Path of the Dark, page 5
part #3 of Light and Darkness Series
It was an intimate spot here, in the heart of the garden, accompanied by the tinkle of rushing water. A meeting place for lovers.
“Will you be joining us this afternoon?” Elias asked finally.
Ryana shook her head. “I’m not on the king’s personal council … but Asher is.”
Elias pulled a face. “Your friend glared at me the whole way through this morning’s meeting. I don’t think he’s forgiven me for what happened in The Forest of the Fallen.”
“Aye … for good reason,” Ryana replied with a frown. “Is arrogance an Anthor trait or are the men in your family particularly blessed?”
Elias laughed, a low, pleasant sound. However, when his gaze met hers, it was serious. “You don’t have to like me, Ryana.” His tone was gentle, beguiling. “But believe it or not, we both want the same thing.”
“And what’s that?”
“Peace. I’d rather our kingdoms didn’t go to war.”
Ryana drew in a sharp breath and took a smart step back from him. Cool air rushed in between them, breaking the spell he’d cast over her. “We don’t want the same thing,” she said, her tone icy. “I, for one, would love to see Nathan take his army south and knock your father off the Swallow Throne.”
Elias watched the enchanter stalk from the garden. Not hampered by long skirts today, she was able to stride out. Unlike the night before, her present attire didn’t show off her ample cleavage. However, it did reveal her long, shapely legs.
Turning back to the fountain, his gaze rested upon the cavorting nymph and the look of ecstasy on its face.
He enjoyed sparring with Ryana. He hadn’t liked seeing the glint of victory in her eyes the evening before, and had been hoping to get his revenge. But, just like at the ball, she’d managed to get the last word.
He hadn’t followed her to the garden to goad her.
Ryana of the Dark had a high position in the Order, higher than he’d realized last night, and as such she was dangerous. He knew he’d do well to get the woman onside, to win her trust. Perhaps he could even use to her to get close to Ninia.
Inhaling the scent of spring bulbs, Elias turned from the fountain and began walking back toward the entrance. Such machinations would have to wait for another day; a long afternoon of negotiations stretched before him.
The morning had gone well. Elias had enjoyed the cut and thrust of it. He hadn’t minded that everyone in the council chamber had watched him with hard, suspicious gazes.
Nathan had seethed the entire time, yet he’d still negotiated. Elias had been surprised to discover that he and Nathan thought along similar lines. Elias had negotiated for things that he would want were he king of Anthor. His father had given him little direction, so he made up the rules himself.
Part of him was impatient to see his mission through, but nonetheless Elias found he liked the game of politics and diplomacy. This was the first time this role had ever been thrust upon him, for the last decade had been spent captaining his father’s army. All his life he’d been a warrior. Now he had the chance to excel in other areas.
This morning he’d been able to focus on negotiating peace, to distract himself from his real purpose.
But Ninia has to die, a voice needled him. The longer you wait, the harder it’ll be.
Elias cursed his father for making him do this. It had been easy during his first mission to track Ninia down in Thûn, for he hadn’t known her then. She’d just been a faceless target that needed to be eliminated.
Then Ninia had spared his life and that complicated matters.
Elias didn’t think of himself as a man with a conscience—but last night, after the ball, he’d lain awake until the first blush of dawn lightened the eastern sky.
On the journey here, he’d told himself that he’d find a way to survive this mission. Yet he realized now that unless he cornered Ninia alone, that was unlikely. When he struck, he’d have to be ready to fall. And since he’d be killing a woman who’d spared his own life out of kindness, there was a part of him that wondered if that wasn’t for the best.
Did such a man deserve to live?
It had to be done, even if it cost him dearly.
A chill settled in the pit of his belly at the thought.
6
Steel is Steel
ELIAS TOOK A seat at the banquet table, opposite Ninia. “Good evening, princess.”
Meeting his eye, she favored him with a polite smile.
Elias returned the smile. Four days had passed since his arrival at The Royal City, and he hadn’t seen the princess since the ball. However, once a week the king and queen invited Ninia to dine with them. And, tonight, they’d extended the invitation to Elias as well.
Elias had been pleased to accept—this was the opportunity he needed to get close to the princess.
Tonight could be his chance to complete his mission.
His senses sharpened at the thought, and he was keenly aware of the knife in his boot, awaiting its chance to draw blood.
He needed to get this done.
The negotiations proceeded well, but with each passing day, Elias grew tenser. He had only one true purpose in this city—and he felt as if he was letting himself get drawn away from it.
He’d hoped to see Ryana again, to use her to get closer to the princess. Yet the Head of the Dark hadn’t attended any more of the negotiations. Elias wondered if she was deliberately keeping away.
It mattered not, for tonight Nathan had brought Ninia to him.
“I thought it right that members of the royal houses of Rithmar, Anthor, and Thûn took supper together at least once during your visit,” Nathan announced from one end of the table, holding his goblet aloft.
Elias resisted the urge to frown. He was tempted to remind Nathan that the house of Thûn no longer existed. Their gazes met, and Elias caught the gleam in Nathan’s eye; the king was deliberately goading him.
Taking her seat at one end of the table with a rustle of damask skirts, the queen gave Elias a warm smile. “The king tells me that the negotiations proceed well.”
“Aye, Your Highness.” Elias raised his own goblet to Eldia. “It looks like our kingdoms will soon be firm allies.”
Elias flicked his attention back to Nathan and saw him tense.
A smile curved Elias’s lips. Two could play at this game.
They were taking supper in the royal banquet chamber, a relatively intimate space compared to the huge banquet hall downstairs. Located on the upper levels of the palace, the room had tear-drop shaped windows that were open to the elements tonight. A cool highland breeze wafted in, as did the scent of woodsmoke from the fires of the city below. However, two hearths burned at opposite ends of the banquet chamber, keeping its four occupants warm.
Oblivious to the frown that now furrowed her husband’s brow, the queen cast Elias an appraising look. She was a pretty woman of fragile, almost ethereal, beauty. And yet, Elias caught the glint in her eye that spoke of a strong will and playful edge. “That is good news indeed,” she murmured.
Servants entered the chamber, circling the table with ewers of wine and platters of quail roasted in white wine and butter—the first dish of the evening.
Taking a sip of wine, Elias glanced once more over at Ninia. The princess wasn’t looking his way. Instead, she kept her gaze firmly on the quail she was dissecting.
“How goes life in the House of Light and Darkness, Ninia?” Nathan asked when they were halfway through their quail.
Ninia glanced up and smiled. “Very well, thank you. I had my initiation rite yesterday.”
To prove it, she put down her knife and turned her hands over, revealing two eight-pointed stars tattooed on each palm. The one on the left was inked completely black, while the star on the right was not. The skin around both stars was slightly reddened and swollen.
“That looks sore,” the queen observed with a delicate wince. “Do you need to see our healer?”
“Asher has already attended me,” Ninia assured Eldia. “It doesn’t hurt.”
Nathan swirled his goblet of wine, his expression veiled, before he shifted his attention to Elias. “An enchanter who wields both the Light and the Dark,” he mused. “Surely that makes Reoul a bit nervous?”
Elias huffed. “Not really.”
“Not only that, but she’s also the heir to the Swallow Throne,” the king added.
Elias put down the knife he’d been using to slice his quail. Nathan was making a point it seemed—Ryana wasn’t the only one who suspected Elias of still wishing Ninia harm.
Days of negotiations had started to stretch Nathan’s patience. Tonight, the king had an agenda. Elias would need to be wary of him.
“The Swallow Throne belongs to my father now,” Elias reminded him.
Nathan’s mouth twisted. “Blood is blood.”
“And steel is steel,” Elias countered. “The strong conquer the weak. It’s the way of things.”
A tense silence settled upon the table. The queen’s delicate face drew taut, while Nathan’s expression darkened.
Across the table, Ninia watched Elias, her gaze narrowing. “Did you kill my family?” she asked, her voice low.
The directness of the girl’s question threw Elias. This was the last thing he wanted to discuss, yet he understood why she’d want to know. “Not personally, no,” he replied, meeting her eye. “My father took The Swallow Keep, while I secured the city. By the time I entered the palace, your family were all dead.”
It was the truth.
Ninia held his gaze. “Where did it happen?”
“Ninia,” Eldia interjected softly. “Perhaps, it’s best not to—”
Ninia ignored the queen. “Where did Reoul slaughter my mother, father, and brothers?”
“In the throne room,” Elias replied. “They made their last stand there, surrounded by The Swallow Guard.”
Ninia’s throat bobbed, her hazel eyes glistening. Observing her, Elias felt an unexpected pang of sympathy—and respect. The young woman’s self-possession was admirable. Inhaling deeply, she reached for her goblet of wine and took a large gulp.
“The people of Thûn will never accept your father as their ruler.” Nathan spoke up, shattering the tension. The king leaned back on his chair now, his expression inscrutable as he watched Elias. “I hear half of Veldoras starves so his army can eat. He’ll only ever be a dictator to them.”
The doors to the banquet chamber swung open then and servants entered. They brought the main course to the table: a rich boar stew accompanied by a selection of breads and steamed vegetables.
Elias let out a deep exhale. It was a welcome reprieve.
The aroma of the gamey stew drifted across the table, reminding Elias of Santino and his dislike for the heavy northern dishes. Elias wasn’t quite as fussy. After years of campaigning, he ate whatever was placed before him.
He helped himself to more food, aware that the mood at the table had now shifted. Ninia had been smiling earlier, yet her gaze was shadowed now. The queen had gone pale, and Nathan watched him like a stalking wolf.
Ignoring the king, Elias focused his attention on Ninia. He had to be careful with her, and he didn’t want Nathan ruining his chances of getting close to her. “War is brutal,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I wish there had been another way to take Veldoras.”
Ninia’s mouth thinned. “Like you said, the strong conquer the weak.”
Elias reached for a piece of bread. “Unfortunately … that’s the way of it.”
“And yet, here you are … the son of a dictator working for peace.” Nathan’s voice rumbled across the chamber. “Doesn’t that strike you as ironic?”
Elias leaned back in his chair, meeting Nathan’s eye once more. He realized now why the king had invited him to supper. It hadn’t been a gesture of warm Rithmar hospitality—despite the fact that the negotiations were progressing well, Nathan was still suspicious of his Anthor guest. He was trying to corner Elias, to get him to reveal his hand.
However, Nathan had just unwittingly given Elias the opportunity to change the subject. Eagerly, he took it. “Enough blood has been spilled,” he replied, holding the king’s gaze. “Until now, I’ve dedicated my life to war. But it can’t go on … eventually there must be peace if we are all to prosper. I want a different future for the people of our kingdoms.”
The rest of the supper passed slowly, the atmosphere so tense that you could have cut the air with a blade.
Nathan continued to make pointed comments, veiled under casual observations. Elias continued to let them slide. He wouldn’t give the king what he wanted. Nathan was wasting his time.
The queen made a valiant effort to keep the conversation focused upon lighter topics: the upcoming fire festival that marked the official start to summer; the meal before them, especially the delicious berry tart that finished it; and the history of the palace, which had many a tale attached to it.
Ninia said little, preferring instead to let the conversation eddy around her while she observed. The girl’s sharp gaze missed little.
By the time they were sipping small goblets of fortified wine, Elias was exhausted. He felt as if he’d just spent an hour in the training yard. The verbal sparring had drained him.
Eventually, the evening came to an end. The four of them rose from the table and left the banquet chamber. In the shadowy hallway beyond, the king and queen bid Ninia and Elias good night before linking arms and heading up a set of stairs toward the royal apartments.
Elias watched the king go, his brow furrowing.
What’s that sneaky bastard up to?
He wondered if he’d find out tomorrow—he and Nathan had a full day of negotiations planned.
With an escort of guards, Ninia and Elias turned left, making their way toward the central stairwell.
“Are you staying in the palace tonight?” Elias asked, his tone deliberately light. Thanks to Nathan’s meddling, they’d hardly spoken to each other since the main course.
“I’ll return to the House,” Ninia replied. “It’s my home now.”
“You appear to have adjusted well to your new life.”
She cut him a sharp look. “I’ve had little choice … but I do enjoy living with the other enchanters.” Her expression shadowed then. “Life could be lonely in the Swallow Keep. I had no sisters, and my two elder brothers were always too busy for me.”
“My brother and I fought like two pit dogs growing up,” Elias admitted with a smile. “We had a string of governesses, who despaired of us.” His smile faded a little. “My father was pleased though … he brought us up to be rivals.”
Ninia’s head inclined, curiosity lighting in her eyes. “Why was that?”
They’d reached the stairwell and now began the long descent down to the lower levels.
This is your chance, a voice whispered to him. Take it … now.
“Father wanted his sons to be tough,” he replied. “He wanted to see which of us was the most ruthless.”
“And which of you was it?”
Elias gave a soft laugh. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Saul possibly … he was always more cunning than me.”
Halfway down the stairwell, they reached a wide landing, where Elias drew to a halt. The party of four guards accompanying them also stopped, waiting a respectful few yards back. Elias turned to Ninia before favoring her with a brisk bow. “I shall bid you good night now, princess.”
What are you doing? The voice bellowed in his skull now. Don’t walk away from her!
Ninia nodded, although she didn’t move. Her gaze was dark in the flickering light of the sconces burning on the wall behind her. “You’re an enigma, Elias of Anthor,” she said softly. “I really don’t know what to make of you.”
Elias’s mouth quirked, yet he didn’t reply. Best to keep the princess wondering.
Ninia picked up her skirts and stepped away from him. “Goodnight.”
Elias watched her go, remaining still as two guards passed by. The other two stayed with him. He wasn’t allowed to wander the hallways of the palace without an escort.
Ninia disappeared from view round the curve of the stairwell, but Elias didn’t move.
Kill, kill, kill, kill.
The voice was screaming at him now, insisting he bounded after Ninia and ended her life. He’d just missed the best chance he’d possibly ever get to kill the princess. Just four guards, and with Ninia in close proximity. He could have whipped the blade from his boot and cut her throat, before she’d had time to gather either the Light or the Dark. The guards would have been easy to deal with.
But he’d let her walk away.
Elias ran a tired hand over his face and resisted the urge to mutter a curse. He didn’t understand why he’d just done that.
What’s wrong with me?
7
Into the Slums
Veldoras
The Kingdom of Thûn
“ANTHOR SCUM!”
THE shout echoed across the Spiral Way, reverberating off the surrounding stone buildings.
Gael glanced across at the crowd of locals that lined Veldoras’s main thoroughfare and searched for the agitator.
Wisely, for them, whoever it was had shut their mouth. However, none of the faces that flanked the cobbled street were friendly.
Casting a look in Saskia’s direction, Gael raised an eyebrow. “We’re popular here, I see.”
The enchanter shrugged. “Popularity doesn’t matter … they know who rules.”
Gael didn’t reply. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder to where men garbed in black and red followed them. An escort of twenty Anthor soldiers accompanied him and Saskia through the city, making their journey to the slums a parade. Gael had hoped to create less of a spectacle. Upon arriving in ‘The City of Tides’ he’d attracted very little attention before presenting himself to the king. He preferred to keep it that way.
