Prince of Swords (5 page)

Ciro was coming, and he would take the palace.

S
INCE
L
YR AND HIS MEN NEVER BOTHERED TO ASK IF ONE
of those oddly disguised hiding places had been located in her bedchamber, Rayne didn't feel as if she were lying when she neglected to guide them to it. It wasn't as if what she'd retrieved from that particular space was of any consequence to them. They were personal items, keepsakes which had belonged to her mother. A few pieces of jewelry. A journal her mother had kept when she'd first married—a journal Rayne had read again and again, each time becoming entranced by the words which were filled with light, filled with the woman she remembered.

Words which abruptly stopped, midway through the journal. Rayne had often wondered why, but in her heart she knew. At this point, her mother realized what kind of man she'd taken as her husband, and she no longer wished to preserve her dreams and thoughts. The journal of those happier days was a wonderful remembrance of her mother. The jewelry she might need to sell in order to survive, at least for a while.

Since Rayne had never been beyond the walls of her father's house, she wasn't sure how she would live after Lyr and his men left her in a safe but strange place. Perhaps someone would take her on as a housemaid, or she could find work on a farm of some sort. She'd always loved working outdoors, tending her garden and watching things grow, and she really wasn't afraid of hard work. Yes, that seemed almost an ideal solution. A farm. A simpler life.

First, she had to make her way down the mountain, and that was not as easy as she had thought it would be. While she had ridden on occasion, her outings had been limited to a small enclosed field beyond her garden. She was not an accomplished or adventurous horsewoman, and the trail which led from the house where she'd lived her entire life to the valley below was steep and treacherous. She held on to the saddlehorn tightly, waiting for the moment when she'd be thrown from the gentle mare.

Neither Lyr nor any of his men seemed to have trouble keeping their balance. They did not slip and slide, they did not even wobble. Annoying as he was, she could not help but think that she'd chosen wisely in picking her rescuer. Lyr Hern was more than capable. The dagger her mother had fashioned was in good hands.

Her entire life was about to change. Rayne was certain, deep in her heart, that she would never make the journey back up this mountain to the only home she had ever known. Her father had left here with Ciro, and she had no doubt that the man who claimed her as his beloved was not only dark, but
evil.
Wrong to the pit of his soul. Even if her father managed to come to his senses and extricate himself from the prince, a return to their previous lifestyle would not be possible. Unless Lyr and those he fought alongside defeated Ciro completely, she would never be entirely safe.

Jiri had been insistent that Ciro planned not only to wed her, but to give her some sort of special child. Rayne shuddered and almost slipped off the saddle. She could only imagine what sort of child a monster like Ciro would consider “special.”

Lyr remained as silent as she, but his men spoke often. Riding all around her, one directly ahead and one behind, with Segyn and Lyr leading the way, they bantered. They laughed. They spoke nonchalantly of battles to come and relived old ones. Even though she was located in the midst of them, they ignored her completely. Lyr was well ahead at the front of the party, so that all she could study of him was the back of his head and his squared shoulders. Since his hair was cut so short, she could see the strength in his neck and the muscled curves of his shoulders. Studying him, she was certain she had never before known a real soldier. Not Ciro, not any of her father's men. None were like this one.

Perhaps she thought so highly of him because he was her only chance at survival, and believing him to be extraordinary offered her momentary relief.

As they reached the end of a particularly difficult stretch of the trail, and the path leveled for a distance, Lyr turned to look at her. His stony expression was difficult to read, but she suspected that if she had fallen from the mountain and perished, he would not have shed a single tear for her.

A soldier such as this one, a fighter through and through, would likely not shed a tear for anyone.

 

T
HEY MADE CAMP MILES EARLIER THAN WOULD
'
VE BEEN
necessary if they didn't have a woman in their party. Lyr pushed the annoyance aside. Bringing Rayne along was unavoidable. Without her he would not have the crystal dagger in his possession, and the weapon would be necessary when he faced Ciro.

He should not ponder what might take place when that meeting occurred, but he couldn't help it. Though he had trained all his life in order to reach this position and this level of skill, he was not a battle-hardened warrior like Segyn, who was older and had fought among the clans before peace had been forged. Even if he had been more experienced in true battle, he had certainly never faced anyone—anything—like Prince Ciro. Keelia said the prince was possessed by a demon who collected souls from his victims, who drank blood, who would turn the world to darkness, given the chance.

Segyn was currently on watch, while Swaine and Til slept. They had spent many nights on the ground, and had no difficulty making themselves comfortable for the few hours of sleep they would be allowed. Even Rayne had settled down very quickly, though he suspected she was not accustomed to such conditions. At least it was not too cold nor too hot. The weather, in fact, was quite nice tonight.

Rayne seemed harmless enough, but he still did not trust her. Ciro claimed her as his betrothed. Why would he claim Rayne as his own if she was not as dark as he? Why would he so fiercely protect her, sparing a dozen men he could've used in battle to watch over her? It did appear that she'd been imprisoned, held against her will, but Lyr had been taught not to rely on what things
seemed
to be.

All he could see of his charge at the moment was her back and a long expanse of silky dark hair. When loose, it would fall past her waist, but she usually had it tied up this way or that. Had Ciro chosen his intended bride simply for her beauty? There were many beautiful women in the world, so that seemed unlikely. Had he chosen Rayne for some magic she'd hidden thus far? That seemed most likely. Ciro probably wanted to merge his own dark power with whatever gifts the wizard's daughter possessed.

As he watched, Rayne rolled over. By the light of the low fire he could see that her eyes were wide open. She was not having such an easy time sleeping, after all. For a long moment she watched him. He did not look away; he did not pretend that he hadn't been watching her. After a short while she sat up slowly and studied the rest of the camp. She looked at the two sleeping soldiers and watched Segyn pace near the most vulnerable section of the perimeter.

Instead of assuring herself that all was well and lying down once again, Rayne left her makeshift bed and walked toward Lyr.

He stiffened his spine and steeled his resolve. No matter what she said, he would take her no farther than the closest safe farmhouse or village—whichever came first. He would not, could not, personally deliver her to Prince Ciro. The sooner she was out of his care, the better.

She sat on the ground near him, but not too near. “I cannot sleep,” she confessed, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb the others.

“We will ride again as soon as there's light in the sky, whether you sleep well or not.”

She sighed. “I was not asking for special treatment, just…just…”

“Just what?” he snapped.

Her eyes caught and held his. “I need someone to talk to, and you claim to be an honorable man. My mind is spinning with questions and possibilities, and that is why I can't sleep. You're not sleeping either, and I thought that perhaps if we talked for a while, my mind would settle.”

“Fine,” Lyr said. “Talk.”

He did not expect her to smile so widely, not after all that had happened. And yet she did smile. “You are not much of one for conversation, are you?”

“No.”

“Why not? There's much to be learned in vibrant conversation with another person.”

“I have two younger sisters, and they talk enough for all of us.”

“Sisters,” she said warmly, the word rolling off her tongue with what seemed to be joy. “Tell me about them.”

He did not trust her enough to share family secrets, and he wasn't certain it was safe for her to possess too much information about him or his family. “I'd rather not. Instead, why don't you tell me what thoughts are keeping you from sleep?”

She seemed disappointed, but not horribly so. “Before you showed yourself to me, while you battled Ciro's soldiers above my head, Jiri revealed some information that raises more questions for me than it answers.”

“Such as?”

Her brow wrinkled a little. “What does it mean for one's soul to be pure?”

He was surprised by the nature of the question. “I suppose that depends on your religious beliefs.” There were many different religions practiced in Columbyana and Tryfyn, some worshipping The One God, others worshipping many gods. All of them believed in the existence and the importance of the soul and the afterlife, but the Prince of Swords had not undertaken a study of theology in his years of training. “They all strive for purity of the soul, I suspect, unless the religion is of a dark sort. I have heard of such dark religions.”

She looked into the shadows beyond their camp and nodded, but she did not seem satisfied with his answer. “If one wanted to tarnish a pure soul, how would they go about it?”

“Perhaps you should ask your sweetheart,” Lyr said darkly. “I believe the tarnishing of souls is one of his attributes.”

Again, Rayne looked at him boldly. “I know you don't trust or believe me, but I will tell you again that Prince Ciro is not my
sweetheart
.” She pursed her lips tightly. “Jiri said…” She stopped speaking and again pursed her lips. “Never mind. I'm wasting my time speaking to you. You're not going to believe anything I say, no matter how hard I try to convince you that I did not choose to be affiliated with Prince Ciro.”

“In a few days we will find a safe place for you, and I'm certain you will find many fine conversationalists there.”

She looked disappointed, though there was no reason for her to be disappointed in him. His obligation was to escort her, not to charm her with insightful conversation and ease her bedtime fears. Asking how one might go about tarnishing a pure soul did nothing to convince him that she was not willingly aligned with the enemy.

“You know much of Prince Ciro, it seems,” she said, and her eyes widened a little. “What can you tell me of my father?”

He could easily lie to her and tell her he knew nothing of the wizard. Until now it had been easy enough to avoid the subject, simply not telling her all that he knew. But Lyr did not tell falsehoods, not even to make his own life easier. If she had not asked, then he could not consider his silence a lie. But once the subject was broached, he had no choice.

“I was told by a powerful seer that the house where I was to collect the crystal dagger was once the home of a wizard who is now deceased. I'm sorry.”

Tears filled her eyes, but did not fall. “Do you know who killed him?”

“No.”

“It wasn't…you, was it?”

“No. From what Keelia said, I believe your father was killed before I even knew of this battle.”

Rayne's head dropped. “I'm not surprised to hear that he's dead,” she whispered. “My father was doomed from the moment he involved himself with Prince Ciro.”

“Are you similarly doomed?” Lyr asked without kindness.

This time when Rayne looked into his eyes, tears ran down her cheeks. “Yes, I believe I am. If Ciro is as powerful as Jiri claimed him to be, then there's nowhere I can hide that he won't find me. If he wants me badly enough, then there is no safe place.”

So, that was her game. She wouldn't be satisfied to be deposited at a farmhouse or a small village. She was going to claim that there was no safe place for her, and therefore in order to fulfill his part of the bargain, he would have to keep her with him.

Pretty as she was, vulnerable as she seemed to be at the moment, that was impossible. The sooner he was rid of her, the better. “Then you'd best hope that this dagger does what it's supposed to do. If that is the case, you won't have to worry about the prince's intentions much longer.”

By the light of the fire, her eyes became livelier. “The crystal dagger is to take Ciro's life?”

“Yes.” He watched her for some reaction, and saw only apparent relief.

“I should not wish anyone dead, but when we're speaking of Prince Ciro, when it means an end…”

“Try again to sleep,” Lyr said when Rayne faltered. “I need a couple of hours myself. Morning will soon be here.”

“Yes. Yes of course.” She rose silently and returned to her bedroll, again settling down with her back to him. While she had boldly looked him in the eye more than once on this night, she did not do so again.