Quatrain (34 page)

In the morning, I headed straight toward the river, following the single road that wound through Alora toward the kingdom of men. I had been obliged to accept Royven’s escort, because I knew I would be unable to find the way by myself, and Jaxon had claimed to be too busy to take me, although it was hard to guess what pressing business might occupy him. I wasn’t quite sure what Orlain would think of Royven, but somehow I suspected that the two men would not like each other.

“You may feel strange as we cross the boundary,” Royven warned me.

“A tingle. I remember from when Jaxon brought me here.”

“Stranger than that,” he said. He took my hand. “Are you ready? Straight through that patch of sun, and we’ll be on the other side of the border.”

I stepped forward eagerly, already looking for Orlain. But once I passed through the translucent bars of light, I staggered and had to take a moment to regain my balance. Royven squeezed my hand hard, or I might have fallen to the ground when my knees buckled. It was as if I had dragged myself to land after a long period afloat; I felt heavy, graceless, unmanageable. My head felt as if it had ballooned up behind my eyes, which remained small and slitted. My lungs clamped down, and my open mouth could not take in sufficient air.

“The sensations will pass in a moment,” Royven assured me, still gripping my hand tightly. “You’ll actually feel better if you keep walking.”

It
seemed
like I would feel better if I slumped to the road and let the ground take my weight, but I nodded and forced myself to continue forward. Indeed, within a few paces, I had appreciably improved, although my bones were still leaden and heavy, and my eyes continued to burn.

“I don’t see Orlain,” I said, looking around. A rush of disappointment cleared the rest of the clutter from my head. Disappointment or fear. What could have delayed him? Orlain was the most dependable man in the country. He would not break a promise unless the situation was dire.

“He’s probably waiting for you at the cairn,” Royven said reassuringly.

“No—he told Jaxon he would come
here
. To the border.”

“This place is very difficult to find,” Royven said, still in a soothing voice. “He must have realized he would get lost, and he turned back. We will go to the river, and we’ll find him there.”

“Then let’s hurry,” I said, tugging on Royven’s hand to make him move faster. I knew we had too far to go to run all the way, but I could hardly restrain myself from trying.

We had not proceeded half a mile before we saw, on the path ahead of us, a tall masculine shape striding toward us through the alternating patches of sun and shade. Even when he was completely in shadows, I recognized his silhouette, and then he stepped into a circle of light, and the sun made a brief halo of his hair.

“Orlain!” I cried, dropping Royven’s hand.

“I’ll wait here,” the aliora said, but I didn’t pay much attention. I was flying down the pathway, my arms outstretched, running toward Orlain.

I don’t know what I was thinking—that he would take me in a crushing embrace, that he would catch my hands and clasp them to his heart, that he would call out my name and drop to his knees in a feudal bow. Instead he stood stock-still in the road, his arms crossed on his chest, and the first thing he said when I skidded to a halt in front of him was, “Where’s your gold?”

It took a moment for me to understand what he meant. “What?”

“Your bracelets,” he said impatiently. “Why aren’t you wearing them?”

How had he discerned
that
in the imperfect lighting from a distance of twenty feet? “I’ve got my necklace on—see?” I said, pulling it out from under my collar. “And my earrings—”

He jerked his head to indicate the direction from which I’d come. No doubt he could see Royven lounging on the side of the road, waiting for me. “Well, a necklace and a pair of earrings don’t seem to inhibit aliora from taking your hand,” he bit out. “Don’t you think that’s a little dangerous? We’ll ignore the part where it’s a little too familiar. We’ll just pretend that it’s perfectly acceptable for a princess of Auburn to bestow her favors on anyone, no matter his rank or station.”

At that I burst into tears.

“Why is it every time I see you, you’re crying?” Orlain demanded.

“Maybe it’s because you’re so mean!” I wailed. I turned my back on him, desperately wiping at my cheeks, wishing with a bitterness I could actually taste that it had been anyone but Orlain sent to bring me news. How could I have been so eagerly looking forward to
his
visit?

“I don’t intend to be mean,” he said stiffly. “But you are very well aware of the attractive dangers that surround you in Alora, and you are equally aware of the measures that have been taken to shield you from them. And the first time I see you, it is obvious that you have cast off your talismans while blithely embracing—
literally
embracing—your foe.”

“The aliora are not my enemies,” I sobbed. “They have offered me shelter—and friendship—and—and they have not tried to hurt my feelings—”

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” Orlain said, and he did actually sound a little contrite. “But you are so thoughtless—and you are so much at risk—”

I made a great effort and forced myself to stop crying. I was a princess of the realm. I would
not
let an unsympathetic guardsman turn me into a whining child. Without turning around to face him, I said, “The least you could do is tell me the news you have brought me, without making me ask for it.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“The
news
, please?” I interrupted in a haughty voice.

After a short pause, during which I guessed he was contemplating and then deciding against an apology, he said, “Everyone you love is well. A courier from Cotteswold arrived the morning I was leaving, saying your brother is safe with your great-grandmother, and that no strangers have been seen in the village looking for him. Your parents are also unharmed.”

“What of Dirkson and his armies?”

“They have camped some distance from the castle but they have not attempted to lay siege. Your father’s forces are distinctly stronger—more soldiers answered his call than he anticipated. We speculate that Dirkson might be waiting for reinforcements from Chillain, or perhaps he is hoping to spur the countryside into an uprising. Our spies report that Brandon is very much in evidence, riding a roan horse up and down the army sidelines, showing off his red hair and his father’s countenance.”

“And people are coming to see him?”

“In significant numbers,” Orlain admitted. “But they might be merely curious. We have not noticed that Dirkson’s ranks of fighters have swelled appreciably since Brandon has paraded before the masses.”

“So what happens now?” I asked. I was still speaking to the trees, since I still had my back to Orlain. My tears had dried, but I didn’t want him to see the vulnerability that might remain on my face.

“Your father hopes to try diplomacy. He and Dirkson have sent envoys back and forth, negotiating for a time and place to meet. It is a delicate business, for neither one wants to put himself in danger. And yet if they do not talk, this stalemate could continue another week. Or even two.”

“A stalemate is better than a war,” I said.

“It is indeed,” he agreed. “Many fewer bodies.”

“But what could they negotiate
for
? Dirkson wants Brandon on the throne and my father will not relinquish it. There doesn’t appear to be a middle ground.”

“Your father has an exquisite bargaining chip,” Orlain said, his voice neutral. “You.”

For a moment I savored being called exquisite, and then I frowned at the forest. “What do you mean?”

“He could offer to merge your claims by marrying you to Brandon. It’s what I would do if I were him.”

I spun on one heel and punched Orlain hard in the stomach. I know I hurt him because he made a surprised grunting sound and his face went loose with shock. “Stop trying to marry me off in the name of politics,” I said fiercely. “I understand that you consider me nothing more than an—an asset in my father’s treasury. I understand that you have no feelings of your own. But it is cruel of you to assume that my father cares so little about my happiness. He loves me for myself, even though you find it hard to believe that anybody would.”

Orlain said nothing, just stared down at me, his eyes dark with anger or some other powerful emotion. I thought it very likely that he wanted to pick me up and shake me till my head fell off, so I decided to give him the incentive. I hauled back my right arm to hit him again.

He grabbed my wrist before I could land another blow—and then caught my left hand when I brought it up swinging. I struggled in his hold, briefly considered kicking him, and settled with merely panting, “Let me go, you wretched man.”

“Princess—stop—Zara, I apologize, all right?” he said, squeezing my hands and forcing my arms down so that the pressure brought me two steps closer. “Your father would never compel you to wed a bastard son of questionable parentage. Not even to keep peace in the realm.”

“No,” I said, “
you’re
the only one who seems determined to marry me off to whoever is the first one to show up at the castle gates, looking for an alliance. Are you that eager to see me ride away from Auburn? Do I make you that miserable just by my existence?”

I didn’t expect him to answer—what possible reply was there to such an accusation?—but his mouth tightened and he suddenly looked defeated. “No,” he said quietly. “Not at all eager for you to go. Just bracing myself for the inevitable day when it comes. Finding ways to remind myself that it will come all too soon.”

I stopped struggling in his hold and simply gaped at him.

The strangest expression crossed his face—almost a smile, almost an admission of guilt. “And there,” he said. “That’s enough ammunition for you to use against me for the rest of your life.”

“You don’t care if I marry anyone else,” I said stupidly. “You don’t even like me.”

“There are days I don’t,” he agreed.

I stamped my foot. “Don’t say things like that,” I cried. “I’m trying to understand—”

“There’s nothing
to
understand,” he interrupted. “You’re the princess. You may well be queen one day. I’m a respectable guardsman without a drop of noble blood in me. Good enough to captain your troops. Not good enough to hope for any other position in your life. And I
don’t
hope for it. But I don’t hate you, Zara. No doubt it would be easier if I did.”

“But then—if I—but let me—” I stammered.

He shook his head, released my wrists, and moved back a pace. When I stepped forward, he flung up his hands to keep me in place. “Too many words already,” he said. “But you shouldn’t wonder at it when I get angry that you don’t watch out for yourself. You are too precious to too many people. You must take care.”

“Don’t leave yet,” I said.

“I must,” he said. “Your parents are hungry for news of you.”

“When will you be back?”

“In ten days. And ten days after that.”

“I wish you would stay,” I whispered.

His face shaped the barest memory of a smile. “Someone must be ready to rescue you from the consequences of Alora,” he said. “And to do that, I think I must remain outside its borders.”

“I will not succumb to Alora’s magic,” I said.

“I hope that’s true,” he replied. “Promise me you’ll put your bracelets back on immediately.”

“I promise,” I said. I gulped down another plea for him to stay and said, in the most regal voice I could summon, “And you swear to return in ten days.”

“Princess, I swear.” He briefly touched his fist to his forehead. “May the news be better by then.”

I tried to think of something else to say. I tried to think of something else to ask that would make him admit he cared for me. None of the words would come. He waited for a moment, as if hoping I could frame the right question. Then he nodded and smartly turned around. He went striding back through the forest, away from Alora, away from me.

I watched him go, battling back tears. I might have stood there forever, convincing myself that I could still make out his straight shape through the rustling shadows, except Royven slipped up beside me and took my hand in his. I should have pulled away, I should have resisted his touch—I knew it—but my need for comfort was so great just then that I could not shake myself free. Indeed, I leaned against him, just the tiniest bit, and felt the rush of well-being that the slightest contact with an aliora brings.

“What was the news from Auburn?” he asked in a gentle voice.

“Little enough, but none of it bad,” I said. “At the moment there appears to be a stalemate and some negotiation. Not true war, at least not yet.”

“But the danger has not yet passed?”

“Oh, no.”

“Then we have you for some time yet.”

I gave him a reproachful look. “You should not be happy that
my
life continues so unsettled.”

“I know I shouldn’t,” he said simply. “But I cannot help being a little glad at anything that keeps you nearby, no matter how briefly.”

I should have been furious. I should have been insulted. For he as good as welcomed war if it meant I could not go home. But it was unbearably sweet to have someone want me—and admit he wanted me. I gave him a sad smile and, hand in hand, we once more crossed the living border of Alora, back into that sweet, treacherous land.