****
Inydde would have her wingabeast ride, it seemed, even if it meant giving up propriety. Her daughters and the visitors from Darksea waited as she rode before Elcon, her back stiff and unyielding. He kept a hand about her waist with as light a touch as possible. He wanted no misinterpretation of a safety precaution. Feathered wings lifted about them and beat down as Raeld’s muscles bunched and heaved. The wings lifted again and air rushed over them. As they spiraled upward, Inydde let out a scream and grasped Raeld’s
mane with both hands, bending so low Elcon feared for her safety. His hand tightened around her waist and he leaned forward to instruct her.
“Let go of me!”
Raeld quivered, and Elcon spoke calming words to both the wingabeast and the woman.
Inydde threw her arms around Raeld’s neck. “I want off! Take me down!” she shrilled near the wingabeast’s ear.
A shudder went through Raeld, but he held course. Elcon felt immediate sympathy for his wingabeast. He did not want to be in the air with Inydde either. He released his breath between his teeth. He could not bring Raeld down until they leveled out above Cobbleford Castle. To do so before then might mean a disastrous landing.
Inydde hid her eyes against Raeld’s neck and refused to move even when their flight leveled. The castle shone in the afternoon sun, its baileys small green squares amidst walls of brown and gray stone, the garden behind the chapel marked off in a neat grid. He whistled the command to descend so that Raeld might hear it above Inydde’s piteous wails.
The landing in Cobbleford’s outer bailey was rough, perhaps hindered by the death grip Inydde maintained on Raeld’s neck. Even now she would not let go, despite the fact all four of the wingabeast’s hooves rested on the ground. Elcon dismounted and reached to help her, but she had gone too far into hysterics to recover easily. Raeld pranced a little, and he issued a sharp command that quieted the beast. He hesitated, not sure what else to do short of wresting Inydde by force from Raeld’s back.
At a gentle touch on his arm, he looked sideways. At sight of Aewen’s beautiful face his pulse picked up speed. She spoke near his ear. “Let me.”
He gave way, going to Raeld’s head to hold him steady. Aewen moved to the wingabeast’s side and lifted her arms to her mother, all the while speaking in a low, soothing voice. Inydde released Raeld’s neck and clung to her daughter instead. Elcon stepped forward to assist Inydde, who dismounted without grace. Aewen gave him a weak smile from across her mother’s bowed head. A jowl-cheeked maidservant came forward. Inydde sagged against her and allowed the woman to lead her along the cobblestone path to the keep. In her distress Inydde left her daughters alone among men. “Thank you, princess.” Elcon’s voice was not quite steady.
“She’s my mother. I could not leave her thus.” Aewen’s face shone with compassion. Utterly smitten, he watched as she rejoined her sister on the sward beside Raefe and Devlon of Darksea.
Shaking from emotion and in the aftermath of a situation that could have turned out much worse, Elcon put a hand to Raeld’s neck to steady both himself and his wingabeast. But Raeld was not ready to be soothed. He gave a series of snorts, and his prancing hooves made dull thuds in the grass as the wingabeast let his opinion of recent events be known.
Craelin and Kai approached, leading Mystael and Fletch. Inydde had requested the Kindren offer wingabeast rides to her guests but had insisted on going first. Sending an inquiring look to Raefe and Devlon, Elcon stood away from Raeld.
“I mislike this idea.” Craelin said in response to Elcon’s greeting.
He gave a swift nod. “Let us do what we can for peace.”
Craelin squinted toward Inydde and her maid, now entering the keep. “I doubt today’s adventure will have a pleasing outcome.”
Elcon firmed his jaw. “You and Kai take the two from Darksea, and I’ll let the daughters admire Raefe. He’s done more than his share this day.”
“As have you.” Kai’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Elcon turned to the waiting group
.
“We are at your service if you still want to ride, but think well. As you have seen, the prospect of riding a wingabeast can be somewhat different from the reality.”
“I have no need to
think
, Kindren. I will ride one of the beasts alone!” After making his bold statement, Raefe turned his head toward Caerla, and a glittering look passed between them. All at once Elcon understood. The Elder prince showed off for the younger daughter, not the older. He shook his head. “I am sorry, Your Highness, but none can ride a wingabeast alone without training. Even the guardians of Rivenn do not do so.”
“I care nothing for your trifling
rules
.” Raefe stood taller. “I will ride alone. Now give me the white one. He looks quick.”
Kai’s long eyes narrowed. “No one rides Fletch without me.”
Elcon raised a hand to warn Kai to silence. He spoke, with an effort, in even tones. “I am sorry, but I must insist for your safety, Prince Raefe. The wingabeasts are trained to know certain signals that, if absent, may confuse them. Besides that, it’s easier than it seems to become unseated by a sudden change of direction in midair. Riding a wingabeast requires balance gained by much practice. If you want to ride Fletch, Kai will be happy to accompany you.”
Raefe stood his ground, looking so furious that Elcon balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to intercept a blow. He felt Kai and Craelin move to stand just behind and beside him. Raefe, whose eyes shifted to take in this change, huffed as he glared into Elcon’s eyes. “Never mind then. I’ll not be coddled like a babe.” With that, he stomped off toward the gatehouse in a childish fit.
Aewen bowed her head at Raefe’s display. Elcon ached to comfort her, but that privilege did not belong to him. A slow blush crept up King Devlon’s neck. He dipped his head in a quick nod and set off for the keep.
Only the two daughters remained, but Caerla, bemused, made her apologies. “I’ll check my mother.” She left them, but seemed to lose her way. She did not set off for the keep, but followed instead the path Raefe had taken.
At a touch on his arm, Elcon met Aewen’s gaze. “I’m sorry. You’ve done no wrong.” She spoke barely above a whisper, and tears brightened her eyes.
He put a hand over hers. Her words, soft as the hand he held beneath his own, brought him comfort. “Come.” He walked with her then, taking her toward Cobbleford’s gardens, leaving Raeld in Craelin’s care. Kai followed him at a discreet distance, a fact he welcomed. With Kai near, he might better remember his manners in Aewen’s presence.
They were of the same mind it seemed, for they passed the chapel’s cultivated beds to lose themselves in the natural gardens beyond. Here, weilo trees dangled long leaves in the silvered waters of a stream lined with cobblestones. Wild roses unfurled and native plum trees bent under the weight of their harvest. Bees buzzed, and the aroma of sun-warmed fruit scented the air.
Elcon plucked two ripe plums and offered one to Aewen. She took the treat from his hand, the corners of her mouth lifting in a quick smile. He bit into his own plum and smiled with her as its sweetness filled his mouth. He held a branch as she sought the banks of a quiet pool, inky in the shadow of a thicket of broadberries overhung by weilos
.
She stood upon a flat rock at water’s edge and looked back for him. His heart stirred at the sight of her there, awaiting him. He knew without being told she had brought him to a quiet place she cherished, a place of peace. He joined her on the stone slab and crouched to rake his hand through the cool water. As he watched, a silver fish flashed beneath the surface. He stood, droplets falling from his fingers to splash on the stone at their feet. He turned to her. “Thank you.” The words resonated between them.
She tilted her head to look at him and dimpled. He longed to reach for her, to take her into his arms, to run his hand through her dark hair and free it from its plait. Instead he smiled and memorized her face, so that he might not forget her, ever.
She gazed at the pool. “I love this place.”
“I can see why.”
She sent him a sideways glance. “
Can
you?”
“Sometimes I steal away to the inner garden at Torindan, and there listen to Lof Yuel’s voice.”
Her brows drew together. “Lof Yuel?”
“The ‘High One,’ or God as you Elder call Him.”
She sighed and her face grew sad. “I feel Him here also. But soon I will not be able to come again. I will dwell far away in a land of cold mists.”
He caught her hand, brought her around to face him, and cupped her face. “Aewen.”
“
No!
No, please.” She broke away. “I should not have mentioned my sorrow to you. I forget myself because you are so kind.”
“Know this”—he paused to bring his voice under control—“I would do anything to ease your path. I would do anything if only I had the right.”
She flinched and a bruised look came into her eyes. She turned away from the pool, away from him, and stepped from the flat stone to the path.
“Wait.”
She paused but did not turn back to him.
“Are you in trouble of some kind? Do you need help?”
She looked at him then, and he saw that tears stood in her eyes. “None can help me, least of all you.”
She ducked back under the weilo branch and left him there. Elcon hesitated, on the verge of following her, but then restrained himself. He did not have the right to follow.
When he emerged from the hidden pool he found Kai waiting on the path. He didn’t try to hide his feelings. Kai read him too well for that. He sighed. “Trouble calls my name, it seems.”
Kai’s silver eyes gleamed. “But you decide whether to answer.”
****
“Flitling, what troubles you?” Murial looked up from her needlework. “You’re pale as death and can scarce catch your breath. I’ve lit a fire. Come warm yourself.”
Aewen sank onto the bench by the fire in her outer chamber and watched the flames licking around the logs they consumed. Hypnotized, drawn into them, she forgot their danger in the beauty of the light they made. She took with gratitude the cup of cider Murial brought her. Her maid brushed her hair, all the while crooning beneath her breath. With deft fingers, Murial replaited her hair and tied across her forehead a doeskin strip with a sapphire stone at its center. She kissed the top of Aewen’s head and, as a last gift, rubbed lavender oil into her temples.
Aewen caught Murial’s hand when she would withdraw it and dropped a kiss upon its weathered surface. “You are good to me, and I thank you.”
Murial smiled and her dark eyes warmed. “I only do what my heart speaks.” She sobered. “Today your mother suffered a misfortune.”
Aewen gave a deep nod. “Indeed, she did. How does Mother fare?”
“She received a sleeping drought and now rests in her chambers.”
Aewen stood. “That’s well. She took a fright.”
Murial asked no more questions but probably knew the details already. News traveled quickly within the walls of Cobbleford Castle.
A memory returned to Aewen, of Caerla following Raefe. “And my sister? Has she come back?”
Murial looked blank. “Was she not with you?”
Too late, Aewen realized her error. Murial had thought she and Caerla chaperoned one another in the absence of their mother. She shook her head and wondered if Murial would hear the falsehood in her voice. “I—I walked in the garden alone to—to soothe my nerves after all that happened with Mother. I didn’t see where Caerla went. Perhaps she sought the chapel.” She added the last part despite the fact Murial would know Caerla never sought the chapel of her own volition.
Murial gave her a long look, and Aewen knew she blushed. Elcon’s image rose in her mind’s eye, as he had looked when he touched her face at the pool. She had thought she would drown, then, in his eyes. Murial gave a little cough, as if to clear her throat, and looked away. She asked nothing more.
For once Aewen had the chance to capture a stretch of time, for Raefe did not call for her, Inydde slept, and Caerla, for all she knew, remained absent. She sat in the light of one of the tall windows in her outer chamber and occupied herself in needlework while in memory she wandered along garden paths with Elcon. She heard again the timbre of his voice, which stayed with her, as did the feel of his hand in hers and the tender look on his face. As her needle flashed in and out of the linen she embroidered, she fell to humming. At some point Caerla must have returned, for the door to her room slammed. Aewen paused, but then continued with her needlework. She would go to her sister in time, but she needed a breathing space before taking up the threads of life. And so Aewen embroidered bright silks into delicate patterns until the light lessened, leaving Caerla to tend her own wounds.
She set her needlework aside and stretched, yawning. The simple task had restored her, as if silken strands could repair the rent places in her life. She would not admit, even to herself, that thoughts of Elcon brought her joy. She could not seek happiness from such a source, despite the longing that plagued her like a sickness. The fact that Elcon was high king of his people only made her infatuation with him worse. Even if she were free, he was already claimed by duty. Besides, a marriage between a Kindren and an Elder would tear the very fabric of life in Elderland. Such a union had occurred only once in history, to Ellendia, and that had been a disaster. Some Elder children did have light hair and long eyes, but the polite did not inquire into their backgrounds. The rude threw stones. The mothers of these children most often fell upon hard times, and the children themselves lived lives of poverty and shame. She would not wish such a fate on any offspring she might bear. And so, when Raefe came to her door to escort her to the evening’s feast, she linked her arm in his and smiled a welcome. She would put the Kindren king from her mind, if she could not remove him from her heart.
Caerla did not show herself in the great hall that evening, having sent word of a headache. Neither did Inydde or King Devlon of Darksea appear.