The Beauty of Darkness Page 5

  “I’m afraid we’re holding everyone up,” I said.

  He scowled, jerking his reins, and we moved on.

  Brave enough to thumb her nose at two kingdoms. I think that was how my brothers saw it too, but certainly not my parents—nor the cabinet.

  “Rafe, have you ever wondered why I was the one who had to go to Dalbreck to secure the alliance? Couldn’t it have been accomplished just as well by you coming to Morrighan? Why is it always the girl who must give up everything? My mother had to leave her homeland. Greta had to leave hers. Princess Hazelle of Eilandia was shipped off to Candora to create an alliance. Why can’t a man adopt his wife’s homeland?”

  “I couldn’t because I am going to rule Dalbreck one day. I can’t do that from your kingdom.”

  “You aren’t king yet. Were your duties as a prince any more important than mine as a princess?”

  “I’m also a soldier in Dalbreck’s army.”

  I remembered my mother’s claim that I was a soldier in my father’s army, an angle of duty she had never used before. “As I am in Morrighan’s,” I said.

  “Really,” he replied, his tone dubious. “You may have had to leave your homeland, but did you consider everything you would have gained as my queen?”

  “Did you consider everything you might have gained as my king?”

  “You were planning to depose your brothers?”

  I sighed. “No. Walther would have made a fine king.”

  He asked me about my brother, and I managed to talk about him without tears in my eyes for the first time, recalling his kindness, his patience, and all the ways he encouraged me. “He was the one who had taught me how to throw a knife. It was one of his last requests to me, that I keep up my practice.”

  “Was that the same knife you used to kill the Komizar?”

  “Yes. Fitting, don’t you think? And after I stabbed him, I used it to kill Jorik. That’s where I left it, stuck in the middle of his throat. It’s probably for sale in the jehendra by now. Or Malich is wearing it at his side as a memento of his undying fondness for me.”

  “You’re so certain that Malich is the next Komizar?”

  I shrugged. No, I wasn’t certain, but of the Rahtan, he seemed the most ruthless and hungry for power—at least of those who were left alive. Worry burrowed through me. How had the people in the square fared, and what did they think when I disappeared? A part of me was still there.

  “Tell me more about your kingdom,” I said, trying to banish my worst thoughts from my head. “Let’s not waste one more word on vermin like Malich.”

  Rafe stopped his horse again, then shot a warning glare over his shoulder at the others to keep their distance. His chest rose in a slow deep breath, and his pause made me sit higher in my saddle. “What is it?” I asked.

  “When you were traveling across the Cam Lanteux … did any of them—did he hurt you?”

  There it was. Finally.

  I had wondered if it would ever come. Rafe had never asked me a single question about those months I was alone in the wilderness with my captors—what had happened, how I had lived, what they had done—and he’d avoided any mention of Kaden at all. It was as if a fire burned so brightly inside him, he couldn’t allow himself to get too close to it.

  “Which he are you referring to?”

  His gaze faltered. “Malich,” he answered. “That’s who we were talking about.”

  No, not just Malich. Kaden always simmered beneath the surface. This was about him more than anyone else.

  “My time crossing the Cam Lanteux was hard, Rafe. Most of the time I was hungry. All of the time I was afraid. But no one touched me. Not in the way you’re thinking. You could have asked me long ago.”

  His jaw twitched. “I was waiting for you to bring it up. I wasn’t sure if it was too painful for you to talk about. All I had wanted was for you to survive so we could be together again.”

  I grinned and kicked his boot with my own. “And we are together.”

  * * *

  At night, when we could find shelter that afforded some measure of comfort, I read aloud from the Last Testaments of Gaudrel. They all listened with fascination.

  “It appears that Gaudrel was a vagabond,” Rafe said.

  “But with no colorful wagon,” Jeb added.

  “And none of those tasty sage cakes,” Orrin mused.

  “It was soon after the devastation,” I told them. “She and the others were survivors just trying to find their way. I think Gaudrel may have been a witness and one of the original Ancients.”

  “It’s not much like Dalbreck history,” Sven said.

  I realized I was largely ignorant of Dalbreck history. Since it was a kingdom that had sprung from Morrighan many centuries after it was established, I had assumed their view of history was the same as ours. It wasn’t. While they acknowledged that Breck was an exiled prince of Morrighan, their account of the devastation and its aftermath was different, apparently melding with the stories of nomadic tribes who gave the fleeing prince safe passage to the mesa lands of the south.

  It seemed I had stumbled upon yet another history that conflicted with the Holy Text of Morrighan. Dalbreck’s account, at least as Sven told it, had a precise number to the Remnant—exactly one thousand chosen survivors. They spread to the four corners of the earth, but the strongest and most courageous headed south to what would one day become Dalbreck. Breck rallied them and laid the first stone of a kingdom that would become greater than all the others. From there it was all about heroes and battles and the growing might of a new kingdom favored by the gods.

  The only things all of the histories did have in common was a surviving Remnant and a storm. A storm of epic proportions that laid waste to the land.

  “I had warned Venda not to wander too far from the tribe,” I read aloud from Gaudrel’s testament. “A hundred times, I had warned her. I was more her mother than her sister. She came years after the storm. She never felt the ground shake. Never saw the sun turn red. Never saw the sky go black. Never saw fire burst on the horizon and choke the air.”

  I read a few more passages, then closed the book for the night, but the descriptions of the storm lingered, and I turned Gaudrel’s account over silently in my mind. Where was the truth? The ground shook, and fire burst on the horizon. That was a truth Gaudrel had actually witnessed.

  And that was what I had seen too.

  When the Komizar showed me his army city, fire burst forth as the brezalots exploded, the ground shook, and the testing fields stained the sky with copper smoke, choking the horizon.

  Seven stars. Maybe all the destruction wasn’t flung from the heavens.

  Maybe there had been a dragon of many faces, even then.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  RAFE

  Lia’s question stuck with me. Why in the gods’ names would you keep it?

  I had fumbled for answers because I didn’t know myself. When I found the gown, I had cursed her repeatedly as I untangled it from the thorny branches. I’m the crown prince of Dalbreck for the gods’ sake. Why am I cleaning up after a spoiled runaway? When I freed the gown and held it up, I was even angrier. I wasn’t one to dwell on fabrics or fashion like Jeb, but even I could see its matchless beauty. Her complete disregard for the careful work that had gone into it only fueled my fury. But that still didn’t explain why I went to the trouble to stuff it in my bag.

  I knew now. It wasn’t to burn it or wave it in her face. It was something I wouldn’t even admit to myself at the time. It was the warrant for her arrest I had heard about. Her own father was hunting her down like she was an animal. I’d stuffed the dress in my bag because I knew eventually someone else would come. I didn’t want one of them to find the dress—or her.

  I finally reached a crest where I had an open view of the trail behind us. I waited, studying the landscape. How many more excuses could I conjure for Lia? This time I claimed I was scouting for the ridge that led to the valley we would reach today. I didn’
t want her to worry needlessly, but now there was reason to worry. I spotted what I suspected all along and rode back to tell the others.

  “Go,” I whispered to Tavish. “Less than a quarter mile back. Circle around to the south. There’s good cover, and you’ll be downwind in case the horses make noise. I couldn’t see how many through the trees. I’ll stay here with her.”

  Tavish nodded, and they rode off.

  I loosened the strap on my sheath and gripped my hilt just as Lia limped back from a brief trip behind some brambles. She saw them riding away, and an annoyed crease furrowed her brow. “Now, where are they going?”

  I shrugged. “I spotted a flock of geese, and they’re all craving a juicy goose for dinner tonight.”

  “I don’t understand. I thought we were in a hurry to get to the valley floor.”

  “We’re making good time, and we do need to eat tonight.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “All of them needed to go?”

  I turned away, using the premise of searching for something in my saddlebag. “Why not?” I said. “Orrin’s not the only one who likes to hunt.”

  I felt the silence at my back, and I pictured her with her hands on her hips. I didn’t think she’d buy it again.

  When I turned, her head was angled with accusation.

  “I spotted something through the trees when I was out,” I explained. “It was a long way off. I’m certain it was only a herd of deer, but they’re going to go check just to be sure.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I knew it wasn’t deer.

  Fifteen minutes passed.

  Then an hour.

  “Should we go look for them?” I asked.

  “No,” Rafe insisted, but I saw him circling. Positioning the horses. His hand returning to his hilt again and again.

  Finally we heard the ruffled nicker of a horse through the trees, and we both spun toward the sound.

  Tavish emerged from the forest, leading two horses behind him. “Well, well, well,” he crowed. “You were right. Look what we found.”

  The others followed behind him, and when Sven and his horse moved aside, I gasped.

  By the gods. It couldn’t be.

  I hobbled forward, but Rafe stretched his hand out to stop me.

  Orrin and Jeb had their bows drawn, arrows aimed with razor-sharp concentration at Kaden’s and Griz’s hearts as they walked them into our camp. It was as if they didn’t trust a sword to bring down Griz and a safe distance was their best strategy. Sven had already relieved them of their weapons.

  Rafe approached them, eyeing Kaden. Kaden returned his frigid stare. My breath froze in my chest. Nothing had changed between them. Their gazes were heavy with threat, though Kaden was in no position to threaten anyone.

  “So we meet again, Prince Jaxon.”

  “So we do,” Rafe replied, his voice as brittle as the air. “But it looks as if you’ve traveled a long way for nothing. Stupid sot.”

  Kaden’s nostrils flared. He hadn’t missed the irony of his own long-ago words being thrown back into his face.

  “What should we do with them?” Tavish asked.

  Rafe stared at Kaden for what seemed an eternity, then shrugged as if it was of little matter. “Kill them,” he said.

  I jumped forward grabbing his arm. “Rafe! You can’t kill them!”

  “What am I supposed to do, Lia? Take them prisoner? Look at the size of that one!” he said, pointing at Griz. “I don’t even have enough rope to go around him.”

  “There’s rope in their gear,” I countered, waving my hand at a coil hanging from the back of Griz’s horse.

  “And then what? Tie them up so they can wait for the opportunity to slit all our throats and take you back to Venda again? What do you think they’re here for? Just to say hello?”

  Kaden stepped forward, and both Orrin and Jeb yelled at him to hold his position, pulling their bows taut with threat. He stopped. “We don’t want to take her back,” he said. “We’re only here to escort and protect her. A squad of Rahtan and First Guard are charged with hunting her down. They could be here any time.”

  Rafe laughed. “You, escort and protect her? Do you take me for a fool?”

  A smile lit Kaden’s eyes. “That’s beside the point, isn’t it? What’s more important, your pride or Lia’s life?”

  “And that’s why you were stalking us? To protect her?”

  “We were watching for the Vendan riders, hoping to intercept them before they reached her.”

  “And yet, the only Vendan riders I see are you.”

  I didn’t blame Rafe for balking at Kaden’s claim. I questioned his motivations as well. Escort me? When he had claimed that I belonged in Venda with him? When he had assured me at every turn that there was no way for me to escape? There clearly had been. He had found another way across the river. My distrust simmered.

  I limped forward, sidestepping Rafe’s efforts to stop me. I kept a safe distance but looked sternly at Griz. “Put your hands behind your back. Now.”

  He eyed me uncertainly, but then slowly did as I instructed. “Good,” I said. “Now, after they tie you up, you must give me your word you won’t try to escape, and if Kaden should try, you must promise that you’ll strike him down.”

  “How would I do that with my hands tied?” he asked.

  “I don’t care how you do it. Fall on him. That should stop him. Do I have your word?”

  He nodded.

  Rafe grabbed my arm and began to drag me away. “Lia, we’re not going to—”

  I twisted my arm free. “Rafe! We are not going to kill them!” I looked accusingly back at Kaden. “Yet,” I added. I ordered him to put his hands behind his back too. He didn’t move, only stared, his eyes drilling into me, trying to thrust guilt back on me for deceiving him. “I’m not going to ask you a second time, Kaden. Do it.”

  He slowly put his hands behind his back too. “You’re making a mistake,” he said. “You’re going to need me.”

  “Tie them up,” I said to Tavish and Sven. Neither one moved, deferring instead to Rafe for an answer.

  Rafe’s jaw was rigid with anger.

  “Rafe,” I whispered between gritted teeth.

  He relented and signaled to Sven and Tavish, then pulled me over behind the horses, his fury mounting. “What’s the matter with you? Griz’s word is worth nothing, and Kaden’s even less. How are we going to travel with them? Griz will break his word the first time we—”

  “He won’t break his word.”

  Exasperation flashed across Rafe’s face. “And how would you know that?”

  “Because I commanded it, and he believes that I’m his queen.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Valley of the Giants wasn’t what I expected. In the lush basin below us, enormous boxy temples covered in green and gold snaked for miles in neat rows, like a giant’s stash of moss-covered trunks. Sven said legend claimed it to be a marketplace of the Ancients. What treasures had been so grand and immense that structures of equal stature had been required? They lined a path that wound through the valley and finally disappeared behind low hills. Trees with golden leaves sprouted between them, and emerald moss and vines covered their walls. Even though some had fallen into rubble, many were eerily intact, just like in the City of Dark Magic, almost as if the Ancients still roamed there. Even from afar, I could see the remnants of signposts that had once marked the way. Why had this city been spared the ravages of the devastation and time?

  It made me wonder if this was another place that Griz and his cohorts had avoided, fearing that the dark spirits of the Ancients held up the walls. He and Kaden walked ahead of us, traversing the twisting trail down the side of the mountain. Rafe wouldn’t let them ride. He said it was safer to have them walk just ahead of Jeb and Orrin, who still had their bows at the ready, even though Kaden’s and Griz’s hands were firmly tied behind their backs.

  “Would you really have killed them in cold blood?” I asked.

  “I
t’s no less than what he ordered for me.”

  “Tit for tat? Is that how this soldiering stuff works?”

  An annoyed hiss escaped through Rafe’s teeth. “No, I wouldn’t have killed them on the spot. I probably would have waited for Kaden to do something stupid in the heat of the moment—which he surely will—and then I would have killed him. Oh, wait, excuse me! I forgot. We’re all in good hands. Griz promised to fall on him if he got out of line. Do I have that right?”

  I returned his sarcasm with a steely glare. “Next I’m going to order him to fall on you. Save your cynicism. All I needed to know was that you wouldn’t kill them in cold blood.”

  Rafe sighed. “But it doesn’t hurt for them to think that I would. I don’t trust either of them, and we still have a long way until we reach the safety of the outpost.”

  “How long have you known they were following us?”

  “I’ve suspected for a few days now. I saw white smoke early one morning. A campfire being doused, I guessed. What I can’t figure out is how they caught up with us so fast.”

  “I know.” As soon as the last knot was tied on his hands, Kaden’s long-ago explanation, no other way, pinched inside me. It was another of his lies. At the very least, he had deliberately painted a picture that made me assume things.

  “Kaden led me to believe that the bridge into Venda had replaced the old footbridge that used to span the river. I’m guessing, dangerous or not, somewhere not too far from the Sanctum, it still exists. Which means if Griz and Kaden got across, others probably did too. He may not have been lying about the squad.”

  Rafe reached up and raked his fingers through his hair. This was news he didn’t want to hear. If we had a lead at all now, it was only because the snow had covered our tracks.

  Commotion broke out in front of us. The scrape of gravel, the whinny of horses, and startled shouts exploded across the air.

  Whoa!

  Back up!

  Watch out!

  The trail was suddenly bedlam as horses stumbled into one another. Rafe’s sword flashed from its scabbard. I instinctively drew mine too, though I didn’t know what I was defending myself from.