Second Stone (16 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

For such an old man, he walked excessively fast. Emariya hurried to keep up. Their quick pace prevented her from looking around as much as she would have liked as they passed through the palace hallways.

The first thing she did notice was just how light everything was. Several high, arched windows allowed the light to stream in both directly and after it was reflected off of the sea. The whitewashed walls also added to the overwhelming amount of light filtering throughout.

Elaborate mermaid statues guarded an entrance, accompanied by two heavily armored attendants. The statues each held spears angled to make a peak in front of the heavy golden toned doors.

Just before he pushed the doors open to usher her and Torian inside, the old man turned and looked Emariya in the eye. “I hope we’ll have a moment to speak when you are finished,” he said, pausing as if choosing his words carefully, “but for now, the master awaits.”

Emariya expected to find Rees Hendel himself waiting to offer them attendance, perhaps accompanied by his wife.

Instead, as she stepped through into the high ceilinged room, she found herself the object of numerous curious stares. Extravagantly clad citizens lined both sides of the grand hall, and each turned to watch her entrance.

From behind her, the man who had ushered them in announced their arrival. “His Highness, Prince Ahlen of Thalmas, and Lady Warren of Eltar.”

Wiping any sign of shock from her face, Emariya set her jaw and strode forward, keeping her sights set firmly on the man in the chair at the end of the plush blue carpet.

To call it anything other than a throne would have been an injustice. The back rose a few feet above its occupant’s head, and then curled back on itself, reminiscent of a snail’s shell. Monstrous scales had been carved over the entirety of the seat, giving the impression that her uncle sat perched upon a sea monster’s tail. Clawed feet added to the effect.

A woman Emariya assumed was her Aunt Celiah gripped Rees’s shoulder so forcefully that her fingers had turned white. Hendel’s face was expressionless, almost bored. The two guards on either side of him, on the other hand, shifted anxiously.

Emariya’s hands curled into fists at her sides. Slowly she forced herself to unfurl them. As soon as Emariya, Garith, and Torian were clear of the doors, rough hands gripped her arm. After crying out in surprise, she whipped her head to look at Torian, panic rampant in her eyes. Seeing that he and Garith had also been seized, she spun toward the guard holding her and shoved with all her might. “Do not touch me again,” she said through gritted teeth.

Speaking disdainfully down to her, the guard said, “You may not approach the master without invitation.” He reached for her again as she started forward once more.

“Consider me invited,” she said evenly.

A collective gasp rolled through all in attendance.

Suppressing a tiny smile of satisfaction, she locked her eyes at the front of the room. Well, she
had
wanted to make an impression. Someone in the crowd murmured, “She’s Lady Valencia come again.”

Rees Hendel boldly met her gaze as he flicked his hand, indicating his guards should stand down. Torian and Garith followed at her heels.

The closest guards moved nearer to Master Hendel as Emariya drew to a stop. Unfortunately, she was forced to look up at Hendel. Still, she thought she at least looked dignified as she gazed at the man sitting resolutely upon his throne while his wife squirmed like a fish behind him.

He waited in calculated silence for a long moment before speaking at last. His voice rumbled through the room, soft but ominous, like a roll of thunder accompanying a brewing storm. “Well? Is it your intention to manipulate the good people of Sheas Harbor, playing at our hearts with your resemblance to your mother? Will you try and win us over with words while your brother attempts to manipulate us with force?” he scoffed. “Have you come to demand your mother’s throne, then?”

Her answer might decide whether she and her companions were permitted to leave the palace alive. “My legs are weary from travel, Uncle. I’d happily sit in audience with you and rest, but no, I don’t believe the throne will be necessary as a seat.”

Hendel shook with laughter as a cautious grin spread across his face. “No doubt about it, you are Valencia’s daughter through and through.”

The rest of the citizens in attendance laughed with him, encouraged by seeing their dark-haired master relax at least slightly. Behind him, Celiah let out a sigh of relief.

Emariya waited until the room quieted. “I do have a demand.” The room tittered again.

“I’d expect no less. I doubt the prince drags his army through two lands just to have tea.” Rees cocked an eyebrow like Emariya had seen her brother do when he was amused.

“Release my father. Let him go free, and we will be on our way.” Mentioning her father caused Emariya’s voice to break. She struggled to keep calm. Was he here somewhere in the palace, or were the dungeons elsewhere?

Hendel’s eyes darkened. “Getting you out of my hair will be no issue, should I desire it.” Emariya felt Torian and Garith close in protectively around her. “But freeing your father has nothing to do with me. Perhaps we should speak in private.”

“You would deny me my one simple request?” Emariya’s eyes flashed.

“You misunderstand. If you will retire with me to my solar—”

Emariya crossed her arms in front of her chest, frowning. “No, let all hear what the great Master Hendel has to say to the daughter of Valencia Roth!”

Concern briefly touched her uncle’s eyes before he settled against the back of his throne, one hand lightly resting on his cocked knee. He muttered something unintelligible under his breath. “Why did you come here thinking it was I that could secure his freedom?”

Emariya paused, hoping to keep the truth from her face. She and Torian had agreed to proceed as if they believed Khane to still be back at Castle Ahlen. After all, he had hopefully been recaptured by this time. “We have detained Alrec Roth’s son, Khane. We are willing to make a trade. Surely we must be able to negotiate something adequate for the satisfaction of both Thalmas and Sheas?” She tried to keep the begging tone out of her voice. She shook her head, trying to clear the fury that was slowly simmering inside. Torian’s steadying hand touched her shoulder, lending her his strength.

“And does she speak for both of you? Shouldn’t the crown prince of Thalmas be doing his own negotiations? Or do you hide behind the skirts of your bride-to-be now instead of your father’s crown?” Rees Hendel taunted, suddenly deflecting attention onto Torian.

Emariya bristled, ready to defend Torian, but he answered before she could.

“She’s quite capable of speaking for herself. Given that Sheas should
rightfully
belong to her before you, I think her leading our negotiations is only fitting. But make no mistake: she carries behind her the full weight of Thalmas. You can either give her what she wants, or I will take it for her.”

The guards to either side of Hendel touched their hands to their sword hilts, ready to defend their master at the slightest command. Torian continued, ignoring the guards, “Luckily for you, she doesn’t want your throne, just her father. Seems to me you are getting quite a bargain.” Torian took a step back and motioned for Garith to do the same.

Emariya, left standing visibly in the lead, squared her shoulders and waited for her uncle’s response.

“It is only a bargain if I can pay the price,” Hendel said, a strange and almost sympathetic edge to his voice that didn’t match his words. “And unfortunately, I cannot. It would be impossible for me to give you that which I don’t have.”

Emariya’s head swam and she felt her legs begin to falter. She was too late. Torian and Garith rushed forward, holding her up. It was no use trying to choke back her tears; they flowed freely down her cheeks. “What was his crime? Loving my mother, your niece? For that you had him put to death?”

Celiah whispered something to her husband. Rees shook his head and his wife pursed her lips in a tight frown.

“Was it simply being on your land, then, that brought his end? Will we share his fate? If so, end my suffering now!” Emariya screamed. She jerked away from Torian and Garith, rushing at Rees Hendel in the throes of the rage boiling molten within her.

Rees Hendel shot to his feet, a murderous glare in his eyes. He caught her by the arms, holding her forcibly away from him even as his guards closed in, swords drawn. From behind her, Torian yelled out.

Hendel shoved her forcefully away from him and she tumbled, landing at Torian and Garith’s feet. They helped her up, but did not release her. Trembling, she peered intently at her uncle, trying to understand. Why had he not killed her?

“Are you that blind, child? Open your eyes.” Her uncle looked at her with a mix of pity and concern, but his eyes were devoid of the contempt she expected.

Emariya stared at him, blinking rapidly. She didn’t understand.

“I refused audience with your father, afraid my temper might get the best of me if I saw him. I sent him away.”

The noblemen and women crowding the room all murmured amongst themselves, sending a hum through the room.

“But—”

Emariya’s uncle interrupted her. “What would I have to gain by imprisoning your father? He’s nothing to me.”

Confused thoughts jumbled through her head, careening back and forth as she tried to make sense of the cacophony. She bristled as the words that her father meant nothing infiltrated her confusion.

Torian whispered in her ear, “Steady yourself.”

“Can you not see it? Who would have anything to gain by getting your father out of the way?”

Emariya sank to her knees.
Oh, Reeve, what have you done?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Rees ordered the room to be cleared of commoners. Emariya could feel the onlooker’s eyes on her as they filed out. Perhaps her uncle’s offer of privacy had been for the best.

No sooner had she decided as much, Rees stood. “I’m afraid I must cut this short, I’ve a meeting with my war council. Afterward, perhaps we can visit. You’ve traveled far; you’ll stay in the palace tonight as our guests.”

Celiah stepped forward. “You didn’t tell us your name, dear.” Her voice was soft and melodic. She was younger than her brother, Kahl, but shared his pale gray hair, and of course she sported the Roth blue eyes.

Her thoughts lingered on her uncle’s words. ‘War council.’ How could she stop him from marching on her homeland? Finding no immediate answers, Emariya looked up as tears pooled under her lashes and answered her aunt’s question. “Emariya. Emariya Warren.”

Celiah’s smile, much like Emariya’s own mother’s, would have instantly put her at ease were it under any other circumstance. “I didn’t know Valencia had a daughter. Your mother was very dear to me—to all of us, really. Seeing you, it’s like seeing her come home.” Celiah’s voice hitched in her throat. “You are of course free to come and go as you please, but do consider staying for as long as you’d like.”

Emariya glanced at Torian and Celiah followed her gaze. “I apologize, Prince Ahlen. Where are my manners? Your men—all of you—are welcome here.” She bowed and Torian’s stiff shoulders relaxed a bit.

“We’ve three prisoners with us. We engaged in battle with a group calling themselves the Separatists not far past the Thalmas border. From what we understand, it was they who killed Valencia Warren. I know you’ve held Eltar accountable to it for years, but they were not at fault.”

“We’ve had our own skirmishes with them.” Rees gestured to one of the guards. “Send someone to collect their prisoners. See their men housed in our barracks.” His gaze sought Emariya for a moment. “Send several of their men to the guest wing. I am sure His and Her Highness would feel more at ease within our palace walls escorted by their own men instead of ours.”

Garith stepped forward. “If it is all right, I will go with your men to help facilitate the exchange and to select the guards to come into the palace for duty.” He gave Emariya a quick glance. “Will you be all right?” he asked quietly.

Emariya gave him a tiny nod. She’d manage, somehow. Her mind was still racing with thoughts of her brother. She’d traveled through two lands in search of her father, only to find that he was back where she’d started. Belatedly, she realized she was still sitting on the floor and the guards lingering in the great room were staring. Struggling to her feet, she pasted on her most reassuring smile.

“Thank you for your hospitality. We’d be honored to spend the evening to rest and rejuvenate.” She paused before adding sincerely, “I’d also like the chance to learn more about my mother’s people. About
my
people.”

“I’ll send in Jessa,” Garith told her before he followed Hendel’s guard out of the room.

Hendel himself strode out directly behind Garith after a parting promise that he would speak with her later.

“If you won’t think it too improper of me, I’ll show you to the guest suite myself.” Hope colored Celiah’s smile.

“Of course, that would be most kind.” Emariya, leaning heavily on Torian’s arm, followed her aunt out of the hall.

“Why is Master Hendel calling a war council?” Torian asked as they walked.

Celiah looked nervously at Emariya before she answered, “Her brother has been causing…issues…near the border. I’m afraid that now that he knows Reeve intentionally unseated Oren from Eltar’s Great Council, it may put things in a new light. You’d have to ask Rees to be sure, though. I really don’t have much of a head for these things—that’s why Rees leads, not I.”

“So it was as I thought then—succession really can pass through the female line in Sheas?”

Emariya startled at Torian’s words. It had never occurred to her, but she supposed it must be, since everyone had commented that Sheas would have passed to her mother.

“It can, yes. Generally, lead passes to the eldest child of the current ruler, upon their death. Unless…” She pressed her lips together, and Emariya suspected she would say no more on the subject.

“Do you know how to use the gift of the Roths?” Emariya asked, her voice low and tentative.

“Why, of course, can you not?” Celiah stopped outside a door at the end of a long passageway.

Blushing, Emariya looked down at her feet.

“I see.” Celiah made a tsking sound deep in her throat. “Well, we will have to work on that while you are here.” Pushing open the door, she stepped aside, affording Emariya a view of the interior of the suite. “I’ll have a maid bring in your things. You and your attendants will have the wing to yourselves. Please make yourselves at home.”

As her eyes slowly took in the lavish room, Emariya suddenly realized just how exhausted she was. The same high, arched windows spanned the entire wall of the central room, letting in the early afternoon light. Plush chairs were grouped throughout, with a smoldering hearth leaving the room comfortably warm, despite the breeze coming through the windows. A pair of doors on each side of the room likely led to private chambers.

Turning to thank her aunt, Emariya was surprised when the woman caught her up in a quick hug. “Will you join me for supper, perhaps after you’ve had a chance to refresh yourselves?”

“We’d be delighted to,” Torian answered.

“Wonderful!” Celiah clasped her hands together. “I’ll have servants see to filling a washbasin, and they’ll clean your things, too, of course. Someone will fetch you for supper.”

“Will Master Hendel be joining us, as well?” Torian asked.

Her face darkening slightly, Celiah shrugged. “I’m not sure; perhaps.” With an apologetic smile, she excused herself, leaving Torian and Emariya alone.

The door had barely thudded shut before they were in each other’s arms. Torian kissed her desperately, as if trying to chase his anguish away. “Don’t scare me like that again,” he whispered into her hair. “When you darted at him, I was trying to figure out how many guards I was going to have to kill to free you. Pretty sure Garith was making the same calculations.”

Emariya closed her eyes, leaning into his embrace. “I’m sorry, I was just so mad! I guess I sort of got carried away.”

“They might have killed you.”

“I knew that when I did it.” She turned her eyes to his while she flushed in embarrassment. “All I could think of was that he’d killed my father and I didn’t care if I died, too, I just wanted to throttle him.”

Torian paled. “But Riya, I need you. If you were gone… Please don’t ever do that again.”

She immediately felt guilty for not considering what the effect would have been on Torian had her uncle’s guards struck her down. “I’m sorry.” Reaching up, she touched the fine stubble on his jawline, letting her fingers brush against it. “Forgive me?”

“Always,” he vowed before kissing her again.

“So now what?” she asked him. “We were counting on my father’s help to free Terin.” Emariya began to drift around the room, looking at the little sculptures on the tables, the books with fine layers of dust covering their outer bindings, and the tiny, sweet smelling pots of scented oils.

“I don’t know.” Torian brushed his hair back off of his forehead. “How well defended will Warren’s Rest be?”

Emariya spun to face him, shock spreading across her face. Was he asking her how to attack her home? Belatedly, she realized he was right, and that her home was with him. Even with her father’s assistance, attacking might have proven necessary. She wondered if her father was still alive, waiting to be rescued, or if Reeve had killed him.

Deflated, she gazed out the window on the back wall. “I don’t know. I guess it depends on if he’s managed to call for assistance from the other estates. And how things are going at the fjord.”

A gentle knock came from the door. Torian ushered in several maids carrying wash buckets. Behind them, Garith and Jessa carried their packs.

Garith let out a low whistle as he caught sight of their suite. “We’ve a pair of guards stationed at both ends of this hall, so we should have warning before anyone approaches.”

“Just let them know we’re expecting a summons for supper at some point.” The maids ushered Torian to one of the adjoining chambers as Jessa and Emariya were herded toward one of the other doors. Succumbing to the enticement of the steam rising through the air, she didn’t resist.

Ever so slowly, the warm water chased away the chill of travel that had infiltrated her very bones. No matter how hard she scrubbed or how her newly clean skin glowed, it wouldn’t change the fact that ultimately, Russell’s blood was on her hands, but it felt better to no longer have it under her fingernails.

Once she deemed that she was as clean as she was going to get, she sank low in the water, letting it soothe her muscles and her mind.

As if the bath were instead a cauldron weaving its spell, she soaked, oblivious to the passage of time.

“Riya! Did you fall asleep?”

Emariya jerked upright as Jessa came back into the room. When had she left? Emariya squinted her eyes, looking around sheepishly.

Stifling a yawn, she nodded. “I think I must have. Sorry.”

“Well, here. I sent your other gowns down to be cleaned, but Lady Hendel sent something for you to wear.”

The gown was a bit big, but Jessa soon had her into it securely enough. As she joined them in the central room, she overheard Garith telling Torian, “Riya isn’t going to like it.”

“What won’t I like?” she asked.

Sitting in the chair opposite of Garith near the window, Torian looked up. An appreciative smile slipped across his face as he gazed at her.

“Go on, tell her.” Garith sat back in his chair, waiting.

“We were discussing our next move. From what Garith has told me, Warren’s Rest wasn’t expecting reinforcements ‘til spring.”

“Right. The snows in Eltar aren’t as bad as in Thalmas, but still, the estates won’t want to send large groups until the weather clears. The snow gets much deeper than in Thalmas on the open hills, and the drifts are positively dreadful. But even then, they will be reluctant. As soon as spring is fully upon us, it will be planting season. Why?”

“I know you were hoping to ask Master Hendel to withdraw from the fjord, but I think we need him to keep pressure on there.”

Emariya started to interrupt, but Torian spoke over her.

“If the threat at the fjord is ended, those men will return to Warren’s Rest. In our efforts to retrieve your father and Terin, we might have to face them. Wouldn’t it be better for them to wait at the fjord, especially if we can convince Hendel to wait, holding a presence but not attacking?”

She understood what he was saying. If they came to the defense of The Rest against them, lives would be lost. But it would all hinge on her uncle agreeing not to assault the fjord. In good conscience, she couldn’t condone the taking of her lands.

Emariya bit her lip. “I don’t know…” Her words trailed off.

Garith stood, moving closer to her. “I know you don’t like it, but I think Torian is right. I don’t want to have to fight the people we’ve lived beside our entire lives. Do you?”

“No.”

Her pained whisper brought Torian to his feet. “Riya, that’s a last resort. I don’t want to attack the people of Eltar. You know that, right?”

“There isn’t any other way, is there?” She wanted to scream, or argue, but even she could recognize it was no use. Rescuing her father and restoring him to the High Seat had been their only option to save Terin peacefully. After the battle on the plains, she’d hoped to never see another. Her wish looked like one that would remain unfilled. It would be cast aside as the na
ï
ve wish of one not obligated to lead two lands while sitting deep in the wolves’ den of the third.