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Authors: David Dalglish,Robert J. Duperre

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Horror, #Dark Fantasy, #United States, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Coming of Age

Dawn of Swords (14 page)

BOOK: Dawn of Swords
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“You’re right, Mother,” he said. “This
is
a good thing.”

Soleh’s face soured, turning suddenly sad. “It is,” she agreed.

He reached for her, but she moved before he could touch her.

“Mother, what is it? What ills you?”

“I…it is just…”

“A letter came this morning from your manor in Erznia,” said Lanike Crestwell, taking Soleh’s hand. Her high-pitched voice matched her mousy features. “It seems your daughter Lyana has found herself in a rather…compromising position.”

Vulfram’s heart skipped a beat. “Lyana? What has she done this time?”

Lyana Mori was his second child and a bit of a wild soul. She was always getting into spats with the local farmers, one time even
earning a high merchant’s ire by attempting to bed his thirteen-year-old son. She had been nine at the time. Now she was sixteen.

“The letter did not say,” said Lanike. “It was an official epistle sent by Magister Wentner, requesting the presence of a high official to sit in judgment of your daughter. We’ve been given no word of the charges. With Joseph in Dezerea, I thought to send Crian to settle the matter.”

“No other man will sit in judgment of my daughter,” said Vulfram. “I am Lord Commander of Karak’s Army. I will take care of this myself.”

The idea of him leaving seemed to break his mother, and she turned her face to hide her tears. Lanike gave him a hard look and said, “You have your responsibilities to the realm and its forces to consider.”

“Responsibilities from which your husband the Highest has granted me leave. I have a month to do as I please. This changes nothing, for I was already planning to return to my family. Come morning, I’ll ride. If the weather holds, I can make it there in less than two days.”

Lanike squeezed his hand, hard. “Remember, Lord Commander, that you are bound by Karak’s laws. As much as you love your daughter, it is your creator to whom you owe loyalty.”

He ripped his fingers away. “I realize this, Lady Crestwell. No one loves Karak more than I. And whatever Lyana has done, I will punish her as the law demands. Of that you have my word, not that you would need it. Now, if you will excuse me, I must gather my things from the castle and ready my horse.”

His mother stopped weeping into her pillow and leapt off the bed. She barreled into him, wrapping him tightly in her arms, wetting his chest with her tears. It never ceased to amaze him how different his mother was outside of a public setting; in court she was steel, unflinching, whereas behind closed doors, among her husband and children, she was like a ball of yarn that couldn’t keep
itself together. It was something he admired about her, really. He wished he could be as open with his emotions as she was, even if only on occasion.

Soleh pulled him close, standing on her toes so that her lips might reach his ear.

“I love you, Vulfram, and I love my granddaughter,” she whispered. “Please, no matter what she has done, be kind to her. She has not known a father’s love for many years. Show her the mercy she deserves.”

“I will, Mother,” he whispered, and after placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, he exited her chamber. First the show of violence against Haven, followed by countless insufferable nights spent listening to Highest Crestwell’s endless proselytizing, and now his Lyana in trouble. An endless stream of tension that had tightened his chest and turned the hairs in his beard even grayer than before. His heart beat out of control, stealing away his breath.

I don’t want to be the first of my family to die
, he thought, and went about preparing for the journey home.
But by the gods, don’t let it be Lyana either.

C
HAPTER

7

Y
ears ago, before Celestia altered the landscape of Dezrel to prepare for the coming of humanity, the city of Dezerea had been nothing but a wide swath of forest just outside the borders of Kal’droth, underneath which sat miles of tunnels and catacombs filled with statues and monuments dedicated to the fallen of both the Dezren and Quellan elves. It was a mutual place of honor and tribute, and had been for nearly two thousand years.

At least that was according to the stories her nursemaid told her. Aullienna Meln of Stonewood was twelve, so she had never experienced Dezrel before the coming of the humans.

As she took in her surroundings, Aullienna found it hard to believe that the city was less than a hundred years old. When they had first arrived two days ago, their convoy had passed through a forest of tall trees, many of which supported great wooden homes in their sturdy branches, only accessible by hanging rope ladders. In the immense clearing in the center of the wood, giant spires of crystal rose from the earth, buildings fashioned from the rock beneath her feet by the goddess. It was a city that glistened even when the sky was cloudy. Palace Thyne was the biggest and shiniest structure of
them all, towering above her head in shimmering emerald. Unlike when they first arrived, when the palace was docile, now eager faces appeared in the windows, hands coming together in cheers. Their shouts added to those of the multitude surrounding her, a noise so loud her ears rang and her brain rattled in her skull.

Each step closer to the palace filled her with dread. Aullienna squeezed her mother’s hand, and Audrianna Meln, Lady of Stonewood, knelt down before her. She was a blaze of splendor in her satin-spun red dress, contrasted with her yellow mantle garlanded with tiny rubies. Her golden hair flowed straight as a comet’s tail beneath a silver diadem. She stroked her daughter’s hair, so very similar to her own, and playfully flicked the point of her ear. It was something her mother did when Aullienna acted nervous, and it always succeeded in making her laugh.

“What’s wrong, Aully?” her mother asked.

Aullienna bit her lip.

“I’m scared.”

“There is nothing to be afraid of. These people are our friends.”

“I know.” Aullienna lowered her gaze and kicked at a stone that stood out in the middle of the grass.

Her mother’s head cocked to the side. “Wait…are you scared of meeting
him?

At Aully’s blush, her mother let out a soft laugh.

“Oh, child, come now. He’s only a boy. You’ve stood your own with many a boy before.”

“But none of them were supposed to be my husband.”

At that, her mother’s expression shifted. A furrowed brow created the tiniest of creases in the pearly white flesh of her forehead.

“I know how you feel,” she said. “I felt the same way when your grandfather told me I was to marry your father. I refused to come out of my room for hours. But your grandmother pulled me out, kicking and screaming, and when I first laid eyes on the boy I was to marry, all that fear withered away.”

“But what if that doesn’t happen for me? What if he’s mean?”

“It will happen, my sweet. The boy is from a strong bloodline. The joining of our families will only strengthen our standing among our peoples, and he knows this. He will treat you with the respect a young woman deserves.”

Aully smiled at her mother, but she wasn’t convinced. It had been two months since she’d been told of her betrothal to Kindren Thyne of Dezerea, a boy she had never met. They were to be wed in the shadow of Palace Thyne, in a city she had never visited. It had seemed unreal at first, just another story spun by her mother and her nursemaid, but now she was here in Dezerea, preparing for the celebration that would mark the announcement of their betrothal. It all seemed so forbidding, so
big
.

More than anything she wished her sister were with her. Brienna would know how to set her nerves at ease. Even though Brienna was more than ninety years her senior, the two of them had been close for as long as Aully could remember. It was Brienna who had taught her to fire a bow, swing a staff, and conjure little balls of fire and ice. It was also Brienna who had told her horror stories of her
own
betrothal, an arrangement that had ended when Brienna set the pants of her would-be husband on fire. According to Mother, the damage done to the family name might have been catastrophic had they not been the Lords of Stonewood.

Brienna was a free spirit, and that was just what Aully needed at the moment.

The Barker, an elder from Dezerea with hair as white as the fields in winter, shouted over the din of applause. The crowd quieted. Aully’s mother guided her daughter through the throng of elves that formed a tunnel of smooth white flesh and extravagant clothing. At the end of the living channel stood Aully’s father, Cleotis Meln of Stonewood, his face slender and his smile charming. He wore a pleated green doublet over his brown tunic. To his left were the Sovereigns of Dezerea, Orden and Phyrra Thyne.
Where Aully’s family was fair, the Thynes were dark haired, and they were clothed as lavishly as the rest, wearing the blue and yellow colors of Dezerea.

When she reached them, her father bent down and kissed her lips, followed by Lady and Lord Thyne. Then they all parted, and Aully’s mother gently nudged her into place. She walked between the two sets of royalty, feeling naked in the thin, white satin chemise that hung from her shoulders.

Then she saw the vision of an angel.

He was a tall youth, with a slender face and kind eyes. His long hair was the color of the leaves on the ground in autumn, tied back tightly against his scalp, revealing his strong cheeks and dimpled smile. The look of a child still hung on him, but he possessed the grace of a man when his body was set in motion.

Kindren knelt before her, took her hand in his. She was wearing a bronze ring that was set with the symbol of Stonewood—the star of Celestia shining above a single tree. With only a brief hesitation, he placed a single kiss upon its polished surface. Then he stood, still holding her hand, and their eyes met. He winked at her and proceeded to turn and face the gathered crowd, lifting her arm in the process. The shouts of approval rose to a near-deafening level, and Aully felt the last of her apprehension flutter away like so many butterflies. She held her head up proudly, accepting the cheers from the gathering of elves, her strength reinforced by the young man beside her.

Kindren glanced down at her, and she up at him, and they shared another quiet moment, alone despite the hundreds of onlookers. An odd tremble scuttled through her midsection, and she felt the rest of her body echo the sensation. Kinden squeezed her fingers tighter, though not in an aggressive way. Her mind went blank, and what she did next came seemingly by instinct: she rose up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his perfectly smooth cheek. The cheers quickly began anew. Aully could feel the beaming smiles of
her parents behind her, and her chest filled with a sense of pride that evened out the quivering in her midsection.

A thought came to her, and the realization both baffled her and made her feel like a silly young elf. She was awestruck by the Thyne boy, infatuated after only a few short moments in his company…and he had not yet spoken a word.

The Barker stepped to the middle of the circle and held up his hands. The crowd quieted, and for the first time Aully noticed the strange appearance of many of those around her. Elves with copper skin and black hair were interspersed throughout the host. Though their clothing was earthy and rustic, the priceless jewelry they wore made them appear just as noble as her parents.
The Quellans
, she thought. Aully had never met a Quellan elf before, having never left Stonewood. They had a certain exotic beauty, but she had to admit there was something hard in their expressions that she found off-putting, a kind of intensity she only saw on her father’s face when he was talking about how much Brienna had embarrassed the family.

“We are gathered here today,” the Barker said, “to celebrate the joining of two great houses. Kindren Thyne and Aullienna Meln, you are to link your hands, and thereby your lives, in a union that is to last forever. Will you accept this duty set upon you,
ambar meleth
, before Celestia, the bringer of light and life?”

The Barker looked to Aully first, and she dipped her chin and said, “I will.”

He looked at Kindren next, and the boy said in a voice just as handsome as his visage, “I will.”

The Barker touched both of their hands, which were still clasped together, and his wrinkled finger traced the image of a six-sided star, three points on Aully’s flesh, three points on Kindren’s. “Faith, family, and land, that is what you now share with this betrothal,” he murmured, his ancient eyes rolling back in his skull. “So shall it be done.”

“So shall it be done,” echoed the voices of every elf in attendance.

Aully and Kindren’s respective fathers stepped forward, shaking hands with each other to seal the agreement, and then the Barker turned to the crowd.

“Let the games begin!” he shouted.

The applause was riotous.

The betrothed couple were led across the field to a series of raised platforms horseshoeing around a section of freshly tilled and packed soil, seats that had been designated for the royal families. Her parents took their seats behind her, along with Orden and Phyrra Thyne and the lords of the Quellan, Neyvar Ruven and his wife. To her right was Ceredon, son of the Neyvar, intense and regal, his smooth cocoa skin seeming to blend in with the russet ribbon he wore about his neck. Kindren sat to her left, his previous confidence seeming to have fled him now that the opening ceremonies were over. He appeared nervous, his skin slick with sweat when his fingers touched hers. She wondered what she had done wrong, but the boy would barely look at her, much less offer her an explanation. Feeling alone between an intimidating man of royalty and her unresponsive fiancée, the butterflies in Aullienna’s stomach came swarming back to life.

The Tournament of Betrothal began with an archery competition. She watched elf after elf, male and female alike, step into the horseshoed arena, shooting their arrows with deadly accuracy at targets that were gradually moved farther and farther away. The air filled with the
whoosh
and
thunk
of bolts hitting their marks, and she felt her nerves slowly ebb.
This
was how she spent her days back in Stonewood—shooting game, playing at magic, climbing trees, and skipping stones across the surface of Rocky Neck Pond. She wished she could be down there with the rest of them.

BOOK: Dawn of Swords
4.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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