Destiny of the Light: Shadow Through Time 1 (23 page)

K
hatrene sat in her Morning Room, a chamber Djahr had given her simply because she’d admired the view. Lae sat across the table from her working on a tapestry and Talis stood obediently at the door. Seemingly all was well, save for the litany repeating in her mind,
Something is wrong. Something is wrong.

Ominously, the voice said nothing.

‘Have you thought any more about the sort of gown you’d like,’ she asked Lae, unsure as to the etiquette of discussing wedding arrangements in front of the groom. ‘The one your father designed for me was simply beautiful. That fabric —’ Khatrene cut herself short when Lae’s eyes widened and her gaze darted away. ‘But of course, you’ll want your own design,’ she added quickly, hoping that wasn’t a social gaffe either. Talis wasn’t expected to design a gown. That was a Be’uccdha tradition. The Guardian House left the arrangements completely with the bride’s family.

So much to learn and remember. Of course, if she had her memories it wouldn’t be a problem, but despite many things looking familiar, there was still nothing of her childhood resurfacing.

‘With The Light’s permission,’ Lae said stiffly, ‘may we discuss this at a later time?’

Khatrene put a hand out towards her, ‘Of course,’ then pulled it back when the girl flinched.

The relentless premonition would not be silent,
Something is wrong. Something is wrong.

In fact, something had been wrong since the wonderful day Djahr had opened his heart to her in the Altar Caves and they’d made love — as opposed to having sex. She’d been in a state of delirium ever since, despite the fact that their nightly physical gratification sessions followed the usual pattern. Things would change, she was sure of it, and so happy had she been, baiting Djahr about his paternalistic attitudes and planning for the baby she would soon carry, she’d barely noticed Talis’s week long absence. On his return, however, a palpable disquiet intruded on her blissful idyll and she began to notice strained silences, unmet glances.

Cruel fate had obviously decreed that the moment she started experiencing some real happiness, the people around her would behave oddly in her presence. And why?

Why
? she demanded.

H
OW PETULANT YOU SOUND
, the voice replied. L
IKE A CHILD DEMANDING TO KNOW THAT IT IS LOVED
. I
S IT NOT ENOUGH THAT YOUR HUSBAND SHOWS YOU AFFECTION?

Was it? Khatrene frowned. Maybe she should be satisfied with that.

She glanced at Talis, noticed the way his gaze skidded off her, as though he’d been watching her until that moment. Then she looked back at Lae and had the same experience.

Am I paranoid?

T
HE VALUE OF SANITY IS SUBJECTIVE.

Why aren’t you helpful any more?

No reply.

‘I’m going for a walk,’ she said, and rose abruptly from the table.

Lae’s eyes remained downcast. ‘As you wish, My Lady.’

Khatrene swept past her, and even the heavy fabric of her gown irritated her legs. Her jeans were back at the Volcastle or she would have gone and put them on to negate any part of her that belonged in this world. She was through the long, lighted corridors and out into the misty sunlight before she realised Talis was behind her. Damn him too, she thought. Like her dress that tangled in her legs, he was always underfoot.

She looked around the empty stone battlement and was irritated further by the feeble shards of light emanating from her skin. Anaemic colour bled into the surrounding mists, reminding her of a colouring-in book she’d owned in Dakaroo, the type you brushed with water to reveal the colours. More often than not, now, she looked back on her time there with fondness. They’d been happy years with Michael, overshadowed, of course, by their mother’s illness. But the simple life of school and friends in a small country town had given her a freedom she knew wasn’t possible in Ennae. Not if you were a princess. And especially not The Light.

Although to balance the picture, if they’d never left Ennae, Talis or another of the Guardians would have been able to cure their mother. If they’d chosen to … Djahr had recently told her the Elder Sh’hale was suffering an illness much like her mother’s. Khatrene knew Guardians were allowed to use their healing power on the nobility. Why hadn’t Talis been called to cure him?

Or had he?

She turned slowly to look at Talis and found his attention already upon her. What if he’d refused to go because he didn’t like Kert? ‘I don’t really know you,’ she said, and realised that was true of everyone she’d met in Ennae, even Mihale. Even Djahr, she had to admit, much as she would wish it otherwise.

Talis’s hair lifted slightly in the faint breeze yet his warrior plaits remained still beside his face. His dark eyes looked straight into hers with an expression she couldn’t identify. There’d been a change in him since his return from the Plains. A barrier around him she hadn’t seen before. Was that a warrior trait? Had killing deprived him of the tenderness she knew he was capable of? Or rather, she’d thought him capable of?

‘I am Talis,’ he said.

She nodded. ‘That’s your name but what else do I know?’ She looked away. ‘Sometimes I don’t know what to believe. Who to believe.’

‘Your brother will not lie to you,’ Talis said.

She looked back at him. ‘But you will?’

His expression remained unchanged. ‘Destiny will out.’

‘Here we go with destiny again. Do you really believe in that?’ she asked, ‘That everything works out for the best?’

Talis shook his head. ‘Destiny is a pathway into history, not a child’s tale with a happy ending.’

‘Are you telling me I’m going to be unhappy?’

His intense gaze never wavered. ‘I do not know.’

‘Do you want me to be unhappy?’

‘No,’ he said quickly, and Khatrene found she believed him.

Then she looked at Talis a long, hard moment. ‘You’re not happy,’ she said, and was stunned that she hadn’t noticed before. It was glaring at her as though he had the words written on his forehead.

He was slow to reply. ‘My destiny lies on a path that requires patience and fortitude,’ he said. ‘I fear happiness does not also lie along that path.’

‘But you have Lae —’ Khatrene stopped the moment she saw the look in his eyes. ‘You don’t want to marry her, do you?’

Talis simply continued to look at her and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it before. The memories of their conversations flitted through her mind and she snagged one. ‘But you told me you were in love. On the way to the Volcastle. We were talking about Lae —’

‘Your discourse is animated,’ Djahr said, appearing out of the mist at their side. Khatrene jumped in fright and Djahr held out a hand to steady her even as he cast a slow glance at Talis. ‘Although I must say, you choose an odd setting for it.’

It took Khatrene a moment to gather her wits. Then another, wondering how much of their conversation Djahr had overheard.

‘The Light is often found on the battlements, My Lord,’ Talis replied evenly. ‘And I with her, admiring the view.’

Djahr looked around himself into the blanket of mist. Behind them the castle itself could barely be discerned. ‘Which view is this?’ he asked, and looked back to Khatrene. ‘Beloved?’

Khatrene had been about to bail Talis out when she registered that endearment.
Beloved.
Djahr had never called her that before. Not even in the Altar Caves when they’d —

‘I have a surprise for you,’ he said, and put out his hand. She took it, unable in that moment to remember what she and Talis had been discussing. Knowing it couldn’t be as important as Djahr calling her his beloved. Was this the beginning of the marriage she had dreamt of?

‘I take The Light from your care,’ he told Talis. ‘Be at leisure until she requires you again.’ Then he floated her away through the mist, and as always when he looked at her that way, the rest of the world ceased to exist. Once inside the castle they walked through the Be’uccdha banquet hall with its austere display of weaponry on the walls. Then to the inner corridors where the only lighting was squat wall-mounted candles whose flames swayed with the breeze of their passing.

‘I like surprises,’ Khatrene said and squeezed his hand.

‘I know,’ Djahr replied, and Khatrene felt warmed by the satisfaction that seemed to sit newly on his features.

For a time they wandered on a level through corridors she’d not explored before. Then he turned her up a set of winding stairs and they climbed for several minutes before she pulled him to a halt. ‘Let me catch my breath.’

His answering smile was full of tenderness and Khatrene felt her happiness grow. Yet at the same time as she was feeling excited to be with him and wondering if this would be a repeat of their Altar Caves experience, something of their gloomy surroundings pervaded her thoughts. She tried to shake it off but couldn’t, and found herself noticing the way his eyes had narrowed marginally, and his deliciously full lips had formed a set smile.

‘Shall we continue?’ he said at last.

‘Of course. I’m sorry.’ She started up the stairs again, her unsettling thoughts creeping into her bones, making her feel cold. Lonely. ‘It’s a long way up, this surprise,’ she said, and clutched his hand more tightly.

‘I know your penchant for ocean viewing,’ he replied and Khatrene felt some of her tension ease. Of course. He wanted to share some scenic panorama with her.

The stairs ended at a doorway and Djahr pushed the heavy door open. It creaked, and Khatrene stepped past it into a square room lit by bright sunlight pouring in the many windows which lined it. Immediately her aura burst forth and behind her Djahr made a sound of contentment.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, and stepped around a conveniently placed bed to reach one of the windows, the better to admire her gift before stepping back towards other pleasures. Unfortunately her directional sense had been confused by the long, winding ascent and she couldn’t be sure if she was looking down onto the edge of the Plains or the Ocean. Mist spread out below her like a carpet of cotton wool as far as the eye could see.

If only it had been a clear day. Still, Khatrene wasn’t going to say that. ‘Simply beautiful,’ she said, turning back to Djahr. At which moment, her smile of happiness and words of thanks died on her lips.

Beside her husband there now stood a dark-haired woman. A beautiful, voluptuous dark-haired woman. Her hand lay on his arm.

‘Who is this?’ Khatrene asked. But somehow she knew. Even before he answered she could feel her future collapsing like an ill-constructed house of cards.

‘This is my companion,’ Djahr said.

‘Your … companion.’

The woman walked towards Khatrene, no expression on her face. She stepped behind her and for a moment Khatrene felt the warmth on her wrists and ankles that preceded their sexual encounters each night. She started, then stood completely still, immobilised by fear and shock.

‘We are acquainted, are we not, Khatrene?
’ the woman said in a strange disembodied voice, and her scent and the heat of her body were as familiar to Khatrene as her husband’s bed. For a moment she thought she might be sick.

The woman stepped in front of her and laid her hand on Khatrene’s belly. ‘
She is with child
.’ Then moved away to stand again at Djahr’s side. ‘
We must protect her from harm
.’

Khatrene took a step backwards and hit the wall. She pressed herself against it, staring at Djahr.

‘This room is yours, Khatrene,’ he said, his gaze drifting to the windowpanes on which her aura sparkled, before returning to her face. ‘I will miss you in my bed, but the child of The Light is more important than pleasures of the flesh.’

‘You …’ Khatrene could barely speak. ‘You want me to sleep here?’

‘You will live in this room until the child is born.’

‘You can’t …’ Her mind wasn’t working. The shock was too great. ‘You can’t do this to me.’

‘Come, My Lord,’
the woman touched his arm again, caressingly this time.
‘The afternoon moves towards night.’

‘But you’re … my husband,’ she said. Pathetic though it was, Khatrene had thought that meant something.

‘I am the father of The Light’s child,’ he corrected, and suddenly Khatrene felt as though she was looking at a different person. His physical appearance remained the same, but the history between them was irrevocably altered.

‘You just … you …’ Khatrene couldn’t get the words out. ‘You only want the child?’

Djahr smiled at her then, and she wondered how she had ever thought love lived in him — how she’d ever imagined she’d seen warmth in those cold, cold eyes. ‘Lae’s mother was uncooperative,’ he said. ‘She died in childbirth.’

The warning bludgeoned any resistance Khatrene might have rallied. She nodded to show she understood.

Djahr took the woman’s arm and they stepped out of the room. A moment later a key turned in the lock. Footsteps echoed and then there was silence, long minutes of silence before the voice spoke.

T
HE
P
RINCESS
K
HATRENE WILL NOT DIE
, the voice said, repeating the assurance he had given her on the Plains.

Khatrene could only stare at the door.
What about The Light?

B
eneath the shimmering tablecloth, one of Talis’s hands balled into a fist. His other raised a goblet to his lips. Lae, subdued at his side, did likewise. Talis drank of the Be’uccdha wine, too much and too fast, then spoke, his words as flat as his anger was sharp. ‘The King will rejoice in this blessing,’ he said. ‘He will have the news by now if The Light’s maid has reached the Volcastle.’

Djahr nodded at this. ‘Tis a week since The Light bore me these glad tidings and time has not faded their importance.’ He raised his own goblet in a toast. ‘To the continued health of The Light, and my son who grows within her.’

Talis and Lae drank in obedience but there was no joy in them. For his own part, Talis knew only that grief and anger were his constant companions. The reason for Lae’s disquiet was unknown to him yet he suspected nothing other than her continuing jealousy of her father’s new wife. ‘Would you have me use my Guardian powers to assure you of The Light’s health, My Lord,’ he asked, with as little care as he could invest in the words.

‘I have made this suggestion,’ Djahr replied. ‘Yet The Light has chosen to withdraw from company, the better to protect her precious burden from accidental harm, as well as that of ill intent.’

Talis nodded at this for it had a sound of truth about it. Plainsman attacks had recommenced and Mooraz was more often away than at home.

‘She wants only my presence,’ Djahr said, and smiled as though in fond memory.

Talis felt his fingers clench more tightly.

‘Her happiness is my own,’ Djahr added. ‘I can deny her nothing,’ and for this Talis had no reply, so while Lae and her father luncheoned, he drank.

The meal was completed in silence and The Dark withdrew to his chambers where his wife waited, leaving Talis alone with Lae at the quiet table. Lae made no effort at conversation and rather than speak to the woman he would soon take as wife, Talis tortured himself with a vision of The Dark’s return to his chambers. Would Khatrene fall eagerly into her husband’s arms? The memory of their joining in the Altar Caves haunted Talis until he felt sick, and now he had none of her companionship to himself. No opportunity to gaze upon her loveliness, to argue with her quick mind, to bask in the simple affection she felt for him.

Had
felt for him.

Despite The Dark’s claims, Talis knew this sudden seclusion was not designed to protect her babe from harm. The Light was made of stronger fibre than that. He could only construe that he had been excluded from her presence because he had offended her greatly, and the reason could be no other than his loveless marriage to Lae. The Light had seen dishonour in the act, and with no opportunity to explain his motives or justify his choices, Talis now found himself excluded from her life.

‘You have taken a measure of wine,’ Lae said, no accusation in her voice. A simple statement of fact. They were silent a moment, then she asked, ‘What has my father done to anger you?’

Married my love.
Talis wanted to say.
Fathered her child.
Instead he said, ‘Your father holds authority over you. I must take that from him before I may be your husband. He will not willingly give it to me.’

Lae’s frown disappeared and she took his hand. ‘Would you take me from him? I would willingly go with you. I see my father only rarely now, and even then he is distracted by thoughts of
her.
’ This last word was all but spat onto the table.

Talis felt a moment’s peace at the thought of leaving Be’uccdha. Still, he could not abandon The Light, even if she would not have him near.

‘Come.’ He rose to escort Lae to her chambers and then thought to take some time alone. ‘Until we are wed you must do as your father commands,’ he told her. ‘On the other side of marriage we may choose as duty allows us.’

They walked in silence, Talis too wrapped in misery and wine to notice Lae’s uncharacteristic silence.

At the door to her chambers, she said, ‘Will you join me here? You have said no duty calls you.’ Before he could reply, she hurried on, ‘We could play a board of sagea. Though it is my least favourite game, I know it is your best.’ Her attempted smile could bring no answer from Talis. ‘And it does so please you to beat me at something,’ she added, from a continuing jest between them to pretend that her losses were a gesture of graciousness on her part, rather than the result of impetuous playing.

Talis shook his head and her half-formed smile faded. ‘I fear I am not a good companion today,’ he said. ‘I might take some air.’

‘On the outer battlements where your Lady would be, if she were not with child?’

‘Just so,’ Talis replied, ignoring Lae’s bitter tone. ‘The wind is dagger-sharp. It cleanses the mind, and I fear I have muddied mine with drink.’

‘So be it,’ Lae said, and retired to her rooms, slamming the chamber door behind her.

Yet once he was alone Talis felt strangely lost, as though everything he held dear was locked away from him and his own company was a burden. The battlements called, and indeed he had wanted to breathe fresh air. So his footfalls carried him there, despite the unsettled feeling inside him.

Alas, the crispness of morning had blurred to afternoon mist yet had Khatrene been at his side, she would have found pleasure in the sound, if not the view. The rhythm of the waves was, to her, like the blood of his world, she had said. He took comfort in that thought now, imagining her by his side, the muted glow of her magical light spreading outward into the thickening mists.

The need to be closer to her overwhelmed him and he leant recklessly far over the coarse stone wall, to hear the waves more clearly. Yet instead, Talis heard a sound on the wind, coming from the furthest corner of the castle where The Dark’s Hightower stood. Wailing? A song? He leant further forward and turned his head at an unnatural angle to look, and as he did so the sound was quickly followed by his own sharply indrawn breath.

Mist thickened to obscure his vision, but in the instant before it had, The Light’s magical aura had been clearly visible on top of the Hightower.

Far from where her husband had said she would be.