The Betrayal (44 page)

“Councillors, gentles, noble folk of Greenglen and Stonereach and all other clans represented here, witness now the handfasting of these two souls before you, who are a bright hope to our people in these troubled times. Who stands forth for Greenglen?”

The herald droned a lengthy list of Jharan's titles, followed by Jhinani's, then for Stonereach an equally impressive catalog of Felisan's and Luruthin's honors.
Turisan paid no heed, having eyes only for Eliani as they met in front of Heléri. He reached out a hand, and she laid hers in it.

At once Heléri grasped both their hands and drew them forward. Startled, Turisan sensed a tingle in his hand that he thought came from the ribbon draped over Heléri's arms.

“Turisan and Eliani, you stand before this gathering to be handfasted according to the ancient custom, never again to part in flesh or in spirit. If this is not your choice, now is the time to withdraw.”

Turisan knew a moment's dread. He kept his eyes on Heléri's face and his mind free of thought. He did not want to coerce Eliani at all, and this was her last chance to retreat from the unbreakable pledge.

All was silent for the space of a breath, then Eliani said, “I choose to be handfasted to Turisan of House Jharanin, never to part again.”

Turisan inhaled and dared to look at his lady, who was smiling softly. He swallowed.

“I choose to be handfasted to Eliani of House Felisanin, never to part again.”

Even as he spoke, he realized that he was trembling. Eliani's fingers slid between his, and he gripped her hand tighter.

“Then be bound together by your kindred before these witnesses.”

Lord Luruthin stepped forward bearing a ribbon of sapphire blue. His gaze moved from Eliani to Turisan, who saw resignation in his green eyes. Laying the ribbon across their clasped hands, he spoke in a quiet but clear voice.

“I bind you together under Stonereach.”

He took a step back, holding the ends of the ribbon, and did not look again at either of them but gazed at
Lady Jhinani as she came forward with the ribbon of pale sage.

This she laid over the blue, speaking the words of binding, and Lord Felisan followed it with the violet ribbon. Lord Jharan paused, the silver ribbon in his hands, and looked each of them in the eye before binding them with it.

Heléri stepped forward. “I bind you together in heart, body, and spirit.” She laid the handfasting ribbon over all the others, and the tingle Turisan had sensed earlier returned tenfold.

He looked at Eliani.
Do you feel that?

Yes.

Heléri began to weave all the ribbons, taking and handing them with the others as she spoke of Greenglen and Stonereach. Turisan did not follow her words. He was feeling light-headed and conscious of every move of the handfasting ribbon.

Now his father held it, and his hopes for the future of Southfæld ran down it; now Luruthin accepted a strand from Heléri, seeming surprised to sense the power in the silken weave. Felisan's laughter, Jhinani's kindness flowed through the ribbon, streams of khi blending into a bond that shimmered brightest whenever Heléri touched it.

Turisan's and Eliani's hands were entrapped in a gleaming tapestry through which the handfasting ribbon showed in glimpses: here a star, there a firespear, a fountain, the Three Shades. The ribbons twined down their arms, their kindred's khi glowing in the weave.

“May those in spirit as well as those in flesh extend their blessings over Turisan and Eliani, who from this day forth shall be as one.”

The weaving ceased. The ribbons' ends hung glimmering in the torchlight. Heléri smiled at Turisan and
Eliani, then gently lifted their joined hands, drawing them to face each other.

“Raise your hands for all to see and make your pledges now before these witnesses.”

Pledges!

Eliani's look of dismay smote him. They had not discussed pledges; there had not been time.

Turisan drew a long breath and spoke the words that came to him. “I pledge you my eternal loyalty. My heart is already yours; my hand I give to you before our kindred here gathered. I am yours and yours alone from this day forward.”

Eliani gave him a wavering smile. “I pledge you my trust. I give you my heart and hand before these witnesses. I am yours and yours alone from this day forward.”

Heléri gave a slight nod. “Know all here present that these two are now one. Bring forth the emblem of this lady's craft.”

Turisan's gaze was drawn to Luruthin, who stepped forward bearing the sword that Felisan had given his daughter upon her majority. The sight brought Turisan's mind back to the threatening war and all that it might mean. Eliani was a guardian before all, or so her clan presented her this day. Theirs would be a union forged in strife. Already he rued the coming dawn that would separate them.

Luruthin's gaze brushed Turisan's as he knelt. Gently the Stonereach lowered the blade before the couple until Lord Felisan caught its tip in a piece of violet velvet just above the marble floor.

Heléri was speaking again, ceremonial words. He half heard them, but his thoughts were all on Eliani.

“The step you now take is the first of your journey together. May it bring you great joy and peace. Come forward into your new life.”

Eliani smiled at him. Together they stepped over the sword. As their feet touched the floor beyond, a shock went through him and through their joined hands, strong enough to make him catch his breath.

His awareness of Eliani deepened as the tingling of the ribbon spread along his arm and through his whole body. He set his other foot down and looked at her, feeling unsteady. Heléri's voice recalled him even as her hands turned him and Eliani to face the hall.

“Welcome, Turisan and Eliani of House Jharanin!”

Still dizzy, Turisan blinked and tried to catch his breath as the hall roared with cheers and sudden music from the gallery. Spots of glowing light ranged over the dome above. At first Turisan thought they were illusions, but they remained steady when he moved his head.

Eliani turned her head toward him.
Do you see them?

Ye s
—
what are they?

Spirits, I think.

Spirits?

Turisan had no time to ponder it, for Heléri drew their bound hands to her and began the reweaving of the ribbons. Her hands moved too swiftly for him to follow in his giddy state, but as she worked, his head began to clear and he was able to look at Eliani without losing himself in her gaze. The tingle of the ribbon subsided to a low, steady glow on the edge of his awareness, a pleasant feeling, almost as if the ribbons now woven onto his forearm were merely a bit heavy.

Suddenly it was done: the ends of the ribbon had vanished into the weave, which was firm about his arm and felt as if it would not loosen. Eliani's arm bore a matching band, and her hand squeezed his as she looked up at him.

The music resolved from fanfares into a dance of
celebration. Turisan glanced up to see the guests drawing back from the center of the hall, opening a space and revealing the central mosaic of leaves within a silver circle. The spots of light above had vanished, but his euphoria remained. He looked at his lady.

Shall we?

Her smile was her answer. He led her down from the dais, and as one they crossed into the circle and began to dance.

Luruthin stood apart from the cluster of councillors who gossiped as they watched Turisan and Eliani move gracefully through the figures of the dance. He knew it was unwise to stay and yet was unable to tear himself away.

“A handsome couple, even leaving all else aside.”

Turning, he saw Lady Jhinani smiling at him, soft brown eyes warm in the candlelight. “Do you care to join the dance?”

He bowed at once and offered her his arm, chagrined at his lapse of courtesy. “Of course, my lady. Forgive me. I would have remembered in another moment.”

“No need to apologize. If you do not wish to dance, I will not be offended.”

Luruthin summoned all his reserves of graciousness and matched her smile. “By no means. I claim a dance with you as my privilege.”

He led her onto the floor. He had performed this dance—an old one, traditional at joyful celebrations—often enough that he had no need to concentrate on its figures, but glimpses of Eliani distracted him. He strove to ignore her and devote his attention to his partner.

Jhinani was a graceful dancer. He told her so, then complimented her gown, admiring the richness of the
cloth and the embroiderer's skill. When that topic failed, he sought for another, but Jhinani forestalled him.

“So many people in this room. Would you mind if we stepped outside for a moment?”

The floor had become crowded with dancing couples, so their departure would occasion no remark. Luruthin nodded assent and led Jhinani out to the arcade, sighing with relief as they left the crowded hall for the crisp cool of night.

Jhinani crossed to the balustrade that separated the arcade from the fountain court, and Luruthin joined her there. He still had not found a subject for conversation, but she seemed not to expect it. They stood companionably, silent, listening to the hush of falling water. After a moment she glanced at him and nodded toward the courtyard.

“Shall we walk?”

Luruthin smiled. “Yes.”

He followed her out among the fountains, feeling his tension ease as they wandered slowly through the court. He had not realized how rigidly he had been holding himself.

Breathing deeply of the damp air, he sought to relax, though not completely. He could not afford that yet. He would need time and privacy for that, and the spirits knew when he would get them. Not soon, for in the morning he would depart with Eliani for the north and must maintain a guard on his feelings.

He noticed an increase of moisture in the air and realized that he had been following Jhinani blindly and that she had led him into the Whispering Walk. He stopped and stood blinking foolishly as she walked on, remembering how he had intruded upon Turisan and Eliani's privacy here. Suddenly his resolution seemed to dissolve, and he felt on the verge of grief.

Eliani. Lost to him for all time, now. Still present but forever out of reach. He had been a fool not to purge her from his heart years ago.

Jhinani's touch on his arm made him start. He looked up and saw concern on her face.

“You are trembling. I should not have brought you out into this chill.”

Luruthin sought words of denial, but his voice would not obey him. Jhinani's hand brushed his cheek, then rested on his shoulder. Her khi was warm and as gentle as her smile. He had first sensed it through the ribbons during the handfasting ceremony.

“I know where there is a fire. A quiet room, a cup of wine, perhaps. Will you come?”

He gazed into her dark eyes, seeing further invitation there. A fresher, simpler, and more urgent yearning awoke in him, promising forgetfulness, at least for a time. He nodded, his voice emerging in a harsh whisper.

“Yes.”

 The Star Tower 

Eliani and Turisan finished the dance at the foot of the dais just as the music concluded. Before she could catch her breath, folk crowded around them, offering congratulations. Turisan introduced an elder of the city and of his father's house, but before he could name the next well-wisher, Lord Felisan strode up to them and laid a hand on either one's shoulder.