Twilight's Dawn (21 page)
Authors: Anne Bishop
Tags: #Fantasy fiction, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Witches, #Epic
“I won’t let him serve Karla,” Lucivar said. She wasn’t the only Queen who wore Jewels darker than Sapphire, but after what Falonar did to Rainier, he wasn’t going to let the man near the Queen of Glacia and her weakened legs. “What’s the second thing?”
“People didn’t stop dying two years ago. Those who made the transition to demon-dead didn’t stop coming to Hell, didn’t stop wanting a last chance to take care of unfinished business.”
“So?”
“Come with me.”
He followed Saetan to the private part of the Keep’s huge library. On the blackwood table was a wooden box with a dozen audio crystals nestled in heavy silk.
Saetan put one of the crystals in the brass stand and used Craft to engage the sounds held in the crystal.
Andulvar’s voice. Lucivar’s chest ached. Hell’s fire, he missed his uncle. Saetan’s love and discipline and code of honor had shaped the core of who he was, but Andulvar, by being Andulvar, had shaped his sense of what it meant to be Eyrien.
How could he have forgotten that?
Then he focused on the words and gasped. “Stories?”
“Some stories,” Saetan replied. “Some legends as he was taught them. Some accounts of battles he was in. Prothvar has some stories and accounts of battles on a couple of those crystals too. And then there are these.” Returning that audio crystal to its place in the box, he called in another crystal and put it in the stand.
Lucivar didn’t recognize the voice, but he knew what he was hearing. “How? Where?”
“A historian storyteller from Askavi Terreille. He made the transition to demon-dead a couple of weeks ago. When he came to the Dark Realm, his main regret was that he had no apprentice while he walked among the living, had no one to learn the stories, and he worried that no one would remember what Askavi had been like before the purging, that the most recent history would be lost. So I showed him what Andulvar and I had done over the course of several winters.”
“He’s doing the same thing now?” Lucivar asked. “Recording the stories of Eyrien history so they won’t be forgotten?”
“Yes. If someone was interested in becoming the historian storyteller in your community, meetings could be arranged and held at the Keep.”
Maybe the storyteller could have an apprentice after all before he returned to the Darkness.
Saetan called in a thick sheaf of papers, carefully bound. He handed it to Lucivar. “Eyriens don’t have a lot of use for books, but I had all of Andulvar’s stories transcribed. I made two copies. One copy and the audio crystals will remain here in the Keep’s library, available to scholars and our family. The copy you’re holding is a gift from your uncle, and you may do with it as you please.”
“Thank you.” His throat was so tight it was hard to swallow. “I’ve let some things slide for the past couple of years. There were reasons for it, but now that needs to change.”
“Yes, it does. And there will be some who won’t like that change.”
Lucivar put a shield around the bound pages to keep them protected, then vanished them. “I’d better go. I promised Jaenelle I would tuck in Surreal and Rainier tonight, since they’ll both be resuming their training tomorrow.”
“You’re going to put a weapon in Surreal’s hands?” Saetan looked mildly alarmed. “Are you going to shield your balls?”
He laughed. “Damn right, I am.”
He headed for the library’s door. Saetan stayed at the table.
“Lucivar?”
He looked back.
“The next time someone tries to manipulate your heart by saying you don’t know Eyrien tradition, you remind that person that you follow Eyrien traditions that are far older than anything he could possibly know. Because, my darling, that is true. Andulvar was proud of you, as a man and as an Eyrien warrior. Does anyone else’s opinion really matter?”
Glancing up from the solitary card game he’d been playing, Rainier saw one of the younger Eyrien Warlords standing in The Tavern’s doorway, scanning the room.
Endar. Had a wife and two children—and lived with them, which, he’d gathered, was atypical in Eyrien society.
Despite what Lucivar sometimes said about his little beast, Rainier couldn’t imagine Yaslana living apart from his family, coming to the family eyrie for only an hour to see his children or have sex with his wife. Couldn’t imagine Yaslana tolerating that separation.
As Endar approached his table, he saw Merry start to veer from the table she’d been heading toward.
*It’s all right,* Rainier told her. *I’d like to know why he’s come.*
She turned again so smoothly, he doubted anyone else would have realized anything had happened.
“Prince Rainier,” Endar said when he reached the table.
“Lord Endar.”
Endar pointed at another chair. “May I?”
“Please do.”
An awkward silence. Then Merry appeared and said, “I know what Prince Rainier is allowed to drink. What would you like?”
Hasn’t been in The Tavern before
, Rainier thought as he watched Endar stumble over a simple request for ale.
, Rainier thought as he watched Endar stumble over a simple request for ale.
“I guess your training is done now,” Endar said.
Rainier shook his head. “We report to Prince Yaslana tomorrow morning to resume training.”
“I mean no disrespect, but what can you do right now?”
“I think my part of the training tomorrow consists of standing, walking a few steps, and bending my knee a few times to help stretch the muscles Lady Angelline is rebuilding. Yaslana’s part of the training is pounding on me if I do anything stupid.”
“He wouldn’t hurt an injured man,” Endar protested.
Yes, he would.
“I’d rather feel Lucivar’s fist than my Healer’s fury.”
“I’d rather feel Lucivar’s fist than my Healer’s fury.”
“Ah.” Endar took a couple of swallows of ale, then set the mug aside and called in four books. He looked embarrassed. Almost ashamed. “Since you need to rest that leg so much while it’s healing, I thought you might find these useful.”
Setting the cards down, Rainier checked the title of each book. He’d read all of them, but he wasn’t going to say that, since it was clear it hadn’t been easy for Endar to bring them or admit to owning them. “Thank you. These will help pass the time.”
Surreal walked through the door and the chatter in the room stumbled before picking up the rhythm again. As she approached their table, he noticed how much Endar tensed, how ready the man was to take up a defensive position. Couldn’t blame him. Not after her attack on Falonar.
“Surreal, darling, Endar kindly loaned me some books. Could you take them up to my room so they’ll be safe?”
By the time she’d unbuttoned her heavy coat, he knew she’d assessed his visitor, and his ease with the Eyrien, and understood what the loan of those books meant.
“Sure,” she said, taking the books. “You want anything from your room while I’m up there?”
“No, thanks.”
When she walked away, Endar gulped in a breath, then gulped some ale. Rainier picked up his cards and resumed his game.
Endar watched for a bit.
“I’ve played every card game I know more times than I care to consider,” Rainier said. “Do you know any?”
“Betting games, you mean?”
He shook his head. “The healing brews I have to drink are strong enough to give me a muzzy head.”
“Well, there is hawks and hares. But it’s a children’s card game.”
Rainier smiled. “I could handle that. I think.”
Endar called in a different deck of cards. “I keep them with me,” he mumbled as he shuffled the cards. “To distract the little ones when Dorian needs some peace.”
Rainier said nothing, just absorbed all the messages under and around the words.
Lucivar walked into The Tavern, glanced at the table ringed by Eyriens, and reached the bar just as Surreal lifted the tray of drinks and went off to tend a couple of tables.
“The way she kept staring at everyone, folks were afraid to come up and order a drink,” Briggs said, standing on the other side of the bar. “Merry suggested that she look after a few tables while she was keeping an eye on things, and she agreed—and promised not to poison anyone’s drink. She was joking about that, wasn’t she?”
“If Surreal promised not to poison anyone tonight, she won’t.”
Briggs stared at him. “You want ale?”
“I’d rather have a very large whiskey, but I’ll take coffee if you have it. It’s my night to give the little beast his bath, so I’ll need my reflexes sharp beforehand and the whiskey after.”
Laughing, Briggs went to fetch him a large mug of coffee.
Leaning against the bar, he idly watched Rainier and Endar playing some kind of game, encouraged by Hallevar, Kohlvar, Zaranar, and Rothvar.
“Endar showed up first,” Surreal said, setting a tray of dirty glasses on the bar. “Loaned Rainier four books. I gathered reading isn’t a shameful activity if a warrior is so badly injured there isn’t much else he can do.”
Lucivar winced at the sharp edge in her voice.
“The others showed up a little while ago.”
“I’m surprised they aren’t entertaining Falonar,” he said.
She huffed out a breath. “Nothing has been said—at least nothing I heard while moving around the tables—but I have the impression they’re all feeling uneasy about what Falonar did. They haven’t criticized him openly. . . .”
“But they’re here tonight, giving Rainier company,” he finished. Showing support and indicating they saw Rainier as one of their own instead of being with the leader who hadn’t taken care of an injured man.
“I haven’t heard Rainier laugh this much since before we walked into that damn spooky house.”
Lucivar narrowed his eyes. He hated feeling suspicious about men he liked, but the Eyriens hadn’t made much effort to get to know the people of Riada. “How much has Rainier lost? And how much has he had to drink?”
“It’s not a betting game,” Surreal replied. “Some game called hawks and hares.”
Children’s card game. Daemonar was just learning to play it.
“And his so-called muzzy head, which might be somewhat genuine, is a result of Jaenelle’s healing brews. They’ve also sneaked him sips of ale. Not much, and within the limits Jaenelle told Merry he was allowed to have.”
He let the play continue while he drank his coffee and ate the sandwich Merry put in front of him. Then he waited until Hallevar looked his way. He made a twirling motion with one finger.
“Last hand, boys,” Hallevar said loudly enough to carry back to the bar. “We all need to get some rest.”
The only man who didn’t glance his way was Rainier, who studied the cards in his hand with heightened intensity. It was so like Daemonar’s response to the first “bedtime” call, Lucivar almost laughed out loud.
He wasn’t sure if Endar deliberately lost that round to finish up quickly, or if Surreal was right and Rainier was nowhere near as muzzy-headed as he was allowing people to think, but the game ended fairly soon after and the Eyriens departed, making a point of thanking Merry and Briggs for the hospitality.
“Do I have to go upstairs now?” Rainier asked woefully.
“It’s bath night.”
“I don’t need help taking a bath.”
“No, but my boy does.”
“Ah.”
Rainier shifted his left leg. Merry and Surreal rushed toward the table. Lucivar gave them both a look that had them pulling up short.
“Give the man some room,” he said firmly.
Two pairs of female eyes narrowed at him.
Ah, shit.
“Do not give me any sass.”
“Do not give me any sass.”
The eyes narrowed a little more.
*Can we get out of this room, please?* Rainier asked, studying the women.
*Yes, if you make some effort.*
He got Rainier upright and felt those eyes watch him until they reached the stairs that led up to the rooms.
Since Rainier cooperated, it didn’t take long to get him settled for the night. Sitting beside the bed, Lucivar called in a jar of ointment.
“What’s that?” Rainier asked.
“Healing salve.” After putting a tight shield around his hands, Lucivar scooped out a generous amount of salve and began smoothing it over Rainier’s left leg from hip to knee.
“I can do that.”
“Not tonight, you can’t. Right now, Jaenelle wants someone else getting a careful feel of those muscles, and that someone is me.”
Rainier said nothing for a few minutes, letting him focus on the leg. The ointment was laced with spells—warming spell, numbing spell, he didn’t know how many others. His fingers carefully followed the lines of muscles, feeling a ridge at the spot where they were originally severed and then repaired so many times.
“Lucivar?”
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