The Twelve Kingdoms (26 page)

“You needed it. And, as you observed, today will likely be a long one.” Harlan surged to his feet, stretching, joints popping, and his loosened trousers sagged, tenting enticingly over his morning erection. He caught me looking and gave me a cocky grin. “You know I'm always ready to serve you, Your Highness.”

I snorted and found my shirt. It felt odd to wear it bare breasted, especially with my nipples already sensitive. I'd have to find another cloth to bind myself, as Harlan had effectively destroyed the other. Folding the cut pieces of fabric, I found myself smiling at the memory, not minding a bit.

By mutual accord, we headed back to the camp at a brisk jog, just to get the blood moving. It would have been good to have a workout, but I doubted we had time. Sure enough, the tents had been struck and some of the camp already packed away. Andi sat at a table, hands wrapped around a steaming cup—tea, no doubt—looking sleepy and somewhat grumpy. Good to know that she hadn't changed all that much.

Dafne sat with her, watched our approach with a pleased smile, though she offered a good morning neutrally enough and nudged the teapot in my direction. Rayfe strode up, leading two horses, saddled and ready to go, and nodded in greeting.

“We're ready to leave when you've all had breakfast,” he said.

“I'm working on it,” Andi muttered. Then yawned.

“Are you unwell, Queen Andromeda?” Harlan handed me a basket of bread.

“No,” I answered for her. “She wakes up cranky. Always has.”

Rayfe straddled the bench and smiled. The good cheer in it took me aback, the way it transformed what otherwise tended to be a brooding visage. He and I had been so often on the opposite sides of a battle line that I'd never had occasion to see him cheerful. “Good to know that it's not me. She gave me some bad moments early on. I feared she'd knife me—yet again—the morning after our wedding night.”

Andi glared at him balefully. “Keep it up and I still might.”

He laughed and ran a hand down her streaming hair. “Have some more tea, my queen.”

“So what is your plan for today and going forward?” I asked Rayfe, giving him a nod of respect. If nothing else, I owed him that for the way he clearly treasured Andi. Their marriage may have come about at great cost to us all, but that also belonged in the past.

He sobered, all king now. “We'll reach Annfwn by midday. My scouts report no further news, but we may discover more once there.”

“Aren't we in Annfwn already?” Dafne asked, noting something on a scroll.

“They call the capital city and the country by the same name,” Andi inserted, wrinkling her nose at Rayfe. “It's confusing.”

“I didn't do the naming,” Rayfe responded easily. “Depending on the state of affairs there, and what Andromeda may discover through her scrying methods, I suggest we set out again immediately. I understand you're an excellent tracker, Your Highness.”

“I hold my own, though I wish I had my best tracker with me.”

“I'm highly skilled at it,” Harlan said.

I glanced at him. “You never mentioned that.”

“You didn't ask.”

No, but I'd seen the list of his skills in the thrice-dammed contract and well he knew it. He simply smiled easily at my consternation and, for the first time, I wondered what else I didn't know about him.

“Good.” Rayfe tapped his fingers on the table, his thoughts preoccupied. “I'd prefer to use your resources rather than Tala ones, for the time being.”

“Ash mentioned that you'd been dealing with some sort of resistance group.” I felt my way carefully here, not knowing Rayfe's temper on the topic or whether Ash had been meant to spill this particular secret. Still, I knew and it seemed best to put that out there.

Looking more alert, Andi widened her eyes at me in quiet warning and a scowl settled on Rayfe's face. “Did he now? Indiscreet of him.”

“In all fairness”—I bit into an apple, sweeter and crisper than any I'd before tasted—“I guessed part of it and rather bullied the rest out of him under duress.”

Beside me, Harlan chuckled. Andi finished her tea and set the cup down with a thunk. “I believe that. Don't go hard on him, Rayfe—you've never seen Ursula when she's truly sunk her teeth into someone. Better men than he have folded under that steely glare of hers.”

“I'm not comfortable sharing internal Tala affairs with Uorsin's heir,” Rayfe said. “I'm sure you understand, Your Highness.”

“King Rayfe.” I leaned forward, folding my arms on the table. “What I understand is that your affairs and mine have overlapped. Like it or not, we have become political bedfellows.”

“Have been,” Andi pointed out, “since Salena left Annfwn to wed Uorsin.”

“Before that, even,” Dafne added. “Annfwn wasn't always so isolated from the rest of the kingdoms. Princess Amelia believes quite strongly—and from the information she's uncovered, I tend to agree—that the brightest future for all of us lies in opening intercourse between Annfwn and the Twelve.”

“This sounds like a ploy of Uorsin's.” Rayfe shimmered with dark violence now.

“No.” I said it in a thoughtful tone, parsing it through and attempting to defuse Rayfe's building suspicions. “The High King wants to possess Annfwn. There's no doubt of that and no sense denying it. However, he knows nothing of Amelia's thoughts on this. They have not spoken since she visited here, and I can safely say that her sympathies are no longer fully with the cause of the High Throne.”

Andi raised her eyebrows at me. “And you didn't cut her down for treason? Color me shocked and amazed.”

“Why?” Her response irritated me. “I sit here with you, don't I?”

Harlan touched the small of my back, subtly soothing.

Andi sighed. “You're right. I apologize. I never thought I'd see the day that you admitted our father was less than a paragon.”

I must have been still raw in some way, from my confessions in the dark of night, and her words pierced me. Needing the moment, I touched the Star in my pommel, surprisingly hot in the cool morning air. Harlan shifted beside me, but thankfully said nothing. Andi, though, reached across the table and touched my hand. “Hey. I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.”

Clearing my throat, I met her gaze as steadily as I could. “It's nothing.”

“No.” She frowned. “I can see there is something, but we'll discuss it later.”

When Danu grew pink roses. I didn't say that, however, and turned my attention to Rayfe. “You cripple us by keeping secrets. If you want our help, we need to know what we face. This little problem of yours has resulted in the loss of a member of the royal family. Here's what I understand. You can fill in the rest as you see fit.”

At his begrudging nod, I continued, glad that they hadn't asked Harlan or Dafne to leave, saving me the trouble of going behind anyone's back to fill them in. “It seems that a Tala man named Terin posed as a minstrel to infiltrate Windroven and abduct the infant princess.”

“Our uncle,” Andi inserted.

“Excuse me?”

She'd shocked me with that and knew it, nodding with a wry expression on her face. “That was my reaction, too. He's the twin brother of Salena's first husband, Tosin. Not a blood relation, but—”

“Our mother was married before?” Another thought occurred to me. “Is this Tosin here, in Annfwn?”

“No, he died before she ever left.” Andi looked sorrowful. More to the story than that. It was odd, imagining our mother with another husband, a whole other life.

“Did they . . . have children?” The question was off topic, but I needed to know if there were others. Half siblings she'd left behind and never spoken of.

Andi shook her head, though. “That's part of why she left, why she married Uorsin—to beget us.”

“Another reason,” Dafne put in, “that Princess Amelia believes Annfwn needs the Twelve as much as we need Annfwn: too much inbreeding.”

“We have Andromeda now,” Rayfe snapped. “Salena's solution.”

“I'm not enough.” Andi turned to him with the exasperation of rehashing an old argument, undaunted by his glower.

“And there are other problems,” Dafne pointed out with her calm scholarly logic. “The magic in Annfwn has been bottled up behind the barrier—starving the outside.”

“Starving?” I questioned. Puzzle pieces shifted and re-sorted themselves.

“Yes.” Dafne folded her hands. “Ami was still working on the theory and so didn't bring it up when you visited Windroven before her lying in, but she believes that the encroaching drought, the crop and livestock failures—most recently the plagues—have been growing steadily worse since Annfwn magically closed its borders. Moranu was never meant to be divided from her sister goddesses.”

“The problems of the Twelve do not concern Annfwn,” Rayfe asserted.

“They concern me,” Andi and I said at the same time. She smiled at me, and once again I had to process how much she'd matured.

“They should concern you, King Rayfe,” Dafne continued in her implacable tone. “If the theory holds, you've been experiencing the inverse problem—the magic intensifying and perhaps turning in on itself.”

Rayfe didn't reply, but neither did he deny it. Dafne nodded to herself and made a note.

“So what is Terin's objective?” I asked, point-blank. “He objects to Andi being less than full blood, but Stella's blood would be even more dilute. He can't seek to set her up as queen instead, can he?”

“This is the question we all have,” Andi confided. “Terin himself has what the Tala consider to be weaker blood. He can shape-shift, but only inside Annfwn, and he could not cross the border without my help. Unlike you or I.”

Shape-shifting. Though I knew some Tala possessed the ability, it still seemed like a leap to believe it possible. “But you and I can't shape-shift.”

“Well”—she smiled and exchanged a look with Rayfe, both intimate and proud—“you can't.”

Danu take me.
Andi's smile widened in her delight at having shocked me again. “Want to see?”

“No.” Of that I was certain.

“Come on—don't be such a mossback,” she teased. Dafne smothered a laugh.

I glared at her, which had zero effect. “I know full well that's a Tala insult.”

“Don't be mad. Maybe you can still learn. I'll teach you.”

“No, thank you. I like my skin the way it is.”

“You do it naturally, to some extent.” She grinned at me, though I tried to cover my reaction to that. I was determined not to rise to her bait.

Harlan, however, spoke up. “That's why she's so fast.”

Andi nodded approvingly. “Exactly, Captain Harlan. It's very interesting. The Tala have a different physicality. Those with pure enough blood, even if they never fully shape-shift, seem to have unusual control of their bodies. Speed, flexibility, strength.”

Uncomfortable with the idea of my body as somehow mutable, I changed the subject, glancing pointedly at Rayfe, who'd relaxed some with Andi's good humor. “Anything else I need to know?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately you now know nearly as much as we do.”

“Tell me this. You people have all these varieties of magic. I hear there are all sorts of black arts, also. Death magics, that sort of thing.” I avoided looking at Harlan, just barely. “Could this Terin have some sort of nefarious purpose for Stella? To exploit her blood in some way?”

Andi and Rayfe both looked grim. “It's possible,” Andi said, quelling Rayfe with a sharp look. “Ursula needs to know this. Stella bears the mark as I do. It gives her certain . . . access to Annfwn's magic. I don't know that it can be exploited or if they mean to keep her until she's old enough to learn. But that's a factor.”

“We must find the child,” Rayfe confirmed. “All else is secondary.”

“Well, then.” I stood. “On to Annfwn.”

I
t felt good to be on the move again. To be going after Ami and the babies. Though the confirmation of my worst fears chilled my gut, I liked knowing what we were getting into. It gave our mission a clear focus.

Saving my sister, however, still took precedence for me, regardless of the rest.

Andi and Rayfe had an intense but brief argument about blindfolding us for the ride in, which Andi won. Fortunately, as I would have refused to go blind, at point of sword, if necessary. From the carefully neutral expression on Harlan's face, he felt the same.

We skirted the lake and went up the ridge on the far side, following what seemed to be deer trails. The farther in we penetrated, the more the forest altered from the familiar look of the Wild Lands around Ordnung. It must have been due to the moisture, that the trees grew so large. They towered overhead, with fat trunks, some so wide several men of Harlan's size would have to link their arms to encircle them.

Shadows flitted through those trees, some seeming to be birds, others not any kind of recognizable animals. I caught Harlan squinting speculatively after one and he gave me a rueful smile. “Unsettling,” he observed, “to encounter guardians such as this.” He gestured at the dense forest hemming us in on the barely there trail. “We would be hard-pressed to defend ourselves against an attack under these circumstances.”

Rayfe turned in the saddle and raised one eyebrow. “The Tala are not fools.”

I didn't comment, though I agreed. They'd once told me I'd never be able to bring an army against the Tala on their home territory, even if we'd passed the barrier. It seemed they had not exaggerated Annfwn's natural defenses.

“I wonder that you feel you need the magical barrier,” I commented.

His brows lowered. “Forgive me if I'm unlikely to take advice from Uorsin's daughter.”

“You take advice from me,” Andi pointed out, and he glowered at her, making me laugh. She flashed me a quick, naughty grin.

“You're happier, being with your sister,” Harlan said. “It's good to see.”

“Do you have siblings?” It occurred to me to ask him.

Oddly, he hesitated. Barely, but I knew his patterns better now. “I have six brothers.”

“Where are you in the lineup?”

He gave me a disingenuous smile. “I am the baby.”

I snorted. “I'd hate to see the others, then.”

“It's unlikely you ever shall, as they would never leave Dasnaria and I will never go back.”

“Strong words. Why's that?”

“A long story. The short version is that there is no place for me in Dasnaria.” He sounded uncharacteristically downcast. “I misliked the future others planned for me and so took my fate into my own hands.”

“As a soldier of fortune?”

“I possessed size, strength, and determination.” He flashed me a grin at that. “So learning the ways of the warrior made a natural fit. Then, as I wished to be leader of my own men instead of general of someone else's army—and because stray armies are not readily available in Dasnaria—I decided to form the Vervaldr.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“Not easy, no.” He nodded thoughtfully. “But far more interesting and rewarding than my alternatives. I started small, with a few men, specific jobs. Each new place its own challenge. The Vervaldr grew in number, skill, and reputation.”

“And now you're here.”

“Yes. I knew even in those long-ago days that the world must hold something more than what it appeared to offer me. I allowed
hlyti
to guide me to it.”

“God or goddess?”

“Neither. More your concept of fate.” He gave me an intimate smile. “Though perhaps your Danu had a hand in it.”

“Sex falls to Glorianna.”

“But the warriors belong to Danu. You do; thus, so do I.”

I shifted in the saddle, uncomfortable with that, and he laughed softly. “Look there.” The trees had thinned and we broke out of the dense woods, the city of Annfwn before us as if it had appeared from nowhere. Altogether unexpected.

It appeared to be built entirely into an enormous cliff of white stone, rising from the level of the beach to startling heights. Balconies, towers, archways, and sculptures carved into the rock showed that it had been inhabited for generations. It stretched for leagues up the beach, with uncountable door and window openings, glittering with jewel tones of lapis, ruby, and emerald, level upon level up to the very top. Squinting against the sun, I made out structures on the plateau above, as well.

Stone pathways wound up and around, bordered by low walls draped with vines and flowers. At the near end, multilevel dwellings had been built in and around the massive limbs of the trees bordering the cliff. Bridges of rope and wood connected them to the cliff homes. At the base of the cliff, paths dove under and into shadowed recesses.

The sea, gentle and serene as off Elcinea, lapped against the white-sand beach. All in all, Annfwn made a spectacularly beautiful sight. I had never pictured it so, from my mother's stories, but I recognized now what she'd tried to describe. It pained my heart to think of it. Perhaps because I had yet to regrow my thicker skin. On some deep level, though it made no logical sense, I recognized the place. My blood surged and that strange sense of rightness filled me.

Andi, who'd hung back as Rayfe pointed out features to an interested Harlan and delighted Dafne, while I'd been transfixed, rode close enough to nudge my knee with hers. “Breathtaking, isn't it? I had the same reaction.”

“How do you suppose she ever left it?” I breathed.

Andi shook her head. “She was like you, I suppose—full of conviction and powerful purpose.”

“Is that how you see me?” I asked, bemused.

“You won't stay, will you? You could. This is your home, too, by right. After we rescue Ami, you could stay here, swim in the warm waters, settle down with the handsome and stalwart Captain Harlan, and make babies.”

It made me laugh, even as I was shaking my head at the prospect. “I must return to Ordnung. My place is there.”

“See? Conviction and powerful purpose.”

“Maybe, though . . .” I trailed off, trying to see the path of my future. How it could fall out. Find Ami, rescue Stella, bring them all home to Ordnung. Kill or otherwise dispatch Illyria, send the mercenaries away. If Uorsin made Astar his heir, if I survived all that, perhaps I could return. If only to visit. A lot of ifs.

Andi's eyes had gone storm dark, as if she somehow followed the turn of my thoughts, looking down that path also. I studied her face. “What is the likelihood I'll survive to return here?”

She started, glared at me. “It doesn't work that way. I can't give you betting odds.”

“But you do see scenarios where I die.”

“I'm not discussing this.”

“What if knowing will help me to avoid it?”

Andi looked through me in that uncanny way. “Did you find your doll?”

“There was no finding needed—I always knew where it was. And yes, I looked at it and found nothing more remarkable than ever.”

“Did you bring it with you?”

“No. I thought it safer at Ordnung.”

“Probably just as well.” Her gaze strayed to the Star of Annfwn in the hilt of my sword. “That will guide you. That's why she gave it to you. The doll will help you see and so will Lady Zevondeth. When she asks for your blood, give it to her and do as she tells you, even if it makes no sense.”

I nodded, committing the advice to memory. It sounded crazy, but I knew the words came from another place. It also didn't bear repeating that the doll had been empty or that Zevondeth wasn't in condition to do much at all. If she even still lived. All of that fell to the future.

“And, Ursula? You won't want to hear this, but . . .” She shook her head, stopping herself.

“What?”

“No, I can't tell you. If I do, it changes too much.”

“That's hardly helpful.”

“I know.” She looked profoundly unhappy.

“My queen?” Rayfe called out.

“We're coming!” She answered, but her fierce, troubled gaze stayed on mine. Nudging Fiona still closer, she grasped my hand. “I told you before not to trust him, remember?”

We both knew who she meant, though I didn't want to hear it any more now than I had then. I understood Andi's dislike of our father, didn't blame her, as shabbily as he'd treated her, but I couldn't agree.

“I know you don't believe me, but there will come a time . . .” She shook her head, clearly frustrated. It seemed to me that these visions of the future or whatever they were could hardly be all that useful, if she struggled with them so. “When the day comes that you make a choice that seems heinous to you, know that it's the right thing. The worst option is the best one. For all of us.”

“That has to be the least helpful advice I've ever received,” I remarked.

Either my wry tone penetrated her haze or the grip of the magic eased its hold, because she refocused on my face and gave me a crooked smile. “Well, we foreseers can't make things too easy on our heroes.”

“Some hero I am.” I laughed and tugged at my hand, but she held it a moment longer.

“You're my hero, Ursula. Always have been.” Then she let me go, shook back her hair, and rode up to enter the city beside her husband.

The Tala people, though they noted our passage into the city, showed little more excitement than the folk of Ordnung Township would. In fact, they called out quite familiar greetings to Rayfe and Andi, observing no formal protocol as we followed the winding road up past houses, shops, and gathering areas.

Curious glances surveyed Harlan, Dafne, and me, knowing us for foreigners, who were obviously scarce in Annfwn. Still, we did not create that much of a stir. If I'd been asked to assess the population of the cliffside city based on this behavior alone, I'd have wanted to call them complacent. Obviously well fed, many of them indulged in conversation or artistic tasks that would have been deemed frivolous in most cities in the Twelve.

However, despite their apparent relaxed indolence and studiously careless neglect of our passage, my awareness prickled as if we'd walked into an ambush. We were surrounded by people who could change form at will or perform magics beyond my comprehension. They were like the prides of big cats of Erie, who sunned themselves and watched passersby with lazy, jeweled eyes—and could spring into lethal action in a blink.

“I'd wish to have my men with me,” Harlan commented quietly, “if I wasn't sure they'd just be slaughtered also.”

I threw him an appreciative glance. “Disconcerting, isn't it, to pass among them, knowing how quickly we'd die if they took it in their heads to do us harm.”

“At least you have the advantage of sharing Tala blood. I'm merely a mossback, mortal meat for these lions.”

“Perhaps your new fan club will save you.” I nodded at a group of young women who hung over a flower-draped balcony ahead, giggling among themselves, clearly admiring Harlan's big form, judging by their enthusiastic gestures.

They'd been pacing us for some time, an exception to the studious nonattention of most of the population, taking advantage of the way the road switchbacked under various ledges, balconies, and bridges. All dark haired, young, lissome, and lovely, they seemed exceptionally taken with the fair-haired mercenary. I couldn't blame them, really.

He'd tanned darker over the last few days of travel, skin gleaming bronze in the gentle sunshine, shades deeper than his blond hair. The warmth had prompted us all to strip down some, and he wore a simple leather vest over a sleeveless white shirt. It set off the impressive muscles of his shoulders and arms.

“Like what you see?” he asked, his voice low, with a sensual buzz I now recognized.

“They certainly do.”

As we passed beneath, the group of young ladies shouted something in the liquid Tala language, and one tossed an exotic blossom to him. He caught the flower and halted, bowing gravely to the woman. Then he placed a hand over his heart, shook his head with an expression of dramatic regret, and handed the blossom to me.

The ladies sighed in disappointment, eyeing me and whispering among themselves. Feeling both self-conscious and surprisingly warmed by the gesture, I studied the blossom, never having seen its like before, uncertain what I should do with it.

“Here,” Harlan nudged his horse closer, took the flower from my hands, and tucked it behind my ear. “Beautiful.”

I couldn't possibly be blushing. The romantic murmurs of the young women above added to the silliness of it all. I urged my stallion ahead, to catch up. “You might as well plop a bow on my head.”