And overcome them.
He’d never thought about what he believed, not consciously. But aye, he believed that like hard masters, the gods sent them back again and again to face and perhaps overcome their failings. It would explain so much. How he felt about Darlei. The way he’d seemed to know her instantly when they met. The intensity of the longing.
But he came to realize, as he pondered, that it did not mean they would be together in this life. It did not, for the obstacles were many. And even if he believed, and believed fiercely, it did not mean they could overcome whatever they must.
Nearly impossible, when he did not even know what it was they must overcome. Circumstances, most certainly. But also something within.
Within each of them.
What was the greatest enemy? He pondered that also as he paced the walkways high up on the stone walls, as he assigned the men. As the sun began to go down upon this day of days unlike any other.
Fear.
Aye so. The greatest enemy must be fear. His. Hers.
He feared, and always had, that he would not be enough. Strong enough, dutiful enough, skilled enough with a sword. It pushed him during times like training sessions to be first among the men, even though he knew he could not be.
Rohr must be first. Best. Their father had always insisted upon it.
Just as Rohr was to have the prize—Darlei—for whom Deathan would be willing to give his life.
The knowledge did not cheer him, for his fear was a deep one. It stemmed from being a second son. Knowing no matter how hard he worked or what talents he possessed, he could never be first.
Save, perhaps, in Darlei’s heart.
Was that why he loved her so? Nay, there were a thousand reasons.
Had it been so for him in past lives? Had he striven for acknowledgement that had not come? Or had he achieved it?
Whatever the case, he feared not being good enough. What did Darlei fear?
He knew her now, on a deep level—he did. Still, he could not answer that question.
*
“You are inlove with him, are you not?”
Orle’s question spun Darlei around where she stood, at the window of her chamber. She’d been thinking of Deathan—to be sure, she had—so when Orle spoke, she had no doubt as to whom she referred.
She stared dismayed into her companion’s eyes.
Orle came and stood close, lowering her voice even though there was no one to hear. “You can tell me. I am your friend. I should hope you would tell me anything.”
“I—” It was not that Darlei did not wish to tell. She longed to shout out what she felt for Deathan, the miracle of what had taken place out upon the water. She did not have proper words, however. Only feelings.
Orle’s dark eyes filled with compassion. “Your betrothed’s brother. How did it come to be?”
Darlei sagged where she stood. “I scarce know. With all that has happened—”
“Yes, it is a terrible tangle.”
“How did you guess at my feelings for him?” She had to be more careful, lest others also guess the truth she and Deathan shared.
“I saw the way you looked at him when the two of you came ashore today. The way he looked at you.”
“Do you think anyone else noticed?”
“I could not say. I know you very well, Darlei. You keep going off with him—up the shore, out to sea. Were you not frightened out in that little boat?”
