The Prince of Exiles (The Exile Series) (20 page)

“Indeed not,” the Elder said, shooting an amused smile at his two children. Leah shrugged, looking decidedly uncomfortable, but Davydd, to whom shame was a foreign word, spoke up.

“No offense, but as parents go I don’t think you’re the one to throw stones.”

Leah snorted with involuntary laughter before she remembered to be reserved and taciturn. Raven, encouraged by the man’s candor, decided to continue.

“I’m sorry if I come across as rude,” he said, “but how are they your children? The laws of the Kindred are confusing to me at best.”

“I never had children of my own,” Goldwyn said immediately, not appearing the slightest bit offended by the question. “I never married –”

“You never had the time for it,” Davydd said with a sardonic grin.

“Always had his head in a book,” Leah continued.

“And since I never married, I never had children,” Goldwyn said with a small smile, “and when these two came along … well, it is customary for children who are orphaned to be brought up by
all
of the Kindred. But these two … they were trouble makers. Most of the other Kindred couldn’t handle them properly.”

Davydd smiled like a cat being stroked, while Leah turned a little red – just a little, as if to show she could, but not enough to be truly embarrassed.

“So I petitioned the Elders, they approved, and I took them on myself. The first year was rough, particularly with what Leah had been through … though that is her story to tell, not mine.”

“He knows it,” Leah said quietly; she was staring into the fire now, her mind once again pulled away in the swirling tides of memory.

“Does he?” Goldwyn asked without expecting an answer, watching his daughter. She turned to him and the stony look melted and she smiled. He smiled back, and Raven felt something start to ache inside him. He lowered his eyes and tried to contain the sickly feeling; it was like anger, but with jealousy and resentment mixed in.

He’d never had a relationship like that, and he never would.

The silence lengthened and he looked up to see Goldwyn watching him, gray eyes reflecting the heat of the fire between them. Those eyes that pulled.

“I think,” the Elder said, “it is time for Raven and I to have a conversation.”

The others all looked up in surprise. They weren’t shocked, Raven realized – in fact, it seemed as if they’d all known this was coming, they just hadn’t expected it to come so soon.

“Already?” Davydd asked. He glanced at Raven. “I mean I know he’s pretty, but c’mon dad, don’t you wanna get to know him first?”

“Oh be gone,” Goldwyn said fondly, pushing Davydd away.

“Parental abuse,” Davydd said as he got up to leave, “parental abuse. Call the guards. Call them now. Parental abuse.”

“Hush!” Lorna growled, grabbing him in a headlock and towing him toward the house. Davydd let out a strangled noise that sounded like a laugh, and then they were back inside.

Leah and Tomaz stood slowly, both looking worried. Raven suddenly felt anxious; his palms began to sweat and his mouth was dry. What was going on here? What kind of conversation did they need to have? Was it possible this man could have him imprisoned?

I’m a member of the Kindred now, they can’t do that. Can they?

“You’ve already decided, Elder?” Tomaz rumbled.

“I decided the moment I met him,” Goldwyn replied with a smile. “Go on, we’ll be fine. I’ll call you back when we’re done. Oh and Tomaz, would you mind bringing me a cup of
kaf
? I left it heating on the stove, it should be done by now. And one for this young man as well please.”

“Certainly Elder,” Tomaz said, nodding his head slightly to the man before moving away. He stopped as he passed Raven and put a hand on his shoulder, nearly engulfing half of his chest in his huge palm.

“Be nice,” he rumbled, and then left.

Be nice? If one more person says something that makes me think I should be worried I’m jumping that wall and running back to Roarke.

Leah looked at him as well, though her face was impassive. It seemed that she had reached her daily limit of emotions. She simply nodded and left.

“Do you remember your first conversation?” Raven heard Tomaz rumble to her as they went into the house. No doubt the giant thought he was speaking low enough that he couldn’t be heard.

“I remember it very well,” Leah said quietly. “I think everyone does.”

And then they were gone, and it was only Raven, Goldwyn, and the flickering fire between them.

“I apologize for the formality,” Goldwyn said, breaking the silence, not looking at Raven but instead examining the flames. “I usually don’t stand too much on ceremony, but sometimes it’s nice.”

Raven stayed silent, watching the older man closely, not sure what to expect. On sudden impulse he sent his mind through the Raven Talisman, searching for life around him, searching for assassins or anyone who might be hiding nearby. It may have been an unnecessary precaution, but ever since Raven’s own Mother had tried to have him killed, he had learned to embrace the survival benefits of paranoia.

But there was nothing to be found, just the background of plant life circling the courtyard, and the lights of the others inside the manor.

So, out of curiosity and the hope it would give him a better gage on who he was dealing with, he reached out to Goldwyn, and felt … nothing.

In shock, he surged to his feet and dropped a hand to his side, looking for the sword he’d left outside on his horse, before he realized that he had been mistaken. No, there was something in the man sitting before him … there was something there, of course there was. It was a light, there was life. It was just … steady. So steady it was almost impossible to sense.

There was no fear in this man, no anxiety. No images or colors flashed in Raven’s mind, no scents or sounds came unbidden to his ears when he touched this man’s life. This man just … was.

“I understand that you can read people’s lives with the Talisman you posses,” Goldwyn said, watching him with an unreadable expression. No, not unreadable,
blank
.

“How are you doing that?” Raven asked harshly. He’d had too much experience with the Empire’s Bloodmagic to be comfortable here. Death Watchmen, Daemons, Clockwork constructs, anything was possible with the power of a Soul Catcher. Was this some new kind of trick? Was this man before him a construct?

It can’t be, you know it can’t be. The light of his life … it’s so pure, so calm. Like new fallen snow or the air after it rains.

“How am I doing what?” Goldwyn asked, leaning forward now, looking interested. “Are you trying to sense my life right now? What is it you feel?”

“I … I don’t feel anything,” Raven said slowly, still tense. The sound of laughter came from inside the house, Davydd’s rich baritone as he boasted about something or other accompanied by Tomaz’s deep rumbling chuckle. This should be a safe place. Tomaz and Leah both trusted Goldwyn. He had to trust the man too.

Slowly, very slowly, he forced himself to sit back down. Goldwyn didn’t seem to pay any attention to this – it was as if he hadn’t even seen Raven stand, as if a threat to his personal safely held no interest for him.

“What is the process usually like?” the Elder asked, the light of the fire reflecting off of the glass in his spectacles, which rested carelessly at the end of his nose. He looked intrigued, and he waited politely for an answer.

Raven had no idea what to say. How could he reveal such a thing? Until a few months ago the two of them had been mortal enemies – this man had led raids against the Empire, fought openly against Ramael and maybe even Rikard. Certainly Goldwyn had lost hundreds if not thousands of men to Ramael throughout his lifetime – could he be trying to gain Raven’s goodwill so that he could lure him into a trap? Could this all be an elaborate plot to gain information?

Stop it. You cannot go on like this. Leah and Tomaz trust him – isn’t that enough for now?

“Well,” Raven said slowly, his voice strained, “when I touch a person’s life, I see things. Hear things. Reflections of their life, ideas of who they are. I think it’s because you can’t actually know who or what a person is … a person isn’t a string of words. It’s a series of memories, a chain of wordless impressions. It’s thoughts, and things that don’t make sense unless you experience them. Like … the sound of steel cutting through silk. Laughter bathed in moonlight. Twilight dying to the sound of midnight bells.”

Goldwyn sat back, a look of quiet wonder on his face. The feel of his life never changed – this man was unshakeable. He was the kind of rock that would last for thousands of years, that simply
was
, as permanent a fixture as the earth or sky.

“Please,” the Elder said, his gray eyes watching him carefully, finally acknowledging Raven’s wariness, “don’t worry. I swear to you that I mean you no harm. I am sorry that the … feel of my life frightened you. I promise you it was not intentionally done.”

Raven nodded slowly, accepting the statement, even though he still had half a mind to run, to get himself as far away from this man, this Elder, as possible. Paranoia had kept him alive for months now, and the one time he’d let his guard down was the time a half-dozen Death Watchmen had tried to kill him. Over-reactions seemed to be what was keeping him alive.

“When Tomaz was leaving,” Raven said, “he asked Leah if she remembered her first conversation. What did he mean by that? A conversation?”

To Raven’s surprise Goldwyn laughed and shook his head ruefully.

“I’m constantly amazed at how quiet that man can be in the forest, and yet how terrible he is at whispering. In any case, I am a teacher at heart, I always have been. And when I see someone who needs help … I talk to them. I listen; sometimes I suggest things. Sometimes push them if they need it, sometimes pull them back. Over my life I seemed to have had a great many conversations with a great many people … and most of them seem to have learned something from it. I’ve learned a lot from them too – that’s the point of a good conversation, I think.”

“So a … conversation … is a lesson,” Raven said.

His mind flashed back to all of the books inside the house, and wondered suddenly if this man had read them all. But no, that couldn’t be – they must be for show. It wasn’t possible for one person to read that many books in the space of one lifetime.

Though I’d certainly be willing to try.

“A conversation is a lesson of sorts, I suppose,” Goldwyn said. “So let us begin. Do you have something you’d like to talk about?”

“Not particularly.”

“Very well, would you like for me to chose the topic?”

“Yes.”

“Very well … tell me about your Mother.”

Raven looked up so quickly he cricked his neck.

“I should have known you were just interested in getting information out of me,” he growled. “At least you didn’t beat around the bush – you just came right out and asked. The honestly is refreshing.”

“You don’t trust many people,” Goldwyn said, watching him. Those gray eyes saw far too much.
Far
too much.

“No,” he spat back at the man, “and with good reason as you can see.”

“Why not?”

“What does that matter?”

“It doesn’t, so why shouldn’t you answer?”

“Oh, you’re clever.”