Crown of Crystal Flame
Page 3
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Dorian scowled and began to pace. “Despite what the poets say, a broken heart never killed anyone.”
“Perhaps not among mortals, King Dorian,” Ellysetta said, “but the same is not true for the Fey. Once a Fey finds his truemate, he has only months to complete the bond, or he will die.”
Dorian stopped in his tracks. He turned, glancing uncertainly between the pair of them. “Is this true?” he asked Rain.
Rain sighed, then nodded. “Aiyah, it is true.” “But you have yet to complete your bond with the Feyreisa. Are you telling me you are dying?” “I am.”
Nonplussed, Dorian leaned back against the window, his hands gripping the stone sill. “How long do you have?”
“Not long. Weeks perhaps. No more than a month or two.” Ellysetta’s hand crept into Rain’s. He squeezed her fingers gently.
“If this is true, why is this the first I’ve ever heard of it?”
“Ellysetta once asked me the same question. My answer to her was the same as it is to you now: If you had so great a vulnerability, would you let it be known to those who might wish you harm?”
Dorian bristled. “You think I wish you harm?”
“You? Nei. But you are king of a people who have shown increasing animosity towards the Fey. It seemed wiser to keep our secrets safe.”
“Knowing this,” Ellysetta said, “can you now understand why Rain acted as he did? It’s true he allowed our Spirit masters to weave the illusion of Adrial and Rowan leaving the city while they remained behind with Talisa’s quintet, cloaked in invisibility weaves to avoid detection. And, aiyah, he kept the secret of their presence from you so that no blame would fall upon you. But he didn’t do it so Adrial could steal another man’s wife. He did it so Adrial could spend the last days of his life close to the woman he loved.”
Dorian recovered his composure and regarded them both with a mix of suspicion and defensive ire. “Even if vel Arquinas was dying, that doesn’t excuse him. To manipulate diSebourne’s mind the way he did… to run off with the man’s wife. Those are not the actions of an honorable man—Fey or mortal.”
“Nei,” Rain agreed. “They are not. And that is precisely why Adrial would have embraced sheisan’dahlein, the Fey honor death, and why no Fey will attempt to avenge him. What Adrial did was wrong. None of us will deny that. But his brother Rowan tells us he was going to do the honorable thing. He was going to leave his shei’tani with her husband and return to the Fading Lands.”
Dorian’s shoulders slumped. “You should have come to me. Trusted me. If I’d known the price of the matebond, I could have tried to do something to spare vel Arquinas’s life. Now it’s too late. Three lives are lost—one of them the only heir to a Great House. Sebourne and his friends will make certain I regret my indulgence of the Fey.”
“I do understand, Dorian, and I will do all that I can to make amends, but we have a far greater threat than Sebourne’s vengeance to worry about now. Hawksheart warned us the Eld would attack tonight.”
“Tonight? I thought you said the attack would come next week? “
“Apparently, things have changed.”
“How many Elves did Hawksheart send to our aid? If the attack does come tonight, will they get here in time?”
Rain hesitated. This, even more than Dorian’s anger, was the part of this meeting he’d been dreading. “The Elves are not coming.”
The king’s brow furrowed. “Lord Hawksheart thinks the Danae alone will be enough against an army as large as the one you expect?” Weeks ago, after warning Dorian to marshall his troops and march to Kreppes, Rain and Ellysetta had traveled south to plead for military assistance from the Danae and the Elves.
“We never met with the Danae. Hawksheart’s Elves intercepted us before we crossed Celieria’s borders. He promised he would speak to the Danae on our behalf, but even if they agree to come, it will be days, possibly weeks, before they reach Kreppes.”
“Then we are doomed.” Dorian began to pace again.
“The keep is heavily guarded, and the shields are strong,” Rain said. “Between your twelve thousand men, Lord Barrial’s two, and my three thousand Fey, we’ll give the Eld a good fight. The Mages will not claim one fingerspan of Celierian soil without paying a high price.”
“Don’t patronize me,” Dorian snapped. “I’ve read the legends about the Army of Darkness. It was millions strong, they say.”
“Legends often grow over time.”
“Yes, but even if this Mage has built an army only a tenth that size, our seventeen thousand would still be outnumbered twenty to one. If the Elves and the Danae had agreed to fight, we might have stood a chance. Might. But now…”
“Now, if this Mage truly has built an army to rival the legend, the best we can hope is to hold back the tide and kill as many of them as possible before we are overrun,” Rain agreed baldly. “And pray our defeat will spur the Elves to action, as our pleas for aid could not.”
“You must hold out some hope of success,” Dorian insisted. “You would never bring your shei’tani here if you thought defeat was certain.”
“She is here because I am, but if the situation becomes dire, her quintet will take her to safety.”
At his side, Ellysetta went stiff as a poker. «Rain, I’m not leaving you.»
“Perhaps not among mortals, King Dorian,” Ellysetta said, “but the same is not true for the Fey. Once a Fey finds his truemate, he has only months to complete the bond, or he will die.”
Dorian stopped in his tracks. He turned, glancing uncertainly between the pair of them. “Is this true?” he asked Rain.
Rain sighed, then nodded. “Aiyah, it is true.” “But you have yet to complete your bond with the Feyreisa. Are you telling me you are dying?” “I am.”
Nonplussed, Dorian leaned back against the window, his hands gripping the stone sill. “How long do you have?”
“Not long. Weeks perhaps. No more than a month or two.” Ellysetta’s hand crept into Rain’s. He squeezed her fingers gently.
“If this is true, why is this the first I’ve ever heard of it?”
“Ellysetta once asked me the same question. My answer to her was the same as it is to you now: If you had so great a vulnerability, would you let it be known to those who might wish you harm?”
Dorian bristled. “You think I wish you harm?”
“You? Nei. But you are king of a people who have shown increasing animosity towards the Fey. It seemed wiser to keep our secrets safe.”
“Knowing this,” Ellysetta said, “can you now understand why Rain acted as he did? It’s true he allowed our Spirit masters to weave the illusion of Adrial and Rowan leaving the city while they remained behind with Talisa’s quintet, cloaked in invisibility weaves to avoid detection. And, aiyah, he kept the secret of their presence from you so that no blame would fall upon you. But he didn’t do it so Adrial could steal another man’s wife. He did it so Adrial could spend the last days of his life close to the woman he loved.”
Dorian recovered his composure and regarded them both with a mix of suspicion and defensive ire. “Even if vel Arquinas was dying, that doesn’t excuse him. To manipulate diSebourne’s mind the way he did… to run off with the man’s wife. Those are not the actions of an honorable man—Fey or mortal.”
“Nei,” Rain agreed. “They are not. And that is precisely why Adrial would have embraced sheisan’dahlein, the Fey honor death, and why no Fey will attempt to avenge him. What Adrial did was wrong. None of us will deny that. But his brother Rowan tells us he was going to do the honorable thing. He was going to leave his shei’tani with her husband and return to the Fading Lands.”
Dorian’s shoulders slumped. “You should have come to me. Trusted me. If I’d known the price of the matebond, I could have tried to do something to spare vel Arquinas’s life. Now it’s too late. Three lives are lost—one of them the only heir to a Great House. Sebourne and his friends will make certain I regret my indulgence of the Fey.”
“I do understand, Dorian, and I will do all that I can to make amends, but we have a far greater threat than Sebourne’s vengeance to worry about now. Hawksheart warned us the Eld would attack tonight.”
“Tonight? I thought you said the attack would come next week? “
“Apparently, things have changed.”
“How many Elves did Hawksheart send to our aid? If the attack does come tonight, will they get here in time?”
Rain hesitated. This, even more than Dorian’s anger, was the part of this meeting he’d been dreading. “The Elves are not coming.”
The king’s brow furrowed. “Lord Hawksheart thinks the Danae alone will be enough against an army as large as the one you expect?” Weeks ago, after warning Dorian to marshall his troops and march to Kreppes, Rain and Ellysetta had traveled south to plead for military assistance from the Danae and the Elves.
“We never met with the Danae. Hawksheart’s Elves intercepted us before we crossed Celieria’s borders. He promised he would speak to the Danae on our behalf, but even if they agree to come, it will be days, possibly weeks, before they reach Kreppes.”
“Then we are doomed.” Dorian began to pace again.
“The keep is heavily guarded, and the shields are strong,” Rain said. “Between your twelve thousand men, Lord Barrial’s two, and my three thousand Fey, we’ll give the Eld a good fight. The Mages will not claim one fingerspan of Celierian soil without paying a high price.”
“Don’t patronize me,” Dorian snapped. “I’ve read the legends about the Army of Darkness. It was millions strong, they say.”
“Legends often grow over time.”
“Yes, but even if this Mage has built an army only a tenth that size, our seventeen thousand would still be outnumbered twenty to one. If the Elves and the Danae had agreed to fight, we might have stood a chance. Might. But now…”
“Now, if this Mage truly has built an army to rival the legend, the best we can hope is to hold back the tide and kill as many of them as possible before we are overrun,” Rain agreed baldly. “And pray our defeat will spur the Elves to action, as our pleas for aid could not.”
“You must hold out some hope of success,” Dorian insisted. “You would never bring your shei’tani here if you thought defeat was certain.”
“She is here because I am, but if the situation becomes dire, her quintet will take her to safety.”
At his side, Ellysetta went stiff as a poker. «Rain, I’m not leaving you.»
