Path of the Dark, page 16
part #3 of Light and Darkness Series
Elias raised a dark eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Will you tell them Ninia’s dead?” It was a bold question, but she needed to hide the fact that the sight of the leaguefort unnerved her.
She was about to enter enemy territory.
The prince’s mouth lifted at the edges. “Aye … it’s best for us both if everyone thinks that for the moment.” His gaze shadowed then. “My father will be easier to deal with if he doesn’t already know I’ve failed him.”
Again.
The word was unspoken, yet seemed to whisper in the humid early evening air.
They were nearing the iron gates now. A row of helmed Anthor guards stood before them. Their stance was aggressive, spears thrusting toward the newcomers. However, when some of the soldiers recognized the man striding toward them, they lowered their spears.
“Your Highness!”
Elias smiled and raised a hand in an unconsciously regal gesture.
Ryana’s tensed, misgiving fluttering in her belly. They were about to walk into his world—a world where, after his father, Elias of Anthor ruled.
The line of guards parted, and one of the men stepped up to the iron gates and pounded his fist upon it. “Open the gates … Prince Elias has returned!”
Elias walked through the tunnel and halted while his men raised the portcullis on the southern entrance and opened the gates. The garrison commander awaited him. Tall and rawboned, he was new to the post. Mira had killed the previous commander.
The man bowed low from the waist, leather armor creaking. “Your Highness … welcome. I’m Commander Aureliano.”
Elias acknowledged the man with a nod. “Good eve, commander. Have a room prepared in the fort. We’ll be staying overnight.”
“Aye, Your Highness.”
“Address me as ‘captain’,” Elias replied. “Save the formal titles for court.”
The commander’s face tightened in embarrassment. “Of course, captain.”
Elias’s attention shifted to the leaguefort that loomed over them. “You and the lads have done a good job rebuilding this,” he commented. “Last time I saw the fort, it was little more than a smoldering ruin.”
Commander Aureliano smiled, basking in the praise. “The men have worked hard. No one crosses the border without our say so.” His gaze searched Elias’s face then, his dark eyes burning with curiosity. “Your mission … was it successful?”
“Aye,” Elias replied, deliberately keeping his answer brusque. “I will deliver the news to my father in person.”
Commander Aureliano’s gaze moved past Elias then, focusing on the woman who stood silently a few feet behind him. “Who’s she?”
“My consort,” Elias replied, not bothering to even look in Ryana’s direction. “Ryana is an enchanter … she helped me escape The Royal City after I slew the princess.”
Elias heard Ryana’s swift intake of breath, her low hiss of outrage, and he bit back a smile. Revenge could take various forms. He’d enjoy this.
Elias moved past the commander and into the leaguefort’s watch tower through a set of heavy wooden doors. The scent of sawdust greeted him as his boots sank into a thick layer of it.
Wordlessly, Ryana followed him in.
The feasting hall was cavernous and lined with rough planks of timber. Heavy iron girders criss-crossed the high ceiling. A raised wooden platform sat at one end of the hall, where the commander and the highest ranking of his men took their meals. To the right, a wooden staircase wound its way to the upper levels of the tower.
Elias headed for the platform and the long table that sat upon it. He took a chair at one end and sank down, motioning to Ryana to take a seat to his right.
Her expression was pinched, her gaze narrowed, yet she obeyed.
The aroma of roasting venison wafted out of a nearby doorway, causing Elias’s belly to contract. He cast Ryana a deliberately careless smile. “That’s good timing … we’ve arrived just in time for supper.”
Ryana didn’t reply. She sat beside him, her posture stiff, her gaze watchful.
Men, some of the lower ranking guards, brought out jugs of ale and filled the commander and his guests’ cups first.
Commander Aureliano had joined them at the table, his attention riveted upon Elias. “The princess,” he began, his expression keen. “Did she give you any trouble, captain?”
Elias took a gulp of ale. “No … I crept up behind her and drew a blade across her throat.”
The commander nodded, his mouth curving.
More men appeared then, bearing platters of roast venison and unleavened bread. Elias’s belly ached at the sight of it. How he’d been looking forward to a proper meal. He didn’t want to answer the commander’s questions. He wanted to eat and drink.
Beside Elias, Ryana helped herself to a slice of venison and tore off a piece of bread. Her expression was still stony, although he knew she’d be as hungry as he was.
“You did well reaching the border, captain,” the commander continued, undaunted by the prince’s silence. “Didn’t they send a hunting party after you?”
Elias swallowed a mouthful of venison and nodded. “They did … but my enchanter here managed to cover our tracks.” He caught Ryana’s eye and winked. She stared back at him, high spots of color appearing on her cheeks. Elias resisted the urge to grin at her, before he glanced back at Commander Aureliano.
“Have your men prepare us a bath in our room and find us clean clothes,” he ordered. “We’ll also need horses ready for us tomorrow morning.”
“Certainly, captain,” the commander replied with a polite smile. “I shall see it done.”
Ryana followed Elias up the creaking stairs, glaring at his back.
He didn’t seem to notice or care.
She didn’t like being inside this leaguefort. Now that the men here thought she was the prince’s consort, she’d caught one or two of them leering at her.
The sooner they resumed their journey south, the better.
A guard led the way to the third floor of the watch tower, where he took them into a sparsely-furnished chamber. The air smelled of freshly milled wood, a fragrant scent that would have relaxed Ryana if she hadn’t been seething.
A large iron tub stood in the center of the floor. A privacy screen sat next to it.
Ryana’s gaze slid over the tub, going to the single sleeping pallet in the corner, where two piles of clean clothing sat. Hands clenching by her sides, she whipped round to face Elias. However, he had his back to her as he closed the door to the room.
With a click, he sealed them both inside before turning to her.
The bastard was grinning.
“My enchanter. My consort.” She spat out the words. “Was all that for my benefit?”
“No,” he replied smoothly. “It was for mine.”
“What?”
“I wanted to see the fury on your face.”
Ryana inhaled deeply, her hands balling at her sides. “Well, you’ve had your fun. Get them to prepare me my own room. I’m not staying here with you.”
“Sorry, Ryana,” he said in a tone that didn’t contain an ounce of contrition. “It’s important we keep up the pretense … otherwise folk will wonder why you’re traveling with me.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “This is going too far. I’m not bathing … or sleeping … in the same room as you.”
He shrugged and started to unlace his shirt. The once bright crimson was stained with dirt and sweat. Tearing it off, he reached for the laces of his breeches. “Well, if you don’t mind I’m going to bathe … I stink like a goat.”
Ryana backed away from him. The sight of his broad chest and the smattering of dark hair that arrowed down to his belly made her pulse race. “Undress behind the screen,” she snapped. “I don’t want to see this.”
He cast her a slow smile that challenged that assertion, but did as bid, moving to the steaming tub and pulling the screen across so that he was concealed from view. Moments later she heard him sigh as he sank into the water.
Ryana stood by the doorway, tension rippling through her.
His behavior was deliberately goading.
Ever since their confrontation that first evening out from The Royal City, they’d communicated little. Ryana hadn’t minded. It certainly made traveling together easier. She didn’t want to hear his excuses, or more lies. However, it seemed as if Elias had been biding his time till they reached the leaguefort. He’d wanted to embarrass her. He’d enjoyed it.
“This ruse isn’t necessary,” she grumbled, moving over to a low stool and settling herself down on it. Her limbs ached, and her filthy tunic and leggings itched her skin. Ryana wrinkled her nose. She too badly needed to bathe. “You could have come up with a different excuse for my presence.”
Elias gave a soft laugh. “Aye … but this one suits me better.”
Ryana glowered at the screen. How had she ever let this man seduce her? He was obnoxious. And yet, as she heard splashes while he washed, images of his strong, naked body flashed into her mind. The way that body had slid against hers, the feel of his sculpted muscles under her questing fingertips, tortured her.
Swallowing hard, Ryana squeezed her eyes shut, banishing the heated thoughts.
It was lust, pure and simple—the reason why she’d fallen under his spell. It had tricked her into believing she had feelings for this man. Even now, when she knew him to be a liar, her body still responded to him.
Tears pricked the back of her eyelids, and Ryana drew in a long, shuddering breath. After Gael, she’d thought she was wiser when it came to men. But this mess had taught her the opposite was true. She’d let herself be drawn into Elias’s web once, but she wouldn’t be taken in again.
Ryana glanced around the room. It might as well have been a cell; she was trapped in here.
A short while later Elias emerged from behind the screen. He was naked save for the drying cloth wrapped around his loins.
“The water’s still hot,” he informed her. His gaze slid over her sweat and travel-stained clothing. “I suggest you take advantage of it.”
Ryana rose to her feet. “Give me some privacy, and I’ll bathe.”
“As you wish.” Elias moved to the sleeping pallet, picked up a pile of clothing, and disappeared behind the screen once more. When he re-emerged, he was dressed in black leather breeches, a black silk shirt, and a black leather vest. The clothing made him look rakishly attractive. “I’ll be back shortly,” he promised before leaving her alone.
As soon as the door thudded shut behind him, Ryana breathed a soft curse. Shadows, how she loathed him. She bitterly regretted her decision to accompany him to Veldoras. She should have abandoned Elias on the other side of the border and returned to The Royal City.
Ryana huffed another curse. The promise of Gael had been too tempting.
Guilt gnawed at her then. It was her fault Gael had lived to cause more trouble. She had no idea how he’d managed to discover a way to safely wield Stynix, but if something wasn’t done, he’d throw The Four Kingdoms into chaos.
She should have ensured Gael was dead that day before the Ice Door. Instead, she’d been focused on ensuring that Lilia destroyed The King Breaker.
This was her mess, and she’d put it right.
Hands trembling, Ryana unbuckled her belt, pulled off her tunic, and removed her leggings. Then, she walked over to the tub, lowering herself in. The water indeed was still hot. Elias hadn’t spent long in there.
Grabbing a block of lye soap, Ryana started to scrub at her skin.
She wouldn’t think about Elias now—not when she was naked in the same bath water that had caressed his nakedness. She’d focus on getting clean. After that, she’d turn her attention to dealing with Gael.
Until then, she’d have to keep a close eye on Elias.
23
Shadows in the Woods
NINIA MADE HER way out of the encampment, seeking solitude.
A grey dusk settled over the vast Rithmar army. They were in the midst of the highlands, at the end of their first day out from the capital. Pine-clad peaks wreathed in mist surrounded them this evening. The scent of wood smoke filled the valley, and the rumble of male voices punctuated the dusk. Space was limited here in the highlands, so the army had made camp on the highway, its bulk spreading up the foothills either side.
Ninia wandered past soldiers lighting hearths and settling down to a supper of bread, dried meat, cheese, and apples. It was decent fare for camp rations, but later, when the bread grew stale, they would have to make do with twice-baked oatcakes for the rest of the campaign.
Few paid her any attention despite that they all would know who she was. Their focus, and conversation, was on the upcoming battles. First they would take the leaguefort that spanned the Royal Highway on the Rithmar-Thûn border, and then they would march south to Veldoras.
Rithmar would deal Anthor a hammer blow.
Ninia’s skin prickled at such talk. She’d never traveled with an army before. Aggression and excitement charged the air.
Strangely, she found herself enjoying it.
Slipping out of the perimeter, where soldiers were erecting a line of pitch torches, Ninia strode up a slope toward the tree line. A dark wall of conifers towered over her. She stopped a few feet away and fluttered the fingers of her left hand.
Until now, she’d always undertaken her daily training with Ryana at her side. It felt strange to practice alone. One or two of the other enchanters of the Dark had offered to train with her, but Ninia had declined.
She wouldn’t be with the Order for much longer—she needed to start training alone.
The reminder that her new life in Rithmar as an enchanter was coming to an end made Ninia’s chest constrict. Just a few brief months of freedom. How she would miss it.
Ninia let her hand fall to her side as her thoughts turned inward.
She’d been so lonely, locked away in The Swallow Keep. Her parents had been overly protective of her, and when the queen had discovered her daughter’s abilities, she’d been paranoid her husband would learn of them.
Once you’re queen of Thûn, you make the rules. Asher’s words returned to her then. He’d been right, she wasn’t returning to her old life. If anything, the challenges before her were far greater than any she might have faced if she’d remained in Rithmar.
Enough of this. Ninia flexed the fingers of her left hand once more. Ryana would tell you off for letting your thoughts wander during practice.
The Star of Darkness burned in the center of her palm, as it always did when she summoned enchantment. Drawing in a slow breath, Ninia reached out her left hand toward the long shadows that stretched out from under the boughs of the trees before her.
The darkness shifted and moved away from the copse, rippling like dark oil over the ground. Whispering, chattering, the shadows slid toward her, pooling at Ninia’s feet.
She was just about to go through her drills when movement up ahead caught her eye.
Small, dark shapes flitted in and out of the trees. Their excited chatter drifted toward her.
Ninia went still.
Dusk Imps. She hadn’t seen any since leaving The Forest of the Fallen.
And as she watched, one of the imps stopped, its long whip-like tail snapping back and forth like an angry cat’s. Yellow eyes stared at her through the gloaming, unblinking.
Ninia stopped breathing. In the Dim Hold, an entire host of shadow creatures had knelt before her and called her their queen. But that had been months ago. Out here in the wild, they might not even recognize her, or care.
A heartbeat later the Dusk Imp gave a high-pitched yip and bounded forward, following its companions into the shadows.
Returning to the camp, Ninia was introspective. She thought shadow creatures kept well away from folk these days, especially after their defeat in the north.
I must alert Asher to their presence.
Making her way into the center of the encampment, she headed to where the Order had pitched their tents for the night. The rumble of men’s voices surrounded her, and like earlier she caught snatches of conversation.
“Anthor won’t know what hit them.”
“We’ll free Thûn.”
“We’ll send those southern bastards home.”
Ninia’s breathing quickened as she listened, and she momentarily forgot about the shadow creatures. It was all becoming real now. She could almost taste the men’s eagerness. Nathan had whipped them into a frenzy.
Ninia’s mouth curved into a rueful smile. Despite the fact that she resented Nathan’s heavy-handed approach with her, she had to admit he knew how to lead. These men weren’t just fighting for him, but for justice.
Continuing on, Ninia headed toward the enchanters’ tents. Nathan and his King’s Guard had camped in the heart of the encampment, with the enchanters flanking him. The Royal City company formed the next ring, while the rest of the companies—soldiers from Orin, Errad, Idriss, and the Western Cradle—spiraled out toward the perimeter.
In the midst of the enchanters’ enclosure, Mira was lighting a fire. She stood before the High Enchanter’s tent, a large conical structure with a stag’s head flag hanging from the center pole.
Mira glanced up at Ninia’s arrival and raised her eyebrows. “Where have you been?”
Ninia forced down an irritated sigh. Old habits died hard it seemed. Mira sometimes forgot that she was no longer her protector. Even so, it wasn’t something to get surly over. “Practicing the Dark.”
Mira accepted her answer with a tired smile. “I was going to break open a skin of ale. Do you want a cup?”
“Aye, thank you.” Ninia sat down upon one of the leather packs that had been dumped outside the tents. Her throat was dry after a long day’s travel.
“This reminds me of the old days,” Mira said, handing her a cup. “On the road together.”
“Aye, Nelly and Melinda,” Ninia replied with a snort. “I think you enjoyed posing as my bossy aunt.”
