Past of Shadows Page 8

  “Her sister has seen to her needs,” King Edulf smiled for the first time. “The chamber is better furnished than my own.” The king looked over at Silas. “I can give you the younger if you want.”

  Silas shook his head. He had no desire to be betrothed to a child, who would give him nothing, losing her magic the moment they married. “I am honored at the offer, but if I can politely refuse. I offered for her sister only for the betterment of Scarladin.”

  “Your dedication to our great realm has been duly noted,” King Edulf acknowledged. “In truth, I have another task in mind for you, my grandson.”

  “Your Grace, I’m yours to command,” Silas said with reverence according to his grandfather’s station in life.

  King Edulf seemed pleased. “I want you to oversee the heir apparent as you did your brother before him. Train him for the path in front of us. You will ease the worries of an old man to know that he will leave his kingdom in the strong hands of my blood.” King Edulf sat back, gesturing for more wine. “Now, let us turn our attention to who killed my grandson.”

  * * * *

  Silas returned to his apartment, tired, hungry and annoyed. He wanted nothing more than a hot meal, bath and Juye, his paramour. He needed a good fuck.

  Walking in from the balcony, he was greeted with the smell of freshly cooked pork and bread, but his dreams of a short supper dissipated quickly. His sister, Belasquita, sat at his table. “What in Hade’s name are you doing here?”

  Belasquita smiled, a smile Silas had seen a million times in his youth. She wanted something.

  “I had heard you have been busy these last few days,” she said. She wore a gown of crimson, trimmed in Azmaion gold lace, complimenting her complexion. Braided off her face, her long blonde hair flowed down below her shoulders as her large deep blue eyes flashed at him. “Is it a crime to ensure the welfare of my only surviving brother?”

  “You have never cared before, little sister.”

  Silas sat down at the other end of the table and poured a drink. Taking a sip, he asked, “Where, pray tell, are my servants?”

  “I dismissed them for the time being,” she answered in a voice as soft as silk. “I had need to talk to you in private without fear of being overheard.”

  “I take it Juye as well. You do realize this is her home.”

  “At the present moment,” Belasquita said. “But do not worry. Your whore will return presently. I have never understood your need to have two households. Everyone knows of your mistress.”

  “For peace and solitude,” Silas’ voice was heavy and blunt. “Be quick with your request. I’m tired and have not the patience for your antics.”

  “I want to know of our new found cousins, Silas.”

  Leaning over the table, he reached for the meat and took a huge bite. He chomped loudly, staring at Belasquita, who laughed at him for his childish behavior.

  “Come, Brother, I am going nowhere until we have come to an understanding.”

  “And what will that be?”

  “Do not play games. The court is ablaze with rumors. Axel is dead…the long thought dead prince has returned…and a Euchoun.”

  Silas slammed down his cup. The table shook. “Where did you hear that?”

  “Mother, who I imagine heard it from Lord Pigoc,” she began. “Truly, it makes no difference, only that she is here. Which poses a problem for both of us it seems?”

  “It is no problem for me.” Silas frowned.

  “Isn’t it?” Belasquita persisted. “Grandfather foolishly promised her to Prince Pieter.”

  “He was tricked,” Silas said. “Prince Pieter is nothing more than a charlatan. Falco told to us the prince was there the day that the girl exposed her power. Then, he sat about to fool the king, knowing no one would suspect what she truly was.”

  “It matters only that we cannot let the union happen.”

  “It is the first thing that you said that I agree with.” Silas’s interest peaked. “How, dear sister, do you propose that we put a stop to it?”

  KELA

  Walk in the Bailey

  In the mornings, Kela found herself looking forward to the start of the day. Over three months had passed. She had still not been acknowledged nor had she been removed from the cell she had woken on her arrival in Yucca.

  Yet, Kela was not a prisoner.

  She woke most days to the enjoyment of a bath that Sareta supplied for her. She took pleasure that the tub would be filled with steaming water, in which she soaked herself for an eternity with no concern for privacy. Sareta took care of that issue, as well.

  Sareta conjured up a curtain on the watcher’s eye in Kela’s cell. Then, she transported Kela to her chamber. Much more comfortable than Kela’s dank cell.

  It was such fun for the two sisters to play these games.

  Sareta enjoyed this time they had together, just the two of them. No one else could know or their games would stop.

  Though, there was one.

  He came to Kela shortly after Sareta and she began their adventures. Prince Silas Calledwdele was her direct cousin, being his father was Kela’s half-brother. He had been the only visitor.

  Kela remembered from that night. He had been the one to recognize her powers…ordered her to be taken.

  Silas came unannounced before the evening sun set. Handsome, she supposed. His dark yellow hair was tied back in a queue, as was the custom of Sordarins. He had a look that reminded her of Falco. His brown eyes shone with confidence as he regarded her curiously.

  “I beg your pardon, Kela. You must excuse me being so bold and using your given name, but we are cousins.”

  “That is what I hear, but I have been told nothing, not even why I’m being held in a cell.”

  “It is for your protection. You have my word.” He smiled, a smile that most would have found charming. She did not.

  “That is strange,” she replied. “For there was a rumor that I was being charged with killing Prince Axel.”

  “You were not seriously considered.” Silas sighed. “Not that the power you exhibited could not have caused a death, but the villain that killed my brother was a coward. He knifed Axel in the back.”

  “Then why am I here?” Kela asked suspicious of his motive for this visit.

  “I told you—for your protection,” Silas repeated. “The king sent me to assure that you are comfortable.” He glanced around the cell. “It seems you are.”

  “Because of my sister,” she retorted. “Why am I here and not with my family?”

  “Think, dear cousin. You are how old?”

  “Twelve…thirteen,” Kela answered, almost forgetting she had had another nameday.

  “You are old enough to realize how important Euchouns are to our realm. More than that, how important it is to be inconspicuous…especially a female.”

  “You doubt my ability?” Kela challenged.

  “Quite the opposite.” His tone turned serious. “I will not mince words. There is a danger emerging within Yucca. That night we came to bring your family home, someone murdered my brother. Do you know what I believe?”

  Kela stared at him in confusion, not knowing what game he was playing. Despite her protest, she was no more than a child. She had no guidance, no Turstan, Falco, or even Guilda.

  Pulling her shoulders back, she raised her gaze to meet his. “I have no idea.”

  “I believe their intent was to murder you and your family. When we came, we were not supposed to attack, only to retrieve you and yours. Then came the cry of a Brixtone ambush. If not for your powers, there is the distinct possibility you would not have survived, at least not Falco.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You are now in the court of King Edulf. There are many dangers that lurk in the dark.”

  Pondering his words, suddenly, they became clear. “You believe that because they could not kill us, they turned on your brother in hopes of creating chaos.”

  “It would be wise to trust no o
ne.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “For you need to understand,” he said sternly. “You have a different path than your siblings. I have never heard of a female being a Euchoun, much less one with the power you displayed. A gift some say… others claim it is a curse.”

  “A curse? Never.” Anger coiled inside of her at the suggestion.

  “Then you are foolish. The life of a Euchoun is one of sacrifice.” He gave her a sharp look. Then, he laughed. “I suppose now is not the time to tell you what is ahead for you. Instead, let me give you permission.”

  “Permission to do what?”

  “To see at least your sister. The king sees no harm in the interaction, as long as it is done in secret, which with your sister’s magic can be done.”

  “Why then do I have to stay here?”

  “The king’s order,” he said. “I’m not going to repeat myself. There are matters that are unsettled about you, but know that the king is going to protect you for not only are you a Euchoun, but his granddaughter. Calledwdeles protect their own.”

  Silas, as he told Kela to call him, went into great detail about the family. A family she had little knowledge of…His father, Prince Fenwick; his mother, Lady Dagmar; his sister, Belasquita, who was born a year after Silas who had seen nineteen name days and the dead prince, Axel. King Edulf’s only daughter, Iris, and her husband, Archibaldus, Lord of Runswick, who had three daughters of their own: Amicia, the eldest, the same age as Kela, and the twins, Wymarcha and Cinara, a year older than Sareta.

  He said he remembered her father. “A brave Sordarin. One I greatly admired…and have aspired to be like him.”

  Upon the mention of Kela’s father, she softened toward him.

  Silas left with an understanding. He gave his word he would look after Falco. She gave hers that she wouldn’t try to contact her brother.

  Kela couldn’t deny that she was disappointed when she learned that the king had commanded Sareta to shield Falco’s ability to communicate with her.

  The reason was clear, Silas said, “Falco does not need a distraction.”

  There were stipulations to her limited freedom, but those she could abide. Though she did not trust Silas fully, Kela took comfort that her siblings were well and, also, in the knowledge that Sareta had the ability to transport the two of them if the need arose.

  In the end, Kela had few complaints.

  The two sisters talked more than they even had. Kela discovered that Sareta was nervous about all the attention bestowed upon her.

  “Do you want to leave?” Sareta asked. “We, two. We could go upon our own. We can’t be separated. Not yet, Kela.”

  “I will never abandon you, Sareta. We will stay for now. Do not worry about me. I will deal with all that I have to face, knowing that we are together.” Kela moved over to Sareta’s side and hugged her tightly. “Talk to me about your life in court. I want to hear everything.”

  Sareta’s passive nature seemed to draw from Kela’s strength. Sareta told Kela all about her new life.

  Kela took heart to find that their aunt had taken Sareta into her family with open arms.

  Aunt Iris had a great love for her older brother, Mithelk, and his wife, Eufamia. Iris had knowledge of their mother’s home and magic, more so than Kela believed the king had. She encouraged Sareta to listen and learn all she could.

  Time passed. If the truth be known, Kela was quite enjoying herself. The bars had no hold on her. Sareta had seen that Kela had her freedom. The two were closer than they had ever been. There were days when they would ride in the countryside by Pariti Lake. Other days, they would picnic by the river’s edge.

  Guilda had never allowed the girls the independence they had during those days. With the help of Sareta’s magic, Kela and Sareta walked through the streets without a second glance. They played in the gardens with other children of the castles, a liberty the two would never have been given in ordinary circumstances.

  It was on one of these bright mornings that a plan came to Kela. She had been grateful for the time she had had with her sister. Yet, she had a deep need to see her brother…to talk to Falco.

  If Kela sneaked into the barracks, she would dishonor her brother, which she would never do. Her warden, as she now thought of Silas, had watchful eyes on Kela that never allowed her to wander close to Falco. But she had another who had Falco’s ear—Turstan.

  Her word to Silas forgotten, Kela’s idea was simple. Cassie, the cook’s daughter, would deliver Turstan a message from Kela. Cassie would merely tell Turstan to meet Kela in the Royal Gardens with the new sun of the dawning day.

  Cassie readily agreed to Kela’s request. She had become Kela’s first true friend. The two had met quite by accident on one of Kela’s venture into the bailey.

  At times, Sareta only saw to Kela’s freedom for the day. Sareta had responsibilities that came from being a royal. On this day, music lessons had called Sareta back to the castle, leaving Kela alone in the Royal Gardens.

  Bored waiting for Sareta’s return, Kela climbed up on the narrow stone border of the Sundaze Fountain. She promptly fell into the fountain at the same moment two guards were patrolling.

  Immediately, the guards yelled and ran toward her. Afraid of being discovered, Kela scrambled out of the water and ran. Racing through the atrium, a hand reached for Kela and pulled her down behind the rodina bush covered its large, fragrant blooms.

  The bushes had huge thorn leaves, a perfect place to hide. Cassie led Kela through the broad branches with ease. Ducking down, the two watched the guards hunting for Kela. When the guards gave up their search, Cassie smiled.

  Kela would come to know that Cassie always smiled.

  The two girls giggled and embraced.

  A friendship formed.

  The girls were of the similar age and height. Though Kela had not dared share who she really was, Kela told Cassie her father had been a warrior for King Edulf. Cassie had showed no hesitation in sharing her life with Kela.

  Kela had met Cassie’s mother, Magge, and younger sister, Ivy. Both had been warm and welcoming.

  “My father died in battle as did yours. We were fortunate that Father was respected and served with bravery,” Cassie told Kela. “His commander found Mother the position as cook here at the castle. Otherwise, we would have been cast into the streets.”

  The thought made Kela shudder. Cassie was the sweetest person Kela had ever known. Kela always looked forward to seeing her smiling friend. They played with the same exuberance and dreamed of the life before them.

  She became dear to Kela, lending to the faith Kela held in her.

  Kela’s confidence was answered.

  In the dim light of the early morn, Turstan waited for Kela under the giant marble statue of a Sordarin warrior near the fountain. Behind him, the majestic Preda mountain range reigned as white clouds gathered along the peaks, giving way to a haze that covered the ground.

  Kela was thankful for the fog. She gave no thought to running into Turstan’s strong arms without worry of being watched. Such happiness surged through her. For so long Kela had denied her need for her family, a need that had played against her half-Witheleghean heart.

  Her Sordarin nature dominated her passive nature, but there were times when she could not fight against the sentiment that welled in her. Her heart went out to him. Kela wept.

  “Child, child,” Turstan whispered. “What is wrong? Has not your welfare been seen to?”

  She gave no answer, holding tightly to him. Forgotten was her carefully thought out words. Instead, she took comfort in his arms.

  Finally, Turstan pulled her back and looked into her eyes. “I was told that you were safe and well cared for.”

  Taking a long look at her friend, his appearance had changed. To be sure, he was clean. His beard had been neatly trimmed, but he wore a gray robe, not the gold and brown of the Royal Wing.

  “I was told you were now in charge of Falco’s household, which wou
ld mean you were back within the Royal Wings. You are not?”

  Turstan frowned. “I’m a damaged warrior, my child. My wing is beyond healing. I can never serve again in the Royal Wings. I am now master of arms for the heir apparent.”

  “Then, you have been given a position of importance?” Kela searched his expression in confusion for his manner of clothing did not lend to that conclusion.

  “Falco has been acknowledged. That is the most important matter.”

  Yet, Turstan had not been recognized for being the man who had protected the heir apparent for years. That had been made clear.

  “I want to go home, Turstan,” Kela whispered. “I don’t like it here. Sareta is better, stronger. We can leave.”

  “No, child.” His face softened. Reaching over, he wiped back her tears. “Your place is here. Sareta is better because we have not needed her magic continually. For years she has been drained. She is in no shape to do as you suggest. Don’t ask her. We will have to deal with things the way they are. It’s time to stop running.”

  “But I have been treated unfairly,” Kela pleaded. “I’m kept in the Black Tower.” She saw immediately that she would not draw sympathy.

  Turstan released his hold on her. “I trained you better. I taught you to fight, not whine. How bad can it be?”

  “What do you have me do? The king has separated us…”

  “Do not waste time feeling bad for yourself. Remember there is always another that has it…” Turstan silenced.

  A figure emerged out of the fog. He was a tall, broad shoulder man with hair as bright as the mid-day sun. Clean shaven, his eyes were clear and green, like the open meadow. The cloak he wore was brilliant blue with the sigil of House de Flour.

  Recognizing him immediately, Kela froze. He was not a man to forget—the prince from the Brixtone hunting party.

  He bowed, smiling as if he was quite pleased with his discovery. “I believe introductions are in order, my lady. I am Prince Pieter de Flour of Brixtone. It is good to see you well. I understand you have had quite the adventure, but it must be satisfying to know that you are back among your people.”