The Darathi Vorsi Prince (Song of the Swords Book 0) (17 page)

They sped away from the palace, Brandt on a sturdy gelding and Rhoane on his stallion. They had no clothing and no food for the infant, and no idea where Nadra wished them to go. They rode through the night, headed west toward the Spine of Ohlin. Every so often Rhoane would check behind them, but they were not followed. Not that h
e’
d expected anyone to ride after them, but h
e’
d learned long ago to be cautious just the same.

W
e’
re to meet Nadra in the cavern
.
Brand
t’
s gravelly thought brushed against Rhoan
e’
s mind.

Then I shall get us there without delay.

He folded time and by the time the sun rose in the west, they were several days from Talaith. The baby slept most of the night, tucked safely in the warm confines of Brand
t’
s tunic, but with the dawn came her hunger.

“
We must find some milk for the babe
,”
Brandt said as they approached a farmhouse on the outskirts of a small village.

Rhoane scanned the barn and listened for sounds of livestock. At the bleat of a goat, he prodded Lucitan
.“
There is fresh milk to be had in there
.”
He pointed toward the well-made building
.“
The farmer is not yet awake. We have a small amount of time to procure what we need
.
”

They hurried to the barn and tethered their horses to a stall inside. Brandt kept watch while Rhoane filled two wineskins with warm milk. He fashioned a nipple by wrapping cheesecloth around the tip. Brandt held the bottle to the princess, and she drank hungrily for several minutes before she settled into a satisfied sleep.

“
We must hurry. The farmer will wake soon
.”
Rhoane cocked his head as he listened for any sound to cause alarm. Hearing none, they reclaimed their mounts and raced from the farmstead toward Mount Nadrene.

Rhoane folded time once more, and they sped through towns and villages, unseen by others. To them, he and Brandt were but a trip of the light, something glimpsed and then forgotten. If they even noticed at all. Still, Rhoane could
n’
t shake the feeling something tracked them on their race to the cavern. Not Aelan, nor Fadair, nor even man or beast. Something malevolent that whispered through the trees. Rhoane eased his stallion closer to Brandt and placed a protective ward of his ShantiMari around them.

Brand
t’
s stern face was set in a grimace as he clutched the child to his chest
.“
Do you sense it as well
?”
he asked through clenched teeth.

“
Aye. Whatever it is, it is immune to my power. We should be at the cavern by nightfall. Have you the strength to carry on
?
”

“
Do
n’
t worry about me, lad.
I’
m not as old as I look
.”
They both chuckled at that. Brandt was older than Rhoane by at least a century, but had the health and stamina of a man of mid-age.

Dark clouds funneled over the fields, and Rhoane cursed the summer rainstorms prevalent this season. Mid-summer was a time for sunshine and Light. Not the dire rain and darkness haunting their days of late. He glanced at the sleeping babe in Brand
t’
s arms. Gods, but he hoped the prophecy was true. He hoped this child was the bringer of balance to Aelinae, and not the destruction of them all.

They reached the hidden cavern entrance and painstakingly made their way to the sacred space nestled deep in the mountain. Nadra waited for them on the bank of the great lake that sprawled to the caver
n’
s depths. Rhoane had visited the cavern several times in the long seasons he waited for the Darennsa
i’
s birth. Each time he saw the clear waters of the lake, his tension and anxiety unfurled from him like a darathi vorsi stretching its wings.

He wordlessly took the child from Brand
t’
s embrace and removed the woolen blanket. She wriggled in his grip, squirming to recover the warmth. He shushed her and held her against his tunic until she quieted, then gently dipped her into the lake. Her deep blue eyes grew large against her tiny face. He sang in Eleri, a song of devotion.

When she was fully submerged, he smoothed his hand over her nakedness, washing away the taint of Aelinae. She needed to begin her new life innocent of every expectation, hope, and demand he saw in her future.

He lifted her from the water and chuckled at her wild-eyed sputtering
.“
I would never hurt you, Darennsai
.”
His ShantiMari curled around her, warming her skin, providing comfort and protection that would last far into the future
.“
Nyath minas, ninye
h
Taen das laerl. Dinyath allundrel kneesh awl hap teergartn
.
My heart, my sword, my life is yours, sweet Darennsai
.”
He removed the cynfar Verdaine had given him from his pocket. In all the seasons since h
e’
d left the Narthvier, h
e’
d carried it with him. As he placed it around her neck, he heard the dulcet tones of another song, not from his sword, but the pendant. His words had bound him to her. The song wrapped around him, into him, through him.

She peered up at him as if understanding what was happening. Intelligence shone in her eyes, and he recalled his vision on the beach
.“
Be brave, little one. I will be here when you return. I promise
.”
His lips brushed the smooth skin of her forehead, and he inhaled her scent deeply, imprinting it on his heart.

“
Please, can I know her name
?
”

Nadra brushed the soft curls on the infan
t’
s head
.“
She is called Taryn Rose
.
”

“
Taryn
,”
Rhoane whispered
,“
I will wait for you
.
”

He handed the child to Brandt and knew in the depths of his being he would honor his oath to Verdaine. If he had to wait ten thousand lifetimes for he
r—
for Tary
n—
he would. Together they would bring balance to Aelinae.

He finally understood what he needed to do, but he required her strength to accomplish his task. Not just her strength, but her unconditional love.

You will betray her not once, but twice.

He ignored the taunt and replaced it with his own version of the future. They would heal Aelinae together. In him was the remedy. After all, he was the Darathi Vorsi Prince.

Chapter 15

CROWN Princess Marissa crept through the silent halls of her mothe
r’
s massive palace. At this time of night, the nobles were either sleeping or carousing in one anothe
r’
s beds. A few servants scampered down darkened hallways, but no one saw her. At least, she hoped they did
n’
t.

Sh
e’
d woken from a dream of her mother screaming, yet when she checked her mothe
r’
s sleeping quarters, the bed was empty. This close to the bab
y’
s arrival date, Marissa knew it could only mean one thin
g—
the child had come early. Valtery
s’
s son. Her stepfather would be arriving in the morning, and Marissa imagined the pleased smile on his face when he held the baby. He was a caring, loving father who had shown her nothing but kindness.

Over the course of a decade, h
e’
d become the father sh
e’
d wished for, the loving parent sh
e’
d craved. He showered her with attention and affection, the two things her mother either could
n’
t or would
n’
t give.

A creak on the stairs alerted her a moment before the courtier rushed past. She pressed herself against the wall, too terrified to breathe. If her mother caught her sneaking into the birthing chamber, sh
e’
d be punished with more than just words. Lliandra had made it clear Marissa was to be nowhere near the chamber when the little prince was born. Something about having all the heirs too close together and safety, but it was nonsense.

Marissa knew her mother. Knew Lliandra did
n’
t want Marissa to bond with her little brother before Valterys took him away. A vague memory of a bright little boy with chestnut hair and an impish smile pricked her nerves. H
e’
d been in her dreams often of late, but she had no idea who he was. It did
n’
t matter. She had a brother to think about now.

Little did the empress know, Valterys had already promised Marissa her own suite of rooms at Caer Idris and the offer to visit any time she liked. H
e’
d even shown her how to transform into a great feiche, so she could fly there in the space of a night. Lliandra was a fool to think she could keep Marissa from her brother. Just like she was a fool to think she could control Mariss
a’
s growing desires.

The empty hallway to the birthing chamber gave Marissa pause. There should be guards outside the doors. Servants, perhaps; definitely odas, the women trained in the art of bringing babies safely into the world. The constant pelt of rain against the windows was the only sound. No screams, no joyous chattering.

Marissa glanced up and down the long corridor before she placed a tentative hand on the door handle. A wave of nausea swept over her. She snatched her hand away. The door was warded against anyone entering. But why?

She felt along the wood and metal of the doorknob, sensing the ShantiMari that bound the door closed. Untying power was much like untangling a necklace. It took time, patience, and nimble fingers. Even though she could
n’
t see the ShantiMari, her own power could work through the bindings. Usually. This power was unlike any sh
e’
d come across before.

Marissa stepped back and surveyed the door. It was much the same as the others in the palac
e—
painted white with gold trim. Nothing about the door indicated what the room beyond was used for. If a visitor to the palace did
n’
t know their way around, they would walk past none the wiser. But tonight there was something extraordinary going on inside, and she was going to find out what.

The clack of sturdy work shoes sounded against the marble floor, and Marissa scurried to a darkened alcove. A serving girl approached the door and entered without any resistance. For the briefest moment, Marissa heard the frantic whispers from within. The baby was coming!

Once more she tried the door, only to be blocked by an unseen force. Undaunted, she prowled the adjoining corridor until she found a secret entrance that led to cramped and musty passageways. The entire palace had inner walkways. No longer in use, the first empress had had them built behind the walls to prevent nobles from being disturbed by servants. Over the seasons, the corridors were used more for the noble
s’
illicit encounters than for keeping servants out of sight. Marissa knew the passageways well. Especially the rooms where her mothe
r’
s courtiers took their lovers when they did
n’
t want to be discovered.

But that was on the far side of the palace, and not what Marissa was interested in at the moment. She flicked her wrist, and a flame of her Mari sparked to life to illuminate the tiny space. Beyond the wall to her left, she heard movement and followed the sound until she came to another secret doorway. On the other side of the wall, the door was concealed by a heavy tapestry. One she detested but her mother loved. It showed a scene from the Great War, of Rykoto being imprisoned into the Temple of Ardyn with the elder gods watching as Nadra set the final seal into a column. The anguish on Rykot
o’
s face had caused Marissa to have night frights.

Not because she feared the mad god, but because she felt sorry for him.

She pressed the latch and held her breath as it creaked open. When no one came looking for the cause of the sound, she slid behind the tapestry and inched her way to the edge of the fabric.

A shriek that could split the hairs on a carli
x’
s tail froze Marissa in place. Her mother. The baby.

Marissa eased her head from behind the tapestry to glimpse the room. What she saw stole her breath. A cry rose to her lips, but she bit her tongue to keep silent.

There, in a basket carelessly set away from the birthing bed, was her brother. A thin blanket covered the tiny thing, but she could clearly make out the shape of his face, his tiny hand
s—
his maleness, even. The thrall of death clung to his inert form.

Another cry from her mother caused her to glance toward the bed, where she saw the od
a’
s arms disappear between the empres
s’
s legs to coax another child into the world.

Twins.

Keeping to the shadows and crouching low so as not to be seen, Marissa crept to the basket and lifted the blanket to gaze upon the still face of her dead brother. A blue tint marred his perfection. Marissa stifled a sob and covered the little thing.

“
Please
,”
Marissa heard her mother beg
.“
Let her stay here. I promise I will raise her to be fair and without bias
.
”

A sister. No, gods please, not a sister.

“
You know I cannot do that
.”
Nadr
a’
s tone held a hint of anger, and Marissa gave the others her full attention.

What happened next played out like a fantastical drama on the stage. Slivers of terror wormed their way to her core as she watched the high priest place the infan
t’
s palm upon the blade of Nadr
a’
s great sword. A blinding light burst forth, and Marissa cowered in the corner, afraid of being discovered. Tears squeezed from between her closed eyes and dripped from her chin to the thick carpets.

Please, gods, not a sister
.
The Eirielle was supposed to be a boy. Valtery
s’
s son. He would be taken to Caer Idris, and Marissa would help raise him. It was as she and Valterys had planned.

But the gods cared little for her, it seemed.

A screeching came from the sword, and she covered her ears against the horrid sound. When finally it stopped, she watched as the others bent to give the princess kisses. Marissa, on hands and knees, hurried to the tapestry. She gave one last glance to her mother before she saw Brandt and Rhoane slip from the room.

She shut the door to Nadr
a’
s command that the others forget about the princess.

Marissa would never forget. Never forget her mother let the goddess steal her child to be raise
d…
where? With the Eleri? Why else would Rhoane accompany the high priest? Or would they take the baby to the Sitari? Let her be raised as a savage warrior until she wa
s…
what? Needed to defeat Valterys? What was her mother planning?

Questions raced through her mind as quickly as her slippered feet sped her through the palace. Once returned to her rooms, she paced the sitting area, thinking, plotting. She went to the window and looked out over the seas toward the Summerlands. She would need them, but not yet. There was time to plan, to do this right. Lliandra might have custody of the Eirielle, but Marissa was the Crown Princess. She would control the court. Someday she would have her own heirs and rule Talaith as the rightful empress.

She placed a hand over her belly. At seventeen seasons, she was still a maiden, as was tradition. But with the next Wintertide, her mother would take her to a house where she would be introduced to the ways of lovemaking. An empress of Talaith has many lovers and must be skilled in the use of her body for not just creating heirs. Of course, she would not be able to conceive a child until well into her hundredth season or so, but surely there were ways to encourage her body to bear children sooner.

And why wait until her eighteenth Wintertide? Marissa turned toward the west and grinned. She would lose her maidenhead on her own terms, and she knew exactly who would be her first. Satisfied for the moment, she crawled beneath the sheets of her huge bed.

When her maids woke her the next morning, it was with the sad news that the empress had delivered a stillborn prince. Marissa wept pretty tears and said all the right words, but inside she buried her anguish.

She waited outside her mothe
r’
s apartments as she listened to the tirade Valterys heaped upon the empress. He was furious to be met with a dead child, and Marissa was certain half the palace heard him.

The two guards stationed outside Lliandr
a’
s doors never flinched, but she saw in their eyes the desire to protect their empress. The Lord of the Dark was an imposing man, but her mother could handle him. She always had.

“
Spying, Princess
?
”

Marissa turned at the seductive voice beckoning her
.“
Of course not, Prince Zakael.
I’
m waiting to pay my respects to Mother
.
”

Zakae
l’
s lips tightened to a thin line
.“
Do
n’
t call me that
.
”

“
But you are a prince. I
t’
s ridiculous the ruler of the East is an Empress, but the ruler of the West be called an Overlord. Tha
t’
s a stupid tradition, if you ask me
.
”

“
No one asked you, did they
?
”

Marissa bit her tongue against the harsh retort that sprang to her lips
.“
Please, le
t’
s not quarrel
.”
She cocked her head toward the empres
s’
s suite
.“
The
y’
re doing enough of that for both kingdoms
.
”

Zakae
l’
s glance slid from the closed door to her face, and then, as she hoped, to her barely concealed breasts
.“
They should be allies, not enemies
,”
he drawled, distracted
.“
Princess, i
t’
s been too long since w
e’
ve seen each other. Perhaps we should reacquaint ourselves
.
”