Read The Godspeaker Trilogy Online

Authors: Karen Miller

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fantasy, #Fiction / Fantasy / Epic

The Godspeaker Trilogy (122 page)

BOOK: The Godspeaker Trilogy
10.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“What does it matter where he comes from, Alasdair?” she retorted. “What does it matter if his speech is strange? He saved my life . I’d be dead without him. What does anything matter compared to that?”

Did she even know the knife was back in her hand? Did she know how fierce she looked, how suddenly foreign? With her short hair and her boy’s clothes and a killing light ignited in her eyes?

She saw his shock, and the fury fled her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m tired, Alasdair.” She let the knife fall to the grass. “I’m so tired … and I’m so alone.”

He opened his arms to her, and held her tight to his chest. “Idiot. You’re not alone. You’ve got me. You’re here, safe in Linfoi. What do you mean, he saved your life?”

“In duchy Arbat,” she said, muffled against velvet. “There were footpads. They attacked us. Zandakar …”

“He killed them?”

She nodded. “They had swords and knives. They weren’t intending to ask for directions.”

Could she feel his heart pounding? Surely she had to. “How many?”

“Six. And he was unarmed. Well, except for a club. At first, anyway.”

And you wonder why I’m worried? “I’m glad he saved you,” he said. “Of course I’m glad. But—”

She pulled free of him, stepping back. “What’s going on in duchy Arbat, Alasdair? Armed footpads roaming the country roads? Setting upon innocent travellers with swords ? What are Rudi’s soldiers about, letting ruffians like that run loose about the place?”

He shrugged. His arms were empty. “I don’t know. But you can ask him yourself soon enough. He’s coming here for Father’s funeral and my investiture as duke.”

“Coming here ?” she echoed, dismayed. “Well, yes. Of course he is. All the dukes are coming? Edward and Damwin and Kyrin?”

“That’s right.”

“How soon will they arrive?”

“Three days from now. After Father’s buried and I’m made the next duke we’re supposed to travel south to Kingseat, so I can be confirmed in the High Chapel by the prolate and my king. Except …”

“Yes,” she sighed. “I know. Except.” She pressed a hand to her eyes, then let it fall away. “You haven’t said if you’ll marry me.”

“Rhian …”

The only light now came from the rising moons. It wasn’t much. “What happens next, Alasdair, depends on your answer.”

He wanted to call for someone to bring flaming torches. This wasn’t a conversation to be held in the dark. “I know that. But Rhian—the implications—the consequences—have you thought of—”

“Since leaving the clerica I’ve thought of little else!” Her voice sounded bleak. “It’s you or one of the others. I don’t want them. Do you want me?”

“Do I want you? Rhian, how can you—”

She rested her hand against his chest. Her expression was solemn. Resolute. “I don’t care that my father forbade a match between us. His opinion no longer carries weight. If you want me you can have me. But you can’t have the crown.”

He knocked her hand away, furious. “You think I want you for the crown ?”

“Why not? Everyone else does.”

“I’m not everyone else! I wanted you before there was a crown, remember? I wanted you before Ranald and Simon died, before Eberg died. Even when I knew it was hopeless I wanted you. I wanted you when I was twelve and you were six!”

“You did?” She sounded surprised. “You never told me.”

He wasn’t going to be distracted. She might as well have cut him with her knife. “How can you stand there and accuse me of being like those others? Why come here to marry me if you think I’m like them ?”

“I don’t,” she said, quickly. “Alasdair, I don’t.”

“You just said—”

“Forget what I said. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I told you, I’m exhausted. I’ve come a long way from Todding.”

“You certainly have.” She’d come so far he wasn’t certain he knew her. “Who else in Kingseat knows you’ve fled the clerica? Anyone?”

“The clerica’s dame. And Marlan. Cecily must have told him, she’d have had no choice. And there were Kingseat guards looking for someone at the Pipslock river-station. That’s why it took so long to reach you. We came by road most of the way.”

“Marlan,” he said, feeling sick. “Rhian, you can’t mean to stand against the Prolate of Ethrea. He’s as powerful as a king. And you’re his ward, you—”

Her chin came up, sharply. “No. I’m the Church’s ward. There’s a difference.”

By a hairsbreadth, maybe . But it was an argument that could wait for later. He took her hands. They felt small and cold. “Rhian … when you say I can’t have the crown…”

In the faint light, her eyes were shining. “It’s my birthright, Alasdair. I’m Eberg’s legitimate offspring, his only living heir. No man in this kingdom, not even you, has a greater claim to the throne. I won’t give it away just because I’m a woman. I won’t give it away because Marlan says I must. I won’t give it to him . I’ll go to hell first.”

He wasn’t surprised. How could he be surprised? She was Eberg’s daughter. “So if I marry you …”

“You’ll be my king consort. My chief advisor. Ethrea’s monarch after me. You’ll be a king, and the father of kings. Is that enough for you? I can’t—I won’t —give you more.”

To be made Alasdair, King Consort? He’d never dreamed so high. “And what happens to Linfoi? The duchy needs a duke.”

She slid her hands free of his and folded her arms. “Well… who’d become duke if you dropped dead in your sleep? Henrik?”

“Ludo. Henrik renounced his claim in my cousin’s favour when I came home and he took my place on the council.”

“Did he?” She pulled a face. “No-one told me. Then Ludo would be duke. Is that acceptable to you?”

He nodded. “Ludo’s a good man. I’d thought to name him to the council once Henrik stepped down.”

“Then we’re agreed, at least in principle?” Her lips curved in a tiny smile. She was trying to flirt with him but her eyes were too anxious. “You’ll marry me, and be my king?”

He felt like a tree branch torn loose in a storm and flung pell-mell into a raging torrent. “In principle? Yes. I suppose. But it’s more complicated, surely! Aside from Marlan you’re still a minor in law, we can’t—”

“Hush,” she said, her fingers pressed against his lips. “We’re agreed in principle. Let’s leave it there for tonight. I’m tired and I’m hungry and I’m desperate for another bath. But first … will you take me to see your father?”

His father? “Yes. Of course. He’s in the chapel.”

He didn’t need torches to help him find his way to the free-standing stone chapel that had held services for the manor’s people for over five hundred years. As they walked through the darkness she slid her hand into his, he thought to seek comfort as well as offer it.

“Is there someone in there?” she said, seeing the lamp-glow through the ancient stained-glass windows.

“One of the chaplains from the venerable house,” he said. “There’s a vigil between now and the funeral. I’ll ask him to leave his praying for a while so he won’t see you.”

She stopped. “Send him away altogether. Tell him you want to stand the rest of the vigil yourself. It’s important,” she added, when he opened his mouth to argue. “I’ll explain later, I promise.”

“All right,” he said, and let go of her hand. “Wait here. I’ll dismiss him. Assuming he’ll let me.”

“Assuming nothing, Alasdair. You’re the Duke of Linfoi. Send him away.”

The chaplain departed with a walking-lamp, protesting but acquiescent in the end to his ducal authority. Once the man was gone Rhian entered the chapel and knelt by the bier supporting Alasdair’s father’s heavy, lead-lined coffin. It was draped in the Linfoi standard, seeming too small to contain such a larger-than-life man. Alasdair knelt beside her, his bones achingly familiar with the cushions placed before the bier.

They prayed in silence, and he remembered love and laughter and a life lived in duty.

“My father always said a man was more than the coins piled high in his coffers,” Rhian said eventually, lifting her head. “Yet he used your father’s lack of affluence as an excuse to deny us and refused to explain himself. I came close to hating him for it.” Her voice broke. “What kind of daughter hates her father on his deathbed?”

He rested his gaze on her profile, on the sweet curve of her cheek. “An angry one.”

“As if that’s an excuse.”

“Our fathers liked each other well enough, Rhian, before they both fell in love with the same woman.”

She looked at him, startled. “What?”

Oh. So even at the end, no-one had told her. “My father once had his eye on your mother. It was before she was Queen Ilda, of course. When she was still plain Lady Ilda of Morvell and your father was Prince of Kingseat. Mine had just become Duke of Linfoi.”

“I never knew that,” she said, scowling. “Probably the boys knew.” She jabbed him with her elbow. “Why did you never tell me?”

He stared at the coffin. “My father asked me not to. He thought it a sleeping dog best left to snore undisturbed.”

“Well, I want it woken. What happened, Alasdair?”

“Nothing good,” he said, pulling a face. “At first their rivalry was … playful. Then they realised they both were deadly serious and the games turned nasty. Things were said and couldn’t be unsaid. Their friendship was poisoned, and never recovered. Father withdrew his suit. He knew he couldn’t afford to offend the future king. He chose my mother soon after and they were happy enough.”

But then she died birthing his brother, and the baby died with her, and somehow his father had never re-married. I’ve got my heir , he’d always said. More than one leads to trouble. You’ll do as the next duke. I don’t need another wife .

Rhian shook her head. “Men.” Her breath hitched. “What a stupid reason to keep us apart. Why were we to pay for the foolishness of our fathers?”

“Some hurts don’t heal,” he said. “Anyway. It’s over now.”

“No, it’s not over! Don’t you see? I’m still paying. If Papa hadn’t been so petty none of this would be happening! We could have married before he died and I never would’ve been made Marlan’s prisoner. So much awfulness avoided, if only—if only—”

He put his arm around her shoulders. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry!” she said, shrugging free of him. “Be angry ! How can you be so calm ?”

“I don’t see the point of being anything else. Anger won’t change what happened. It’s the past. It’s done.”

She got to her feet and went to stand before the Living Flame flickering gently in its sconce. “How admirable. Clearly you’re a better man than I.”

With her hair cut short the nape of her neck was exposed. Slender. Vulnerable. Desire stirred. “Rhian, whether you’re here or in a clerica or even in your castle, until you turn twenty you’re still Marlan’s prisoner. I don’t see how we can marry when—”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Ursa doesn’t have an assistant, Alasdair. That man is my personal chaplain. His name is Helfred and he’s Marlan’s nephew. He was forced on me the day after you left court.”

Swearing and cursing in a chapel was a sin. He sinned anyway, scrambling to his feet. “Rollin’s wounds, Rhian! What were you thinking, bringing him here with you? Marlan’s nephew ? When the prolate finds out he’ll put the duchy under interdict . I’ll have the people in arms against me for imperilling their souls!”

“Marlan won’t find out,” she said, turning. “Not until it’s too late for him to do anything so foolish as to interdict Linfoi. Helfred has no intention of telling his uncle where he is. He’s broken with the prolate, Alasdair. He’s with me, not against me.”

He couldn’t stand still. Pacing round his father’s coffin, hands tucked into his armpits so he didn’t shake Rhian, he said, “And this Helfred’s how you plan to get around your Church wardship?”

She smiled, a thinly dangerous curve of her lips. “As a divine chaplain he has the power to release me from it and marry us.”

“Why would he do that? Marlan will destroy him when he finds out!”

“Why? Because it’s the right thing to do … and because he owes me a debt. Marlan is venal and Helfred knows it,” said Rhian. Her smile vanished. Her eyes were bleak. “When we are married and naked together, Alasdair, you’ll see the mementos from my sojourn in the clerica. Marlan claims to love me like a daughter but he has a poor way of showing it.”

He stopped pacing. “The prolate beat you?”

“Till I fainted. Twice.”

“Rhian …” No wonder she was different. No wonder she had run.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “He did me a good turn. Helfred never would’ve sided with me otherwise and without him I’d be lost and so would Ethrea.” Sighing, she turned back to the Flame. “It might still be lost. I don’t know. Too much is still uncertain.”

The thought of Marlan hurting her made him sick to vomiting. Quelling nausea, stifling rage, he joined her at the Flame. “What does that mean?”

“There’s more I have to tell you, Alasdair.” Her sideways glance was … complicated. “I doubt you’ll like it overmuch. Or even understand. I don’t understand it all myself. I’m travelling on blind faith. On the faith of a toymaker. On whispers and rumours and promises from the grave.”

What? “Rhian—”

“Not here,” she said tiredly. “Let’s go back to the manor. I’ll bathe. We’ll eat. Then we’ll sit down and talk.”

Dexterity perched on the edge of a beautiful tapestried library chair with his hands tucked between his knees and his heart lodged in his throat.

Oh dear. Oh Hettie. Please do what you can. For if the duke rejects us …

He wasn’t alone. Rhian, Duke Alasdair, Ursa, Helfred and Zandakar, they all sat in the library with him. Dinner was eaten, the servants largely gone to bed. The library door was closed tight and the time for spilling secrets had come. Again.

“I think, Alasdair,” said Rhian, breaking the silence, “it would be easier if Dexterity explained things. All I ask is that you hold your questions till he’s done.”

Alasdair Linfoi wasn’t a handsome man. He wasn’t ugly, but he was certainly … plain. His eyes were a pale brown, his hair a few shades darker. Straight and untidy. Unfashionably short. His face was bony. There were calluses on his hands. His body was well knit but his carriage lacked elegance. He looked more like a farmer than he looked like a duke.

He doesn’t look like a king at all. But Rhian loves him, and we must believe she has cause.

BOOK: The Godspeaker Trilogy
10.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Gap of Time by Jeanette Winterson
Lizzie's List by Melling, Diane
More, Please by Aster, Kate
The Eden Tree by Malek, Doreen Owens
Cars 2 by Irene Trimble
How to Save the World by Lexie Dunne