Chapter Eleven
J em ran from Bryok along the cliff top, the sword’s blade gleaming in brilliant moonlight despite Ergh’s constant clouds.
He was so thirsty. He’d been running for so long.
Creeda was there with her bundle of precious sevel twigs, praying to the gods while her boy wailed.
Austol watched, saying something Jem couldn’t understand.
Just before the sack closed over his head, he realized his right hand was gone. He cradled the bloody, ragged stump, curling into a ball as powerful hands took hold—
“Jem! Wake up.”
It was pitch dark, but he knew that voice. He knew that warm touch.
Relief flowed through him like sweet summer mead as he slumped against Cador, allowing himself to be eased up until he sat sideways in Cador’s lap.
He’d permit the comfort just for a minute.
His hip and shoulder ached from where he’d curled on the stone cell floor, and he gasped for breath as the nightmare receded.
Cador rubbed his back rhythmically. “You’re safe.”
Jem’s ragged breath caught. How he longed to believe that was true. Hard to believe when he was locked in his own dungeons with the man who’d originally conspired to have him maimed. He wrung his hands together, feeling the solid bones of his fingers. He raked his nails briefly over his scalp.
Though he should have, Jem couldn’t bear to shove his way out of Cador’s embrace. He allowed himself to rest.
“As safe as possible locked in a dark dungeon, that is,” Cador added, clearly trying for humor.
Jem found himself smiling. “It’s a relative thing these days.” His voice sounded scraped raw. “Was I screaming?”
“No, that was our neighbor. You need water though.”
Jem was about to protest, not wanting to move an inch from Cador’s lap, but apparently they were close enough to the barred door that Cador could grab the ladle, mumbling to himself as he did.
“Here.”
They fumbled a bit, fingers touching as they felt in the darkness, Jem finally grasping the ladle.
Cador held a hand to the back of his head, his thumb stroking the tip of Jem’s spine as Jem gulped the tepid water, spilling half on his face.
It dribbled down his throat, but he didn’t mind.
Cador refilled the ladle, and Jem drank again.
He jumped, spilling more water as the other prisoner cried out. “It’s all right,” Jem called. “I’ll get you out of here soon. You’ll see Tregereth, the healer.”
His words seemed to soothe them for the moment. Jem squinted, but could see only blackness. “Strange that the guards let the oil in the lamp burn out.”
“Mmm.”
“How long did I sleep? What time is it?”
“No more than a few hours. I’m not sure. It must be midnight by now. But underground, it could be noon and we’d be none the wiser.”
Jem shivered. He didn’t like that thought for some reason. Cador stroked his back again gently.
Cador said, “Now we just need a merman to come to our rescue.”
“Yes.”
“Unless Prince Kitto has a brilliant idea.”
“Surely the woodsman does. He’s battled boar, after all. And goats.”
A tremor rolled through Cador as he laughed softly. Jem breathed normally now, and it was time to get off Cador’s lap and recover some dignity. Yet he was so comfortable for the first time in ages.
“How did the woodsman become a marauder?”
“Hmm. It’s quite a tale.”
And Jem let him tell it, curled on Cador’s lap, comforted by the familiar rumble of his voice. He let himself remember two words he’d heard atop the Cliffs of Glaw—words he’d done his best to forget.
My love.
No matter how wonderful it would be to believe those two small, simple words were spoken truly, Jem couldn’t let himself be a fool again. No matter how tenderly Cador held him now in the darkness, spinning a disjointed tale that made little sense for no other reason than to comfort.
“Then the woodsman… Well, he was angry, of course. So he…”
Jem was about to make a suggestion when a sharp rap-rap-rap sounded in the distance, quickly growing louder. Nearer. Jem scrambled up, Cador fumbling in the darkness to loom in front of him.
“Stay behind me,” he whispered.
“Yes, obviously!”
He blinked at an orange glow, peeking around Cador’s bulk as a swaying lantern came into view held by a frantic-looking guard. The sharp footsteps rang out, Jem’s mother emerging from the shadows.
“Mother!” Jem’s knees almost buckled in relief as he stepped around Cador.
Dark hair curling loose down her back, clad only in her nightgown with a flowing robe cinched tightly around her slim waist, she strode to the cell door, her metal-heeled slippers ringing on the dank stone.
Mouth agape and eyes wide, she stared, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
She didn’t wear her golden crown, and her brown skin so much like Jem’s own glistened at her hairline with a faint sheen of sweat as though she’d exerted herself.
The young male guard was already struggling with the key, bumbling and dropping it with a clang as she hissed, “Open this door at once!”
The female guard from earlier appeared with another lantern. She elbowed him out of the way and used her key to open the cell in the swaying light. Jem hurtled into his mother’s arms. Lavender filled his nose, tears prickling his eyes. Please let this be real and not a dream.
“Oh, my darling. My poor boy.” She clung to him. “Are you hurt?”
Yes! He wanted to scream it. He’d never been hurt so much in his life. But he shook his head against her shoulder before forcing himself to step back and stand up straight.
“Only tired and hungry. We—” He looked behind at Cador still inside the cell. Cador watched him with a flat expression. Waiting.
Jem couldn’t breathe. Here was his chance. Slam the door and twist the key. Lock Cador in the dungeon and haul his tas down. Make them pay for plotting to hurt him, for their lies. Yet now that the moment had arrived, now that he stood before his mother again…
She looked from him to Cador and back again, concern pinching her bare face, her eyes and lips not painted with her usual makeup.
Jem couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her so unguarded, the lack of makeup somehow making her seem younger rather than older.
He thought of how marrying Cador was the first princely duty she’d entrusted him with.
He couldn’t disappoint her. He couldn’t fail. And to help Ergh’s children, he must put aside his own needs.
Jem said, “We told them who we were, but they wouldn’t believe us.” He extended his hand to Cador, who stepped from the cell and grasped it tightly, his palm clammy.
What are you doing? Tell her!
She would believe him—of course she would. Indeed, she eyed Cador suspiciously. But Jem couldn’t make himself say it. It made no sense, but he felt like he’d failed somehow, though he’d done nothing wrong.
Most of all, he couldn’t leave Cador in the stinking darkness.
Perhaps he truly was weak, and this was precisely why the chieftain had considered him nothing but a pawn. Yet Jem took Cador’s hand as he had in the black tunnel beneath the Holy Place. He couldn’t abandon him to the dungeon. Not now at least.
If not now, when?
The guards fell all over themselves apologizing, and the queen silenced them with an impatient flick of her hand. “Enough! You’re lucky my maid woke me with gossip, knowing how concerned I’ve been since we learned my son had returned early from Ergh.”
“Oh!” Jem sighed in relief. “Jory did arrive to tell you?” The dungeon guards weren’t as well informed as they thought. “He is well?”
Mother brushed back Jem’s hair from his forehead. “Yes, albeit exhausted. Still, he insisted on accompanying the chieftain north.”
“Tas isn’t here?” Cador exhaled sharply. “But…”
She sighed. “I’m afraid he’s gone to find you.
When we received word, he was beside himself with worry.
I tried to convince him to stay, but…” She smiled softly, pressing a kiss to Jem’s head.
“I can understand a parent’s desire to see their children safe and sound with their own eyes.
I sent my son Locryn with them in my stead. ”
Jem rubbed his face. “Gods, nothing has gone to plan. We’ll all have run pell-mell over Onan by the time we’re reunited.”
“I’ll send riders immediately to fetch your brother and the chieftain back,” Mother said. “My darling, don’t fret. I think bathing and rest is an immediate necessity, yes?”
She glanced at the guards. “Send word to have Prince Jowan’s bath readied.” She frowned at Jem. “We have no appropriate marital chamber prepared, and it’s the middle of the night.”
After another moment of debate, Jem said, “We’ll be fine in my room.” He smiled. “I’ve missed it.” That much was certainly true.
“Of course, my dearest. Now let’s leave this place.”
A groan echoed, and Jem said, “You must send the healer to see the other prisoner. They have been quite unwell.”
Mother nodded to the female guard. “See to it.”
Jem realized he was still holding Cador’s hand as they made their way through the dungeon’s tunnel. He hadn’t imagined touching Cador could ever feel so natural again. He tugged his hand free. It was unwise to let himself get too comfortable.
By the time they were outside in the fresh night air, Jem limped, his cut heel throbbing once more. Mother narrowed her gaze. “You said you were unhurt.”
“Oh, it’s just a cut.”
She looked between him and Cador. “Mmm.” To another harried-looking guard, she snapped, “Tell the healer to see to Prince Jowan as well.”
An open carriage awaited them, and Jem had to admit he was glad not to have to trudge all the way up to the castle. He sat wedged beside Cador’s bulk, his mother on the seat across watching them with a mild expression Jem knew hid a whirlwind of thoughts.
“What have you heard of King Perran?” Jem asked.
Her face soured. “I suspect he means to attack us, and we are preparing accordingly. We’ll discuss it once you’ve recovered from your journey.”
Jem couldn’t deny his relief at postponing that discussion. He was so very tired, and his mother likely already knew more than he did thanks to her spies.
“You haven’t had fires here?” Cador asked.
“No, praise the gods,” she said. “It has been certainly drier than usual, but we’ve been extremely fortunate. Summer is almost over, so we’re hoping the rains will come any day now.”
Another tense silence descended, broken only by the clatter of hooves and creak of the carriage as it bore them up the steep, winding slope. Jem gazed up at the castle, joy fizzing through him.
So many times he’d run up this hill after a day with his hatchlings by the lake. Stars blanketed the sky, and he breathed the sweet, clean air deeply.
Home .
At the castle, the old housekeeper—who’d clearly been roused from her bed—greeted him fondly, and Mother bade her to show Cador to Jem’s chamber, holding Jem back with a firm hand on his arm.
As ridiculous as he felt standing in the castle’s grand foyer in his ratty, torn, and stained cleric robe with his feet dirty and bare, at least he and his mother were soon alone. In the day, the foyer was staffed and bustling, and it was strange to be there in the wee hours.
Mother squeezed Jem’s hands, meeting his gaze intensely. “My darling. I’ve been so worried about you. Tell me the truth. Did that beast hurt you?”
He opened and closed his mouth, then shook his head. “I’m fine.”
Her nostrils flared. “ Jem .”
Without warning, resentment surged through the desire to make her proud. “You were the one who forced me to marry him!” His words rang off the grand entrance’s tile mosaic. “Where was all this concern when you shipped me off to Ergh alone?”
He waited for her to speak of his princely duties, but she only watched him silently before asking, “Has he hurt you? Did he force you to return to Onan? For what purpose? You’re safe from him now. Shall I call the guard? There’s room in the dungeon.”
The tug of war inside him raged, now the desire to punish Cador and then to protect and defend him pulling Jem this way and that. “No. Things were not as we were led to believe in Ergh, but I’m all right.”
“I don’t think I believe you.” She gripped his hands.
“I’ve struggled. It’s been very difficult. But I’ve prevailed, and now Cador and I have a shared goal in returning early. I’m not in danger from him.”
After a moment, she nodded. “If you insist, I’ll leave it for now.”
“Yes. There are more important things we must deal with. I hardly know where to start.”
Face softening, she pulled him into a welcome, warm embrace. “It can wait until you’ve rested.” She leaned back, nose wrinkling. “Once you’re not so…bedraggled.”
“I’m amazed you’re willing to hug me in this revolting state.”
Smiling, she took his face in her hands. “My darling, I’d jump into the pig pen if it meant holding you again. Actually, you look a bit as you did that time you traipsed through the mud to rescue that dillywig with a broken wing. Do you remember?”
He laughed, and it was wonderful . “How could I forget? Father was furious since the clerics were visiting and I was late to the feast.”
“You still had dirt under your fingernails and smudged on your chin even once I banished you to get clean.”
“Is everyone well? I can’t wait to see them.” Especially Santo, but he didn’t say that aloud.
“Yes, Pasco’s and Locryn’s wives and children are safe down at the summer house on the shore.
Santo and Arthek are well, but worried about you, of course.
Pasco as well, but I let them all sleep.
I didn’t want to raise hopes unnecessarily, and with your father you know it would take an army to wake him, so it was easy for me to slip away. ”
Jem was dubious his brother Pasco would worry overmuch about him, but didn’t argue. The mention of armies returned his thoughts to King Perran, then Ergh and Hedrok and the terrible suffering. Had the healing waters helped? Were Delen and the others far from the castle? Oh, and the clerics!
“Most of the clerics had left the Holy Place before we arrived.”
“Ysella is here, yes. We are coordinating.” She paused. “Are you sure Cador is not a threat?”
He hesitated. “I’m sure. For the moment, at least.”
Her frown didn’t dissipate, but she nodded. “You’re home now, my darling. Everything will be all right. Rest and stop worrying.”
Nose full of lavender, Jem hugged his mother and prayed it was true.