“I. Don’t. Care.” Selene seethed. She was done with this. “If you kill Renata, I will hunt you down in your own dream world.” A small part of her was shocked. She was threatening her own mother! Another part of her didn’t care. She would perform her duty for House Ravenwood and their people. But she would do it on her own terms, until she found out the real reason for their gift, and a way to free them from this accursed cycle of murder.
Her mother sniffed. “I have more experience than you.”
Selene lifted her chin. “I have more power than you, and you know it. I would win in the end.”
For the first time ever, Selene watched fear enter her mother’s eyes. Good. Her threat was not idle.
Her mother looked down at the prone figure of Renata. “Fine, keep the girl. But she will be in your care, not mine.” With that, her mother spun around and left the room.
The moment her mother was gone, Selene collapsed onto her knees. She pressed a cold hand to her forehead. “What am I doing?” she whispered. “What kind of person am I becoming?” Perhaps there was no escaping who she was. After all, she had just threatened to kill her own mother. Maybe I am a murderer.
But I don’t want to be.
She looked up at the low ceiling. Some of the other nations believed in gods in some form. There were even whispers that a few of the houses still served the old god. House Ravenwood believed in neither, only in the Dark Lady, and even then Selene wasn’t sure if she was real. But then where did their power come from?
“Please,” she whispered. “If any of you are real, please show me what to do, and who I am. And . . .” She glanced back at Renata and her heart twisted. “Please heal Renata. Please.”
9
Damien Maris smiled as he raised his sword and faced Taegis. The older man did the same. Without a second’s pause, Damien advanced first.
Taegis blocked, then countered with his own move.
Damien sensed the movement a split second before his guardian lunged and deflected, then returned with a move of his own.
Thrust, parry, block.
The training room rang with the sounds of their swords and breathing. Sunlight streamed through the high windows on either side of the room, spreading light across the worn wooden floor. Practice swords and a jug of water sat on the table near the doorway. Although the training room was large enough to accommodate as many as ten men sparring, today only Damien and Taegis practiced.
Damien wiped the sweat from his face and brought his arms and sword back into a ready stance. Taegis did the same thing.
“Ready, or do you need a break?” Damien asked with a smirk.
Taegis grinned back, the scar along his right cheek more pronounced against his flushed face. “I’m not so old that I need to breathe between practices. Remember, I’ve been doing this since before you were born.”
“All right, then.” Damien lunged forward, going for the opening to Taegis’s left. Taegis blocked, and they began sparring again.
Sweat soaked into Damien’s tunic and down his back. He pushed himself until his muscles were stretched and limber. Although over twenty years his senior, Taegis could hold his own against Damien, something Damien admired.
“Message for Lord Damien.”
Damien paused, his sword up, and glanced at the doorway at the other end of the training room. One of the couriers from the tower stood in the archway. Damien wiped his face and lowered his weapon. “Excuse me for a moment, Taegis.”
Taegis nodded and lowered his own weapon.
Damien crossed the room and placed his sword on the table, then reached for the small rolled piece of parchment the courier held out.
“A raven from Rook Castle arrived minutes ago with this attached to its leg. Since we receive so little communication from House Ravenwood, I thought you would want to see it right away.”
Damien took the small paper from the young man. “Yes, thank you.”
The courier gave him a short bow before he left the same way he came. Damien continued to stand by the doorway, studying the paper. Instead of the usual insignia of Ravenwood stamped into the soft wax, there was no insignia. So it wasn’t official news from House Ravenwood, which meant it was probably from Caiaphas, Lady Ragna Ravenwood’s consort. Damien reached for the dagger at his side and slid the point through the slit and wax.
After a quick glance, he saw he was right.
Taegis came to stand beside him.
“Caiaphas wants to meet in person.” He glanced over at his guardian. Taegis had served House Maris since Damien’s father had first been named grand lord, and now served Damien in the same way. His honey-colored hair, streaked with grey, was pulled back in a short braid, and his beard was carefully trimmed.
His hazel eyes glanced at the paper in Damien’s hand, then at Damien. “I’m still not sure if Caiaphas can be trusted. He has been with House Ravenwood for many years.”
“But he’s been part of the coalition for even longer. And was a good friend of Father’s.”
“I advise caution, Lord Damien, the same advice I gave your father years ago. Though Caiaphas is originally from one of the lesser houses of Vivek, he is now part of House Ravenwood. And Ravenwood is not to be trusted.”
Damien rolled up the paper. “I will consider your words. But I also wish to meet with him. He may know something about the recent bout of murders within House Luceras and the rumors about the Dominia Empire. Perhaps he may have even discovered something within House Ravenwood.”
Taegis crossed his arms. “You know Caiaphas cannot divulge any of House Ravenwood’s secrets if Lady Ragna has silenced him.”
“I know. But the whole reason he married into the Ravenwood family was to find out what he could. At least that’s what Father said. Perhaps that is why he wants to meet.”
Taegis shook his head. “I wish the leadership of the coalition had been placed on someone else. You are the last heir to House Maris. If something were to happen to you . . .”
“I know.” Damien sighed. “But the houses are fracturing more and more as the years go by and secrets are keeping us apart. We barely survived the last razing by the Dominia Empire. We won’t survive another one.”
“And you really think the empire is on the move?”
“Yes.” Damien crushed the paper in his fist. “The skirmishes along the eastern wall are simply a test by the empire to see how the Great Houses react. If the empire chose right now to invade, we would all be wiped out. It’s only the wall—and the efforts of House Vivek and House Friere—that keep the empire at bay. The Great Houses need to unite, like we were when the nations first formed, even if we no longer possess one of the gifts the Light bestowed upon us.”
“Your father thought the same way.” Taegis smiled sadly. “I’m glad to see his will is strong in you.”
Damien breathed in deeply and stared down at the crumpled paper in his hand. “It’s not easy. I never thought I would become grand lord until I was much older.”
Taegis reached over and placed a callused hand on Damien’s shoulder. “You are strong in mind, body, and spirit. And you lead your people well.”
“Thank you, Taegis. I think I’m going to end our sparring for today and—”
Another messenger from the tower burst into the training room. “Message for Lord Damien!” he panted and held out another rolled piece of parchment. “Urgent, from House Vivek.”
Damien glanced at Taegis as he took the rolled piece of paper. Taegis looked as uneasy as Damien felt. Damien broke the official seal of House Vivek that was stamped into the wax and opened the letter.
A dozen ships have been spotted off the Cliffs of Bora with the insignia of the Dominia Empire. You and your people are in danger. You must raise the water boundary immediately before they reach your shores.
Lord Rune
Damien glanced at the date at the top. House Vivek used doves as their carriers, which meant the note was almost a day old. It would take the empire’s fleet at least t
wo days to reach a suitable beach to land on, if that was their plan, and two more to reach the city of Nor Esen and Northwind Castle.
Damien wrinkled his brow, his mind calculating the distance between Nor Esen, the speed of his ship, and the empire’s fleet. If he left now, it would be close, but he could reach the area where he could raise the sea boundary and block the empire’s fleet from landing. If not . . .
He shook his head. It would take too long to mobilize his own fleet. Raising the boundary was his only option.
“Lord Damien?” Taegis said quietly.
Damien looked up and realized he had been silent for a while. The messenger stood nearby, ready for orders.
“Lucas, I need you to run down to the port and tell Captain Stout that I need the Ros Marinus ready to sail immediately.”
“Yes, my lord.” Lucas bowed, then left.
Damien turned toward Taegis. “It is as we feared. The Dominia Empire is on the move. One of House Vivek’s outposts along the Cliffs of Bora spotted a small fleet with the Dominia Empire’s crest sailing our way.”
“So the empire is going around the wall and coming by sea?”
“As far as we know, the empire does not have a large enough fleet to take all of us by water. I think Commander Orion is testing our defenses. A fleet that size could do little against all seven Great Houses. But it could hurt the Northern Shores if allowed to land.” Damien placed a hand on the table where his sword lay. “That is how the empire almost won last time—not by facing all of us, but by picking off each house one by one.”
Taegis pulled at the end of his beard. “Are you going to raise the sea boundary? Is that why you have Captain Stout preparing your ship?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think you’re ready?”
Damien turned and stared out of the window. It was one thing to move water or to raise a river—it was another thing to raise the entire sea boundary. His father had been able to do it, but his father had also had years of experience with their gift, whereas Damien had only been grand lord and sole heir of House Maris for less than two years. Those years had not been idle, though. He spent every day moving the sea and honing his gift. It was time to see if he could really protect his people. “I guess we’ll find out.”
A half hour later, the Ros Marinus sailed out of the harbor and into open sea. Damien stood at the bow and scanned the waters ahead. Grey clouds gathered above, snuffing out the sunlight from earlier.
“Clouds gather, but I don’t foresee a storm at this point, my lord,” Captain Stout said, coming to join him at the bow.
“That’s good.” A storm would complicate things. With this cloud coverage, all it would take was the wind picking up and a bit of rain to create turbulent weather. Hopefully they would be at the boundary by then. He didn’t care what happened afterward, just as long as he had the boundary in place before the enemy fleet arrived.
Damien breathed in the sea air and closed his eyes. He listened as wave after wave crashed against the bow. He had only raised river boundaries, and those had been only for practice. This would be his first time raising the sea boundary.
“Worried?” Taegis said beside him.
Damien hesitated, then opened his eyes. “Perhaps a little.”
Taegis leaned against the railing next to him and looked out over the grey waters. “I remember when I saw your father raise the sea boundary for the first time. I had never seen such a thing. That a man could raise his hands and the sea would respond.”
Damien nodded. The first time he had raised a river, a feeling of euphoria had filled him. He could still remember how his hands felt weighed down, even though nothing sat in his palms. And how the river responded to his movement, rising up like a wall of water, reaching as high as the trees. Then, with a twist of his wrist, he locked the wall in place, effectively blocking anyone from the other side of the river from crossing. Of course, he only kept it up for a couple of weeks. It was all he could do.
He looked down at his hands. Since then, he had trained hard with his father, then alone, to make sure he was ready for this day: the day he would be called upon to protect his people with his mastery over water, the gift that had been given to his family over a millennia ago.
“I believe you can do it.”
Damien glanced over at Taegis. The wind pulled at the older man’s hair, tugging strands from the leather strip that held his hair back. Damien had known Taegis all his life; his earliest memories were of his father and Taegis laughing in the main hall over dinner. When his father died, Taegis became Damien’s counselor, guardian, and friend, guiding him along the path of grand lord, teaching him the things his father would have when he was older.
To everyone else, Damien was Lord Maris, grand lord of the Northern Shores. To Taegis, he had a feeling he was the son the older man never had. And that suited him.
Taegis stepped back from the railing. “I don’t think you’ve eaten all day. Come, let’s find something for the both of us. This ship won’t sail any faster with you standing here.”
Damien straightened. “You’re right.” He would need all of his strength once they reached the place where he would raise the sea boundary. He cast one more look over the bow.
Water, as far as the eye could see.
Then he turned and followed Taegis.
Another wave hit the ship, spraying salt water up along the deck. Damien held on to the railing and let his body follow the movement of the ship. Thick dark clouds covered the sky blending in with the raging sea below.
The sea salt stung his face, and the wind pulled at his leather cloak. A rope was tied around his waist, a precaution should a wave prove too strong and try to sweep him overboard. Damien wiped his eyes and kept his gaze ahead, his gloved fingers curled around the wooden railing. The storm broke an hour ago, slowing them down just before the boundary. Hopefully that meant the empire’s fleet had been slowed as well.
Another wave crested, sending the ship up for a moment, then plummeting down. Damien held on tight, feeling his insides move up into his throat, then rush down toward his middle. Quinn would have never been able to handle this storm. The slightest movement on the sea always made his little brother seasick.
An ache filled his chest, and Damien swallowed the lump inside his throat. Less than two years later and still the memories of his brother and parents affected him.
I need to focus. He pushed aside the feelings and breathed through his nose while he readjusted his feet. Right now, his people needed him.
The Ros Marinus pushed on through the storm. Once again Damien was thankful that Captain Stout was an excellent seaman and knew these waters well. Even so, if the welfare of the entire Northern Shores wasn’t at stake, they would have turned back hours ago and sailed for cover until the weather passed.
A burst of wind hit the ship, sending Damien’s cloak and hood flying back. Rain poured down, soaking his woolen clothes within minutes. He grit his teeth against the cold and tugged his cloak back around him. Even without the shore to tell him where they were, he knew they were close. He could feel it.
Moments later, one of the sailors crossed the deck to where he stood. “Captain Stout is preparing to drop the drogue and slow us down a bit,” the sailor shouted. “With the weather the way it is, it’s not possible to stop.”
“That’s fine,” Damien shouted back. “I can raise the boundary from here.”
“Yes, my lord. I shall inform the captain.” The sailor made his way back.
Damien took a deep breath and planted his feet. Far off, a dark image appeared, darker than the storm clouds, riding along the waves. He narrowed his eyes. There was more than one.
The Dominia Empire’s fleet.
His stomach hardened into a lead ball while his heart climbed into his throat, racing so fast it felt like it would burst out of him. Waves of adrenaline washed over him, leaving his body shivering and sweaty.
He only had minutes before the ships crossed the boundary.
>
Damien focused on the water between his ship and theirs. He pictured a line running between them. That was where he would raise the boundary.
“Light, Maker of Worlds,” he whispered as he bent his knees and hunched down while raising his hands, palms up. “I bring before you my gift. Let me raise the water here and help me protect my people.”
At once it felt like a heavy weight had settled across his hands, extending upward toward his arms, shoulders, and back, a weight so heavy that he could barely hold it. Every tendon bulged as sweat streamed down his face, mingling with the salt water and rain. The sea boundary was at least twice as heavy as any river boundary he had ever raised.
Damien closed his eyes and remembered all the days he spent on a cliff overlooking the sea, raising and lowering the waters. Time he had spent in communion with the Light and strengthening his gift.
He braced his body and prepared to raise the waters. His muscles screamed under the continual load. He panted and opened his eyes. The fleet was closer, close enough that he could see the outline of the leading ship. At this rate, they would get caught in the torrent when he raised the boundary.
What do I do? He grit his teeth and stared at the approaching ships. I don’t want to kill them. But . . . I don’t have a choice. I need to raise the boundary. To protect my own people.
Damien took a deep breath, his stomach heavy inside. Don’t think, just act. One. Two. Three—
“Light, help me!” he shouted, his legs and back exploding up as he raised his arms upward. Along with his movement, the ocean in front of him shot up as well in an explosive display of water and spray. Within moments, a wall of water over a hundred feet high towered across the sea and spread rapidly left to right, tearing through the water like a fin.
He held fast on the deck, his hands raised, feeling the water rush as it surrounded the shores of his country.
Waves began to hit the ship as the ocean rebounded off of the newly made wall. Damien took a step back, keeping his balance and continuing to hold his hands up. Rain came down, pelting the deck and his body.
Mark of the Raven Page 8