Destiny: Child Of Sky (43 page)

The Cymrian general regarded him thoughtfully, then flexed his hands within their leather sheaths. “You might have at that," he said after a moment. “Any man with a beating heart would have, had he seen the woman your accursed father left to die in the snow of the southern forest."

Ashe shook his head. “Llauron? Left a woman to die?"

'Do not deny his capability to do such a thing. Your father has committed more atrocities than you have hairs on your head—as have I," said Anborn sullenly.

'I do not doubt the depth of my father's capacity to do anything, good or ill, that benefits his plans,“ Ashe replied. "Still, it seems out of character that he would have left a woman so compromised, especially were she one of his followers."

'I doubt that she is."

'Was she Lirin?"

'Partly."

Ashe's stomach constricted suddenly. “Who was she?"

Anborn looked away and whistled. The dragon in Ashe's blood followed innately the vibrations from the sound to the ears of the horse a thousand paces away, hidden in a copse of winter birch; the noise reverberated against the animal's auditory bones and sent a signal to its brain to come, which, seconds later, it obeyed. He could feel the thudding of the animal's hoofbeats long before they reached his ears, instinctually measured its tides of breath, the blinking of its eyes, the compensation in stride that it made to favor the sore knee of its right foreleg.

Ashe shook his head; the dragon was lurking much too near the surface, much too acutely aware for comfort.

The general turned back to his nephew. "It matters not—she was someone who came to him for aid, for advice in an important matter, and he steered her into harm's way. The disguise in which he clothed her would not have kept her safe from frostbite if she were inside in the warmth near a hearth,—let alone outside in the frozen wastes of the southern forests, and in a black storm to boot. No food, no water, no reinforcements, no aid of any kind.

Despicable, and stupid, and above all else, proof that Llauron is as blind as he is heartless."

Ashe breathed shallowly, trying to control his pounding heart, feeling the flush that had started with his face move through the rest of his body, en-flaming his wyrm nature even more.

'She was comely, then, this woman?"

The horse trotted into the clearing, a beautiful black stallion with a plaited mane. It stopped beside Anborn and nickered softly; the general patted its cheek, then in a fluid motion pulled himself into the saddle. He took up the reins, looking down at Ashe, and smirked.

'One might think so." He clicked to the stallion, and it followed the nod of his head to the icy stream, where it drank deeply at a thawed spot in the shallows. When its thirst was slaked it raised its head, and Anborn tossed his cloak back over his shoulder, preparing to depart.

Ashe leaned casually against a tree in an attempt to quell the trembling of his body, struggling not to succumb to the rising ire of the dragon. His head ached with the intensity of the hum that vibrated in his blood as the beast within him searched the minutiae of Anborn's cloak. It was stained with specks of blood from more than one person—Shrike's was there, without question, because it matched similar smears on his own saddle blanket. And then, tucked away in a fold of the hood, his dragon sense found what he feared it would.

A strand of golden hair, pure as sunlight.

'Was she all right, this woman?“ he asked, his voice betraying his worry with a slight tremor. "Did any harm befall her?"

Anborn chuckled and pulled up his hood. “That depends."

'On what?" Ashe gripped the tree more tightly as waves of alien power flooded through him, making him nauseous.

'On whether or not you believe I could reign in my base nature when left alone with a ravishingly beautiful woman—a grateful woman—compromised, naked, alone within my domain. A gambling man with any sense would wager against it.

Goodbye, nephew." He patted the horse's neck and trotted off into the forest.

As soon as Anborn was gone from his sensibilities, Ashe released the tree he was clutching. He grasped the hilt of the sword and drew it angrily from its sheath, then turned and plunged it into the clear-running stream, staining the sparkling water, sweeping it around in the currents until they ran red.

sighed as the heavily carved door of his house swung open and slammed with the force of a thunderclap. He had been expecting that Ashe would show up sooner or later ever since Anborn had practically torn the thing off its hinges two weeks before. He raised a hand as the guards forced it open again and spilled into the front hallway.

'It's all right, gentlemen. You may go about your business.“ He rose and walked past his glowering son, then closed the door gently himself. "Well, good day to you, too, Gwydion. Was the back entrance blocked, or has destroying the antique door of the Crossroads Inn become a hobby for you and your uncle? I see you have chosen to reveal yourself to him; do you really think that was wise?"

'Give me a good reason I shouldn't burn this place down around your head right now." The fire in Ashe's voice could have ignited the tree palace by itself.

'Hmmm, let's see: how about the sheer waste of it? What did my home do to deserve your ire? Really, you must learn to control your temper. Your outburst makes you look ridiculous; as Lord Cymrian it would make you seem asinine."

'You presume there will be a time when that will matter. At this point, I expect you will be looking at a Lord Cymrian outside of our line, as both Anborn and I are considering renouncing our claims and dissolving any tie with this family."

For the first time since his arrival Ashe saw his father's dark brows furrow together and black anger spread across his face. “Careful, Gwydion; that sounded like a threat. I don't need to remind you how I respond to threats."

Ashe was far past the point of caring. "How? How could you do that to Rhapsody?

Why are you trying to kill her?"

Llauron's face returned to its previously placid state. Obviously Anborn had told his son of Rhapsody's rescue, but not of the plan. “What rot. I won't even dignify that statement with a response."

'What in the name of your sacred One-God was she doing for you in the southern forest anyway? You have any number of foresters and scouts who know that area; she doesn't."

'I am not going to discuss this with you. Besides, would you have preferred I went ahead with the plan as she understood it? I had intended to send Khaddyr as her reinforcement. Unfortunately, while you were otherwise engaged, distracted by whatever it is that keeps you from making your meetings at the assigned times, it was revealed that he, in fact, is the traitor in our midst."

Ashe's words came out in a choked gasp. “Khaddyr? It's Khaddyr? Not Lark?"

—

'Apparently my original information was wrong. Lark may be involved in the assassination plot as well; I am no longer certain. But I discovered, on the verge of telling Khaddyr where Rhapsody was, that he knew things only the renegades would know, specifically that the Lirin raiders had traveled through Avonderre. In addition, a number of patients in his care who could possibly identify the F'dor's host have died mysteriously. Under the circumstances, it seemed better not to send anyone."

'You didn't send anyone! Are you insane? She was expecting to meet Khaddyr, and you sent no one "

'I had no one else available I considered trustworthy."

The cords in Ashe's neck stood out like iron bands. "No one else? What about me?

You know I have been nearby for weeks now."

'You were not an appropriate choice either."

The blue dragon eyes narrowed to slits. “Would you care to explain that?"

Llauron returned the piercing glare without blinking. “No."

Ashe paced the room angrily. “So you decided it was appropriate to abandon Rhapsody to the elements, alone? Anborn said you left her to die in the snow, with no food, no reinforcements. He said what she was wearing wouldn't prevent frostbite inside by a fire, let alone in the forest."

'Well, she's your inamorata. Perhaps you should speak to her about her inappropriate choice of attire."

'It was your plan!" Ashe exploded. Llauron said nothing. Ashe walked to the window and stared out into the windy meadow, running his hands angrily through his hair.

He turned back to Llauron, his eyes smoldering with blue fire. “This is the end of it, Father—the end, do you understand? I'm calling a halt to your idiotic plot once and for all. Rhapsody is no longer your pawn; you will have to find some other way to achieve your ends. Leave her out of it."

The Invoker's look of amusement flattened to a cold stare. “You're going to intervene?"

'Yes."

'How?"

'I'll tell her your plan, Father—I'll warn her—forbid her—from going anywhere with you."

Llauron chuckled. "Now, if I recall correctly, you once accused me, in very ugly terms, of using her shamelessly, of making her decisions for her. What do you suppose you are doing now yourself, my boy? 'There are some things you cannot manipulate, and some things you cannot repair once they are betrayed,' you said.

How do you suppose she will feel when she discovers your part in all this?"

Ashe rubbed his clenched fist with his open hand. “She'll forgive me. She will understand."

'Will she?“ The Invoker decanted a splash of brandy into a crystal snifter and held it up to the firelight. "What was it you said to me last spring? Hmmm—now, let me think; it really was rather pithy, if I recall. Oh, yes: 'You can't expect someone to stand by you when you've used them as a pawn to accomplish your own ends to their detriment.' Yes, that was it.“ He took a sip, then regarded Ashe solemnly. "If you intervene, if you depart from the course of events now, you will not only ensure my death—my actual one—but you will be handing Khaddyr the staff of the Invoker in reality. Is that an end you wish to see achieved?"

'No. Of course not."

'And Rhapsody—once Khaddyr no longer sees her as useful to him, once she is no longer valuable as a herald, what do you suppose he will seek to do with her?"

Llauron could feel the cold of Ashe's shudder from across the room. When he spoke his voice was kind. "You have to let it unfold as it will now, Gwydion.

Rhapsody needs to play her part, just as we all must. She will survive it—we will all survive it. With any luck, we will all get what we want in the end."

'Why should I trust your judgment of what the impact will be on Rhapsody—you, who promised her reinforcements, but left her alone in the storm? How could you do that to anyone, and especially to Rhapsody? How could you expect the unswerving loyalty she had given you, and then abandon her to her death?"

'Aren't you being a little histrionic? She didn't die, did she?"

'No thanks to you. You should be mortally ashamed, though I doubt you have the honor to be."

'Spare me your righteous indignation. I have already had enough of that from your uncle."

'Would you prefer murderous rage? That's much closer to what I am feeling."

'Feel whatever you like, but spare me from it. I have no patience for this disrespect and will not tolerate it."

'Do you have any idea what could have happened to her in Sorbold, dressed as she was?"

'Nothing that hasn't happened to her before."

Ashe's eyes narrowed even further in anger. “What is that supposed to mean?"

'Oh, come now, Gwydion, it's not like she's a blushing maiden, as she was when she first came here. Surely you must know that as well as anyone, I expect.“ A vase of flowers exploded behind him, spattering shards of porcelain and water over Llauron's desk. "Well, that was mature. Are you taking offense at me pointing out that there is no honor there to defend anymore?"

'Rhapsody has more honor in one strand of her hair than you have known in your entire selfish life. I hope you are not saying that she deserved to have something of that nature happen to her. I would hate to have to add patricide to my list of crimes."

'Not at all. I'm merely saying that I felt Rhapsody was capable of handling whatever befell her alone. She is the Iliachenva'ar, after all."

'What did she ever do but help you, when was she ever anything but kind to you?

Why do you hate her so?"

-

Llauron stared at his son incredulously. “Have you lost your mind? What are you talking about? I love that girl like my own daughter; I have nothing but the greatest respect for her."

'Oh, of course, a daughter. No wonder you thought you could abuse and manipulate her with impunity; you mistook her for family.“ The anger in both sets of eyes now matched. "What is it that makes you want to hurt her? Are you jealous, afraid she will capture the hearts and minds of the Cymrians in a way our line never could? Do you doubt her wisdom, if they should choose her as their leader?"

'Of course not. Rhapsody would be a magnificent leader. She has a noble heart and a beautiful countenance. I have no reservations about her at all."

'So why? If you love her, you respect her, you think she would be a magnificent leader, why are you trying to kill her? Or is it that you feel perhaps it is I that don't deserve her? Is that it? Are you trying to keep her for yourself?"

'Don't be absurd."

'Then why? Tell me, Father. Why? Why are you trying to destroy the only happiness I may ever have? Do you hate me so that you want to see me miserable again?"

Fury rilled Llauron's face and he turned away. “What a stupid thing to say."

'Then explain it to me, Father. Tell me why you have interfered in my happiness, jeopardized my potential marriage to the one person who can make me whole?

Who has made me whole?"

The Invoker said nothing for a moment. He walked to the window and stared into the darkness, his mind wandering down old roads. After a long moment he spoke, and his voice was toneless.

'Tell me, Gwydion, do you judge your dragon side to be more a part of you than mine is of me, or less?"

'More, obviously; otherwise we wouldn't be undertaking this idiotic plan of yours."