennus walked up to her. He held out a steaming mug. “Hot tea, my lady?”
“Thank you, Sir Knight.” She smiled, hoping to banish heavy thoughts for them both.
“You’ve accepted my oath of fealty, then?”
His oath? Lyssanne gasped. Of course! His hand upon the hilt of his sword earlier, his subservient posture…“No,” she said. “I shall accept your friendship.”
He bowed. “That, you have for as long as I draw breath.” He slumped into the chair beside hers. “I understand. One oath, I’ve already broken—”
“You mistake me,” she said. “It is not your loyalty I question. It is your loyalty that prevents me.” She reached out to cover his hand. “You honor me, but I would not bind you so.”
“You are truly a lady, Lyssanne.” He raised her hand to his lips, and bowed over it. “How, then, can I assure you of my intentions?”
“If you must pledge fealty to anyone,” she said, “make your vow to the King of All Lands. He, alone, is worthy of such loyalty.”
“Your King would not have a vow from one such as me.”
“He would if you are sincere.”
Brennus shook his head. “After all I’ve done, He would doubtless strike me down for presuming to approach Him. I am not fit to utter His name, let alone serve so great a King.”
“None of us are, Brennus.” Her heart ached for him, this man who had given his entire life to restore his family and help his people. “He is your King, whether you acknowledge him or no. He is just, but merciful, and forgives all who truly desire to serve Him. He loves you.”
“How could He? How can you, for that matter? You should’ve petitioned Duncan for my arrest the moment we reached Avery Hall.”
She shrugged. “You’ve explained your actions, and I believe you. Even what you did at Stupasce was meant only to frighten me. You could have harmed me many times, but—”
“Oh, I did harm you. I…Lyssanne, I gave Venefica the main ingredient for her potion. I made her curse on you possible.” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “All those times you’ve suffered…If only I hadn’t brought her that flower from your hair!”
“What flower?” She set her mug aside, no longer thirsty.
“The morning your curse struck, you told the children a tale. A little girl sat upon your lap and gave you a flower, a rowan blossom.”
“Elaiza,” she whispered.
“I should have left then, seeing what Venefica was. Anyone who can turn a child’s innocent gift into a curse…” He shook his head. “She needed something for her potion, something that would target the spell to you.” He sighed. “And I provided it.”
Lyssanne forced herself to find voice. “That cannot be undone. What matters, for me, for us all, is what you do henceforth.”
Brennus finished his circuit around the camp and settled by the fire to conclude his watch. A fortnight into their journey, and already the distance between villages had grown too great to span in a single day. He glanced up as Lyssanne joined him. “You should be resting.”
She shrugged. “So much dozing in the carriage leaves me wakeful at odd hours.”
A sudden pop startled them both. Faeries! Could they never be subtle?
“I’ve come to give you warning,” Olivia said. “Some members of the FAE have broken faith with the King.”
Lyssanne paled, staring at Olivia as if she’d never seen a faerie. “You're created to serve the King,” she whispered. “Faeries wouldn’t rebel against Him.”
“I wish that were so,” Olivia said. “It isn’t yet a full-scale revolt, but if matters don't improve, and soon, we could have another faerie war on our hands.”
“Another war?” said Brennus.
“The first occurred before the Dawning. I thought you knew this. Lyssanne shared a version of the tale at Avery Hall. Years of retelling have altered it a bit, but the essence remains.”
Lyssanne turned to Brennus. “’Tis true? I thought the story a mere legend.”
“The FAE of old were once divided,” Olivia said. “The Thief of Souls ensnared some who despised their lot, a standing between that of men and angels.”
“Why?” Lyssanne asked. “That is a place of such high honor.”
“They didn’t see it thus. We Faeries had fought and died for the King, so why, they asked, should man, who often denied His very existence, be favored above all others? And why were angels granted access to the throne while faeries received only messages and assignments?”
“So, they tried to, what,” Lyssanne asked, “overthrow the King?”
“What they thought to accomplish is unknown,” said Olivia, “but the ramifications were disastrous and far-reaching. Now, with our queen imprisoned, some again believe the lie that the King’s way is weaker and seek to ally with power. With the sorceress and her Mist in the mix, a revolt would be worse than the first war.”
“Have many turned traitor?” Brennus asked. “To break fealty is an act worthy of death.”
Olivia stared at him. “It is.” She looked away. “We’ve lost fewer than a score, but the allegiance of many is in question. Most are set to await the outcome of this war with Venefica Mortifer.”
A chilling thought struck Brennus. “Are the other nophel involved?”
“The who?” Lyssanne asked.
“None but those FAE who've recently fallen…yet,” Olivia said. “Though, other dark creatures roam the fringes of Cloistervale. Few citizens dare venture out at night.”
Brennus’s jaw clenched. Duncan’s men facing a score of fallen faeries, as well as dark creatures and Shadow Mist? He didn’t like their chances.
“So much rests on this,” Lyssanne said. “Why? I understand their fear for Serena, but—”
“Venefica will move on to engulf other lands in hopeless darkness," Olivia said, "leaving many human spirits enslaved to the Thief of Souls. Our authority to act, our strength, will be greatly diminished. Then, Lyssanne, not even you could stop her.”
Lyssanne shivered, despite the warmth of the night. Brennus draped his mantle around her and held her close. “Was that necessary?” he said, his gaze firing darts at Olivia. “She understands the importance of her task. She wouldn't be here, else.”
Keeper of Shadows (Light-Wielder Chronicles Book 1) Page 38