Shawna Thomas

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by Journey of Dominion


  She glanced around the room. It was by far the most luxurious place she’d ever seen. Too luxurious, considering the poverty of the villages she’d passed through the valley. It seemed too much of a coincidence that she should find the poorest people and the richest nobles in the same small eastern kingdom home to another stone keeper. What exactly could the stone of Dominion do? It was a question she wished she’d asked Zeynel because she had a feeling she was going find out.

  Ilythra let go of Ilydearta, tucking it beneath her shirt. She still didn’t know the extent of her own stone’s power and had a feeling she wouldn’t until she met its original keepers, the Siobani.

  Moving to the vanity, she tested the water with her finger then sniffed it. Lavender and rose petals. Nice. She shrugged off her sword, removed her tunic and snapped it through the air, amused by the cloud of dust that emerged from the garment, and then hung it on the still-open window, where it caught the fresh breeze.

  The water was tepid as she splashed it on her face, scrubbing with a small towel to remove dirt and grime. Then, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt, she washed her arms, drying with another larger towel before unbraiding her hair and running her fingers through it. It had grown, reaching the small of her back. She wondered what her grandfather would think of her with long hair as she braided it into a single coil.

  Another knock sounded on the door.

  “Just a minute.” She moved to the tunic and slipped it on, lacing the front closed. “Come in.”

  Konrad entered. “The king will see you now.”

  Ilythra swallowed. Here we go.

  * * *

  Out of courtesy, Ilythra left her staff, but not her sword in her room. She followed the steward through long, darkened corridors. Torches blazed at intervals along the walls, throwing their light in smoking bands across slightly uneven stone slabs on the floor and teasing the recess of groined ceilings. At the landing, she paused to admire a small statue inside an arched niche.

  “The goddess, Theta,” Konrad explained. “Protector of families.”

  Ilythra admired the graceful lines of the wooden goddess then followed Konrad up a winding staircase. He stopped before a single wooden door and knocked.

  “Enter.”

  The voice held the confidence of leadership. Konrad opened the door and stepped aside. Ilythra paused at the threshold to exchange a quick glance with Konrad, who nodded encouragement. She placed her hand over Ilydearta for a moment, squared her shoulders and walked in to see a man, his face in shadow, standing in front of a fireplace that took up most of one wall.

  She heard Konrad’s voice behind her. “Your Majesty, Ilythra.”

  The king stepped forward. Blond hair shot with silver fell to his shoulders. His nose was straight and a tad too long, his mouth wide but the lips slightly too narrow. His most remarkable feature was his eyes—ice blue and peering at her with ill-disguised curiosity. She felt a strange disappointment. The king was alone. She’d expected Bredych as well.

  “So you’re Ilythra, the healer.” He stepped closer. The fabric of his white shirt swished in a way that conveyed it was not simple homespun. His supple boots made little noise against the wooden floor. He wore a deep green tunic belted with gold links. “I’m Erhard, King of Greton.” He spoke as if she should be familiar with the title. He grasped her hand and his lips grazed her fingers.

  A spicy scent she could not place flavored the air. She raised an eyebrow. Several people she’d come across splashed with violet water or perhaps lavender or rose, but the king wore something a bit more complicated.

  Ilythra inclined her head. “Your Majesty.”

  “I take it you’ve been made comfortable?” He addressed the question to her but glanced over her shoulder at Konrad.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Good. Please sit.” He turned to the steward. “You may leave us now.”

  It was a small room, less than half the size of the previous. Two chairs stood in front of the fireplace and, to the side, a small game table sat beneath the framed darkness of a window. Beautiful, colored glass vases peppered a mantel over the crackling flames. The effect was cozy and warm. Erhard moved to a sideboard and poured a goblet of wine from a dark carafe. “Wine?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “I’m sorry duties prevented me from greeting you upon your arrival. Affairs of state, you know.”

  She didn’t but accepted the wine with a small smile. “You expected me?” Ilythra opened, sitting in the offered chair.

  The king settled across from her. “We didn’t know the exact day you’d arrive, but rumor of your coming preceded you.” He sipped his wine then leaned forward. “Greton is a small kingdom, tucked away on the edge of wilderness. We don’t get many travelers. Even the traders don’t often come this way.”

  “I see.” We? The king and Bredych?

  “Besides, my advisor, Lord Bredych, predicted you would come. And he’s seldom wrong.”

  The hand bringing the wineglass to her lips froze. She wasn’t sure if the pounding in her chest was Ilydearta or her heart. She came to find Bredych, knew he was here, but hearing his name spoken so casually and so soon unnerved her. An advisor, no less. Did the king know Bredych was a stone keeper? She examined his eyes. There was no sign of any duplicity or intrigue.

  “Bredych?” she asked as casually as possible.

  “Yes. My only advisor for some years and a very wise, astute man.”

  And a murderer. “Is he in the castle?”

  Erhard smiled a strange smile. “No, he’s not, but he did say if you were to ask of him that he was eagerly waiting your arrival and hoped to develop a stronger association with you. Have you two met?”

  She fought the shudder forming in her spine. “No. But I believe we have or had acquaintances in common.”

  “Interesting. He never told me. Bredych has a manor not far from here. He guards his privacy as well as he guards my throne.”

  “You’re very confident of him.”

  “Yes. He has always looked out for my best interests.”

  Ilythra doubted the veracity of his statement but smiled.

  Erhard leaned back against his chair. “Please, try your wine, it’s excellent. We allow the grapes to freeze before harvesting and pressing. You’ll like it.” He took another sip. “The next question is obvious.” He smiled. “Although I’m delighted to welcome you, I am curious as to why you’re here.”

  Ilythra sipped her wine; it was good. “Curiosity.”

  “Ah, the affliction of the intelligent.” The fire popped and crackled as Erhard observed her. “Are all the legends about you true?” he finally asked.

  “I’d have to know all the legends to answer that, and I don’t.”

  “Wit and beauty.” He raised his glass. “But surely you’re aware of some of them.”

  Ilythra nodded. “Some.”

  He leaned back, his gaze roving her body. “You’re an enigma. You sit there, relaxed. Save for your dress—or lack of one—you could be any highborn woman at court, yet something tells me were I to step out of line, it could cost me my life.”

  “Not your life. I don’t kill needlessly. The price would be lower.” She allowed a smile to lift the corners of her mouth. “Only your manhood.”

  Erhard coughed on a sip of wine and then laughed. “Some might say that’s even a direr penalty.”

  “Some might.” She set down her wine. “So have I passed your test?” she asked when the king stopped laughing.

  “Indeed. You are forward...refreshing. This promises to be a more interesting winter than I first imagined.” He paused and raised an eyebrow. “I am assuming, having come so far, you’ll stay the winter. You are, of course, welcome. Here, so close to the Har Neider Mountains, the snows draw in like a thief at night, quick a
nd silent, isolating us from rest of the world. It is a very dangerous time to travel.”

  Ilythra stared into her goblet. She’d only taken a sip, yet she felt slightly dizzy. Was the wine drugged? Ilythra dismissed it. She was on edge. Erhard had poured the wine into their glasses from the same bottle and he didn’t appear to show any ill effects. “I did not plan to stay long.”

  “Hopefully long enough that I can sate your curiosity or learn what feeds it. But that’s a strange thing about people who are curious. They are never sated because there is always more to learn.”

  She was surprised to find she’d relaxed a little. “You are quite right.”

  Erhard sipped his wine. “It would be a pity to meet you but not get to know you better. For you see, now I suffer from the same affliction that you profess. I am undeniably curious about you. Perhaps tomorrow, you’ll let me start by showing you around the castle grounds. The views from the towers are nothing short of magnificent.”

  She wasn’t here for sightseeing or a tour of his property. But it wouldn’t do to insult the king. At least not until she’d met with Bredych. “I would like that. On the way here, I saw beautiful gardens.”

  “My late wife’s. She was from Hirion in the south. She could never get used to the mountains being so close. She used to say they were watching her.” He shrugged. “I had the garden planted to appease her. When you walk the paths, all you see are the trees and vines. You have to look for the mountains, and I don’t think she ever did. When she died, I maintained them because I found a measure of peace there as well. Of course, this isn’t the best season for it, but I will show them to you.”

  “Thank you. But I don’t want to distract you from your tasks.”

  “Some distractions are most welcome.” Erhard’s blue eyes twinkled. “Then it’s settled. Tomorrow I’ll give you a grand tour of this small part of my kingdom. But now, it’s late and you’ve had a long journey. Please do consider my offer. If you should need anything, ring. Cassia will take care of you.”

  “Yes, I’ve met her.”

  Erhard smiled, and Ilythra knew where she’d seen his particular color of eyes before: Cassia.

  He reached for her hand and again kissed it. “It has been a pleasure and I look very much forward to spending more time with you.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  He released her hand. “Please, none of that. Erhard.”

  “Very well, Erhard.”

  As though he had been listening outside, Konrad opened the door and bowed low. “I will show you back to your room.”

  Ilythra nodded to the king and followed the steward down one level and through the maze of passages. She reviewed the conversation. Nothing much had been said, yet she had the feeling something more had transpired beneath the surface. It had been an intriguing conversation. She thought she was going to like the king. But he is not why you’re here.

  “Cassia will see to any needs.” Konrad held open the door to her chamber.

  “Thank you.”

  Ilythra shut the door and leaned against it, feeling like somehow she’d survived something more than a conversation with the king.

  * * *

  “She’s here.” Her voice trembled slightly.

  Eagerness or fear? “I know.” Bredych rose from the chair and walked toward the servant. “Did you take care of everything I asked you to do?”

  “Yes.”

  He touched her check. “Good.”

  “She’s not like what I expected.” Her gaze held a question.

  “Then you’ve learned the error of assumption.” He sat back in his chair.

  The girl looked confused. “She’s young.”

  “Yes.”

  “And pretty.”

  “Without a doubt,” he agreed.

  The girl stood for another moment as though she’d say more.

  Bredych sighed and waved his hand. “That’s all, Cassia. You can go now.”

  Her pale blue eyes flared for a moment before she lowered her gaze to the floor. “Yes, milord.”

  Bredych watched her walk away. The girl’s anger was useful, but her tendency to act as though they were equals was unacceptable.

  He returned to the papers on his desk, but the formulas blurred and he closed his eyes. Ilythra. I can sense your impatience. A trait you haven’t had time to overcome. Don’t worry. Soon, very soon, child. We’ll meet.

  * * *

  Flames burned brightly in the hearth, and a newly stack piled of wood rested against the wall near the fire. Ilythra moved to the bed and felt under the coverlet. Yes, warm. Royal treatment, she was sure. She turned a slow circle. Her satchel, sword and staff lay in the same position she’d left them, but something about the room had changed. She shrugged. Of course it had—someone had been in to warm the sheets and stoke the fire. She ran her hand over her eyes, catching Erhard’s lingering scent. He seemed out of place in this small kingdom somehow. Certainly he lived better than his subjects.

  So, Bredych was not even at the castle but had left her a message. Interesting. If he had wanted to surprise her, it had worked. She was almost glad he’d delayed his appearance. Her mind felt sluggish as though she’d drunk too much wine. What I get for drinking on an empty stomach. The bed did look inviting. How long had it been since she’d slept in a real bed? Jartas? She hadn’t slept much in that kingdom. She stared toward the darkened window. Mohan. How was he doing?

  Her arrival at Greton was a little anticlimactic at best. She’d expected an immediate showdown and instead she got one of the most luxurious rooms she’d ever seen. Tomorrow, she’d take the grand tour and find out how long until Bredych returned.

  Ilythra touched the ivory coverlet embroidered with small birds of every imaginable shade. She undressed, hanging her clothes to air. The water in the pitcher was cold, but she quickly washed and then, naked, pulled up the coverlet and slipped underneath, reveling in the fabric’s soft caress of her body.

  After placing her sword within easy reach and her knife under her pillow, she stretched under the warm blanket and brought the pillow to her nose, breathing in the pleasant fragrance. A few days of luxury wouldn’t hurt. She wanted to make the experience last, but she was tired. The dancing flames and their warmth soon lulled her to sleep.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “It’s amazing.” The wind whipped Ilythra’s hair free from its braid. Tendrils tickled her face and evaded her efforts to keep them tucked behind her ears. King Erhard had taken her to the top of the keep, the highest point of the castle, as the grand finale of his tour. She’d seen the armory, the great halls, the kitchens and the throne room, but nothing impressed her as much as the view from the heights. Below, as far as the eye could see, deep green forests surrounded them, even climbing up the sides of the mountain until rock and ice fended them off. It was a wild, beautiful country. And isolated.

  The lake behind the castle seemed like a sapphire in a field of emeralds, its edges sprinkled with golden sand and softened by tall reeds. She squinted against the glare. A third of the lake was inside the outer wall, the rest outside.

  She turned to find Erhard staring at her. He was taller than she’d thought. Her head barely reached his chest. “In my father’s time, we built the dam as part of the outer wall,” Erhard explained. He was watching her reactions closely.

  “The wall separates the lake,” Ilythra said.

  Erhard shook his head. “Not entirely. Tunnels pierce the wall below the surface to allow water to pass through. Heavily grated, of course.”

  “The dam is for defensive purposes? To protect against siege?”

  “Both. Should a spy risk entrance that way, he’d drown before getting through the grate. And we can close the tunnels from this side. In the event of a siege, we have a water source.

 
“You seem well prepared for such a thing.”

  Erhard smiled. “I can sense your mind at work behind your questions. No, we are not frequently at war, and I do not have knowledge of impending attack, but you can never be too cautious when it comes to protecting your throne.”

  “I’ve never had one to protect, Majesty.”

  His pale eyes twinkled. “Please, follow me. I think you’ll like this.” He led her to the other side of the keep.

  Below her was a garden, now bright with fall foliage. From her position, she could see dozens of trails wandering through the shrubbery and dormant roses. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Would you like to see the garden?”

  “Am I keeping you from your duties?”

  Erhard bowed, a lock of silver hair falling over his forehead. “What’s the use of being king if you can’t take a day of leisure now and then?”

  Ilythra laughed. The longer she spent with Erhard, the more she enjoyed being with him, but socializing with a king was not why she was in Greton. “I would like that very much, but perhaps later.” She made her way around the perimeter of the keep and glanced at Erhard. The golden fields she’d seen behind the village gleamed against the darkness of the forest.

  “Go ahead, ask. I already know when you have a question in your eyes.”

  “Then I’m not very subtle.”

  “It’s refreshing to have a conversation without sifting through subtleties and double meanings.” He gazed at her with appreciation in his eyes. “How a woman can both be forthright and fascinatingly mysterious is beyond me.” He laughed. “I don’t mean to distract you. Please, continue.”

  Was he flattering her, or did he mean it? She mentally shook herself. This king was in cohorts with a stone keeper. The stone keeper who ransacked a village looking for her and killed people she loved. She couldn’t let herself be sidetracked. “Your villages are very poor.”

 

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