The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 4 The Blessed Curse (16 page)

It had been two weeks since they had brought
her here and nearly as long since she had been allowed outside. She
couldn’t blame them, though. Someone obviously spent a great deal
of effort maintaining the grounds surrounding the house, and it was
doubtful that they wanted to risk her killing off the flowers with
her presence.

“Why don’t you just run away?” a deep voice
whispered beside her ear.

The sound nearly made her jump, but she
forced herself to remain still so she didn’t spook him. When she
jumped at his voice he would stay silent for days, and he was the
only one she had to talk to. Despite the fact that she was the one
that usually did the most talking. Still it helped to know someone
was actually listening. He was typically silent for most of the day
unless she asked him a direct question. He would answer her then,
unless she had jumped at the sound of his voice recently.

“Where would I go if I did?” Zoelyn asked
softly, though even as she said the words her eyes were traveling
to the southeast. Her home with Dominic was in that direction in a
small village filled with people that despised her. A rueful smile
crossed her lips and she returned her attention to the night sky.
The stars were bright tonight and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. It
was the perfect night for a walk, only she wasn’t allowed to take
walks anymore.

“Away from their walls,” the voice
suggested.

Zoelyn frowned and relaxed more in her chair
to slump fully against the window. “I hate thinking of you as just
him
or the
Blight
. Why won’t you tell me your name?
You know mine.”

“I am Undrae, just like you. Call me that.”
The Blight’s voice never grew louder than a whisper and there were
times she nearly lost his words in the wind.

“I hate that word. I won’t call you that,”
Zoelyn replied, her frown deepening. She started to say more but
the sound of footsteps in the hall silenced her voice in her
throat. Slowly she stood up and turned to face the door, her head
cocking to one side as she listened closely for the direction of
the sound. “They never come this late,” she whispered more to
herself than to the Blight as she realized the footsteps were
indeed approaching her door. Her gaze flicked to the half-eaten
tray of food on her table and then back to the door once more.

The servants had set schedules that they
never strayed from. In the morning a maid would appear with
breakfast then tidy her room and take away the dinner from the
night before. There would be another servant in the afternoon with
lunch, usually a page boy that stared at her with wide eyes and ran
the moment he sat the tray down. Then the evening would bring the
last of her company in the form of an elderly woman who had yet to
even say hello.

“Out the window,” the Blight hissed but the
door was opening even as he spoke the words.

Zoelyn froze in place, her heart in her
throat, as she watched a guard step into the room. The woman was
dressed in the High Lord’s livery and fully armed. The guard
glanced around the room with a bit of a puzzled expression and then
her eyes settled on Zoelyn. “Were you talking just now?” she asked
with a frown.

“To myself,” Zoelyn replied with a shy smile.
“It gets lonely in here sometimes. I repeat poetry or stories to
keep myself entertained.” The lie seemed to appease the woman and
she simply nodded in response, her frown fading to a look of
indifference.

“I was sent to fetch you. Lord Arovan says
you are to bring your things and come with me at once,” the guard
informed her with another quick glance around the room. “Though
from the looks of things you don’t have much in the way of things
to bring, now do you?”

“Only my coat,” Zoelyn replied as she moved
to gather the heavy leather coat from the foot of her bed. “Can I
ask where you are taking me?” Her voice was hesitant and the
Blight’s suggestion of jumping out the window was sounding better
and better.

“Lord Arovan said to bring you, girl. I
didn’t question why. Now, follow me,” the guard replied in a
sharper tone and Zoelyn found herself moving to follow before she
fully registered what she was doing.

“Should have jumped,” the Blight whispered in
her ear and Zoelyn smiled in response as she followed the guard
down the long stone hallway. While she didn’t know her way around
the house well, she was positive they were heading for the entry
hall. It was hard to tell, though, the Arovan house was enormous
compared to Dominic’s small three room cottage. Still, from the
direction they were going it was unlikely that she was being taken
to the dungeons, or worse, and honestly she couldn’t think of a
single reason Lord Arovan would do either. She had been careful to
be on perfect behavior her entire time in his house and had not
complained once over anything.

Her curiosity grew stronger as the guard led
her through door after door and finally down the long hallway that
led to the front doors. There was no longer any doubt in Zoelyn’s
mind that they were headed toward the doors. She recognized the
suits of armor and paintings of the Arovan ancestors that lined the
walls from her arrival at the House.

“Here she is.” Lord Arovan’s voice echoed
down the hall and Zoelyn peered around the guard to see who he was
speaking with. A woman stood to his side and just the sight of her
gave Zoelyn pause. She was radiant in a gown of deep purple and
more jewels than Zoelyn had ever glimpsed on anyone. Her deep
violet eyes settled on Zoelyn and a faint smile curved her full
lips, transforming her from beautiful to breathtaking in less than
a moment. A handsome silver haired man stood beside her, dressed in
purple and silver armor and it was a long moment before Zoelyn
recognized the man. He had been there the night Lord Arovan had
taken her from Dominic. In fact, he was the reason that she had
been taken at all. Valor Hai’dia. The name formed in her mind as
the memories resurfaced. He had been so distraught that night that
it was hard to believe the pleasantly smiling man before her was
the same person, but she knew without a doubt it was.

“Zoelyn, this is Lady Merrodin. You will be
leaving with her,” Lord Arovan informed her calmly and bowed his
head to the woman. “If you will excuse me now, Jala, I have a room
full of very disgruntled High Lords to attempt to soothe.”

“I’m sorry for the trouble Elijah. I hope in
time you will understand why I did what I felt had to be done,” The
woman’s voice was gentle and just the sound of it eased Zoelyn’s
mind a bit.

Still the idea that Lord Arovan had offered
her the protection of his house and then not even a month later was
handing her over to a complete stranger had her nerves so far on
edge that she was ready to bolt. “Why am I going with you?” Zoelyn
asked cautiously, her gaze flicking to the guard that was already
disappearing back down the hallway.

“Because I don’t believe in Undrae by birth
as everyone else seems to. Valor explained your plight to me and I
think that perhaps I can help you. At the very least I can offer
you a home where you won’t get stoned for slipping in a streambed,”
Jala explained, as she looked Zoelyn over with a critical eye. Her
gaze lingered on the hood of the coat that Zoelyn had pulled up as
she always did around strangers. “I can give you a home where you
don’t have to hide yourself, either,” Jala added in a softer voice.
Jala’s attention was drawn away by a tug at her dress and Zoelyn
stared in amazement at the tiny boy that had been standing just
behind the High Lady. She hadn’t even noticed the child was present
until that moment, but then the two in front of her were an
impressive sight and it was hard to look away from either of them.
“I know, love, I’m ready to go home, too,” Jala said gently as she
picked the child up carefully and wrapped an arm lovingly around
him.

“I’m more than ready to be home and out of
this armor. It never used to bother me before, but now I can’t wait
to get out of it. Too much time on a battlefield I suppose,” Valor
sighed as he pushed the door open behind him. His dark blue eyes
closed as the night air washed through the hall and he smiled back
at Jala. “We need lilacs in Merro. There is nothing that says
spring like the smell of lilacs.”

Jala smiled in response and kissed him
lightly on the lips as she walked through the doors. Glancing back,
Valor raised an eyebrow at Zoelyn who had been watching them in
utter silence. “Coming?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Do I have a choice?” Zoelyn asked carefully.
They seemed nice, but they were strangers and she didn’t trust so
much kindness from anyone, especially strangers.

“At the moment, no. You will soon, though,”
Valor replied with a smirk. “What does that mean?” Zoelyn asked in
confusion.

“That means if you don’t come along willingly
now I will be forced to carry you to the ship which I’d rather not
do. It isn’t dignified for either of us. However, once we know each
other better, you will be given a choice on staying with us. If you
hate our company, once you get to know us, I promise you, Jala will
not force you to stay. You aren’t our prisoner right now. Just a
slightly unwilling guest,” Valor explained with a grin.

“What exactly is the difference between an
unwilling guest and a prisoner?” Zoelyn asked, though she had to
admit she was amused by his words.

“Ahh. That all lies in the accommodations and
provisions. You see, a prisoner resides in the dungeons and you
will receive a room in our house. A prisoner gets bread and water.
You will get bread, water, and cheese,” Valor winked at her and she
could hear faint laughter from beyond the door.

“Valor, stop teasing her and come on, Shade
is waiting on us. Zoelyn, I promise you will get more than bread,
water, and cheese,” Jala called back with amusement clear in her
voice.

“Well, then, I suppose I’m your unwilling
guest. After all, how could I refuse such a generous offer?” Zoelyn
sighed and stepped lightly past him and down the stairs. Her eyes
wandered to the stables and her chest tightened as she thought of
the tall bay mare that she rode to House Arovan. Her horse and she
didn’t even know if it was still stabled. They hadn’t let her out
of the house to visit the mare once since she had arrived. For all
she knew they had sent the animal back to Dominic.

“I recognize that expression and the
direction you are looking. Which one is it?” Valor paused beside
her as he spoke, his gaze moving to the stables as well.

“I don’t even know if she is there anymore,”
Zoelyn replied hesitantly.

“Well, it’s a mare. We have established that
much. Want to tell me the rest of the description or would you
rather just walk with me to the stable?” Valor pressed.

“I don’t know if she is still mine now,”
Zoelyn frowned and glanced back at the house. Valor nodded silently
and tapped his fingers on his armored leg as he waited patiently
for her to elaborate further. “She was a bay mare fifteen hands at
the shoulder at least. Light cavalry in build with white scars on
her haunches from claws,” Zoelyn added quietly as she realized he
had no intention of leaving without checking the stables.

“Good description. She should be easy to
locate. I doubt there are many light built horses with scars in
Elijah’s stable. Head on over to the Spell Hawk and I will have a
look for her and a chat with the stable master,” He motioned toward
the ship with one hand and was already striding away before she had
a chance to open her mouth again.

“But I can’t get on a Spell Hawk,” Zoelyn
mumbled with a sigh as she turned back to stare at the ship.

“Zoelyn, come on please,” Jala called as she
leaned out from the door of the ship and motioned with a delicate
hand.

“It’s magic, Lady Merrodin. I can’t touch
it,” Zoelyn called back as loudly as she dared. Her eyes scanned
the area around them nervously. There had been whispers about her
when she had arrived of course, but she didn’t think Lord Arovan
had told anyone the complete truth about her condition, and it
wasn’t a topic she wanted to yell about.

“Nonsense, come on please,” Jala repeated and
motioned for her to approach once more.

“Well you asked for your ship to be
destroyed,” Zoelyn muttered under her breath as she nodded and
began walking slowly toward the Spell Hawk. She hadn’t seen many of
the ships in her lifetime, but this was definitely the plainest of
the few she had glimpsed. It didn’t even have paint on it, simply
the dull grey of the metal it was forged from.

“Why is she balking at getting on my ship?” a
man’s voice echoed from inside the ship as Zoelyn paused near the
stairs.

“Consider her living Barllen, Shade. She is
afraid of damaging your ship with her presence,” Jala explained
with a faint smile down at Zoelyn. “She is wearing lead on her
shoes, though. I can see the plates. If she doesn’t touch the metal
directly there won’t be a problem will there?” “Hell, I’ve flown
with Barllen on the outside of my ship. I don’t see what the
problem with it being inside will be. Where did Valor go?” the man
grumbled.

“To the stables to see about my horse,”
Zoelyn explained softly as she stepped cautiously into the ship.
The metal plates on the bottom of her boots clacked loudly against
the ship floor and she froze in mid-step. Her eyes searched the
floor looking for the quietest path to one of the chairs, but it
was hopeless. The entire ship was metal without a single rug or
carpet in sight.

“Those boots will have to go,” Jala announced
with a faint nod. “They must be horrible to wear with that much
lead on the bottom of them. Ten pounds each from the look of
them.”

“They aren’t so bad,” Zoelyn replied quietly.
wondering how she was going to explain to this woman that without
the boots she would leech life from the earth itself. That would
have to be a later conversation she decided as she crossed as
quickly as she could to one of the corner seats and sat down
carefully to avoid the walls.