Authors: Joanne Bertin

Bard's Oath (71 page)

BOOK: Bard's Oath

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But she refuses to see me or to speak with me. She won’t even read my notes! My messenger told me that he saw her cast the last one he gave her unopened upon the fire.

Can you believe this, my dear old tutor, my friend? I, the heir to a rich holding, I who have women aplenty casting themselves at my feet, begging me for a dalliance—I am being scorned by the daughter of a lord with but a single manor! By the gods, who does she think she is, to spurn me so?

Word has been brought to me that she will attend Lord Sevrynel’s gathering this night. I’m going now to find her, and I will ask her one more time to marry me. If she refuses, and I find out that it’s true she betrays me by listening to that cripple’s suit, I—

I must remember to take off my belt knife. I was rather foolish the last time I saw her, I’m afraid. If she sees that I’m armed, she’ll call for the guards immediately—not that she need fear me if she’s sensible. And if she isn’t, it will be her own fault, won’t it?

Your affectionate student,

Tirael

Raven looked up. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely read the signature. “Rynna,” he whispered. “Just what is this?”

Maurynna’s hand appeared again and plucked the parchment from his nerveless fingers. “It means you saved two lives that night, Raven,” she said quietly. “Remember the dagger Tirael had hidden in his boot? He wasn’t carrying it because he was afraid of you. In his conceited view of the world, no doubt he was certain you, a mere commoner, would never dare lay a finger on him.

“It’s far worse. We’re certain Tirael was planning to kill Merrilee if she wouldn’t come away with him. If he couldn’t have her, no one would.”

“Dear gods,” Raven said. He shook his head, unable to make sense of the logic in the letter—if there was any. What made Tirael think Merrilee belonged to him? That because he wanted her, she had to want him—or suffer for it? “I can’t believe it. It’s—it’s just too fantastic.… I mean, you hear of it in stories, but it’s not real, it’s just made up.” Raven couldn’t fathom the mind that reckoned like that, especially when the intended victim was as sweet and gentle as Lady Merrilee.

How could he even say she “betrayed” him? It wasn’t as if they were married, handfasted, or even in the midst of a dalliance!
“He would have actually
killed
her?”

“Yes.”

“Gods.” Raven ran a hand through his hair, still unable to understand a mind so warped. “Wait—you said ‘two lives.’”

Maurynna said gently, “Eadain was with her in the garden that night.”

An image of Lord Eadain leaning on his crutches sprang into Raven’s mind. No, there was no way the frail lord could have fought off a man of Tirael’s strength. But for Merrilee’s sake he would have tried, and died for it.

She went on. “Eadain had just asked Merrilee to marry him—and she agreed.”

Dear gods … That it should be the crippled Eadain who won Merrilee’s hand rather than the “perfect” Tirael … Oh, yes, that would have driven the mind that could write that letter beyond any rational thought. To murder, even. And Tirael would have thought it no more than his right.

Raven shuddered at the warped reasoning. “Then if Leet hadn’t—”

He couldn’t finish; yet behind the deep reluctance to speak of what had been done to him, behind the shame of being used, there was now an unexpected sense of … relief? Comfort?

Or, even, pride? Both Lady Merrilee and Lord Eadain were people he admired, decent people, good and kindhearted. Not like that—

A sudden realization that Maurynna had slipped down from Stormwind’s back and was walking away brought him out of the tangle of his thoughts. “Where are you going, Beanpole?”

She stopped, looked over her shoulder at him, and grinned. “I need room to Change, silly—remember? I only came to show that letter to you. I thought you needed to see it.”

“I did,” Raven said softly. “Thank you. But how did you—”

“Come by it? Conor. Lord Eadain gave it to him when he heard that Conor was coming north. Eadain got it from Master Luyens, Tirael’s old tutor. It seems they were friends, too. And now I must go—oh, I almost forgot. Lord Sevrynel sent word by Conor asking if we thought you would be willing to run Stormwind in a match race at next year’s fair.”

“The fair? But I’ve been banned from—”

She shook her head, still smiling. “It’s been lifted. When that letter came to light, it explained the dagger they found in Tirael’s boot. Have no doubt of it, Raven—he went to Sevrynel’s gathering intending to kill Merrilee at least.

“When he read the letter, Sevrynel begged leave of the duke and duchess to lift the ban. He’s quite fond of both Eadain and Merrilee. If they had died at his gathering…” She shivered. “Lord and Lady Portis have also agreed. It’s as if now that Tirael’s not there to dazzle them, their eyes have finally been opened to the kind of man their son really was. Give Yarrow our love, please. Now I must go.”

With that, Maurynna spun around and ran through the field, long grass rippling like waves against her legs. As she ran, her form faded into a red mist that spread, then took the shape of a ghostly dragon.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the mist solidified and a long, slender dragon the iridescent blues and greens of a peacock’s tail leapt into the sky, her scales glittering like jewels in the bright sunlight. The great wings swept out and down, and Maurynna was aloft.

Raven tilted his head back and watched her as she spiraled up and up. When he got home he’d have to remember to tell Yarrow how incredible Maurynna looked flying against the pure blue sky.

A peal of laughter rang in his mind, and then Maurynna said,
Maybe Boreal and I should enter that match race, too. I wonder what we’ll win.

As he stood staring at her in openmouthed indignation, Maurynna rolled in the air, then flew due north. Laughter still echoed faintly in his mind.

“Of all the cheek!” Raven sputtered at her retreating form. “As if you have a chance in—”

He paused and thought for a long, long moment. Maurynna was a
much
better rider these days. Then he grinned.

This was going to be fun.

Tor Books by Joanne Bertin

The Last Dragonlord

Dragon and Phoenix

Bard’s Oath

About the Author

Joanne Bertin is the author of two previous novels,
The Last Dragonlord
and
Dragon and Phoenix
. She lives in Connecticut with her husband and young son. Learn more at
www.sffworld.com/author/44.html
.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

BARD’S OATH

Edited by James Frenkel

Cover art by Bob Eggleton

A Tor Book

Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC

175 Fifth Avenue

New York, NY 10010

www.tor-forge.com

Tor
^®is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.

ISBN 978-0-312-87370-7 (hardcover)

ISBN 9781466801158 (e-book)

First Edition: November 2012