Chapter One
I awoke the next morning still pillowed on Brial’s warm chest. He was sleeping, his chest rising rhythmically beneath my cheek. Slowly, so as not to wake him, I rose upon my elbows.
Since the battle at Asphodel, I had fallen into the habit of watching him as he slept. It was a reverent activity for me; I could look upon him and admire his beauty without facing those wicked, glittering black eyes that could still throw my mind into a whirl. In those first weeks, the debilitation that was the aftereffect of magic had kept me inactive. Brial had spent much of his time caring for me. When he was awake, those deep eyes clouded with concern. When he was asleep, the ebony velvet of his eyes hid behind smooth lids and a dark fan of lashes. I could watch him quietly; thankful he had been spared to me.
Now I watched him for different reasons. Our relationship, while loving, was always contentious. My husband was strong-willed and I was bad-tempered. Those early morning moments of peace were a balm to me when I felt troubled. Brial was a gift to me. He brought me a deep, quiet joy…and many arguments.
These few moments of privacy and reprieve would be the last we would have for some time. Later this morning, we would march to Geochon and retake the capital of our beleaguered kingdom. I snuggled back down into my place on his chest.
“Awake already, cariad?” His voice rumbled in my ear, still sleepy but amused.
“Of course. Some of us don’t sleep until
He chuckled. I felt him stretch his limbs as he roused to full wakefulness, and I suppressed a sigh. I wanted nothing more than to lie here with him, cuddled in his arms for long hours while we talked. Such laziness was a luxury we’d had on very few mornings since our vialigatis; I knew they would be even fewer in the weeks ahead.
“I’ll make some tea,” I offered, tilting my face up to plant a kiss on his smooth cheek.
I sat up and pushed my snarled, silvery hair from my face. I still hated it, this mark of the magic within me, but Brial liked it. He reached up and wrapped one long, tangled curl around his fingers, tugging me back to him for another kiss.
Brial released me, and then sat up when I turned to call flames back into the Elfstones on the hearth.
I put a small traveling kettle on the stones, filled it with water from the barrel, and dug a small pouch of herbal tea from my pack. While the water heated, I sliced bread and toasted it. That, along with some fruit, would serve as our meal. We ate in companionable silence. Brial ducked out to talk to the others, while I tidied up and brushed the tangles from my long hair.
I dressed, fastened my long, fur-lined winter cloak around my neck and wound my hair tightly around my head in thick braids. By the time he returned, I was packing the last of our belongings into the saddlebags.
“It’s snowing again.” He brushed white powder from the shoulders of his cloak. “We will have a long, cold ride.”
I didn’t reply as he lifted the saddlebags to his shoulder. I did not really care for snow.
The winter was still in its infancy. Light snow drifted over the encampment and hung like a misty cloud over the grey smudge of the
My great friend, Anner de Ceolliune, had taken command of Callat’s army and with our men from Asphodel had rebuilt it. We were leaving the majority of these men to hold the border of Ansienne against an attack from the neighboring
Our friends had commandeered the royal tent, now deprived of its original occupant. I ducked my head under the flap Brial held for me and, as I entered, the men around the heavy table rose to their feet.
Anner, Duke of Ceolliune, bowed to me with the innate grace that marked his quiet courtesy. His grey eyes smiled at me, while across from him Mylan and Glaucon, his best friends, grinned in welcome. Mariol looked at me searchingly from his chair next to the brazier, and then glanced at Brial. From the corner of my eye, I saw my husband nod at him as I pushed the hood back from my hair.
“Well, gentlemen, are we ready to go?”
We’ve brought more than a thousand men to secure this border,” Anner said, reverting to business. “More should be on their way. Five hundred others will travel with us to Geochon, including some of the men Jeshan brought under his command. Since they bear the royal colors, we think it will reassure the city.”
“They might need some reassurance,” Mylan noted. “Hopefully, we can be there before Spesialle discovers what has happened here.”
“Ah, yes,” Brial murmured, his voice mild. “Do we have any information of the Duke?”
“None,” Glaucon replied. “No one has heard a thing, save for his betrayal of Callat.”
I sipped my wine while the men fell into one of their convoluted discussions about strategy and fortifications along our western border. My thoughts slipped to my uncle, and I felt the cold, angry coils tighten in my guts once again.
* * * *
We traveled as speedily as a force of five hundred could in the winter. The men who once marched under Jeshan de Callat looked at me askance when I passed. They could not forget the power I had displayed the night I defeated their liege, nor could they ignore the mercy I had shown them. Burning them inside their tents would have been easier, and most of them knew it. A lone warrior named Demont, had witnessed my confrontation with Jeshan. He spent much of his time relating those events to his compatriots, and slowly they began to lose their fear of me.
We made good time once we reached the road. At night, the men set up camp outside whatever village we were closest to, while several of the leaders rode into town. They did not permit me to sleep anywhere other than a nice, warm inn. Normally the overprotectiveness of Brial and his friends annoyed me. This time, I was very glad to acquiesce. I was too drained, too exhausted to relish the thought of sleeping on the frozen ground.
Anner usually remained in the camp, as much to avoid seeing Brial and I go to our room as to maintain watch over the men. Although he seemed more reconciled to our marriage, it was still a source of pain to him.
I was glad that Mariol was with us. His knowledge of the Court, his power within the nobility of Ansienne would be as much help to us as his undoubted strength in magic. My Ka’antira uncle, Wilden, had assumed the role of my bodyguard now that Brial was preoccupied with other things. Wilden was quieter now; the deaths of his brothers Morrote and Lamec in the battle of Asphodel had taken something from him. Sorrow had carved deep lines into his Elven features, but Wilden was comforting and solid as he rode behind me.
The first night at the inn, he knocked at our door as we finished a hot meal. Brial opened it, and Wilden entered with a small chest.
“What is that?” I asked suspiciously.
“Myrielle said to tell you that you know better than to run off to the capital without any appropriate clothes,” he replied with a straight face. “I am supposed to lecture you on the importance of your appearance and the impression that it conveys. Consider yourself lectured.”
With that, he turned on his heel and left, his eyes twinkling as he closed the door. I scowled at Brial as he laughed uproariously. “It isn’t funny, Brial.”
“You’re wrong, cariad. It’s very funny.”
I fell asleep as soon as I fell into bed each night. Inevitably, the dream would fall upon me. Usually, I awoke with the ringing sound of swords clashing in my ears. Then, I would brood over the dream until sleep claimed me again.
And it started all over.
The onset of winter didn't hamper our speed as we traveled across northern Ansienne. It was not very cold yet, and the blanket of snow softened the plains that stretched from the
The day before we reached Geochon, we held a conference in the taproom of the large inn we rented for the night. As we sat around a long, scrubbed table with mugs of brandy or mulled wine, we discussed the best way to proceed.
Mariol was cautious. “We are walking a fine line between events. On one hand, we need to enter Geochon from a position of strength. We can rely upon that to call the Privy Council to deal with the issue of the succession and to squash any of the de Callat pretensions. On the other hand, we do not want to present ourselves as conquerors. That would alienate many of the courtiers. Nobles tend to be very touchy about their own power and resent anyone who appears to threaten it.”
“We won’t be occupying the palace,” I pointed out. “That should be a clear indication of our intentions.”
“Yes, and you killed the man everyone thought to be the new King,” Mariol retorted. “Let’s not go into Geochon throwing our might around. We can house the soldiers as natural extensions of our retinues at this troubled time if we must. We cannot fall into the trap of turning this into an armed debate on the succession. The army is there to defend us, if this gets ugly, and to vouch for the events that led up to the death of Jeshan de Callat. As a matter of fact, Tamsen, the less involved you are in this the better.”
“Why don’t we send a runner into the city tonight?” Anner suggested.
“I think we want to avoid alarming the city,” I replied. “The death of a king, even an unloved one, throws a country into turmoil. Let’s keep it quiet until we announce it in the council. I don’t want to have to wade through riots in the streets in order to get to the palace.”
“True,” he admitted. He darted a glance at Brial, who sat impassively at my side. With a small frown, he bowed and left the room.
* * * *
As he lay in bed that night, Brial was solemn. I was brushing my hair out in a chair by the hearth when I noticed it. Usually Brial loved to watch me do this, and would take the brush from my hand and brush my tresses himself. Tonight, he was preoccupied with his own thoughts, and his black eyes were once again velvety and distant. I waited. If I knew one thing about my husband, it was that he would not be able to keep quiet about his concerns for long.
“I was wondering,” he began, brow furrowed, “if you are truly starting to get stronger.”
“Some,” I said, plaiting my hair in preparation for sleep. “I think a few weeks in one place will help.”
He rose from the bed with a sigh, and sat in the chair opposite my own. “How much rest do you actually think you’ll get in Geochon?”
“I don’t know. I am not on the Privy Council and I refuse to accept any claim I have on the throne. I should think I‘d be able to get quite a bit. Why?”
“I understand why you need to be here, but I think it is important that you take time to rest and heal.”
I secured the long braid with a ribbon and tossed it over my shoulder with a frown. “What is on your mind, beloved? This is leading somewhere, I think.”
“You haven’t slept well.” Brial tapped his fingers together in front of his chest and regarded me from behind his protective impassivity. “This dream of yours is taking a toll upon you.”
“It will pass.”
A flash of annoyance crossed his face and his black eyes glittered for a moment. “You need to be at your full strength. You need to be prepared for whatever it is that your uncle is planning.”
I considered this. “What has upset you so, cariad? There is more to this.”
“I know that I can protect you physically, but only you can protect yourself magically. The small magics that Wilden and I possess will be of no use against your uncle. Even Mariol doubts his ability to guard you. Only you have power enough to stand against Spesialle. I want to be certain you are strong enough to do so.”
I stared at him in astonishment, got up, and crossed to his chair. Without a word, I crawled into his lap and curled up there. His arms wrapped around me. As he pressed his lips tenderly to my brow, he cradled me with quiet tenderness.
“Beloved. Don’t worry so much for me.”
“I know you will go to the first council meeting,” he went on doggedly. “I know you have to do this, Tamsen. But I want you to promise me after this business is over, you will rest.”
“I can’t promise to stay in bed the entire time we are in the city, Brial. I can only promise to rest as much as I can. Will that satisfy you?”
“We should have gone to Daphnis’ sanctuary before we started on this journey,” he muttered. “Perhaps she could have shed some light upon this dream.”
“We didn’t have time.”
“We should have made the time.”
“Daphnis is a priestess of the Virgin Huntress. Maybe there is a sanctuary to her in the Artemicon.”
He did not answer and I noticed that a new concern haunted his eyes. “I am more afraid for you now than I have ever been.”
“It’s just a dream.”
“Your dreams are more than that and you know it. I wouldn’t be so concerned if you’d just tell me what happens in it.”
I hesitated. “I dream that you are fighting Spesialle in the throne room of Ansienne. That’s all there is to it. It’s not as if I need to be a prophet to realize that one day you and he will fight.”
“Then why does it trouble you so?”
“I don’t know.”
His arms tightened. “When we get to Geochon, you must rest. Once you have regained your strength, we’ll decide what to do next.”
I looked up into his face. “I have a lot to accomplish here, Brial. I do not have time to be ill in bed. Even so, I see your point. If you want to coop me up and get me into a foul temper, and can survive my boredom and irritability, I will follow your wishes once our business with the Council is done.”
He buried his face in my hair. “I know how you hate this,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
* * * *
We rode through the gates of Geochon the next afternoon. The knights and Mariol led the way, their horses at a steady walk. I followed a little behind them, flanked by the cloaked Elves. As we approached the western gates of the city, I nudged my horse forward. Brial frowned, but joined me at the vanguard of our column after a swift exchanged glance.
The two guards at the gate peered down the long column of soldiers, and then looked up at the armored knights.
“What is your business in Geochon?” The man’s voice was respectful, but tainted with suspicion.
“I am the Marquis of Beotte,” Mariol’s courtier’s voice rose smoothly over us. “I am bringing the royal army home from the front.”
The guards looked at us in puzzlement. “Where’s the king?”
“Jeshan de Callat is dead. We go to call the Privy Council.”
I watched with ironic amusement as the men tried to assimilate this information. Anner stirred restlessly, his horse skittering on the road.
Mariol looked down at them. “Let us pass, my good man. We do not have time to linger here. Keep the news of Callat’s death to yourself until the Council decides what to do.”
The guards reacted to the cool authority in his voice. Without further question, the great iron gates of the city slid open to admit us.
I heard a chuckle behind Mylan’s visor and I smothered a smile. Mariol’s insouciant manner had smoothed paths for us in the past. Unimpeded, the column marched into the city.
* * * *
We continued through the streets to the doors of the palace. As we passed, people stood aside to let us by. Why were the people of Geochon looking at us so strangely? The mood in the streets was sullen and fairly quiet aside from an occasional mutter. I rode uneasily. The royal colors flashed from the two hundred men at the head of the army. Our hope had been that the presence of these men would reassure them. Apparently, our tactic had not worked.
Brial loosened his sword. I turned my head at the sound, and our eyes met. “Something is wrong here.”
“I agree.”
The knights felt it too, as did the men behind us. The streets were lined with grim-faced townsfolk. Their numbers swelled as we went into the royal district.
We proceeded to the palace. Gauging the mood of the city, I dismissed peeling from the column and heading to Mariol’s townhouse. Brial didn’t argue when we passed through the district of Plautus. Obviously, he felt the same way. When the column marched in through the gates of the palace, I breathed a little easier.
The Court entrance looked much the same as it had before, with wide, imposing marble steps curving up to massive double doors. The last time I had seen those steps, they were slick with blood after Lufaux’s assassination.
Glaucon pulled in his horse and shouted, “Dismount and form up, men!” The troop obeyed, lining up into a solid block of warriors warding the doors. The remainder of our party dismounted, but I stared at the immaculate stairs and didn’t move.
“The city was a little unfriendly.” Mylan removed his helmet. “The people seemed to be afraid of the army.”
“Either word of Jeshan’s death has preceded us, or the army has been particularly repressive in the capital. Either way, the next few hours are going to be on the dangerous side, I think.” Brial swung me down from the saddle. The movement broke my trapped gaze from the stairs, so I turned to the others hastily.
“Tamsen, when we were here last, you had a herald witness and proclaim the murder of Lufaux.” Mariol pulled off his gloves. “Let’s see if we can find the same man. We’ll need his help when we go crashing into the council.”
I nodded and joined him at the front. “We need Demont with us as well.”
Mylan gestured to the soldier, who joined us. His coarsened face was anxious, but he fell in readily at my back. “All right, gentlemen,” I began in a low voice. “No swords unless necessary. Anner, you need to find and isolate any of the de Callat kin who might have a problem with our announcement. Glaucon and Mylan, you protect the doors. We do not want anyone running out of the council to get his or her own private armies. Mariol and I will go in together. Brial, you and Wilden—”
I broke off, assessing the grim-faced Elves. Mariol’s eyebrows rose as I finished lamely, “—will continue to do exactly what you want to do anyway, so just try to stay out of our way when we’re speaking. I don’t know what idiot ever thought Elves were good plotters, but you two have to be the worst co-conspirators in history.”
As I intended, the flippant comment made all of them laugh, even if it was a little too heartily. I looked at Mariol and heaved a sigh.
“Well, my dear? Shall we go in?” He offered me his arm.
I laid my hand upon it and we mounted the stairs. Out of the corner of my mouth, I hissed, “We agreed I would have nothing to do with this.”
“Circumstances change,” he replied. “Find that herald, Tamsen. If he is in the corridors, we will take him with us. If he is in the throne room, find him quickly and send Wilden to fetch him. His validation of your actions that day will go a long way to proclaim your intentions.”
“So will my murder of Jeshan.”
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