Blackveil (22 page)
And then there was the power.
She’d vanished before his eyes, yet she would not admit she possessed this ability. There was also that amazing black stallion that had been so much more than a horse he’d seen with her. Thoughts of the otherworldly stallion sent a shiver racing through him.
With slow strides he headed toward the castle deep in thought, deftly evading mud puddles and remnant clumps of snow.
As mysterious as Karigan G’ladheon was, he now possessed a puzzle of his own. He gazed at the dragon ring on his finger. The dragon’s tail was wrapped around its neck. The ruby eye flickered in the sunlight with gem fire and something more that was beyond his comprehension. It would require a journey to truly understand it.
Yes,
a far-off voice seemed to whisper in his mind.
A journey.
a far-off voice seemed to whisper in his mind.
A journey.
“I plan to embark on a journey,” Amberhill said. “I do not anticipate being back in time for the wedding, but I wanted to come to you with my best wishes.”
Zachary stroked his beard. He had been flushed and agitated upon entering the chamber—as if he’d been in an argument or had an unpleasant encounter. Lady Estora had mentioned something about a meeting. Whatever it was, it obviously had not gone the way Zachary wanted, but as they sat there, the king settled down, calmed, and became engaged in the conversation.
Lady Estora sat beside him. She was difficult to read. Was she disappointed by Amberhill’s pronouncement? She’d appeared pleased to see him when he arrived, placing a light kiss on his cheek, a pleasant scent of lavender rising from her skin.
He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable in her presence. Not because she was to be queen, and not because people proclaimed her the greatest beauty in the lands, but because he, as the Raven Mask, had engineered her abduction, only to be double-crossed by his employers, who turned out to be Second Empire. Guilt and vengeance had driven him to chase Lady Estora and her abductors all the way to the Teligmar Hills. Guilt for allowing the gentle lady to be taken into the hands of such thugs, and vengeance for the murder of his beloved manservant, Morry. He had yet to feel, however, that he’d fully righted the wrong.
So there he sat in the parlor of the royal apartments with his cousin and his cousin’s intended, and an elderly chaperone pulling thread on some needlework over by the fire. Servants brought them tea and warm scones dripping with honey butter. Two Hillander terriers watched the scones with bright eyes.
“A journey,” Zachary mused. “I must admit, Xandis, you’ve been a bit mysterious of late, and if I’m not mistaken, your fortunes appear to have improved.”
“Yes, my fortunes have indeed improved, but due to a very sad turn of events. My manservant passed away. Turns out he’d put aside a good deal of currency earned while in my grandfather’s employ, and made some excellent investments. Having no other family, he bequeathed it all to me.”
“That’s extraordinary,” Lady Estora murmured.
Amberhill nodded. It wasn’t every day a lord inherited from his servant. He’d come to the conclusion that in addition to Morry’s regular excellent wages, he’d received bonuses from his grandfather, the first Raven Mask, following particularly successful thefts. But while Morry’s wealth had been enough to begin repairs on his decaying ancestral manse and to acquire some fine brood mares to help establish the horse breeding stable he dreamed of, Amberhill’s true increase in fortune came from pirate treasure. This he used sparingly so his rise to great wealth did not appear too sudden. He did not wish for people to make it a topic of common gossip, or to ask questions.
He sold exquisite pieces of jewelry and gems, as well as coins through dealers he’d worked with when he stole oddments of jewelry as the Raven Mask. These dealers were of questionable scruples, but adhered to a solemn oath of privacy as demanded by their clientele. They dealt in only the finest quality objects as well, but still raised eyebrows at some of the pieces he’d brought them. They were not only worth much for their material value, but were of great antiquity.
“I am sorry for your loss,” Zachary said. “Where will you go?”
Amberhill grinned, and with a half-bow toward Lady Estora, he replied, “Why to Coutre Province to visit the lands your lady’s father endowed upon me.” Lands he was awarded for his part in trying to rescue Lady Estora. What would happen if Lord Coutre learned the truth of Amberhill’s hand in his daughter’s abduction? He’d done much to ensure that would not happen.
To tell the truth, he wasn’t sure he would actually visit Coutre Province. He’d journey to the east coast, yes, but ... The pull was strong, just not specific.
Go to sea,
the voice whispered.
Set sail toward the dawn.
the voice whispered.
Set sail toward the dawn.
His new lands in Coutre were simply a convenient excuse.
Excuse or not, Lady Estora expressed her delight at his answer by mentioning sights he must not miss upon reaching the port of Midhaven, including the massive chapel of the moon there, a match to any in size in Sacor City. Her eyes took on a far away look as she described favorite haunts, her voice a song.
She sounded homesick. Zachary listened politely. Polite and reserved, sitting well back in his chair, not leaning toward the lady as if to take in her every word or absorb her essence.
Not a besotted suitor,
Amberhill decided. He almost sighed, thinking it would be another of those loveless matches made only for an alliance. Love didn’t matter, really, so long as the two produced heirs. It made him think, rather rudely, of his horse breeding farm.
Amberhill decided. He almost sighed, thinking it would be another of those loveless matches made only for an alliance. Love didn’t matter, really, so long as the two produced heirs. It made him think, rather rudely, of his horse breeding farm.
Perhaps if Zachary put forth a little more effort toward Lady Estora? She was not difficult to look upon and was very kind and intelligent. A rare combination. Zachary should consider himself fortunate. It led Amberhill to suspect there was someone else his cousin desired. Zachary was a serious fellow, and his affections ran deeper than Amberhill’s ever could . He was an upstanding man and a good, decent king, but those virtues were failing him in regard to his betrothed.
Amberhill kept his own relations with women frivolous and very temporary. He’d never fallen in love. Well, maybe for a day or two. He was fond of several ladies, and they provided him with all the warmth and pleasure he desired. Zachary should take this other woman to be his mistress and be done with it. It was a common enough practice among noble lords.
Zachary then surprised him by smiling at Lady Estora and commenting on some detail of the coast of Coutre Province. Lady Estora smiled back.
“Yes,” she said, “the view of it from the sea is magnificent.”
Amberhill thought he’d better attend more to the actual conversation, but the dynamics between his cousin and the lady intrigued him. It occurred to him how difficult it must be for the two to get to know one another when they were always chaperoned and often caught amid the throngs during official functions. Despite it all, and Amberhill’s belief Zachary was interested in someone else, Amberhilll had to re-evaluate and conclude that there was some warmth between the two after all. They certainly were not smitten with each other, but they were at least on congenial terms. Perhaps it would evolve into more with time.
“I climbed the Seamount when I was, oh, sixteen or so,” Zachary said. “I was traversing the provinces, seeing what I could see of Sacoridia. From the summit of Seamount the view of the harbor and islands was stunning. I found the blueberries growing there most delicious as well.”
Lady Estora’s eyes lit up and she delved into yet more reminisences about blueberries and this Seamount. The two carried on at length and Amberhill was caught in a yawn.
Lady Estora laughed. “Our poor Lord Amberhill. We’re boring him with our memories.”
“Not at all,” he replied. “It’s just that I’ve been at work all day arranging for the packing up of my house in the city.” He’d miss his “little” rental in the noble quarter, but it made no sense to maintain it when he’d be away for an uncertain length of time doing who knew what. In the meantime, he’d directed his man-of-business to seek a suitable house for purchase. A larger, more prominent house now that he could afford it. It was all about appearances, after all.
A servant came by and Amberhill placed his empty teacup on a tray. Lady Estora made a sharp inhalation.
“My lady?” Amberhill asked, startled.
“Your ring,” she said. “It caught in the light. May I see it more closely?”
“Of course,” Amberhill replied, silently cursing the flashiness of the thing. Considering how he acquired the piece, and how it seemed to be attuned to certain powers, he did not want to be questioned about it. He supposed he didn’t have to wear it, but he couldn’t help but wear it. He did not think it safe to just leave it lying about on his dressing table, and he did not trust leaving it in his pocket. What if it fell through a hole?
Now that he’d been directly questioned about the ring, however, he could not hide it, so he held out his hand for Lady Estora and his cousin to examine.
“It is beautiful,” Lady Estora said. “Beautiful and old, if I am not mistaken. Has it come to you through your family?”
“No. I acquired it from a dealer of antiquities. I could not resist it when I saw it.” The lie slipped easily from his tongue.
“I can see why,” Zachary said. “The craftsmanship is masterful, and the ruby very clear and fiery.”
“Yes,” Amberhill murmured, not comfortable with their scrutiny. He withdrew his hand and they sat back in their chairs.
“Many centuries ago,” Lady Estora said, “in the days before the Long War, there were mighty sea kings who ruled much of our coast and conquered many lands. It is said they were a brutal people in war, but generous to friends and family, and that they celebrated beauty and workmanship above all else. Their sigil was the dragon, or sea drake.”
“In Hillander,” Zachary said, “remnants of their villages have been found nearly washing into the sea, and the dragon sigil was found upon the few artifacts that survived—shards of pottery, metalwork, and the like.”
Amberhill had heard of the sea kings before in reference to his ring, from a pair of eccentric, elderly sisters. He’d been too busy managing his affairs since then to seek further historical reference to them, so it was astonishing to learn they’d had a presence in his home province of Hillander. Perhaps because his estate was inland, and he was not much of a scholar, he wasn’t surprised he knew nothing about them.
“How very interesting,” he said, as if hearing about the sea kings for the first time.
“I imagine we may have the blood of their people running through us,” Lady Estora said. “As for the kings themselves, it is said that during the Black Ages they boarded their ships with all their treasures and sailed east into the mist, never to return.”
“Mysterious,” Amberhill said, and it was. Unlike the old sisters, neither Lady Estora nor Zachary mentioned anything about actual dragons or any powers that might emanate from his ring. Then again, those sisters had been a trifle uncanny themselves.
“There are, of course, plenty of legends in Coutre about the sea kings,” Estora said. “Mostly told to terrify children into good behavior. It used to give me shivers imagining those ships coming back across the sea with their dragon figureheads and pennants, and ghostly sailors manning black sails and oars.”
“I wonder,” Zachary mused, “what the Eletians could tell us of them. Many Eletians who live now also lived during that time. Not that you would ever receive straight answers from an Eletian.” His expression was, for lack of a better description, one of gloom.
The fire in the hearth was dying down, the elderly chaperone asleep with her needlework on her lap, and the scones were mere crumbs. Even the two terriers had sprawled out, sound asleep. Amberhill guessed that an undue amount of time had elapsed.
“I must be going,” Amberhill said, and Lady Estora’s expression fell with disappointment. “But not without wedding gifts first. For my cousin, a colt or filly of his choosing from the first breeding season at my estate.”
“Xandis—” Zachary started to protest.
Amberhill cut him off with a gesture. “It is entirely my pleasure and no hardship. Think of what fine promotion it will be for my stables to have Sacoridia’s king riding one of my foals. Which brings me to Lady Estora.” He smiled at her. “I’ve one of my stablehands bringing to Sacor City a yearling filly with a white coat, one of my Goss’ first offspring. She will make a fine hunter and pleasure horse. Your old mare, as I recall, met her demise at Teligmar.” That was a kind way of saying she’d been ridden to death.
Lady Estora nodded, tears brimming in her eyes, and hands clasped together. “I have missed Falan very much. Thank you.”
“You are welcome, but I am not finished.” He removed a velvet bag from an inside pocket of his frock coat and passed it to Lady Estora.
“What is this?” she asked.
“Look and see.”
She withdrew a delicate gold chain from which hung a pendant fixed with a shining golden gem like the orb of the sun. Gold was worked around it to create the sun’s curling rays. She placed one hand to her chest as though her breath were taken away. Zachary raised an eyebrow.
“A gold sapphire,” Amberhill said. He’d thought it would complement her golden hair, and he was right.
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