Destiny of the Light: Shadow Through Time 1 (9 page)

T
HE DAUGHTER OF
T
HE DARK IS FOUND
. S
AFE.

Khatrene tensed.
Talis?

N
ONE ARE HARMED
.

Her shoulders relaxed.

Good.

They would return for her as soon as they could. Talis’s last glance assured her of that. He’d been just as uncomfortable about their separation as she had been and it reassured her to know that he took his job seriously. An image of Talis’s worried frown formed within her mind, the dark eyebrows drawn together over steady brown eyes. She smiled. After years of worrying about her mother, it was nice to have someone worrying about her.

But before she could fix Talis in her mind, his face was replaced by that of the tattooed man. Khatrene felt her breath catch. The image was so clear, so … real. And the vision’s background, of a luxuriously appointed room, all furnished in brown, whose window looked out onto a brown ocean was unquestioningly Ennean. Yet rather than dwell on the intricacy of the tapestries, Khatrene’s attention lingered on the tattooed man’s features, his proud nose, seductive eyes and eminently kissable lips, hugging the thrill his glance aroused in her.

The smell of the cave, a cross between over-brewed coffee and burnt leaves, became stronger, the air crisper, as though the mere thought of him brought all her senses alive. Was he part of her past? The memories she’d lost?

Is he here in Ennae?
she asked the voice.
Is he married already?

Silence greeted this question and Khatrene felt her excitement build. There was no way she was being married off like a prize sow before she found out who the tattooed man was. If there was even the slightest chance that he felt the same way about her that she felt about him, marriage might well be on the cards. But on her terms. Though she loved Mihale enough to die for him, her brother would have a fight on his hands if he thought he could stage-manage her life for her.

With that determined thought in mind, she settled herself to wait.

‘I
told you, no one kidnapped me,’ Lae said, stepping away from the stupid boy, Pagan, to be closer to her betrothed whose gentle hand on her cheek and words of concern had swept away the loneliness of her vigil. ‘I came here to speak to my mother’s memory.’ The lie came easily as she gestured to the small stone tomb where they’d found her kneeling. The ash she had quickly smeared on her cheeks and her arms gave her the look of a penitent which added credence to her hastily constructed deception.

‘You came of your own free will?’ Talis asked.

‘To seek my mother’s counsel before I suffered the tattoo of Be’uccdha upon me.’ Lae knew these words would tell her betrothed she was now a woman to be his wife. It was a sacred moment to Lae and she wished she could be alone with Talis for it, yet there was a tightness to the way the heavy stone walls deadened the sound of guardsmen’s footsteps and the crackling of their brands. ‘None have touched me,’ she said softly, ‘Or —’

‘I do not wonder why,’ Pagan said from behind.

‘Or harmed me,’ she finished, setting her teeth. Tired of sleeping on a stone floor and with no food left in her satchel, there was precious little humour in Lae to appreciate the jesting of a dolt apprentice. Especially when that jesting spoilt her special moment. Still, there would be many more special moments in their courtship, which could now begin in earnest. Though she had been betrothed to Talis these last six months, in that time he had been only her friend. With the coming of her womanhood, he would look to be her lover and though they could not join until their vows were taken, Lae knew there would be kissing. That, and more.

The fears which had seen her flee her father’s castle were but a dim memory now, and she had convinced herself that a flaw in her new-found ability to see auras — to discern good and evil in people as her father could — had been the cause of her upset. The swirling eddies of evil she had witnessed in her father’s aura could have been no more than a trick of the fading light. For who knew better than The Dark’s own daughter how he had sacrificed his personal life for the betterment of Ennae? Renouncing the marriage bed on the death of his wife had caused him much deprivation, as it would to any man in his prime, yet her father had done so willingly and Ennae had not been visited by the blackness for many, many years.

Gazing at her betrothed, Lae felt relief that celibacy was not to be her lot as she followed in her father’s footsteps as The Dark of Ennae. She looked forward to her marriage to Talis, and before that, to returning to her castle and the comfort of her maids, though she would likely find the tattooing ceremony to be painful and tiring.

As would be the journey back to Be’uccdha in the odious company of Pagan, if that was her fate. She would rather have her father’s boring Guard Captain Mooraz than the endless jibes of the stupid boy she would soon have the misfortune to call her kin.

‘You have seen no Raiders?’ Talis asked her.

She pulled a face at Pagan and then turned back to her betrothed, gentling her expression to match his own. ‘I travelled swiftly by day and none saw me,’ she replied. ‘I was as safe as though I’d remained in my father’s Altar caves.’ That was thanks to the good offices of her friend Hush who had guided her safely through secret Cliffdweller tunnels and accompanied her across the Plains, insisting that Lae take the remaining food to see her through the Elder Stand and on to her mother’s crypt. For in truth, Hush could go days without food and would make the return journey in half their outward time, her graceful nub-feet and slender limbs adding speed to her Cliffdweller agility.

Lae had arrived at the crypt, and spent enough time there to realise the foolishness of her impetuous departure. Her powers of discernment had frightened her, showing an evil aura around her father, and like a child she had fled his presence. Tied in with this mad flight had been fear of the responsibility which would one day be hers. Her father’s death, many years in the future, would place the title of The Dark into her hands and though Lae had known this from an early age, she was only now coming to understand its full implications.

Since the onset of her womanhood, which marked the beginning of her discernment, she had found wild fluctuations in her abilities to see the auras around her. Some, like Mooraz, her betrothed, and even his stupid cousin, had auras which radiated the goodness in their hearts, yet Hush had an aura which appeared to change when Lae approached her and this made no sense. If she could not learn to control her powers, how could she fulfil her destiny as The Dark?

Running away had been pointless and only served to embarrass her now that she was found. There was no-where on Ennae to hide from her responsibilities, and by trying to do so she had foolishly endangered her friend. If her father discovered that Hush had helped her escape he might punish her, or worse.

‘How did you to find me here?’ she asked with as little interest as she could invest in the words. ‘Did my father send —’

It was Laroque who replied. ‘The King’s Chief Counsel saw you here in a vision, My Lady, so the King sent us to your side. Your father’s guard comes close on our heels to return you to his care.’

Be’uccdha Guard, and Mooraz among them. Lae felt her anxiety grow. Had Mooraz held his silence on her friendship with Hush? Or had he told her father?

Yet before she could speak on the matter, Talis said, ‘There are Raiders hereabout. I feel them near.’ His troubled expression was new to Lae’s experience and the heavy silence which followed his words conjured visions of danger lurking beyond their torches’ glow in the shadows of the crypt. Lae felt the prickling of their unease yet she did not understand it. She was free and unharmed in their company. What did it matter that Raiders might be near? They would protect her now.

‘Do not fear that any man would steal Lae of Be’uccdha,’ Pagan said, giving her a glance of contempt, ‘lest he desires punishment for his sins. For who better to make his life a misery —’

Lae opened her mouth but Talis was quicker.

‘Do not insult my betrothed, Cous,’ he said, yet though his voice was present, Talis’s mind was clearly on the peril his restless eyes sought out, ‘or you will have me to deal with.’

Lae touched his arm. ‘Do not trouble yourself,’ she said. ‘Pagan may have the muscles of a man, but in a battle of wits, I am twice the warrior.’

Laroque laughed softly at this and earned a glare from his son.

‘Is that how you evaded capture,’ Pagan asked, gesturing at the empty crypt. ‘Did you drive away your enemies with the sharp point of your tongue?’

Talis put up a hand to stop their battle then spoke to Lae, his voice full of the gentleness that was his way with her. ‘I must leave you in the care of my kin.’ He turned then to Laroque. ‘Uncle, I must return to my charge.’

‘Go,’ Laroque said. ‘We will take your betrothed to her father’s guard.’

Talis touched Lae’s hand in reassurance and then hurried away, his flickering torch disappearing up the long stairs which had led them underground to the crypt of her mother’s family.

Lae watched him leave, then ignoring the stupid boy, she turned to his father. ‘Is the King here?’

Laroque shook his head, lowered his voice. ‘Talis’s mission concerns the King’s lifeday celebration, My Lady. A matter of secrecy. We must not speak of it.’

Pagan snorted at this but Lae did not glance at him. Her father had spoken to her of festive arrangements, for which this was clearly a part. Yet who was her beloved’s charge and why should Laroque have a look of concern or … distrust in his eyes?

‘Is there danger in his journey?’ she asked, worried now that she would lose Talis before they had enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh. For in truth, she was eager for the experience and there was no other in the Kingdom she trusted enough to give herself to. ‘The Volcastle is only a few days’ march from here. What —’

As her betrothed had done, Laroque now touched her hand in reassurance. ‘He is in no danger, My Lady. Please,’ he released her, ‘I must gather my men and retreat from the crypt. He turned to his son. ‘Keep watch over the daughter of The Dark and escort her in safety.’

Laroque left them then and Lae turned to the boy, thoughts of her betrothed and his mission fleeing her mind. ‘Oh lucky woman I am to have such a Champion,’ she said with a mock sigh.

Pagan snorted. ‘Woman? You?’ He pointed to her chest. ‘I’ve seen squalling babes with bigger breasts than —’

‘This from the
man
who fell to snoring in the arms of a kitchen maid not one month past.’

Pagan’s eyes narrowed and Lae wanted to hug herself for joy. She was no archer but this arrow had found its mark.

‘Rumour,’ he said, his words wary. ‘If I did sleep it was from love’s exertions that I lost my strength.’

Lae nodded. ‘Love of ale, most like.’

‘And what would you know, virgin? You —’

‘I would rather be a virgin than lie with the likes of you.’ She looked him up and down. ‘I do not know what you pay the kitchen maids but it must cost you —’

‘Your tongue cuts as well as my sword.’ He patted its sheath. ‘Do you sharpen it each daybreak, or are those thin lips of yours a honing tool?’

Thin lips? Pagan’s insult stung but Lae glared at him steadily. ‘Only a young and pretty boy would think a woman’s value lies on her surface. When you are a man —’

‘I will still think you a scrawny shrew.’

Lae used the only weapon she had in that quarter. ‘Your cousin sees what you do not.’

‘Your father’s purse?’

Lae smiled. ‘Talis does not care for property, as you well know. He has chosen me to be his wife above all the daughters of the noble Houses. What does that tell you, boy?’

‘That my cousin has grown old and addled.’

Lae laughed, shook her head. ‘You clutch at the edges of the quilt of truth, yet it covers me.’

‘I would that something did.’ Pagan feigned disgust with the sight of her and turned away just as his father approached.

‘See that you follow closely,’ Laroque told him. ‘My Lady,’ he bowed to Lae and strode away again, his torch held high.

Pagan stared at Lae, his mind obviously struggling to find a fresh insult. Her smile grew, and in irritation he turned to snatch up the brand he had propped against one of the stone tombs, only to pull back with a shout of pain. The torch fell from his burned hand, guttered and went out, plunging the crypt into darkness.

‘Well done, oh sure and nimble warrior,’ she said, unafraid of the sudden night, for she had spent many days in this crypt and knew its boundaries by touch. ‘Do you display this dexterity when you unlace a woman’s bodice?’

Pagan snarled, a sound caught up with the scrabble of his hands across the floor. ‘Do not think this darkness will hide your scrawny neck from my hands if …’

His voice faded in Lae’s ears as she ascended the stairs, padding swiftly up towards the disappearing torchlight ahead. Would Pagan continue to talk to her, his fury growing when she did not answer him?

Then there was the happy vision of Laroque’s anger; his warrior son, lost not only to the darkness but his charge as well, left to find her own way to safety. Lae hugged herself with glee and hurried her footsteps, composing in her mind the sorry tale she would tell the boy’s father.

K
hatrene was in hiding again, her back against a large sentinel stone. Behind her was a clearing they’d reached two hours’ march from the Shrine through Stonypike Plateau, a collection of rock monoliths which appeared to be natural but looked more like the contents of a giant’s pencil-case stabbed into a dusty floor.

Talis stood beside her, his eyes dissecting every shadow. The two of them had trailed Laroque’s party from the Shrine and now waited out of sight for men of The Dark’s guard to arrive and collect Lae. Khatrene had wanted to meet Talis’s betrothed but his ‘no’ had the ring of finality about it, and she knew her curiosity could wait.

Which was exactly what she did now. Wait. To keep herself entertained, she counted the jungle of uneven columns and spikes around them, but her tally was low as the stones lay shrouded in mist and there were only so many in visual range. The rest blurred into a sepia background where a hundred men could be hiding. Thick cloud cover deepened the shadows, adding another dimension of eeriness.

‘This place gives me the creeps,’ she whispered, and turned to peer around the rock at the clearing beyond, feeling reassured by the sight of Laroque’s guard. Laroque himself was off to one side. With him was Pagan. There was no sign of Lae, whom Khatrene had at least hoped to see from a distance.

‘For the first time since I’ve met Pagan,’ she whispered to Talis, ‘I actually feel sorry for him.’ Laroque was really giving the boy a tongue-lashing.

‘He deserves worse,’ Talis replied, turning to follow her gaze.

‘Ouch. No mercy,’ she said softly.

‘The White Princess has a generous heart indeed…’ a voice came from behind them, startling them both. ‘… if she would offer mercy to that dolt.’

Khatrene turned more slowly than Talis. She was smiling as she said, ‘That’s the second time I’ve been accused of having a generous heart. You must be Lae.’

Lae’s answering smile dissolved into confusion. ‘My Lady, the Queen,’ she dipped into an awkward curtsy, ‘I had thought… the White Princess, your daughter —’

Here we go again, Khatrene thought. ‘I am Khatrene.’

Talis kept his voice low. ‘The Princess has … changed and does not remember her childhood here. Neither does she remember you, as you would have been told at the proper time, had you waited to he introduced.’

There was a moment of stillness and Khatrene found herself holding her breath.

Lae raised her dark eyes, gave Talis a glance that could be interpreted any number of ways and then tilted her head to look at Khatrene sideways. ‘Is it you, Khatter?’ She gazed intently, as though trying to see inside Khatrene’s face, then her inspection moved, as though tracing Khatrene’s outline. The combination of those liquid eyes, dark skin and the narrow inquisitive face was so reminiscent of the sugar-gliders which had frequented her mango tree, it was difficult for Khatrene to keep a straight face.

‘Have I not said —’

Khatrene touched her Champion’s arm. ‘It’s okay,’ then to Lae, ‘I don’t remember being the White Princess. I take it we were friends.’

‘Companions,’ Lae said with what appeared to be an exaggerated amount of deference, yet Khatrene felt they were strangers. She hated not having her memories. It made it so hard to believe. Lae’s gaze drifted to the opened front of Khatrene’s cloak where her ‘inappropriate’ jeans and T-shirt were clearly visible. She raised a dark eyebrow.

Khatrene decided to return the girl’s scrutiny. Lae’s barely pubescent body was a big surprise. Talis had said she was thirteen, the same age the White Twins were supposed to be, but thinking of Lae as Talis’s betrothed had led Khatrene to imagine her older.

Still, the potential Talis had seen was obvious. When Lae’s kittenish appeal matured, she’d be an extremely desirable woman.

‘You were to stay in the encampment,’ Talis said to her belatedly.

Lae dragged her gaze away from Khatrene to smile up at him, quite recovered from her shock. ‘You know I cannot help doing what I am forbidden.’ Her expression said quite clearly that she expected no reprimand.

Talis couldn’t even muster a frown and ended up shaking his head. He glanced at Khatrene. ‘My Lady,’ he said, ‘may I present my betrothed, Lae of the House of Be’uccdha, daughter of The Dark.’

Lae curtsied once more, formally this time and the hem of her dress swished in the dust. Made of a rich chocolate fabric that shimmered in places, her gown was a high-waisted close fit with not much skin showing. Attractive, but if it came to a choice between dragging skirts and well-worn jeans, Khatrene would take the denim every time.

‘I’m pleased to meet you at last, Lae,’ she said.

The girl straightened and inclined her head. ‘My Lady.’

Khatrene had the distinct impression that all her deference was for Talis’s benefit. She clearly wasn’t going to see the ‘real’ Lae while her betrothed was near. ‘I’m glad you’re safe,’ Khatrene said after a moment, struggling for conversation now that the introductions were dispensed with. ‘We were all worried about you.’

Talis nodded at this and then turned back to scanning the area.

‘As you can see, My Lady,’ Lae said, taking her arm to lead her away, ‘I am unharmed.’

‘Yet the White Princess may make a more valuable captive,’ Talis said, stepping quickly to catch Lae’s arm. ‘Do not think to take my charge from my sight, Lae.’

There was still no censure in his voice and Khatrene marvelled at his patience. The frown on his face was all worry and no exasperation.

‘I would like to talk to Lae,’ Khatrene said, and Lae pounced on this royal decree.

‘You may watch your Lady from a distance,’ she said, waving Talis away. ‘I would have her ear in private.’

Talis wasn’t budging. ‘What matter could you speak to the Princess about that I should not —’

‘Why, it could be you,’ Lae replied tartly. She stared him down.

Behind Lae’s back Khatrene shrugged. It wasn’t her fight.

Talis scanned their surroundings again, then looked back to Lae. ‘Very well,’ he said, after some consideration. ‘I will watch from that stone there. But you must not move from this place’

‘I am all obedience,’ Lae said, as though she actually expected him to believe that. Khatrene stifled a smile. Talis was going to have his work cut out for him when they were married.

He turned and walked ten paces off with Lae watching every step. Then she turned to rest her back against the pillar, arms folded comfortably across her tomboy chest. Glancing sideways at Khatrene, she said, ‘I was surprised to see the Princess I played with not three years ago, grown into a woman before me.’ Khatrene nodded and was about to say something self-deprecating when Lae added, ‘And not quite the beauty we had all expected.’

Meow.

Khatrene knew she wasn’t beautiful, but she hadn’t expected to have it pointed out to her quite so bluntly. She glanced at Talis and then back to Lae. ‘You’re not jealous …?’

The girl gave her an airy glance and turned away, pretending to watch Talis, then she lifted a swathe of espresso-coloured hair and flipped it over her shoulder, for all the world as though she were now alone.

Across the clearing, the already heated discussion grew louder and Khatrene glanced across to see Talis watching his uncle and cousin with a frown. Lae continued to ignore her and Khatrene decided she might as well call Talis back if his girlfriend had finished insulting her.

A moment later he glanced their way but before Khatrene could signal him to return, he dove out of concealment and bounded towards them, shouting a warning to his uncle.

Lae spun around, and her eyes, fixed over Khatrene’s shoulder, opened so widely that white was visible all around the dark irises. She grabbed her Princess’s arms, dragging Khatrene towards her and the two nearly fell into Talis who darted around behind them with sword drawn. A moment later there were guardsmen everywhere.

Khatrene pressed her back against the rock. Her heart was thundering. ‘What was it?’ she panted.

Lae shook her head. ‘A man? A shadow? Something intent on you, Princess, and so close, if I had not turned when I did …’

‘Lae!’ There was no indulgence in her Champion’s voice now.

‘I return to my guard,’ she said and scampered away to find the hapless guardsman she had escaped from. The man who, like Pagan, would now have some explaining to do.

Khatrene tried to catch her breath. ‘Who was it?’

Talis had his back to her. ‘I saw only a shadow. A Raider, most like.’

‘What did he want?’

He turned. ‘Are you harmed, Princess?’ His dark eyes inspected her for damage.

‘No.’ She put a hand over her heart. ‘Just frightened. I’m okay.’

He turned in a circle, scanning, then glanced across the compound to where Laroque was calling out orders.

She noticed the way his fingers bit into the hilt of his sword. ‘I’ll be okay here if you want to —’

‘No.’ His eyes came back to hers and they were suddenly very dark. ‘An enemy of the throne came near enough to harm you, Princess. I will not leave you again on anyone’s request, not even your own.’

Khatrene nodded, a little in awe of his anger. ‘That’s … fine.’

They stood in silence as Laroque’s men combed the area and reported no sight of the intruder.

Talis was so worked up that even Lae kept her distance. Strangely, Khatrene felt comforted by his fury, as though it was a barrier between herself and anything bad in the world. The voice had been her only other safeguard, and it had just let her down badly.

Why didn’t you warn me there was someone behind me?
she asked it.

A
JOURNEY IS BORING IF YOU KNOW EVERY STEP.

If I …
Khatrene was aghast.
I don’t want to know every step. Just the dangerous stuff.

W
OULD YOU HAVE ME TAKE THE PLACE OF YOUR
C
HAMPION?

Khatrene glanced at Talis standing beside her. Despite being surrounded by the guard, he had yet to sheath his sword and his eyes never stopped moving. Who would she rather have protecting her? Talis, or the voice?

No
, she said,
you might disappear on a whim. I don’t trust you the way I trust him.

W
ELL CHOSEN.
N
O OTHER WILL SACRIFICE AS MUCH FOR YOU.

Sacrifice. What does that mean?

Silence.

Damn.

She watched Talis, now in conversation with Laroque, and wondered what the voice had meant. Sacrifice what? A circling, sick feeling took hold of her stomach. The more they were together, the more real Talis was to her. He’d been merely ‘the Champion’ when they’d met. A cardboard cut-out of a man. Now he had mannerisms and a temper and a fiancée. She’d seen him kill and she’d also seen him smile.

The idea that he might die because of her was so unacceptable she couldn’t begin to entertain it. Instead she forced herself to concentrate on the conversation, which was curt and to the point. Believing the larger force would draw more attention and thus be more prone to attack, Talis was telling his uncle that he would take the Princess ahead alone. Laroque and his warriors could follow when the men of The Dark’s guard had come and taken Lae.

‘You will need another warrior,’ Laroque argued. ‘To share watch.’

Talis merely gazed at his uncle and the expression on his face was so implacable Khatrene felt as though she was looking at a different man. This was not the nephew who deferred to his uncle’s judgement. This man was the King’s Champion and he would not be argued with.

‘The Rite of Revival has weakened your powers,’ Laroque added, clearly worried for his nephew. ‘Should the need arise —’

‘Then I will take Pagan,’ Talis said.

Khatrene opened her mouth, shut it again. Laroque appeared happy with the addition of Pagan to their party, which presumably meant it was the safer option. For her own part, Khatrene had been looking forward to avoiding Pagan’s conversation for the rest of the journey, but that looked impossible now.

‘Cousin,’ Talis called. Pagan trotted over. ‘You will help me guard the White Princess. Prepare your pack. We leave in fifty heartbeats.’

Pagan glanced at his father, who nodded, before loping off to collect his bundle. He came back with it slung over his chest.

‘I stand ready to serve the White Princess,’ he said.

Talis nodded for him to precede them. ‘My Lady.’ Talis gestured for her to follow Pagan, then fell in behind.

She managed a hasty farewell to Laroque before she was hustled away and the party behind them was lost in the mists of Stonypike Plateau. Not even a parting word between Talis and Lae, she realised later. But Khatrene kept her comments to herself and her eyes on Pagan’s back, trying to think only of finally seeing Mihale again and not who might be preparing to jump out at any moment from the spooky stone pillars they passed. The sound of Talis’s footsteps behind her would have been reassuring, if only she could stop hanging on each one, terrified that they’d stop. What had the voice meant by ‘sacrifice’? Not his life, surely?

Her nerves were ready to snap when they finally cleared the plateau and immediately set off across Hand Steppe, a flatland covered in ankle-high stringy blades of seaweed-like fungus that clung to her boots. Thankfully it was not as prickly as the pretzel-hard snap-grass of the Elder Stand, but it was still awkward to negotiate. The mist was thinner here but the ever-present cloud cover pressed down from above, like foaming waves on a brown ocean. Of all the landscapes she’d seen so far, this was by far the weirdest, and she half expected some prehistoric sea creature to come lurching towards her out of the mist.

Still, they had yet to negotiate Rue Marsh, and from what Laroque had told her of the journey, that would be worse. Once through Rue Marsh they would begin their ascent. The Volcastle lay above the clouds and Khatrene was heartily grateful for that. She’d all but forgotten what real sunlight felt like.

Pagan continued to lead the way but now Talis walked beside her. From time to time she snatched a glance at his face, thinking to start a conversation, but each time his expression daunted her. Knowing Talis as she did now, the anger she could see in the tight set of his jaw was most likely self-directed. It simply wasn’t in his nature to blame his Princess or his betrothed for the danger their little conversation had precipitated. But it had been their fault and Khatrene was determined to apologise for her part in it. Later, when he was ready to listen.