Five Lands Saga Box Set 1 (Five Lands Saga Box Sets), page 53
“Saara refuses to come with us. She won’t leave Tir Neren.” He kept his voice low. While he couldn’t speak Tirostaari, there was a good chance some of the servants lurking nearby spoke Sevairnese.
Perchaya frowned. “Doesn’t she realize we need her?”
“Yes, she knows. She just doesn’t care. She’s got her power now, and the rest of the world can deal with Diamis themselves.” He sighed. He was being technically unfair. “She has magnanimously agreed to meet us when we’re ready to return to Peldenar to take the stones to Maldorath’s seal. But not before.”
Perchaya scrubbed at her forehead. “I was worried about that. I understand what she’s thinking. It would be hard for her to leave now. It’s a lot of responsibility all at once.”
“Talia would rule in her stead. People would accept her, better than Saara, even.”
“That’s probably what Saara’s afraid of. Talia supports her now, but after she gets comfortable ruling . . .”
Perchaya had a point, but Kenton wouldn’t concede that Saara did. “Instead, she’ll play politics and create a nice, stable country just in time for Maldorath to bleed it dry,” he said. “Literally.”
“I know. I agree with you. There has to be some way to convince her of how important the remainder of the journey is. For Tirostaar, if nothing else.”
Kenton rolled his eyes. “Convince her? While we’re at it, let’s convince Diamis to give up.”
Perchaya’s eyes glinted in amusement. “So your alternate plan would be something along the lines of dragging her bound and gagged back to the mainland?”
Kenton smiled again, despite himself. “Well, I hadn’t thought of the gag, but now that you mention it . . .”
Perchaya put a hand on his arm. “We’ll be all right. Saara can stay here, and as long as she’s willing to meet us in Peldenar when we’re ready, we can continue without her.”
It sounded more reasonable when Perchaya said it. And she was right. Saara couldn’t be allowed to stop them. They would continue.
“I just hope the others see it that way,” he said. “It’s them Saara is really betraying.”
Perchaya nodded. “I’ll talk to them. We need to begin preparations to leave for the mainland anyway.”
But as Kenton watched her go, he realized there was one more conversation he needed to have first.
Kenton found Jaeme in the armory, admiring a set of leather armor painted with intricate flame designs nearly as complex as the fires of Nerendal himself. The armor was beautiful, but clearly fitted for a woman. Probably Saara, Kenton realized. Or rather Aiyen, who until recently had been queen.
“I doubt you’ll find anything in here that will fit you,” Kenton said. The guards of the palace—along with the rest of the fighting class of Tirostaar—were female.
Jaeme smiled. “I don’t suppose Saara can bring this armor with her,” he said. “Too ostentatious? We are supposed to be traveling in secret.”
Might as well get it out now. “Saara isn’t coming. She wants to stay to rule Tirostaar.” Kenton took a deep breath, and without giving Jaeme time to react to that news, he continued. “And we need to leave Daniella here with her.”
Jaeme’s face turned hard. “Did you bother to ask Daniella if that’s what she wants?”
Kenton shook his head. It didn’t matter what Daniella wanted, didn’t change what needed to be done. “You saw what she did in the throne room. The way she killed all those people—”
Jaeme’s hands tightened into fists. “You killed a few yourself, if I’m not mistaken.”
Kenton had cut down more than his share, but Daniella had clearly not been in control when her pulse of blood magic liquefied the guards around her, leaving Jaeme and Kenton on the fringes with nosebleeds and internal bruising. It was only by luck that Perchaya had survived—protected from blood magic by her Drimmish ring.
“If she feels her life is threatened, it could happen again,” Kenton said. “This time it could be you who gets killed. Or Sayvil. Or Nikaenor. And then what would we do?” They’d be left searching for the new bearer, giving Diamis more time to track down Kenton and Perchaya and complete the ritual to release Maldorath.
But much as Kenton wanted to be mercenary about it, he had to admit he was concerned about their lives, in addition to the logistics.
“Well,” Jaeme said, “being around you hasn’t exactly kept us out of danger, has it? Maybe we’d fare better if we left you with Saara. Gods know we’d have fewer headaches.”
Kenton ignored the dig. There were more important things at stake. “Diamis is our enemy. I know Daniella doesn’t mean us harm, but traveling around with his weapon, we’re just asking for—”
Jaeme’s eyes narrowed, and he spoke through his teeth. “That is the last time you get to call her that.”
“The weapon?” Kenton kept his voice even, but the anger building in him matched Jaeme’s own. “That’s what she is. I know it’s not her fault, but—”
“That’s right. It’s not her fault. And she’s not staying behind unless she chooses to. And if she does”—Jaeme’s mouth curved into a tight smile, as if he enjoyed this part—“I’m staying with her.”
Kenton barely managed to stifle a groan. May the gods save them all from belligerent chosen. “Jaeme,” Kenton said. “Diamis wants us dead. There are incredibly powerful blood mages out there, not to mention whole armies whose sole purpose is now going to be to stop us. To put our heads on pikes in Peldenar Square. If they succeed with even one of the bearers, killing even one of you, then we’ll all be delayed in our course. Delay too much and Diamis wins, and all the takeovers, all the wars and death he’s brought to the Five Lands will be like a pleasant memory compared to what Maldorath’s going to do. To your family, to your friends. And like it or not, Daniella is somehow a part of it. By her own admission, she’s a weapon, and we can’t afford to pretend it’s not so.” Kenton shook his head, exasperated. “All hells, Jaeme. You saw what she can do.”
“I saw her in pain,” Jaeme said. “I saw her almost killed.”
“I know you have feelings for her,” Kenton said. “But you’re a bearer, just like they are. It’s time you remembered that and started worrying more about your part in saving the world than about your infatuation with the weapon that could end it.”
Jaeme drew himself up to his full height, facing Kenton. “Don’t you forget who the bearers are,” he said. “You need me. I don’t need you. I swear, if you don’t start treating Daniella like a human being, I will leave. And you’ll never, ever lay claim to the Earthstone.” With that, Jaeme stalked out of the room, leaving Kenton alone in silence.
“Wonderful,” he said to the painted armor.
Unlike the chosen, at least the armor had the good sense not to reply.
Two
When Perchaya came to get Jaeme, he was lying on his bed in his cabin of the ship they’d taken out of Pendarth, enjoying the complete absence of both Kenton and Nikaenor. The ship this time afforded separate rooms for each of them—a perk, Jaeme supposed, of being friends with the queen. But in the week they’d been aboard, the ship seemed to grow smaller and smaller, such that Jaeme preferred to remain in his cabin most of the time.
Except when he ventured out to spend time with Daniella.
Perchaya poked her head in after knocking. “We’re meeting on deck to discuss our next steps. Join us?”
Discussing pretty much anything with Kenton was high on his list of things he’d rather avoid. But he supposed Daniella would be there and being in her presence was always a privilege. She’d spent most of the previous day shut up in her rooms reading, and Jaeme wasn’t yet comfortable enough to try to visit her there. It wasn’t a consideration Jaeme was used to taking with women—one more way in which Daniella was different.
She was different in every way, it turned out.
Jaeme made himself stand to follow Perchaya above deck. The others were gathered in the aft of the ship, seated on wooden crates around a barrel covered in stale bread and hard cheese.
Daniella smiled at Jaeme as he approached, that gorgeous smile that always sent his pulse racing. He smiled back, but then she looked away, her long, curly red hair partially hiding her face. Such had gone most of their interactions since they’d kissed in the antechamber in Tir Neren. For Jaeme, that kiss had been the spark of something wonderful, something he wanted to hold onto as tight as he could. But the more time passed, the more he wondered if, for her, it had been more like a sunset—beautiful, but over just as quick.
There was an open seat on a wooden crate next to her, though, and she didn’t seem to mind when he sat there. Perhaps, he hoped, she’d been saving it for him.
Daniella nibbled at a piece of hard tack while Jaeme attempted to saw through the end of a loaf of bread. They’d been at sea for only a week, but already they’d run out of the good food they’d brought from Pendarth—thanks in large part to Nikaenor—and all that remained were their rations. Sayvil was using a small paring knife on the brick of cheese, and Jaeme hoped it wasn’t the same one she used to chop her various medicinal plants. Kenton watched with his arms crossed and a sour look on his face.
Really, that was just Kenton’s usual face. Jaeme found it hard to imagine what Kenton might look like when he was happy.
Next to Perchaya, Nikaenor leaned over the ship railing, looking in the direction of Tirostaar, even though the mountain had faded from view days ago. “Do you think Saara’s all right?” he asked. His normally bright, earnest expression had been sadder since they left. It had been obvious to all that Nikaenor had feelings beyond the bearer connection for the new Tirostaari queen, but Jaeme—and undoubtedly even Nikaenor—had little hope that anything romantic would happen between them. Saara might care for Nikaenor as a friend and fellow godbearer, but it was equally clear to all of them that her feelings ended there.
Ultimately, that was probably better for Nikaenor.
“I think she made her choice,” Kenton said. “And there was nothing to be done about it. We wasted enough time on that gods-forsaken island.”
Nikaenor frowned. “I wouldn’t say Tirostaar is gods-forsaken anymore, now that—”
“Figure of speech,” Kenton said.
“Still,” Sayvil said. “Feels wrong to have left her behind.” She followed Nikaenor’s gaze back to Tirostaar, her fingers toying at the end of her long, dark braid.
Jaeme knew what Sayvil meant. He also felt wrong, like he’d left something desperately important in Tir Neren. He wondered if that would fade the farther they got from Saara, but a part of him hoped it wouldn’t. Like it was important that the bearers remain connected.
Like their business together was still unfinished.
Nikaenor looked down at the hard biscuit in his hand. “At least Saara has decent food.”
“Don’t sound so excited about joining us,” Kenton said.
Nikaenor grimaced. “Don’t give me that look. I know I had to come with you. I’m next, right?”
“Unless the geography of the other four lands has changed in our absence,” Kenton said. “We’ll land in Foroclae and travel from there through Mortiche.”
Jaeme cringed. He was supposed to go back eventually, of course. His uncle would be impressed, thrilled even, that Jaeme was returning with Daniella, the very woman he’d been sent abroad to seduce.
But the plan had been that he would stay in Drepaine with her and perhaps return to Peldenar. The plan had not been to drag Daniella herself back to Grisham—they’d never imagined such a thing would be possible, though if the Dukes Council had known, they surely would have insisted on it.
It wasn’t failure that plagued Jaeme now, but success. He had fallen in love with Daniella, but everyone back in Grisham would expect that he was only pretending, and it was far too likely that someone would let slip the truth about his original plans.
He’d lose any chance he might have with her—and maybe any chance he might have to keep her safe.
“So,” Kenton said. “Even without Saara, you should all still be drawn to your stones.” He looked at each of them in turn. “Where are they pulling you? Where do you want to go?”
Sayvil spoke first. “East.”
Kenton rolled his eyes. “All of the mainland is east of where we are now.”
“And north,” Sayvil said. “And though you didn’t ask, yes, I also miss my husband and yes, I want to go back to Drepaine and see him.”
Kenton sighed, ignoring that bit. “Andronim is in the north. Can’t you be more specific?”
“Kenton . . .” Perchaya warned, tugging nervously at the fingers of her gloves. Kenton may not be able to recognize—or care—when he was beginning to seriously irk the very people he needed for his big quest, but she sure did.
“No,” Jaeme said. “She can’t. These stones may be gods, but they’re not what you might call helpful.”
“What about you?” Kenton asked him. “Feeling a call you want to answer?”
Jaeme took a deep breath and thought about it. Despite all that had happened, he still didn’t like the idea of being the bearer of Kotali. He’d felt the pull drawing him to Saara and Sayvil and Nikaenor, but even though he couldn’t deny it, he didn’t want it to be real.
But assuming it was, where did he feel pulled to?
Back to Saara, clearly. But also east, toward the mainland.
He missed his uncle. He missed Grisham. Though he had every reason not to want to be there, he missed his home.
“Grisham,” Jaeme said. “Home to the castle.”
“Home,” Kenton shook his head. “I can think of a few others besides the gods that I wouldn’t call helpful.” He turned to Nikaenor. “And you?”
Nikaenor looked miserable. “I want to go home, too. I miss my mum.” Perchaya placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Kenton, on the other hand, was turning red in the face, though he was managing to contain it better than usual. “All right,” Kenton said. “We can stay on the boat until we get to Ithale. It’s the last port in Foroclae, so hopefully you’ll get an inkling telling you where to go before we arrive there. If you don’t, we’ll get off the boat in your hometown and work from there.” He turned his glare on Jaeme. “After that, you’re up.”
“Be still my heart,” Jaeme said. He shouldn’t have taken pleasure in taunting Kenton, but somehow he always did.
Plus, there were some perks to returning to Mortiche, even if it might complicate things with Daniella. “If we find Mirilina quickly in Foroclae,” Jaeme said, “then we might make it to Grisham in time for the tournament. We’re hosting the big one this year. There’ll be lots to see.”
“Yes,” Kenton said. “Please let’s plan saving the world from Maldorath around sightseeing.”
Daniella, however, looked eagerly at Jaeme, those forest-green eyes of hers bright. “I’ve always wanted to attend one of those. Would you compete?”
“He’d be looking for his god,” Kenton said. “Not ninnying about with a bunch of teenage knights.”
The tournaments were mostly for the younger knights. At the age of eighteen they all took an errant year to travel to tournaments all over Mortiche—though that pursuit left plenty of time for drinking and whoring . . . and worse, depending on the honor of the knight in question.
But knights Jaeme’s own age still did occasionally enter. You didn’t even have to be a knight to compete—if you didn’t expect to win. “I don’t know, Kenton,” Jaeme said. “Wouldn’t you want to try your steel against a bunch of teen-aged ninnies? Seems like money for the taking, if that’s your assessment.”
Kenton glared. “I have more important things in mind than money. And so should you.”
Jaeme did. Tradition was that the winner of the tournament took a cash prize . . . or could forgo the prize and instead ask a noble lady—even one high above the winner’s station—for her hand in marriage. It was generally considered a very romantic, if showy, means of proposal. He looked at Daniella, his heart beating faster. She knew so much about Mortichean history. Was she aware of that? Was she making a suggestion?
“Regardless,” Kenton said. “It would be nice if we were in and out of Foroclae quickly, because we’ll be safer once we get to Mortiche.” He cocked his head at Jaeme. “Unless your country has fallen to Diamis since we’ve been overseas, of course.”
Jaeme shook his head. “My country might be full of assholes, but they’re stubborn assholes. Mortiche will still be standing against Diamis. When we get to Foroclae, I’ll write a letter and tell my uncle to expect us.”
“No,” Kenton said. “I don’t want anyone writing letters. Too much chance of information falling into the wrong hands. We still don’t know how Diamis found you all in Bothran, and once we get back to the mainland, we’ll no longer be out of reach.”
Daniella gave Jaeme a look, and he shook his head slightly, wishing she wouldn’t. She knew he’d already written to his uncle when they first arrived in Tirostaar. By the time they reached the mainland, his uncle would long since have received it.
No matter what Kenton thought, it was better that he write than have his uncle send a search party after him, especially when the last his uncle heard, Jaeme had been working on his mission to seduce Daniella.
Jaeme had to tell her; he knew that he did. But he also had enough sense to know that timing was everything. Kenton looked from Daniella to Jaeme and opened his mouth, no doubt to ask what the look was about, when Sayvil saved them.
“I’ve been writing my husband for months.” She narrowed her eyes at Kenton. “Are you going to accuse him of selling us out to Diamis?”
Kenton’s jaw set. Sayvil’s husband was part of the resistance group in Drepaine, but there seemed to be no limit to who Kenton would accuse of being dangerous.
