To Darkness Fled (41 page)

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Authors: Jill Williamson

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Christian

BOOK: To Darkness Fled
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"I did not."
Tara
reached under the sofa and pulled out a wicker basket. She drew out a handkerchief, dabbed her eyes, and fell back in the sofa, her golden curls spilling over the brown cushion. "What bad timing my life has had! Who will they choose for him then? You? It must be you, for I can think of no one else but Glassea, and she is a Hadar already."

Vrell shook her head. "Achan thinks me a boy--his squire, Tara, and a poor one at that. I do not wish him to know who I am. Not like this."

"But you are Lady Averella Amal, heir to Carm! Surely they would consider you. The traitor did."

Vrell sighed. "They
have
mentioned my name."

Tara
grasped Vrell's knee. "You mean...they don't know you are you? They talk about you as if you're not there?"

"Not often. Sir Gavin is the only one who knows who I am. The rest believe I am a boy."

Tara
sucked in a sharp breath. "Even Achan, the prince? He thinks you're a boy?"
Tara
's eyes sparkled, intoxicated with the juiciness of this information. "So they still might choose you."

"No. Maybe.
Tara
, even if they did, I would refuse. I love Bran, as you well know."

"Bran."
Tara
rolled her eyes and waved her handkerchief. "
He
is not to be king."

Vrell drew in a sharp breath. "I have been hiding nearly a year to avoid what has happened to you. The title of king means nothing to me. Achan is like a brother. And besides, he loves you."

Tara
threw up her hands. "He cannot possibly love me. We've only spoken a total of five minutes in our life. No, he loves the idea of me, poor dear." She sniffled. "I am convinced, Averella, that true love is a myth. Still, I do hope you and Bran can make it work. And I pray whoever is chosen for Achan... well... that he will be happier than I." She reached out and stroked Vrell's hair. "Averella. You are disgusting. When did you last bathe?"

Vrell wrinkled her nose. "In Mirrorstone, and then the water was not fresh."

Tara
clucked her tongue. "And how many days have passed since Mirrorstone?"

"Almost three weeks, I am afraid," Vrell whispered.

"Gracious! The men as well?"

"Oh, no. They have taken several baths, but... Oh,
Tara
. It has been such a trial. And men can be so revolting. They bathe together, often in a steam room or lake where I could not go. If not for bloodvoices, and Sir Gavin's help, I would have been discovered long ago."

Tara
straightened. "You have the king's gift too? How could I not have known this?"

Vrell shrugged. "We only discovered it before I left for Walden's Watch."

"You went to Coraline?"
Tara
's eyes sparkled. "How did Shoal look?"

Vrell grinned. "Handsome as ever, and in love with a fisherman's daughter."

"Mercy. Let us speak no more of thwarted love."
Tara
dabbed her eyes again. "I may not be able to take you home, but I can help you bathe, at least. Go gather your things. I will have a bath drawn for you in this room. Tell Sir Gavin you are staying with me tonight, then come back here. If I have not returned, wait outside the door. I am going to fetch a few things from my room." She took Vrell's hand in hers and squeezed. "I will take care of you tonight, dearest."

25

Achan stood by the door of his bedchamber listening to Sir Gavin's heavy footsteps fade down the hall. He glanced at the tub, at the steam rising above the clear water. A bath would warm his very bones, but first...

He cracked open the door to an empty hallway and crept out, uncertain what he was looking for or how he'd know if he found it. He turned a corner and almost ran into Sparrow.

The boy frowned, his cat-like eyes scanning Achan. "I was told you were talking a bath."

"And?"

"Well...clearly you have not."

Achan narrowed his eyes. "Why do you care?"

"I simply... Well... I thought..."

Achan laughed. "Take my bath, Sparrow. Tell Sir Gavin I said so if he asks. Enjoy." He leaned close to Sparrow's ear. "I do believe they scented it with rose water." He waggled his eyebrows, stepped around the boy, and continued to the stairs.

"Achan."

He spun around.

"Please do not go to her."

Achan's muscles stiffened. "To who?"

"Lady Tara."

Achan gripped the boy's shoulder. "Are you reading my thoughts?"

Sparrow's eyes widened. "Of course not. I just know you. But you might save yourself the trouble and hear her thoughts first."

"I won't violate her mind." Again. "It isn't right."

Sparrow shook his head. "I only meant... Well... You do not have all the information."

"And you do?"

"I...I believe Lady Tara is married. She wears a ring on her finger."

Achan couldn't tolerate Sparrow's meddling today. "I wear a ring and I'm not married." Achan spun the boy around and shoved him toward his bedchamber. "Don't fret, Sparrow. Go, take my bath, enjoy it, smell like roses, and leave me be."

"But--"

"Now!" He winced at the level of his voice and added in a soft tone, "Please. I'll beat you if you insist." He grinned to make it clear he was only jesting, then walked to the stairs where he met a boy carrying a bolt of cloth.

"Boy? Can you tell me where I might find Lady Tara? I must speak with her."

"Aye, m' lord. I'll take you to her."

Achan followed the lad to a large wooden door on the third floor. The crest of Meribah Corner was carved into the wood with great care, the dagger fabulously ornate with jewels encrusted into the hilt. Odd that Lady Tara should have the best chamber in the house. Perhaps Lord Gershom slept in the garrison with his men as some captains did.

"Many thanks, boy."

The boy bowed and hurried back down the hall. Achan knocked on the door. After a long moment, the door swung in and a slender maid curtsied. "My lord?"

"I wish to speak with Lady Tara. Is she in?"

"One moment, my lord."

The maid shut the door in Achan's face. Hurried steps clumped inside the room followed by whispers and scurrying about. Again the door opened.

The maid said, "Lady Tara will see you now."

Achan stepped into a warm bedchamber. Tapestries hung over the timber walls, depicting the history of Meribah Corner. A dark wood sideboard ran along one wall, a large fireplace beside it. Two large windows, solid with tracery circles, filled another. A vast canopied bed with green and blue striped drapes trimmed in gold fringe dominated the third wall. Two white fur pelts covered the center of a red clay tile floor. A pair of man-sized slippers sat on a long footstool near the bedside. Achan frowned and found more signs of a man. Two swords hanging on the wall. A fur jerkin draped over a chair.

Yet there was also a standing embroidery frame and stool. Nearly complete, it depicted a large ship at sea.

"It's my brother's boat, the
Brierstar
." Lady Tara stood before the sideboard, wringing her hands.

Achan glanced at her fingers. Indeed, she wore a large gold ring. He swallowed. Sparrow couldn't be right, could he? There must be another explanation. Achan pushed aside his doubts and forged ahead with his plan.

He bowed low. "Lady Tara, I must speak with you." The maid who stood against the door watched him with narrowed eyes. "Alone, if that's permissible?"

The maid looked at the floor.

Lady Tara's cheeks darkened. "No, Your Highness. Forgive me, but that would be quite improper."

Of course. Achan's resolve shrank. He didn't know how to offer marriage properly. His heart galloped in his chest. He licked his chapped lips and took several short breaths.

"Are you well?" Lady Tara poured liquid into a mug and offered it with trembling hands. "Drink. The ale will settle your stomach. I hope Meribah Corner has not made you ill?"

Achan gulped the lukewarm ale and handed her the empty mug. "No, my lady. It's nerves alone that have upset me."

She set his mug on the sideboard, keeping her back to him. "Nerves, Your Highness?"

Achan didn't speak. He couldn't do this. Yet he clenched his fists, determined to try. He wouldn't marry a stranger. If he won Lady Tara's favor, surely Sir Gavin and the others wouldn't force him to go against his oath.

Lady Tara spun around. "You are a mystery. When first I met you, you were a squire. Later that evening, you donned a servant's uniform. The following days you were a Kingsguard knight. Now you are a prince. Tell me, what will you become next?"

One long step brought him within inches of her blue eyes. "Your husband, if you'll have me."

She clapped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes.

The maid squeaked and ran out of the room.

Achan's heart raced. He should do something better, more dramatic. He knelt at Lady Tara's feet and grasped her free hand in both of his. She shook her head and tried to pull away but he held fast. "As heir to the throne I've been charged with choosing a bride. I would have none but you."

Tears snaked down her rosy cheeks. This wasn't going well. He reached up to dab her cheeks with his fingers.

She grasped his hand and squeezed. "Your Highness, I am desperately sorry, but--"

"Unhand her!" Boots stomped over the floor. Before Achan could turn, a strong hand gripped the neck of his doublet and dragged him back.

"Carmack, stop!" Lady Tara yelled.

Carmack flung Achan back through the embroidery frame. He skidded over the tile on a white pelt, rigid with shock.

Carmack rounded on him. He gripped his doublet with both fists, lifted him to his feet, and slammed him against the wall. "You have no right to be in here."

Achan shook his surprise away, trying not to look winded from the breath Carmack had knocked from his lungs. He sized up his opponent, trying to recall Sir Caleb's advice to Sparrow on attacking someone bigger than you.

"Carmack! Release him at once!" Lady Tara took a deep breath, her face a mask of fury, and laid her hand on Carmack's bulging bicep. "Please, Master Demry, there is no need. The prince simply came to inquire about my husband's well being."

Achan's shoulders slumped, though Carmack held him fast against the cool wall. Sparrow had been right, that little fox. How had he known?

Carmack glared at Achan. "He should not have come into your chambers."

"That may be true, but the girl was here until she fled just now. You will release him and wait outside. Now."

Carmack's eyebrows twitched. Clearly the man didn't relish leaving Achan alone with Lady Tara.

"Master Demry!"

Achan tensed at the volume of Lady Tara's voice.

Carmack released Achan but stared as though Achan were a pile of maggots in his soup. "Two minutes." He stormed past the maid, who stood trembling in the doorway.

Lady Tara ushered the maid out and closed the door. She released a shaky sigh and spoke over her tears. "I am already married, Your Highness, to Lord Gershom." She wrung a handkerchief in her dainty hands, baring the ring she wore.

Closer now, Achan could see the crest of Meribah Corner engraved into the gold. He swallowed his frustrated humiliation. He'd proposed to a married woman. They were in her chambers. Alone. Sir Caleb would berate him. One look at the lady's tear-streaked face and Achan couldn't help but whisper, "But you cannot possibly love Lord Gershom."

Lady Tara flushed. "This is not a world where one marries for love."

"It should be."

Lady Tara straightened, holding her chin high. "My father and my great aunt, Lady Merris, plotted this match. In exchange for my hand, Lord Gershom gave my father the northern cape of Therion Forest. His men can hunt there and bring their kills back along the coast by dogsled to the people. It is a good exchange for Tsaftown, they--"

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