Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Epilogue
Praise for the Novels of the Nine Kingdoms
The Mage’s Daughter
“Engaging characters—family, friends, and enemies—keep the story hopping along with readers relishing every word and hungering for the next installment. [A] perfect ten.” —Romance Reviews Today
“Lynn Kurland has become one of my favorite fantasy authors; I can hardly wait to see what happens next.” —Huntress Reviews
“The Mage’s Daughter, like its predecessor, Star of the Morning, is the best work Lynn Kurland has ever done. I can’t recommend this book highly enough.” —Fresh Fiction
“I couldn’t put the book down . . . The fantasy world, drawn so beautifully, is too wonderful to miss any of it. I highly recommend this book, the series, and all of Ms. Kurland’s other works. Brilliant!”
—Paranormal Romance Reviews
“This is a terrific romantic fantasy. Lynn Kurland provides a fabulous . . . tale that sets the stage for an incredible finish.”
—Midwest Book Review
Star of the Morning
“Kurland launches a stunning, rich, and poetic new trilogy. The quest is on!” —Romantic Times
“Terrific . . . Lynn Kurland provides fantasy readers with a delightful quest tale starring likable heroes . . . A magical beginning to what looks like will be a superb romantic fantasy trilogy.”
—Midwest Book Review
“Entertaining fantasy.” —Romance Reviews Today
“An enchanting writer.” —The Eternal Night
“A superbly crafted, sweetly romantic tale of adventure and magic.”
Booklist
continued . . .
“I dare you to read a Kurland story and not enjoy it!”
—Heartland Critiques
Dreams of Stardust
“Kurland weaves another fabulous read with just the right amounts of laughter, romance, and fantasy.” —Affaire de Coeur
“Kurland crafts some of the most ingenious time-travel romances readers can find . . . Wonderfully clever and completely enchanting.”
—Romantic Times
“A masterful storyteller . . . [a] mesmerizing novel.” —Romance Junkies
“One of our most beloved time-travel authors and deservedly so. Each new book is cause for celebration!” —Fresh Fiction
A Garden in the Rain
“Kurland laces her exquisitely romantic, utterly bewitching blend of contemporary romance and time travel with a delectable touch of tart wit, leaving readers savoring every word of this superbly written romance.” —Booklist
“Kurland . . . consistently delivers the kind of stories readers dream about. Don’t miss this one.” —The Oakland (MI) Press
From This Moment On
“A disarming blend of romance, suspense, and heartwarming humor, this book is romantic comedy at its best.” —Publishers Weekly
“A deftly plotted delight.” —Booklist
My Heart Stood Still
“The essence of pure romance. Sweet, poignant, and truly magical, this is a rare treat.” —Booklist
“Kurland out-writes romance fiction’s top authors by a mile.”
—Publishers Weekly
If I Had You
“Kurland brings history to life . . . in this tender medieval romance.”
—Booklist
The More I See You
“Blends history with spellbinding passion and impressive characterization, not to mention a magnificent plot.” —Rendezvous
Another Chance to Dream
“Kurland creates a special romance.” —Publishers Weekly
The Very Thought of You
“[A] masterpiece . . . This fabulous tale will enchant anyone who reads it.” —Painted Rock Reviews
This Is All I Ask
“An exceptional read.” —The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
“Both powerful and sensitive . . . A wonderfully rich and rewarding book.”—Susan Wiggs
“A medieval of stunning intensity. Sprinkled with adventure, fantasy, and heart.”—Christina Dodd
A Dance Through Time
“An irresistibly fast and funny romp across time.”—Stella Cameron
“Vastly entertaining time travel . . . a humorous novel of feisty fun and adventure.” —A Little Romance
Titles by Lynn Kurland
STARDUST OF YESTERDAY
A DANCE THROUGH TIME
THIS IS ALL I ASK
THE VERY THOUGHT OF YOU
ANOTHER CHANCE TO DREAM
THE MORE I SEE YOU
IF I HAD YOU
MY HEART STOOD STILL
FROM THIS MOMENT ON
A GARDEN IN THE RAIN
DREAMS OF STARDUST
MUCH ADO IN THE MOONLIGHT
WHEN I FALL IN LOVE
WITH EVERY BREATH
The Novels of the Nine Kingdoms
STAR OF THE MORNING
THE MAGE’S DAUGHTER
PRINCESS OF THE SWORD
Anthologies
THE CHRISTMAS CAT
(with Julie Beard, Barbara Bretton, and Jo Beverley)
CHRISTMAS SPIRITS
(with Casey Claybourne, Elizabeth Bevarly, and Jenny Lykins)
VEILS OF TIME
(with Maggie Shayne, Angie Ray, and Ingrid Weaver)
OPPOSITES ATTRACT
(with Elizabeth Bevarly, Emily Carmichael, and Elda Minger)
LOVE CAME JUST IN TIME
A KNIGHT’S VOW
(with Patricia Potter, Deborah Simmons, and Glynnis Campbell)
TAPESTRY
(with Madeline Hunter, Sherrilyn Kenyon, and Karen Marie Moning)
TO WEAVE A WEB OF MAGIC
(with Patricia A. McKillip, Sharon Shinn, and Claire Delacroix)
THE QUEEN IN WINTER
(with Sharon Shinn, Claire Delacroix, and Sarah Monette)
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.
This is a work of fiction. Names
, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2009 by Lynn Curland.
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PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation trade paperback edition / January 2009
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Kurland, Lynn.
Princess of the sword / Lynn Kurland.—Berkley Sensation trade pbk. ed.
p. cm.
eISBN : 978-1-101-01407-3
1. Magic—Fiction. 2. Princesses—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3561.U645P75 2009
813’.54—dc22 2008041861
http://us.penguingroup.com
One
A dank chill filled the air, slipping down the weathered sides of A crooked buildings to pool on glistening cobblestones. It hung in great tatters against the keep that sat perched atop a bluff like a great bird of prey. In the distance, a ship’s bell tolled. The sound was muffled by the night air, as if the mist didn’t particularly care to awaken anyone who might be sleeping inside that shadowy keep.
Morgan of Melksham understood that. She had no desire to wake anything in that keep either. In fact, she had no desire to get close enough to it for any unfortunate night-time interruptions to be a possibility. Only a madman would have approached those walls, shrouded as they were in spells and other unpleasant things of a wizardly nature.
Normally, she wouldn’t have found herself anywhere near such a place. She was a very practical woman with a straightforward way of conducting her life, which generally included a fondness for sharp swords and a habit of avoiding whenever possible any associations with mages.
Or at least that had been true until the fall. It was then that her life had become something so far from what she’d expected it would be, she scarce recognized it as hers any longer.
It had all begun with a simple request from a man she loved like a father, a request to take a blade from the Island of Melksham all the way to the king’s palace on the northern border of Neroche. She had agreed, reluctantly, but knowing that she couldn’t in good conscience refuse. She’d expected the journey to be difficult, dangerous, and possibly fatal to her person.
She’d sorely underestimated the potential for all three.
The knife had revealed itself to be rather more magical than she’d been told, her travels had led her to discover things about her past she wouldn’t have dreamt in her worst nightmares, and the companions she’d collected along the way—or one of them, rather—had turned out to be substantially more magical than she’d feared.
All of which had led, in a most roundabout fashion, to her standing uneasily under the eaves of an inn and feeling an unreasonable amount of trepidation at the thought of assaulting the fortress in front of her so she could steal something that was critical to another battle she intended to fight in a place she most certainly didn’t want to go.
It wasn’t the climbing over walls that bothered her. She had, during her long and illustrious career as a mercenary, ended more than one siege by slipping into a keep and convincing the recalcitrant lord there that it would be wise for him to just give up and give in rather than face what she could promise would be a very long and unpleasant war.
It wasn’t even the theft that troubled her. Spoils were spoils and, when fairly won, really couldn’t be considered plundered goods.
What bothered her was that the castle before her was so slathered in magic that even she could feel it from where she stood fifty paces away, and she was preparing to be about her nefarious business with a man who should have known better.
“This is a terrible idea,” she said, not for the first time.
Mochriadhemiach of Neroche stood next to her with his arms folded over his chest, staring thoughtfully at the fortress in front of them. “We’ll be in and out before anyone is the wiser,” he said, also not for the first time.
“Have you ever done this before?” she asked unwillingly. “Here?”
“Aye,” he said, but offered no further details.
She supposed she didn’t want further details. She suspected he did this sort of thing on a regular basis to add to his already too-large collection of spells. At least he had the benefit of not being bothered by the magic. She wished she could say the same for herself.
But she wasn’t one to shy away from the difficult, so she turned her thoughts back to the matter at hand. The keep had to be assaulted, and she needed to know the particulars of the defenses so she wouldn’t make any mistakes in the taking of it.
“You said something about magic guarding the walls,” she said, suppressing the urge to shiver from a cold that came from more than just evening mist. “You should tell me of it again.” She looked up at Miach. “I wasn’t listening when you tried before.”
He smiled as he turned her to him and pulled her cloak up closer to her chin. “I imagine you weren’t, so here is the tale. Several centuries ago, the headmaster, whose job it is to see to these sorts of things, determined that it would serve the wizards of Buidseachd to know who walked in and out of their gates.”
“Or over their walls,” she added.
“Aye, that too, I daresay,” he agreed. “Master Ceannard crafted a spell that sets off an alarm in his chambers if any but he who has presented himself to the gatekeeper uses any sort of magic within the boundaries of the castle. Keeps the rabble out, I daresay.”
“I daresay,” she muttered.
He studied her for a moment or two before he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You know, I wouldn’t think any less of you if you stayed here.”
“I can scale a wall as proficiently as you, my lord.”
He smiled briefly. “You know that isn’t what I’m talking about.” He glanced at the keep, then looked back at her. “I fear, Morgan, that I will walk places tonight where you won’t want to go.”
She looked up at him, his face cast in deep shadows, and supposed she could have told him that what lay before them was the least of her worries, but she imagined he already knew that. She also could have reminded him that he was braving the place in front of them to fetch a spell for her use, not his, but she supposed he knew that already as well. This was merely another in a very long list of things he had done for her benefit alone. The least she could do was go with him and see that he didn’t find himself with a sword thrust into his back.
No matter where his path led.
“I don’t fear what’s inside those walls,” she said, wondering if saying it often enough would at some point lead her to believe the lie. “Just tell me how we’re going to avoid that alarm.”
He looked at her for another moment in silence, then sighed. “We’re not going to use any magic as we’re about our business.”
“And just who you are won’t set bells to ringing?”
“I’m going to hide who—and what—I am.” He paused. “You’ll need to do the same.”
She knew she shouldn’t have been surprised by how dry her mouth had suddenly become, but she was. She had faced countless men over blades and never once doubted her skill, yet there she was, terrified just the same.
Magic was, as her former swordmaster Scrymgeour Weger had said on more than one occasion, a very dodgy business indeed.
“I’m going to give you a Duriallian spell,” Miach continued. “I think it will do for ou
r purposes tonight.”
“I didn’t think the dwarves had any spells.”
“They don’t have very many, and they are, as you might imagine, exceptionally reluctant to share the ones they do have.”
“Find yourself locked in some dwarvish solar without anything to do save poke about in books you shouldn’t have been reading?” she asked pointedly.
He smiled. “I might have.”
“Miach, someday you’re going to get caught.” Just please don’t let it be tonight.
“I always have a good excuse for being where I’m not supposed to be,” he assured her. “Now, the spell I’m going to give you is particularly useful when you want to hide something. A cache of gems, or perhaps piles of gold. Or yourself.” He paused. “Or, rather, merely a part of yourself. As in, just your magic.”
“But how can I use one of their spells?” she protested faintly. “I thought you could only use what magic you had in your blood.” Well, unless you happened to be the archmage of some realm or other and then she supposed anything was possible.
“Magic is generally responsive only to what the mage has in his veins,” he agreed, “but ’tis possible to use things you aren’t entitled to by birth if you have enough power.” He smiled faintly. “Are you truly curious, or merely stalling?”
“Stalling, if you can believe it.” She purposely avoided looking to her right. “And I never stall.”
He rubbed her arms briskly. “Then let’s be about this before we think on it any longer,” he said. “I’ll give you the spell, then tell you two ways to undo it. One takes a handful of words; the other a single word only. I wouldn’t use the second unless you’ve absolutely no other choice.”