Crystal Moon (28 page)

How he missed his younger brother’s quick wit and

intelligent insights. No matter the tragedies or hardships, in

Aubin’s company no one remained downcast for long. His death

had snuffed the joy from life. Until Sianna.

What would Aubin do? Kyne’s heart knew the answer.

Could he follow his head in this matter? At what cost?

“Are your thoughts so dark, brother?” Katya placed her

hand on his arm.

“As black as a moonless night.” He turned to face his sister.

“How fares the warrior woman?”

“Though her wound was severe and she lost much blood,

she does well. First Graham, now Lisha. Without Sianna they

would both be dead. I don’t know what magic she wields, but I

thank the Eternal One for it and her.” Awe and affection rang

in Katya’s voice.

“What of your hatred of her? She is still DiSanti’s daughter.”

He refrained from revealing Lisha’s true identity. Sianna may

have earned Katya’s devotion with her saving of Graham, but

Laila was as yet an unknown quantity.

Katya’s eyes darkened with pain, but she held his gaze.

“Love is stronger than hatred. Sianna herself is evidence enough

that her father’s crimes are not hers. Do you really doubt her?

I know you too well. If you thought her guilty of Aubin’s murder,

you would not have taken her to your bed.”

Kyne started to protest.

“No, don’t deny it. I may be as yet unschooled in physical

matters between men and women, but I am not blind. I’ve seen

the way you look at each other.”

“You see too much,” he grumbled and shoved the prince’s

message into her hands. “Read this.”

She smoothed out the wrinkled parchment and leaned

toward the fire for better light. Her brows drew together as

she digested the words. “You cannot seriously consider this.”

“We have few options. DiSanti wasted no time gathering

his forces. Prince Timon and our men are under siege.”

“DiSanti attacks the royal palace, and the Council does

nothing?”

“The province ministers bend like river reeds with the wind.

They wait to see which side proves stronger. If they are swayed

in DiSanti’s direction, the monarchy will fall. A wedding between

Prince Timon and Sianna will draw DiSanti from the shadows

so he can be dealt with.”

“And guarantee Sianna’s death. When she is found pregnant,

her fate will be a gruesome one.”

“We have no evidence yet that she carries Aubin’s babe.”

But what of his own? The thought rocked Kyne, but he

continued. “I have a tenday to appear with Sianna at the palace.

DiSanti holds Queen Theone and Princess Thomasa. He

threatens to execute them before the palace walls if Sianna

does not marry Prince Timon on the morn of the tenth day.”

“He wouldn’t dare. The Council....”

“...strongly favors the match. They are old men, afraid for

their own skins. To pacify DiSanti they will delay action until it

is too late. The prince is but ten and four. Will he have the

strength to stand and watch his mother and sister murdered

when he could save them by agreeing to marry an eligible young

woman?”

“There must be another way.”

“Think of one and I will consider it. Otherwise, I must take

Sianna to the palace.” Somehow he would find a way to protect

her.

“If you can condemn to such a fate the woman who may

carry your brother’s babe, I shall consider both my brothers

dead.” Katya’s voice broke as she tossed the royal missive into

the fire and fled.

Kyne watched the heavy paper smoke and curl as the fire

licked at its edges. In seconds the letter burst into flames and

was gone. If only his plight were so easily dispensed with.

Katya spoke true. After the marriage ceremony a royal

bride was examined by the king’s zard. While the prince could

either ignore her lack of virginity or annul the union, if found

pregnant, she would be sentenced to treason—a crime

punishable by impalement on a spike. Though unused for over

three hundred annum, the penalty remained law. Kyne knew

that when the prince had made his suggestion, the old law did

not concern him. He considered Rul Cathor an honorable man.

Once Prince Timon joined with Sianna her fate would pass

out of Kyne’s hands. If she carried his babe, she would die.

The image of Sianna broken and bloody made his gut churn.

Perhaps a royal zard could be persuaded to lie? Unlikely.

Notoriously independent, the mystical holy men rarely followed

orders—even royal ones—succumbed to bribes, or gave in to

threats.

And if she were not pregnant? She would be queen. Sianna

would make a great queen. Loyal, just and loving, she would

mold Prince Timon into the king he was meant to be. Under

their rule Dramon could not help prospering. Why didn’t the

thought ease his mind?

Even if it destroyed his ka to keep her safe, it fell to him to

assure his seed did not quicken inside her. Althea would have

knowledge of how to prevent a pregnancy.

“KYNE CATHOR!”

Graham’s roar echoed throughout the great hall. Kyne

winced. People stopped at their morning chores, and heads

turned. Katya had wasted no time in carrying the tale to Graham.

From the shadows Sianna watched Kyne move across the

hall like a reluctant boy called to task by an angry schoolmaster.

But his words banished any humor. Marriage to Prince Timon

was no longer an option. She searched for a trace of Kyne’s

emotions, but found nothing. He hid his feelings behind an

unscalable wall. Though he’d promised her nothing, his betrayal

cut deep.

Foolishly, she had thought to heal these people of the wounds

inflicted by her father, and in doing so find a home for herself.

Against her own blood she offered her love and loyalty to Kyne

and his people. Would death be her reward?

Her hand settled protectively over her flat belly. Already,

she sensed the new life quickening within her. While she might

offer herself to save Kyne and the others, she could not forsake

her child. She had to flee. But to where?

Kyne’s tale of a place of peace hidden in the depths of the

Azul Mountains gave her an answer.

She would find Andacor.

A short time later, with a pack of provisions concealed

beneath a cloak she had borrowed from Kyne, Sianna left the

castle amid the steady procession of people headed to the fields

to glean the last of the crops before the snow fell in earnest.

Frost crunched beneath her boots, and her feet struggled for

purchase on loose stone.

Without Warda, the space at her side seemed as empty as

her heart. Dosed with a mild sleeping draught, the hound

remained locked inside Kyne’s chamber. She refused to risk

the faithful beast’s life in her attempt to escape.

The well-traveled trail down the mountainside beckoned.

Instead, she chose the path leading further into the mountains.

When Kyne found her missing he would not think to search the

higher reaches for her. Perhaps he would even believe she had

fled to her father’s side.

A feeling she couldn’t express in words drew her toward

the sheer blue peaks. Despite their cold, harsh facade, she

sensed a warmth radiating from the center of those craggy

rocks. Ever since she had watched with Kyne as the blue twilight

burst across the valley, she had known that some day she would

search for Andacor. She had hoped he would be at her side.

Though her heart was far from pure, she prayed for

guidance. The one growing within her deserved a chance at

life, no matter how slim.

Early morning bled into midday, and like a fading dream the

castle vanished behind the mountainside. Browned foliage gave

way to stunted trees and boulder-strewn slopes. The higher

she climbed the less the sun warmed the thin air. Shivering

inside Kyne’s heavy cloak, she picked her way along the nearly

imperceptible path. Her lungs ached with effort, but she pushed

on. By now Kyne would have discovered her absence. In case

he somehow guessed her direction, she had to put as much

distance between them as possible.

Churning grey clouds obliterated the last rays of the waning

sun. As night approached, the temperature dropped. Cold, snow-

laden wind tore at her cloak and froze the moisture on her

cheeks. Afraid she would weaken and turn back, she fought

the urge to reach out for Kyne.

When he learned she was gone, what would he do? What

would he feel? He would pursue her, but for what purpose? As

a pawn in his struggle against her father? Or to save her from

her own recklessness?

A loose rock turned beneath her foot. With a cry of pain,

she went down. Sharp stones scraped her palms. Cradling her

hands to her chest, she sucked in the salty smell of blood along

with thin, icy air, and looked around the barren mountainside.

Doubts began to eat at her resolve. Her hand moved

unconsciously over her belly. Was it better to die pursuing a

dream than to meekly accept an unjust death?

She stood, and her feet carried her forward despite her

misgivings. Where was she going? Andacor was a myth. How

could she seek sanctuary in a nonexistent place?

Even when Katya first abducted her, Sianna hadn’t felt so

frightened and alone. Her ankle throbbed in time with the rapid

thud of her heart.

Stones rattled down the trail. She froze. Something moved

toward her without regard for silence or caution. Kyne’s

warnings of the sardak and big cats that called the mountains

home made her breath grow ragged. Absorbed in her thoughts,

she’d ignored the warnings her empathic nature provided.

Scooting on her backside until she bumped against a large

boulder, she clutched a rock in her aching hand and scanned

the growing gloom for whoever or whatever followed her.

Soft sobs sounded in the silence. Seconds later, a small

form emerged from the shadows. The rock fell from Sianna’s

fingers as she scrambled to her feet and limped toward the

crying child.

“Zoa, what are you doing here?” She picked up the shivering

girl and enfolded her close to her chest beneath Kyne’s cloak..

“I heard Father and Katya arguing about you. Then you

left. So I followed, but it got cold and dark. I got scared. Can

we go home now?” A ragged cough shook Zoa’s tiny frame as

her tears subsided to muffled hiccups against Sianna’s breast.

Though healed of the lung sickness, Zoa was far from

strong, and the thin, cold mountain air took its toll on her limited

stamina. If Sianna didn’t see her warm and dry, Zoa could well

fall sick again. What had she thought to accomplish by running

away? She had acted without thinking. Now her lack of faith in

Kyne threatened not only her life and that of her unborn babe,

but Zoa’s as well. She shivered in cold and pain.

Night covered the mountain slope. Later, if the clouds parted,

the joined moons would rise and cast their red glow, but for

now they couldn’t travel.

“I’m cold, Sianna. Can we go home?” Zoa asked again.

Sianna carried the child over to the boulder and settled her

against it. “Rest here. I’ll light a fire, and you’ll soon be warm.”

Start a fire with what? She looked around. Vegetation was

scarce along the rock-strewn path, but there were a few stunted

thorn trees. Her palms stung as she broke branches from one

and gathered an armful of dry leaves. Though the wind had

died, fat, wet flakes of snow drifted from the dark sky and

quickly blanketed the world in white.

“I want to go home.” Zoa started to cry.

“We have to wait for the storm to let up, then we’ll go

home,” Sianna promised.

Zoa’s tears trailed away. She nodded. “Father will come

for us.”

Yes, Kyne come for us. Like a prayer, Sianna opened her

heart to him and sensed a response, felt his fear and

determination as her own. For that moment they became one.

Then the connection snapped, and she was again alone.

“I’m cold, Sianna.” Zoa’s teeth began to chatter.

The child’s shift and leggings did little to shield her from the

cold. Sianna bundled Zoa securely inside Kyne’s cloak. In

minutes the girl’s breathing eased and her eyelids started to

droop.

Left in only her tunic, Sianna shivered. She used the rock

to strike a spark, then coaxed a flame to life. Billowing smoke

from the green wood burned her eyes and throat. She choked,

but the fire caught and held. Soon a cheerful blaze lit the

whitening world with a reddish glow, but she knew the small

supply of branches would not last through the night.

Moisture trickled down her cheeks as soft and silent snow

continued to fall. Sinking back on her heels, she held out her icy

fingers to the fire. What had she done? Her fear and lack of

trust in Kyne now endangered another. Neither her own fate

nor that of her unborn babe could take precedence over Zoa’s

life. No matter the risk, come first light she would take the child