decision. The burden of being a Rul, though a disposed one, lay
heavy on Kyne’s shoulders. Would that he could pass this choice
to another. No. The woman’s fate belonged to no other.
He shook his head. “How can I waver in this? When she
put pen to paper asking Aubin to meet her, then betrayed him to
her father, she signed her own death warrant. Nothing she does
now can change what went before. I will use her to lure her
father from the safety of his fortress. They will stand trial for
their crimes and die together.” The words tasted bitter. How
much more so would be the act?
The weight of Graham’s hand on his shoulder gave Kyne
little comfort. “I don’t envy you your duty, my friend. But
don’t be too quick to jump to judgement. Things are often not
as they might first seem. If evil can disguise itself as innocence,
perhaps innocence can be hidden by evil.
“Je’al left after sunrise. It will be at least five days before
we can expect DiSanti’s response. What will you do with her if
he refuses the bait and abandons her?”
What would he do? Nothing was clear anymore.
“I wish I knew.”
SIX
Familiar, pungent scents surrounded Sianna as she carefully
inventoried Althea’s dwindling store of herbs and medicines.
Warda, his sensitive nose repelled by the strong odors, lay just
outside the door to the castle’s herb room. Supplies ran
desperately low.
Alt root, used to relieve pain and swelling, was nearly gone,
and only a handful of dried maca leaves for poultices remained.
Other less critical herbs and medicines were depleted. Too old
and kept too busy, Althea no longer scoured the mountainside
and valley for her medicines, but instead made do with what
was at hand. Sianna needed to restock or risk their patients’
lives.
This morning was perfect. The remaining sick and injured
didn’t require her attention, and the weather was clear. Her
decision to gather herbs made, she wasted no time. As she had
no intention of fleeing, her promise not to leave the castle seemed
irrelevant. Taking only a large cloth bag, a small knife and a
digging tool, she headed out of the castle.
Little note was made of her passing. People came and
went throughout the day, going into the valley below to harvest
what few crops they had managed to plant or to the woods to
hunt. The gatekeeper waved her through with a smile.
Despite the cool mountain air, the sun beat warm on her
head and shoulders. Redolent of moist earth and pine, the crisp
air cleared the odor of illness from her lungs. Like a minstrel’s
multi-hued cloak, red, gold and brown foliage covered the
mountainside, warning of the coming winter, but this day summer
still held sway.
Eyes alert, nose twitching, Warda ranged ahead, then
behind, but ever vigilant, he never strayed far from her side.
“We won’t find what we need following this well-worn
trail. Come along,” she told the hound and cut across the open
meadow surrounding the castle toward the steeper slopes. “Alt
root prefers the higher reaches, just above the tree line, while
maca trees favor the damp soil along streams. Perhaps we’ll
find a patch of nika. If I’m careful, I might be able to dig some
roots.”
As if in response to her words, Warda lowered his head
and growled.
“Yes, I know how your master feels about nika, but don’t
let his prejudices blind you to the plant’s benefits. Nika root is
so much better for pain reduction than alt. Still, I doubt I’ll find
a patch at this elevation, so don’t worry.”
Though she knew the hound didn’t understand her words,
she felt better for speaking them.
Throughout the day she searched and gathered, her bag
growing heavier. With only bird song and the breeze rustling
through the trees to disturb the quiet, peace settled over Sianna.
Engrossed in this well known and restful task, she moved up
and over the next ridge, out of sight of the castle. In the shade
of a towering maca tree, Warda kept watch while she worked.
His presence reminded her of his enigmatic master—Rul Cathor.
Pulling the last stubborn alt root from the ground, she leaned
back on her heels and wiped the sweat from her face, leaving
a moist brown streak.
“Why can’t I read your master’s emotions?” she asked
the hound. “Being near him makes me feel safe and warm, yet
I know he despises me for being my father’s daughter. If he
knew I’m not Laila, would he still hate me? Can what he believes
of my father be true? I came home with so many hopes. If I
thought Father sought to marry me to Prince Timon for my best
interest, I would do so despite my doubts. But I fear Kyne may
be right. My father thinks only of his needs. To my father I’m
nothing more than a tool to further his own ends. Now I’ve
become Kyne’s tool to use against him.”
The Sisters of Light had loved and valued her for her
contribution to their valetudinarian. Her father valued her for
the power he could gain through her marriage. Kyne valued
her as a way to exact vengeance. Would anyone ever value
her as the person she was?
Pain lanced across her shoulders as she stretched to remove
the kinks from her back.
Warda whined and nudged her. Only then did she notice
the lengthening shadows. Her stomach reminded her she hadn’t
stopped for mid-meal before leaving the castle, and the time
for last meal approached rapidly.
“I believe we should head home,” she told Warda. “Home.
I like the sound of the word. Already the castle feels like home.
The people, Zoa—Betha, and the others—welcome me as
though I belong. Even Althea, quiet as she is, makes me feel
wanted and needed. Would that my father had received me so.
Laila welcomed me, but we had so little time to know each
other.”
Only Katya’s hostile attitude and Graham’s wary looks
disturbed Sianna’s contentment, reminding her of her precarious
situation. Her silent deception. She refused to consider what
Kyne made her feel. What she wanted from him. Though selfish,
she wished things could go on as they were forever.
She looked around in confusion. Concentrating on locating
the roots and herbs, she had paid little attention to where she
wandered. The land around her looked unfamiliar. “I think we’re
lost.” A shiver of apprehension coursed through her.
Warda jumped to his feet and started away. With a relieved
laugh, Sianna rose and followed. Of course, the hound would
know the way.
Pleased with her haul, she followed Warda, eager for
Betha’s cooking and a soft bed. Bed. Her steps faltered. Last
night after her bath, despite her exhaustion, she lay awake for
hours waiting for Kyne to return to his chamber, but he never
came. When she woke, only the rumpled covers gave any
indication he’d lain beside her. Would he join her this night?
What would he expect of her?
Though innocent, Sianna’s work in the valetudinarian gave
her knowledge of what went on between men and women.
The thought of sharing her body with Kyne did not make her
tremble in fear.
Foolishness, she chided herself. Kyne hated who he thought
she was. Why would he want to join his flesh with hers?
At first the low rumble she heard sounded like distant
thunder, but the sky with its streaks of pink and purple held no
storm clouds. She stopped and listened. The ground vibrated
beneath her feet.
Warda gave a booming bark.
“What’s wrong?”
Ahead, the trail curved through the trees. Sianna stood
frozen as three quinar rounded the bend and barreled toward
her. At the last moment, the animals slid to a stop in front of her,
throwing up dust and bits of earth. She clutched her bag and
cringed.
“There she is!”
Though she could see little through her watering eyes,
Sianna recognized Katya’s caustic voice and the jumbled, hostile
emotions emanating from the young woman.
“I told you she’d try to escape, Kyne,” Katya continued.
“Escape?” Sianna held up her bag. “I wasn’t trying to
escape. I was collecting herbs.”
Katya snorted her disbelief, her glare promising retribution.
Infected by her mood, her quinar pranced restlessly beneath
her.
Kyne moved his quinar between Sianna and Katya in an
unconsciously protective gesture. “You and Graham head back,
I’ll bring the woman. She’ll not escape me.”
His exasperated tone cut at Sianna’s pride. “I’m not so
witless as to attempt to flee through unfamiliar mountains.”
The three ignored her protest.
Graham laughed. “Think you can handle the fugitive?”
A balm to her spirit, Graham’s humor eased the bite of
Katya’s accusation and Kyne’s annoyance.
“Be gone, old man, before I handle you.” At Graham’s
gentle teasing, some of the heat left Kyne’s voice.
“As if you could, pup. We’ll see you back at the castle.
Mind you don’t lose your way.”
Graham and Katya turned their mounts and rode away,
leaving Sianna to face Kyne. He dismounted and strode
forward. She reached out to him empathetically, but beyond
the temper building in his eyes, she sensed nothing. In the
shadow of the trees she shivered, but not from the cooling air.
Like a physical presence, fear and anger preceded him.
He lifted his arm. Refusing to cower or plead, she straightened
her shoulders and faced him. “Will you kill me now?”
Surprise flickered across Kyne’s face.
With a menacing growl, Warda moved in front of her and
lowered his head. Hackles raised, he crouched, ready to spring.
“Warda. No.” She gripped the hound’s ruff. No matter
Kyne’s intent, she couldn’t let the hound harm him.
Kyne stopped, stared at the hound, then threw back his
head and laughed, the tension draining from his body. “Even
you befriend her, Warda.” His laughter faded and he looked at
her. “Are you a witch, little Daughter of Light, that all succumb
to your appeal? Zoa and Etam speak of nothing but what Sianna
says. Betha sings your praises. In only a day, order has come
to Castle Vareck, and even I must admit it is by your doing.
What spell have you cast over us?”
Head high, shoulders back, she faced him. “I am no witch.
Merely a woman. And I wasn’t trying to escape.”
“I know. Why are you wandering about? Sardak and big
cats call this forest home. You would make them a tasty snack.
Even Warda is no match for a hungry sardak.”
Sianna shuddered at the thought.
Kyne’s gaze searched her face, and he trailed his fingertips
across her cheek. “You have mud on you.”
A shiver coursed through her body at his tantalizing touch.
“I didn’t think. The medicinal herbs were running low. I
only wanted to restock supplies.”
“You didn’t lie when you claimed to be a healer, did you?”
He gave her a look of troubled acceptance, as if he could not
reconcile his beliefs about her with what his eyes told him.
“I never lie...or I try never to lie,” she amended with a
flash of guilt.
His dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Then you’re a better
person than most. Lies come easier than truth to most people.”
Bitterness laced his voice.
His words told her someone had hurt him with their lies.
Her skin still tingling from his touch, she prayed her lie would
not.
“Come. It grows dark. We must return to the castle. Next
time you wish to hunt for herbs, tell me and I’ll arrange for an
escort.” His voice low and gruff with some emotion she could
not determine, he held out his hand.
She hesitated. Unable to sense his emotions, she both feared
and craved physical contact with this man—her captor, her
protector. Only through touch would she see into his heart, but
did she really want to know what lay there? Could she bear the
pain if she discovered he hated her? Why did she care?
She paused too long. A spasm of irritation crossed his face.
He dropped his hand to his side and whirled about. With long,
the saddle. “Don’t dally. Sardak prefer to hunt at night.”
In stunned disbelief, she watched him ride away. He’d left
her. Where once she thought the forest a peaceful refuge, now
the dusky shadows seemed to harbor unseen dangers. Warda
whined anxiously and trotted forward a few steps before turning
back to her.
She stiffened, refusing to falter and allow him to cow her
with unfounded fear. The forest held no more menace now
than before. Only his dire warnings darkened the atmosphere
around her. If his counsel had merit or if he mistrusted her
intent to return, he would not leave her to find her way back
alone. Would he? What lay in his heart that she could not see?
Gripping the hound’s ruff for confidence, she said, “Let’s
go home, Warda.”
***
Just around the bend, Kyne pulled Hakan to a halt in a
small clearing and waited. As much as he wished to avoid her
company, he couldn’t leave the little witch to find her way home
alone. Worse perils than big cats and sardak faced a lone
woman. Though his people patrolled the area around the castle
and guarded the passes, other less honorable men skulked in
the rough terrain. They wouldn’t hesitate to take what they
wanted from a woman and leave the rest for the four-legged
scavengers.
The thought of Sianna’s slim body used and broken sent a
surge of fury through him. As Rul he alone must decide her
fate, not leave it to chance. Until the time came to pass
judgement, he would keep her safe.
He leaned forward in eage
r anticipation and looked out
over the valley, waiting for what would soon come. The setting
sun cast a warm glow over the clearing and the valley below.
Like a molten ball of gold crystal, the sun dipped lower. Birds,
busy settling for the coming night, chirped and sang, a chorus
of noise. Then it happened. The birds fell silent. A hush
descended over the mountain. Nature seemed to hold its breath
as the rays struck the blue crystal cliffs rising behind him.
“Oh, my,” Sianna gasped in awe.
Relieved at her presence, he looked down at her.
Never taking her gaze from the scene spread out in front
of them, she stepped to his side.
A soft, blue glow enveloped the mountainside and valley,
draining the brilliant hues of harvest color, leaving behind a world
of shimmering azure. In the strange flash of light, trees, plants
and even rocks became fragile crystal sculptures.
“I didn’t know anything could be so beautiful.” Eyes
sparkling with delight, lips parted in a gasp of pleasure, she
gazed at the scene.
Her awe loosened the tight knot within him. “Legend has it
that if you’re pure of heart and follow the last of the blue rays
of light, you’ll find the mythical land of Andacor hidden deep
within the mountains.”
“Andacor?” She turned her gaze to him.
“When I was a lad, my mother would tell me tales of
Andacor to lull me to sleep. A land of peace and love, where
knowledge is sought for its own sake rather than to use against
others for gain. She even claimed a blood kinship with the
Andacorians through her mother.” Kyne laughed harshly. “My
sweet, gentle mother was a fool. There is no such place.”
“Is it foolish to wish for peace? To desire love? If I were
pure of heart I would follow the light and count myself fortunate
to be allowed to search. Whether or not Andacor is a place of
substance or merely a dream, men should strive to find it.”
In the blue dusk Sianna appeared ethereal, a delicate figure
of spun crystal. Hardly a cold, hardhearted woman who calmly
plotted with her father to murder her lover. Just who was she?
Sianna, daughter of light, healer? Or Laila, born of the night,
murderer?
Desire blossomed in him. He wanted this woman with a
longing that overcame his self disgust.