Darkstone - An Evil Reborn (Book 4) (17 page)

“What brings you to Hustafal, your highness?” Vestya said.

“Both of you can call me Vishan. I’m not much for formality. I finished a stint in the army not long ago.” Vish noticed a stiffening in Fateem’s posture. “My father sent me here.” He gave the women a tiny shrug. “I don’t know why.”

“I know why,” Fateem said. “You are betrothed to Vestya and you tell me you really didn’t know?”

Vishan’s face burned. Betrothed? He couldn’t reply since his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. His father could have warned him in some manner. The move didn’t make any sense until it dawned on him that one way to fend off Fenakyr would be to make Vishan a son-in-law, and his daughter a possible Empress. His father’s game-playing never ceased to amaze him. “I’ll let you read the message my father sent. The instructions only told me to travel to Hustafal.”

Did Vishan hear a faint chuckle behind him? If Gornytar thought it amusing that made him much more appealing than he might have thought. But then, what if the valet had laughed at him? He’d have to figure that out later.

“So, perhaps we really should learn to signal to each other,” Vestya said. “I imagine we shall need to get to know one another better.”

Vish didn’t know what to say. Now he had to make sure he had sufficient rope to let him escape the castle. Perhaps Fenakyr now might rather have him under lock and key so he couldn’t get away. These people knew more than he did and Vish couldn’t let that continue.

“Is a wedding day set?” Vish said. “I’m obviously the last to know. I’d like to have some small say on something anyway.”

Fateem glared at Vishan. “You really don’t know, do you?”

Vish shook his head.

“Fateem has counted on her son marrying me ever since we were small. Your arrival has put an end to her dreams.”

Vishan was surprise that Vestya would reveal such a personal matter at dinner, but then he had no idea what the family dynamics were. He’d have to have a long talk with Gornytar, if the man would be willing to reveal anything of use to him. Vish had never felt more detached from control in his life. How could he make proper preparations for disaster, if he didn’t even know what kind of disaster might befall him?

“I am sorry to have spoiled your plans,” Vish bowed his head towards the housekeeper.

Two servants laid the first course at each place. Vish looked down at tiny bird legs sitting in a green, chunky sauce. He’d never seen such a preparation before. The foreign food only made him more ill at ease.

“They aren’t spoiled yet,” Fateem said.

Vish took a few bites, contemplating the woman’s words. He decided he would have to treat the woman like an obstinate horse. “I am the Emperor’s son. I have been through a great deal, including personal attacks. I am not going to permit you to treat me with such ill humor. If you can’t generate an acceptable attitude, I’ll make sure you have no way to speak in a civil tongue, or any tongue at all, for that matter.”

He looked at Fateem and then at Vestya, who seemed to be smiling behind a napkin. Vish didn’t mean what he said, but the woman irritated him to no end.

Fateem colored. “I am sorry if I offended you, Prince Vishan. It won’t happen again.”

Vishan doubted that, but he wouldn’t let her get off with only an apology. “If your son is important to you, perhaps he might like to spend a few years at the Peshakan Military Outpost and fight the Cuminee like I did. Do I make myself clear?”

The woman’s face turned white. She wiped a bit of sauce from her upper lip. “If you will excuse me?”

Vishan nodded as the woman rose and left. “Gornytar, are you still behind me?”

“I am, Prince.”

“Good, you have just been promoted to chaperone.”

“As you wish, your Highness.”

Vishan looked across at a grinning Vestya. “You know this sauce is quite good with whatever this little bird is.”

Vestya laughed. “It’s not a bird. It’s a local lizard.”

Suddenly, Vish had an urge to cough, but he kept it to a single hack. “Lizard. I’ve never had the opportunity to eat one before. It tastes like a bird.”

“So they say,” Vestya said, looking off at a painting on the wall.

Vish then noticed that neither Vestya nor Fateem had been served the same dish. He ate the lizard legs anyway to Vestya’s amusement.

“Are the rest of the courses as unique as this one?” Vishan said as he finished the plate. He actually didn’t mind the taste at all.

Vestya looked behind Vishan at Gornytar. “Our guest can have Fateem’s portion. We are ready for our next course.”

“Yes, my lady.” Gornytar said. Vishan turned around to see a smirking Gornytar leave the room.

“So you permitted Fateem to have her fun?”

Vestya smiled. Vishan liked her full lips and white teeth. She had a duskier complexion than her father and long black hair piled on her head. “I did. You are an enigma to our family.”

“Why am I an enigma?” Vishan asked. Was he here to survive? Was the betrothal real? Vishan had seen no proof of other than what these two women had told him. The lizard legs didn’t help their credibility.             

“Father doesn’t know what to make of you. You seem to be able to survive... things.”

“I try to be prepared. If I learn something new, I remember it and apply it if I can. I’ve made sure that survivability is infused into how I think.”

“So what emergency preparations have you made for your stay in our castle?”

Vishan smiled. “Why would I tell you? With due respect, one of the keys of such thinking is to keep your plans to yourself.”

“You won’t share them with your future wife?”

“How do I know the ‘betrothal’ is genuine?” Vishan said.

Vestya laughed. “Oh, that. I will show you the official document, which my father left here. I don’t think he believed it either, but I promise, your father’s seal is quite genuine. I’ll show you after dinner.”

Vishan’s breath seemed to have left him. He had hoped she was incorrect. He had his father’s note in his jacket so at the very least he could check the seal.

The next course consisted of what appeared to be beef stew. Vishan looked over at Vestya’s plate. Everything looked exactly the same. Maybe the cook spit in his serving or perhaps Fateem did in the kitchen. He tasted the broth and it tasted normal to him. Beef wasn’t popular in the Imperial Capital. Another slight? But then Vishan remembered the cows in the feeding lots. Hustafal certainly had a different culture.

Vestya dug into her stew. “I am sorry about Fateem. I tried to tell her that you had nothing to do with the betrothal, but her heart was set on Bashelyr as my husband.” She leaned over and put her hand below her neck. “I did not. We played together as children, but we didn’t grow closer together as we got older. Quite the opposite, actually, he would rather go off on his own to live in some other locale.”

Is that what Vish would like to do? Settle far away, not from his somewhat indifferent mother, but from his unpredictable father. He nodded his head as the thought came and went. He knew that he wouldn’t want to have been Fateem’s son. But that wasn’t fair. She would not treat her son as he had been treated.

“What do you wish?” Vishan asked.

“I wish you’d ask me that after we get to know each other better. I’m not willing to tell you my innermost secrets so soon in our relationship.”

Vish liked her answer. No batting her eyelashes or indirection... just a plain answer that he respected. “Then, what is it you’d like to know about me? I, too, have some areas off bounds, but I’m willing to provide you with what information I can. When are we to wed? Is that mentioned in the offer letter?”

Servants cleared the stew. Vish was surprised he had finished it.

“Shall we move directly to dessert? The kitchen would like that since they eat the leftovers.”

Vishan smiled at the consideration of the servants. “Why not?” His curiosity had grown. Perhaps the letter might reveal something else to him, if it was genuine, that is.

Dessert consisted of something familiar, iced fruit and light sugared wafers. He’d had much the same kind of thing at home. Vestya devoured hers while Vishan didn’t care as much for the too-sweet fruit and ate enough to be polite.

“Come with me,” she said as she showed them back into the sitting room. “I’ll be right back. You can peruse the Baron’s library.”

Vish took her up on the offer and looked through the full shelves that were in the sitting room. He came to a section on the theory of Affinity and the use of power. These were sorcerer’s books. He had the same volumes in his own library in his palace quarters. He picked out a well-worn volume, that he didn’t have, on the origin of the Warstones. It seemed ancient. He didn’t have anything similar.

“Found something interesting?” Vestya said walking up behind him.

“Who is the sorcerer?” Vishan asked waving the Warstone book at Vestya.

“Sorceress. Me,” she said. She presented him with the betrothal document and sat down on a chair next to a table near the window.

Vishan looked up and could see the windows to his own rooms. He took the chair on the other side and pulled out his instructions.

“These are my orders,” Vish said as he pulled out his document. He perused the betrothal letter.

Neeran Fenakyr, Baron of Hustafal,

For the good of the Empire, Vishan Daryaku, Prince of the Empire shall be betrothed to Vestya Fenakyr, your daughter. The wedding is to take place no later than six months from the date of this letter in Hustafal. Notice of the nuptials are to be delivered to Emperor Shalil Daryaku and to Princess Yalla, the eleventh wife of the Emperor no later than five weeks prior to the ceremony so that each might have sufficient time to attend, should they so desire.

In consideration of this much-anticipated event, one hundred thousand gold dreks shall be delivered to Baron Hustafal no later than two months after the ceremony.

Sealed into a decree, the seventeenth day of the fourth month of the 365th year of the Daryakan dynasty,

(The Imperial Seal)

Well, that certainly looked like something his father would produce. His consideration of his mother’s wish to see her now-only son wed gave the decree some credence. His examination of the dates gave him about four months before Fenakyr would become his father-in-law. One hundred thousand gold dreks paid for his marriage? Didn’t the bride usually pay a dowry? He didn’t understand his father’s need to keep him in the dark.  Why not tell him he had arranged a marriage before he left? Vish suddenly grew very tired of his father’s games.

Vishan thought back to the feedlots on the way to Hustafal and felt empathy with the beasts, like an animal being led to the slaughter. Vestya looked comely enough, but she still had to be her father’s child. Did Fenakyr still want to kill him, despite the forced betrothal? The marriage had brought him to his enemy’s den and unwanted confusion filled his mind.

He looked over the seal to his orders and the decree and he couldn’t tell any difference. He looked well and truly betrothed. He tossed both documents across the table to Vestya.

Vishan took a much more critical look at his bride to be. She certainly was comely enough with intelligent and lively eyes. She didn’t appear to have any physical abnormalities and he still liked her smile. He liked her long neck and, so far, her demeanor. He thought she would appeal to him regardless of the circumstances. Other than the fact, of course, that Vishan had no say in the matter.

“It looks genuine to me,” Vestya said, shrugging, “but then I didn’t doubt it when the Baron showed it to me.”

“How did he take it?”

“A way to get rid of his daughter and be paid for it? Rather well, I would imagine. He doesn’t talk to me much.”  She brightened as a thought, obviously came into her head. “Do you know how Affinity works? Use too much without knowing how to shield the power and you end up absorbing power from others around you as well as the nexus. It can make people sick. Children don’t develop enough power to do so, but my mother died six years ago, when I was fifteen about the time we learned I had Affinity. When the Baron found out, he purchased a book on sorcery and threw it in my lap one night demanding me to learn how to shield my power. I think that’s why he spends so much time in Baku.” Vestya stopped talking. It looked like she waited for a reaction.

“Who runs this castle in his absence?” Peleor taught him how to shield his magic long ago. Vish wasn’t that interested in the subject.

“Fateem takes care of the castle. The Hustafal Council has run the barony’s administrative matters for years, since the Baron spends most of his time in Baku. He has caretakers at his various estates and farms.”

“And you?”

Vestya laughed. “I sit around all day trying to figure out how to leave. It appears that you, my prince, may be my salvation.”

“Only if you teach me how to shield you from my power.” Vishan tried to be a bit playful.

Vestya’s eyes grew wide. “No one told me you had power. I told you about my mother to scare you.”