Ravenmarked (The Taurin Chronicles) (3 page)

Being with Helene was easy. They didn’t discuss certain subjects, neither of them expected commitment or obligation, and she paid him only for protection—nothing more. When he wanted to leave, he would find another noble or merchant to escort or a battle to fight where his skill with a sword would earn him a good wage. The freelance life eased his restlessness and brought all the money, adventure, and women he wanted.

Maeve twisted her mouth and gestured around the room. “Connor, does this fulfill you? Are you happy?”

“You’re not one to lecture on happiness.” His tone was more irritable than he intended, and he regretted the words.

A shadow of old pain crossed Maeve’s face. Maeve and his father had loved each other deeply, but her magic, his nobility, her duties, the law—all had conspired to keep them from being wed. They were always torn between their two worlds. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“It means I’ll miss the hunt. And I’ll have to spend the winter in Sveklant. I was looking forward to Dal’Imur.”

“For the money?”

“And the sun.”

The jaw muscle twitched again. “Please.”

He considered it. “Will you release me from the bond?”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“Connor—”

“That’s my price. Release me from the bond, and I’ll take this woman to Sveklant.”

“After you deliver her.” She held up a hand when he started to protest. “I want to know exactly what you are doing any time I wish it.”

He laughed. “You want to spy on me?”

“Yes. This girl was raised in the Order of Sai Atena. She’s only known the life of the sayada. She’s young and chaste and innocent, and I don’t want you defiling her.”

“She must be pretty or you wouldn’t warn me.”

“Connor!”

“I swear, Mother, you think I’m a ten-year-old boy.”

She folded her arms. “Only when you act like one.”

“Gods.” He sighed. “I promise to keep my hands and everything else to myself. But I won’t be something I’m not. You ask me to do this, you get me—not some soft Brae Sidh water talent who’s never eaten meat and can’t swing a sword. I can keep my breeches on, but I can’t promise that she won’t be a little shocked by everything else that I am.”

Maeve rolled her eyes. “So we’re agreed? If I release you when you’re done, you will do this?”

He hesitated just enough to make her squirm. “Yes.” Maeve blew out a long breath. “But I don’t want anyone associating my name with this. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m involved in Taurin politics when I go back to my work.”

“Use your Sidh name.”

“All right. You’ll warn the sayas about who you’re sending?”

“Yes. When can you be here?”

“I have to take this merchant train first. I’ll leave tomorrow and see if I can talk them into leaving a few days early, but I can’t back out. I don’t know anyone close who can take them through Nar Sidhe country.”

“Is that the best you can do?”

“I made a promise.”

“Very well. I’ll meet you on Macha Tor when you get to Taura.”

He sat down on the bed. “One more thing—when I’m done with this, I’m done. This is the last obligation I have to the Sidh. Don’t ask me to do anything for duty or prophecy or magic again. Release me from the bond and that’s it. I’m done with the Sidh, with Taura, with everything. Agreed?”

The tight frown returned, and she crossed her arms. “You can’t run from your magic. It’s in your blood.”

“I’ll deal with the magic, but I want your assurance that I’ll be free of obligation to you.”

“Very well. Just hurry, will you? And Connor—” She reached out and grabbed a handful of his braids.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Cut your hair. The tattoos I can’t do anything about, but this girl—she doesn’t need to be escorted by some savage beast. Can you do that much?”

Even the braids?
He’d earned the right to wear them. They were a sign of his high tribal rank.
They’ll grow back.
He gave her a grudging nod. “Mother.” He took her hand. “I think of my father every day.”

“So do I.” She turned her head, but not before he saw one tear fall. Her voice was tight when she spoke. “Six years—it’s too long. I miss you. I’ve tried to respect your privacy, but you’re the only tie I have to him.”

“You have Edgar.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t seen Edgar since—” A soft sob escaped her throat.

He knew how much that sob cost her. “Since the day we buried my father.”

She nodded.

“I chose the tribes. Edgar didn’t talk me into it.”

She kept her eyes averted, her shoulders tense as she took several calming breaths. When she turned back, her tears were gone. “Edgar didn’t agree with me,” she finally said. “He was afraid for me. When you walked away, he took me to task for binding you. He wanted me to release you.”

Connor didn’t expect that admission. He only remembered Edgar’s fist connecting with his jaw when he fought the binding magic. Edgar had promised that if Connor hurt Maeve again, he would call down the wrath of the entire wolf tribe on Connor’s head.

The words in Connor’s mind slipped out without warning. “I could have slit Mac Rian’s throat in his sleep before anyone knew what happened.”

Maeve’s hand jerked at the mention of the duke who killed Connor’s father, but she kept her face a mask of queenly composure. “Don’t say—”

“Why not?”

“Because of his daughter.” Her voice quivered when she spoke, but this time, it shook with fear rather than grief. “Olwyn Mac Rian is not a woman to challenge,” she whispered. “Please believe me. There is evil there.”

His hand tightened on hers. “When I’m released from this bond, I’ll consider visiting again.”

She nodded and kissed his head. “I’ll see you on Macha Tor.” She lifted her arms, and magic pricked his skin as she commanded the air to carry her back to Taura. Violet air braids wrapped her body from head to toe, concealing her inside the air, and she disappeared over the Aldorean Seas.

Connor let out a long breath and flopped back on the bed, covering his face with one arm. He hadn’t been to Taura in a year, and it had been more than six years since he’d been to the Sidh village, the wolf tribe, his father’s old holdings, or even the capitol city of Torlach. He only returned to participate in the ritual hunt each year. Hunting with the earth magic around him helped sate the Morrag.

The constant ache of her presence flared in his chest like the greeting of an unwelcome relative. He pressed it back. He had tasted the Morrag’s kiss and killed in her name once, and he would not submit to her willingly.
How long? How much more time will you give me before you make me yours?

Only the rasping cackle of the raven replied.

The sweet scent of jasmine and the soft rustle of silk teased him from his thoughts. Helene’s thick Esparan accent tickled his ears as she wrapped her tongue around Taurin words. “I heard a woman’s voice.”

He propped himself up on his elbows. Even nearing her fortieth year, Helene had a beauty that stole his breath. She wore a white sleeveless gown that draped over her body in loose folds. Her light brown arms gave a stunning contrast to the gold filigree trim, and she had belted the simple dress with a beaded belt. Thick black hair hung straight and heavy to her waist, and kohl accented her dark, exotic eyes. “It’s one of those things,” Connor said.

Her mouth tilted into a seductive smile. “Oh. One of those things.” She bent and put her hands on either side of his legs. The curtain of hair fell to one side as she leaned in to kiss his neck, revealing an ear pierced from lobe to crest with the small gold rings of her rank. “You leave sand on the bed.”

He shivered at the sensation of her warm breath on his skin. “That’s the price of your supper. Did you see the fish I caught?”

“Men and fish. You all think yours is the biggest.” Her lips drifted up his neck to his mouth. “You will make amends, yes?”

“If you insist.” Warm lips against his erased the salty taste of the sea. “I have to go,” he said when she drew away from him. “Tomorrow.”

She frowned. “So soon? After but two days?”

“It is regrettable, but duty calls.”

Helene straightened. “I did as you asked. I paid for freedom for my slaves.”

“I know. Your servants told me.”

“Then why—”

“I can’t tell you.”

The crash of waves echoed in the room. “I can pay you more.”

“You know that’s not how this works.”

“Then I have you until tomorrow, yes?”

She untied the blanket around his hips and slid one hand up his thigh to tighten over the blue raven feather on his leg. In Helene’s bedroom, the ravenmark was a curiosity, not a destiny. Connor grinned and pulled her down to the bed. “Till tomorrow, yes.”

Chapter Two

Kings and queens will pass away.

The age of regents will come.

When the Unbeliever takes the throne,

the Forbidden will rise again.

— The Scrolls of Prophecy in the Syrafi Keep, Year of Creation 743

Mairead jumped into a run. A battering ram pounded the front gate of the sayada, and the walls rattled around her.
Now is not the time to walk. Proper sayada behavior will get me killed.

The smoke of a dozen torches hovered above her head as she ran down Sayana Muriel’s private corridor. The sayana had never summoned Mairead to her private quarters before. Now, even as her heart hammered her chest, Mairead’s footsteps slowed when she noticed the runes and drawings on the corridor walls. She stopped to read one, but another crash from above drove her into a run again, fear and necessity replacing curiosity.

At the end of the corridor, she stopped at the sayana’s door. Thin torchlight shone through a crack, and Mairead paused at the sound of anxious voices.

“She’s no child,” one woman said. Mairead recognized Saya Hana’s voice. “She’s of age. She’s been anointed. Bring her forward and let her challenge the usurper.” A long pause. “This is why she was brought to us—why Alshada led her father here. This is what you’ve always believed, Muriel. You trained her, prepared her to take her throne, to bring her line back to Taura.”

“I didn’t count on Braedan,” Sayana Muriel said. “He’s too strong.”

“Stronger than our god?”

Muriel gave a weak laugh. “Our god rarely stops axes from severing heads, Hana. No, she has to go. It’s the only way to keep her safe.”

Mairead’s started to push open the door, but stopped when Hana spoke again. “Then pursue the other course.”

Muriel’s voice could have shattered glaciers. “Forcing her to marry that unbeliever would be as good as turning the reliquary over to our enemies. I will not do it.”

A knot formed in Mairead’s belly.
Marry me to Braedan? That’s what they’ve wanted to do?

“It would give him what he wants—a rightful claim to the throne. And he is her age, and—”

“I said no, Hana. You don’t remember Braedan’s mother and the way his father drove her to the unthinkable. I won’t let that happen to Mairead, and I won’t risk the relics falling into the wrong hands.”

Mairead cleared her throat and pushed open the thick oak door. “Sayana? I’m not afraid. I’ll stay, if you wish it.”

Sayana Muriel turned to Mairead and folded her hands before her. “And would you live with a man who would forever challenge your faith? Or even try to kill you?”

Mairead lifted her chin. “I would do what I must for Taura.”

A bittersweet smile creased Muriel’s grizzled features. Years of the harsh Taurin weather had battered her once-smooth face, but where beauty had reigned, wisdom now held sway. She laid one wrinkled hand on Mairead’s arm. “Your courage is not in question, Mairead. But at the moment, what’s best for Taura is to ensure that you live to return and claim your throne.”

Mairead’s stomach lurched. “But, sayana, I . . .” Words failed her. No amount of education or prayer had readied her heart for this late-night escape.
Fifteen years—it’s not enough.
“I need more time. I have so much more to learn—” Her voice caught. She whispered around the lump in her throat. “This is my home.”

“And if you wish to return to it someday, you must leave it now.” Muriel took her hands. “I’ve taught you all I can teach you. It’s time for you to seek your path with Alshada’s guidance.” Another crash sounded from above. Muriel gestured to a bundle on the floor. “There is no more time. Braedan will kill you if he finds you here. You need to leave your sayada robes behind. Change into those.”

Mairead shed her white wool robes. “Why is Saya Hana here?”

“Saya Hana will serve as your guardian. A guard will accompany you, but it wouldn’t be proper for you to travel alone with a man. Hana will attend you.”

Hana inclined her head, and Mairead winced.
Saya Hana? Well, if it must be.
She liked Saya Hana, but the woman had a sense of propriety that Mairead thought would have interfered with the creation of the world if Alshada had asked her opinion. “I am thankful for your company, Saya Hana.” She slipped a gray wool dress over her shift and pulled on thick, sturdy shoes that matched Hana’s. When she straightened, she noticed Muriel’s eyes glistening. “Sayana, what is it?”

“I see a vision of the girl I raised now become a woman. No small thing.” She pulled Mairead into an embrace.
 
The frailty of age belied the strength of the sayana’s heart and her devotion to duty. “Build an army. Strengthen the rightful royal line, and return when you can claim your throne.”

“Will we ever see each other again?”

“Alshada alone knows.”

Mairead put her arms around Muriel. She struggled to find words. “You’ve been more to me than my own mother could have been,” she finally said.

Muriel’s arms tightened. “Our order is a demanding one, but it is not without its rewards. I grieve the loss of future years watching you grow, but I cherish the years we’ve had together. I could not be prouder of you, Mairead.”

Three heavy knocks shook the door. Hana opened it. A cloaked figure stepped into the room. He pushed the cloak off his shoulders and lowered his hood, and Mairead noticed the sword on his hip and daggers in his belt and boots. He had broad shoulders and a lethal demeanor that tempted Mairead to shrink back, but when he met her eyes, she saw a hint of mischief. A flicker of a grin crossed his mouth as his eyes passed over her. Behind the urgency and fear of the moment, her stomach fluttered, and she felt heat creep up her face.

“This is Connor SilverAir,” Muriel said. “He comes from the Brae Sidh. He’ll escort you to safety.”

Brae Sidh? But he’s so tall. I thought the hidden folk were tiny.
“But the stories—” She stopped.
Now’s not the time to confess to stealing books from the library.
“You told me the Sidh were a myth.”

Connor glared at Muriel. “I’m hardly a myth, sayana.”

“It has been necessary to keep certain things from you,” Muriel told Mairead. “There are some difficult truths in the world. I wanted to keep you from them as long as I could.” She returned Connor’s angry glare with one of her own. “I trust, Connor, that you can fill in some of the gaps in Mairead’s education about the magic on Taura?”

Mairead forced herself to swallow. “Magic on Taura? But—”

“Sayana,” Hana said. “I must protest again. To teach heresy—”

Mairead clenched her fists behind her skirts. “If there is magic on Taura or even if the populace just
believes
there’s magic here, I have a duty to know.”

“Sayana, this is not what I agreed to,” Connor said. “I was only asked to escort her.”

Muriel held up her hands, and everyone fell silent. “Hana, Mairead is right. As heir to the Raven Throne, it’s her duty to know as much of Taurin history as possible, whether the history is kirok-sanctioned or not.” Hana frowned, but she gave Muriel a terse nod. Muriel turned to Connor. “Much may yet be expected of you. You were asked to do this for a reason. I trust our faith in you was not misplaced.”

The battering ram shook the walls again. “Too late for second thoughts now,” Connor said. “Sounds like faith is all you have.” He surveyed Mairead and Hana with tight lips. “Dresses, sayana? We’re not going dancing.”

“If you don’t want this job, you can leave,” Muriel said.

Mairead could see that the thought tempted him, but when he spoke, there was grudging acquiescence. “You could have had them dress more appropriately.”

“Traveling dresses are appropriate. We are doing Alshada’s work,” Hana said.

Connor scoffed. He muttered something that sounded like cursing to Mairead, but she couldn’t make out the words. “A boat is waiting outside the city to take us across the channel and into Culidar before morning.”

Mairead pulled on a dark cloak that Muriel passed her. “How will we get out of Torlach?”

“There are old Sidh passages under the sayada. One comes out north of the castle, beyond the north gate.”

“Can’t we take some of the other sisters with us? If I can get out, we can help more escape,” Mairead said.

Connor shook his head. “It’s too risky. You may not care about your own skin, saya, but I won’t die in Braedan’s dungeon.”

“We’ve sent many away already,” Muriel said. “Minerva and I started sending them away one at a time when we saw that Fergus was on his deathbed. If any of them are captured, they’ll distract the soldiers from you.” She turned to Hana. “You will make sure this young man behaves appropriately around our charge?”

“You don’t trust me, sayana?” Connor asked in an amused tone.

Muriel turned a cool gaze toward him. “You have a reputation that requires prudence on my part.”

“I promised Queen Maeve that I would behave. I keep my promises.”

Hana gave him a doubtful look. “On my honor, sayana.”

A final crash jolted the sayada, and any more questions Mairead had were lost to the sounds of panic above. Muriel ushered everyone into the corridor. “Go—quickly.”

Connor guided Mairead and Hana away from the chaos, further into the most ancient parts of the sayada. He held his torch near the walls to read the runes and drawings.

“What are you doing?” Mairead asked.

“Reading the map.”

“Don’t you already know the way?”

He kept his eyes on the runes. “No.”

“Then how—”

“The Brae Sidh stone talents who built these tunnels put instructions in the drawings. Hush.”

Hana drew in a sharp breath. “Do not speak to the heir that way. She is your liege. Remember your place.”

He turned to the saya, eyes dark and mouth grim in the flickering light. “I bow to no one save the Sidh queen, and that is grudging. I like my head on my shoulders. I’ll speak to your little girl however I wish if it means I can keep it there.”

Hana started to say something, but Mairead shook her head and fell in step behind Connor. He kicked rats aside and cleared cobwebs. The scent of musty earth grew stronger, and the stone walls merged with firmly packed soil.

At last Connor stopped. He held out his hand, touched the earth wall before him, and whispered foreign words. The wall shimmered and faded into nothing. Fresh night air rushed into the passageway. “Is this the way out?” Mairead whispered.

“Yes.”

“Are you a stone talent?”

He put out the torch. “No. I just know the right words and have the right blood.” He motioned for silence and listened. “We’re well beyond the wall, but they’ll be patrolling it. We’ll have to run for the trees.”

“How will we—”

He cast her a look of irritation. “Do you ever stop asking questions? Let me figure out their patrol pattern.” The hair on Mairead’s arms stood up, and she saw thin, faint lines pass through the air before them. The lines twined together in violet braided patterns and snaked out of the opening into the night air. When they returned, Connor grunted and turned to the women again. “I think I have their rhythm down. When I tell you, both of you run for the trees.”

He waited, still and silent as a hunting cat. Mairead closed her eyes and tried to will her heart to stop pounding.
Alshada, keep us safe.

Connor motioned. “Run.”

Mairead ran. Her skirts tangled around her legs, and her shoes tried to slip on the dew-moistened ground. She heard a yelp and a thump and shouts from a distance. She slowed.
I should go back—I should help.
But arrows fell to either side of her, and she quickened her pace again.

Connor caught up. “This way.” He steered her into the trees, stopping near a small rill that ran toward the channel. Distant shouts and the sound of great hounds baying replaced the whir of arrows. “Damn it. Dogs,” he said. “Your escort, Hana—she’s dead.”

Mairead gasped. “No—dead?” Her stomach lurched, and she swallowed over a lump in her throat. “How?”

“An arrow to the back. There’s nothing you can do.” He motioned her to step into the water of the rill. “You’ll just have to be alone with me.”

“But Muriel said—”

He returned to her side. “You want to go back? Fine. I have better things to do than pamper a weak girl.”

She straightened. “I’m not weak.”

He pointed to the rill. “Prove it.”

She stepped into the water. It flooded her shoes, and her toes ached and cramped with the cold. “Which way?”

“Toward the channel.” Connor guided her forward in the faint glow of an eclipsed moon.

The baying of the hounds grew louder, closer. Connor cursed again. “They picked up our scent—hurry.”

Mairead’s shoe slipped, but she balanced herself. “I’m going as fast as I can.”

“Then go faster.”

She struggled to match his pace with grim determination. Connor led her out of the water and down a rocky trail to the channel. Never had Mairead been so grateful for the scent of sea air. A small, unmanned boat waited in a little cove. “That’s it?”