Princess Taya Relindos stood at the top of the Grand Stair of Elibarran and watched her brother, King Edon, as he stood surrounded by a circle of dukes. Most men Edon’s age would be impressed by the fine clothes, the jewelled rings, their aura of power. Edon looked at them like bugs underfoot.
She had scarcely seen Edon when he had first returned from Gravensford. Death and fire had roamed the halls of Elibarran, and Edon had confined Taya to her rooms. The guards posted at her door were loyal only to her brother. Meals were brought in while she stalked about like a trapped cat. She’d had only her vala for company, and Juliet had gone almost as stir-crazy as Taya, despite the opportunities presented by several days cooped up privately. Juliet stood behind Taya just now, and the princess felt comforted.
Then the news had come that Edon was leaving the city again, a bare ten days after arriving. In that time she had softened up the guards and gotten some gossip out of them. And then there were the palace servants, who would sooner stop breathing than gossiping. Their words had been hard to believe, at first: Viktor, the king, her father… dead? It could not be. Then the certainty, borne by every tongue, that it had been Edon who had murdered him.
Taya knew that Viktor and Edon had not gotten along. The whole kingdom knew. But it was a far cry from paternal derision to murder… or it should have been. She had been let out of her rooms just as Edon was departing, and had only enough time to rush to the stables and ask him, “Is it true?”
He’d glanced down at her from atop his destrier, imposing in his golden plate, and nodded once before galloping away, a score of knights and lords in tow. He’d left Terilin Faroa as his seneschal, but the craven duke dared not impose his will on Taya. It had been easy to make Faroa divulge Edon’s destination.
Why Hedenham County? Relindos had no holdings there. Taya made up for lost time in the following days, interrogating every servant, guard, and courtier she could get her hands on. There were all sorts of rumors and stories about Edon, and the only one that stuck in her mind was about a lady, a noble lady, whom Edon had had brought to the palace. It had been the day after the summer ball, the same day Edon had decamped for Gravensford without warning. She hadn’t seen him since the ball; she’d stayed up until dawn carousing, and slept half the day. By the time she’d woken, Edon was gone, and her father would not speak of it.
A few of the palace guards and servants spoke of a lord and lady who had been summoned by Edon, but none of them seemed to know the details—who they were, where they lived. Taya suspected that Captain Portio might know something, but she could not turn him. He pled ignorance or found some way to excuse himself whenever she thought she had him cornered. Others might have considered it bad luck, but she suspected that the good captain was deep in Edon’s pocket.
With Edon gone for weeks, she’d more or less put it aside, but after Edon completed his coup and left for Hedenham, Taya had begun to wonder. Who was the lady? A daughter of a Hedenham baron? Why would Edon depart the city so soon after taking the throne? What could possibly be so important?
———
Taya did not particularly miss her father, except as one misses an ancient oak finally blown over by a storm. The landscape was different now; she could not fail to notice it wherever she looked.
Viktor had had such high hopes for his firstborn son, hopes that withered as time revealed Edon to be a malevolent, lecherous brute, his cruelty kept in check only by the threat of his father’s wrath. Viktor’s two daughters did him no good; he had no time for them, leaving them to be raised and attended by their mother and their maids. Queen Alise was gentle; too gentle for the rigors of child-rearing, and so Taya had been abandoned to the ministrations of a series of nannies and governesses. None of them had lasted long, except Mrs. Hastings. That crone had been more than equal to the task… and had left Taya with scars that none could see.
Luka had been his father’s last hope, but he’d turned out bookish, utterly indifferent to matters of state and war. A final disappointment. No wonder Viktor had spent so much time drinking.
Taya drank, but not to excess. Only to the point of pleasure. And unlike her father, she had goals that she could effect herself, rather than trusting to blind chance. She was almost eighteen. Already her network of informants in the palace rivaled Lord Gessim’s. Between them and the others she questioned, she pieced together that Edon had returned from Gravensford accompanied by a dozen young lords who obeyed his every command with alacrity. Sir Mirlind, whom Viktor had sent to keep an eye on Edon, was not among them; Taya was sure that Edon had killed him before returning to the capital.
Edon and his men had burst into the throne room while Viktor held court. The king, having not yet sent for his exiled son, was infuriated that he’d returned. He’d ordered his guards to arrest Edon, only to watch helplessly as a thunderclap flung them across the room. More guards attacked the prince and met the same fate. Viktor fled, and Edon followed. None saw what happened next, but more thunderclaps were heard, and Edon returned to the throne room, spattered with blood, where he sat upon the Oakheart Throne. King Viktor was not seen alive again.
Edon had immediately summoned the Epirro Ulishim himself, Grand High Steward Aerandin, to perform a curious dual rite: the burial ritual, to consecrate Viktor’s body and prepare him for his return to the earth; and the coronation, to formally invest Edon as king. Only a few nobles had been permitted to attend, to attest that both ceremonies had been rightly performed. Taya had not seen either.
There was fighting afterward; a few dukes tried to resist their new king, but the rebellion lasted no more than a day or two, and the traitors were either killed in the fighting or captured and put to death. It had not taken long for Edon to gain control over the dukes, the army, the Wardens, and the Niderium. The Niderium had almost been an afterthought; they had significant wealth but did not involve themselves in the politics of the realm. Edon’s visit to Ulisharran was nothing more than a formality, to remind the priests of who was in charge.
The Wardens had holed up in their little fortress. Taya did not miss that none of them had ridden with Edon to Hedenham. It had taken Edon longer to bring them to heel than she would have expected. Once Edon again returned to Callaston, he sent for Wardens to serve as his bodyguards. He sought to bind them to him, that much was obvious. Edon might not have much cunning, but brute force seemed to serve him well enough.
Taya did not fear for her own life. She and Edon had always gotten along, more or less, mostly because they had no shared interests and thus nothing to conflict over. Edon rode and hunted and whored; Taya kept busy with arranging entertainments for visiting nobles and dignitaries. It was her cover for collecting information and establishing her own little power base. She would not be passive and weak like her mother.
But now Edon had power, power that Taya had craved and had long known would never be hers. Her stomach had sunk whenever Viktor had called her to his study, wondering if today was the day he’d inform her that she would be married off to this duke or that count. The end of her freedom, to while away her years as a gussied-up brood mare in some far-flung manor, seeing to the household in whatever absurd little domain fate sent her to.
Fate, it seemed, was not without a sense of irony. She had lost her father but gained a chance at power, a chance at ruling. Edon was strong like an ox, and about as clever. Taya’s mind was sharp and her will iron. The realm would never accept a ruling queen, but women had ruled from behind husbands and brothers before. All she had to do was to let Edon occupy the throne while she quietly arranged events to suit her. It wasn’t glory she wanted; just the knowledge that the realm danced to her tune, even if her brother was the piper.
She had been worried at first about competition from Edon’s new wife, who was the youngest daughter of the Duke of Westreach. Cheraline Artalis—Cheraline Relindos, now—was plump, pretty, and, as far as Taya had seen, perfectly obedient, at least in public. As Edon’s wife, she’d be ideally positioned to influence her husband in the
most subtle of ways. But by all reports, the girl was just as quiet and servile in private, as well—information that pleased Taya, and had cost her a pretty penny in bribes to the girl’s maids.
Edon had married the girl only a few days before departing for Hedenham, and spent every evening trying to get her with child. Even someone as dim as Edon knew the value of getting started on the business of making heirs.
Taya came back to herself when Edon finally broke from the cluster of dukes and started up the Grand Stair, with the Wardens at his back. Taya straightened her spine and rested one hand gently on the banister. “Your majesty,” she called out as Edon came up the steps toward her. Taya bowed, and her vala followed suit.
Edon looked up at her. “Sister,” he said, flat and cold as winter ice. There was a round, shiny patch on his left cheek, the size of a plum. Only a minor disfigurement, but the rumors said it had been inflicted on him by a woman he’d brought into the palace. A noblewoman…
Taya smiled at him. “I am glad to see you’ve returned safely. Might we converse? I have much concerning our family to speak to you about.”
Edon jerked to a halt. Taya felt satisfaction at getting his attention. She just hoped it wasn’t the wrong kind of attention. She tried not to envision their father, fleeing from his son, cut down by whatever terrible power he wielded.
“The family? Very well. Come along.” He strode off without another word, the two Wardens hewing close to their king. One of them she did not know; he was of middling age and had only arrived in the city recently. But she knew the other: Mason Iris, he of the young face and white hair, who had been at court that spring and summer. His silvered armor and gleaming sword peeked from beneath his black cloak; the sigil of his order perched upon his shoulder. Warden Iris spared her a slight nod, but he watched only for physical threats. Your wariness will be of no use against me, Warden.
———
In Edon’s study, Taya sat demurely on the edge of the chair Edon offered her, her hands crossed on her knee. Today she had deliberately worn a high-necked gown of soft gray, cut to conceal her charms rather than enhance them. Her brother he might be, but she had seen him look at her with hungry eyes before. He would never act on it, she knew, nor would she let him. Power or not, I’d rip your balls off if you tried that with me. She wanted him focused, not distracted. They’d left her vala and the Wardens outside. She hoped the men knew better than to bother Juliet. Taya’s vala did not tolerate pushy men.
Edon had been back from Hedenham two days already. All his time since then had been taken up with governing the realm. The wheels of commerce and politics did not grind to a halt merely because a king died.
“What concerns you?” Edon said, dropping into his own chair. He was still young, but already seemed as tired as their father always had.
She hesitated for effect. “It is difficult to begin… I say this from a place of love, dear brother, but I’m afraid I must be blunt. You murdered our father.”
Edon had been rubbing his eyes. He stopped abruptly and glared at her. “Who are you to accuse me?”
“It is not an accusation. It is merely a statement of fact. I am no one to judge matters of state and war. You clearly believed that Vasland was a great enough threat to… do what you did. As is your right, as king.”
“And I mean to finish that,” Edon said. “When I leave here again, it will be for Vasland. Father’s death will not have been in vain.”
Taya nodded. “And I hope you have a rule as long and fruitful as any king’s. But like all men, you are not perfect. You have your flaws.”
“Get to your point,” Edon said.
“None can doubt your strength. But I mean it as no insult when I say that cunning and cleverness have never come easy to you. Let me help you on that account. I know you have councillors and lords at your call, but none of them have the safety of this family as their primary concern. By contrast, this family is all that I have.” She held her breath and waited. Would Edon take offense? Would he let her in?
He stared at her. For a moment Taya thought he was angry with her, but he blinked and looked away, as if considering something. Finally his eyes met hers again. “Come here.” He stood and went out to his balcony. Taya followed, and stood at the railing.
“Choose a tree,” Edon said, looking down into the gardens below. There was no one around, only the stillness of a summer afternoon.
“A tree?” Taya pointed at a tall, spindly poplar, a scarecrow of a tree she’d always liked. “That one.”
Edon stared down at the poplar, and a moment later its trunk exploded into shards. Taya jerked back a split second later when a thunderclap struck her ears. She stared dumbly at her brother. Her mouth worked, searching for words, until at last she simply went back inside and sat down again, if only to stop the world spinning about her.
How had she missed this? How could Edon have this astonishing power without her knowing? She gritted her teeth and tried to contain the anger that roiled up, to save it for later. She was going to have unpleasant words for several of her informants.
She listened without interrupting as Edon explained this power he’d discovered he had, and how at Gravensford he’d been gripped by an iron certainty that he had been ordained for a higher purpose: Garova would be challenged by a great evil, and he would lead his people through that darkness, to a glorious destiny that lay beyond. He said the Caretaker had spoken to him. At the moment, Taya was in no position to doubt him.
Though she was astonished, she did notice the vagueness of his claims of a higher destiny. But the power he wielded was undeniably real. She waited until his explanation wound down, then cleared her throat. “What is this evil we must fight? Vasland?”
“No. Not Vasland. They are an ordinary threat. But I don’t know for certain. I think it has to do with that…” He trailed off.
Taya ventured a guess. “The noble lady you brought here.”
Edon snapped his gaze up to her. “What do you know about that?”
Careful. She held up her hands. “Only what palace gossip said. You brought a lady here, and she injured you and fled.” Taya had been careful not to stare at the scar on Edon’s cheek. And she did not mention the other parts of the rumor: that Edon had tried to rape the girl, or that she had somehow also killed Gaelan Thoriss, hero of a hundred battles. “Majesty. Brother. We should work together! I have resources and skills that you do not. I could never best a man in battle as you could, but sometimes subtle words will get you what you want more quickly and cleanly than any show of force could.”
Edon had always been one to stare, but now his gaze pierced in a way that Taya did not remember from their younger days. She felt relief when he nodded slowly. “You are right. A king should make use of all the tools at his disposal.”
Taya gave him her fondest smile. She did like him, even if he was a bit thick. “Thank you, brother. Of course, I can only help you if I have all the pertinent information.” She touched her own cheek, and looked at his.
Edon blinked, and touched his scar. “Yes… this…” He told her the tale, how he had seen this lady Amira at the receiving line. Taya remembered her. She had stood, staring dumbly like a cow, making everyone behind her wait. Not the first newly-raised noble to make a spectacle of herself, for certain.
Except Edon said that he had seen in her a shining light, like molten silver. He had her brought to him the next day, along with the count’s son who had accompanied her to the ball, and their valai. Edon wanted to know what this silver light was. No one else at the ball had seen it. Not Sir Thoriss, not anyone. Edon had interrogated Lord Tarian and the valai, but they all seemed to know nothing. When Amira was brought before him, he saw the silver light again.
Here he hesitated. Taya sat on the very edge of her seat, rapt. Edon was sometimes taken by fancies and nonsense; even as a child he had often claimed that witches casting spells on him were responsible for his misbehavior. But she believed that he had seen this silver light a
s he claimed.
After a moment, Edon continued. This Lady Amira had told him nothing, and then used her power to burn his face. When Sir Thoriss came in at his shout, she killed the old knight with her power and fled.
Then he refused to say any more about that day except that father had banished him to Gravensford. To Taya, it was plain that he and Viktor must have had a fierce argument.
“So after you… returned from Gravensford, you sought out this Lady Amira again, in Hedenham?”
Edon looked away. He nodded and told Taya about his journey there, and the Tarians’ efforts to conceal Amira, and the pitched battle that had been fought at an old keep.
“Why not chase after her once she escaped?”
Edon pursed his lips for a moment. “I had to return here. The realm needs stability. I could have sent men after her, but they would be no match. I must find her myself.” He stared not at Taya, but through her. “I must know more of her. Of this power we share.” He sat up a little straighter. “I captured her vala, hiding in the keep. She is down in the dungeon. I questioned her, but she’s an idiot. She knows nothing. I should have her head off.”
Taya’s heart leapt. “Let me have her,” she said in a rush. “She may know something. You are so… intimidating. I may be able to soothe her, as with a nervous mare.”
After a moment Edon nodded. “Very well. I shall have her sent to your rooms.”
“No,” Taya said abruptly. Edon squinted at her. “My apologies, your majesty, but let me handle this. I think a delicate touch is required.”
Her brother’s eyes drooped. He seemed exhausted, and dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Taya bowed and went out, feeling a warm tingle in her chest. Edon had given her exactly what she wanted.
She collected Juliet from the anteroom and returned to her chambers. There was a great deal of planning to be done.
CHAPTER 17
KATIN