The Betrayal (47 page)

“Shall I ask to be excused from the Fireshore expedition?”

Luruthin gazed at Jhinani in the soft haven of her bed. Their bodies had remained joined for most of the night, but as dawn had crept around the tapestries at her window, they had separated. Her khi still tingled through him, along with a faint sense of their child's presence.

She smiled and stroked his hair. “That is kind, but no need. What could you do besides bear me company?”

“Oh … pamper you into a state of insensible bliss?”

Jhinani laughed. “There are plenty here who will wish to do that.” Her hand found his, and her expression grew thoughtful. “I think your cousin will have greater need of you. And you will not be away for long.”

“Sixty days at the very least.”

“That is less than a season.” She smiled at him. “Nothing important will happen in that time. I often serve in the healing hall, and you may believe that my colleagues there will take exquisite care of me.”

Luruthin felt warmth fill his heart. Jhinani was so generous. She gave so freely, without ostentation or demand, out of sheer kindness as far as he knew. He could grow to love her deeply, he was certain. Most likely he would, for he intended to share their child's upbringing as much as possible.

“I should have known you were a healer. You have healed me.”

She smiled and moved into his embrace. He kissed her, then froze at a sound in the outer chamber of her suite.

Jhinani raised her head, listening, then turned to him with a gesture for silence and softly kissed him
before leaving the bed. He watched her don a silvery silken wrap that flowed like water over the curves of her body as she walked out of the room. With a sigh he lay back, listening to the murmur of voices from the other room.

In a few moments Jhinani returned, carrying a small tray of tea and fruit. “It was Suliri, my attendant. I have sent her away, but I fear you must not stay. The Council is gathering to bid you and Eliani farewell.”

Luruthin sat up, letting the silken bedclothes fall away as he realized with a start that he had made no preparations for his journey northward. Jhinani sat on the edge of the bed, offering the tray to him.

“Here, have some of this. There is only one cup, I fear.”

He glanced up at her, laughing softly as he reached for the tea. “One cup is all we need for a bonding.”

Her head turned sharply toward him. “Do you wish to cup-bond?”

He paused with the tea halfway to his mouth, caught off guard by the intensity of her tone. “It was a jest—”

“I know it was, but …”

She looked away. Luruthin watched her for a moment, then put the tea back on the tray and gently took it from her, setting it aside before gathering her hands into his.

“What were you going to say?”

Jhinani shook her head. “A foolish thought. Never mind.”

He leaned forward, laid his cheek against hers, and whispered into her ear. “Do you wish to cup-bond?”

Merely speaking the words set his heart racing. He knew at once that it was his wish whether or not it was hers. He had no lover back in Alpinon, so to make such a pledge would be no hardship. Indeed, he
wanted to claim Jhinani, he realized with sudden fierceness. He wanted her to be his alone for the year of a cup-bond—the year that would end in the birth of their child—if not for longer.

She gave a slight laugh. “It would make little difference for my part. I will care to keep no other company for this year, but that need not affect you.” Her hand went to her belly where his seed had so lately taken hold.

He looked into her eyes, trying to read her wishes. He sensed that this was a gift he could give her, one that would mean a great deal to her. He solemnly kissed both her hands.

“I would be honored to bond with you for a year and a day.” Or forever, he thought a bit wildly.

Her shy smile was his reward. “Truly?”

“Truly.”

He reclaimed the teacup and wrapped her hands around the tall, slim vessel, covering them with his own. The tea's warmth seeped through the pottery, radiating between their fingers.

“Lady Jhinani, I pledge myself to you alone for this day and for a year of tomorrows.”

He drew the cup to his lips and sipped, laughing inwardly at the thought of a cup-bond made with tea. Usually wine was used, and some degree of ceremony employed, but that was the couple's choice. A pledge was a pledge, whether made privately or before witnesses, and the creed required that it be honored.

Jhinani repeated the vow and sipped the tea, and for a moment they stayed so, warmth spreading through their hands as they gazed at each other. Carefully, so as not to spill the hot beverage, Luruthin leaned forward to kiss his lady over the cup. The pledge sealed, his patience with the tea was ended and he took it
away from her, putting tea, tray, and all on a table out of the way before gathering her into his arms.

“You must not stay.”

“I know.”

He kissed her, sliding his arms inside her silken garment, clasping her warm flesh to him and trying to put a season's worth of passion into the embrace. Finally he let her go; standing up so that he would not be tempted to reach for her again, he looked about the floor in search of his clothing.

A roar of cheering greeted Turisan and Eliani as they stepped from Hallowhall's doorway into the public circle. He had thought no greater crowd could fit within the circle than those he had seen in recent days, but he had been mistaken. The circle and all the avenues leading up to it were packed tight with folk, and had there not been a double line of the Southfæld Guard holding them back, he and Eliani never would have been able to walk to the center of the circle where the Council awaited them.

Pennants stirred in the early breeze—sage and silver, blue and violet, white and gold—all the colors of the ælven governing clans save one. Clan Sunriding was still absent.

Jharan held up a hand for silence and began wishing Eliani a formal farewell on the Council's behalf. The words did not catch in Turisan's mind. He was more strongly aware of Eliani, her hand gripping him tightly, her khi awash with apprehension and also with desire. Still desire, though they had coupled again and again through the night. He ached for her even now.

Jharan finished his praises and embraced Eliani, as did her father. The Council all clasped hands with her in turn, then Turisan accompanied her to her horse. Laying his hands on her shoulders, he kissed her. The
crowd cheered wildly, and Eliani glanced up at him, eyes dancing with wicked mirth.

Shall we give them a greater thrill?

He chuckled.
Best not. It would shatter my father's dignity.

Hm.

She hefted herself into the saddle with ease. Her face resumed the sternness he had seen in Alpinon when they had discovered kobalen in the South Wood. She was girding herself for the journey, arming herself against loneliness with her old protective shell, though her gaze when she looked upon him was lit with love. He smiled up at her, hiding his heartache.

Speak to me often as you ride. If we are limited by distance, we must know as soon as possible.

Her green eyes flashed fire.
I will speak to you from the edge of the world.

He stepped back, giving her room to turn the horse and join her cousin, who was waiting a little distance away. Turisan glanced at Luruthin, thinking his position pitiable, but the Stonereach appeared calm and even welcomed Eliani with a smile that seemed perfectly easy as her mount came up beside his. Rather a change from the previous day, but Turisan had no time to ponder it. Eliani was leaving.

Led by Vanorin, who carried a lance pennanted with sage and silver, the small cavalcade started forward. A horn sounded as they left the circle, and a slow roar began among the onlookers—a cheer of sorts, but with a mournful note that swelled and echoed from the surrounding mountains.

Stay with me.
Eliani did not look back, but her voice pleaded.

I am here.

He watched her pass down Glenhallow's main avenue toward the city gates, followed by the twenty
guardians of her escort. The crowd that parted to let them pass closed behind them and shuffled along in their wake, calling out blessings and good wishes.

Turisan remained standing in the circle until he no longer could see Eliani, though he knew precisely where she was. He knew the moment she passed the city's inner gate, then the outer, then when she crossed the bridge on the road to the Silverwash. He stood gazing eastward, the morning light harsh in his unseeing eyes, as she met the river road and turned north. He knew when the mounted party picked up the trot, then let their horses stretch into a lope.

“Lord Turisan?”

Startled, Turisan turned his head and saw Lady Heléri beside him. She was veiled against the sun, but through the dark violet he saw her smile.

“Such a bright morning. I fear I am unused to this much daylight. Will you escort me back to the palace?”

He subdued a stab of impatience. She was right, of course. Why should he stand here all morning, uselessly watching an empty road?

The crowd was dispersing, he realized. Some few remained in and about the circle, talking and glancing at him with wondering eyes.

Turisan bowed to Heléri and was surprised to find it difficult to straighten himself, as though moving had disturbed the heartache he hoped to keep at bay and it now threatened to overwhelm him. With an effort he controlled himself and offered her his arm, then walked with her toward Hallowhall. He saw his father ahead of them, talking with Felisan and Ehranan as they returned to the palace.

We have passed out of sight of the city.

Turisan swallowed.
Spirits guard you, my love. Tell me when you reach Skyruach.

Will you be resting?

I believe the Council is reconvening, and I had best be present.

He paused and with a rueful smile added another thought.
Your eldermother is urging me not to behave like an idiot.

Her laughter glittered in his mind, falling as rain on the desert and instantly lifting his mood.
Heed her, love. She is always right.