Prince of Swords (23 page)

“Pretty girls should not look so glum,” the new emperor said as they moved steadily forward.

“I'm not glum,” she responded.

“Trust me, I am an expert on reading the expressions of beautiful women,” he said with a touch of humor. “Your thoughts at this moment are not happy ones, I'd guess. I'd also guess those thoughts have something to do with a much-too-serious swordsman who has laid claim to you.”

“Lyr has hardly laid claim to me,” Rayne said softly.

“So I was right.”

“Yes, you are right.” She straightened her spine. “I'm being silly. There's much to be done in the waning days of war. Lyr will come to me when the time is right, when all is well and his duty is done—”

“For a man like Lyr, duty is never done,” Devlyn interrupted. “For those like your Prince of Swords, there's always a fight, an injustice, a mission, a calling. Duty never dies, it just changes direction now and then.”

While she wanted to argue with her friend, she knew he was right. “Where does that leave me?” she asked, her brow knitting in a frown.

Devlyn, Emperor Jahn, sighed. “It leaves you waiting until he decides he has the time for you. It leaves you alone for weeks and months at a time, while he makes himself a hero. It leaves you forever wondering when he'll come to you next, or if he'll come at all.”

“But he loves me,” Rayne protested without heat.

“Has he told you so?” the emperor asked. “Has he vowed his undying love and asked you to be his wife?”

Rayne hesitated, pursing her lips and then blowing out a bit of air. “No, not yet.”

Devlyn rolled his eyes wildly. “Please tell me that you have not told the man that you love him.”

“But I do love Lyr,” Rayne said. “Of course I told him.”

“More than once?” He sounded almost horrified.

“Yes.”

Devlyn's sigh was one of pure disgust. “You have given him a mighty advantage, in laying your heart on the line as you have. Of course, being a woman, you can always take back your words. Women often do contradict themselves, and no one questions that fact.”

“Why would I take the words back?” she asked. “I
do
love him.”

“Do you want a man who will fight for you, my pretty gardener?”

“Lyr has fought for me.”

Devlyn lifted his hand for emphasis. “No, he has fought for his destiny, he has fulfilled the prophesy, he has done what needed to be done in order to defeat an unimaginable threat to the world we live in. You, my pretty gardener, were no more than a pleasant reward for all his hard work.”

“That isn't true!” she said, but her heart sank. She'd been the one to ask Lyr to lie with her. Hadn't she all but begged? He'd never had need to pursue her. She'd been the one to declare her love, again and again. She had all but thrown herself at Lyr over and over, and as any man likely would have, he'd simply caught her. “I'm an idiot,” she said in a softer voice.

“No,” Devlyn insisted. “You are no idiot. Naive, perhaps, but not an idiot. If you are content to sit back and wait for Lyr to come to you when and where he pleases, then by all means continue on as you have. I'm sure your time together is quite pleasurable. But if you want more…” He stopped and said in a slightly raised voice. “I'm a bit parched.”

In moments a sentinel was there with a wineskin, which Devlyn took with a smile. “Being emperor is going to be excellent,” he said when the sentinel had moved away. He took a long swig.

“If I want more?” Rayne prompted.

“Oh yes, now where was I?”

“If I want
more
,” Rayne said again, her patience fading.

“Make him fight for
you
,” Devlyn said. “Only for you. No demon, no prophesy, just the gardener and the Prince of Swords.”

Her heart lurched. “I'm not sure I know how to make that happen.”

“I do, so never fear on that front.”

Rayne wondered if Lyr would fight for her, and that wondering made her realize that Devlyn was right. She had to know that she was more to Lyr than a pleasant convenience. Still…“What if he doesn't fight for me?”

Devlyn shrugged and took another swig of wine. When he was done, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and said, “Then you haven't lost much at all, have you?”

 

S
INCE THE NIGHTS WERE COOL BUT NOT HORRIBLY SO,
when they stopped to rest no tents were pitched. Everyone, even the new emperor and his brother, even Lyr's mother, even Keelia and her man, even Rayne, slept beneath the stars. There were enough blankets to go around, two good fires, and plenty of food. The newly discovered heirs to the throne were well guarded throughout the night, but since they had run across only a handful of Ciro's Own in the past two days, the guard was just a precaution.

The palace which was their destination, the palace where Lyr had defeated the demon and where Ariana and Sian waited, rose in the distant moonlight. They would reach the palace tomorrow midday at their current rate of travel. There was much to happen after they arrived. A new emperor would be introduced, and there was a demon-filled dagger to be hidden in Level Thirteen.

And when that was done, Lyr could return home to Tryfyn.

He assumed that Rayne would come with him when that time came. She had no other place to go, after all. He couldn't imagine that she'd want to return to her father's house, and she had no family to turn to. He couldn't imagine deserting her. No, she was his responsibility as much as the dagger he carried with him.

It was true that his bride had been all but chosen for him, but if he returned to the Circle of Bacwyr with an Earth Goddess, surely he would be forgiven for not pursuing those plans.

He could not approach Rayne in the night, as she slept close to Keelia and Isadora and the well-guarded heirs. She had become friendly with both of the brothers, most particularly the one who was to be emperor. He should be glad that she was not alone while he did what had to be done, but something that could only be called jealousy tried to rise up within him. He stamped it back down. Rayne was entirely his, and he had no reason to be jealous.

When he rested in the night, it was near the edge of camp, where he could keep watch. If any danger approached, he could stop time and deal with the problem. It was unlikely that any who were left of Ciro's Own would approach such a large party, but it was not an impossibility.

All was quiet in the camp and beyond. All was well with the world once again.

There would be time to deal with the details of what was to come once he'd disposed of the dagger, and his mind wandered to those details. He would be returning to the Circle without those soldiers who had been closest to him. How would he explain away Segyn's betrayal? They had all been fooled. Even his mother had been shocked by the news that Lyr's second in command had been in league with the demon.

When the time came, perhaps it would be best to paint Segyn as yet another victim of the war with the Isen Demon, though Lyr suspected his most trusted warrior had been fooling him and many others for a long time before the demon had risen.

It was disheartening to know he could be fooled so easily and completely. Was nothing and no one ever as they appeared to be?

When Lyr slept in the early morning hours, he dreamt of Segyn and poisonous berries and traitorous swords, and then the dream turned more peaceful and Rayne was there. Naked, laughing, then turning away.

There were moments when he thought that he loved Rayne in a way he had never thought to love a woman, but did he know her at all?

There would be time to get to know her now that the war was done. There would be all the time in the world to make sure that they would be as compatible in a time of peace as they were in a time of conflict.

At sunrise the army moved toward the palace ahead. Lyr looked back only once to find Rayne in deep conversation with Devlyn Arndell…Emperor Jahn. There was that surge of jealousy again, though he knew he had no need to be jealous.

Lyr wasn't sure he cared much for the rightful heir. Like Merin, he suspected the more serious younger brother would've made a better ruler.

S
INCE UNTIL A FEW WEEKS AGO SHE'D LIVED IN AN ISO
lated house far from the rest of the world, Rayne was understandably awed by her first up-close glimpse of Arthes. Stone buildings of all sizes were crowded together, the streets which crossed this way and that swarmed with people who all seemed to be moving about with some purpose. In the center of it all the imperial palace rose ten stories into the sky.

The palace was an amazing construction. Balconies jutted out from the stone edifice here and there, and there were many, many windows which looked out over the city. The building itself spoke of power, and she could not imagine all that had taken place here, and would take place in years to come.

As they neared the palace, winding through the city streets, Lyr's mother shifted her horse in and out of the traveling party until she was near Rayne. Her presence, so close, made Rayne nervous. Isadora Hern was a commanding woman, a stern presence, a powerful witch…and most imposing of all, she was Lyr's mother. What had Lyr said to his mother about her? Which would be worse, the entire truth or nothing at all?

At first Rayne thought that perhaps the woman intended to speak to her about Lyr, to warn her away from her son, but then she decided it was more likely that Isadora Hern wanted to speak to the new emperor and his brother. Perhaps she was moving this way to apologize to them for speaking so harshly about their father.

Then again, she did not appear to be a lady who often apologized for anything.

Dark eyes settled on Rayne, and the uncertainty was ended. She herself was the intended destination, not the heirs. Rayne didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified.

“My son tells me you are an Earth Goddess,” the lady said as she rode abreast of Rayne.

“So I have been told,” Rayne said. “I'm not sure…”

“Never doubt your power,” the woman said harshly. “Never deny who and what you are. Certainly never question what you have been sent to this earth to do.”

Rayne had no idea what she'd seen sent to this earth to do.
To love Lyr
was her initial reaction, but at the moment she did not trust her heart or her mind. “I can only believe that what I am meant to do will be made clear to me in due time.”

That response made Isadora smile. “Wise words for one so young.” The friendly smile did not last long enough to suit Rayne. “Keelia tells me that you will be required to accompany my son into Level Thirteen in order to put the crystal dagger to rights.”

Rayne twitched, startled by the news. “I don't know why I would be necessary for such a task.”

“Neither do I, but as you said, the true path will be made clear when the time is right.” Her expression hardened. “I spent some time in Level Thirteen, and you should be warned that it is not a pleasant place. Many died there, many suffered there, and it is believed that it was in Level Thirteen that the Isen Demon was born. The thing which wished to destroy us all was born of damned souls who could not find their way to the light. Souls addicted to Panwyr and half starved and lost in darkness.”

“Panwyr?” Rayne repeated.

“A very addictive and nasty drug. I'm glad to hear that it is unknown to you.” She glanced back at the brothers, who were at this moment studying the palace much as Rayne did, in absolute amazement. “Their father tried to ruin me with that drug, many years ago. He forced it into my body and then threw me into a hole in the ground, where he expected me to suffer horribly and then die. He might've succeeded, if not for the diligence and care of loved ones who fought for me.”

“If I may say so, m'lady, I would suggest that your strength of will certainly played a part in that victory.”

“You do not know me well enough to be aware of my will, or lack of it.”

“No, m'lady, but I know your son well enough, and I can see much of you in him.”

“Lyr is somewhat like me,” she said, “but he is more like his father. Heaven help us all,” she added with a touch of humor.

“Perhaps, m'lady, but I suspect a man such as he cannot be born of a weak woman.”

At this, Isadora smiled. “It doesn't seem right for a Goddess to call me ‘m'lady.' Isadora will do just fine.”

Though it was difficult to tell, Rayne suspected the invitation was an approval of sorts. “I would be happy to do so.”

Isadora's expression as they neared the palace was less than happy. “I swore I would never set foot in this palace again. I almost died here.” She shook off her melancholy. “I also met my husband here. Lucan courted me very well in this palace. I suppose I should attempt to remember the good times and forget the rest. It will likely be weeks before my husband and sisters arrive, since they do not have the advantage, or disadvantage, of Keelia's flight.”

Rayne suspected it was easier said than done to dismiss such bad memories. “Did your husband court you diligently?”

“Very much so.”

“He…he fought for you?”

“That he did,” Isadora said warmly.

“Then you are a fortunate woman indeed,” Rayne said. She looked to Lyr, who marched beside Merin with his attentions ahead, and then she glanced back at Devlyn, who bestowed upon her a wink and a grin. She supposed she would have to stop thinking of him as Devlyn and begin viewing him as Emperor Jahn, even though he looked and acted very little like the ruler of an entire country.

Isadora looked back, too, and she caught the tail end of the wink. “There are those who will welcome the twins because the blood of emperors flows through their veins, but there are others who will remember Sebestyen and not be so welcoming of his sons.”

“Will any question that they are his blood?” She did not want to see the brothers pulled into yet another kind of war.

Isadora's laughter was harsh. “There will be no questioning their heritage. The boys both look like him in some way. The younger is his spitting image, and the emperor…but for the color of his hair, the new emperor could be Sebestyen made over if he does not receive the correct guidance.”

“The new emperor is a good man.” Rayne was quick to defend her friend. “He would not do any of the things you have told me his father did.”

Isadora sighed tiredly. “I hope you're right, Rayne. I dearly do hope you're right.”

 

T
HREE DAYS AFTER THEIR ARRIVAL, A SMALL ARMY OF
sorts descended into Level Thirteen. Lyr, with the crystal dagger; Rayne, though Lyr was not yet certain why she was required; Sian, with his wizard's light; Keelia, with her knowledge of what was necessary to bury the demon once and for all.

Ariana and Isadora waited near the hatch in the floor as the others were lowered down by ropes in the hands of two strong sentinels, with Joryn's assistance. Lyr had never seen his mother so pale, but she refused to wait in a less harsh place in the palace until this deed was done. Sian refused to allow Ariana to visit the dark space beneath the palace again, and for once she listened to her husband.

Emperor Jahn, who'd been crowned that very morning, had insisted on being present for this endeavor, but he'd been left above with the women, as he was not necessary for what needed to be done here today.

Orbs of purple wizard's light glowed from Sian's palms, lighting the musty prison. Everyone was on edge, affected by the darkness and history of this place.

Everyone but Rayne, who stepped bravely forward. Sian had to walk directly behind her to make sure she didn't wander into darkness. Keelia followed Sian, and Lyr guarded the rear of the party.

“All is not entirely malevolent here,” Rayne said. “What happened in this place was indeed terrible, but the stones are merely stones, and the dirt is merely dirt.” She took a deep breath as she led them away from the open hatch high above. “Do you see the path which calls us forward? I see it, and it is quite lovely. There is peace here, peace lost in the darkness.” Soon only Sian's magical light lit Level Thirteen, as Rayne led them down a narrowing path. Naturally formed stone walls curved on either side, and Rayne trailed one hand along the stone wall as if it were a comfort to her.

Earth Goddess, Lyr reminded himself. This was her domain, as much as her gardens or the swamp water she'd controlled with her breath.

He did not know her at all, and she did not know him. That was a truth he had ignored until now. What awaited her in future days, this Earth Goddess who was unafraid when wizards and seers trembled?

The path widened, and Lyr heard Keelia and Sian breathe easier once more. Soon the widening path opened onto a grotto, where an underground spring provided a gentle rush of water and fungus grew wild.

Rayne turned her head and smiled. “Here. The path ends here.”

Keelia walked around Sian, who increased his wizard's light to illuminate the large space. “Yes,” she said. “The dagger must be placed beneath. Beneath what?” Her brow furrowed slightly.

The Anwyn Queen did not see precisely what was needed, but Rayne did. She pointed at the stream of water and then turned her head to look directly at Lyr. For a moment he thought he saw pain in her eyes, but then the pain was gone. “Are you ready?” she asked.

He nodded and moved past the others to stand beside Rayne.

Rayne faced the water and exhaled gently, forcing a rush of breath across the surface of the water much as she had in the swamp. The water responded, parting a little bit at first and then separating, peeling away from the bottom to reveal smooth, hard rock. What appeared to be the same type of crystal which had once formed the dagger shot through the rock and sparkled in Sian's light.

Rayne blindly took Lyr's hand, but she did not look at him. All of her attention was on the rock which had once been beneath the water. She squeezed his hand tightly and took a deep breath, and at her silent command the rock began to split much as the water had.

Keelia gasped as the very walls of the grotto shook. Sian uttered what Lyr recognized as a curse word in the ancient tongue of wizards. Rayne did not respond to the shaking at all. She focused all of her attention on the rock, as it formed a chasm that grew deeper and deeper, and a little bit wider.

The opening of the rock and the vibration stopped, and Rayne glanced over her shoulder to Keelia. “Enough?”

Keelia shook her head. “Not quite.”

Rayne squeezed Lyr's hand hard, and once again the rock cracked and split. How could such force be created by one so delicate and small? Rayne was small, but she was not without power. The sounds of the rock coming apart were deafening, as if the earth itself groaned and protested. Perhaps it did. Rayne continued to work at the rock until Keelia said softly:

“There.”

Rayne released Lyr's hand reluctantly, her fingers trailing over his palm, and then she nodded at him. Now it was his turn. He took the blackened crystal dagger from the sack he always carried, as he could not bear to have the weapon against his skin. He peeled away the purple fabric in which he had found it wrapped so long ago, and held the weapon over the chasm Rayne had opened.

He hesitated. “Will the dagger break when it hits the rock below?”

“No,” both Keelia and Rayne answered. They sounded very sure, and he had no choice but to trust these two extraordinary women.

Lyr held the dagger over the opening for a moment, and then he released it. He let the dagger drop into the chasm. He heard it fall, scraping against rock, pinging as crystal met stone, and then, finally falling silent.

That was it, or so he thought. Rayne stepped forward, removed the blue stone she had worn around her neck for so long, and dropped it in after the dagger, chain and all. The gem also hit against the stone, but the sound it made was lighter, as if it sang a song as it fell. The chain gave the occasional soft cling, until it was too far down for them to hear.

Rayne glanced up at him. “For keeping,” she said softly.

That done, she closed the rock as easily as she had opened it. Again, the walls of the grotto shook. Small stones loosened from the walls and fell, some splashing into the water, others pinging sharply against the rock floor. Keelia began to back toward their exit.

“We need to go. Now.”

“Not yet,” Rayne said calmly. She saw the rock she'd opened firmly sealed, and then she allowed the water to rush over the dagger's burial place. She no longer moved the earth, but the damage had been done and larger rocks began to fall.

This time Keelia screamed. “Run!”

Lyr scooped Rayne up, his arm easily encircling her waist, and followed a fleeing Keelia and Sian. As they reached the exit, a large boulder came loose and fell directly behind him. He jumped into the hallway, Rayne in his arms, and hit the ground as the boulder all but sealed the grotto.

And then the shaking stopped. A few small pebbles continued to fall, but the danger was past.

Lyr sat up. It was finally done. Ciro was dead, the demon was buried deep in the earth, and at last count, most of Ciro's Own had been accounted for. The prophesy had been fulfilled, and Rayne was safe. In the dim purple light he caught her eye and held it.