Legacy

  I looked at him blankly, and he glanced at Miranna as if begging her to help him allay my anxiety. He was clearly under the impression that the reason for my concern was that I couldn’t bear to be apart from Steldor.

  When Miranna shrugged but otherwise remained mute, my father spoke again, his spirits dampened by my reaction.

  “Well then, there’s another item to discuss. I noted that things went quite well between you and Steldor at Semari’s birthday. That was an extraordinary gift he extended, and I was happy to see you accept it. Your mother and I were also quite heartened to see the two of you dance.”

  My father’s brown eyes sparkled as his zest for his subject increased.

  “I think the time has come to make it known to the kingdom that you and Steldor are to be wed. I’ve talked with the priest about a betrothal ceremony, and I have arranged for it to take place within the next few days so that the engagement can be made known at the tournament.”

  My lips parted in shock. I could not believe that he thought I was on good enough terms with Steldor to be betrothed. Steldor would embrace the idea, but I could hardly stand to consider it, as evidenced by my urge to bolt from the room.

  “I can’t.” I faltered, hoping I sounded less distraught than I felt.

  My father frowned. “Whatever do you mean, Alera?”

  “I mean…that I can’t. I can’t pledge myself to Steldor. I…am not convinced he is the man I should marry.”

  A strained silence fell in the room, the only sound an occasional hiss from the fireplace.

  “Why not?” my father demanded.

  I searched for a way to express my feelings, for I knew the simple fact that I abhorred Steldor would not disqualify him as a candidate. While I knew I was risking my father’s anger and jeopardizing his opinion of me, all I could think to do was to tell him something I had confided only to my sister.

  “I feel…an attraction…to someone else.”

  “You are attracted to someone else?” he repeated, playing with his ring in agitation. “Who is this person?”

  “I do not wish to say. But the fact that I am drawn to someone else would suggest that Steldor is not the ideal match for me.”

  I prayed I did not sound disrespectful. Nonetheless, my father did not take this revelation well.

  “This is preposterous, Alera. If you will not tell me who this young man is, then I must assume he is someone of whom I would not approve, in which case, you would not be permitted to marry him. Unless this other man possesses the qualities necessary to be my successor, whether you are attracted to him or not is irrelevant. You must marry a king.”

  “I implore you, Father. Just give me a little more time.”

  He looked at me critically for a moment, then relented with a heavy sigh.

  “Granted. But I expect you to use the time wisely. We are six months from your birthday and the day when you will be wed, and a decision must be reached regarding your husband. In fairness to Steldor, it is deceitful of you to receive such a splendid gift as that necklace with a divided heart.”

  My father stood to leave, then faced me one last time, his stern visage making him seem older, and I became cognizant of the extent to which his dark brown hair had been replaced by gray. At that moment, I realized why his sights were so firmly set on my birthday. “Alera, notwithstanding this other person, you are to bestow upon Steldor the honor of acting as your escort for the tournament and the dinner preceding it.”

  My father’s steps were noticeably less buoyant when he at last exited the room. As his footfalls faded, frantic thoughts flashed in my head, but strangely, the one that plagued me most was the fighting exhibition my father had mentioned. Why had Steldor volunteered? His opinion of Narian was no secret to me, and I doubted it was to the captain. Cannan must have deemed his son trustworthy, but I could not conceive that Steldor’s motivations in participating in this simulated fight were innocent.

  I glanced at Miranna, who was twisting her coppery-blond hair, and knew that she was having similar thoughts.

  “Now men really are fighting over you,” she said.

  Criers and heralds who had been sent forth several weeks ago to publicize the approach of the weeklong Harvest Festival began to return over the next few days, and vendors from surrounding kingdoms arrived to unpack and set up their displays. Everyone intending to offer merchandise for sale was required to check in with the keeper of the faire to pay a fee and be assigned a location from which to operate. Inns began to fill and business at the taverns boomed as excitement reached a fever pitch.

  The morning of the first day of the faire dawned crisp and clear. Miranna and I worked our way through the gathering crowd to the grassy area where market day was normally held. Tents spread from here toward the Military Complex and the palace to the north. A smiling Halias and a grim Destari accompanied us, but this time they remained in uniform and stayed at our sides, as there was a much increased potential for jostling and thievery amidst such a teeming crowd.

  As we wandered among the tents, a happy uproar bombarded our ears, as laughing, shouting and bargaining blended into a cacophony of sound. Above the hubbub, we would occasionally catch an unusual accent or a foreign tongue, or the melodic tones of minstrels and musicians. I cocked my head at one point, believing that I had heard a Cokyrian accent. Was Narian nearby? I thought it possible, for he had been living in the city since the night of Semari’s birthday celebration, but I did not catch a glimpse of him.

  The sights of the faire were as overwhelming as the din. There was an astounding variety of merchandise for sale: wool, cotton, silk and linen cloth were available in myriad colors, some interwoven with strands of gold or silver. Hemp for nets, ropes and bowstrings; furs and skins; and embossed leather were also in abundant supply. Spice vendors busily measured out unusual seasonings such as cinnamon, pepper, cardamom, turmeric and mustard seed for their eager buyers, and purveyors of rare oils and perfumes did the same. As we moved with the flow of people, we saw jewelry, swords and daggers, magnificent tapestries, handcrafted candlesticks and chests, hand-carved ivory and ebony figurines, valuable books, exotic clothing and rare carpets, all of which were available for purchase.

  The inevitable scuffle, as well as a brawl or two, would occasionally break out in the pathways between the tents, to be quickly subdued by City Guards who were trolling the grounds in large numbers. It was important to the success of the faire that the merchandise was protected from theft and damage and the safety of sellers and buyers alike ensured.

  Perhaps our favorite aspect of the faire was the entertainment, with the large selection of tempting treats for the palate a close second. We laughed at the antics of tumblers and jugglers, and gaped in awe at magicians who could swallow swords and fire. The smells of stews, meat pies and other prepared foods whetted our appetites, while unusual sweets, uncommon flavors of cheese and sumptuous tastes, like chocolate, fed our souls.

  We returned to the palace that evening quite fatigued, but exuberant, our senses battered by the sights, sounds and smells of the day. We were determined, however, to venture forth again, and our next few days followed the pattern of the first, as it took a good deal of time to fully appreciate the festivities. We would wake in the morning ready to meet the challenge of the day, and fall into our beds utterly exhausted in the evening.

  As the week went on, more visitors arrived. The inns were now overflowing, and some city residents made extra money by renting out rooms in their homes, while the King permitted travelers to pitch tents on the open ground near the palace or outside the city walls. Most of these new arrivals were coming to participate in the tournament that was held on the last day of the Harvest Festival. Young men, lured by the generous prize money and other rewards the King posted for the winners, came from far and wide to participate in the contests that would challenge their skills and, in many cases, their bravery.

  On the day before the tournament, Miranna and I did not attend the faire, as I was
needed to oversee the final preparations that were underway in the palace for the pretournament dinner. My mother had once again placed the event in my hands, which I understood to be a high honor, for it implied my skills were adequate in this regard. My primary tasks had been planning the menu and the evening’s merriment.

  The dinner would be held in the King’s Dining Hall on the second floor, with approximately four hundred guests in attendance. The guests were those men who had paid their entry fee to participate in the tournament and their ladies. The King’s Dining Hall could seat at least a thousand people, with ten oak tables running the length of the room. Three dozen candlelit chandeliers provided lighting, as did numerous oil lamps hung by chains from the walls. At the far end of the hall, a high table was set perpendicular to the rest for the royal family and our escorts. Decorations were minimal, as this dinner was less formal than most hosted by the King. Spirits tended to run high, wine flowed freely, bragging was boisterous and entertainment was plentiful.

  On the evening of the feast, Miranna and I awaited the arrival of our escorts in the second-floor lesson room, which doubled as a parlor, with Destari and Halias outside in the corridor. I was wearing a gown of burgundy velvet that laced across the bodice, then fell into a wide circle skirt, the richness of the color complementing my loose dark brown tresses. Miranna’s gown of deep blue velvet captured the color of her eyes and was styled with a fitted waist and gently flaring skirt.

  It wasn’t long before Steldor, self-assured and resplendent in a black doublet with gold stitching, and Temerson, scared and uncomfortable in an ivory doublet, arrived. Tradition dictated that the men honored by the handkerchiefs display them in some way, and Steldor had tied the one he had received from me around the hilt of his sword. This tradition did not denote a romance between us to the public eye, but it was significant nonetheless. In our patriarchal society, the custom of the handkerchiefs allowed women to lay claim to men for once, rather than the other way around. Whether or not I wanted Steldor was another matter, and I pondered the notion of some far-off man I might have happily claimed, a strong, fierce, but respectful man. I felt moments away from conjuring a face to match my daydream, but instead I was distracted by Temerson. He carried no sword, and I could not at first discern how he was displaying Miranna’s handkerchief, but then saw it tied about his left wrist.

  Steldor took the lead, kissing my hand as he always did. Dispensing with small talk, he extended his arm to me.

  “May I have the honor?”

  I nodded, uncertain what to expect from him as we had not parted on the best of terms two weeks previously. We left the room to walk down the corridor to the dining hall, followed by Miranna and Temerson, and our bodyguards. As we proceeded, I ruminated over Steldor’s atypical behavior—he had neither flippantly complimented me nor tried to engage me in conversation.

  My thoughts flew apart when the door to the hall opened and the raucous sounds of the guests hit my ears. We walked down the center of the room toward the high table, the noise subsiding as heads were lowered in respect. Wine and ale were being served, but the feast would not begin until the King and Queen arrived. Steldor, at his charming best, held my chair out for me as I took my seat, then poured and offered me a glass of deep red wine.

  A trumpet blast from the far end of the hall told me that my parents were about to enter, preceded as always by Lanek. I laughed softly as I realized even the palace herald could not have been heard above this group of revelers, and he had thus been forced to resort to trumpets.

  “All rise for King Adrik and his queen, the Lady Elissia,” Lanek shouted.

  The room fell silent as those gathered in the hall stood for the entrance of the King and Queen. My father greeted his guests as he proceeded, while my mother walked serenely at his side. A dozen Elite Guards followed in pairs, moving to stand in a row behind the high table with Halias and Destari, their royal-blue uniforms adding vibrant color to the rich, cherry-paneled wall. Cannan, Kade and a number of Kade’s Palace Guards prowled the perimeter of the room, watching for signs of trouble. Stepping onto the platform that held the high table, my father positioned himself behind his chair to open the festivities.

  “Let the feast begin!” he proclaimed, holding high a goblet of ale.

  A shout went up from the revelers as servants began to bring platters of food to the tables.

  The feast went on for hours, stretching through several courses. My father had spared no expense, and legs of mutton and veal, chicken, venison, pork and beef weighed down the platters amid an array of breads and vegetables. Sugar wafers, oranges, apples, pears and cheeses were served as dessert. Wine and ale were consumed by the barrel.

  As the meal came to an end, the merriment began. Tumblers and acrobats worked their way up and down the aisles, while jugglers and jesters performed at the front of the room, between our table and the others, to be later replaced by singers and musicians.

  Throughout it all, Steldor played the part of the solicitous suitor, filling my wineglass, plying me with sweets, pointing out clever tricks and antics and identifying some of the men who would be the best competitors on the morrow. He did not brag or boast, something I would not have thought possible, but took pleasure in the available entertainment and in bantering with the guests. Whether due to the wine or his change in approach, I found myself enjoying the evening, and perhaps even his companionship.

  Just when it seemed one too many barrels of drink had been opened, as some participants were threatening to start the competitions in the dining hall, my father stood. Trumpets again sounded to call attention to him.

  “My good lords, depart and get some rest, for the sun shall soon rouse you, and the tournament games will begin,” he announced, indicating that the feast had come to its conclusion.

  With that, he and my mother left the hall, followed by Steldor and me, then Miranna and Temerson, with the Elite Guards last. Behind us, I could hear the riotous sounds of our departing guests.

  As soon as we were within the lesson room, Temerson bowed and took his leave. I turned to Steldor, hoping he would do the same.

  “We must also rise early, so I will bid you good-night,” I said, rather abruptly.

  “Surely you can keep me company a moment longer.” His smooth voice and dark eyes contained a touch of amusement, and for the first time since the evening had begun, I grew anxious.

  “We should not be together without a chaperone,” I argued, twining my fingers.

  “I only desire a few minutes, and your bodyguard is outside in the corridor.”

  I glanced at my sister, hoping for some assistance, but all she gave me was a reassuring smile. With a flip of her bouncy hair, she stepped out of the room, leaving me alone with Steldor. He studied me for a moment, then reached out to still my nervous hands, laughing when I jumped at his touch.

  “Are you really that terrified of being alone with me?”

  When I did not answer, he lightly continued, “It appears you have given some thought to our conversation at Baron Koranis’s estate. I’m sure you will agree that our time together is more pleasurable when you do not continually resist me.”

  I stared at him, his ability to put all blame on me for the problems between us robbing me of speech. As I struggled to formulate a response, he reached out to stroke my long, sleek hair.

  “May I kiss you good-night?” he asked, once again catching me by surprise, and I knew my face gave full notice of my jumbled feelings.

  “Just one kiss, I promise,” he teased. “I won’t expect anything more.”

  It came to me then that he thought I was reluctant to be alone with him due to my lack of experience with men. While that was part of the reason, it seemed to have escaped him that I did not like him or trust him. I decided not to correct his misconception. After all, he was at least taking a courteous approach.

  I nodded my head and he placed one hand on each side of my face in a gentle caress, his pleasing scent washing over me. His lip
s joined with mine, soft and sensual, and I felt myself relaxing into him against my will.

  “Sleep well, Princess,” he said, removing his hands and stepping away from me. “I will return to escort you to the tournament field in the morning.”

  He bowed deeply and departed, leaving me off balance, as I had not anticipated such tenderness from him, and unsettled by the knowledge that I had enjoyed both his kiss and his touch.

  “Good night, Destari,” I murmured, stepping into the corridor where he awaited me.

  As I drifted toward my quarters, the foreign notion that I had just had a pleasant time with Steldor broke over me, and I reluctantly admitted to myself that he could, in fact, be good company. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to ensure that the Steldor with whom I had just spent the evening would be the Steldor I would wed if my father had his way.

  CHAPTER 23

  THE LEGEND OF THE BLEEDING MOON

  ON THE MORNING OF OCTOBER TWENTY-NINTH, the royal family rode in two carriages to the tournament site west of the faire. The King and Queen traveled in one carriage, and Miranna and I, with our escorts, occupied the other. Our bodyguards and numerous other Elite Guards accompanied the carriages on horseback.

  The weather was sunny but cold and breezy, and fur throws had been provided for our use both as we traveled to the event and within the royal box. While the spectators would most likely feel the chill as the day wore on, such weather was well suited for the competitions, as it would exhilarate the participants and spur them on to greater feats.

  The viewing box that had been constructed for the royal family and our guests sat on top of the hill that sloped down to the military training field where the events would be held. The box was entered from the rear and had walls with large, open windows and a roof to provide shelter from the elements. The exterior was draped with royal-blue-and-gold silks, and tapestries hung on the inside provided insulation against the cold.