Authors: Chantel Seabrook
The High Priestess began to chant, her voice echoed unnaturally throughout the temple. Taking the dagger, she sliced through the fruit's flesh and handed a half to Cara. “In the name of blessed Annul, may your womb be opened, and the bloodlines of the goddess endure.”
Cara bit into the fruit as was expected, and handed it back to the novice. Both halves were placed on the sacrificial fire, which hissed and smoked as the wet fruit was quickly charred.
The priestess took Cara's left hand and placed it palm up in her own. “She who sees and knows all has called your name Caralynne of Elbia. How do you respond?”
“I am the goddess' daughter. I hear my mother's voice,” Cara affirmed.
The priestess took the bronze dagger and sliced horizontally across Cara's palm. Her breath hitched in her throat at the pain, but she didn't cry out. A crimson pool formed quickly in the center. She walked towards the sacrificial fires and placed her wounded hand above the flames.
Cara hesitated briefly as she remembered the words Maeve had taught her. “By the blood of Annul that runs through my veins, I consecrate my life and the lives of my unborn daughters to the goddess, so her bloodlines will never perish. Where I walk, she walks, what I speak, she speaks. By the goddess' desire let it be so.”
Fisting her hand, she watched as her blood dripped slowly into the flames.
The high priestess continued to chant, while one of the novices wrapped Cara's hand in a thin gauze.
Cara turned from the fire. All twelve men were now standing and watching her with mixed expressions. The priestess handed Cara the bronze blade, which was still stained with her blood. Her stomach churned at the thought of what she had to do next.
They would be presented in the order in which she would visit each province.
“Cuch of Lydd,” the priestess acknowledged as the youngest of the Twelve stepped forward.
From the second wealthiest province, Cush was the oldest son of the Viceroy of Lydd, but he had just barely reached the age of majority. Maeve had described him as an over energetic puppy. It was an accurate description and Cara laughed inwardly as the boy kneeled before her, his dishevelled brown curls falling clumsily into large turquoise eyes.
Cara found him charming in his youthful awkwardness.
She smiled at his eagerness, and in return he gave her a lopsided grin that showed deep dimples on both cheeks.
Placing his right hand over his heart, and his left palm outreached towards her, he recited the ceremonial vows that would bind him to her, “Upon the altar of Annul I pledge my loyalty to you, Caralynne of Elbia, daughter of the great goddess. My life is sealed to yours. Where you go I will follow, and my sword will slay your enemies. By the shedding of my blood upon the sacrificial flames, I swear in her holy name that I will be loyal to you above all others. May the goddess in her wisdom strike me down, and the province of Lydd, if I should ever be proven unfaithful.”
Cara's breath hitched in her throat at the enormity of his words. “In the name of Annul I acknowledge you, Cush of Lydd, and find you acceptable in my site.” They were such simple words in comparison, and Cara scoffed at the coldness of the statement.
With a deep breath, Cara brought the blade across his palm. He winced slightly, but his eyes never faltered from hers, and his smile never left his face.
He stood and bowed his head in acknowledgment, and then walked to the sacrificial fire. He fisted his hand above the flames and sealed his life to hers. As his blood dripped slowly into the fire, he spoke, “I consecrate my life to Caralynne of Elbia, the daughter of Annul.”
Reyn was the next to step forward. His brown eyes appeared amber as they reflected the firelight, and when he knelt before her, his expression was one of brotherly pride and love. Cara wanted to throw her arms around him. Instead, she smiled and mouthed the words, “I've missed you.”
He gave her a half-hearted smile, and recited the vows.
One by one, the men knelt before her and dedicated their lives to her.
The slightly built and awkward Batch of Loewik. The winsome and mischievous Efnisien of Meall. The suave and well-dressed Wesley of Colechester. They were everything Maeve had described, and Cara couldn't help but feel as if she already knew them. She was at an unfair advantage, since they knew very little, if anything about her.
“Finn of Crantock,” the High Priestess announced, as a towering form emerged from the shadows.
Cara's breath caught in her throat, as the warrior approached and stopped a few feet away, gazing down at her with hard blue eyes.
Cara felt dwarfed as she stared up at him.
His dark blond hair was pulled back in a leather tie. One piece had fallen loose and framed his perfectly sculpted jaw.
He knelt before her in the ceremonial pose, and even kneeling his eyes were almost level with hers.
As he spoke his vows, his voice was dark and heavy with the weight of each word.
His presence was disconcerting.
Her knees weakened, and she cursed herself for allowing him to affect her in such a way. She tried to calm her nerves, but her heart was racing in her chest as she placed one hand under his large hardened palm, and quickly dragged the blade across.
She felt a mixture of relief and disappointment as he made his way back to his place in the shadows.
Arwel of Bere Alstern and Theo of Ashwater came next. Both were similar in height and build, with matching dark eyes and plain features. Their mannerisms were arrogant and Cara immediately took a dislike to both of them.
Cara smiled as Helfrich of Drumlish with his unruly orange hair and intelligent green eyes came forward. Maeve had told her that he was a scholar and prided himself in his studies of philosophy and physics.
The entire experience was exhausting, but there were still three men left.
Hauk of Northlew was the oldest of the twelve men, and as he kneeled before her, Cara could see strands of silver that ran through his dark braided hair. Maeve had heard rumors that he had once been the Viceroy of his province, but he had resigned position when his wife and children had been brutally murdered by raiders.
There was despondency in his demeanor that made Cara wonder if the rumors weren't true.
“Tahdaon of Dalgliesh,” the High Priestess repeated for the third time.
The man didn't move.
Perhaps he's asleep
. Cara smiled at the thought. She wouldn't blame him; the entire ceremony was tedious and she could doze off herself.
People began to murmur, and Cara could feel the tension rising within the room.
“The Dog's either deaf or dumb,” someone jeered.
Cara cringed at the vulgar nickname given to the Dalglieshans. Her own people had been bestowed with a similar label, and she detested it.
“Tahdaon of Dalgliesh,” the High Priestess repeated. “Take your place now, or your actions will be seen as a declaration of war!”
Cara drew her breath in sharply and the room erupted in outrage. She had heard talk that the Northern Province sought independence, but to do so would be mutiny. To declare war in the temple of Annul would be his death.
Tahdaon stood slowly, raked a hand through his short black hair and walked defiantly up the marble steps, to the front of the platform. Cara tried not to react in fear as he approached. He rivaled Finn of Crantock in height and brawn
Tahdaon's grey eyes were murderous as he stood before her, and he gave her a look that Cara could only interpret as disgust. He scowled as he assumed the submissive posture, and placed his right hand over his heart.
She wanted to shrink into herself as he spat the words that had sounded noble on the lips of the others, but now sounded more like a curse. “Upon the altar of Annul I pledge my loyalty to you, Caralynne of Elbia, daughter of the great goddess. My life is sealed to yours. Where you go I will follow, and my sword will slay your enemies. By the shedding of my blood upon the sacrificial flames, I swear in her holy name that I will be loyal to you above all others. May the goddess in her wisdom strike me down if I should ever be proven unfaithful.”
He breathed out sharply as he finished, and closed his eyes as if the words had caused him physical pain.
He had left out the last part of the vow, which cursed his province if he should ever betray her.
An aura of grief surrounded him and made her at once both anxious and protective. It was evident from his pained expression that he had not come here willingly. She knew the feeling all too well, and her heart broke for him despite the hatred he directed at her.
She remembered the words Callion had said to her the last day on the cliff. It would do no good to hate. She wouldn't let cynicism be her measuring rod, or let fear turn her heart cold. She would not repay his hostility with animosity of her own.
Cara smiled and touched his rough, unshaven cheek. She heard the murmurs throughout the room, but she ignored them. He was obviously wounded, and it was kindness that he needed.
Cara looked past his unkempt appearance. His eyes were rimmed with thick dark lashes. They weren't grey as she had originally thought, but the palest blue with a single brown spot on the far corner of his left iris. There was something about him that reminded her of Callion when he was in one of his moods.
“In the name of Annul I acknowledge you, Tahdaon of Dalgliesh, and find you acceptable in my site.”
She saw the apprehension and vulnerability cross his eyes before he closed and carefully composed his face.
Cara sighed in relief as she watched him take the final steps to the sacrificial fire and seal his vow with blood.
The tension in the temple was still high, and Cara was sure Tahdaon would face repercussions for his actions through taunts and verbal accusations, but the crisis had been avoided. His life was now sealed to hers, and no one could take any rightful action against him without Cara's permission.
Edmund of Hellstrom was the last of the twelve men to approach the altar. He was Maeve's cousin, but Cara didn't see any family resemblance. If anything, he looked more like Tahdaon than Maeve, with his dark hair, pale skin, and light blue eyes. He was slighter in build and not nearly as tall, but there was a similarity in the cut of his jaw and straight-edged nose.
Maeve had warned her of Edmund's lecherous pursuits, and looking at him, she wasn't surprised. He had a dark charm that Cara found both hypnotizing and disturbing. She drew the blade across his palm and he gave her a crooked grin that was more lascivious than boyish.
She was still unnerved by his presence as the High Priestess ended the ceremony. It had been a long and emotionally taxing day, and Cara was anxious to find Maeve and return to her chambers before the week long feasting and festivities began.
“I need your help,” Cara whispered, grabbing Reyn's arm and pulling him into the shadows.
“What's wrong?”
“When was the last time you saw Maeve?”
Reyn's expression darkened. “I haven't talked to her since before we left for the temple. I thought she was with you.”
Cara shook her head. “I couldn't find her after the ceremony. I heard that she had been taken to the palace infirmary, but when I went to see if she was there, there were guards at the door and they wouldn't let me in.”
“Shit,” Reyn cursed, frowning as he motioned her deeper into the dark hallway. “Have you talked to the Queen?”
Cara shook her head. She had approached her earlier in the evening and received a verbal lashing that had left Cara physically shaken. “I think she's hiding something,” Cara said, remembering the darkness in the Queen's eyes, and the slow sickening smile that had crossed her face at the mention of Maeve's name.
Reyn cursed again and raked a hand through his hair. “I tried to warn her, but I swear that girl is as stubborn as you.”
“What are you talking about?” Cara demanded, shrugging her arm free of his grip. “Do you know where she is?”
“Cara, think about it. You've spent every day this past month with her. You've seen the way she retreats inside herself whenever her mother is around, and the bruises she tries to hide.”
A chill went down her spine at what he was suggesting. “From her illness——”
Reyn shook his head. “The marks don't add up. She wouldn't admit it to me, but I'm certain that someone has been hurting her, and I think we both know who.”
Cara started to deny it, but the more she thought about the possibility the more it made sense. Maeve's agitation in her mother's presence. Her timidity around others. Her lack of confidence.
“There's more,” Reyn continued, closing his eyes and exhaling a ragged breath. When he opened them again, Cara flinched at the fear she saw reflected in them. “She didn't tell you because she didn't want you to worry. The only reason she confided in me was in case something went wrong. So that you would know she had nothing to do with it.”
Cara's stomach dropped. “Tell me.”
Reyn looked at her apprehensively before answering. “Maeve believed that the Queen had convinced the council and High Priestess to allow a coregency.”
“Coregency?” Cara shook her head. She should have known the Queen was planning something. “She still plans on putting Maeve on the throne.”
“It would allow Maeve to reign alongside you, at least until you…” Reyn hesitated, “fulfilled your purpose.”
“You mean until I produce an heir.” Bile rose in her throat, as she understood the implications. It had been one of her biggest fears when she had learned she was to be queen, but because of Maeve's kindness, she had let her guard down. It had all been part of the Queen's scheme. She had used Maeve against her. The woman was ruthless.
“Then what has happened to her? If the Queen has plotted to put Maeve on the throne, then what good would it do to lock her up now?”
Reyn drew a deep, shuddering breath, and Cara saw in his pained expression that he had come to care for Maeve. “She was supposed to stand with you at the dedication ceremony to be claimed jointly as heir by the High Priestess and the Twelve.”
It made sense: The similar gowns, Cara's isolation, and Maeve's anxiety before the ceremony. Cara's breath hitched in her throat as she realized what Maeve had done. “Without the ceremonial blood vows, her claim to the throne would be unfounded. Since she didn't participate in the ceremony, the Queen can't claim a coregency!”
Reyn nodded and looked shaken. “She wouldn't have betrayed you. It's not in her nature. She was worried you would blame her if you found out what the Queen was plotting. That's why she didn't tell you.”
“She knows I would never hold her mother's actions against her,” Cara sighed, but even as she spoke the words, she knew they were a lie. Maeve's insecurities blinded her to her own self-worth, and to believing that someone could love her unconditionally. Of course, Maeve would worry, but Cara didn't give a damn about the Queen or the crown. “I would have given her the crown if I could, and I wouldn't have cared if she had been made coregent. She's put herself at risk for no reason.”
“It wouldn't have been that simple.” He placed his hand on her shoulder, and pulled her towards him. “She thought it was the only way to protect you.”
Anger darkened her vision as she thought about what the Queen had done, and for a moment, all she could think about was hurting the evil witch as much as she had hurt Maeve. Cara struck her fists against his chest and cried out as she fully grasped the danger Maeve had put herself in, “We have to get her out of there. She's made herself disposable. A liability. Who knows what the Queen has planned, or what she's already done to her.”
Reyn was silent for a long moment, but when he pulled back and stared down at her, his eyes were dark and filled with purpose. “I have an idea, but we're going to need help.”
“The Queen has eyes and ears all over the palace. We can't trust anyone here.”
He raked a hand over his face. “We're going to have to.”
Both Cara and Reyn jumped at the sound of people approaching on the northern side of the corridor. Reyn pulled her deeper into the shadows and they held their breath until they were certain they were alone again.
“We have to do this now!” Cara demanded. “Get her somewhere safe where the Queen can't hurt her.” She grabbed his hand and pleaded with him, “There are only two guards at the door, and they won't be expecting an attack. I can get a horse ready, maybe a carriage, but that might raise too much suspicion——”
“Cara stop.” Reyn's frown deepened and he shook his head. “You aren't going to like this. I don't want to leave her there any more than you do, but in order for this to work we have to wait.”
“You can't be serious.” Cara flinched and her stomach churned at the thought.
“If we try to get her out now, what do you think the Queen will do? To Maeve? To you?”
“I don't care what she does to me.”
“We won't leave her. I promise you that. But we need to be patient.”
Cara shook her head. “Then what's your plan?”
Reyn was silent for a moment, and Cara could see him working out the details in his mind. “We're scheduled to leave in six days to travel to the province of Lydd.”
“Which is why we need to get her out now. We can't help her if we are on the opposite side of the country.”
A muscle twitched in Reyn's jaw. “Maeve is supposed to accompany you on the tour?”
“Yes, but the Queen will never——.”
Reyn held up his hand to cut off her words. “The palace will be in a state of pandemonium that day. There will be a large procession as we leave the city and most of the palace servants and guards will be in attendance, as will the Queen.”
Cara bit her knuckles as Maeve often did when she was nervous. “You're right. We would have a better chance of getting her out undetected then.” Cara shook her head and worried. “But how can we be certain she won't send guards after us? If she sends a decree issuing Maeve to be returned, I have no power to stop her. We need to take Maeve somewhere safe. Somewhere the Queen will never find her.”
“If we hide her now, we give the Queen reason to issue a claim of insurgence or defiance on both of you.”
“And if we don't hide her, the Queen will send her back to the palace, or worse.”
“No, I don't think she would risk it. Everyone believes Maeve is ill, nothing more. She hasn't been charged or sentenced to any crime, and as far as I know, there has been no suggestion that she won't still travel with you. Once we are in the province of Lydd, if the Queen decides to send her men to detain us then she risks exposing herself and her actions. Her reputation is already facing harsh scrutiny. With the talk of rebellion in the provinces, she doesn't want anyone knowing what she has done to her daughter, or what she plans to do you.”
Cara scoffed at him, “All the more reason for her to want Maeve confined. We need to get her somewhere safe.”
“The safest place for Maeve is by your side and under my protection.” Reyn gave her a stern look, and Cara knew she wouldn't win this argument. “We will make it clear to the Queen that her secrets will remain hidden, as long as Maeve is left alone.”
Cara blew out a frustrated breath. “All right,” she stated simply, acknowledging she would do things his way.
“I will talk with Finn and Helfrich and get a sense of where their loyalties lie. Both seem to have developed a mutual affection for Maeve and a general dislike for Birkita, and we could use Helfrich's brains and Finn's strength to pull this off.”
Reyn's comment reminded her of the relationships that had already formed between the men and Maeve during her own confinement. Cara repressed the snippet of jealousy she felt at the thought of Finn having affections towards Maeve.
“What can I do?” Cara asked, directing her thoughts back to the more pressing matter.
“For now, carry on as if nothing has changed. Don't do anything to stir suspicion, and let me worry about the details.” He turned to leave and then paused. His eyes narrowed on her. “I promise on my life that we won't leave this city without her.”
Reyn left her in the shadows, intent on his mission.
Cara sighed and closed her eyes.
How had her life become so complicated?
She would give anything to be home with her father and Callion.
Cara shook off the depressing thought.
She had to come to terms with the fact that she would never return to her old life.
Maeve needed her, and Cara needed to find the strength to help her.
She released the rest of her frustration in a short, sharp rush of air. Turning the corner, she stopped short and felt the blood drain from her face.
Edmund stood half in shadow, head cocked leaning against the wall, his arms and legs crossed as he glowered at her.
Cara assessed his position and knew he hadn't been close enough to overhear her conversation with Reyn, but she was certain by his expression that he had witnessed some of their exchange.
Had he been spying on them?
Maeve had told her that Edmund was the Queen's choice for king consort, and Cara wondered now if he was actively involved in the plot against her.
“You scared me,” Cara breathed, trying to calm her nerves.
He tilted his head and examined her closely. “I didn't want to interrupt your little tryst.”
“What?” Cara exclaimed. Heat rose to her cheeks as she realized that he had concluded that she and Reyn were lovers. “We're not…I mean he's not…”
Edmund arched a curious brow and moved towards her. Cara resisted the urge to take a step back.
“It certainly looked like you were, and he was,” he said playfully, giving her a lecherous grin.
“Reyn is a friend and I had a…a problem I needed talk to him about.” She bit her tongue, realizing she had said too much. If he was working with Birkita, she didn't want to say anything that would make him suspicious about their plan to free Maeve.
He slid his gaze down her body, and Cara shivered at the dark hunger in his eyes.
“And what problems needed to be discussed in a shadowed corner?”
“Personal matters,” Cara stuttered, trying to regain her composure, “from home. Nothing to concern yourself with.”
Edmund looked at her skeptically, and then smiled darkly. He brushed his hand down the length of her bare arm. “The vows I took say otherwise. You
are
my concern now princess.”
She took a step backwards and he smiled. He was toying with her. Cara knew it, and she knew she should run, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. He was every bit the predator she had initially tagged him as, and running would only give him the thrill of the chase. Better to stand her ground. Nevertheless, every step he took towards her, with his dark menacing gaze, made her involuntarily take another step back. She gasped as her back encountered the cold stone wall.
He placed his hands on either side of her so that she couldn't escape. His blue eyes watched her with a hint of laughter and unmistakable lust.
“Are you afraid of me?”
She pushed on his chest, which only caused him to force his body tighter against hers.
“Let go of me,” she hissed.
Her arms were immobilized, pinned between his chest and hers. She glanced down the shadowy, narrow corridor, hoping that someone would pass by.
She had chosen the location for its seclusion and privacy. They were alone and she was trapped.
“I'll tell you a secret,” he whispered in her ear. His warm breath on her skin sent a shiver of revulsion down her spine. “You should be afraid.”
It was a warning, and Cara struggled more furiously against him.
He grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him. “You can have all the secret rendezvous you want princess, but trust me when I tell you that you will be mine.” He crushed her mouth with his own and kissed her roughly.
Crying out, Cara did her best to get free, but he held her easily. There were tears on her cheeks when he finally pulled back. His fingers tangled in her hair and he pulled roughly so that she was looking at him.
“You and the crown are mine princess.” Arrogance tightened his features as he stared down at her.
“You will never have me, and I promise you will never wear the crown.” Her voice trembled with emotion, and her stomach cramped in fear.
A slow, evil smile curved his lips. “Don't make promises you can't keep, princess.”
He released her.
And Cara ran.