Beneath a Midnight Moon (15 page)
Read Beneath a Midnight Moon Online
Authors: Amanda Ashley
Chapter 23
With the seventh month rapidly approaching, the whole castle was in constant turmoil. The housemaids and the scullery maids were busy from dawn till dark, making sure that every tablecloth, every tapestry was brushed clean. The bed linens were washed and aired, the rushes replaced. All the silver was polished until it gleamed. The crystal sparkled like the sun.
The gardens were weeded, the shrubs pruned, the lakes and waterways cleaned of fallen leaves and debris.
Sharilyn toured the entire castle from the lowliest dungeon to the uppermost turrets, making certain that every cobweb, every speck of dust, had been thoroughly swept away.
The castle seamstresses sewed hour after hour, making new wardrobes: a dress of deep royal blue satin and silk for Sharilyn, a gown of forest green velvet for Kylene, a gown of soft shimmering silver for Selene. The royal tailors produced new clothes for Hardane and Lord Kray as well.
Amid all the fuss, Dubrey continued to court Kylene. He sought her company often and eagerly, his sincerity stealing her affection if not her heart. Of all the brothers, he was the most like Hardane, and sometimes, on dark, lonely nights in her room, she let herself wonder what it would be like to marry Dubrey. Even though she doubted Hardane would ever be hers, the thought of spending the rest of her life in the Motherhouse no longer held any appeal. And if she could not have Hardane, perhaps she might find a measure of happiness with Dubrey.
She was thinking of that now as she sat on the balcony outside her chamber. She had not seen Hardane alone since the night of the ball when he had promised he would find a way for them to be together. As much as she yearned to believe, needed to believe, she was afraid to trust him, afraid of being hurt again.
She had tried to search her own heart and soul, tried to find some deep inner sense that she was indeed the firstborn twin, but no such knowledge came forth. She had no memory of her childhood, only an abiding fear of water that she could not explain. The first face she remembered was that of Mother Dorissa bending over her bed, begging her not to cry, but she couldn’t recall why she had been crying.
Later, growing up, she had always felt different from the others, a woman apart, even though she had been treated much the same as the other members of the Sisterhood.
Thinking back, she tried to recall why she had felt that way, but it was more of a feeling, a sense that she had been destined for something else, rather than anything that had been said or done.
Was she truly the firstborn twin, betrothed to Hardane, as he believed? Had her sisters in the Motherhouse known that she was a princess, born to marry into the House of Argone? But if it was true, why had no one ever told her? Why hadn’t Mother Dorissa prepared her? Why had her father abandoned her? Where was her mother? Her sisters? For the first time, it occurred to her that she must have six other siblings if she and Selene were the seventh and eighth born. Perhaps she had brothers as well, aunts, uncles, cousins.
She closed her eyes against the growing pain in her head. So many questions. Surely someone, somewhere, had the answers.
But it no longer seemed to matter. Tomorrow was the seventh day of the seventh month.
The day of the wedding.
A knock at the door drew her from the balcony. She’d expected it to be Hadj bringing water for her bath. Instead, she saw Selene standing in the hallway.
“May I come in?” Selene asked.
Kylene nodded. Since Selene’s arrival, they had been together only at mealtimes, never alone. There was no bond between them. Selene had not sought out Kylene’s company, nor had Kylene sought hers.
Closing the door, Kylene led the way into the small blue and white sitting room.
“Sit down, won’t you?” she invited, indicating the soft leather chair beside the window.
Selene shook her head, her gaze sweeping the room. To her delight, she saw that it was not as large or as lavishly appointed as her own chambers.
“I’m not staying long. I merely came to tell you not to attend the wedding.”
Kylene stared at her twin, surprised at the hurt that washed through her. She hadn’t wanted to attend the ceremony, knowing it would be agony of the worst kind to stand watching while Hardane married another. She had, in fact, spent the last several nights trying to think of a plausible excuse to avoid the celebration altogether, but being told not to attend, and by her own flesh and blood, hurt just the same.
“As you wish,” Kylene agreed.
Selene nodded and turned to leave.
“Wait.”
Selene glanced over her shoulder, a look of annoyance on her face. “What is it?”
“Where is my mother? My sisters?”
“Our three oldest sisters married knights from other empires long ago. The others died of a fever.”
“And our mother?”
“She’s dead. She died of the same fever that took our sisters.”
Kylene stared at Selene, repulsed by the coldness in her sister’s tone. Did the woman feel nothing over the loss of her parents, her siblings? Was there no love in her heart?
“Is that all?” Selene asked impatiently.
Kylene nodded. Her parents and three of her siblings were dead, but she wasn’t alone in the world. She had three other sisters. The thought comforted her as she watched Selene leave the room. Surely they weren’t all as cold and uncaring as her twin.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she let her mind wander, imagining what it would be like to meet her sisters and their husbands. Their children, if they had any. She thought how nice it would be to spend the high holidays with family, to learn about her parents, her own childhood, of which she had no recollection.
A sound in the hallway drew her attention to the present. Rising, she went to the door of her chamber.
“Is someone there?” She listened a moment and then, quite clearly, she saw Hardane’s image in her mind.
Her heart seemed to turn over in her breast as she put out her hand and opened the door.
“Kylene . . .”
“I knew it was you,” she said even as she let her eyes look their fill. He wore a loose-fitting shirt that matched the gray of his eyes, black breeches, and knee-high boots. And he was handsome, so breathtakingly handsome.
“You’ve been missing me,” she said, startling them both. “You’ve come to ask me to go for a walk.”
He looked down at her, his eyes bright with amusement. “Are you reading my mind, lady?”
“So it would seem.”
“Will you walk with me?”
“You’ve always been able to read
my
mind,” Kylene replied. “Surely you must know the answer.”
my
mind,” Kylene replied. “Surely you must know the answer.”
He smiled down at her as he held out his hand.
Kylene smiled back as she placed her hand in his, and then she frowned, thinking that Selene wouldn’t like his being there.
“Where’s your betrothed?” she asked, unable to keep a note of bitterness from her voice.
His gaze moved over her face as his hand squeezed hers. “By my side, lady.”
Kylene blinked back her tears, unable to speak for the joy those few words kindled in her heart.
Hand in hand, they left the keep and walked into the night. She knew without asking where they were going.
In the moonlight, the maze was even more magical, more beautiful. The topiary unicorn seemed to shimmer in the starlight, the leaves of the trees whispered secrets to the soft south wind, the tall grass swayed to the music of the night.
And when Hardane held out his arms, Kylene went to him without hesitation.
For a long while, he only held her close, his face buried in the wealth of her hair. She fit in his embrace as if a beneficent God had designed her with him in mind. A deep breath filled his nostrils with her scent, stirring his desire as no other woman ever had. He let his essence surround her, felt their spirits blend into a single entity as her thoughts met his.
No words were said. None were necessary.
Tomorrow was the seventh day of the seventh month.
Tomorrow, he would know if Kylene was truly destined to be his life-mate.
Tomorrow, she would discover the truth of who she really was.
But tonight . . .
He stroked her hair, his fingertips lightly caressing her cheek as he murmured her name, only her name, over and over again. When he kissed her, it was more than a mere touching of his lips to hers, but the promise of a lifetime.
There was no need to read his thoughts now. She knew that, right or wrong, he had pledged himself to her, and only her.
In the silence of her mind, she made the same vow.
Thinking to find serenity in the rightness of it, she was startled by a sudden inner vision of flames rising up all around her, enveloping her, of a black wolf, its hackles bristling, its fangs bared . . .
With a cry, she pulled free of Hardane’s embrace, her only thought to run away from what she knew was a vision of the future.
“Kylene, wait!”
“No.” She began to run as she heard him coming up behind her. “Stay away from me!”
“Kylene! It’s not what you think!”
But she could not banish the terror of the flames from her mind. She could still feel the heat overpowering her, burning her hair and skin, stealing her breath away. And the wolf, snarling at her, could only be Hardane.
She screamed when she felt his hand close over her shoulder. He tried to draw her into his arms, but she pummeled his chest with her fists as he drew her close.
“Kylene, listen to me, please.”
“No.” She shook her head, his nearness striking fear in her heart. He was the wolf.
“It’s not what you think,” he said again, his voice quiet, soothing. “Trust me. Please, lady.”
“I can’t.”
“The flames are part of the test. You’ll come to no harm, I promise you.”
“And the wolf? What of the wolf snarling at me? Was it you?”
“I’d never hurt you, Kylene. You must believe me.”
She stared up at him, wanting to believe, afraid to believe.
“I know in my heart that you’re the firstborn. The flames will prove it. You have only to trust me, to believe in yourself, in our love.”
“No. No, I can’t. Please, let me go. I’m afraid.”
“Of me?”
She stared into his eyes. They were gray and calm, so familiar.
“Kylene?” Seeing the fear in her eyes, reading it in her mind, he was tempted to tell her everything, and yet he couldn’t tell her the whole truth. Not yet.
Feeling like the worst kind of coward, he drew her into his arms and held her close.
“Please,” she whimpered, “please let me go.”
“I can’t.”
“I’m afraid,” she said, shivering uncontrollably. “So afraid.”
“I know,” he replied, his voice husky with concern, “but you have nothing to fear. The flames will prove who you are. It’s a challenge you must face of your own free will.”
She relaxed in the strength of his arms, feeling his courage bolster her own. “How? When?”
“Tomorrow night, at the Temple of Fire.”
Kylene shuddered. “The Temple of Fire?”
“It’s where all the heirs of Argone are life-mated. Be there, Kylene. Don’t let a promise made to your sister keep you away.”
Tenderly, he cupped her face in his hands and gazed deep into her eyes. “Don’t let your fears keep us apart.”
Chapter 24
Kylene sat in her room plagued by doubts and indecision. Should she do as she’d promised Selene and shun the wedding, or should she put her faith in Hardane?
Don’t let your fears keep us apart,
he’d said, and for the first time, she acknowledged that she was afraid. Not of the fire, as she’d claimed, but of learning the truth that she knew Hardane was hiding from her. But, more than that, she was afraid to be his wife, to take her rightful place at his side, to help him rule Argone when the time came. She’d had so little contact with people other than the Sisters at the Motherhouse. She was ignorant of the social structure of Argone, ignorant of its religion, its beliefs. She was Mouldourian. Perhaps the people of Argone would never accept her. Perhaps Hardane’s parents would never accept her.
he’d said, and for the first time, she acknowledged that she was afraid. Not of the fire, as she’d claimed, but of learning the truth that she knew Hardane was hiding from her. But, more than that, she was afraid to be his wife, to take her rightful place at his side, to help him rule Argone when the time came. She’d had so little contact with people other than the Sisters at the Motherhouse. She was ignorant of the social structure of Argone, ignorant of its religion, its beliefs. She was Mouldourian. Perhaps the people of Argone would never accept her. Perhaps Hardane’s parents would never accept her.
She buried her face in her hands. So many doubts. She was sure of only one thing, her unwavering love for Hardane. Did she have the courage to fight for him? Did she truly believe she was the firstborn twin, and if she did, if she was, was she going to cower in her room and let Selene marry Hardane?
“No!”
Rising, she took a last look at herself in the mirror. The green velvet dress was the most flattering gown she’d ever worn. It accented her breasts, complemented the color of her hair, and made her skin glow. She wore her hair loose about her shoulders because Hardane preferred it that way, even though mature women did not leave their hair unbound.
Her decision made, she hurried from the room before she could change her mind. She was already late.
The Temple of Fire stood on the crest of a hill. Made of highly polished moonstone, it glowed eerily in the light of the full moon.
Kylene thought it was the tallest, most beautiful building she’d ever seen. She was puzzled by the lack of windows, but decided there was probably a reason why one side of the building had no opening other than a massive door made of wood so dark it was almost black.
She was breathless when she reached the top of the rise. Pausing to catch her breath, she stared at the life-size figure of a wolf carved in the heavy wooden door before she turned the heavy brass handle and crossed the threshold of the temple.
She came to an abrupt halt as she closed the door behind her. She had expected to find herself in a church with stained-glass windows, candles, an altar, some holy artifacts. Now she saw that the Temple of Fire was not a building at all, but four high roofless walls that enclosed an emerald green meadow. Tall, slender trees clothed in shimmering leaves of gold and silver grew in scattered clumps.
For a moment, she stared at the murals painted on the walls. One portrayed a pack of wolves running across a grassy plain; another depicted a lone wolf howling at a bright yellow moon. A third showed the figure of a tall, bare-chested man with the head of a wolf.
But it was the mural on the fourth wall that caught and held Kylene’s attention. It showed a woman being consumed in an orange flame while a pack of wolves stood in a circle around her.
Drawing her gaze from the painting, she saw that there was a long, low altar in the center of the meadow. The altar was covered by an iridescent cloth of green and gold.
Those who had been invited to the wedding, and they were few, were gathered behind the altar.
Hardane, looking resplendent in snug buff-colored breeches, high kidskin boots, and a white linen shirt, stood in front of the altar, on the right.
Selene stood to the left, with perhaps six feet of blackened ground between them.
Lord Kray and Sharilyn took their places behind Hardane. His brothers stood to one side.
A priest in long gray robes stood in front of the altar between Hardane and Selene.
“Are all those who were invited to attend present?” the priest asked.
Kylene saw Hardane frown as his gaze moved over the faces of the guests. And then he looked toward the doorway, smiling when he saw her.
“Yes,” he said, his voice carrying clearly.
“Shall we proceed?”
You must challenge Selene’s claim.
Hardane’s voice rang out in Kylene’s mind. Looking over at him, she saw him nod.
Hardane’s voice rang out in Kylene’s mind. Looking over at him, she saw him nod.
“My Lord Kray,” the priest said, “shall we proceed?”
Lord Kray nodded. “Yes.”
“No.” With as much dignity and courage as she could muster, Kylene made her way to the center of the meadow and stood beside Selene. “I challenge this woman’s right to marry into the House of Argone.”
“A challenge?” the priest exclaimed. “You wish to challenge?”
Selene glared at Kylene. “Are you mad?” she hissed.
Lord Kray took a step forward, his face dark with condemnation. “Kylene . . .”
“Let her speak, Father,” Hardane said.
“By what right do you challenge this marriage?” the priest asked.
“By right of being the firstborn twin.”
“Have you proof of this?” the priest asked.
“I . . .” Kylene looked at Hardane.
The fire will prove it.
“The fire will . . .” She glanced at the mural depicting the woman in flames, and then stared at the blackened ground at her feet.
The fire will prove it.
“The fire will . . .” She glanced at the mural depicting the woman in flames, and then stared at the blackened ground at her feet.
Don’t let your fears keep us apart.
She sent an anxious glance at Hardane.
She sent an anxious glance at Hardane.
Hardane nodded at her, his dark gray eyes filled with love and reassurance.
“The fire will prove it,” Kylene said.
An audible gasp broke the silence of the crowd.
Lord Kray frowned.
Sharilyn closed her eyes, a look of intense concentration on her face.
Selene continued to glare at Kylene, her eyes filled with malice.
“So let it be done,” the priest said.
Holding his arms out to his sides, the Wolffan cleric began to chant softly. The words, low and musical, were foreign to Kylene’s ears.
Though Kylene wanted to watch Hardane, her gaze was drawn to the priest. The air around him seemed to shimmer like heat rising from the desert floor. A low rumble, like the beating of distant drums, seemed to echo off the walls, and yet it wasn’t so much a sound as a feeling of immense power rising up all around them.
Slowly the priest raised his hands, and Kylene saw that his palms were glowing, and when, moments later, he raised his arms over his head, twin walls of white fire sprang up on either side of him.
And now the priest stood in the middle of the twin walls of flame, with Selene and Kylene behind one flaming barrier and Hardane behind the other.
“Hardane, seventh son of Argone, born of Sharilyn and Kray here present, come forth.”
The beat of the drumming grew louder, and Kylene glanced around, wondering where the sound was coming from.
She stared through the blaze, gasping in horror as Hardane took a step forward. For a moment, he seemed to be engulfed in a sheet of white flame, and then he emerged through the wall of fire, apparently unharmed, to stand at the priest’s left hand.
“Selene, seventh daughter of Mouldour, rightful heir of Carrick and Joce, come forth.”
Selene stared at the flames. They were orange now and they danced and swayed before her, their rhythm almost hypnotic. She told herself there was nothing to fear. Hardane had walked through the wall of fire unscathed. So could she. Reminding herself of all she hoped to gain, of the reward that would be hers, she took a step forward, her hands clenched at her sides.
She could feel the heat against her skin; the smoke filled her nostrils; the crackle of the flames rang like thunder in her ears.
She gazed through the barrier of fire to where Hardane stood beside the priest.
“Selene, seventh daughter of Mouldour, come forth,” the priest repeated.
She couldn’t do it, Selene thought in despair, not for the throne of Argone, not for Hardane, not for all the wealth of the world.
There was a long pause. A low murmur rose from the crowd as they looked from Selene to Hardane, wondering at her hesitation.
The priest bowed his head a moment and then, in a loud voice, cried, “Kylene, seventh daughter of Mouldour, rightful heir of Carrick and Joce, come forth.”
Kylene glanced again at the mural of the woman engulfed in flames, at the blackened ground before the altar.
Don’t let your fear keep us apart.
Once again she heard Hardane’s voice in her mind, strong and clear.
Once again she heard Hardane’s voice in her mind, strong and clear.
Taking a deep breath, she stared at him through the shimmering flames, surprised to see that the fire was no longer orange but a brilliant shade of white, and then, her gaze locked with Hardane’s, she took a step forward.
There was a sensation of warmth, of being engulfed in a bright silver haze. For a moment, her mind was filled with all the colors of the rainbow, and then she saw the image of a black wolf running through the forest. She concentrated on the face of the wolf. He seemed to be smiling at her, beckoning her. Fearlessly, she followed him, and then she was through the fire, facing Hardane.
His deep gray eyes were filled with love and pride as he stepped forward and took her hand in his.
“As heir of Argone, I accept this woman as my wife and declare that we are life-mated from this night forward.”
The priest began to chant again, and this time the voices of those who had been invited to the ceremony joined in, until the night was filled with song underscored by the low rumble of a drum. And while the anthem was still going strong, the priest placed his hands over theirs and spoke the ancient words that made them one.
As he blessed their union, the flames exploded in a burst of blinding white light and then disappeared.
Selene stared at Hardane and Kylene, her face a mask of hate and envy.
“You’ll rue this day, Hardane of Argone!” she shrieked. “A curse upon you and all your house!”
And then, before anyone could stop her, she ran out of the temple.
For a moment, no one moved, and then Lord Kray and Sharilyn came forward to welcome Kylene into the family.
Hardane’s brothers came next, each bearing a gift for the bride. A rope of exquisite blue pearls from Dubrey, a fine gold chain from Liam, a length of cloth of gold from Garth and Dirk, a jeweled dagger from Dace, a jewel-encrusted box from Morray.
After Hardane’s brothers had welcomed her, the others came forward, wishing her health and happiness, bearing gifts of herbs and spices and flagons of wine, all of which were symbols of fertility and felicity.
Dazed, Kylene accepted the gifts, the hugs, the good wishes. Later, she would worry about Selene’s vile threat, she would relive the fear and the magic of the flames, but for now she could think of nothing save the fact that she was Hardane’s wife for now and for always.
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