The Golden Apple (3 page)

Kayla’s gaze snapped to him, a frown on her face.

“She broke her feet and legs when she landed.” Rane watched Eric with hooded eyes. If the wizard was responsible for Kayla’s fall from the mountain, the king would have to stand in line.

“The apple pulled me off the mountain, and the apple healed me.” Kayla finally glanced towards him, but her eyes were on the apple in his hand, not his face.

Eric turned white, his skin almost the same shade as his hair. “If the apple pulled you off, it means you touched it…” He lifted his hand, as if to strike her.

Rane moved his ungloved hand to his sword.

“A sword won’t stop me.” Eric focused on Rane and suddenly Rane’s feet were rooted to the spot. He could not move. Could do nothing. He was a statue—

With a jerk, he was released. Ridiculously, he had to gulp for air.

“You’ve ruined everything.” Eric jabbed a finger at Rane, and when he lowered it to stroke his staff there was a tremble in his hand. He flicked a glance at Kayla, and Rane wanted to put himself in front of her, smash in the sorcerer’s teeth. There was something of the swamp in Eric’s eye.

Rane saw the sorcerer’s jaw work. Eric was grinding his teeth. “There is nothing for it. The princess will have to go with you.”

“No.” The King of Gaynor’s cry was tormented. “She was to stay out of this.”

“She interfered. You interfered, too, didn’t you, old man?” Eric still hadn’t unclamped his jaw, and he spoke through gritted teeth. “You thought changing the rules, making the contest for her hand in marriage would change things. You were right. They are changed.” His fingers clenched around the staff. “For both of us, they are changed for the worse.”

Rane looked between the two men. The conversation did not bode well for a quick hand-over of the apple to Jasper in exchange for Soren, and then he’d be on his way.

He was going to regret this question. “Go where?”

Chapter Four

T
hey assembled in her father’s chamber, Kayla later than the others, because she’d had to wash the mud off and change.

They didn’t sit in the comfortable chairs beside the fire, but at what she’d always thought of as the Council of War table.

And the phrase was more than apt now.

Kayla looked at the golden apple, placed before Rane, and again felt the whisper of disquiet, a panicked feeling that she’d forgotten something, had failed to complete what was required of her.

She noticed Rane’s gaze was focused on it as well, and then suddenly, she was ensnared by the intense blue of his eyes. Before she wrenched away, she thought the terrible, heart-pounding sense of a task left unfinished was something they shared.

“The apple holds you.” Eric the Bold watched her from across the table, and Kayla saw the anger rise like a riptide across his features as he spoke.

“Just tell us what spell you imbued in my damn apple, and let’s be done with it.” Rane’s voice was cold, hard. Completely emotionless.

She really had not known him. How could she, in three days? And yet she’d thought she did.

“At the moment you feel uncomfortable. Ill at ease. By tomorrow, you will be agitated. You will be compelled to undertake a task for me.” Eric leant back in his chair and steepled his fingers together. The action was measured, his fingers still, but Kayla had the sense he was exercising huge control to keep them from shaking with rage.

“Because of your interference,” he dipped his head in her direction, “the apple has enchanted you both. The task of taking the apple off the mountain was only accomplished because you worked together. You will both have to go.” He sucked in a deep breath, and suddenly slammed clenched fists on the table. Ground them into the smooth wood.

Rane leant forward, the movement easy. “And if we don’t?”

“You will go mad.” A thread of spiteful malice ran through the frustration in Eric’s voice.

Kayla watched him, at the rage thrumming through him at having his plans foiled, and wondered what plan he’d had in mind for her before she interfered.

A long, slow shiver ran down her spine.

It gave her a sense of dark satisfaction that she had to go, then, despite the company she would have to keep.

“And when we have undertaken the task?” Kayla mirrored Eric, placing fisted hands on the table.

“When you have found the item I need and given it to me, the apple’s enchantment will end.” Eric paused, and then looked sidelong at her father, sitting like stone throughout the conversation, eyes closed. “And you are all free to do as you please.”

“What is this item, and why don’t you get it yourself?” Rane’s voice was quiet.

“A jewel. Held by a witch.”

Kayla stared at him. “You want us to ask her for it?”

Rane gave a dry laugh. “If it were that easy, he’d have done it himself. Instead he’s staged this elaborate charade to find someone with the guts and skill to get things that are impossible to get, and enchanted his golden apple to make sure they undertake his…task. You can be sure the only way to get this jewel will be to steal it.”

Eric clapped his hands, the sound jerking her father from his thoughts. “Bravo. I am, as it happens, too powerful. Ylana will sense me long before I reach her door. I need someone with no magical power. Someone who would be able to get my jewel the hard way.”

The hard way.

There was an ominous ring to the expression.

Rane stared down at the apple again. Kayla thought he sagged for a moment, just one blink of the eye, then straightened again. All hard eyes and sneering mouth.

“Where does this witch live?”

“The Great Forest.” Eric spoke quietly, this time. As well he should.

Kayla found herself half-standing before she realized she’d left her chair. Rane was already up and her father had drawn a dagger, pointing it at Eric’s throat. If the king had not dismissed the guards from the room, Eric would have had two swords at his throat, as well.

“You would send my daughter into the
Great Forest
?” The dagger shook along with her father’s arm.

“I don’t want her to go.” Eric ignored the knife, his focus on her father’s face. “There is no choice. Do you want her a gibbering madwoman? Unless she goes, that is what she will become.”

“Because of you! Because you enchanted that apple.” With a cry, her father raised the dagger and plunged it into the table.

For a moment, they all watched it quiver like a live thing in the wood.

“You know our chances in the Great Forest.” Rane’s words were bitter.

“I would rather the witch lived anywhere else. Anywhere but that hell-begotten place.” Eric lifted his hands and ran them through his hair. “I cannot set foot there, myself. I’m not welcome.”

“Then we have no choice.” Rane stepped away from the table. Looked across at her. “Let’s be going. I have a pressing need for this apple. The sooner I’m clear of any enchantments, the better.” He lifted the apple with a bare hand, not flinching, and then locked gazes with Eric. “Do I have your word when you have the jewel, the apple is mine?”

Eric brushed his hand over his staff, and Kayla thought suddenly how ridiculous the gesture was. It was affected, as if he were fifty years older than he was.

“You have my word.”

Rane made no reply to that. He stood, quite still, his lean, muscled frame taking up more room than it should. He turned back to her.

“Be ready to leave in half an hour. Wear men’s clothing so you don’t slow us down.” He made for the door, and Kayla gaped at his back, too stunned to move.

Her father took a step towards him, his gait unsteady. “Who do you think you are, to talk to my daughter that way?”

Rane put his hand on the door knob, looked over his shoulder and gave a grim smile. “Sir, by your own announcement, I am her betrothed.”

* * *

Her betrothed.

This morning, it would have been her dream come true. Now it was a nightmare that had no end in sight.

He was serious about leaving immediately, and she wondered why he needed the apple so badly. She frowned. Payment for a gaming debt, perhaps? Or he had a buyer for it.

Or perhaps, like her, the terrible sense of panic at not being underway drove him.

She reached back to loosen the ties on her gown. Gertie had unknotted them for her before going off in search of men’s clothing, muttering under her breath as she went. Kayla eased loose the top two eyelets and stilled.

Turned to the door.

Her father stood there, and pain stabbed her straight through the heart.

He fidgeted like a stranger. Like a man who was unsure of his welcome.

“Yes?” She hated her tone. Hated the sharp edge to it. She was incapable of stopping herself. Hurt and betrayal had honed her voice fine as a razor’s tip.

“I don’t want you to go alone with De’Villier.” He finally took a step into the room. “Especially into the Great Forest.”

That made two of them. She didn’t want to be alone with De’Villier either. And the Forest was the dream-scape of her nightmares. “You’ve made him my betrothed, Father. There is little enough between marriage and betrothal as it is. And the circumstances—”

“To hell with the circumstances!”

She jumped at his shout. Had to exert incredible control to keep herself steady.

“What would you have me do? Take Gertie? Take a knight? A cook? A stablehand?” She tossed her head. “Take a crowd into the Forest, when we need to be thieves in the night? When the price of failure is my descent into madness?” She fisted her hands. She could feel the tug of desperation, the enchantment, growing stronger. Could well imagine what would happen to her if she failed to go, and go quickly. “De’Villier may be a liar and a user, but he seems to know what he’s doing.”

“You always were headstrong.” Her father rubbed his hands over his face. “I encouraged it, I know. Thought it delightful. Loved the way you sent every suitor on his way. If your mother were alive, she’d no doubt have reined you in more.”

“That would have suited you better, if I’d been more docile. When you tried to sell me off for the price of a golden apple.”

“Not just a golden apple. The kingdom, too.” His correction was soft. “Don’t forget, De’Villier becomes the next king.”

“No.” She pointed a finger. “Don’t
you
forget.” She drew in a deep breath. Let it out in an explosive rush. “Why? Why did you do it?”

“Do you think I had a choice?” His words came out in a hiss of frustration. “Eric made it very clear. Find him a knight up to the job he needed, or…”

“Or?”

He shook his head. Walked to the door. “What does it matter, now?” He looked over his shoulder, and she thought she saw a glimmer of moisture in his eye. “Take care, Kayla. The Forest…not many come out of it the same. If they come out at all. Especially these days.” The door closed behind him with a click.

She stood, lost in thought, her hands plucking and pulling her laces, until her gown fell to her feet. Today changed the reality of the last month. Changed the way she looked at things.

Nothing was as it seemed.

The door to her chamber swung open, and she turned in relief, expecting Gertie.

Rane De’Villier stood in the doorway. He had changed from his knight’s armour, and wore trousers as dark brown as his hair, a loose, white shirt over it.

He looked like an adventurer.

“I said thirty minutes.” He looked at her for a long beat, and it took her a moment to remember she was standing half-naked in the center of her room. Looking at him had chased all thoughts from her mind.

Her body was remembering him, where her heart and mind would forget.

She held his gaze, forcing all feelings of vulnerability away. “You also said I must dress as a man, and as it happens, trousers and shirts are not a staple of my wardrobe. I’m waiting for my maid to find me some.”

She turned her back on him, she could not bear him staring at her that way any longer. As if she were merely an inconvenience.

“Your highness?” Gertie stood behind Rane, her voice tentative. “I have found some clothes I think will fit.”

Kayla looked over her shoulder, glared at Rane. “Bring them here, please, Gertie.”

Gertie squeezed passed Rane’s imposing presence, and came to stand next to Kayla. She wavered, uncertain, the clothes in her hand. Looked back at Rane, looming at the entrance.

Kayla kept all irritation from her face, and raised an eyebrow.

He raised his own. “I will carry you out as you are if you do not dress right now. It is already past midday.”

She ground her teeth and took the clothes, yanking on trousers of thick, dark blue cotton. The shirt was much like her newly betrothed was wearing, and she loved the cool feel of it.

“I have three extra shirts and one extra pair of trousers, your highness.” Gertie packed them neatly in her cloth bag. “The kitchen is loading the horses’ saddlebags with supplies.”

Kayla looked up from pulling on her riding boots. “Thank you.” She stood, and took a few steps in her new attire. It felt good.