Binding Spell (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms) (18 page)

And, despite all I had seen, all I had learned that day, I smiled.

I
t was
blackest night when I felt Kadar settle into bed next to me. At first I startled, forgetting where I lay, but then I realized I was the interloper here, in this bed not my own.

I must have made some sound, for I heard his voice in the darkness. “Forgive me. I did not mean to wake you.”

“It is all right.” I turned on my pillow, facing toward him, although I could see nothing of him save a darker shape against the gloom in the chamber. “Is it very late?”

“Late enough. And how are you feeling?”

“Much improved. I hope I did not give everyone too much of a fright.”

“Not at all.” A grim chuckle. “You may imagine what most of the court thinks of it.”

I already had imagined it. But I could think of no way to phrase such a thing without only increasing the awkwardness between us. Instead, I replied lightly, “Well, if I have supplied some new gossip, then I suppose I have done my work for the night.”

“Ah.”

He shifted as well, and for the first time I sensed the heat of his body, his warmth taking some of the chill from the heavy linen sheets. And somehow that heat seemed to touch me, made me want to move closer to him, to…what? Press my body against his, put my arms around him?

Insanity.

I was so woefully unprepared for this. I had no experience of men, unless you could count a stolen and entirely unwelcome kiss from my friend Daris’ twin brother Rillan. Unfortunately for her twin, Daris had gotten all of the charm and the looks of that pair, and I would have sooner kissed the man who came to clean out our wine barrels than the awkward Rillan. At any rate, that boy had not made my blood seem to run hot and then cold, nor made me want to experience in real life the things my mother had described in a bluntly roundabout way that nevertheless got the point across.

This was all a dreadful mistake. I should have slipped away to the divan once Beranne had gone, and not fallen asleep in Kadar’s bed. But I had been so very tired, and the bed was so very comfortable — far more comfortable than the divan, truth be told — and now I was fairly trapped. If I attempted to leave now, Kadar would be sure to comment, and I had no ready replies to give him…save the truth, which was the one thing to be avoided at all costs.

Somehow I forced myself to roll over on my back, to stare up at the hangings above, which in the darkness only seemed to be more darkness, and not the rich green they were in daylight. Was it my imagination, or did I hear the faintest of sighs come from the lips of my husband, as if he regretted my turning away from him?

It had to be my imagination. I could not allow it to be anything else.

I closed my eyes then, and willed sleep to come take me.

A
lthough he moved with care
, I had slept more lightly than usual, and so I felt it at once when Kadar shifted in bed next to me, swung his legs over the side, and stood. I rolled over, pushing a few tangled curls from my face and blinking. The chamber was still dark enough, although a few chinks in the heavy draperies seemed to indicate that the day outside was sunnier than it had been in some time.

“Good morning,” I said.

He looked over at me, surprise evident in his features. Apparently he thought I yet slept. “That it is, with the sun out for once.”

“Mmm, that is good. I think I would like some fresh air.” Feeling strangely bold, I added, “Perhaps we could go for a ride, if your schedule allows it?”

This suggestion seemed to astonish him even more. After all, I had made no secret of my dislike of horseback riding. “Truly? That is…perhaps. I think perhaps we could take our luncheon that way, if you like.”

“I would like it, very much.” Even with the sun out, I did not know how comfortable such a picnic would be, given our location and the time of year, but I would make do. The prospect of being out of the castle and away from Maldis overrode any other concerns I might have.

He smiled. “Then I will make haste this morning, so we have ample time for our ride. Be ready in the great hall a quarter-hour before noon.”

“I will,” I promised.

Our compact made, he went about the business of washing his face and getting dressed, barely pausing when Narenna came in with the breakfast tray. He grabbed some bread and bacon and left, leaving me still in bed and reaching for my morning cup of tea. I would not allow myself to be discomfited by this behavior, because at least today I had secured a promise from him that we would spend some time together.

I
had halfway expected
him to break off our luncheon plans, to manufacture some crisis or council that could not be avoided. But my fears proved to be groundless, for he met me in the great audience hall as promised and even gallantly offered an arm to guide me out to our waiting horses. This time I did not hang back, but laid my hand lightly on his, feeling the strength of his arm beneath mine. And he helped me up onto Raven himself, instead of allowing a groom to perform the task.

Whether this chivalrous behavior was solely for the benefit of the watching nobles, or whether he had realized he’d been neglectful of me lately, I did not know. What I did know was that I felt the pressure of his arm on mine for some time after he had released it, and when he lifted me onto my mount, I wished that his hands had lingered just a bit longer around my waist.

Perhaps at some point this foolishness would cease. If not, perhaps Ulias knew of a spell to knock me back into my right mind. I could not afford to be so scattered, so torn by this unwelcome attraction. I thought suddenly of the girls back in Marestal, and how they had sighed over Thani every time we went into town to visit the bazaar or purchase supplies. True, he was very handsome — even a younger sister might admit that — but at the time I had thought that insufficient reason to act quite so foolish. And yet here I was, just as stupidly besotted as those empty-headed girls had been.

Mouth thinning, I followed Kadar out of the courtyard as six of his guards fell in around us and we moved through the gates and on into the streets. The people there watched us with curious eyes, and I wondered what they might be thinking. Certainly I had not been out and about very much, although the weather was mainly to blame for that. Perhaps Kadar had only agreed to this expedition because he saw in it a means to show the people that all was well between us.

What humbled me was the realization that I did not much care, as long as we could spend this time together.

Truly, though, it was a beautiful day. The sky overhead was a clear, hard blue, with only a few clouds off to the east, hanging from the peaks of the Opal Mountains, to break up that sapphire expanse. And while the air was colder than what I would consider comfortable, with my warm cloak and woolen riding suit, and with the sun shining down on me, I found I could tolerate the chill well enough, and indeed hardly noticed it after a few minutes.

We took the same route we’d followed a little more than a month earlier, when Kadar had brought me out to the woods and lectured me on the duties of the Mark’s consort. Then, however, the trees had blazed in their autumn panoply of russet and orange and gold, while now they were mostly bare, save the sentinel pines and firs which stood dark and solemn among the pale branches of their deciduous cousins.

And as last time, a blanket was laid upon the cold earth so we might take our luncheon there. Actually, this time several blankets were set out for us, to better ward off the chill seeping from the ground. I had heard that when the Emperor of Sirlende ventured forth for these sorts of outdoor excursions, he did so with pavilions and banners and furniture as fine as that which graced the rooms of his palace. But there was not nearly so much ceremony here in North Eredor, and I found I was glad of it.

The guards moved out to take up their positions, leaving Kadar and me alone in a glade ringed by the graceful naked forms of birch and ash. He poured wine for us, this time mulled and still warm from the great cauldrons in the castle’s kitchens. I wrapped my hands around the earthenware goblet, glad of that warmth, which I could feel through my gloved fingers.

The food — a loaf of bread, roasted chicken, cunning little individual pies with berries I didn’t recognize, dark and sweet and lush — was still warm as well, although I doubted it would remain that way for very long. However, I found I did not mind all that much, as we ate in companionable silence and felt the sun on our faces and the chill wind in our hair.

At length, though, after Kadar had poured me another goblet of wine, he said, “You seem to be at home here now.”

Sipping my wine, I considered his words. Truly, I hadn’t thought of my situation in such terms — especially not now, with the specter of Maldis hovering always in the background — but I supposed Kadar’s comment had some merit. Despite everything, I had grown accustomed to my new life in the castle, to gossiping with Beranne and learning the dulcimer and sitting with Kadar in the Hall of Grievances. A pattern had begun to form, a quiet order which appealed to me. At least, it had been appealing enough…until Maldis came on the scene.

I looked at Kadar then, at the dark-lashed golden eyes, the fine expressive brows, the mouth…well, best not to linger on the mouth. Hastily I said, “Well, Beranne and Althan have made me feel very welcome, and I find life in the castle to be quite fascinating. It is so very different from South Eredor.”

“I suppose it would be.” He ran a finger over the edge of his goblet and met my gaze squarely. I had to force myself not to look away, to hope that he would see nothing in my face save mild interest. “Tell me of the South. We have not spoken much of your family.”

“I thought you said you had traveled to South Eredor,” I replied, perhaps too hastily.

If he noticed, he gave no indication. “Once, when I was newly come to my title. It is a custom, for the new Mark to meet the King of South Eredor, and to renew the vows of peace between our two lands. But such a visit, couched in ceremony and custom, hardly compares to your own experiences.”

What to say to that? To cover my hesitation, I drank some more wine, which by then was barely lukewarm. After all, up until this moment, Kadar had only seemed interested in my Sirlendian relations, the ones with titles and power. My Southern family, those prosperous but oh-so-plebeian merchants and vintners, could not be all that interesting. Still, he waited, watching me, and so I said,

“My mother inherited her father’s vineyards, and I grew up there. The house stands on a hill, and from its windows you can see the vines stretching away, all around you. When the wind is right, you can smell the sea, but oftentimes it’s warm, dry grass and flowers in the air. My mother still walks the vineyards, to see how the grapes grow, to feel the earth and make sure it is properly drained. My grandfather taught her to do this, and she will have no one else do it for her.”

To my surprise, Kadar appeared fascinated. “And so were you taught this? To cultivate the vines?”

I shrugged. “A little. I was more interested — ” I stopped myself before I could say
in magic
. “That is, I was a more bookish type, like Father, and of course we all knew Thani would be going to Marric’s Rest one day, so one of my cousins is being trained to oversee the vineyards, to take over when the time comes.”

“And your mother does not mind this?”

Of course she did, but I did not feel comfortable divulging that particular of my family’s concerns. Of course she had known that Thani must inherit the lands my father had left to my Aunt Laranel’s stewardship, but she had hoped that I would love the vineyards as she did, could one day find a husband to manage them alongside me. And perhaps I would have — I did enjoy learning about the winemaking process, and had a good grasp of the details, and my mother praised my palate as being fairly discerning — if not for my magic. Once the power began to rise in me, it was the one passion that consumed all my energies, and there was no more talk of perhaps finding a match for me amongst the sons of our neighbors.

Not to say that wielders of magic could not marry, or have families; my father was proof enough of that. But he had been honest with my mother from the time they declared their feelings for one another, and she had accepted his magic just as she accepted the color of his hair and his eyes. It was one thing, though, for a wife to be accepting of such qualities in a husband, and quite another for a man to overlook those things in a wife. My lack of a betrothed was, I knew, the subject of some speculation amongst our acquaintances, but most of them seemed to think it was because I had been promised to some great lord in Sirlende.

I wondered what they would think, those prosy merchants and vintners and farmers, if they ever came to discover I was the consort of the Mark of Eredor.

No time for further speculation, though, as I felt the weight of Kadar’s watching eyes upon me and knew he expected a reply. Without meeting his gaze, I said, “She always knew that the chances of my staying on at Ash Hill were not good. Once Thani inherited his title and lands…” And I let the words trail off, giving another lift of my shoulders as I did so. My neighbors were not the only ones who thought I would one day make a grand marriage, though my parents always made it clear that I would not be forced into anything I did not wish for.

Kadar was no fool; he understood what my silence meant. No doubt he was thinking the marriage he had trapped me in was far more lofty than anything even the most scheming parents might have hoped for…but at least he had the good grace not to say such a thing out loud. Instead, he favored me with one of his smiles, which, I had to admit, were most disarming. “Perhaps you can offer my cellarer some instruction in wines. We do not have much luck with our local grapes, and import almost everything, as much of a blow as it is to my Northern pride to admit such a thing.”

“It is probably the cold, and the soil,” I said. “It is rocky here, and while that may promise good drainage, the vines need the earth to feed them as well. But perhaps in the spring I can help to point out some spots that may be more promising than others.”