The Darathi Vorsi Prince (Song of the Swords Book 0) (13 page)

“
Is your meal that bad
?
”

Rhoane jerked his attention away from the window and his musings
.“
I did not hear you knock
.
”

“
I imagine you did
n’
t. May I join you
?”
Myrddin took a seat opposite Rhoane before h
e’
d consented
.“I’
m sorry I was
n’
t here last night to assist with the birth. I thought we had more time
.”
He pushed his palms against his forehead
.“
I visited a spice merchant in the city and had him make up two potions. One for healing the queen, the other for easing her passing
.
”

“
You were unsure she would survive the ordeal. But you told me this child must live. The future of her House depended on it. I assumed it had something to do with th
e
Darennsa
i
.
”

“
I wish I knew the future, Rhoane.
I’
ve found it useful to prepare for every situation. When yo
u’
ve lived as long as I have, you learn not to get too attached. The king and queen, the
y’
re good people. Loving, kind, decent rulers who want the best for their subjects. I sometimes wish Lliandra could be more like them, but she is who she is. She was shaped by a tradition dating back to the beginning of Aelinae. As were Faisal and Prateeni, and every other ruler
.
”

His gaze traveled to the now empty courtyard. A throaty resonance entered his tone
.“
I
t’
s time those traditions were remade. Tha
t’
s why I think Aelinae needs the Eirielle. Some say she will destroy Aelinae, others say sh
e’
s the savior. In the end, it will come down to her
.
”

“
You think I will have something to do with her decision
.
”

“
You will have everything to do with it
.”
Myrddin bit into a piece of fruit, ignoring the juices that ran down his chin and through his beard. Three more bites were consumed before he wiped his face with his sleeve
.“
The king wants to go riding with you this afternoon
.
”

“
Will you join us
?”
The idea of spending the day with Faisal did
n’
t bring joy to Rhoan
e’
s heart.

“I’
m afraid not. I have some business in the city and preparations for my departure
.
”

“
We are leaving? So soon after the birth of the prince
?
”

“I’
m leaving. You and Faelara are staying until you feel the quee
n’
s health is not at risk
.
”

Rhoane did
n’
t tell him the queen was fit. He debated asking whether there was another reason they were being left behind, but he held back. Whatever reasons the empress had for sending Myrddin alone were hers. Truth be told, he did
n’
t relish the thought of continuing their search for his betrothe
d’
s father.

“
Lliandra wants me to ride west to Danuri, and then Caer Idris
.”
Myrddin broke into his thoughts
.“
The Lord of the Dark is blissfully wed with an eight-year-old heir, no less, but sh
e’
s heard he has a cousin who might be a proper match for her.
I’
ve been instructed to deliver him to Talaith
.
”

“
I do not envy you this journey, but appreciate you allowing Lady Faelara and myself to care for the queen and her child
.
”

“
Ride with Faisal. Get to know him as a king, a father, and a man. I think you will be surprised by what you discover
.
”

Myrddi
n’
s cryptic words piqued his interest
.“
I promise you, I shall
.”
Perhaps Faisal was not the bellowing tyrant Rhoane thought him to be.

A few days later, the men said their farewells, and Myrddin unobtrusively left the palace. As Rhoane watched his new friend amble down the cobbled road toward the harbor, he wished him well on his hunt. For tha
t’
s what it truly wa
s—
a hunt for the perfect specimen. It mattered not if Lliandra loved her mate, as long as he could produce a worthy heir. Rhoane shook his head. Pity lodged in his throat. He hoped when the Darennsai learned of their pairing she would view him as more than an obligation.

Faisal beckoned Rhoane to join him, and for a moment, Rhoane envied the man. In one arm he held his tiny son, while the other draped casually over the shoulders of his wife. Their expressions were twin beacons of love. The pity in Rhoan
e’
s throat gagged him. It was no longer for the empress, but for his unsuspecting future mate. She, like him, had never had a choice.

The king and queen cooed over their child, adoration flowing from their words. Rhoane swallowed his anger. The queen was wron
g—
he would never be free. He was in bondage to his goddess. He would never know the love the king and queen shared. He stormed past the monarchs, ignoring their surprised cries.

Chapter 11

LUCITAN galloped along the southeastern shores of the Summerlands, having left Menurra far behind. H
e’
d ridden through orchards and vineyards, and fields where workers toiled in the midday heat, but here on the beach, there was
n’
t another soul to be found. For one wild moment, Rhoane dreamt of living out the rest of his days hidden away from the rest of the world.

The coastline had many caves, certainly one was habitable. Except Rhoane hated water. He would never survive so near the sea. A cave in the mountains or near the Narthvier would be ideal.

Rhoane wore an impish grin as he dismounted and unfastened Lu
c’
s girth. He placed the saddle and bridle on a patch of hard sand far from the surf
.“
Go on, boy. Graze on the tall grasses, but do
n’
t drink the water
.”
Luc snorted and trotted off, shaking his head and bucking his back legs.

He removed his boots and rolled his linen breeches up to his knees before settling onto the sand. His thoughts crashed in time to the waves. The repetitiveness of the sound was like a lullaby to his stretched nerves. He lay back, propped on his elbows, and stared at the rolling waves. There was symmetry to their movements, and he wondered what made some water roil, like the surf of the sea, and some water placid, like lakes.

His spontaneous laughter frightened nearby birds that scavenged the shoreline. Those thoughts were better left for men like Brandt. Men who studied the stars. Not an Eleri who, until recently, had never seen moving water.

The sun warmed him into a tranquil state. He was tired of being angry, of questioning what was right, and he was more than tired of having the same debate over and over again within his mind. No matter how he approached the argument, he came no closer to finding a solution to his situation. He was being too impatient, not allowing the future to unfold as h
e’
d been told, but trying to force his desires on destiny.

He touched the hilt of his sword. Verdaine had told him h
e’
d know the Darennsai by her own sword. But where was it? And where was she? If Lliandra was to be her mother, who then, the father? How long must he wait for her? Eleri lived hundreds of seasons, perhaps he should find a cave and wait until destiny caught up to him.

The idea was amusing, but impractical. A shadow caught his attention and he squinted in the bright sunlight. The woman with eyes as blue as the deepest sea appeared before him. Her long, silvery hair floated on the breeze. She wore no clothing but was covered in stars, as if beneath her skin the very sky existed. She laughed, and it was the sweetest sound h
e’
d ever heard. Full of hope and promises.

“
Always be curious
,”
she teased
.“
Never accept that what you see is all there is
.”
Her accented voice touched his heart and embedded itself into his very marrow
.“
Take risks, make mistakes, and get messy. Be brave, and do what frightens you most, but always, always have hope, my beloved
.”
She bent as if to caress his cheek, and a warm breeze swept over his skin. Her lips pressed to his with surprising solidness.

All too soon, their lips parted.

“
Who are you
?”
He breathed the words, afraid any sound might frighten her away.

She laughed once more and stepped back
.“
I am yours, mi carae. Forever
.
”

Lucitan galloped up the shore, spraying water with each pound of his hooves. In an instant, he tore through the image, and Rhoane screamed at him to stop, but the woman was gone. Only the scent of jasmine and sea air remained.

He sat upright and glared at his horse. Luc gazed back with indifference, then turned suddenly and trotted into the surf.

“
You stupid beast, come here at once
.”
Lu
c’
s coat dripped from his shenanigans, and Rhoane cursed him under his breath
.“
We have no time for these games. Come. Here
.”

Luc lowered his head to the surf, gathering water in his lips and showering Rhoane with it. If he did
n’
t know better, h
e’
d think the stallion was challenging him. He paced the shore for a quarter bell, trying everything to coax his horse out of the water. Luc would prance and trot in circles, flip his mane and tail, spray water, or paw at the surf, but he never came a pace closer to the shore.

Irritated at the ridiculousness of his own fear of water, Rhoane finally stripped off his breeches and shirt, cursing the entire time. As he stood on the shore in nothing but his smallclothes, he glared at Lucitan
.“
See what you have done? You are forcing me into the water. Are you happy now
?
”

Luc whinnied and tossed his head.

“
This is ludicrous. I should sell you to the Artagh. They will make a nice meal of you, no doubt
.”
He plunged into the surf and ignored the panic that swept up his spine. When the waves crashed around his knees, he paused long enough to battle a wave of nausea. Luc eyed him warily, but did not back away.

Six more steps, and Rhoane was beside his horse, gasping. The turquoise water lapping at his legs was warm, not at all menacing. He rested his head against the stallio
n’
s neck and let his heart rate return to normal. The longer he stood there, the more comfortable he became
.
Take risks. Make mistakes
.
Tha
t’
s what the vision had told him.

Sh
e’
d also called him her beloved.

Luc nudged him, and Rhoan
e’
s laughter bubbled up from deep inside. How asinine he must look standing thigh-deep in the surf, almost naked,and leaning against his horse for support. He pulled himself atop Lu
c’
s back and tilted his face to the sky
.
Be brave, and do what frightens you most, but always, always have hope.

Rhoane nudged Luc into a trot, and together they raced along the shore until they were soaked. With each thunderous crash of Lu
c’
s hooves, Rhoane released his fear, his anger, his well-honed rage. Twice the beauty had shown herself to him when he needed her most. Like faerie drossfire during the darkest days of Wintertide, she staved off the blackness that threatened his sanity. Both times there was gaiety in her eyes and laughter upon her lips. If she were his Darennsai, she did
n’
t appear to resent the obligation.

And if she was
n’
t his Darennsai? What if she was a vision meant to lure him astray?

He stopped the thoughts that nudged at his tentative calm. Whoever she was, and come what may, he welcomed her company.

He and Lucitan chased waves and galloped along the shore until the sun hovered over the cliffs to the east. Luc brought them back to where the
y’
d left their belongings and trotted to a stop, his chest heaving with the exciting ride. Rhon
e’
s heart pounded against his ribs. There he was, an Eleri riding an Ullan stallion on a deserted Summerlands beach. How vain h
e’
d been. How positively self-righteous. H
e’
d been raised to believe the Eleri were above all Fadair, but no one culture was above another, except for the gods. And someday the Darennsai would reside in Dal Tara with his goddess, Verdaine.

He slid from the stallion, sore from the ride, hungry, and sunburned, but he did
n’
t care. His mood was lighter than it had been in far too long. The setting sun cast long shadows over the beach, and he shivered against the encroaching chill. H
e’
d ridden in a daze, unsure of the path h
e’
d taken to the beach. Trying to find his way back to the palace at night would be suicide. Instead, he donned his clothing and searched the area for driftwood.

Once he had a fire made, he stretched out on the hard sand and fell into a deep sleep. He dreamt not of the platinum-haired woman, but of myth
s—
of the merfolk and their king. They swam with him beneath the sea to a palace made of coral with alabaster columns and spirals of whalebone. The king welcomed him, calling him Surtentse.

In his dream, the king told him the story of how the Surtentse and Darennsai became lovers. Of how she, being made of moonstone and stardust, lived in the sky, and he, a young sapling, lived on the terrarae. Each day and night they would gaze upon each other, never touching or speaking, but knowing in their hearts they were destined to be as one. Then one day, the Darennsai could bear it no more and fell from the sky, plummeting to the terrarae and her death.

The sapling did what anyone in love would d
o—
he grew wings. He stretched his branches and leaves until he flew to meet her and captured the Darennsa
i
just in time. They tumbled together into the sea, where something extraordinary happened. They grew arms and legs, torsos and faces. They became man and woman.

There, in the warm waters of the Summerlands sea, they swam together and consummated their love. But when the Surtentse stepped out of the water, he became a sapling once more. He returned to the safety of the water. Night came and there was no moon, no stars lit the dark sky, and they were frightened. If the Darennsai was not returned to the sky, life on Aelinae would cease to exist.

And so she returned to her heavenly home, and he to the terrarae.

Rhoane woke with a start. Embers from the fire glowed softly in the pre-dawn light. He sat up and shook his head to clear his thoughts. The dream lingered still, vivid in his mind, yet details slipped away. There was much more to the dream, to the story, but each time he reached for more, he remembered less.

A nagging disquiet lingered. Something the darathi eneari had told him, he was certain and yet it, too, escaped him.

His stomach gave a vicious tug, and he stumbled from his makeshift bed to the edge of the shoreline. He scooped a handful of water into his hands and brought it to his face
.
Darathi eneari
.
He splashed the water on his face and again several more times. In his dream, there was a darathi enear
i—
a water dragon. He was certain of it. But they did
n’
t exist. They were legends, nothing more.

Luc trotted to his side, and Rhoane gazed out over the horizon where the sun rose in the west. To some, the Darennsai was nothing but a legend, yet he believed she was real. If she could exist, then certainly so could merfolk and darathi eneari.

He returned to the palace before breakfast, but the place was a hive of activity. Several clusters of men on horseback waited in the courtyard. Faelara marched toward a white mare, her face set into a hard line. When she glanced up and saw him, palpable relief swept over her features.

“
Thank the gods! We thought you were kidnapped by pirates
.”
She hurried over to him, concern replacingher relief
.“
Rykot
o’
s balls, Rhoane, what happened to you
?
”

A pinch of guilt twisted in his gut. She mus
t’
ve been worried about him. He surveyed the soldiers. Faisal was sending out a full regiment to search for him. How selfish h
e’
d been to stay on the beach without letting the others know he was well.

“
I am sorry, Faelara. I lost my way, and it became too dark to travel safely
.
”

“
Yo
u’
re sunburned. Come, le
t’
s get you fed and salved
.
”