2
Calrain tried to fall back asleep. Even though he had not gotten much rest last night, his blood hummed with so much energy, he could not quiet his mind. He kissed Tariel gently on the forehead and carefully untangled himself from her embrace, then straightened his clothing and went to sit on a boulder by theriver.
As he watched the powerful current froth and rage, bounding over rocks and boulders as it careened down the small gorge, he did his best to collect his thoughts. He would never dare voice his true concerns aloud, as he did not want to discourage Tariel, but privately, he shared Yarim’s thoughts. The odds were not in their favor, even with Tariel’smagic.
It wasn’t long before Yarim joined him. The Maroyan noble perched on the rock next to Calrain, drawing one knee up to his broad chest while the other dangled, the tip of his booted foot scraping the soft ground. His violet eyes blazed with renewed energy, but the look on his face wasgrim.
“Even if Tariel is able to ford the river with her magic, and we are able to make it to the bandit stronghold,” he said, pitching his voice above the roar of the river, “there is no guarantee we will be able to recover Riann alive. I don’t know the man very well, but he seemed the practical sort, and concerned with Tariel’s welfare above all else. Would he not rather we get her to safety than risk her life on a rescue attempt that has such little chance atsuccess?”
“Riann would say that, honorable fool that he is,” Calrain said, scraping his hair out of his face. “But Tariel would never abandon any of us, no matter the risk. And if Riann should perish, I fear his death would gouge a deep wound into her soul. She would never be thesame.”
Yarim was silent for a moment. “She must care for himdeeply.”
Calrain cocked his head. “You sound surprised. Do Maroyan mages not usually care for their mates?” He couldn’t imagine any two people who shared the bond he had with Tariel not having a deep and abiding affection for oneanother.
“Of course they care,” Yarim said quickly. “But some take many mates, and there tends to be a hierarchy of sorts in that case. But then again, you and Riann were her firsts, so it is only natural that Tariel would care about you two themost.”
Calrain did not miss the flash of jealousy in Yarim’s eyes, quickly buried though it was. “I cannot imagine Tariel not loving any of her mates. She gives of herself so freely and completely to anyone she allows to get close to her. And with the life she has been forced to lead, she has not let very many people into her heart. The fact that she has let you in is a special thing,Yarim.”
Yarim nodded, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “I realize that I do not know very much about the three of you. Tell me how you came to know eachother.”
“We grew up at Castle Tyrook together,” Calrain explained. “Tariel had been raised there almost from birth, which we now know was by order of the queen, and I was sent to apprentice under Brother Tersen when I was but five years old. Riann came when he was seven to serve as a page, and he eventually worked his way up toknighthood.”
“Five and seven?” Yarim exclaimed, astonished. “I too began my sword-training at an early age, but I remained with my family until I was a young man. Where were yourmothers?”
“I don’t know who my parents are,” Calrain said. “I was left on the steps of a monastery as a newborn. The brothers did their best to take care of me, but Roisen’s temples are not good places to raise children, so they sent me to the Tyrooks. I didn’t actually start my apprenticeship in earnest until around ten. When I was a child, I spent quite a bit of time sneaking around withTariel.”
“Sneaking around?” Yarim raised aneyebrow.
“Well, notalways,” Calrain admitted. “Most of the time we played outside, like normal children. But when we grew older, we would sneak off to one of the storage rooms together so I could teach Tariel to read. I used to merely bring a book along and read stories to her, but after a while she grew tired of listening and demanded that I teach her. She quickly surpassed my reading speed.” Calrain gave a little laugh, thinking back on the memories fondly. “Tariel is a quickstudy.”
Yarim shook his head. “For a moment, I forgot just how backward Fjordland is, that you would have to sneak around just to teach a girl how to read.” His gaze softened as he glanced over his shoulder at Tariel’s sleeping form. “It is amazing that she has survived in such an inhospitable land for as long as she has. The queen must have given specific instructions that she was not to beharmed.”
Calrain considered it. “I have to wonder why. After all, she refused to tell Tariel who her parents were, and gave Sir Jerrold that sketch to help him catch her. Why go through all the trouble to make sure Tariel was cared for, if in the end she was willing to see her burned at thestake?”
“It’s a mystery,” Yarim said, “and one we probably will not solve without speaking to the Fjordland queenherself.”
“Which will never happen,” Calrain said dryly. Even if they were foolish enough to seek out Queen Relissa again, the woman was on her deathbed, and would likely perish in a few weeks. She would take the secret of Tariel’s birth with her to the grave. “Our only hope of finding out who Tariel is lies in the Empire, and even that is a slimone.”
“Finding out Tariel’s pedigree is not our immediate issue,” Yarim said. “What we really need to do is find out more about these filthy bandits. Was the group that took Riann a single outfit, or part of a larger clan? If Zolotais is right and we were in their territory, just how far does that territory extend? Are we still in bandit country rightnow?”
“All good questions,” Calrain said, “and unfortunately, I have no answers. But perhaps if we come upon a village or farm, we might be able to ask around. Surely someone knows of thesebandits.”
“That is a good idea.” Yarim eyed Calrain for a moment. “You carry a dagger, but you aren’t of much use with it. Did Riann never teach you tofight?”
Calrain’s cheeks heated. “Riann and I only knew each other casually growing up,” he said. “He had promised to teach me in exchange for writing letters to his sister for him, but there hasn’t been much time since we’ve been on the run.” He glanced ruefully at the dagger he wore at his belt, wishing that it was a sword. That, at least, would be more useful against a knight or a bandit than this small blade, which was only good in closequarters.
“His sister?” Yarim asked. “So he is not a foundling likeyou?”
Calrain shook his head. “He is the sixth son of a poor baron, which was why his family sent him to Castle Tyrook to train as a young boy. It was likely a great relief to his family that the Tyrooks took him in, and a great investment for them too, as Riann quickly became their best fighter. If not for the fact that he sent nearly all his money to his sister, and that he’s been madly in love with Tariel, he might have already gotten himself awife.”
“Why was he sending all his money to his sister?” Yarim asked. “Did she have no family to supporther?”
“She was raped, and became pregnant as a result,” Calrain said, “and since she did not marry her attacker, her family cast her out. If not for Riann’s support, she and her child would have starved. The only reason he was able to leave at all was because Zolotais found a purse of gold, which he gave to his sister before he came withus.”
“So, a talented knight with a heart of gold, who sacrificed his happiness for his sister, and then his life for the woman he loves,” Yarim murmured. There was still a hint of jealousy in his voice, but a healthy dose of respect as well. “It is no wonder Tariel loveshim.”
“Indeed,” Calrain said, “and I’m rather fond of him too. He has always been kind to me, even when most of the castle inhabitants ignored or bullied me. I would prefer that we retrieve him in one piece before we continue on to theEmpire.”
“And so we shall,” Yarim said. “And in the meantime”—he snatched Calrain’s dagger from its sheath with lightning speed—“I shall teach you how to usethis.”
“The dagger?” Calrain glanced at Yarim’s curved sword, resting by their baggage, and disappointment tainted the initial jolt of excitement. “Would a sword not bebetter?”
Yarim tossed a pebble at Calrain, who caught it without thinking. “I’ve noticed that you have fast reflexes,” he said, grinning. “I believe you actually may be more suited to knife fighting and throwing, which are more useful skills in the Empire than swinging a big sword around like our knight friend does. You’ll note that I killed more men than he did,” he added,winking.
“That was still with a sword,” Calrain pointed out, though the idea of being better than Riann at something was very appealing. He knew Riann was decent with a knife—he’d killed one of Sir Jerrold’s men with a single thrown dagger, after all—but he’d likely invested more time into learning to wield hisbroadsword.
“Yes,” Yarim said, “but I have spent many years training with the scimitar, and swordplay is largely about footwork, which takes a long time to master.” He pulled a knife from his own boot, and the sunlight glinted off the wickedly curved edge as he smirked at Calrain. “Now, are you going to sit there and continue to make excuses, or do you want to learn how to kill a man with six inches ofsteel?”
