Dawnsinger (15 page)

Her face sank into lines of weariness, and he gave her a quiet smile. “Will you rest now?”

“I will rest. Shae, will you stay and watch over me while I sleep?”

“I will stay.”

Maeven’s eyes lit with tenderness. “Thank you.”

Elcon pressed forward beside Shae. “I can return later and escort my sister to her chambers, after I take care of certain other duties.”

Kai remembered that Elcon’s duties included a meeting with Craelin and himself. He bowed and excused himself, stepping into the outer chamber.

Freaer waited before the hearth.

“How long have you been here?” Kai heard the edge in his voice. The inner door had been shut, but could Freaer have overheard somehow?

Freaer’s eyes glinted in the firelight. “I’ve only now arrived. Since no one came at my knock, I admitted myself. Maeven requested my music this night, but when I heard voices, I decided to wait before entering.

“You did well to wait. Maeven will want no music tonight.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes. She’s about to sleep.”

“Then I’ll return to the great hall.”

“I’ll come with you.” Kai stepped into the corridor with Freaer, but paused. “I’ll take my leave of you, after all. I’ve remembered an errand.”

Freaer gave him a strange look, but turned away without question.

Kai waited for Freaer to vanish around a corner, and then returned to Maeven’s chambers and drew Elcon aside. “We should use caution with one another, even in private. One unguarded word could put Shae’s safety in doubt.”

Elcon lifted a brow. “What’s prompted your concern?”

“I found Freaer in the outer chamber. I think he heard nothing, but we’ll need to take more care.”

Elcon rubbed his chin. “Let’s discuss this later. This saddens me, for I’ve found this day a sister I cannot claim.”

“Not yet, for Shae’s sake.”

“Do you believe the Contender remains among us still?”

“Recent events should provide your answer.”

Elcon’s eyes widened at Kai’s words. “Do you think he’s behind all the unrest? But how can he remain alive after all this time?”

“By fell arts. Meriwen of Old lengthened her own life and her son’s. Even so, she couldn’t cheat death forever. We can hope her son will also find a mortal end. Remember the advice given in
DawnSinger’s Lament
: For when the DayStar shines while discord darkens Elderland, hearken to the signs and rest within Lof Yuel’s hand.”

Elcon’s posture relaxed a little. “We have yet to see the DayStar.”

“Not yet. But I think it can’t be far off.”

****

Craelin hailed Kai, although his words were lost in the revelry as shouts and laughter mingled with lively music. The great hall rocked with merriment. Even the fires in the yawning fireplaces danced about.

Kai returned Craelin’s greeting and joined the group clad in the green and gold of the guardians. By birthright, he could seat himself upon the dais at one end of the chamber, where stone tables and carved chairs waited alongside massive sideboards. But Kai preferred to join his fellows at the strongwood tables below the dais. Through smoke-hazed air laden with the tang of resin and the fragrance of meat roasting on spits, he could see that most of the guardians had already eaten. But they would linger in one another’s company.

Those seated across from Craelin—Aerlic, the archer, and Guaron, the wingabeast keeper—engaged in animated conversation, understanding one another despite the rising din. Kai spoke near Craelin’s ear. “Elcon looks for us soon.”

Craelin nodded while Kai signaled a serving maid laden with a steaming platter.

From the minstrel’s gallery, a new tune pierced the air, its tempo increasing with each verse. Afterwards, the cheers and applause grew to such volume that the din threatened to cover any further sound the musicians might make. When it died down, they played another tune, and then another. Feet stamped and hands clapped until those with strong backs lifted a number of tables out of the way. Dancers leaped and turned in the torchlight.

Kai ate venison and, when the others tried to draw him into the dance, smiled his refusal. He could not join in frivolity while his heart beat heavy in his chest. He recognized grief at Maeven’s releasing him from service but rejected the notion his sorrow had anything to do with Shae. Deep down, though, he couldn’t deny the truth. No more secrets now joined him to Shae, and there no longer remained even the illusion of blood ties between them. Would she reject him for deceiving her?

****

Misliking the cloying honeyed sweetness of the mead, Shae set the silver cup on the bedside table. She’d eaten little of the repast Chaeldra had brought. Shock at Maeven’s revelations must have affected her appetite. How would the truth alter her associations with Aeleanor and the rest of those she had long called family?

She pushed away the idea that her upset came from losing Kai, but the thought returned unbidden. She blinked away a mist of tears. He had always been part of her life. She could not imagine that changing.
Kai has seemed too alone and little given to tender mercies—except, of course, when duty calls for tenderness.
Daelic’s words haunted her. Had Kai given her his tenderness as mere duty? And what would happen now that his duty ended?

“Will you not take more?” Chaeldra asked. “You’ve eaten little.”

Shae demurred, but Maeven ate a little of the thick fine bread and musty cheese, and she let Chaeldra refill her cup. After a short sleep, Maeven had declared herself ready to recover.

Eufemia, who embroidered near the fire, refused refreshment. Her needle, threaded with blue silk, flashed in and out of the crimson linen she worked. She made a pretty picture in the soft firelight, garbed in yellow, head bent, long fair hair bound in a plait that fell over one shoulder to her waist.

Chaeldra perched on a cushioned bench opposite Eufemia. How strange that Eufemia, in constant motion, possessed an air of calm, whereas Chaeldra, who held herself in utter stillness, did not. Now that Shae thought about it, Chaeldra seemed somehow different this night. Color flared in her cheeks and a bright expectancy radiated from her, making her look suspiciously like a certain chambermaid at Whellein right before she ran off with a groomsman. How
had
Chaeldra spent her afternoon? Shae decided to question her servant later in privacy.

A low moan came from the bed, and Shae turned to find Maeven with her eyes rolled up and her face ashen. Her chest rose and fell in an uneven tempo.

“What ails you?” Shae rose—or at least she tried to stand. Her legs refused to take her weight. She grasped the arms of her chair for support.“Ha!” Chaeldra stood over Maeven, her delighted smile and triumphant look lending her a strange beauty. “She’ll not order me around again. No one will when I’m Lof Raelein.”

“What have you done?” Eufemia jumped to her feet. The embroidery that fell from her hands seemed to take a long time to slide to the floor.

Chaeldra tossed her head, and honey-colored hair spilled unchecked from her cap. “Only what needed doing.”

Eufemia stood as if she braced against a wind. “You are mad!”

Chaeldra laughed. “If so, I prefer my madness to your sanity. Look at you, living your life for another with little to call your own. You disgust me!” Chaeldra’s arm jerked back. As her slap reported through the room, Eufemia spun around. She caught herself on a chair and stared at Chaeldra with horror. A red stain spread over her cheek.

Struggling to her feet, Eufemia lurched toward the door.

Chaeldra followed

The two fell together, locked in a deadly embrace. Chaeldra’s hands clawed Eufemia’s throat but ran with blood as Eufemia’s nails dug into them.

Vomit pressed at the back of Shae’s throat, and her knees gave way. She slid to the floor and retched.

Eufemia bucked, casting off Chaeldra, but when she tried to rise she rolled into the flaemling cage.

It tilted and crashed, and the cage door opened. A cloud of bright birds burst forth. The linen cage cover fell over Eufemia, as if to conceal her, but Chaeldra jerked it aside and threw herself onto Eufemia. Her breaths quickened as she squeezed Eufemia’s throat.

Eufemia’s strangled cry cut away into silence.

Chaeldra stood, panting.

Eufemia lay motionless.

Shae closed her eyes and stilled her breathing just as Chaeldra’s shadow fell across her. After what seemed an eternity, it withdrew. Even then, Shae held her breath until she could endure no more. Gasping in air, she opened her eyes a slit.

Chaeldra was nowhere in sight. Beyond the gaping outer chamber door the deep timbre of a masculine voice mingled with Chaeldra’s high-pitched tones.

Shae curled around another cramp and could not repress a moan. She turned her head and retched again, and then darkness shut her in.

13

Death and Life

The door to Elcon’s outer chamber creaked, and Benisch peered at Kai and Craelin through the opening with an expression of disdain. “Do you visit the Lof Frael so late with business?”

Kai hid his amusement, for Benisch often kept Elcon late with business.

“Let them in!” Elcon called from within the room, a note of relief in his voice.

Benisch yielded but muttered beneath his breath as they brushed past him.

Elcon warmed himself near the hearth. His posture and the abstracted tilt to his head stirred for Kai a vision of Timraen. What thoughts belabored the Lof Frael? Kai didn’t envy Elcon his duties, having observed the lives of those who ruled Faeraven long enough to understand the twin burdens of sacrifice and privilege they bore.

Elcon speared his steward with a glance. “We can resume tomorrow, Benisch. Weightier matters than
chrins
of oil and
bursels
of barley require my attention this night.”

Benisch frowned and opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again and executed a bow. “Until tomorrow, then, Lof Frael.” The outer door shut with a firm click.

Elcon turned to Craelin. “I’m anxious to hear what you learned in your questioning of the guardians
,
Craelin, and I would know more of this strategy you plan.”

Craelin crossed to Elcon at once. “The questioning proved fruitful. The wingabeast keeper, Guaron, noticed of late a disturbance among the creatures that might confirm the wingabeasts used in the raids came from Torindan. All the guardians
,
when questioned, spoke with integrity. I would swear…” Craelin’s voice choked off.

Kai bolted the door before joining Elcon and Craelin at fireside. He welcomed its warmth, for drafts chilled the chamber.

Craelin recovered himself and continued. “We think it’s safest to take our spies from outside the guardians—from among the tracker
s
.”

“You have chosen them?”

“We have selected two trackers—the brothers Dorann and Eathnor. They should arrive soon.”

“What can you tell me about them?”

“They come from the household of Nimram in Torindan proper—an honorable family. Their father Jost leads those who track and hunt to supply Torindan’s table. Dorann and Eathnor have learned well their father’s skills. Erinae, their mother, often helps the
Ewaeri
, the priests and guardians of justice, to distribute alms
to the poor. Jaenell, their mother’s mother, used her knowledge of herbs to aid the unfortunate until her own death at a venerable age.”

Elcon crossed his arms. “And do Dorann and Eathnor share a knowledge of herbs?”

Craelin’s brows drew together. “I don’t know, but I cannot see how—”

“We may have need of one with such skills soon.”

Tapping came at the door, and Kai admitted the trackers. Eathnor entered, with a bounce in his step bespeaking stores of exuberant energy held in check. His gaze, clear blue and piercing in a sun-browned face, went at once to Elcon. He made his bow. “Lof Frael.”

Dorann followed his brother into the chamber and bowed also, but did not speak. Of the two, Eathnor had the claim to age and height. Hair streaked in hues of light brown swept his brow, cut in the short style hunters adopted to prevent any intrusion upon their vision. By contrast, Dorann’s hair flamed red and freckles peppered a short nose beneath intense amber eyes. He spoke little, but seemed to miss nothing. He would, Kai had learned, allow his older brother to speak for them both.

Craelin greeted them. “Thank you for attending my wishes at such a late hour. Did my directions lead you through the keep without trouble?”

Eathnor gave him a frank look. “We found it easy.”

Kai hid a smile. They were, after all, trackers.

****

“Shall we sit?” Elcon indicated the strongwood table that dominated the room and waited as Kai took his place beside Craelin. The trackers pulled out chairs on the opposite side of the table and glanced around the rich chamber with bright curiosity. Torches flamed, and a small fireplace on the rear wall corralled flames that bunched and splayed, casting dubious heat. Maps of Elderland hung on the hewn stone of the side walls, suspended by tasseled cords. Behind Elcon, a massive tapestry depicted the Battle of Pilaer.

“How much have you told them?” Elcon asked Craelin.

“They know they are to watch over the wingabeasts and report any disturbances without acting upon them.”

“That’s important,” Elcon acknowledged. “We don’t want your parents to suffer the loss of two sons.”

Eathnor leaned back in his chair. “We will use caution, but our parents would accept such a loss in service to Torindan.”

Elcon inclined his head. “Well spoken. Let us hope they will never need to make such a sacrifice.” He swung a glance to Craelin. “How will you situate them?”

“During the day they can sleep in quarters above the gatehouse. They already dine often in the hall, so none will question their presence at meals.”

“Will their absence among the huntsmen be noted?”

With a glance, Craelin deferred the question to Eathnor.