AMBERHILL
She was very mysterious, Xandis Pierce Amberhill
mused, as he watched Karigan G’ladheon walk away from him. Even
soaked and mud-splattered, with damp locks of hair falling in her
face, he did not know what to make of her. Ordinary she might
appear at first, but he’d seen her exercise power. He’d seen her vanish for real.
He’d first
encountered her at the Sacor City War Museum, he in his guise as
the Raven Mask to steal a document on exhibit, and she in the guise
of a lady. She’d tried to stop him, even attired in fancy dress as
she was. She grabbed a sword right off a wall display and attempted
to prevent him from taking the document.
He learned much
later that if she’d not been in dress and corset, and had been
using a sword more suitable to her size, she could have seriously
challenged him. At the time he’d only been amused.
The next time he saw
her, they were clear across the country in the west, in the
Teligmar Hills. She had rescued Lady Estora from kidnappers, then
tried to draw them away from the king’s betrothed by disguising
herself as the lady, only to be captured in turn. Amberhill, who’d
tracked the abductors in his own bid to rescue Lady Estora, ended
up rescuing Karigan G’ladheon instead. Or, at least her hand. The
woman possessed enough fortitude to rescue herself.
In the wake of his
adventures in the Teligmar Hills, he learned she was a royal
messenger, which explained much about her courage and sense of
duty. He noted the esteem with which the Weapons regarded her, and
heard much later that she’d assisted them in recovering the book
his cousin, the king, had been so concerned about. She’d earned
herself knighthood.
And then there was
the power.
She’d vanished
before his eyes, yet she would not admit she possessed this
ability. There was also that amazing black stallion that had been
so much more than a horse he’d seen with her. Thoughts of the
otherworldly stallion sent a shiver racing through
him.
With slow strides he
headed toward the castle deep in thought, deftly evading mud
puddles and remnant clumps of snow.
As mysterious as
Karigan G’ladheon was, he now possessed a puzzle of his own. He
gazed at the dragon ring on his finger. The dragon’s tail was
wrapped around its neck. The ruby eye flickered in the sunlight
with gem fire and something more that was beyond his comprehension.
It would require a journey to truly understand it.
Yes, a far-off voice seemed to whisper in his mind.
A journey.
“I plan to embark on
a journey,” Amberhill said. “I do not anticipate being back in time
for the wedding, but I wanted to come to you with my best
wishes.”
Zachary stroked his
beard. He had been flushed and agitated upon entering the
chamber—as if he’d been in an argument or had an unpleasant
encounter. Lady Estora had mentioned something about a meeting.
Whatever it was, it obviously had not gone the way Zachary wanted,
but as they sat there, the king settled down, calmed, and became
engaged in the conversation.
Lady Estora sat
beside him. She was difficult to read. Was she disappointed by
Amberhill’s pronouncement? She’d appeared pleased to see him when
he arrived, placing a light kiss on his cheek, a pleasant scent of
lavender rising from her skin.
He shifted in his
chair, uncomfortable in her presence. Not because she was to be
queen, and not because people proclaimed her the greatest beauty in
the lands, but because he, as the Raven Mask, had engineered her
abduction, only to be double-crossed by his employers, who turned
out to be Second Empire. Guilt and vengeance had driven him to
chase Lady Estora and her abductors all the way to the Teligmar
Hills. Guilt for allowing the gentle lady to be taken into the
hands of such thugs, and vengeance for the murder of his beloved
manservant, Morry. He had yet to feel, however, that he’d fully
righted the wrong.
So there he sat in
the parlor of the royal apartments with his cousin and his cousin’s
intended, and an elderly chaperone pulling thread on some
needlework over by the fire. Servants brought them tea and warm
scones dripping with honey butter. Two Hillander terriers watched
the scones with bright eyes.
“A journey,” Zachary
mused. “I must admit, Xandis, you’ve been a bit mysterious of late,
and if I’m not mistaken, your fortunes appear to have
improved.”
“Yes, my fortunes
have indeed improved, but due to a very sad turn of events. My
manservant passed away. Turns out he’d put aside a good deal of
currency earned while in my grandfather’s employ, and made some
excellent investments. Having no other family, he bequeathed it all
to me.”
“That’s
extraordinary,” Lady Estora murmured.
Amberhill nodded. It
wasn’t every day a lord inherited from his servant. He’d come to
the conclusion that in addition to Morry’s regular excellent wages,
he’d received bonuses from his grandfather, the first Raven Mask,
following particularly successful thefts. But while Morry’s wealth
had been enough to begin repairs on his decaying ancestral manse
and to acquire some fine brood mares to help establish the horse
breeding stable he dreamed of, Amberhill’s true increase in fortune
came from pirate treasure. This he used sparingly so his rise to
great wealth did not appear too sudden. He did not wish for people
to make it a topic of common gossip, or to ask
questions.
He sold exquisite
pieces of jewelry and gems, as well as coins through dealers he’d
worked with when he stole oddments of jewelry as the Raven Mask.
These dealers were of questionable scruples, but adhered to a
solemn oath of privacy as demanded by their clientele. They dealt
in only the finest quality objects as well, but still raised
eyebrows at some of the pieces he’d brought them. They were not
only worth much for their material value, but were of great
antiquity.
“I am sorry for your
loss,” Zachary said. “Where will you go?”
Amberhill grinned,
and with a half-bow toward Lady Estora, he replied, “Why to Coutre
Province to visit the lands your lady’s father endowed upon me.”
Lands he was awarded for his part in trying to rescue Lady Estora.
What would happen if Lord Coutre learned the truth of Amberhill’s
hand in his daughter’s abduction? He’d done much to ensure that
would not happen.
To tell the truth,
he wasn’t sure he would actually visit Coutre Province. He’d
journey to the east coast, yes, but ... The pull was strong, just
not specific.
Go to sea, the voice whispered. Set sail toward the dawn.
His new lands in
Coutre were simply a convenient excuse.
Excuse or not, Lady
Estora expressed her delight at his answer by mentioning sights he
must not miss upon reaching the port of Midhaven, including the
massive chapel of the moon there, a match to any in size in Sacor
City. Her eyes took on a far away look as she described favorite
haunts, her voice a song.
She sounded
homesick. Zachary listened politely. Polite and reserved, sitting
well back in his chair, not leaning toward the lady as if to take
in her every word or absorb her essence.
Not a besotted suitor, Amberhill decided. He almost
sighed, thinking it would be another of those loveless matches made
only for an alliance. Love didn’t matter, really, so long as the
two produced heirs. It made him think, rather rudely, of his horse
breeding farm.
Perhaps if Zachary
put forth a little more effort toward Lady Estora? She was not
difficult to look upon and was very kind and intelligent. A rare
combination. Zachary should consider himself fortunate. It led
Amberhill to suspect there was someone else his cousin desired.
Zachary was a serious fellow, and his affections ran deeper than
Amberhill’s ever could . He was an upstanding man and a good,
decent king, but those virtues were failing him in regard to his
betrothed.
Amberhill kept his
own relations with women frivolous and very temporary. He’d never
fallen in love. Well, maybe for a day or two. He was fond of
several ladies, and they provided him with all the warmth and
pleasure he desired. Zachary should take this other woman to be his
mistress and be done with it. It was a common enough practice among
noble lords.
Zachary then
surprised him by smiling at Lady Estora and commenting on some
detail of the coast of Coutre Province. Lady Estora smiled
back.
“Yes,” she said,
“the view of it from the sea is magnificent.”
Amberhill thought
he’d better attend more to the actual conversation, but the
dynamics between his cousin and the lady intrigued him. It occurred
to him how difficult it must be for the two to get to know one
another when they were always chaperoned and often caught amid the
throngs during official functions. Despite it all, and Amberhill’s
belief Zachary was interested in someone else, Amberhilll had to
re-evaluate and conclude that there was some warmth between the two
after all. They certainly were not smitten with each other, but
they were at least on congenial terms. Perhaps it would evolve into
more with time.
“I climbed the
Seamount when I was, oh, sixteen or so,” Zachary said. “I was
traversing the provinces, seeing what I could see of Sacoridia.
From the summit of Seamount the view of the harbor and islands was
stunning. I found the blueberries growing there most delicious as
well.”
Lady Estora’s eyes
lit up and she delved into yet more reminisences about blueberries
and this Seamount. The two carried on at length and Amberhill was
caught in a yawn.
Lady Estora laughed.
“Our poor Lord Amberhill. We’re boring him with our
memories.”
“Not at all,” he
replied. “It’s just that I’ve been at work all day arranging for
the packing up of my house in the city.” He’d miss his “little”
rental in the noble quarter, but it made no sense to maintain it
when he’d be away for an uncertain length of time doing who knew
what. In the meantime, he’d directed his man-of-business to seek a
suitable house for purchase. A larger, more prominent house now
that he could afford it. It was all about appearances, after
all.
A servant came by
and Amberhill placed his empty teacup on a tray. Lady Estora made a
sharp inhalation.
“My lady?” Amberhill
asked, startled.
“Your ring,” she
said. “It caught in the light. May I see it more
closely?”
“Of course,”
Amberhill replied, silently cursing the flashiness of the thing.
Considering how he acquired the piece, and how it seemed to be
attuned to certain powers, he did not want to be questioned about
it. He supposed he didn’t have to wear it, but he couldn’t help but
wear it. He did not think it safe to just leave it lying about on
his dressing table, and he did not trust leaving it in his pocket.
What if it fell through a hole?
Now that he’d been
directly questioned about the ring, however, he could not hide it,
so he held out his hand for Lady Estora and his cousin to
examine.
“It is beautiful,”
Lady Estora said. “Beautiful and old, if I am not mistaken. Has it
come to you through your family?”
“No. I acquired it
from a dealer of antiquities. I could not resist it when I saw it.”
The lie slipped easily from his tongue.
“I can see why,”
Zachary said. “The craftsmanship is masterful, and the ruby very
clear and fiery.”
“Yes,” Amberhill
murmured, not comfortable with their scrutiny. He withdrew his hand
and they sat back in their chairs.
“Many centuries
ago,” Lady Estora said, “in the days before the Long War, there
were mighty sea kings who ruled much of our coast and conquered
many lands. It is said they were a brutal people in war, but
generous to friends and family, and that they celebrated beauty and
workmanship above all else. Their sigil was the dragon, or sea
drake.”
“In Hillander,”
Zachary said, “remnants of their villages have been found nearly
washing into the sea, and the dragon sigil was found upon the few
artifacts that survived—shards of pottery, metalwork, and the
like.”
Amberhill had heard
of the sea kings before in reference to his ring, from a pair of
eccentric, elderly sisters. He’d been too busy managing his affairs
since then to seek further historical reference to them, so it was
astonishing to learn they’d had a presence in his home province of
Hillander. Perhaps because his estate was inland, and he was not
much of a scholar, he wasn’t surprised he knew nothing about
them.
“How very
interesting,” he said, as if hearing about the sea kings for the
first time.
“I imagine we may
have the blood of their people running through us,” Lady Estora
said. “As for the kings themselves, it is said that during the
Black Ages they boarded their ships with all their treasures and
sailed east into the mist, never to return.”
“Mysterious,”
Amberhill said, and it was. Unlike the old sisters, neither Lady
Estora nor Zachary mentioned anything about actual dragons or any
powers that might emanate from his ring. Then again, those sisters
had been a trifle uncanny themselves.
“There are, of
course, plenty of legends in Coutre about the sea kings,” Estora
said. “Mostly told to terrify children into good behavior. It used
to give me shivers imagining those ships coming back across the sea
with their dragon figureheads and pennants, and ghostly sailors
manning black sails and oars.”
“I wonder,” Zachary
mused, “what the Eletians could tell us of them. Many Eletians who
live now also lived during that time. Not that you would ever
receive straight answers from an Eletian.” His expression was, for
lack of a better description, one of gloom.
The fire in the
hearth was dying down, the elderly chaperone asleep with her
needlework on her lap, and the scones were mere crumbs. Even the
two terriers had sprawled out, sound asleep. Amberhill guessed that
an undue amount of time had elapsed.
“I must be going,”
Amberhill said, and Lady Estora’s expression fell with
disappointment. “But not without wedding gifts first. For my
cousin, a colt or filly of his choosing from the first breeding
season at my estate.”
“Xandis—” Zachary
started to protest.
Amberhill cut him
off with a gesture. “It is entirely my pleasure and no hardship.
Think of what fine promotion it will be for my stables to have
Sacoridia’s king riding one of my foals. Which brings me to Lady
Estora.” He smiled at her. “I’ve one of my stablehands bringing to
Sacor City a yearling filly with a white coat, one of my Goss’
first offspring. She will make a fine hunter and pleasure horse.
Your old mare, as I recall, met her demise at Teligmar.” That was a
kind way of saying she’d been ridden to death.
Lady Estora nodded,
tears brimming in her eyes, and hands clasped together. “I have
missed Falan very much. Thank you.”
“You are welcome,
but I am not finished.” He removed a velvet bag from an inside
pocket of his frock coat and passed it to Lady Estora.
“What is this?” she
asked.
“Look and
see.”
She withdrew a
delicate gold chain from which hung a pendant fixed with a shining
golden gem like the orb of the sun. Gold was worked around it to
create the sun’s curling rays. She placed one hand to her chest as
though her breath were taken away. Zachary raised an
eyebrow.
“A gold sapphire,”
Amberhill said. He’d thought it would complement her golden hair,
and he was right.
“It’s ... it’s too
much,” Lady Estora said.
“Nonsense. When I
saw it, I knew it must be yours.” He did not tell her he first saw
it in the bowels of a pirate’s corpse. His jeweler had grimaced
when Amberhill gave it to him to clean, but the man did a marvelous
job, and fixed the clasp on the chain as well. He also asked no
questions.
“Where did you find
this piece?” Zachary asked. Did he sound a trifle suspicious? Or
better yet, a little jealous?
Amberhill
half-smiled. “Same dealer as I got my ring. He’s a good eye for
fine antiquities, and so do I.” He wondered, as he did over many of
the pieces he’d recovered, to whom the necklace originally
belonged. Was she as lovely and kind as Lady Estora? Or was she
wicked and cruel? As he gazed at it now in the lady’s palm, it
seemed to him it could have been made only for her.
“Will you put it on
me?” Lady Estora asked.
“No, my lady,”
Amberhill replied. “That’s my cousin’s duty.”
Caught unaware, it
was a moment before Zachary stood and bowed to the lady and took
the necklace to clasp around her neck.
Amberhill had chosen
well. The chain sloped delicately around her neck, and the pendant
dangled just above her cleavage. The facets of the sapphire
sparkled and burned with flames of gold.
“Ah,” he said. “You
are Aeryon come to the Earth to walk among us lowly mortals.” With
the radiance of the gem adding to her natural glow, he could not
help but think the sun goddess was truly in the parlor with them.
She certainly favored Lady Estora.
“You overstate it,”
she said with a laugh.
“No, my lady,”
Zachary said with an uncertain smile, “he does not. But I knew that
even before the necklace.”
His pronouncement
was met with silence. Lady Estora was plainly stunned to hear the
words, and Zachary looked stunned to have spoken them. Amberhill
privately applauded his cousin. Funny what a nice piece of jewelry
could inspire.
“Now, I am afraid, I
must take my leave.” He stood and bowed, and kissed Lady Estora’s
hand. He admired the pendant close-up as his eyes roved over her
breasts.
“Are you sure you
must leave us—the city—so soon?” Lady Estora asked. “I am planning
a ball, a masquerade ball, and we would love for you to
attend.”
“I hope to make my
departure as soon as I may, though I will see what I can do about
the masquerade. No promises, however.”
There was nothing
else to say, so the couple wished him a happy and prosperous
voyage, and he wished them a happy and prosperous marriage. He had
no idea of what lay in the east for him, he just knew he needed to
go, and by the time he returned—if he returned—Zachary and Lady
Estora would be well into their union together.
In the meantime, he
had a late night ahead of him.