“Good morning, Your Highness.” Ilythra bowed. “And what brings you out so early?”
He grinned. “I knew you’d be here if you felt better. You are, aren’t you?”
“Feeling better, or here?” Ilythra smiled at the look of confusion then dawning realization on Erhard’s face. “Yes to both. How long have you been waiting?”
He smiled. “A king doesn’t wait. I lingered.”
“Then I hope you haven’t lingered long.”
“It was but a heartbeat when I saw your face.” His blue eyes twinkled.
“I see.”
Erhard stepped closer. His tone lowered. “I missed you last night.”
A wave of nausea hit her hard. Ilythra looked up into Erhard’s earnest blue eyes.
“Were you going to ride?” he asked.
“I was going to try today.”
“To ride that creature?” Lines formed between his eyebrows.
“Yes. I think he’s ready.”
“Then I’ll join you.”
“Of course.” Ilythra moved down the corridor to Melior. The horse whinnied at her approach. “Did you miss me too? Seems I have no lack of male admirers lately,” she added for Melior’s ears only. Moving slowly, she slipped a halter over his head then led him into the corral. “Do you want to go for a run? I bet you’ve hated being cramped in the stall or in this corral.”
Melior nipped at her pocket.
“You’re a smart one.” Ilythra reached for a piece of carrot then held it out for Melior. She led him around the corral, one hand thrown across his back, the other holding his halter. He was ready.
Melior’s ears twitched, and then his nostrils flared. Ilythra looked up. Erhard led his horse toward them. As he approached, Melior shied away, snorting.
“What’s wrong, boy? That’s just Erhard. He’s a friend.”
Melior pranced, breathing heavily through his nose as though he was pretending to be a bull.
“Ready to ride? He doesn’t look ready for anything.” Erhard swung up on his horse. He didn’t try to keep the scorn from his voice.
“I don’t understand.” Ilythra tried to calm Melior, but he pulled away until they were on the opposite side of the corral from Erhard. The horse quieted but he was tense, on alert. What was wrong with him? “Shh.” She tried to soothe the stallion, but he only became more restless.
“I don’t think you’ll be riding that one today,” Erhard called.
“You’re right.” Ilythra continued to stroke the horse’s neck. Was it the presence of another rider, or Erhard the horse was reacting to? “Come on, Mel. I’ll take you back to your stall. Bosky will give you some grain.” Ilythra turned over her shoulder to Erhard. “I’ll grab another horse. Give me a minute?”
Erhard waved his hand as if to say he had all the time in the world.
* * *
Ilythra raced up the stairs. She had spent more time with Erhard than she’d meant to and there wasn’t time to go into the village. She’d promised Aclan she’d watch him with his new tutor, and today seemed like a good day. She’d have plenty of time to come back to her room and dress for dinner.
She paused before her door then took a deep breath and opened it. “Most men wait for an invitation before they enter a woman’s bedroom.”
Bredych rose from the chair. “I’m not most men.”
That was certainly true. “And what if Cassia or one of the other servants found you here?”
He shrugged. “I am the king’s advisor. I’ve come to counsel you.”
“What do you want, Bredych?”
“I thought that I made that obvious.” A half smile moved his mouth.
“Here? Now?”
“An invitation?”
Despite her best control, warmth spread down her belly, followed by disgust. “It won’t happen again.”
“And if I just want to talk?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Is it so hard to believe?” He raised both hands, palms up.
“You don’t do anything without a motive.” She leaned against the doorway.
He smiled. “And if my motive is simply to get to know you?”
“You seem to think you already do.”
“Then allow me to test my theory? We are stuck here together until the spring. We will have to learn how to get along.”
Ilythra moved to sit on the chair opposite Bredych. “No. I don’t know what it is, but I know you have a game.”
He leaned over, poured a glass of wine and handed it to her then sat. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Are you going to tell me where the Siobani are?” She ignored the wine.
“Though you look beautiful in a dress, I prefer you like this. More natural. More...you. Have you always dressed this way?”
He was ignoring her. “Yes.” No. Had she? Why did loose tunics and ocean breezes come to mind?
Bredych looked at the window then back to Ilythra. He reached toward her and grasped her braid, pulling it over her shoulder and stroking the length. “Like silk.”
“Don’t touch me.” Ilythra struggled to control her breathing.
“Deep in the far south, past the deserts but before the waters turn cold, there lives a race of people with dark skin and darker eyes. The women wear only skirts wrapped around their waists but their hair, their hair is their glory. They grow it long and wear it braided as you do. Once they are of age, they choose a mate and it is this mate and no other who can unravel their braid.”
She stared at him, but her resolve was weakening.
“I’ve spent many years, more than you’ve been alive, traveling the land, learning the people.”
The People. Memory cut through the fog in her brain. She stiffened, anger coursing through her veins. “I’ve already witnessed your dealings with one such people and I can’t say I was impressed. A trader? I’m sure that’s an interesting story.”
“It is.” He set his glass down. “I will not presume to play with words. We are both too intelligent to not see through a ruse. Suffice it to say, in the Faisach, you stumbled into the middle of a rather complex story. You do not know the beginnings and for reasons of my own, I wish to not tell you. Therefore, you are not qualified to judge my actions.”
Not qualified to judge his actions? Her anger burned away more of the fog.
Ilythra opened her mouth then shut it when Bredych raised a hand. “I propose again, until one or both of us choose to break it, a truce within the walls of this castle.” His black gaze bore into hers. “It would be illogical and a charade to pretend that we are ordinary people, but I will not question your motives. Do not question mine. I will not voice my reservations with how you use the power allotted you, and you will not air yours about mine.”
Ilythra examined Bredych’s eyes. He appeared sincere. She shouldn’t trust him. She wouldn’t trust him, but if she got him to talk, to relax, maybe he would slip up and give her a clue as to the Siobani’s whereabouts. It was worth a shot. And she couldn’t deny that the man challenged her on a level she didn’t understand. “Very well. Accepted.”
He raised his glass.
“Will you tell me more of your travels?”
“Do you not expect to travel yourself?”
“To the ends of Anatar if I have to. It would be nice to know what to expect.”
“Very well. Mmm, I think you will like this. In the Tianith Mountains along the western coast, there lives a cloister of monks. These monks are unusual, as they are all blind.” He glanced at Ilythra. “When they walk the mountain paths, you can hear them for wheels. Tap, tap, tap. The sound of their canes hitting rock trails in rhythm becomes a melody. The mountain is their instrument.”
“They’re all blind?” She leaned forw
ard.
“Yes. They have acolytes, of course, who take care of visitors and day-to-day needs. But the monks are all blind, however, not from birth. I don’t know if they’d accept a man born blind. You see, once an acolyte has completed his time with the monks, he must decide to either leave or become a monk. And to become one, he must give up his sight.”
Ilythra sipped her wine. “Why?”
“It is part of their belief. They believe you cannot truly see unless you are blind. True vision is not of the eyes.” They sat in silence for a moment. Then Bredych stood. “It is the dinner hour and I must go.”
Ilythra rose, glancing out the window. The sun was in the west.
He smiled as though he could read her thoughts. “If you should need me...” He smiled. “I won’t be coy. If you should need me, I’ll know.”
* * *
Mohan swung down from the wagon, buttoning the bright yellow vest over the striped blue shirt and whistling to himself. From the smells in the air, the women had already begun breakfast. He glanced at the sun. He wasn’t late; they were a little early. He walked toward the large bonfire, careful to not slip on the ice hidden in the shadows of the wagon. A few days before, snow had dusted the caravan, and some had complained that they’d left the warmer lands too soon. They were right, but instinct told him to have his caravan close. What he planned was tantamount to suicide. He had Taliba’s support—and no one contradicted the wise woman.
A few of the women raised their hands in greeting and smiled. Mohan smiled back then veered course when he noticed Byula was among them. The woman had a daughter of marriageable age and had set her sights on Mohan. It would be quite a coup for her family to be joined with his. Mohan wasn’t in the mood to fend off the mother’s advances on behalf of the daughter and decided to check on the horses immediately. He approached the corral and an image of Tashi, as he first saw her in the glen, superimposed on his sight.
This morning, they camped on the kingdom of Etan’s border. The territory east of Etan belonged to another family of Benai. Although the Benai frequently crossed one another’s territories, they didn’t stay or camp for longer than necessary and never for as long as his people would have to wait for him. Here was where they’d part ways.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ilythra smiled. Bredych was demonstrating for her how the baiku beasts on the island of Cree walked. The late winter sun warmed the wooden floors and brought dark red highlights out in Bredych’s hair. The day after their truce, the king informed her he’d be busy all day, so Bredych offered to keep her company. The king readily agreed.
A cold breeze brushed her skin. She readjusted the blanket across her lap. Bredych had insisted the window remained open. “And they’re beasts of burden?”
He straightened. “Yes. But I’ve ridden one. A disagreeable experience, I can assure you.” Bredych aped the loping walk once more.
“If someone came in now, they’d think you were quite mad.”
He neared and touched her cheek. “No one can.” He smiled and sat next to her. “I am the keeper of Crioch, the stone of Dominion. Don’t you know what that means? Right now, I dictate who will and will not open that door. No one will touch it.”
“For how long?” A flicker of interest kindled. Now she was getting somewhere.
“Until I say otherwise.”
Ilythra leaned forward. “Will they know why?”
“No, and it won’t cross their minds to wonder.”
“Is it a strain? How long can you keep it up?”
His smiled changed flavor. “Do you want to try and find out?”
She ignored the double meaning behind his words. “Something so simple. I’d never have imagined...but it makes sense.” What can Ilydearta do? I don’t even know my own stone. And what else can your stone do, Bredych? Can you control the weather?
Bredych sighed. “Poor Ilythra. Zeynel really didn’t teach you anything about the stone’s power, did he?”
Ilythra started. She knew he couldn’t read her mind, but the question was still startling. How dare he ask it? Anger pooled in her stomach. “He taught me as much as he could before his life was cut short.” Her voice had gained an edge.
“He taught you of Teann, of rhythms and submission. He taught you nothing of power, of the wonder.”
“He taught me the responsibilities that come with being a keeper.”
“Responsibilities? Such as?” He glanced at the open window.
“Guiding, protecting, teaching...” She stumbled over her words. What would Bredych teach the people of Anatar? A wave of disorientation washed over her mind. “Zeynel said the stones were suppose to guide the people of Anatar—”
Bredych waved his hand. “I’ve had enough of this subject. It’s time I took my leave.” He moved toward the window.
“Have you?” Did he think he could brush her off like one of the servants? “I think you’re jealous.”
“Of what?” He shut the window harder than necessary.
“The Siobani.”
“If such a people exist, why would I be jealous?” The line of his face hardened.
“Why won’t you admit they do?”
He shrugged.
“You’re in exile, aren’t you?”
Anger hardened Bredych’s eyes. “Be careful.”
A thrill rushed through her body as though she’d held her breath and was just now breathing. “I think you are jealous because they have something you never will. Respect.”
“I have all the respect I need.” His dark eyes gleamed.
“You’re not using the stone as it was created to be used. You’re a pretender.”
His nostrils flared. “And you would know that how? Your mentor failed to teach you anything about what the stones do.”
He did...what had Zeynel said? “I’m sure he would have gotten to it if he hadn’t died protecting me from your manipulations on the Faisach.” She spoke slowly, giving each word weight.
“Please, you were his tool. An object to use. Zeynel guarded his wisdom far more than I ever have. You spent, what, a season with him? Perhaps two? And how much did he teach you? He fed you piecemeal when you should have sated yourself, bathed in the knowledge, in the power.”
He could have told her more. Confusion darkened her thoughts. “He was helping me with my quest the best way he knew how.”
“Your quest? You’ve got to kidding. Since when had it been your quest? Were you given a choice?”
“I chose to come here.” Her confidence faltered.
“To Greton? Or to wander the land without a home? I wonder.”
“Don’t.” She struggled to fuel the anger. This was the man who had killed Zeynel. Who had saved her. Who left Shandor to die. Who offered her power. “Everyone has a purpose. This is mine.”
“The great purpose, a quest, a dream.” His gaze intensified. “Sounds noble. And lonely.”
If she let him, Bredych could open up the world to her, open her eyes to things she didn’t even know to imagine. “I...if you don’t dream—”
“Perhaps, when it’s your dream. But you were never given the chance to choose your own dream. What do you truly want, Ilythra? To continue wandering your life away, regurgitating the dreams you’ve been spoon-fed? And you call me a manipulator.”
She struggled to hold on to a truth. “The stones must be reunited for Anatar to be whole.”
Bredych froze and then laughed. “Is that what they said? You’ve traveled enough of Anatar to see, to make your own opinion. Does Anatar look fragmented to you?”
Sights and sounds tumbled through Ilythra’s memory. Families working under the sun together. Mothers playing with children. No. A wave of disorientation hit her. Her stomach twisted.
“Have you ever wondered why Zeynel wa
nted to find the other stones?” He neared. “To restore some lost hierarchy? Do the people of Anatar need to be servants to a master? That’s what the Siobani would do. Subjugate them.”
No. He’d killed. Danladi. Shandor. “The Faisach.” Her voice cracked.
“Fine. Out with it.” His eyes blazed. “You and Zeynel stumbled on to something that reached farther than those barbarians in the Faisach. You got caught in the crossfire.” Bredych moved to the fire. He selected a fragile blue vase and held it to the light of the fire, then replaced it. “How long can we continue dancing around the issue? I know who you are and I am very well aware you know who I am.” He trailed his fingers over the woodwork. “You have much potential, but you need a mentor. A real one.” His eyes were like black ice, peering into her soul. “You know I can be generous.” He stepped forward and kneeled before her, his voice a whisper. “I can show you things you’ve never imagined. I can give you a taste of immortality and power. Together, you and I couldn’t be stopped by any force in this world. You’ve tasted it—I know you want it. You don’t have to please Zeynel any more. You are no longer under the thumb of a weakling who couldn’t admit his time had long gone. He lived through you, like a parasite. He’s dead. It’s your turn. Please yourself. Join with me.”
His words created a tension in her that built until she thought she might explode with the weight of them. Ilythra slapped Bredych hard.
His expression didn’t change. “Not very ladylike of you, but then, what did I expect?” He took a deep breath, a half smile playing on his mouth. “I can’t say I didn’t try. So be it.” He turned and left the room.
* * *
Ilythra sat as if frozen. The palm that slapped Bredych burned. The other was ice cold. He was gone. Unreleased sobs shuddered through her body, but she couldn’t cry. She was completely empty. There was nothing left. If he had known her body had reacted without her knowledge, she wasn’t sure he would have left. And if he had lingered... Tears formed in her eyes but didn’t fall.
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