The Betrayal (43 page)

You look like your father.

I can be every bit as annoying as he.

Eliani chuckled, then glanced at the others, conscious of their concern. It was wrong to speak privately with Turisan before them. She did not wish to be rude to her kin.

Heléri took Eliani's torn hand between both of her own and closed her eyes. The sudden heat of her khi
made Eliani catch her breath. After a few moments, the warmth faded and Heléri opened her eyes.

“I can sense nothing amiss. We should visit the Healers Hall. They will want to examine Kelevon as well.”

Heléri glanced at Turisan, who nodded. She returned her gaze to Eliani and gently squeezed her hand.

“Do not be frightened, child. Remember who watches over you.”

Eliani gave a weak smile. “You, my eldermother.”

“And your own mother. And many others.”

Turisan's hand squeezed her shoulder. “Lady Heléri, I have a boon to ask of you. How long do you think it might take you to weave a handfasting ribbon?”

Heléri gazed up at him, a smile slowly growing on her lips. She glanced at Eliani, then without a word stood up and went to the shelves set into the chamber wall. From among her possessions resting there she took up a long, slender box of whitewood carved with twining willow leaves, which she brought back and laid upon Eliani's lap.

Eliani looked at her in surprise, then lifted the lid from the box. Inside reposed a ribbon, folded many times, the visible span of which showed images of stars, woodlands, fountains, rivers, and golden fires-pear trees.

Elaini gave a little cry, letting the box's lid fall as she caught up the ribbon. It tingled against her palms and cascaded in coils to the floor as she explored its length. Her name and Turisan's shone out in golden script, along with blessings and many beautiful images of both their lands, all entwined with the blue and violet of Stonereach, the pale green and silver of Greenglen.

Turisan knelt beside her and caught a span of the ribbon in his hands. “When did you begin it?”

“The night you told me you shared mindspeech.”

He laughed softly. “You knew better than we.”

“You had many questions to ponder. I saw this one thing clearly, though I did not know how soon it would come to pass.”

“Oh, Eldermother, thank you!” Eliani reached up to catch Heléri's hands, loops of ribbon spilling from her lap. “It is beautiful!”

Turisan nodded. “Most beautiful. A rare gift.”

Felisan came forward to admire the ribbon. “You shall have to think about when you wish to use it.”

Eliani looked up at him, then at Turisan. “To night.”

Turisan smiled. “It need not be to night.”

“Yes, it must, because I want your ribbon on my arm when I start again for Fireshore.”

Felisan frowned. “Fireshore?”

Eliani looked from him to Heléri to Turisan, watching their smiles fade. “Kelevon deceived us.”

“We do not know that.”

Eliani shook her head impatiently. “Why did he come here if not to deceive us? Why would he risk discovery? That letter was sent by the alben! Father, you yourself doubted its authenticity.”

“So I did.” He looked aggrieved. “Kelevon must be questioned.”

Turisan glanced up at him. “If I know my father, he is already doing so.”

“I doubt Kelevon will cooperate.” Eliani felt her anger returning but shook it off. “We are back to where we were before he arrived. I must go to Fireshore at once.”

“Eliani—”

“We have already lost two days.”

She gazed earnestly at Turisan, hoping he would understand. His face was taut with concern.

“She is right.”

Luruthin raised his head. He had been silent until
now, brooding as he gazed at the fire, but now he looked at Eliani.

“I will ride with you if you still wish it, Cousin.”

Turisan glanced at him sharply, then shook his head. “I will go.”

Eliani reached for his hand. “Jharan needs you here. And if—if the alben do suffer a sickness, I am already at risk.”

Turisan's brows drew together in a frown. Eliani pressed his hand tightly.

“Let us be handfasted to night.”

He sighed and gave a rueful smile. “I would like nothing better, but I fear my father will object. He will want a large celebration with dignitaries from every ælven realm—”

“If the dignitaries who are here for the Council do not satisfy him, he may have his celebration after Eliani returns.” Heléri smiled. “That will not be so very long.”

“I will handle Jharan.” Felisan turned to Luruthin, who sat staring at his hands clasped between his knees. “Luruthin, you will stand with me for Stonereach.”

Luruthin looked up, startled. Eliani thought he seemed alarmed and shook her head.

“You need not.”

Her father shrugged. “It is Luruthin or Curunan. Or one of the guardians. Heléri will be presiding.”

Luruthin managed a laugh. “One of the escort to stand for her while her own kin declines? That would not look very well, I think.” His face became serious. “I will be honored to assist in the ceremony.”

Felisan clapped him on the shoulder.

“We had best prepare, then. Come, help me do away with Jharan's objections. In truth, I fear him less than I fear Jhinani. She will no doubt be surprised at this addition to the evening's agenda.”

Eliani rose to walk with them to the door, leaving the ribbon behind on her chair. With a strange, breathless feeling, she realized what she had set in motion. She was going to be handfasted this night.

When her father and Luruthin had gone, she turned back and looked at Turisan. He stood watching her, softly smiling. She wanted to run into his arms but was conscious of Heléri's presence. She glanced down at her soiled gown.

“I suppose I ought to bathe and change. Again.”

Heléri began to gather up the handfasting ribbon. “I asked Misani to have a bath brought to your chamber. You had better change your clothes as well, Turisan.”

“Yes.” He turned to help Heléri, picking up the whitewood box Eliani had abandoned. “Thank you, Lady Heléri. We all assumed you would perform the ceremony, but if …”

She paused to smile at him. “Of course I will perform it. Nothing would give me greater joy.”

Eliani joined them in folding the ribbon and returning it to its box. Her hand brushed against Turisan's, and she glanced up at him. He smiled.

Keep that gown.

It is ruined!

I am fond of it. Make me a kerchief from it.

If you had ever seen my needlework, you would not ask that.

His eyes glinted with silent laughter.
I shall treasure your needlework.

Eliani felt her heart fill with joy. Suddenly self-conscious, she bent to fold the last of the ribbon and lay it carefully in the box. Heléri closed it and took it from Turisan's hands.

“Go, now, children. Make you ready.”

Eliani stood up and caught Heléri in a hug. “Thank you, Eldermother.”

“You are welcome. Hurry now.”

Eliani and Turisan left together, pausing in the corridor outside Eliani's chamber. Torchlight glinted warmly in Turisan's pale hair, but the air was chill. Eliani shivered, and Turisan caught her close for a moment.

I am the luckiest soul walking in flesh.

Eliani leaned her head on his shoulder and pressed her eyes closed, feeling a shadow of her old fear.
Say that in a year and a day.

I will say it every day of my life.

He held her at arm's length, gazing into her eyes, his dark eyes filled with love. Eliani felt her fear fly away, caught on a breeze of cold fountain mist. She smiled as he bent to kiss her. A moment's tenderness, then they said a silent farewell as they parted.

Turisan hastened to his chambers, his soul filled with gladness, though it was mitigated by sorrow that he must part with Eliani the next day. He shook off that regret. To night was theirs. In a short time they would be joined forever. His heart beat faster at the thought.

In his chambers he found Pheran, a youth he favored as his personal attendant because he made the least fuss of any of the palace folk, awaiting him. Jharan or Jhinani must have sent him.

“All happiness to you, my lord!”

Turisan nodded. “Thank you.”

“I took the liberty of laying out a robe for you.”

Pheran led him to his tiring room, and Turisan saw that Pheran's usual understanding of his taste had failed him. The youth held up a robe of silver weave heavily crusted with peridots and lined in brocaded silk. It had been a gift from Jharan, and Turisan had worn it once to please his father, but it was as uncomfortable as it was beautiful.

“No. My lady has no such rich attire. Find something like the tunic I took to Alpinon. The same, if you like.”

Disappointment showed in Pheran's dark eyes. “So simple as that?”

“Yes.”

Turisan picked up a comb and turned away. He stripped off his court clothes, frowning as he noticed the blood smeared on the back of the tunic: Eliani's blood, from her poor wounded hands.

“This one, my lord?”

Turisan turned to see Pheran holding up a long tunic of double-woven silver and soft green, its pattern of leaves and tiny silver flowers. It was a little grander than he liked but much better than Pheran's first choice, and there was no time to spare.

“Yes, all right. Some plain green legs to go with it. Hurry now.”

Turisan changed into the tunic and donned the legs that Pheran fetched, then combed out his hair and caught two strands back from his face. Pheran braided them with a third at the back, tying it all off with a silver ribbon. Knowing his father would want him to show token of his rank, Turisan took out the fillet he had worn in Highstone at the handfasting of Eliani's cousin. Pheran removed it from his hands.

“Forgive me, my lord, but Lord Jharan told me you were not to wear aught but this.” He proffered the larger coronet set with a single pale green stone that Turisan customarily wore on state occasions.

“I had rather not.”

Pheran's brow creased with concern. Turisan had to laugh, and relented.

“All right. Neither of us wants to endure my father's wrath.”

Looking relieved, Pheran set the coronet on Turisan's head, and they both turned to the mirror to observe its
effect. The green stone gleamed in the torchlight, and the tunic's silver threads glinted golden, like Turisan's pale hair spilling over his shoulders. It would do.

On impulse, Turisan pressed the smaller fillet into Pheran's hands as they left the tiring room. “Take this to my lady. Tell her it is my gift. Go on, I am ready.”

Pheran hurried out. Turisan drew a deep breath, then followed him. The handfasting would likely take place in one of the public rooms, a smaller one, he hoped.

He was not to enjoy such fortune. He found his father waiting in the corridor outside the northern entrance to the great hall.

Jharan, wearing his coronet of state and a long robe of brocade in many shades of green embroidered all over with silver and ornamented with white and green gems, took in Turisan's attire with a look of silent resignation. He then broke into a smile and embraced him.

“I am most happy for you, my son.”

“Thank you, Father. Thank you for honoring our wishes.”

“Hm. Felisan gave me to understand I had little choice.”

Lady Jhinani joined them, dressed in a fine gown of silver-gray adorned with pearls over a dress of pale green silk. She carried two long ribbons, one of sage the other of silver, which she handed to Jharan.

Turisan welcomed her with a smile. “Do you stand for me, Jhinani? I am glad.”

Jhinani smiled. “It is my honor and my plea sure. I wish you great happiness.”

Thank you for the gift, my lord.

Starting, Turisan smiled even as he met his father's gaze. Jharan raised an eyebrow.

You are welcome.

Eliani's thought-touch still thrilled him whenever he
felt it. He said no more, not wanting to offend those with whom he stood.

At last the door before them opened, and the murmur inside the great hall died to a hush. Jharan signaled his color bearer, who carried the Greenglen pennant on a long staff, to precede them into the hall.

Music rang out as they entered, a fanfare of twin trumpets from the gallery above. Turisan saw the councillors ranged along the raised dais at the west side of the circular hall, where ordinarily Jharan sat as he held audience. The hall was filled with the kindred and entourages of all the councillors and with many ranking citizens of Glenhallow. Despite the short notice they had come in force, wearing their finest to honor the occasion.

As the Greenglen party entered from the north, the Stonereach colors were carried in from the south, and Turisan glimpsed Eliani beyond her kindred. He had guessed aright; she wore the same gown of blue and violet silks she had worn in Highstone. Probably it was her best.

She looked well in it. The rich colors set her skin aglow. She wore the fillet he had sent, silver bright against her warm auburn hair. She glanced up and smiled at him, and his spirits soared.

The hall fell silent as Heléri came forward to the top of the steps, holding aloft the handfasting ribbon. Turisan gazed at it, marveling anew at its beauty.