Dawnsinger (13 page)

11

Place of Prayer

Shae threw open the shutters. Moonlight flooded the room, washing into a pool at her feet. Drafts lifted her hair, their chill a marked contrast to the feverish thoughts that kept her from sleep. The world below lay in savage beauty. She recalled the pastoral setting she’d once imagined surrounded Torindan and smiled.

The rain had ceased, taking with it the clouds. Jagged peaks stood in relief, and the full moon, glaring white against a pewter sky, made spider’s webs of weaving shadows. Silver edged the eastern horizon like a whispered promise.

When she could tolerate the cold no longer, she reached for the shutters but paused and scanned the horizon. Had she seen…? Yes, there—darker shapes against the sky resolved into two wingabeasts with riders. They approached from the west and landed within the outer bailey, passing from view.

A wave of energy hit Shae with such force it brought her to her knees. Anger, excitement, and triumph rushed headlong through her. Another soul clung to hers like a parasite. As she fought to breathe, Freaer’s words came in memory.
I’m sorry. I can’t always control it.
Swept before a force she neither knew nor understood, she floundered, eroded by the strange tide engulfing her.

****

Leaning forward in his chair, Craelin steepled his hands and rested his forehead on them. “Traitors flew wingabeasts on some foul mission last night.”

“You’re sure?” But Kai asked without hope.

Guaron, across from Craelin on the bench in the main guardroom, nodded, his straw-colored hair swaying. With one finger he tapped the cleft in his chin. “I know the wingabeasts well. Two of the blacks, Saethril and Morgraen, journeyed far in the night, I’ll swear. They showed signs of fatigue, and their coats bore flecks of sweat this morning. Whoever rode them either grows careless or lacked time to cool them down.”

Craelin narrowed his eyes. “Did you see or hear anything?”

Guaron considered the question, and then nodded. “I can’t say I did.”

“You’re sure? Think back.”

Guaron obeyed, with the same result.

“Thank you.” Craelin said in a defeated voice. “Pray advise us should you find anything more.”

“I will.” The door shut behind Guaron.

“By Timraen’s grave!” Craelin slapped his hand on the rough wood of the table. “We will get to the bottom of this!”

Kai narrowed his eyes. “Our decision not to increase security for the stables seems a poor one now. But time may bear us out.”

Craelin shook his head. “I fear time will only teach us more of last night’s evil.”

****

Light descended like a benediction from stained glass windows that reached toward a vaulted ceiling. Shae paused in its rear archway and took in the splendor of Torindan’s Allerstaed. How unlike Whellein it seemed. No dust intruded, and no grime marred the glowing panes repeating beneath arches down either side of the building. Even the silence seemed inhabited—more a pause than a period.

Shae stepped into the sanctuary, her slippered feet making little noise on the floor of polished strongwood. “Oh, Lof Yuel, I’ve been such a fool.” She whispered the words, and then fell silent. What more could she add? That she had broken her word to Maeven and alienated her brother? That she’d disregarded both honor and integrity? That she suspected Kai and Freaer might yet come to violence on her account?

She reached the golden railing at the foot of the altar, knelt, and bowed her head. “I should never have left my chamber during the storm, except to come here. Oh
why
couldn’t I have come here?” Her tears flowed, silent and solemn. She wished with all her heart she had not added to Kai’s burdens by her rash behavior. She regretted, not for the first time, that she didn’t better resemble her more obedient twin. Katera would never find herself in such a position. Tears fell to bathe her clasped hands.

“And so I find you.”

Kai stood silhouetted in the rear archway

Shae came to her feet. “Why are you here? Chaeldra said you would be in a meeting all the morn.”

He sighed. “So much remains obvious. Why does it surprise me when you ignore my wishes? I asked you to remain in your chambers until I came for you.”

“You can’t have meant to deny me the Place of Prayer.”

“I would rather find you here than…elsewhere. I meant only to keep you safe until we could speak.”

“Safe?”

He stepped toward her. “You met no one on your way here? Spoke with none?”

She found her voice with difficulty. “What makes you ask?”

He paced from light to shadow and then back into light as he crossed beneath one of the high windows. “Freaer and I came to…an agreement. He will not speak of what happened. But others helped search for you in the night—Craelin and a few of the guardians. They heard a tale I devised. I wanted you to know of it before you speak with anyone.” He stopped before her, his voice crisp. “Now tell me, Shae—did you or did you not encounter anyone?”

She hesitated, and then spoke with truth. “I met no one on the way here.”

“That’s well then.”

She crossed her arms over herself. “Am I forgiven?”

“Always, Shae, but I’d rather, for both our sakes, you had no cause to ask.” With a hand beneath her chin, he lifted her face to the light. “Do you weep?”

His gentle tone unsettled her. She had expected harshness. She should tell him how wretched she felt about the mess she’d created. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words stuck in her throat. “Mine are selfish tears,” she said instead. “You shouldn’t regard them. What tale have you given Craelin and the others?”

He stepped away. “I’ve explained that your foot pained you in the night and, loath to wake your servant, you left your chamber to find me, only to become lost.”

Shae shuddered at such lies spoken in the Allerstaed. Did all secrets start with lies? Did lies feed them until they grew into dragons ready to devour their creators? “What if we told the truth?”

He shrugged. “Your reputation would suffer, and you might have to wed Freaer to still gossip.” The words fell, each a weight, to lie like stones between them.

Heat rose in her cheeks as she recalled what Freaer had said.
Think of the worst that could happen. You’d have to wed me.
The prospect hadn’t daunted him, but it troubled her. She couldn’t deny the depth of her fascination with Freaer. Neither could she overlook the confusion she felt in his presence. Would a union with Freaer bring joy or would it, indeed, be the worst that could happen?

Kai’s eyes narrowed. “Put the thought from your mind!”

She bristled at his tone, although she tended to agree with him. “Why should I? At least I would then keep Whellein’s honor.”

He shook his head. “You are not for Freaer.”

She eyed him. “You speak as one who knows my future?” The words, meant as a challenge, came out a question.

“I do, at least a little.”

“And do you not think such knowledge would interest me?”

“I’m sure it would.” He turned away.

“Wait!” She caught his arm but he didn’t turn back to her. “
Look
at me! You speak in riddles and tell me nothing. Am I only a duty to you? Can’t you see I need more? I need to know, to understand—”

“Peace, be still.” He shook free of her grasp. “Love is not duty, but you know not what you ask.”

Hypnotized by the play of emotions across his face, Shae stared at Kai. Stepping backward against the prayer rail, she put out a hand and found the comfort of its smooth wood.

“All right, I’ll tell you. By all that’s holy, I’ve wanted to often enough. Only answer this and I will speak: Are you certain you want to know?”

Her intake of breath rasped in the silence. She’d never imagined Kai would give in to her demands. Now that he had, she hesitated, less certain she should abandon the shield of ignorance, however flimsy it might be. She pressed her hand against a bud of fear blossoming in her stomach. The gleam in Kai’s eyes told her he read her heart, and she bent her head with the knowledge of defeat.

“I didn’t think so.” His words, although tender, jarred. “Nor should I have offered. Such a right belongs to another.”

“Go, then.” She could have stood before his censure, but his gentleness unraveled her. “Leave me alone to pray.”

“I’ll wait to escort you to the Lof Raelein’s chambers when you finish.”

“I can find my own way.”

“Shae, you must take better thought for yourself. Elcon told me about your meeting with him in the inner garden. Promise me you’ll stop going about alone. There’s no need since the Lof Raelein has given you a maid. The freedom allowed you at Whellein has hindered your grasp of decorum or even prudence. But you are no longer in Whellein. You speak of leaving childhood behind, yet conduct yourself with the carelessness of a child. You must stop getting into adventures.”

Such a lecture from one who had rescued her from many adventures without complaint made Shae blink back tears. Her fingers cramped around the prayer rail. She let go and stretched them, and then lifted her head with dignity. “As you wish.”

A scuffling came from the darkness behind carved marble pillars in a darkened side passageway, and Shae’s heart pounded.

Kai took on the watchfulness she now recognized. “Come out!”

“Very well.” Elcon, wearing a surcoat of blue and gold over a rumpled tunic, stepped from behind a pillar.

“You!” Shae forgot her manners in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

The smudges beneath his eyes made their light green color stand out. “Trying to avoid embarrassing you.”

“I—I—you startled us.” Heat crept up her neck, and she bowed her head. “Lof Frael.” She flashed a glance at him. He wore weariness like a mantle. Had he spent the whole night watching over his mother?

A fleeting smile touched his mouth. “I came to offer prayers but seem to have entered at an…awkward time. You and Kai were…preoccupied and failed to hear the side door.”

Her face warmed further, and she cast back over her conversation with Kai. “How long did you hide there?”

“Not long. I learned little I did not already know, except that Kai can lose his patience.”

She attempted a smile. “I suppose we all can. I’ve tested his fortitude often enough.”

He gave a bark of laughter. “You do Kai a service. I’ve often thought him too perfect. Mother held him up to me as an example in my early days.”

She smiled with true warmth. “Mine did the same.”

Kai rubbed his chin. “I regret displaying my ill temper, although it does disprove your false images of me.”

Elcon stared at him. “You are fortunate to have a sister. Treat her well.”

Drawn by the wistfulness in his voice, Shae imagined Elcon in his early days—an only child growing up fatherless and in the isolation that accompanies privilege. She should say something on Kai’s behalf. “I am fortunate to have a brother who guards my welfare with diligence.”

Elcon directed his light-eyed gaze to Shae. “Well spoken, fair maiden. I hope you will heed his advice. I remember you risked yourself without chaperone the night we met, also. I brought you to safety and spoke of the matter to none but Kai. Not everyone would do the same.”

She bowed her head in acknowledgement and, having no defense, made none.

“How fares the Lof Raelein?
”
She looked up in gratitude at Kai’s change of subject.

“She spent a peaceful night and has improved.” Elcon’s face clouded. “I cannot say the same. I spent the night on a chair at her side. I did sleep, but only little. Images passed behind my eyes.”

“Images?” Kai asked.

Elcon’s forehead puckered. “Only shadows—things hissing in the dark—insects crawling over my flesh.” He shook his head. “And behind it all a foul thing waits.”

He seemed to describe Shae’s own dreams.

Elcon ran a hand through his hair, leaving it rumpled. “I’m out of sorts, but I came anyway to pray for my mother’s recovery. Will you join your prayers to mine?” He turned to the rail, and Shae knelt beside him. Kai went to his knees on her other side.

It felt somehow right to kneel between Kai and Elcon, although she did not pause to ask herself why.

****

Wooden shutters and embroidered hangings shut out the fading light, giving the room over to the soft glow of candle branches and oil lanthorns. Eufemia moved from the window with quiet grace and covered the flaemling cage with a sheet of fine linen before turning to the Lof Raelein in inquiry.

Maeven waved a hand. “Thank you. You may go.”

Kai drew closer to the bed where Maeven sat propped against pillows. “You look much improved.”

She smiled. “I almost dare hope for life. There are those for whom I would linger.”

“Not for yourself?”

“I think sometimes to join Timraen and leave this struggle.”

“Forgive me. I should not have asked.”

Maeven’s voice strengthened. “My wishes don’t enter the matter. Lof Yuel decides such things, and I would not hasten or stay His hand.”

“And what of Shae? Have you enjoyed your visit with her?”

“She comforts me.”

“I’m glad. You spoke with her, then?”

Maeven’s eyebrow arched. “I did, but not on the subject you mean.”

“No?” He couldn’t keep the disappointment from his voice.

“She returns anon, as does Elcon.”

He met her look. “I see.”

“You may see less than you think.”

He returned silence, uncertain how to respond to her pettish remark.

She sighed. “Words elude me just when I would speak them.”

He opened his mouth to comfort her, but a tap came at the outer chamber door.

“Please remain.”

“You honor me.”

“Honor doesn’t enter into it. I need to lean on your strength.”

He smiled. “I think you will find your own strength. You are, after all, Lof Raelein of Faeraven and a daughter of kings.”

“Which is why I find myself at such a pass.”

Kai could find no reply for the truth of her words. If he could shoulder her burden he would. In some ways he had borne it with her since his early life. Perhaps he would always carry the weight of her secrets, for they had molded his life.