Lord of the Fading Lands (40 page)

«I expected them to insult me, not Lillis and Lorelle,»
she admitted, then looked up sheepishly.
«I was ready to go for his throat myself.”

Rain's teeth bared in a predator's smile.
«Release me from my oath, and I will make him scream for forgiveness.»
When she didn't, he sighed with mock disappointment.
«More's the pity. So, aside from his insulting arrogance, what did you think of him? Does he strike you as a man of honor? Is he someone a Fey can trust, once he gives his word?”

She stopped in her tracks and gaped at him. "How should I know?" Surprise made her blurt it aloud. "I'm no
shei'dalin
to read the truth in a man's soul.”

Rain wove a quick web of magic to catch her words and keep them from traveling. «
Silently, Ellysetta. Corrias is recording every word for his report to Dorian and the queen. And as for reading a man's soul, aiyah, you can. You've been doing a shei'dalin's service all evening.»

«What?»
Her eyes went wide with shock, then narrowed as her brows drew together.
«Is that why you've been asking for my opinions all night? Not to put me at ease, but to
use
me?
Or
rather, to get me to use the magic you claim I possess?»

«You do possess magic, Ellysetta. Denying it won't change that.

And nei, I was not using you. If anything, I was testing you. Marissya has already read most of the nobles at this gathering. You read every one of them exactly as she did. Exactly, Ellysetta. Do you honestly believe it's pure coincidence that your intuition aligns perfectly with the reading of our most powerful shei'dalin?»

Her anger faltered, shaken by the possibility he was telling the truth. She'd always had a sense about people. Her father often asked for her opinion before making a purchase from a vendor he didn't know. "You have an eye for an honest man, Ellie-girl," he'd always praised, and she'd never thought more of it than that. Now Rain claimed her "eye for an honest man" was magic.
Shei'dalin
magic.

"My Lord Feyreisen?" Lord Corrias turned back to them. "Is there a problem?”

Rain looked down at Ellie, his eyes steady, his face an impassive mask.

She took a breath and gathered her composure. "No, my lord. No problem." She put her hand back on Rain's wrist, and his emotions surged up her arm at the first touch: determination, pride, a hint of remorse, but not much. She had a gift, one he was determined she would accept and learn to use. As frightening as that seemed, she'd already been using some measure of that gift all her life. Did it really matter whether she called it magic or an eye for an honest man? Her shoulders squared. Her chin lifted.
«Lord Morvel will honor his contracts to the word, but not one letter more.»

A quick, surprised glance brushed her cheek, then warm approval flowed across her senses. The arm beneath her fingers lost a bit of its tension.
«Beylah vo, Ellysetta.»

She gave a small nod, but kept her eyes fixed forward and forced a pleasant expression as Lord Corrias introduced yet another noble couple. "Lord Durbin, Lady Durbin. It is a pleasure to meet you both"

When they met Lord Cannevar Barrial, Rain could tell that Ellysetta liked him more than anyone else save Teleos. So did he. The border lord had a sturdy, no-nonsense look about him. His clothes were impeccably fine, but tailored for practicality with no long swags or bulk of fabric to hinder him should a ballroom unexpectedly turn into a battlefield. He wore two long, jeweled daggers at his waist—one on each side—and Rain would be surprised if both weren't razor sharp and made to fit in Lord Barrial's hand with comfortable ease.

The most intriguing thing about Lord Barrial, however, was the heavy gold chain draped around his throat—or rather, the large, cabochon Tairen's Eye crystal hanging from it, surrounded by a sunburst of diamonds in a graduated rainbow of shades. How had Cannevar Barrial, a Celierian border lord, come to possess a Fey warrior's
sorreisu'kiyr?

"Have you or a member of your family performed some special service to the Fey, Lord Barrial?" Rain asked when the introductions were complete. He gestured to the jewel around Barrial's throat. "A Tairen's Eye that size doesn't usually find its way out of Fey hands.”

"It's been in my family for centuries." The border lord's brow lifted. "Who knows? Perhaps there is a Fey ancestor somewhere far back in the Barrial family tree.”

"Perhaps there is," Rain acknowledged seriously. "Guard it well, Lord Barrial. There are those who would kill for such a prize.”

Lord Barrial gave a smile that changed him instantly from wealthy courtier to dangerous predator. "The warning is appreciated, My Lord Feyreisen, but unnecessary. I am well able to defend what belongs to me. It's something of a requirement for surviving on the borders.”

Rain liked the man all the more. "Dax tells me you have several children.”

"I do. Four sons and one lovely daughter who recently wed the heir of my neighbor Lord Sebourne, whom you met yesterday.”

"Then I am doubly in your debt for your words in Council yesterday and your willingness to entertain a close connection with the Fey. I hope your support did not cause a breach between you and your daughter's bond-family.”

Lord Barrial smiled. "Sebourne and I share long years between us. It would take more than a simple disagreement in Council to set us at each other's throats." The smile faded, and seriousness took its place. "He's not a bad sort. Pompous, yes, but the zealous dislike of
dahl'reisen
is a recent development. Too many of the attacks have been focused on his lands, and he's begun seeing enemies in every shadow. That's one reason I agreed to the king's request. My daughter lives on Sebourne land now—or will once she and Colum return from their bridal voyage. For her sake, I'll do whatever I can to help put an end to those attacks.”

"Was your daughter betrothed at a young age, Lord Barrial?" Ellysetta interrupted.

"Why do you ask?”

Rain pressed his fingers against her waist. «
Shei'tani, leave it. I have said I will speak with him.»

Ellie firmed her jaw and blurted, "I don't approve of betrothing young children. They should have a choice of whom they wed. A chance to find love.”

The border lord drew back in surprise and Rain cast her a reproving glance. Blood rushed to her cheeks, but she set her face in a mulish expression and held Lord Barrial's gaze.

Rain sighed.«
You must learn to trust me, Ellysetta.”

Looking from Rain to Ellie, Lord Barrial said quietly, "I would never willingly do anything to cause my children unhappiness. Nor would I propose a union that was unwelcome.”

"The Feyreisa is very protective of her sisters' happiness," Rain told him. "And she was recently betrothed to a man not of her choosing. She has asked that no betrothal offers be made to her parents at this time.”

"Ah." Understanding dawned. Lord Barrial nodded to Ellysetta. "I heard of your betrothal, and your day in court. On the borders, happiness is too fleeting to waste a moment of it trapped in a cold marriage. Talisa wed the day of her twenty-fifth birthday, by her own choosing, because she had never found another who suited her better than Colum diSebourne. It is not the love match I wanted for her, but they are friends." The border lord bowed to Rain. "My offer was merely that—an offer. Any bond between us is negotiable.”

Rain returned the bow with a nod, and Lord Barrial moved away. When he was gone, Rain turned to Ellie and shook his head.
«You may think you are a coward, shei'tani, but you are mistaken. No other woman in this room, with the possible exception of Annoura or Marissya, would have challenged a man of Lord Barrial's standing as you just did.»
He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss upon it.
«When it comes to those you love, Ellysetta, you are fierce as any tairen.»

Across the room, Annoura watched the Tairen Soul kiss his peasant-bride's hand and escort her around the palace ballroom as if she were the Queen of Queens.

Already, many of Celieria's best had begun softening towards her, thanks to Dorian's infuriating surprise announcement. Lords who might have remained hostile to a foreign king and his unacceptable bride would not risk insulting one of the Great Houses. Who would have guessed Dorian could ever arrange such a coup, let alone arrange it so swiftly? And he'd not once said a word to her about it!

Furious, Annoura snatched a glass of pinalle from a passing waiter and took a long, satisfying sip of the chilled alcohol. Heady warmth followed the sweet, cool flavors of the wine, and she regarded Dorian's two prize bulls over the rim of her wineglass Barrial's participation in this farce didn't surprise her much. He fancied himself an everyman's lord: the sort who would happily roll back his sleeves and toil in the dirt alongside his men. He'd toss out the offer just to prove his willingness to accept a person on merit rather than position. As if that were somehow an asset. She hadn't forgotten how quickly he'd jumped to the Fey's defense in Council yesterday. Only Teleos and Dorian were bigger Fey-lovers.

But Morvel … the way he bragged on the purity of his noble House, you'd think each thimbleful of seed that spewed from his loins was worth a fifty-weight in gold. How in the name of all the gods had Dorian convinced Albuthnas Morvel even to consider merging his highly pedigreed bloodlines with a woodcarver's whelp?

Somehow, some way, Dorian had managed it. If it had been for any other purpose, she'd be luminous with pride, ebullient with the proof of her royal husband's irrefutable power. But not for this. As always, he stirred himself most not on behalf of his own family, his own wife, but for those gods- cursed, soul-scorching Fey.

Annoura downed the rest of her wine in one angry gulp, then shuddered a little as the warmth washed over her in waves. She'd have to be careful. She hadn't eaten much today, and the deceptively sweet blue wine would quickly go to her head.

Wouldn't it be amusing if the girl got drunk and made a fool of herself?
From nowhere, the memory of Jiarine's wicked laughter popped into Annoura's head.

She stared at the empty glass in her hand. A small blue drop of liquid still clung to the rim. She scooped it up with a diamond-dusted fingertip and licked it slowly from her skin as she watched Rain Tairen Soul squiring his woodcarver's daughter from one group of nobles to another, watched the obsequious smiles and the fawning that had already begun.

The dinner gong rang. Annoura handed her glass to a passing servant, forced a serene smile to her face, and offered her hand to Dorian. Together, shining like stars beneath the palace chandeliers, they led their guests to dinner in the banquet hall adjoining the ballroom and took up their seats at the head table.

As they waited for their guests to be seated, she called the wine steward responsible for serving the head table to her side. He was a discreet man, one she'd brought with her years ago from Capellas. "Do be sure to keep the Feyreisa's wineglass full," she murmured to him. "And when keflee is served, brew her a special cup from my private stock. Use the new blend in the purple silk bag." She smiled sweetly. "I wouldn't want to offer anything but the best to the Fey's new queen."

Sing and dance the razor's edge, men.

Weave your magic fierce and strong.

Let your steel drink deep of blood, Fey.

Loose the tairen in your souls.

—Call to Battle,
a Fey Warrior's Song

As the night deepened over Norban, Wilmus Able, pubkeeper of the Hound and Boar, stood behind his bar, deftly drying the last of the day's freshly washed shot glasses and humming the tune of an old Fey warrior's song he'd learned as a boy.

"Hmm hmm hm hmmm hmm…. loose the tairen in your souls. Yah!" With a grin, he tossed several of the shot glasses in the air and began juggling them just like the Fey warriors he'd worshipped in boyhood used to juggle their razor-sharp blades. The glasses went up smoothly and stayed up as his hands remembered the long-ago rhythm.

Ah, Light! The visit by those two Fey today had stirred up a host of memories he'd all but lost. Hard times, but good ones. Some of the best days of his life. How could he have forgotten those years, his youthful love of the Fey? He added a fifth and sixth glass to the four already flying in great loops above his rapidly moving hands, and grinned proudly. "Eh, now, Wilmus, old man. You haven't lost your touch.' Deed you haven't.”

Behind him, the hinges of the front door squeaked as someone entered the pub.
Drat that Mary Betts,
Wilmus thought with a spurt of irritation, embarrassed to be caught juggling.
Useless girl never remembered to lock up after leaving.
"Sorry," he called. He kept his eyes on the airborne glasses, catching the first four as they descended and setting them on the counter. "We're closed.”

Silence answered. A draught of chill air swirled around him. He frowned in confusion as his breath fogged before him. Oddest damn thing. He caught the fifth shot glass out of the air and flicked a glance at the mirror hung over the bar. His face went white.

"Light save me." The sixth glass dropped past his nerveless fingers and shattered on the floor at his feet.

Mother and Daughter moons rose over the treetops of Great- wood Forest. Their dual brightness illuminated Carthage Road so clearly, Sian and Torel didn't need to rely on Fey vision as they loped down the rutted dirt track.

Somewhere in the miles of forest behind them, an unearthly scream ripped the night, then abruptly fell silent. Sian's smooth stride faltered. "Did you hear that?"

"Lyrant," Torel said. "They scream like a dying man."

"You sure?" Sian cast a cautious look around, pupils widening as he tried to pierce the darkness of the surrounding forest. "Sounded human to me.”

Torel rolled his eyes. "They scream like a dying
human
man.

I thought you said you weren't afraid of the woods after dark."

"The woods didn't flaming well scream, now, did they?"

"You going to quiver at every twig snap?”

"Get scorched”

Torel's teeth flashed. "We've thirty miles to go, my blade brother. Race you?”

Sian grinned. "Beat you!" He took off, long Fey legs sprinting rapidly, dust rising up in his tracks.

Torel swore and leapt after him. One day. One day he would stop falling for that.

Celierians
did
use too many forks.

Sitting in the place of honor beside King Dorian at the head table, Ellysetta stared at the intimidating collection of flatware surrounding her plate. There were at least ten forks of varying sizes and shapes to the left of her plate, plus six knives and four spoons on the right, and another selection of spoons, forks, and small knives spread in a decorative fan at the top of her plate. Six crystal goblets shimmered in the Fire-lit glow of the chandeliers. Three decoratively folded napkins in gold, silver, and Celierian blue stood sentry over a stack of four plates of graduating sizes, topped with a small cobalt and gold bowl.

Were the chefs actually intending to serve enough food to use each of the utensils, goblets, and dinnerware set out before her? Her stomach hurt at the mere thought of it.

She glanced to her right and watched Rain's long, elegant fingers pluck his gold napkin from its place, unfold it, and lay it in his lap. Throughout the banquet hall, others were doing the same. She reached for her gold napkin, intending to follow suit.

"And how are your wedding preparations going, Mistress Baristani?”

Ellie jumped and sent one of her goblets toppling. The crystal made a loud pinging noise as it rolled against the selection of small knives at the top of her place setting. Several heads lifted, dozens of eyes looked her way. She made a hurried grab for the fallen goblet, but Rain beat her to it, righting the glass and feathering a cool, reassuring touch across the back of her hand as he smoothly handed her the gold napkin.

"You will address her as My Lady Feyreisa," the Tairen Soul corrected softly. "Or Lady Ellysetta.”

Bright flags of color spotted the pale cheeks of Lady Thea Trubol, senior lady-in-waiting to the queen, who sat directly across the table from Ellie. "My apologies, Lady Ellysetta.”

Ellysetta forced her nerves to calm before unfolding her napkin and draping it across her lap. "There is no need to apologize, my lady," she said. "And as far as the wedding plans, they are going as well as can be expected. My mother and Lady Marissya have done most of the real work, and the queen has been very generous in sending her craftsmasters to aid us.”

"Weddings are exhausting events, are they not?" Lord Barrial remarked. As an eligible widower, he'd been partnered with the equally eligible Lady Thea for dinner. "Having recently survived my daughter's wedding, I can honestly say it required more strategic planning and careful execution than most sieges I've led.”

"That explains my battle fatigue," Ellie answered without thinking, then bit her lip. Had that sounded ungracious? Luckily, both Lord Barrial and the king thought she'd been joking and laughed with good humor. A servant appeared at her elbow and poured pale blue chilled wine in one of her six goblets.

"Celierian pinalle," King Dorian informed her. "Have you ever tasted it?”

"No, Your Majesty." She'd never had anything stronger than the much-watered red demi-wine served at weddings and funerals in the West End.

The king smiled. "It has quite a heady kick, so sip it slowly”

Nodding, hoping to calm her nerves, Ellie reached for the goblet and took an experimental sip. The pinalle was lovely: refreshingly cool, sweet and tangy. Following the iced chill and the fruity sweetness came surprising warmth, the heady kick King Dorian had mentioned. Her roiling stomach relaxed. She took another sip. "It is very good, Your Majesty" she murmured, because the king was still looking at her as if he expected her to say something. "Thank you." After a third sip, she put the goblet down.

"The queen tells me your father is quite a brilliant craftsman. Woodworking, I believe?”

"Yes, sire," she managed to reply. "He's a Master woodcarver." She couldn't believe the king of Celieria was sitting beside her, shining like the sun, asking after her father's abilities. It was with a surreal sense of disbelief that Ellie noted King Dorian had warm, thickly lashed hazel eyes, and a pleasant smile that showed a slightly crowded set of white teeth.

After a moment of silence, the king prompted, "My queen has commissioned a piece from your father, I believe.”

"Yes, Your Majesty."
Manners, Ellie. Remember your manners.
"We were very honored to receive her request." She reached for the pinalle and took a quick gulp.

"Will you be remaining in Celieria long after your wedding, Lady Ellysetta?" That question came from Lady Thea. Ellie turned her head quickly, eager to escape conversation with the king before she made a fool of herself.

"The Fey depart after the prince's betrothal," Rain answered before Ellie had the chance.

Lady Thea smiled at Ellysetta. "I envy you. Legend has it the Fading Lands are a paradise beyond compare.”

"I am
looking forward to it," Ellie admitted. "I can't wait to see Dharsa and Fey'Bahren and the ivory towers of Cresse and Tairen's Bay on the southern coast where Fellana the Bright first met Sevander vel Jiolan.”

Rain gave her a look of surprise. "The legend of Fellana and Sevander is older than time. I would not have thought anyone in Celieria still remembered it.”

"A small collection of Fey poetry survived the burning of the western libraries," Ellie replied. "The books are kept in the museum now, but the curator allowed me to make copies of them. 'Feliana's Tale' was one of the poems in the books.”

"Who is Fellana?" Lady Thea asked.

"According to the poem," Ellie answered, "Fellana was a female tairen who fell in love with a Fey king named Sevander. She wanted to live her life with him, so she asked a powerful Elden Mage to transform her into a Fey woman. He agreed, but only on the condition that Fellana would seal her tairen soul into a dark crystal and give it to him. She loved Sevander so much that she did as the Mage asked, and for several years, she and Sevander lived happily. They had a child together, a boy named Tevan.”

"I take it their happiness didn't last?" Lady Thea prompted.

Ellie smiled. She wasn't the only one who loved Fey tales, apparently. "No, it didn't. What Fellana didn't know was that the Mage intended to use her tairen power to destroy Sevander and the Fey. With the crystal's power to aid him, he gathered a vast army and invaded the Fading Lands.

"When she discovered how she'd been tricked, Fellana and Sevander gathered their own army of Fey and tairen and confronted the Mage. They killed him in a terrible battle, but not before Fellana and Sevander were mortally wounded. On her deathbed Fellana gave her-son Tevan the dark crystal containing her soul so that the tairen part of her would be with him always. And when he put the crystal around his neck, he found he could transform into his mother's true form. And Tevan, son of a Fey and a tairen, became the first Tairen Soul.”

"So Tairen Souls only exist because of the Mages," Lord Morvel noted from Rain's right.

"The tale is a myth," Rain replied. "Spoken of only in very ancient Fey poetry written before the dawn of the First Age. But it is interesting to note that even then, in the time before memory, Elden Mages were an evil, corrupt lot seeking conquest over the Fey.”

"Then it's a good thing you destroyed all the Mages a thousand years ago," Queen Annoura replied coolly, "and that we've seen no sign of their revival since.”

Ellysetta saw Rain's fingers tighten around the stem of his wineglass. She caught his other hand in hers. He sent her a disgruntled look, but held his silence.

"Now we have only to worry about murderous
dahl'reisen
like the Dark Lord, Gaelen vel Serranis," Lady Thea agreed. "Though, of course, some say he's a myth too.”

"No." Beside her, Lord Barrial took a long gulp of pinalle. "The Dark Lord is no myth. He definitely still exists. And while I remain skeptical about his involvement in the recent troubles on the borders, I don't doubt that many of the legends about him are true. A more deathly, frightening being I've yet to meet." He glanced at Marissya, who sat out of earshot at the far end of the head table, then looked at Rain. "No offense to the Fey, or to Lady Marissya”

"I am well aware of what Celierians say about Gaelen vel Serranis," Rain said.

Ellie shivered. Although most believed that Marissya's brother, Gaelen vel Serranis, had died in the Mage Wars, Celierian legend proclaimed that he—or his ghost—still roamed the borders, hunting for Eld and stealing the souls of the unwary.

"You say you've met him?" King Dorian inquired. "He's still alive?”

"Ta."
Lord Barrial slipped into his native border dialect before remembering himself. "I mean, yes. He is alive, and I have met him. Twice, actually. Once when I was a lad of five, during the Elden raid that caused my parents' deaths. Then again this year, just before my daughter wed diSebourne.”

"What is he like?" Lady Thea whispered.

Lord Barrial stared into the pale blue depths of his goblet for a few silent moments. "Cold," he replied at last. "When he's near, the world grows cold and your breath mists before your face, as if his presence sucks all the warmth from the living. That's the only sign that tells you he's nearby. Other than that, you don't see, sense, or hear him, unless he wants you to.”

"Bah," Lord Morvel scoffed. "Nothing but nonsense and ghost stories, Barrial. Quit trying to scare the ladies”

Lord Barrial gave his fellow border lord a hard look. "You don't believe, Morvel, because you don't want to believe there's a presence on the border greater than yours. But Gaelen vel Serranis is real.”

Morvel huffed. "Never once in all my years have I seen anything to make me believe that some soul-damned ghost warrior roams the borders in search of Eld prey. It's a silly story made up by parents to keep their children from wandering too far from the safety of their own keeps.”

"Morvel, I saw him gut the ten Elden raiders who had killed my parents and were about to kill me. I saw his face, his eyes a blue as pale and cold as glacier ice, and his
dahl'reisen
scar. Running from the center of his forehead, bisecting his right eyebrow, and ending here just below his right ear." Barrial's hand traced the path of the scar on his own face. "It was the Dark Lord.”