Leaves of Flame (22 page)

The fact that this would change, that it was inevitable, disturbed him enough he set his knife and fork down, suddenly no longer hungry. He reached for his wine instead.

“And it doesn’t bother you?”

Moiran looked surprised. “That he will learn from his mistakes?”

Colin smiled. “No, that one day the House will be his.”

She chuckled, shaking her head before looking Colin in the eye. He didn’t know what she saw there, but the smile on her lips faltered and she straightened, one hand reaching for his arm again. “Colin, I have served as the Tamaea, whose sole purpose aside from leading the ladies of all of the other Houses in the Ilvaeren was to raise the heirs to the Alvritshai throne. I spent nearly all of my life preparing Thaedoren and his brother Daedelan for their rise to power. This role didn’t change when Fedorem died and I was bonded to Aeren. Only the scale. I’ve spent the last thirty years preparing Fedaureon to take Aeren’s place.” She squeezed his arm. “You, of all people, should be aware of how time changes everything.”

“Yes, I am. And yet you and Aeren have been the one constant presence in my life since I returned from drinking from the Well.”

Moiran frowned.“But we will die,Shaeveran.You know that.”

“I know it, but that does not mean I have accepted it.”

Moiran searched his face a long moment, concerned. Eraeth sat to one side, listening to Fedaureon and Aeren’s conversation intently, although he’d been watching Colin and Moiran. Colin couldn’t read his expression, but when he turned aside, a troubled look passed over the Protector’s face. His gaze paused on Siobhaen, then dropped to consider Aeren before growing distant with thought.

Eventually, the conversation and focus on food died down, everyone settling back in their seats with glasses of wine close by, a mood of satiation and contentment settling over the room. The tautness in Fedaureon’s face and body had released, and even Colin felt some of the stresses of the harsh travel falling away. He slumped in his chair, adjusting his position as pain shot up from his mostly-healed side. Silence settled, broken only by the crackle of the fire in the hearth and the occasional heavy sigh.

Until Hiroun yawned. The Phalanx guardsman had nearly nodded off where he sat twice already, his head lowering, eyes slowly closing, before jerking up at the last minute.

Aeren smiled and Moiran chuckled.

With a significant glance toward her husband, Moiran rose and said, “I think we should allow our guests to retire for the evening,Fedaureon.They have returned from a long journey and, so I’ve gathered, will be leaving us again shortly.”

“Not all of us,” Colin said.

Her eyebrows lifted, but she said nothing. Fedaureon stood as the rest rose as well, all except Aeren and Colin.

“Hiroun,” Moiran said, “if you could escort Siobhaen to her quarters, I’ll see that the rest of the rooms are prepared.”

Siobhaen nodded.“Thank you,Lady Moiran.It has been a pleasure being a guest of your House.”

The two left, Hiroun leading Siobhaen, although she could not have been unaware of the second guardsman who fell in behind them both. Colin expected Moiran and Fedaureon to depart as well, but they both stayed. As servants began clearing away the plates and serving trays, the relaxed atmosphere died and Colin suddenly realized that he would not be retiring to his rooms as early as he had thought, not based on the looks that fell on him from Aeren and Fedaureon. Eraeth, strangely, did not want to face him. But Moiran picked up on the tension in the room and settled back into her seat.

“It seems there is still something left to discuss,” she murmured, then motioned for a servant to bring another decanter of wine.

“So it would seem,” Colin said, and let some annoyance creep into his voice as he leaned forward,“although I’m not certain what it could be.”

“It’s Siobhaen,” Fedaureon blurted.

“More specifically, the Order of the Flame and Lotaern,” Aeren added.

A thread of anger began niggling its way up from Colin’s stomach. “We’ve already been over this on the return trip. More than once. You cannot come with me and Siobhaen to the east.” He turned on Fedaureon before the boy could speak, the youth already drawing breath, “And neither can you!”

Moiran stiffened in her chair, a small motion but one that sent ripples through the room. “You will not go wherever it is you’re planning to go,Aeren.Not this time.You or Fedaureon.”

The finality in her voice rang through the room like the clear tones of a bell.

“He knows that, Moiran. We’ve already discussed it. I thought we’d agreed.”

Aeren shook his head.“That was before I knew what has been happening since we left.”

Colin shot a glance at Moiran, saw her frown. “What’s happening?”

“Remember on our way to the Hauttaeran Mountains how Siobhaen and the other members of the Flame were stopping at nearly every temple, ostensibly for prayer and reflection?”

“Yes.”

“It wasn’t just Siobhaen and Vaeren,” Eraeth said, his voice low.

“What do you mean?”

Aeren hesitated, caught Moiran’s gaze, then motioned toward Fedaureon.

The youth leaned forward. “Approximately twenty days after you left, a member of the Order of the Flame along with a few escorting acolytes arrived inArtillien.They were welcomed at the temple in the town below, of course, and once we heard of their arrival we informed them that Lord Aeren was not present, but invited this member of the Flame and his party here to the manse nonetheless.”

“We were politely but fi rmly refused,” Moiran interjected.

“We sent out House guardsmen to inquire in the surrounding area, including the adjacent Houses of Baene and Nuant. There are dozens of these groups in all three House lands, moving from temple to temple, staying longer in the larger towns and cities.”

“What are they doing?” Colin asked.

Moiran shook her head.“Nothing except what the Order has always done for the people. They are performing services. More often than usual, and perhaps with more precision and dedication, but nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Nothing that we can use to force the members of the Flame and their escorts to withdraw,” Aeren said.

“And that is precisely the reaction that we’ve heard from the other ladies and lords we’ve sent messages to,” Moiran said. “The continued presence of the Flame—even a single member—makes everyone uneasy. Their actions are unsettling.We want them to withdraw,to return to Caercaern—”

“But they’ve done nothing that will allow us to request it of Lotaern.”

“And worse, the people have been flocking to the temples to see them, to see the rituals performed with all of their subtle nuances, with the flare of Aielan’s Light in the fires at the end and the sprinkling of the waters over those crowded into the hall.”She shook her head.“They are there for the spectacle, for the relief of the winter boredom now that the last of the harvests are in and the snows are heavier, and yes, some are there for true religious reasons, but it doesn’t matter why they are going.What matters is that they are being drawn in. I fear they are being seduced.”

Fedaureon had fallen silent as his mother and father went back and forth. Colin felt badgered on both sides, Aeren to his left and Moiran to his right, even though Moiran had been speaking mostly to Aeren, her eyes watching him, not Colin.

Aeren drew in a deep breath. “After all of this activity, and after what happened at the Well with Vaeren, we cannot trust Siobhaen, regardless of the fact that she stayed at the Well to uphold Aielan’s Light to save us all. That sacrifice may not have been a sacrifice at all; it may have been planned.”

Colin’s eyes widened.“You think that Lotaern knew that the Wraith and the Shadows would be there? That he knew I’d be incapacitated and he rigged it so that Siobhaen could gain our trust? You have more faith in Lotaern’s abilities than I do.”

“You said yourself that you knew of Lotaern’s intentions to gain the knife before you even departed from Caercaern,” Eraeth countered.

“Yes, but I do not think he had a specific plan for how to do that. He sent Vaeren and Siobhaen and the others with me so that
if the opportunity arose
they could retrieve the knife. I didn’t expect the opportunity to arise, but Vaeren seized the moment when it did.”

“And now Lotaern has the knife and is obviously using the Flame for something else throughout Alvritshai lands. Yet you insist on traveling to the dwarren with a woman who is a potential traitor and with no protection.”

Colin smiled coldly.“You don’t think I can handle her on my own?”

“You have to sleep at some point, Shaeveran,” Eraeth said.

The use of his Alvritshai name cut off Colin’s bitter response. After a moment of silence, he said, “You may be correct about Siobhaen. But as Moiran has pointed out, you and Fedaureon are needed here, to protect Rhyssal House interests in Caercaern and to protect its lands. You cannot allow the incursion of the Flame through Alvritshai lands to go unchallenged. You’ll have to go to Caercaern. Which means Fedaureon will have to remain here to watch over your House and lands. There is no one else I would trust to accompany me and Siobhaen.”

Aeren frowned at the blunt summary, at a loss for words. Fedaureon glanced toward his father, uncertain of what to say, then to Daevon.

Then Eraeth said, “I will go.”

Colin would have sworn he heard a gasp, even though no one made a sound. But everyone stilled, Moiran drawing in a breath and holding it. Her gaze danced back and forth between Aeren and Eraeth, neither of the two looking toward the other, and Eraeth holding himself stiffly. His stance looked uncomfortable.

Only Fedaureon dared to speak.“But you’re my father’s Protector.”

“That does not mean that he needs to be near me at all times,Fedaureon.He has left my side before.”Aeren shifted in his chair, twisting to look at Eraeth. “If this is what you wish, I will not forbid it.”

Aeren’s voice was carefully controlled. Colin could not read anything from it, could not tell whether Aeren approved or disapproved, was angry or elated or even surprised.

The silence held, everyone waiting for Eraeth’s response. He finally looked at Aeren. “It is the best solution to the current problem. One that satisfies everyone, I believe.”

He looked at Colin questioningly, as if asking whether or not Colin trusted him. But there was no question. Eraeth had carried Colin from the battlefield at the Escarpment, had taught him Alvritshai, had done countless other things since. He trusted Eraeth as much, if not more, than Aeren himself.

But he had not thought Eraeth would separate himself from Aeren’s side. He had before, on Aeren’s order, but never like this.Not for an extended period of time.And not at his own suggestion.

Moiran glared in protest, although she did not speak, obviously restraining herself.

Aeren finally nodded. “Then so be it.”

Colin left the warmth of his rooms in the Rhyssal House manse and moved through the darkened halls toward the secluded gardens on the promontory of rock overlooking the lake. He paused outside the great room that was also Aeren’s study, heard the low murmur of voices, recognized Aeren’s and Moiran’s, their tones intense and fraught with worry and tension, so he moved on, past the kitchens where a few servants saw him but did not approach, and then through the outer doors.

The night air was biting, but he did not turn back. He breathed it in deeply, let it scour his lungs clean, then closed the doors behind him and made his way into the gardens. They were designed for relaxation, the pathways curling in and out among rock and bush and tree, nearly all of the plants dead and denuded of leaves by winter. A few conifers, carefully sculpted into windswept layers by the gardeners under Moiran’s supervision, appeared black in the moonlight. He passed through them, over stone or wooden bridges with ponds frozen beneath, through a few drifts of snow that had piled up from the winds during the day, until he stood on the wide wooden terrace that had been built over the edge of the stone promontory. Resting his hands on the railing, the breeze gusting into his face, reddening his skin, he stared out over the black water, flecked with reflected light from the moon above.

He tried to think of nothing. But all he could see in the black surface below was the movement of the Lifeblood underground, the pull of the current as whatever Walter had done—and he knew in his gut it had been Walter— drew it eastward.

In the back of his mind, he heard the Wraith that had attacked them at the Well whisper,
We are already moving, our armies already in motion. This is merely the removal of an . . . annoyance.

He snorted at the insult, but frowned. What armies had the Wraith meant? Were the Shadows on the move? And what of the other Wraiths? They had never established exactly how many there were, and if Walter had found another source of the Lifeblood besides the Wells that Colin had warded, he could be creating even more.

His hands tightened on the polished wooden railing as the old, bitter hatred filled the back of his throat with the taste of bile. It seethed inside him, as the Lifeblood did, roiling to the surface like the black marks beneath his skin.