From Darkness Won (70 page)

Read From Darkness Won Online

Authors: Jill Williamson

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Religious, #Christian

“But to be knighting a woman, Your Highness?” Bodwin said. “Has ever such a thing been happening?”

“Not that I’ve heard of.” Sir Caleb cast a withering glance at Achan. At least he hadn’t kicked him this time.

“Berland knights women,” Shung said from his place at the door.

“And why shouldn’t they?” Achan said. “Have not men been knighted for far less heroic deeds?”

“Be that as it may, Your Highness,” Sparrow said, turning her green eyes to Achan for the first time since entering this room, “I am no trained warrior. I am simply a servant of my master. I thank you though, for you show me great honor in the offer. But all I have done is for Arman’s glory. The Kingsguard knights, while brave and honorable and respectable, is not a place for me.”

“Well said, my lady,” Sir Caleb said, beaming.

Achan stared into those cat-like eyes. He had hoped his offer might at least make peace after having treated her so harshly in the great hall. Had it done that much?

The meeting went on. Sir Gavin had sent word to Sir Caleb that he had met with the Mârad general, and that Captain Chantry’s ships were nearing Armonguard. Achan did not speak or ask questions during Sir Caleb’s report, for he could focus on nothing but what had yet to be said between him and Sparrow.

“Unless you have something to add, Your Highness?” Sir Caleb said, drawing Achan’s attention to him.

“No,” Achan said, hoping he had missed nothing vital with his rambling thoughts. “Meeting adjourned.”

Everyone but Achan stood. Sparrow and Esper inched their way toward the door behind Inko and Bodwin.

Achan stood as well. “Sparrow, may I speak with you?”

She stopped where she was. Esper stepped around her and met Sir Caleb on the other side of the table.

“Your Highness,” Sir Caleb said, taking Esper’s hand. “She is Lady Averella, and you must not speak with her without a chaperone present.”

Heat flashed over Achan at Sir Caleb’s implication. He said nothing, however, for in all his time in his role as a prince, he had never once wished to spend a moment alone with any noblewoman. Sir Caleb had trained him how to behave, but this was Sparrow. He suddenly felt oafish and beneath her, for she knew how poor his manners really were. All the time they had spent together, she must have thought his behavior so coarse, so common, so rude.

Esper stepped back toward the table. “I will remain with Lady Averella if she would like to stay.”

“Thank you,” Sparrow said with a small curtsy.

“Very well.” Sir Caleb shot a warning glance at Achan and left the room.

And then there were four, since Shung remained beside the door and closed it behind Sir Caleb.

Sparrow hadn’t moved since she’d stopped on her path to the doorway. Esper took her elbow and tried to see her face.

Achan stood at the head of the table, feeling completely exposed. He glanced at Shung.
Help me.

What can Shung do?

Something. Anything.

“Madam Agros,” Shung said. “We have not met.” His tone was stiff, his words more formal than any Achan had ever heard him speak. “I am Sir Shung Noatak from Berland. I have been in the prince’s service for several months now. I have much respect for Sir Caleb.”

Esper curtsied. “I am pleased to know you, Sir Shung. Sir Caleb is the finest of men.”

“Have you lived in Noiz long?” Shung asked.

Esper stepped closer to Shung. “For several years now.”

Lady Averella.
Achan pushed past her shields as if they were made of steam. Her name felt strange, even in his mind.

She turned her gaze to his. She was likely exhausted from her journey. Her skin seemed paler than what was healthy, and she looked quite thin. Her moss-colored eyes contained as much mystery as ever.

What might it be like to know this woman for real?

She cocked one eyebrow, and her lips curved in a small smile.
Yes, Your Highness?

Words were lost within him. He only knew he didn’t want to be parted from her, ever again. He couldn’t very well say that.
I imagine you’re tired.

“I am indeed,” she said aloud.

Her words were soft, the sound of her voice hypnotic. Only one thing really mattered. One thing Achan needed to know. “Did you…” His eyebrows sank. “Remember?”

Shung and Esper continued to talk by the door. Sparrow lowered her gaze to where her fingers fidgeted with a pleat on her gown. Her eyelashes were long and dark and fell like soft shadows over her alabaster cheeks. Why did his thoughts turn to poetry when she was around? He wanted to grab her, squeeze out a favorable answer. But he waited—for what seemed an eternity to pass—before she finally spoke.

“I did.”

Small words to hold such power, but they emboldened him. “You became a man in order to avoid marriage,” he said, tossing the words she had used to reject him back at her.

“To someone horrible.” She reached into the neckline of her gown and pulled out a ring threaded on a length of twine she wore around her neck. She held the ring—his father’s signet
r
ing—on her palm and raised it between them. “You are not so bad, right?”

She had kept the ring, all this time. And she was using his own words. Playing along. Their gazes locked, taking Achan to another time and place. He finished what he had told her the last time. “And I love you.”

She continued the exchange. “So it won’t be like marrying a man thrice my elder or one who only means to use me.”

“Nay.” He grinned, changing her former rejection to, “It would be better.”

Again her eyelashes fell to her cheeks, which were now flushed pink. “How can I know anything for certain? So much is muddled in my mind.”

“What assurance do you need?”

“That you love me and not my title or inheritance. I have given it up, so it is unlikely you would get it anyway.”

“Nothing has changed, Sparrow. I don’t want your inheritance. Here.” He took his father’s ring from her hand, lifted the cord over her head, and set it on the table. Then he ripped her sleeve from his arm and dropped it on top of the ring. “I cannot renounce the throne, for that is Arman’s call on my life, but…” He dug the gold coin with his father’s likeness out of his pocket and slapped it on the table. He drew his boot knife and cut the coin in half, surprised how easily the blade sank through the gold.

“This is how peasants often do it, maybe not with a gold coin, but a coin of some sort.” He held up the two halves, each pinched between his thumb and forefingers and hoped this would in no way offend her.

Sparrow’s eyes focused on one half and then the other, and then his face. “I do not understand.”

“Most peasants can’t afford the pomp of a marriage celebration and feast, so the local smithy witnesses their promise to one another.” He swallowed, wanting to say things just right. “You were right about me, Sparrow. I’m a man capable of unfaithfulness. I know because I was tempted recently. My father was such a man. And I am his son, so I could be just like him. I feel that weakness inside, calling to me. But I won’t give it ears. You see, I have prayed that Arman will help me be a better man than my father. To make a different path for me and my sons. Arman has changed me, and I know that with His help, and yours, I will not betray you.”

“Who tempted you?”

“A woman that Kurtz… Oh, Gâzar himself. Does it truly matter? The point is, I walked away and became stronger. And I pledge myself to you alone, forever, if you’ll have me.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Do you truly believe Arman is the One God?”

“Aye, and Câan His Son, who saved me from myself.”

Sparrow’s lips parted. “When did you come to believe?”

“The day you left Mitspah.” He smirked. “I should thank you for leaving, I suppose, for if you hadn’t, I might not have figured all that out.”

Sparrow broke into tears then, weeping openly.

“Please don’t cry, Sparrow. I promise to be a man worthy of your love.”

“Oh, Achan. You already are such a man. As if
my
behavior has made me worthy of such devotion. I punished you for crimes you had not yet committed while I stood by, blinded by fear and lying like a rogue. But my lies never kept my heart safe. Please, do not believe your weakness is worse than mine. Arman does not put one transgression higher than another. All are disdained by him.”

He took her hands. “We can help each other be strong.”

“And you still wish to marry me?”

“Very much.” He set one half of the coin on her palm and closed her fingers around it. “A token of my promise, from a stray boy named Achan to a stray girl named Vrell.”

She looked at the coin. “I’d rather have the half with your face on it.”

“It’s my father’s face, not mine. Though Sir Gavin swears they’ll make coins bearing my likeness someday.”

Her eyes flitted over his face. “What happened to your hair? Your ear?”

“During the Battle of Reshon Gate. A black knight—”

She reached up and ran her fingers over his ear. The sound of her skin on his magnified in his eardrum, like listening to the sea inside a shell. Her touch flustered him, excited him, and kind of hurt the blister that was forming there. The intensity of her green eyes weakened his knees.

“Please let me kiss you.”

Her eyes widened. “Here? With our chaperones watching?”

Achan glanced at the doorway. Shung and Esper were still talking, about what he could not begin to guess. Achan bet Shung had never talked so long in his life. “They’re not watching.”

She inched back a step.

Achan had a sudden urge to wrestle her. But she was a girl—which perhaps explained why she’d never beaten him. “Meet me tonight?”

“Where?”

“In here.” Achan pointed to two oversized doors on the far wall of the solar. “Those lead to a balcony that is said to have a magnificent view.”

“Good thing we do not need a view, what with Darkness and all.”

He stared at her for one long, stunned moment, then laughed. “Why do I feel as if you will always be jerking the mat out from under my boots?”

She picked up his ring from the table, hung it back around her neck, and tucked in into her neckline. A coy smile curled her lips. “Because I always will.” She curtsied. “Until this evening, Your Highness. And do not forget my sleeve.”

He bowed, and she swept from the room.

“Good day.” Esper curtsied to Achan and Shung, then followed Sparrow.

Shung raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

What could he say of that conversation? He replayed it in his mind, though it had gone by like a lightning flash. “Only one thing is certain, Shung. She didn’t say no.”

 

 

 

When dinner ended that evening, Sir Caleb would not leave Achan’s side, first insisting he visit the tombs of kings—which Achan did find fascinating—then demanding Achan get fitted for new clothes.

Achan sensed the man was distracting him on purpose and hoped honesty might work best. “Sir Caleb, must we fit new clothing now? I promised to meet Sparrow in the solar.”

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