Treason Keep

Or perhaps it was. Perhaps he was right. Why should she do the bidding of the Primal gods who had been responsible for so much of her suffering? Why shouldn’t she join with Xaphista? A lifetime of comfort lay down that path. As the High Priestess of the Overlord, she would know unlimited power. She could have anything she wanted. Xaphista would destroy Loclon if she asked. He could spare Tarja if she demanded it.

Anything you want.

The idea was very, very tempting.

Come to me, demon child. Now!

R’shiel did not answer immediately. Besides the weighty nature of the decision she faced, there were voices outside that sounded vaguely familiar. She sat up, straining to hear the exchange. Then the tent flap opened and Tarja stepped through.

He stared at her wordlessly for a moment. The guttering candle by the pallet only served to highlight his shock at her appearance. Her bruises had faded, and her hair had grown out enough so that at least she didn’t have bald patches any more, but she knew she looked terrible. She was thin and wasted and so deep into herself that she found herself unable to return.

“R’shiel?”

Do I look so bad that he doesn’t recognise me?

Turn away from him, demon child. He cannot offer you the succour that I can. Come to me now, child. Everything you ever wanted rests with me.

But Xaphista was wrong. Everything she ever wanted stood before her, with a look of shock and despair on his face.

His presence seemed to give her an anchor. She clung to it, like a climber pulling himself hand over hand up a long rope, out of a hole so deep the top was merely a speck of light in the distance.

“R’shiel? Do you know who I am?”

She nodded. It was the best she could do.

A small relieved smile flickered over his lips then he stepped closer and gently took her hand.

“I’m taking you out of here,” he explained, as if he knew how hard she was trying to comprehend. “We have to walk away like nothing’s wrong.”

You will never know peace if you turn from me now!

She nodded again, not capable of speaking. Tarja held open the flap and she walked forward, her footsteps taking all her concentration.

He doesn’t even love you! Not really. Kalianah forced it on him. Only I can love you like you want to be loved.

R’shiel fell in with the guard brought to escort her from the tent. Tarja walked by her side. He was so tense she could feel it radiating off him like light from the sun.

You will not defeat me, demon child.

She ignored him, understanding now that her responses gave him power over her. Acknowledging his presence was only a step away from worshipping him and it was worship that gave this elevated demon his strength.

You will find that all you believe in is a lie. Then, when you come to face me, I will not be so understanding. You will suffer for this.

Then the collar started to burn.

Chapter 63

Adrina waited in the darkness with Tamylan, holding the six horses that would take Damin, her and Tamylan, Almodavar and the two other Raiders Damin had chosen to accompany them to freedom. The entire band would split into similar small groups and scatter in every direction. The plan was to give the Defenders so many targets that they would not know which was the one they sought. She wasn’t even sure which direction they would head, but it would be opposite to the one Tarja and Brak took with R’shiel. There was no point in making things any easier for their adversaries than it already was.

They had said their goodbyes earlier and Tarja had surprised her by seeking her out. As he had always maintained a distance between them, the spectre of her brother’s death prevented them ever becoming close, she found his gesture quite out of character. He had led her away a short distance from the others as they were preparing to depart.

“If we succeed, we may never meet again, your Highness.”

“I respect you, Tarja, but not enough to hope we fail on the off-chance we might become friends.”

“Then can a would-be friend give you some parting advice?”

“If you think it will do any good. Listening to advice isn’t one of my strong suits either.”

He smiled for a moment, then his expression grew serious. “Decide what you plan to do about Damin, and sooner rather than later.”

“What’s to decide? I know he’s your friend, Tarja, but don’t mistake his actions for anything noble. He doesn’t want a Karien heir to my father’s throne. It’s really that simple.”

Tarja shook his head. “Kid yourself all you want, Adrina. He’s in love with you. Probably almost as much as you are with him.” He held up his hand to forestall her protest. “Don’t bother to deny it. The only two people in Medalon who can’t see what’s going on are you and Damin.”

“You’re imagining things!” she scoffed.

“Am I?” he asked. “In that case, it doesn’t matter where you go, simply that you stay free of Cratyn. I’ll go and tell Damin you’ve decided to come with R’shiel and me instead, shall I? That way he’s free to head back to Hythria and you can —”

“No!” Her panic at his suggestion had surprised her.

He smiled. “See? It’s not really that simple at all, is it?”

Adrina was not willing to concede the unthinkable. “You’re jumping to conclusions, Tarja. If I go with Damin, I’ll be closer to home. The gods alone know where you and R’shiel are liable to wind up.”

Tarja shook his head and smiled knowingly. “Have it your way, your Highness. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, then led her back to the others.

Have it your way. Adrina stamped her feet against the cold and replayed the conversation in her mind. It was her own fault, she knew. These Medalonians simply didn’t understand. She’d had scores of lovers... well, that was an exaggeration, but she’d had several. They were fun for a while and then they left. Of course, they had all been court’esa, and in the employ of her father, but that didn’t make them any less intimate... well... maybe it did. A court’esa’s livelihood depended on their ability to satisfy and entertain their employer. She was the king’s daughter so she had only ever been provided with the very best.

Damin was her first – her only – lover who did not need her approval or her patronage. He did not need her wealth. He did not need her position to advance himself. He could not even marry her as she was already married to someone else. On the contrary, he courted danger by courting her.

Perhaps that was the attraction for him. It certainly wasn’t love. The heir to the Hythrun throne did not fall in love with the King of Fardohnya’s eldest daughter. That, along with lovers who rode all day and made love all night, belonged in a bard’s tale. It was the sort of plot one could expect to find in a badly acted tragedy by a band of travelling minstrels. It simply didn’t happen in real life.

She would not allow it to happen.

One of the horses snorted irritably. Adrina patted the gelding’s neck, whispering soothing nothings to him, hoping nobody could hear them. What in the name of the gods is taking them so long? Adrina peered into the darkness, wishing she knew how long they had been waiting. It seemed to be forever, but she was not good at judging time. Others who took care of such mundane things had always regulated her life. She