My father is Keizo Onjara, King of Alasiri!
Jelena Sakehera stared at Lord Sen, her new father-in-law, uncertain that she had heard him correctly.
Surely Father-in-law is mistaken! I can’t possibly be the daughter of a king!
A tide of conflicting emotions surged through her-elation that she at last knew her sire’s name, dismay that her existence could prove troublesome for him, fear that he would reject her outright, and hope, yes even hope, that he just might accept her, despite everything.
The Sakehera family had gathered together in their private sitting room, to share the evening meal and discuss the day’s events. Tomorrow, the entire family would quit Kerala Castle, ancestral seat of the House of Sakehera, to journey west to Sendai, capital of Alasiri. War with the Soldaran Empire threatened the elven homeland, and the king needed his great lords and generals in the capital so planning for the defense of the country could begin. As Commanding General, Lord Sen’s place on the King’s Council was second in importance only to the king’s brother, Prince Raidan.
The final days of the month of Kishan heralded the end of summer; even as fall approached, the daytime heat remained oppressive. Only after the sun had set did the air cool down to something close to tolerable. With the darkness came gentle breezes-full of the fragrances of honeysuckle and night-blooming jasmine-that ruffled wall hangings and caressed sweat-damp skin.
Jelena and Lord Sen sat apart from the others, on padded stools near one of the open windows. Briefly, she looked away from her father-in-law to glance around the room at the rest of the family. Lady Amara, her mother-in-law, lounged on her favorite couch, reading aloud from a book of children’s stories to her twin daughters Mariso and Jena. Lord Sen’s Heir, Sadaiyo, and his wife Misune, huddled together on a bench at the far end of the room, completely absorbed with one another. Ashinji-Jelena’s heart always skipped a beat whenever she looked at her husband-sat cross-legged on the floor mats, talking to his sister Lani.
Jelena sucked in a breath, struck once again by amazement at her turn of fortune. That she had been taken in by this family and accepted as a daughter, still felt too good to be true, and yet…
Here I am, a former kitchen drudge…whose father just might be the king of the elves!
“I don’t know how my old friend’s path crossed that of a human girl’s, or how it all led to the making of you. The evidence is all circumstantial, and I could still be wrong,” Lord Sen continued. Jelena refocused her attention back to her father-in-law. “But I don’t think so. I know that ring. Only members of the Onjara family wear the White Griffin. Onjara means ‘griffin’ in ancient Siri-dar. Yours is actually a copy of the official Ring of State the king wears. All children of the sovereign are given non-magical copies to wear as signets. Keizo wore the ring you now possess before he ascended the throne. The fact that he gave it to your mother must mean that he had very strong feelings for her.”
“The woman who raised me-Claudia-always said my mother and father loved each other, and that my father gave my mother his ring so, one day, I might use it to find him. I always took that story with a grain of salt,” Jelena said.
“Grain of salt?” Sen repeated quizzically.
“An old Soldaran expression. It means to doubt a little. I’d always hoped to find him some day, but I kept telling myself to be prepared for him to reject me. I still cannot believe what you’re telling me is true, though! Why would the king travel alone in the borderlands?”
“Keizo wasn’t king yet back then. His eldest brother Okame ruled, so he had no expectations of ever sitting on the throne. Okame had a family, you see-three sons and two daughters.
“Keizo was restless as a younger man and often traveled far from home. He even journeyed to the human lands east of our borders…not to the Empire, of course, but there are still human countries not yet under the yolk of the Soldarans and who don’t hate us. Ai, the stories he used to tell… I remember a time, ‘bout eighteen years ago, when my old friend Zin-all his close friends called him that back before he became our king-showed up at my gate dirty, thin, and hobbling on a poorly set broken leg.
“He wouldn’t tell me exactly what had happened to him, only that he’d had an accident, but that he’d received help from someone. This person kept him alive until he was strong enough to make it back home.”
“My mother,” Jelena whispered.
“Seems so. Keizo was tight as an oyster, though. Never said any more about it. He stayed near two weeks, then returned to Sendai. Shortly thereafter, word reached us that King Okame and his entire family had drowned in a sudden unseasonable storm off the coast of the Arrisae Islands. They’d been spending time at the royal retreat on the main island. The ship bringing them back to the mainland struck a reef during the gale and foundered. Everyone on board perished. When next I saw my childhood friend, he was my king and I was accepting the post as Commanding General of the Armies of Alasiri.”
Sen fell silent, as if he knew Jelena needed a few moments to digest the astounding revelation he had just laid upon her.
My father is the elf king! How am I ever going to take this all in?
Jelena had lived with the shame of her mixed blood all her life, and even when she thought she had escaped racial bigotry, she had encountered it again, albeit in a less virulent form, among her father’s people. Now, she had just learned the blood of elven royalty flowed in her veins.
Will this make any real difference? I am still hikui…a half-breed, she thought.
The twins squealed in delight as their mother finished reading.
“Please, Mother…,” Jena begged, and Mariso breathlessly completed the sentence, “Read us one more!”
“No, girls,” Amara replied as she closed the book. “It is time for you two to go to bed. We must get up very early. ”
“Ooooooh!” the children cried.
“Girls! Do as your mother says,” Sen commanded, his voice stern, but affectionate. “You don’t want to get left behind tomorrow morning because no one can wake you, do you?” Mournfully, the two little blond heads shook in unison. “Very good. Now, come and kiss your old father good night.”
After Amara had taken the twins off to bed, Jelena resumed her conversation with Sen.
“What will all of this mean, Father?” Jelena asked. “If I’m truly the king’s daughter, does that mean I’m a…a princess ? Even though I’m hikui? You said my existence will complicate my father’s life. How so?”
“Keizo has a younger brother, Prince Raidan, who is officially his Heir, at least until he marries and produces a child…an okui child,” Sen replied. “So far, the king has shown no inclination to marry, and his longtime companion has not born him any children as yet. The prince…well, let’s just say he won’t exactly welcome with open arms anyone who could become a potential rival to his claim.”
Jelena frowned. “So you think Prince Raidan-my uncle-would view me as a threat?”
“Yes,” Sen replied.
Jelena shook her head. “I’ve gone from bastard half-breed scullery maid to king’s daughter in the blink of an eye… This is all so unreal.”
“What are you two talking about over here? You both look so serious.” Ashinji had come up behind her and he now slipped his arms around her waist. “You’ve been huddled with my wife for too long, Father. I miss her and want her back.” He planted a kiss on the side of her neck, then rested his chin on her shoulder.
Jelena’s breath caught in her throat, the way it always did when Ashinji kissed her there. “Your father had some important news for me, Ashi, about my own father,” Jelena explained. “I’ll tell you everything later, when we’re alone.”
Ashinji looked first at his father and then at Jelena. “I gather from the looks on your faces that the situation isn’t entirely good,” he commented.
Sen said nothing and Jelena turned her head to kiss Ashinji’s cheek. “Later, I promise,” she repeated.
“Well, then! I think we’d all best get to bed,” Sen said, loud enough to catch Lani, Sadaiyo, and Misune’s attentions. “We’ve got an early start tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll meet you in the stables at dawn, Father,” Sadaiyo said as he and Misune exited the sitting room, arm in arm.
“G’night, Father,” Lani murmured sleepily, planting a quick kiss on Sen’s cheek as she followed her oldest brother out. “’Night, Ashi, Jelena.”
“I’m still surprised that Mother and the girls are coming to Sendai with us,” Ashinji said after Lani had left.
Sen shrugged. “It’s been years since your mother saw the capital. I think she’s grown a bit restless out here in the country and wants to get a taste of the city for a change. I also know she’s looking to show Lani off… Not much in the way of useful young men this far east, you know. What better place to snag a rich young heir than at court, eh?”
Jelena remembered Ashinji mentioning his sister had taken a fancy to Misune’s older brother Ibeji.
Perhaps Father-in-law believes one match between the Sakehera and the Dai families is enough, she thought.
“Come, husband. Let’s get to bed,” she said.
Ashinji nodded in agreement and as the two of them headed for the door, Sen called out, “First light, children! Don’t oversleep!”
Later, as they lay snuggled together beneath the coverlets, Jelena told Ashinji everything his father had told her about her sire.
“If this is true and you really are the king’s daughter…it could change everything, Jelena,” Ashinji responded, his voice soft and pensive. Jelena could hear the worry behind his quiet words. She grabbed his chin and pulled until he looked into her eyes.
“It changes nothing, Ashi. None of us knows how the king will greet the news that he has a hikui daughter. He may reject me outright. Or he may acknowledge my existence but refuse to have any direct contact with me.”
“Or he might accept you with open arms and proclaim you his Heir.”
“You know as well as I do that I can’t be his Heir. It’s the law. Even if, by some miracle of the gods, he does accept me, I will still be your wife and a Sakehera first. My future is with you, no matter what.”
“I still can’t help but worry about where this all could lead,” Ashinji murmured.
He slid downwards and rested his head between her breasts. Tenderly, Jelena ran her fingers through his hair. “You’ll never lose me, Ashi, I promise,” she whispered. He said nothing and instead replied with his body.
As they made love, his caresses were gentle as usual, but at the same time, a little desperate. Afterwards, he held her tight against him, as if he feared to let go; even as they both drifted off to sleep, his arms never loosened.
"Jelena…wake up, love. We must get ready to go.”
Jelena groaned and pulled the covers over her head. She’d had some difficulty falling asleep last night, so it seemed as if she had just drifted off. Now, Ashinji was pestering her to get up.
Ohhhh, I don’t want to leave this bed. I’m too comfortable!
A little candle flame of memory sparked in her head. She sat up abruptly, and her forehead met Ashinji’s nose with a painful smack.
“Owww!” they both yelled.
“Ashi, are you all right?” Jelena cried, rubbing her head with one hand and reaching out to her husband with the other.
“Mmmmph,” he mumbled behind hands cupped over his nose and mouth. Jelena grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away, then gasped with dismay.
“Goddess’ tits , your head is hard, woman!” Ashinji growled. “That is the last time I try to wake you with my nose pressed to your face!” In the feeble glow of the night lamp beside the bed, Jelena saw the slow trickle of scarlet that ran down from one nostril and dripped off Ashinji’s chin into his open palm. “Ai, this is going to really hurt later on,” he sighed.
Jelena bit down on her lower lip, unsure if she wanted to laugh or cry. Ashinji must have noticed her stricken look, for he immediately sought to reassure her. “I don’t think it’s broken, just bloodied. I’ve had plenty of these before, every soldier has. Don’t worry.” He crawled out of bed and padded over to his floor chest where he proceeded to rummage through its contents. He pulled out a piece of cloth and pressed it to his nose.
Jelena got up and sidled over to wrap her arms around Ashinji from behind. She laid her cheek against his head; even after a day and a night, the aroma of sweet almond still clung to his hair.
“Careful, my love,” Ashinji warned, his voice muffled by the cloth pressed to his nose. “If you keep touching me like that, we’ll never get out of this room and my father will be forced to leave us behind.” He twisted in her embrace to face her.
“I think we have a little time yet before we must go,” Jelena whispered, her eyes smoldering with desire. The bloodied cloth slipped from Ashinji’s fingers.
A soft knock at the door interrupted their kiss. “Oh, damn, damn…” Ashinji muttered. “That must be Akan.” Jelena scrambled for the bed and dove beneath the coverlets while Ashinji threw on a robe and went to open the door.
“Good morning, my lord. I’ve brought you something to eat.” Akan was a small, older man, lame in the left leg from a childhood accident. He had served as Ashinji’s valet ever since Ashinji had been old enough to have private quarters. Whenever his young lord returned home on leave, Akan resumed his old duties.
The valet entered, carrying a large tray in his hands. He limped over to the low dining table and set his burden down.
“Thank you, Akan.” Ashinji said, sniffing and wiping his nose on a sleeve.
The valet bowed. “I hope my lady likes blackberries,” he said, glancing discreetly in Jelena’s direction. “They were picked fresh just yesterday. My lord Sen instructed that the best should be sent up this morning especially for your enjoyment.”
Jelena sat up, careful to keep herself covered. “I love blackberries! Tell my father-in-law I said ‘thank you’.” Akan smiled and bowed to Jelena then turned once more to Ashinji. “The bath is ready whenever you and my lady wish to use it. My lord Sen says not to dawdle.” He smiled again in gentle amusement. “I’ll send up Jawara to assist with your armor when you are finished. Uh, my lord Ashinji, do you need help with your nose?”
Ashinji grimaced and shook his head. “No, thanks. I think I have things under control.” Akan nodded, bowed a final time, and departed.
Jelena bounded out of bed and threw on a robe, then sat down at the table and began attacking the blackberries with relish while Ashinji sipped a mug of tea. Besides the berries, Akan had brought smoked fish, fresh bread, soft cheese flavored with herbs, and the favorite breakfast food of all elves-or so it seemed to Jelena-sour yogurt.
“We’ll be on the road at least seven days, possibly longer. The wagons and my mother’s carriage will slow us considerably.” Ashinji commented. He grabbed the yogurt and took a mouthful directly from the pot. Jelena wrinkled her nose in distaste. Try as she might, she could not cultivate a taste for the thick, tangy, fermented milk.
“I’m still not exactly sure why my mother chose to come along,” Ashinji continued. “She’s never expressed any interest in attending court before.”
“Your father says it’s to find Lani a husband. Many more boys to choose from!” Jelena giggled.
Ashinji shrugged. “I guess that’s a good reason. It’s true my parents will have a much bigger selection in Sendai than they would all the way out here. I don’t know how cooperative Lani will be, though. My sister has a mind of her own and a strong will to match. She’s set her sights on Ibeji Dai and I’m not sure she can be dissuaded.”
“Perhaps your parents will allow Lani to choose for herself who she wishes to marry, like they did you.”
“Sadly, no. Lani is too important. She’s the oldest girl and tradition dictates the match made for her must be as good as the one made for the Heir.” Ashinji sighed. “Lani and I are a lot alike. I know how much she resents being treated as a commodity, but that’s how things are. The twins, now, they are the truly fortunate ones. No one will much care who they marry, or even if they marry. Youngest children are the only ones allowed that kind of freedom.”
Jelena hadn’t had much opportunity to interact with Ashinji’s favorite sibling, but she resolved to get to know Lani better while they traveled to the capital. “We’d better go down to the bath house,” she said. “You heard what Akan said. No dawdling!”
The newlyweds found it hard not to linger in the bath house; the sheer sensual bliss of the hot water made it nigh impossible to hurry. They almost always ended up making love whenever they shared a bath, and it took a mighty effort not to give in to the urge to do so now.
Back in their chamber, Jelena busied herself with last minute packing while Ashinji checked his armor a final time. He had no plans to wear it on the journey, but he still needed to make sure it was in perfect condition before Jawara, the steward in charge of all the family armor and weaponry, came to fetch and stow it with the baggage.
Jelena sighed as she examined the piles of clothing laid out on the bed. Amara had given her several new sets of garments as a wedding present; now that she could finally trade her plain cotton and wool for the fine silks and linens of a noble lady, Jelena wondered at her reluctance to wear any of the new outfits.
“Ashi, will your mother be upset if I do not wish to wear any of the new clothes she gave me?” she asked.
“What, do you not like them?” he responded, pausing in his task to look at her.
“I do. I love them, but…” She shook her head, exasperated at her own ambivalence. “I am the wife of a nobleman now! I am supposed to dress like one, not like a…a servant!” she huffed, holding up one of her well-worn cotton tunics. “Truth is, I feel more comfortable in simple things,” she admitted.
“Wear whatever you like, love,” Ashinji replied. “You’ll look beautiful, regardless.”
Jelena smiled gratefully at her husband.
“I will be in the saddle all day, and my new clothes are far too nice to ruin with dust and horse sweat. That’s settled, then. The new things go with the baggage.”
As she donned her old tunic, scruffy breeches and riding boots, she wondered if she would ever feel truly comfortable in anything else.
Jawara the steward came for the baggage and armor, and with a message. “My lord, you are needed in the lower yard right away,” he said.
“I’ll see you later.” Ashinji gave her a quick kiss and left Jelena to finish her packing in solitude.
Not much remained for her to do, other than extinguish the lamps. Slinging her saddlebags over one shoulder, she glanced once more around the room, then departed, leaving the door ajar so Akan would know that he could enter at will. Taking the outer stairs two at a time, she descended to ground level and started toward the stables.
Sendai! I’m going to Sendai to meet my father, the king!
She gave in to excitement and laughed aloud.
“Jelena, really! You must learn to dress more appropriately now that you’re a member of this family. It simply won’t due for you to go around looking like one of the servants, even if it is what you’re accustomed to.”
Jelena felt a rush of irritation, but suppressed the sharp retort that sprang to her lips in favor of a more measured response. She regarded Sadaiyo’s wife with a cool eye. “I’m sorry if my clothes don’t measure up to your high standards, Sister, but for now, this is what I wish to wear,” she replied in as even a tone of voice as she could manage under the circumstances.
Misune Sakehera cut an imposing figure mounted upon a tall, bay stallion. She was truly the most beautiful woman Jelena had ever seen. Her jet-black, waist-length hair, secured at the nape of her neck with a heavy silver clip, gleamed like satin in the morning sun. The horse, as beautiful and imperious as its mistress, flattened his ears and glared at Jelena out of one liquid brown eye. Jelena, still afoot and leading her trusty mare Willow, prudently kept her distance.
Misune’s regal nostrils flared. “Don’t use that tone with me, girl,” she replied. “You should be grateful for instruction from your betters. Just because you’ve somehow managed to gain a place in this family doesn’t mean you’re anywhere near the equal of the least one of us.” With a dismissive wave of her gloved hand, Misune turned the stallion’s head and rode off, leaving Jelena shaking with anger.
Is it always going to be this way? she raged. Will I have to take this abuse for the rest of my life, no matter where I go? Jelena wrestled with the near overwhelming urge to run after Misune, to scream into that haughty face that she was the daughter of the King of Alasiri and that no one, not even the future Lady of Kerala could speak to her so rudely ever again.
She took a deep breath to steady herself.
I don’t even know for sure that Keizo Onjara will even acknowledge me as his daughter. Besides, Misune would just laugh in my face and accuse me of lying. No, I can’t be the one to announce my father’s identity. It has to come from him.
“Ah, there’s my beautiful wife!” Ashinji strode up, looking a little harried. He patted Willow’s glossy neck, then asked, “What’s wrong? You look upset.”
“Nothing’s wrong, Ashi. I’m just…” Jelena forced herself to smile. “I’m just anxious to be off,” she lied.
“Hmm,” Ashinji replied, cocking his head and skewering her with his brilliant, green gaze. “I know when you’re not being honest with me, love. Tell me what’s bothering you.” Jelena sighed and told him about Misune’s rude words. “I’ll have to have a talk with my brother’s wife,” Ashinji responded through tight lips.
“No, Ashi, please don’t! You’ll only embarrass me more. If you interfere, it will only confirm her belief that I’m weak and helpless. I can handle Misune in my own way.”
Ashinji gathered her into his arms. “Whatever you wish, love. I’ll leave it to you. Ummm, c’mere,” he murmured, leaning in for a kiss.
“You two really shouldn’t engage in that kind of behavior in public. It’s unseemly. I’m sure Father agrees.”
“Sadaiyo, please. Not now!” Lord Sen growled.
Ashinji turned cold eyes toward his brother. Sadaiyo stood just behind their father’s right shoulder, coolly resplendent in green and black brocade, despite the warmth of the morning. He wore upon his brow a circlet of gold. Heavy gold rings adorned his fingers, which today were sheathed in the finest black kidskin. He looked every inch the Heir, as gaudy as a peacock in contrast to Ashinji, who wore the plain, serviceable brown and green leathers of a common soldier.
Sadaiyo’s expression blended equal parts mockery and amusement. “I’m only pointing out that they should demonstrate a little more restraint…a bit more decorum. Though perhaps it’s too much to expect from a girl with no breeding and a man who would marry such a girl.”
“ That’s enough!!” roared Sen. Jelena, shocked by his uncharacteristic outburst, took a step backward and fetched up against Ashinji, who stood as rigid and still as if he had been turned to stone. “You will apologize to your brother and to my daughter-in-law, and you will treat her with the respect she is due as a member of my House. Is that understood? ” Sen’s eyes blazed with fury.
An uncomfortable silence descended on the yard as everyone’s attention focused on the drama playing out in their midst.
Sadaiyo’s face blanched, and his hands dropped to his sides. His eyes, normally sardonic, had gone blank, like a pair of blue-grey glass spheres. He turned to face Ashinji and bowed stiffly. “My apologies, Brother. Please forgive my rudeness. My behavior was inexcusable. My apologies to your wife as well.” He refused to look at Jelena, which chilled her more than any threat that his eyes could make. Instinctively, she groped for Ashinji’s hand, and a quick glance at his profile sent a sick wave of fear churning through her gut. At that moment, she had no doubt that Ashinji and Sadaiyo were inexorably headed for a mortal showdown if someone or something didn’t intervene.
“I accept your apology, Brother,” Ashinji replied. His grip on Jelena’s hand tightened almost to the point of pain, then relaxed.
As quickly as Sen’s anger had erupted, it subsided and then seemed to dissipate altogether. He slapped each of his sons on the back in turn. “Come, now, boys. Let’s not ruin a perfectly good morning. Not very dignified, arguing in front of the staff, y’know. Sadaiyo, go collect that wife of yours. Then, mount up. You too, Youngest Son. The day’s a’wasting and we’ve a fair piece to ride before we reach our evening camp. Jelena, my dear, I shall require your services as messenger today. I want you to ride ahead to announce our arrival to Lord Nadaka. You know the way, of course.”
“Yes, Father,” Jelena replied crisply. Sadaiyo spun on his heel and stalked off. Sen watched him go, then shook his head and sighed. He glanced at Ashinji, then walked away toward the main entrance of the castle, where Lady Amara and the three Sakehera daughters awaited the carriage that would transport them to Sendai.
Jelena looked into Ashinji’s face, so cold and still that it seemed more like a carved mask than the face of a living man. “Ashinji,” she whispered, and like a split wineskin, his whole body appeared to deflate as he relaxed into her arms.
They clung to each other in silence, needing no words to communicate their feelings to one another. After awhile, Ashinji pulled away and said, “You’d better mount up and get going. Nadaka’s estate is a good four hour’s ride from here and they’ll want at least a couple of hours to prepare for us.”
“Ashi, please promise me you won’t argue with your brother. It worries me how much bad feeling there is between you. Promise!”
People and horses swirled around them like the waters of a river split by a boulder, but Jelena was deaf and blind to it all. At this moment, all that existed in her world were Ashinji and herself, and all that mattered to her was his safety.
Ashinji reached out and caressed her cheek, and a soft smile curved the corners of his mouth. He nodded. “I promise…for you, my love…that I will try. Now, you’d better go.” He held her stirrup as she mounted Willow, then stood at the mare’s head as she checked the security of her gear. When she finished her inspection, she gathered the reins. Ashinji stepped aside, out of the mare’s way. Jelena looked down at him and her heart melted in a warm, sweet rush.
“Be careful!” Ashinji called out as Jelena clapped her heels to Willow’s flanks and the mare started toward the main gate. “I’ll see you tonight!” He waved and turned to walk back toward the stables.
“Jelena! Jelena, wait!” a voice cried out. Jelena pulled Willow to a stop as Kami came trotting up, huffing and puffing. The young guard drew in a huge breath and let her words spill out in a rush. “I’m so glad I caught you before you left! I didn’t want you to leave before I had a chance to say goodbye.”
“Kami, you should not be running like that in your condition!” Jelena chastised.
Kami made a face. “Oh, stop! I’m pregnant, not sick! You’re as bad as Gendan. Besides, the doctor says that exercise is good for both me and the baby.”
Jelena smiled. “This is not ‘goodbye’, Kami, only ‘see you again soon’. When I return, we will share a bottle of wine and I will tell you all about Sendai.”
Kami sniffed and wiped at eyes brimming with tears. “I’ll miss you, Jelena,” she said.
“I will miss you, too.”
The last thing Jelena saw as she left Kerala that morning was Kami, standing in the middle of the lower gate, waving.
Lord Nadaka proved to be a gracious host, despite his tendency toward pomposity. He grandiosely referred to his home as Nadaka Castle, even though it was, in actuality, a large manor house and not a castle at all.
Jelena had delivered messages to Nadaka Castle before; when she rode through the gate, tired and dusty from the road, a stable boy took Willow while one of the house servants ushered her into the main room.
Lord Nadaka recognized her immediately and seemed quite taken with the fact that his liege lord had chosen to spend the night on his estate. Still unaware of her changed status, he nonetheless kindly offered to let her await the arrival of the rest of the family in the main room, and gratefully, Jelena accepted. A serving girl brought in bread, cheese, ripe red apples, and beer; munching contentedly, Jelena settled down on a bench to wait.
The warm, close air of the room, combined with a full stomach, worked its magic, and soon, Jelena found it impossible to keep her eyes open. Using her saddlebag as a pillow, she stretched out on the bench and fell quickly into sleep.
She awoke to the sound of voices. Sen and Nadaka came bustling through the front door, Ashinji and Sadaiyo close at their heels.
“Ai, there you are!” Ashinji came over and planted a firm kiss upon her lips. Jelena saw Lord Nadaka’s eyes widen in surprise.
Apparently, so did Sen. “Nadaka, I see you’ve shown my new daughter-in-law your fine hospitality already…I thank you.”
“My lord…I…I thought the girl was just your messenger,” Nadaka stammered, his round face flushing crimson. “Had I known…”
“Easy, my friend,” Sen replied jovially. “I meant no reproach. Jelena and my son Ashinji here, were just married. She is an exceptionally modest girl, so I’m not surprised she didn’t tell you.” Nadaka looked as if a large stone had just been rolled off his chest.
“Poor Nadaka,” Ashinji whispered. “Why didn’t you say something to him?” He glowered at her in mock anger.
Jelena shrugged. “I don’t know. I figured he’d find out in due time…Besides, the look on his face was worth the wait!”
“Modest, huh! You’re wicked, that’s what you are!” Ashinji smiled.
That evening, the two families dined on the best fare Nadaka Castle could provide, which Jelena found to be fine, indeed. She could see the intense curiosity about her in the faces of Lord Nadaka and his family, but they were all much too polite to ask any direct questions, other than those concerning the details of the wedding.
After the meal, Nadaka’s six daughters staged a Bal Oku recital for the entertainment of their guests. Bal Oku-an ancient form of musical theater revered as high art among the elven people-employed highly stylized singing and dance to tell stories, usually tales from elven mythology. The slow, ponderous rhythms and droning quality of the music were not to Jelena’s taste; when the last chord shivered into silence, she felt an intense sense of relief.
“That was absolutely dreadful,” Ashinji whispered into her ear. She had to fight hard not to giggle as she clapped politely along with everyone else.
After the girls had collected their instruments and filed out of the room, Sen, stifling a yawn behind his hand, said, “Ai, Nadaka, it’s been a long day. It’s time my family and I were abed. We’ve got another long stretch of road ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Of course, Lord Sen,” Nadaka replied, rising quickly to his feet. His wife promptly followed suit. “Lady Nadaka and I are honored to give up our own sleeping quarters to you and your family. Your guards and servants are welcome to bunk down here in the main room, or out in the yard, if any would prefer to sleep under the stars.”
“Most generous of you, Nadaka. My thanks.” Sen inclined his head.
Jelena sighed inwardly.
I would much rather sleep outdoors on the hard ground than in the same room with Sadaiyo, she thought , but I can’t ask Ashi to give up the comfort of a soft bed, not after he’s spent all day in the saddle.
Lord and Lady Nadaka’s bedroom proved to be quite large, with plenty of free space in which to spread out. Thick, well-cushioned mats covered the floor, and Nadaka had provided more than enough bedding to make reasonably comfortable arrangements. Sen and Amara took the large bed and everyone else, including the twins, staked out floor space. The two girls chattered like bright little birds in a special language known only to themselves as they happily made their pallets.
Just before he retired, Nadaka poked his head in and informed them that the family’s bath house was at the disposal of anyone who wished to use it, either tonight or tomorrow morning. With a cheery good night, he left them to themselves.
Jelena assembled a cozy pile of blankets and pillows in the corner farthest from the bed, and after stripping down to her undertunic, she flopped onto the makeshift pallet with a grateful sigh.
Why am I so tired? It’s not as if I haven’t spent hours in the saddle before…I hope I’m not coming down with a fever.
Not even Sadaiyo’s close proximity could keep sleep at bay. She drifted off to the soft murmur of conversation between Sen and his two sons.
Later, she awoke to find Ashinji settled beside her, sound asleep. She lay still and listened to the sounds of the night: Lord Sen snoring softly from the bed, crickets chirping outside the open window, and from the opposite corner, a lot of rustling.
At first, she didn’t recognize what her ears heard until a sigh and a soft moan made it all too clear. The last thing Jelena wanted to be privy to was Sadaiyo and Misune’s lovemaking.
Gods…must I listen to this?
Misune let out a little gasp and Jelena buried her head beneath the covers. Sen snored on, oblivious. Ashinji stirred but did not wake. The sound of the lovers’ bodies moving together grew more frenzied.
Hurry up and finish, for the gods’ sake!
The thought of Sadaiyo so close to her while in the throes of sexual passion filled her with disgust. She wondered how Misune would feel knowing that her husband had attempted to rape the woman his brother loved, purely out of spite.
She’d be really angry, but only because her husband would consider dirtying himself by having me, Jelena thought bitterly.
At last, the thrashing stopped. Jelena breathed a sigh of relief and emerged from her refuge. She tried to relax and clear her mind, but the peace of her night had been shattered, and now she feared that sleep would elude her.
She lay staring at the ceiling, wide awake and a little queasy. The light from the night lamp cast faint, dancing shadows on the wood beams above her head. As she watched, the shadows seemed to grow darker and then coalesce into the vague shape of a face.
At first, she thought her eyes were deceiving her. She blinked a few times, but the face remained; in fact, it seemed even more distinct. She could now identify a dark smudge of a mouth, the suggestion of a long, straight nose, and two black holes where the eyes would be.
I should be afraid, she thought, but for some reason, she felt more curious than fearful, perhaps because Ashinji lay beside her.
Or maybe because what I’m seeing is not really there.
The face began to fade almost as quickly as it had formed until nothing remained but the flickering shadows created by the night lamp. Jelena blinked again, already convinced she had imagined the whole thing. She closed her eyes and willed herself to relax, and soon, Ashinji’s rhythmic breathing lulled her back to sleep.
Sen rousted them all just before sunrise. After everyone had a quick turn in Nadaka’s bath house, they sat down to a light breakfast in the main room with the Kerala staff. Three of Nadaka’s serving women circulated among the tables, pouring tea.
Ashinji indicated that Jelena should sit and he would bring them their food. While she waited, her mind recalled the strange vision of the night before. Had the face she’d seen been real, or merely a disturbing hallucination, fabricated out of night shadows and dreamstuff?
And if it was real, who or what is behind it, and more importantly, what did it want? Could this…this whatever it is… have been drawn to me by the blue fire?
Am I in danger?
Ashinji returned with two bowls of porridge and a plate loaded with thick slices of fresh-baked bread. A servant came by and filled their mugs with hot black tea. They ate quickly, for Sen wanted to get as early a start as possible. As she ate, Jelena considered whether she should tell Ashinji about the face or keep it to herself. She decided to say nothing for now; since she didn’t know for sure if the whole thing were real or imagined, she didn’t wish to unduly upset him. If it happened again, she would tell him.
After breakfast, Sen instructed Jelena to ride ahead again this day, and herald their arrival to their next host, Lady Shona. Shona was Amara’s first cousin and childhood playmate, and it had been several years since they’d last seen each other.
“I’ll pack my saddlebags and leave right away,” Jelena declared.
“I’ll come see you off,” Ashinji said. The two of them excused themselves and headed for the stairs leading up to the second-level sleeping quarters. It took only a few moments to collect her things. Before donning a light coat against the early morning chill, she tugged on the chain holding her father’s signet and drew the ring from beneath her tunic. Sliding the warm metal onto her thumb, she held her hand up before her eyes to stare at the stylized griffin inlaid into the onyx surface. Perhaps, if she stared hard enough, the ring would reveal some of what dwelled within the soul of the man for whom it had been made. Perhaps it would tell her if acceptance or rejection lay ahead.
If only it were that simple.
“You’re worried about meeting the king, aren’t you?” Ashinji asked.
Jelena slipped the ring off her thumb and dropped it back inside of her tunic where it came to rest between her breasts. She laid her head against Ashinji’s shoulder. “Yes, I’m worried,” she replied. “Maybe it would be best if he never knows about me.”
“If Silverlock is your father, he has a right to know,” Ashinji said, stroking her curls.
“Silverlock?” Jelena looked at Ashinji questioningly.
“The king’s hair is silver, hence the nickname.”
“Of course,” Jelena whispered. “My birth mother told Claudia that my father called himself… Zin .” She reverted to Soldaran, and said, “‘Zin’ means silver in Siri-dar!”
“Yes. Your cousin Magnes told me about Zin when we first met and I questioned him about you. I didn’t make the connection at the time.” He bent down and hoisted her saddlebag to his shoulder. “C’mon. It’s getting late. You’d better get going.”
He escorted her to the stables and waited with her while one of Nadaka’s stable boys saddled Willow and brought her out. Jelena swung into the saddle with practiced ease and adjusted her stirrup leathers while Ashinji secured her bag. He grasped her hand and placed a kiss-light as a feather-on her palm. His eyes sparkled with desire. “I’ll see you tonight,” he murmured, “and by the Goddess, I’ll not lie next to you all night again as if we were brother and sister!” Jelena drew in a deep breath of the cool morning air, trying to slow her racing heart. The merest thought of Ashinji’s touch sent shivers of delight coursing down her spine, sparking that peculiarly sweet ache between her thighs that only he could soothe.
Ashinji turned and retreated toward the house. As he approached the open doorway, Sadaiyo stepped through. The two brothers paused and exchanged words. Jelena-too far away to hear-frowned with worry as Ashinji pushed past Sadaiyo and disappeared inside. Sadaiyo lingered on the front porch, and as his gaze swept the yard, he caught sight of her. An unpleasant smile twisted his handsome mouth. Jelena’s chest tightened in disgust. Quickly, she gathered up her reins and turned Willow’s head toward the path leading out to the main road.
Sadaiyo’s sharp, sardonic laughter followed after her, stinging her ears as she rode away.
High above, in a sky aglow with the crimson and orange of sunrise, a raven traced lazy circles in the still air. Its bead-like eyes fixed on the road below, watching.
At last, a horse and rider appeared, cantering easily on the smooth, well-tended road. The raven spun on its wingtip and plunged downward, an inky streak against the brightening sky. It landed on the branch of a chestnut tree growing along the grassy verge some distance ahead. There, it waited.
A short time elapsed before the horse passed beneath the tree in a jingling, creaking rush. The bird’s keen eyesight caught a glimpse of the rider’s face-sun-bronzed skin, a melding of human and elven features-topped by a wild mane of dark, coiled hair.
The raven cawed-a harsh, brazen sound-and launched itself skyward. A compulsion to follow spurred it on, and it could not resist. Like a black arrow, it shot after the rider, maintaining a discreet distance so that it would not be noticed. The bird had no instinct left for self-preservation; for many days, it had gone without food, water, or rest. Relentlessly, inevitably, the force that drove it also drained its life energy in the process.
When at last it fell from the sky, another bird sprang aloft and took up the chase.
"There it is, my love. Sendai Castle.” Ashinji pointed toward the west.
Jelena held her hand up to shade her eyes, but could see only what appeared to be a large, forested hill against the glare of the horizon.
“I can’t see the castle…only trees.” She squinted in a vain attempt to discern the outlines of the fortress.
“It sits at the top of the hill. You can just see the highest roofs from here. They’re covered in blue tiles.”
Jelena shook her head, frustrated that she seemed to lack her elven sire’s sharper-than-human eyesight. “Where is the city?” she asked, abandoning the search for the castle.
“You’ll see,” Ashinji replied. He flashed a wicked grin, as if keeping some particularly astounding secret. “Sendai will amaze you, I promise.”
They had been on the road for ten days and had another half-day of travel yet before them. The party had paused to rest at a crossroads. Some of the Kerala guards stood at relaxed, yet watchful, attention, while others took their ease on the soft grass. Amara and her daughters had abandoned their carriage and now rested in the shade of a horse chestnut tree. Just beyond the intersection, the road mounted a small hill. Ashinji and Jelena stood at the summit, gazing ahead toward their destination.
Ashinji slipped his arm around Jelena’s waist, drawing her close in a companionable embrace. His eyes sparkled with anticipation, but she sensed that it had nothing to do with her.
“What are you thinking about, Ashi?” she asked.
“How good it will be to see the Peregrines again. I’ve never been away from my company for so long.” Ashinji had spoken many times of his fondness and respect for the men and women of Peregrine Company. He derived strength from their camaraderie and professionalism, and they made his life as a captain in the king’s army more bearable.
“Will your people be shocked when you return with a wife?” she asked, playfully tweaking his nose.
He grinned and tweaked hers in kind. “Perhaps, but they will be pleased for me as well.”
“Yes, but how do you think they will react to me?” She couldn’t stop the note of worry that crept, unbidden, into her voice.
Ashinji turned her by the shoulders to face him. “I know you are afraid of how you will be treated, and I can’t promise that there won’t be any problems, but Sendai does have a sizable hikui community. After we get settled, I’ll take you to Jokimichi, the district where most of the hikui live. You can finally meet other people who look like you.”
With a small shock, Jelena realized that Ashinji had pointed out to her a startling fact; in all her months of residing among the elves of Kerala, she had not once seen another hikui. Aneko hardly counted; the First Sergeant of the Kerala Guard lived as okui, despite her own admission. Jelena’s heart beat a little faster with excitement. What would the hikui of Sendai be like? Her mind buzzed with questions that would have to wait until she reached the city.
“Ho there, children! Come to admire the view, eh?”
Ashinji and Jelena turned as one to the sound of Lord Sen’s greeting.
“Father, have you got your spyglass with you?” Ashinji inquired. “I’m sure Jelena would like to get a closer look at Sendai Castle.”
“I do, I do,” Sen replied. He unhooked a small rectangular leather case from his belt and removed the spyglass. “This came all the way from Great Arrisae Island. The Islanders make the finest navigational tools in the known world. Your mother-in-law gave it to me.” He extended the exquisite, brass and wood instrument and handed it to Jelena.
“I hear you, Father,” she assured him. “You are asking me, in a roundabout way, to please be careful with it!”
Sen’s whole body shook with laughter. “Clever and beautiful! ‘Course I knew that already. Now, hold the narrow end up to your eye, that’s it! D’you see the castle now?”
“Yes, yes, I can see it!” Jelena exclaimed.
Looking through the spyglass, it seemed as if she had traversed much of the distance to Sendai in the wink of an eye. “This is amazing,” she sighed, fascinated by the power of the spyglass to draw such a distant object closer. She could make out some of the larger details of the structure, such as its overall architecture and relative size to the hill upon which it stood, but they were still too far away to see much more than that. She lowered the glass and reluctantly gave it back to Sen, who carefully returned it to its case.
“Thank you, Father,” she said, smiling.
“We should be at the city gates by sundown,” Ashinji said, glancing into the sky to check the position of the sun, which hung just past zenith.
“We’ll ride straight in and go directly to the castle,” Sen instructed. “I’ll send someone ahead to announce us, but it won’t be you, Jelena. As of this moment, you are no longer employed as my messenger.” He looked Jelena over with narrowed eyes. “Hmmm, I’ve not said anything because we’ve been traveling, but…my dear, it’s time you put away those old clothes.”
“Oh, Father. I…I’m sorry!” Jelena felt her cheeks burn as she realized how shabby she must look compared to the rest of the family. “I’m so used to dressing this way…All my new things are packed away in the baggage. I’m not sure if I can get to them.”
Ashinji took her hand and squeezed. “Father, what Jelena’s wearing right now doesn’t really matter. We’ve been on the road for the last ten days. We can worry about it later.”
“Yes…yes of course you’re right,” Sen agreed. “Come now, you two. It’s time we were on our way.”
The remainder of the day passed easily. The party rode alongside fields of ripe grain and orchards nearing the harvest. The farmland surrounding Sendai was second in productivity only to the disputed Tono Valley. The farmhouses they passed were of varying sizes, but every one, from the smallest cottage to the grandest manor exuded an air of peace and prosperity.
A war could destroy all of this, Jelena thought.
Late afternoon found them passing through the more heavily populated suburbs. The farmland had gradually given way to an open forest of oak and beech, within which the people had chosen to integrate their settlements, rather than clear the land. Here, the houses stood much closer together, each one set in its own garden. Small workshops, storefronts, and inns were interspersed among the dwellings. Signs now marked the lanes and byways branching off from the main road.
Along the way, many folk paused to watch as the large party clattered past. As Ashinji predicted, they reached the main gates of the city proper just as the sun came to rest on the horizon.
Jelena could only stare, speechless with astonishment.
“I told you Sendai would amaze you,” Ashinji said. “Welcome to the City of Trees.”
Never in her wildest imaginings had Jelena considered that an entire city could be built within the confines of a forest. A wide swath had been cleared outside the city’s walls, but not within; from the base of the inner wall, trees marched in unbroken ranks into the city proper.
The walls themselves, though built of massive stone blocks, looked like a natural feature of the land; a dense overgrowth of flowering vines crept up to just below the parapets. A formidable, double-towered stone gatehouse guarded the main entrance, and the shadow cast by the artificial cliff face spread premature nightfall over a large section of the town below. As they drew closer, Jelena got a better look at the walls’ luxuriant drapery of vegetation.
Each vine sported fragrant clusters of white flowers amid rows of brutal thorns, easily as long as her index finger. She shuddered at the thought of what that punishing curtain would do to anyone who tried to scale it.
They passed beneath the gatehouse and rode into the city itself, entering via a broad, gravel-bedded avenue lined with a bewildering assortment of shops, inns, and taverns. Many of the buildings were constructed around the boles of the trees, incorporating them into the design of the structure. Ladder-like staircases snaked up the trunks of many of the larger trees, leading to structures set on platforms among the spreading branches.
The street teemed with people, all intent on the business of life. In shop windows, above doorways, and along the streets, lanterns flared to life, banishing the dusk. Other lights, twinkling like stars overhead, hung from boughs, balconies, and the upcurved ends of roof gutters.
As in the rural district and suburbs, the city exuded an aura of prosperity, but despite the appearance of normalcy, Jelena could sense a subtle undercurrent of tension floating in the air, like the smell of far-off corruption. She studied individual faces among the throng and found on every one the unmistakable marks of worry.
The elves of Sendai were afraid.
She pointed out her observation to Ashinji.
“The people know that war with the Soldarans is coming,” he replied, tight-lipped. “The population of the Empire is easily ten times that of Alasiri, with an Imperial Army at least triple in number to our fighting forces. The odds are very much against us. The people know it, the king and his council know it, yet we have no choice but to try to defend ourselves. If we don’t stop the invasion, the humans will overrun all of Alasiri and take our land for their own in order to relieve the great pressure of their growing population. It would surely mean death or slavery for most of us.”
Jelena shivered with dread. She knew from firsthand experience how humans, or more specifically, how Soldarans felt about elves, and she had no doubt of the truth of Ashinji’s words. A conquered Alasiri would be dealt with harshly, its lands depopulated with brutal efficiency and quickly resettled by landless Soldarans eager for homesteads of their own.
Jelena tried to imagine such a catastrophe and couldn’t. Her mind would not, could not form those images of horror and despair, simply because she had never experienced death and destruction on such a massive scale. She prayed that she never would.
Ashinji had fallen silent, and the set of his jaw told Jelena that he no longer felt like talking, so she turned her attention to the castle ahead.
The great fortress of Sendai Castle sat atop a hill rising from the heart of the city, dominating the view from all quarters. The broad road upon which they approached led to the edge of a vast, gravel-covered parade ground laid out beneath the castle walls.
The architecture of the castle closely resembled that of Kerala, except on a much grander scale, and rendered almost entirely of whitewashed stone instead of wood. The red light of the dying sun painted the walls a bloody crimson.
A mounted figure emerged from the shadows beneath the main gate and approached at a trot. Jelena grinned as the figure resolved itself into Aneko. As second in command of Kerala’s guard, she had gone ahead to announce the arrival of the king’s Commanding General.
Aneko pulled up and saluted briskly. “My lord, the Steward of Sendai Castle is pleased to send you his greetings and requests that you proceed to the outer ward where he awaits your arrival.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. You may return to the line,” Sen replied. “Sadaiyo! Ashinji! By me.”
Ashinji flashed a quick smile toward Jelena as he moved his horse forward to position himself at his father’s left hand. Sadaiyo took his place at the right. He looked every bit the nobleman in his brightly colored silks and conspicuous jewelry while Ashinji could have easily passed as his father’s Captain of the Guard, were it not for the fact that he rode at Sen’s left hand.
Jelena now found herself riding beside Misune, who studiously ignored her. She did not mind; she wouldn’t have known what to say even if her sister-in-law had deigned to speak.
Lord Sen and his entourage passed through the castle gates into the outer ward. There, they were met by the most diminutive man, human or elf, that Jelena had ever seen. He stood no more than the height of a well-grown human child of six or seven years. The air of importance with which he carried himself, and the large gold chain of office that hung about his neck told her that this must be the Steward of Sendai Castle.
“Ah, ah, so good to see you again, Lord Sen!” the little man exclaimed in a high-pitched voice.
“And you, Karogi. It has been awhile,” Sen replied warmly.
“The king sends his greetings and has charged me personally with seeing to the comfort of you and your family. Your guards will be shown to the barracks and the servants that you don’t require right away can go directly to the staff hall.
“Lu! Attend!” A young boy, dressed in the livery of a page, sprang forward. “Take Lord Sen’s civilian staff to the hall. Get moving, boy! Ajisai, show Lord Sen’s guards to the barracks and see that the horses are taken care of.” A lanky youth stepped forward and gestured to Gendan, indicating that he and the rest of the guards should follow him.
Jelena ferociously suppressed an urge to laugh. The sight of this tiny man snapping orders in his squeaky voice struck her as comical, but she had no doubts as to the enormous power he wielded within the hierarchy of Sendai’s vast staff.
He deserves my respect, she chided herself, not my derision.
Sen dismounted, Sadaiyo and Ashinji following suit. Ashinji then came to steady Willow’s head while Jelena slid from the saddle. Misune flung herself down from her cranky stallion and strode boldly up beside her husband to pose, hand resting on her sword hilt, like the haughty warrior princess she fancied herself to be. Jelena would have preferred to remain in the background, but Ashinji led her forward with gentle insistence. Sen walked back to the carriage and escorted Amara and the Sakehera daughters forward.
“Lady Amara, this is a wonderful surprise! So good to see you! My, my, your daughters have all blossomed into such lovely young ladies. My lord, I remember your eldest son, Lord Sadaiyo,” the Steward bobbed as he spoke, “and of course Lord Ashinji, welcome back, my lord! Peregrine Company will be overjoyed to have its captain returned to it, but I do not know this beautiful and formidable lady.” Karogi proffered a courtly bow to Misune.
“This is my Heir’s new wife, the Lady Misune Sakehera,” Sen replied with a touch of pride in his voice.
Karogi bowed again. “My congratulations to you both,” he piped. He then turned to Ashinji after flicking the barest glance at Jelena. “My lord, will your servant be sharing your quarters, or will she need a cot in the staff hall?”
Misune snickered. Jelena’s cheeks ignited.
“Jelena is not my servant,” Ashinji said. His eyes had gone hard and cold.
Jelena laid a hand on his arm and squeezed. “Ashi, it is an honest mistake,” she spoke very softly, so that only he could hear. She felt no anger, only resignation and understanding. A hikui girl dressed in simple cotton and leather-of course this little man had mistaken her for Ashinji’s servant.
“Hmmm, uh, my youngest son has also married recently. This is my other daughter-in-law, Jelena,” Sen explained hastily. Jelena glanced over at Sadaiyo and cringed at the smirk on his face. The sight of his enjoyment of her humiliation made her burn with renewed hatred.
Karogi cast a dubious eye over Jelena, but he was a consummate courtier, and swiftly adjusted his attitude. “A thousand apologies to you, my lady, and to you, Lord Ashinji. Please forgive my stupid blunder. It seems, then, that congratulations are in order for you as well, my lord. Am I to assume that you and your new bride will be needing accommodations within the keep itself, rather than the barracks?”
“Yes,” Ashinji replied curtly.
“Very good, my lords, my ladies, please come with me, then.”
They followed the tiny steward-who walked far more quickly than Jelena would have guessed possible-across the spacious outer ward and through a second set of gates that pierced the inner walls of the castle. After traversing the smaller inner ward and a flight of wide, shallow stone stairs, they reached the massive double doors of the keep itself. A pair of guards snapped to attention as they approached.
The doors to the keep stood open. Karogi swept through, waving perfunctorily to the guards. As Jelena passed over the threshold, she looked about her with awe. Even the twins remained silent and wide-eyed.
This is the biggest building I’ve ever seen, she thought.
The steward led them across a wide entrance hall toward a broad staircase. The expansive space flickered with shadows cast by the flames of dozens of brass lamps-many fashioned in the shapes of fishes, roosters, lions, and other animals-hanging from chains attached to the ceiling. Stone columns spaced at regular intervals supported the roof overhead; finely woven, well-padded matting covered the stone floors.
There seemed to be no one else about, not even servants. Jelena realized that most of the people of the household would be involved in the evening meal, either eating it, or serving it.
“Lord Sen, the king has requested that when you have gotten your family settled, that you attend him in his private study. He has several matters of importance that he needs to discuss with you,” Karogi said as he led the way up the stairs. They climbed two flights and passed down a long corridor into one of the castle’s many towers. “Your lodgings,” Karogi announced as he threw open a door.
The tower was, in fact, a multistory apartment, with a common room at the base and several bedchambers on the floors above. It had a private entrance from the yard below, and the biggest and most luxurious of the several bathhouses set aside for guests stood directly across the yard.
“Your baggage is on its way up, my lord,” the steward assured Sen. “The lamps are lit, and there is wine, beer, and fruit juice for the children. I shall send servants to assist you straightaway.”
“My thanks, Karogi,” Sen replied. The steward bowed, and, quick as a cat, he departed.
The twins immediately clamored for permission to go find a bedchamber for themselves and Lani.
“Yes, yes, girls. Go ahead.” Amara wearily waved towards the staircase leading to the upper floors.
“Come on, Mariso, Jena,” Lani called. She shepherded the chattering girls upward, admonishing them to be careful and not to run.
“Where do they get all of that energy?” Sen muttered. Looking around, he spotted a sideboard upon which stood a couple of pitchers, a carafe, and an assortment of glasses and cups. He poured a glass of wine and handed it to Amara. Helping himself to a cup of beer, he then claimed the most comfortable chair in the room for himself and sat down with a grateful sigh. Amara settled on a couch set before the unlit fireplace.
“I’m sorry about what happened earlier, Jelena. Please forgive me.” Sen said. “I should have introduced you properly, as you deserve. Rest assured that it won’t happen again.” He raised his cup to his lips and took a long, deep swallow.
“If she insists on dressing like a servant, no one should be surprised that she’s treated like one,” Sadaiyo commented. He had also helped himself to the wine; he and Misune now sat on a smaller couch near the window, sharing the cup between them.
“I dress this way because it is comfortable,” Jelena replied, her voice low and hard. Sadaiyo sneered. She turned her back on him and went to pour a glass of wine for herself and a cup of beer for Ashinji. She briefly entertained the idea of throwing the pitcher at Sadaiyo’s head.
No. Why waste good beer on such filth?
“Comfortable though it may be, it is not suitable garb in which to go before the royal court,” Amara gently pointed out. “I think the new green outfit I gave you as a wedding gift should do nicely.”
“Yes, Mother. I’ll be sure to unpack it first thing,” Jelena replied.
A knock at the door signaled the arrival of the baggage, along with several servants bearing trays. With the efficiency of experience, the servers soon had a hearty meal laid out-turtle soup, cold poached fish, a platter of steamed vegetables, wheat cakes fried to a crisp, golden brown, several loaves of bread, and a small wheel of hard yellow cheese. Apples and berry tarts made up dessert.
The delicious aromas of the food set Jelena’s stomach to rumbling; however, decorum dictated that she, along with the rest of the family, must wait until Sen and Amara had taken what they wanted before serving themselves.
The food tasted as good as it looked. As they ate, Sen spoke. “I expect the king’ll have a lot to discuss with me, so most likely, it’ll be a late night,” he said between mouthfuls. “Prince Raidan will probably be there, too. Sadaiyo and Ashinji, you’ll accompany me, of course, though I doubt you’ll need to stay the whole evening.”
“The king will be calling the war council soon, don’t you think, Father?” Ashinji asked.
“Yes, when all of the lords entitled to sit in council have arrived, he will, but I don’t know who all is here yet. Jelena, I’ll need your ring. I intend to show it to the king this very night.”
“Yes, of course, thank you, Father!” With eagerness born of hope, Jelena pulled the ring out from its hiding place beneath her tunic and slipped the chain over her head. She presented the ring to Sen and returned to her seat on a floor cushion next to Ashinji.
Sen held the ring up before his face, where it swung gently, back and forth, like a fortune teller’s pendulum. Pensively, he examined the gleaming white band of metal for a few heartbeats, then closed his fist around it and shifted his gaze to Jelena.
“Jelena,” he began, “You know family means everything to us and-right or wrong-a person with no family can’t expect to rise very far in elven society.” He paused to look at Amara, who nodded in agreement. “When you married my son,” he continued, “you became a member of the House of Sakehera which, though no small thing, is not the same as knowing the house from which you came.”
As if sensing her anxiety, Sen smiled in reassurance. “It’s an understatement to say that your life has changed since you first came to us,” he said, “but it will be nothing compared to what could happen if your true father embraces you as his own. Are you ready to face that?”
“I’m ready for whatever happens, Father,” Jelena replied, but her bold words rang hollow in her own ears. In truth, she didn’t know which she dreaded most-acceptance or rejection.
“Are you implying, Father, that she could be the daughter of a noble house?” Sadaiyo asked, eyebrows raised. “That’s impossible! What self-respecting elf of good family would mate with a human? Her mother could have stolen that ring, or found it in a field somewhere. A marchland farm boy’s by-blow… Now that I could believe!” Misune laughed at her husband’s cruel words, her golden, lioness eyes flashing with mean-spirited amusement.
“Shut up, Sadaiyo!” Ashinji growled, rising halfway from his seat, hands knotted into fists. Jelena reached out to restrain him.
“What’s wrong, Little Brother? Can’t stand to hear the truth about your precious little mongrel?” Sadaiyo retorted, rising to his feet in anticipation.
“That’s enough!” Amara cried. Before anyone could react, she sprang from the couch and launched herself at her eldest son. Planting her hands against his chest, she shoved Sadaiyo hard. He fell backward into Misune’s arms where he lay, staring up in shock at his mother’s face. Amara stood over him, rigid with fury. “Sadaiyo, you have no idea who and what this girl is, none at all!” She spat her words like slingshot bullets.
Sadaiyo flinched as if struck, and all the color drained from his face. He swallowed hard and bowed his head. Misune wisely followed suit. Jelena had never seen Amara so angry nor Sadaiyo so cowed, and she found the vehemence of her mother-in-law’s outburst disturbing.
What does she mean, who…and what…I am? Is she talking about my father…or something else?
“You will never again speak to Jelena in so disrespectful a manner. Need I remind you that you insult your father and me each time you insult her? She is our daughter-in-law now, and we were the ones who gave our consent to her joining our family.”
“Please forgive me, Mother,” Sadaiyo murmured, his proud head still bent in submission.
“Don’t ask me for forgiveness. I’m not the one to give it to you!” Amara retorted. Sadaiyo opened his mouth as if to reply, then apparently thought better of it and remained silent.
“Your mother is right.” Sen spoke up, his own voice razor sharp. “Like it or not, you are all family, my family, and by the One, you will behave like it! Things are going to be very different soon, you mark my words!”
No one moved or spoke for several heartbeats.
Sen finally broke the tense silence.
“We’re all tired and filthy from the road, but that can’t be helped. The king has commanded my presence, so I must go. You two, c’mon.” He jabbed an index finger at Sadaiyo and Ashinji, then gestured toward the door.
With a soft “I love you” whispered into her ear, Ashinji kissed Jelena on the lips and followed his father and brother out of the apartment. Without saying a word, Misune fled up the stairs, leaving Jelena and Amara alone in the sitting room.
Jelena’s mind whirled with unvoiced questions.
You have no idea who and what this girl is…
“Mother, what did you mean…what you said to Sadaiyo just now?” she asked.
Amara returned to the couch and settled down with a weary sigh. She patted the cushion next to her. “Come sit by me, child,” she commanded. She held out her hands so Jelena could see the intricate designs tattooed on both palms. “These designs are not meant as mere ornamentation,” she explained.
Jelena nodded in understanding. “I always thought they must have some higher meaning.”
“For those with the knowledge to read them, they are sigils-magical symbols.”
“Of what, Mother?”
Amara stared at her hands for a moment before folding them in her lap. “Jelena, I’ve a confession to make. It concerns your blue fire. When you first came to me for help, I told you I was unsure of its exact nature, but in truth, I’ve known all along what it is.”
Jelena had always suspected Amara knew more about the mysterious and frightening blue energy than she admitted to, but to hear her mother-in-law confirm her suspicion still disturbed her. The look of firm resolve mingled with profound sadness on Amara’s face disturbed her even more.
“I had to keep the full truth from you until now, Jelena, because I did not want to frighten you, but things are moving far too swiftly. I’m just so sorry that you will have this burden to carry along with everything else you’ll have to deal with.”
“Whatever burdens I have to carry, I’ll have Ashinji to help me. As long as he’s by my side, I won’t be afraid,” Jelena replied, trying to sound as brave as she could, but realizing that Amara saw through her false courage.
“There’s no shame in being afraid, Jelena. You are young, but I have faith in you. I believe you possess great strength-far more than you know-and you are going to need every bit it of it in the end. Now, listen carefully…”
Later that night, Jelena lay awake in bed, awaiting Ashinji’s return and trying to make sense of Amara’s revelation. She turned it over and over in her mind, but from every angle, it seemed so unbelievable. Jelena had the utmost respect for Amara’s powers as a mage, and she felt certain that every one of her mother-in-law’s fellows in this mysterious Kirian Society were equally as Talented, but…
Surely they’ve made a mistake! How can I possibly be this Key they’ve been awaiting? Shouldn’t the one chosen to carry such powerful magic be someone with the strength to control it?
Tomorrow, Amara had promised to present her to the other members of the Kirian Society who lived in the capital, and then her training would begin in earnest.
But what exactly am I being trained for?
That was the one question Amara had refused to answer, saying only that, in time, Jelena would understand everything.
Raidan Onjara, Lord of Meizi, Crown Prince of Alasiri, was a troubled man.
The cause of his disquiet lay on the desk before him, scribbled in a thin, spidery hand on two sheets of rumpled brown paper.
Raidan re-read the report for the third time.
Your Highness, I send you greetings.
As an itinerant healer here in the borderlands , I have had the occasion to see many kinds of illnesses among our people, who, as you know, live in close proximity to human settlements. The folk here are largely of mixed blood, and they contract many of the same sicknesses that strike humans; however, their elven blood bestows upon them a certain resistance to diseases that would otherwise fell a human.
Recently, I paid a visit to the farm of an okui family by the name of Lwenda. There, I saw something most peculiar and troubling. At the time of my first visit, only the father had fallen ill. According to his wife, he had complained first of a headache and sore throat. Soon afterward, he became feverish, and so weak he could not stand. Three days later, he developed hard swellings in his neck, armpits, and groin.
When I examined him, I found the swellings to be firm, inflamed, and discolored. The patient’s wife and children were, quite naturally, terrified that he might die. I questioned the wife closely about her husband’s contacts with any humans that lived in the area. She readily admitted that both she and her husband had frequent dealings with the human folk of a certain village just across the border, as well as several human traders who traveled the area calling upon all of the farms thereabouts-human, hikui, and okui.
She then told me a troubling tale of a sickness spreading rapidly among the humans, killing many of them. They called it the ‘black death’, because it apparently turns a human victim’s skin a mottled purple-black just before the unfortunate wretch meets a rather messy and painful end.
In my readings, I have come across many references to the ‘black death’, so I am familiar with the symptom. Heretofore, it has been commonly believed that we elves could not contract this disease. Yet, there I stood over the sickbed of an elf, looking at a man with the unmistakable signs of the ‘black death’! I did what I could for the man, and tried to reassure his family, but I did not have much faith in my own mind that anything I did would make a difference. Sadly, I was correct.
Three days later, the youngest child, a girl, fetched me back out to the farm. Her father was dead, and now, her mother and all the rest of her siblings were ill. By the whim of the Goddess, this one child had been spared the sickness but not the agony of having to watch her entire family die, for die they did, despite everything I tried to do to prevent it.
Your Highness, as Court Physician and a learned colleague, I knew you would wish to be informed of this new and frightening ability of the human plague to attack our people. I fear for the health of the Tono garrison, as well as all of Lady Odata’s people, for they are our first line of defense against any invasion mounted by the Soldarans. Goddess help us if our forces down here, small as they are, should be further reduced by the ravages of disease.
Your Obedient Servant and Colleague,
Kujaku Remei
Raidan sighed wearily and leaned back into his padded chair. He rested his chin upon steepled fingers and pondered the implications of the information contained within Remei’s report. As a trained doctor, Raidan had studied most of the medical texts written by elven physicians, as well as a few written by human doctors. He knew of the ‘black death’-an ancient scourge of humankind-but only as a medical curiosity, something an elven healer would study purely for the sake of knowledge. No elf had ever contracted the disease…until now.
Something has changed , the prince thought, some fundamental aspect of the disease itself, to allow it to attack elves now, as well as humans.
A controversial theory, put forth by the human physician Nazarius, sprang to Raidan’s mind. The theory proposed that some diseases were caused by a particle or essence that entered the body of a healthy person and then somehow disrupted its natural function. This mysterious essence could pass-by as yet unknown means-from one person to another, causing illness in some while sparing others.
Prince Raidan believed in Nazarius’ theory. The essence that caused the ‘black death’ in humans had somehow been altered, but how?
Could the Soldarans have done this deliberately as a first assault in order to weaken our troops guarding the Tono Pass? The prince shook his head. Impossible. The Soldarans have little real magic and this is certainly beyond their science. More importantly, though, is the question of how will we protect ourselves against it. Remei is quite right to be concerned about the health of the fighting forces stationed in and around Tono Castle.
Sweeping the papers up into his hands, Raidan went to see his brother the king.
The prince’s apartments lay at the opposite end of the main keep from those of the king’s. He had a fair distance to walk, but walking had never bothered him. Most of the castle’s inhabitants were still at their dinners; the few people Raidan encountered along the near silent corridors, servants all, bowed politely as he passed. His footfalls made little sound on the finely woven reed mats covering the stone floors.
His mind remained so preoccupied with the disturbing contents of the report crinkled in his hand that he arrived outside the king’s quarters with no conscious memory of the journey.
The two soldiers of the King’s Guard standing at either side of the painted double wooden doors snapped to attention. Ignoring them, Raidan pushed open the left door and strode through.
He crossed a large antechamber-dimly lit by a few small brass lamps-to stand before a smaller set of doors that opened into the inner sanctum of his brother’s private apartments.
A second pair of soldiers, also elite King’s Guard, stood watch over the finely carved wooden panels. They, too, came to attention at Raidan’s arrival, but this time, he did not continue forward.
Not even the Crown Prince could enter the king’s private quarters without permission.
“Tell the king I’m here,” Raidan commanded.
“Yes, your Highness,” the taller of the two guards responded. He disappeared through the portals while his partner assumed the traditional defensive stance-hand on sword hilt, spear extended over the doorway in a crosswise block.
Raidan understood their duty well; each member of the King’s Guard would defend the king with his or her life against all attackers, even should those attackers be members of the royal family.
He waited, as he knew he must, albeit impatiently.
The first guard returned. “The king will see you now, your Highness,” he announced. Then, in unison, he and his partner stepped to either side of the doors and inclined their spears away from the prince.
Raidan entered and made his way to his brother’s study. He found the king seated at his writing table, flipping through a stack of papers. The king looked up, head canted slightly to one side; for an instant, Raidan saw, not his brother sitting there, but their father.
Keizo Onjara, also known as Silverlock, King of Alasiri, pursed his lips in a frown. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You look as though your wife just threw you out.”
Raidan shook his head. “If only it was so simple,” he replied in a heavy voice. He sank onto a low couch opposite the king’s desk and brandished Remei’s report. “I’ve just received this from a traveling doctor down in Tono. It’s not good.” He offered the papers to Keizo. The king took them and began to read.
When he’d finished, the king laid the papers down beside the others stacked on the desktop and looked at his brother. “What do you advise?”
“At present, I have no advice, other than to warn Lady Odata, though I’m sure she is well aware of the situation.” Raidan ran a hand through his sable hair. “If this plague takes hold amongst the troops of her garrison, Tono will lie defenseless, leaving the way open for the Soldarans to sweep clear through to Sendai.”
“Which is why we must move the bulk of our armies into the Tono Valley as soon as possible,” Keizo said. He tapped the pile of reports before him with a well-manicured forefinger. “Intelligence has been coming in from as far south as Darguinia. Empress Constantia has begun a full-scale mobilization of her armies. It appears as if she intends to send at least two divisions north to retake Tono.”
“We both know her ambitions are more far-reaching than just retaking Tono,” Raidan replied. “The Soldaran homeland is bursting at the seams. The humans breed like field mice and they need more land. They look north to Alasiri and they see our fields and orchards, and all of the open land we have, and they covet it. The empress would happily slaughter us all in order to re-settle her excess population in our territory.”
Keizo rose from his chair and paced about the small room, filling its confines with his nervous energy. Raidan followed his brother’s movements with his eyes, holding his body still, betraying none of the tension he himself felt.
Abruptly, Keizo stopped pacing. He closed his eyes and pressed his hand to his forehead, then spoke. “I estimate that we have until the end of next spring to prepare. That gives us almost eleven months. Constantia won’t risk coming out until then. She’s not nearly ready yet, and besides, the Tono Pass will be blocked with snow until the end of Daira at least. Then, there’s the late season rains. If she marches on us before Kishan’s over, she risks her forces getting bogged down in mud.” Keizo shook his head. “No. She won’t march until early Nobe, I’m sure of it, and we must be ready to meet her. As you pointed out, if we don’t stop her at the Tono Valley, all is lost.”
Raidan opened his mouth to reply when a soft knock at the door interrupted him.
“Come!” the king called out.
One of the guards stepped into the room and offered a crisp salute. “Your Majesty, General Sakehera awaits your pleasure,” he announced.
Keizo’s face broke into a smile. “Send him in.” The guard saluted and withdrew.
“Now that Sakehera is here, we can plan in earnest,” Raidan said. The prince had a keen regard for the gruffly affable Lord of Kerala, stretching back many years to the time when he, Keizo, and Sakehera were just boys. Young Sen had spent several years fostering at the court of their father, Keizo the Elder, where he had gained a secure place for himself as Keizo the Younger’s favorite companion. Even then, he had often demonstrated a cunning intelligence that seemed at odds with his placid exterior. Raidan considered him one of the best minds in the realm.
A good man to have on one’s side, if the need should ever arise, Raidan thought.
The door swung open and Sen Sakehera strode briskly in, trailed by two younger men. All three bowed in unison. “Your Majesty,” Sakehera said.
“My friend! It’s been too long! Come, your king gives you permission to embrace him!” Keizo held out his arms and the two men embraced with unabashed pleasure. “You look exhausted,” the king observed.
Sen flashed a rueful smile. “We’ve just arrived. Haven’t even had time to knock the dust from our boots.” He indicated the two young men behind him with a wave. “I’ve brought my sons.”
“Yes, I see,” Keizo nodded. “Captain Sakehera, you have been away from my service for quite some time now. Your company-the Peregrines, I believe-will be pleased to have you back.”
“I sincerely hope so, Your Majesty,” the younger of Sen’s sons answered politely.
Raidan recognized Ashinji Sakehera and knew him to be a captain in the army, stationed in Sendai; his older brother Sadaiyo, Sen’s Heir, he did not know.
“Sakehera, your son Ashinji has a fine reputation within the service,” Raidan said. “He is a young man with a very bright future.” Sen beamed and laid a hand on the shoulder of his second son, a simple, yet telling gesture.
Skilled at both the art of observation and the science of deduction, Raidan surreptitiously studied Sen and his two sons. A slight downturn of the mouth, the appearance of a tiny crease between the eyes; the details were so subtle that even Raidan might have missed them had he not been specifically alert. Sadaiyo Sakehera hid his emotions well, but Raidan could still read them.
Jealousy was a terrible, corrosive force and when it stood between two brothers, it would surely destroy one or both of them. Raidan could only guess at the reasons for Sadaiyo Sakehera’s hatred of his younger brother, but one factor might be favoritism.
Sen had made it quite clear, with only a single gesture, which of his sons he loved best, and it was not his Heir.
Keizo sat at his desk and indicated with a wave of his hand that Sen should sit as well. The Lord of Kerala settled down on a cushioned stool with a grateful sigh. His sons moved to stand behind him.
The king regarded his old friend thoughtfully, then spoke. “I’ve tried to keep you as current as possible on the situation, but here is the latest,” he began. “The Soldarans are preparing for an attack, but they won’t be ready for nearly a year. That much you already know. We’ve just learned that there is an outbreak of a deadly disease known as ‘black death’ sweeping through the human population just over the Tono frontier.”
“But this is good!” Sen exclaimed. “This ‘black death’ will pose a serious danger to the empress’s troops. It could do half our work for us, if we’re lucky.”
“I would agree, except that it seems this plague can now attack elvenkind as well as humans. Raidan has received a report from a local doctor working in Tono. He personally tended an entire okui family that had fallen ill, and he fears that they were only the beginning.”
Sen shook his head, clearly troubled by this disturbing new development. “I had problems with human bandits last spring, raiding farms on my southern border,” he said. “There were reports about a strange sickness afflicting some of the folk who’d suffered raids. I figured the bandits had to be the source, though there’d never been any other times I could remember where elves came down with a human sickness. I sent my son Ashinji to investigate. He did find and destroy a gang of raiders but whether any of them carried the illness…” Sen shrugged.
“Did any more folk fall ill after your son wiped out the bandit gang?” Raidan asked.
“Not to my knowledge,” Sen replied. His grey-green eyes darted from side to side, then locked onto the king’s face. “Great Goddess!” he exclaimed. “I’ve just had a thought, and it’s not a pleasant one.”
When Sen failed to elaborate, the king prompted him. “Yes, what is it?”
“If I was the empress, I’d first send a smaller, more mobile force early on, to the northeast, before the first thaw.”
“That would mean…” Raidan began, but Keizo finished his sentence.
“Sending part of our army back to Kerala, further worsening the odds when the major offensive is launched against Tono. We are already outnumbered at least three to one. If we are forced to defend ourselves on two fronts…”
“I don’t think Constantia wants to spend the resources to keep two separate armies in the field at the same time,” Raidan interjected. “Her ultimate goal is the conquest of Alasiri. In order to accomplish this, she must take Sendai. She can’t come straight at us from Darguinia because she won’t be able to get an army through the Shikhat Fens. The surest way to open a road to the capital is by taking the Tono Valley.
“I agree with you, Brother,” Keizo said, “but I also believe that she’ll send a diversionary force into Kerala, regardless.”
As the lengthy discussion progressed, Raidan continued his observation of Sen’s two sons. Sadaiyo, clearly annoyed at having to stand, struggled to hide his displeasure. His arrogant face and proud bearing spoke of one used to getting his way in all things. His garments, though dusty and rumpled from travel, were rich and fashionably cut.
In contrast, Ashinji wore the smooth, expressionless visage of a professional soldier, trained to stand for long stretches of time. Despite his high station, he had chosen to wear the plain, serviceable clothing of a cavalry officer. Only his eyes betrayed his interest in the tactical discussion; Raidan could sense a keen mind behind the blank face.
The prince felt a momentary pang of pity for Sen Sakehera. The general had always been shrewd, competent, and completely devoid of arrogance. Raidan understood now why Sen loved his younger son with such tender devotion and his Heir, perhaps, not at all.
No good can possibly come of it, Raidan decided.
“Ai, Goddess, I am tired,” Sen grumbled. “I need a hot soak and a good night’s sleep to clear the cobwebs from my head. I’ll be of far more use to you tomorrow, Majesty.”
“Please forgive me, old friend,” Keizo apologized. “I am keeping you from your much needed rest.” He glanced at Sen’s sons. “I’m sure all of you will be happy to seek your beds.”
“There is one last thing I want to discuss with you before we go,” Sen said. The king nodded. “Last spring, I took a young girl into my employ…a hikui refugee, fled from her home in Amsara, the Soldaran duchy across my southern border.”
Raidan sensed an immediate, profound change in the attitudes of both younger Sakeheras. They stood like two hounds, alert and quivering, one with hostility, the other with apprehension.
“From Amsara, you say?” Keizo leaned forward with interest. “What about this girl?”
“A few weeks ago, she saved my life during a hunting accident. If it hadn’t been for her sharp-shooting, I would have been gutted on the tusks of a wild boar.” Sen chuckled. “I’m still amazed by it. A single arrow, right through the eye! Anyway, as a reward for saving my sorry backside, I promised to present her to you.” Abruptly, Sen’s cheerful expression turned serious. “Majesty, she is seeking information on the identity of her sire.”
“Who is an elf, I presume?” Keizo asked.
“Yes.” Sen gazed intently at the king. “She has a signet ring which she claims the man who fathered her gave to her human mother, so she would know that she came from a noble elven house.” Sen paused.
Raidan stared at his brother. Keizo now sat rigidly upright in his chair, his fingers clenched and bone-white upon the armrests. “Go on,” the king said slowly.
“I have the ring with me. I promised Jelena that I’d show it to you. I believe that you may be able to shed some light on…on her possible identity.”
“Show me the ring now,” the king commanded, holding out his hand.
Without another word, Sen reached into a small pouch at his belt and withdrew an object, which he dropped onto Keizo’s open palm.
The king stared at the ring in his hand for several heartbeats, then closed it up in his fist. He leaned back in his chair and gazed past Sen’s head, his eyes unfocused, as if lost in a memory.
Raidan stared at the king in astonishment. He recognized the ring immediately as his brother’s, made especially for Keizo and presented to him on the day he had achieved his majority. Supposedly, Keizo had lost it many years ago. Raidan wore a similar ring, in keeping with the tradition of all Onjara princes. Both rings were non-magical copies of the White Griffin Ring of State that now encircled the third finger of Keizo’s right hand.
How, by the One Great Goddess, did my brother’s ring fall into the hands of a half-human girl?
“You say the girl’s name is Ja…”
“Jelena, Majesty. A popular Soldaran name for girls, apparently. She soon proved herself a good worker and became a valuable member of my household. We all became quite fond of her, especially my son Ashinji. So fond in fact, that he married her!”
Keizo focused on Ashinji, his expression unreadable. “Your son is married to this girl? You freely gave your permission?” he asked.
“Yes, Majesty, I did. She had no family to speak for her…so there was no one else I needed to consult.” Sen’s eyes narrowed; his voice remained meticulously neutral.
A disturbing suspicion nibbled at the edges of Raidan’s thoughts. He cast his mind backward in time. A little over eighteen years ago, just before the tragic accident that had set him on the throne, Keizo had returned from a journey in the far eastern reaches of Alasiri, several weeks late and with a poorly mending broken leg. It had taken all of the skills of the court physician and the magical abilities of a well-known mage to restore his brother’s leg to full function. Keizo had always insisted an elderly farmer and his wife had rescued him after he had taken a nasty tumble from his horse.
Raidan had always known his brother concealed important details about what had really happened; long ago, the prince had suppressed most of his Talent in favor of scientific training, but he still retained the ability to Truthread. Despite knowing of his brother’s deliberate deception, Raidan had never pressed Keizo on it. He had decided to respect his brother’s privacy.
Now, it seemed that the truth might, at long last, be revealed.
“Sen, my old friend, I want you to bring the girl to me tonight… now, in fact.”
“Now, Majesty? I…I think she’s probably sleeping…”
“That doesn’t matter. Wake her if you have to.” Keizo’s voice held the unmistakable tone of a command.
“Yes…of course.” Sen stood and bowed, his sons following suit. All three men then left the room.
Raidan sat and stared at the side of Keizo’s face for several heartbeats. Finally, he summoned the voice to speak.
“This girl, Brother…who is she? I need to know the truth!”
“So do I, Brother,” the king replied.
Keizo tightened his hand around the ring. “I’ve never told anyone the entire story of what happened to me during those weeks I went missing, just before I became king. There was a girl…a human girl. She saved my life. Let me show you her face.”
Raidan opened his mind and allowed Keizo to share the image-a face, unmistakably human, smiling and dark-eyed. Even now, the prince felt the potent emotions the memory awakened in his brother.
“You loved this human, Zin?” Raidan asked.
“Yes. I would have died, if not for her.”
“A human girl…”
“Is it so hard to believe?” Keizo snapped. “We elves and humans are not that different, not really! Yes, I loved her and she loved me, but in the end, I had to leave her. I gave her my prince’s ring as a token of my love. I never considered the possibility…” The king paused, then whispered, “Brother…I think Sakehera’s hikui stray might be mine.”
With those words, the very foundations upon which Raidan had built and ordered his life crumbled and blew away like dust upon the wind. A cloud of anger threatened to overwhelm his mind, but he quickly suppressed it.
I can’t let Keizo know how his confession has affected me. There’s too much at stake!
Raidan rose to his feet. “If this hikui girl is yours, Brother, you must handle the matter with the utmost care. The last thing Alasiri needs right now is a scandal.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Keizo glared at Raidan with challenging eyes. “But if she is my child, I’ll not turn my back on her.”
“I think it’s time for me to leave you alone. When you’ve finished interviewing the girl, send for me.” Raidan turned on his heel and stalked from the room.
Keizo has fathered a child!
The words buzzed through Raidan’s brain like a swarm of angry hornets as he strode down the deserted, night-silent corridors of the castle. The implications were enormous and far-reaching.
What if my brother decides to acknowledge this girl? Will he attempt to set her above me and my sons?
That must never be allowed.
I’ll kill her myself if it comes down to that. I’ll not let some bastard hikui rob me and mine of what is rightfully ours!
Keizo the Younger had ascended the throne of Alasiri only after a freak accident had claimed the life of King Okame-Raidan and Keizo’s eldest brother-and his entire family. Keizo had yet to marry; in fact, he had shown total disinterest in the idea, and his longtime companion, Lady Sonoe, had so far produced no children.
As long as his brother remained unmarried and childless, Raidan and his sons were Keizo’s official Heirs.
It won’t matter if this girl is Keizo’s offspring. She’s a half-blood, and illegitimate. By law, she can’t be the Heir, unless…
Keizo could officially recognize and legitimize her, but in order to name her as Heir, he would have to change the law of the land. The King’s Council would surely fight such an action, and in the end, Raidan doubted the elven people would accept a hikui as their future sovereign.
Let Keizo recognize this girl as his daughter, let him bestow upon her every rank and privilege of an Onjara princess. She can be no threat to me, unless she foolishly dares to set herself up as one. And if she does, she can be eliminated.
Raidan took a deep breath to steady himself.
I must remain calm. I’ve nothing to worry about.
His heart ceased its headlong gallop and his steps slowed as he approached the double doors that led to his family’s private quarters. As he entered, the sound of his wife’s voice, raised in anger, drifted from an inner chamber. He followed the trail of heated words into his wife’s day room.
Princess Taya Onjara stood with her back to the door, hands clenched into fists by her side. Her head whipped around, green eyes flashing, as Raidan entered the room. “By the Goddess, your son has really done it this time!” she exclaimed.
Raidan’s heart skipped a beat. Even after forty years of marriage, he still thought Taya the most beautiful of all women.
The object of his wife’s fury-their eldest child, Raidu-stood before her, radiating defiance. She turned away from Raidan to face their son. “Go ahead… Tell your father, if you dare!” The young man’s chin lifted in obstinate refusal.
Raidu had always been rebellious by nature-even more so, now that he had officially reached adulthood. Raidan knew he ought to deal with his son’s perceived misdeed immediately, but he could not afford any distractions now.
“Not now, Wife,” Raidan responded.
Taya’s eyes widened in surprise. She opened her mouth to object but Raidan cut her off. “Whatever Raidu has done this time, we will deal with it later. I have serious news.” He turned toward Raidu. “It’s late, Son,” he said quietly. “Go to bed.” Raidu regarded his father speculatively for a few moments.
There’s so much of his mother in him, the prince thought. Same green eyes and auburn hair, same nose and chin.
Raidu departed with a final backward glance, leaving Raidan alone with Taya. He reached out and grabbed her hands, and before she could speak, he opened his mind to her.
Taya entered easily through the mental link they had forged years ago, a link that had grown stronger and more secure with the intimacy of their long marriage. She soon knew everything he did about the girl claiming to be Keizo’s daughter.
Taya withdrew, then lifted her right index finger and traced a glowing symbol in the air. As it flashed, then dissolved, Raidan felt the tingling caress of magical energy against the bare skin of his face and hands.
The two of them stood in silence for several heartbeats, then Taya said, “The room wards are up. We can speak freely.” Raidan nodded in understanding. “This girl is undoubtedly an Onjara, and dangerous, Husband, but not in the way you think,” Taya continued.
“What do you mean?” Raidan replied. “How do you know for sure?”
Taya drifted over to the room’s single, large window, open to the cool evening breezes. “What I am going to tell you now must not leave this room, Husband. Only two others know the entire truth, and it is vital that it remain so, for now.”
Raidan felt a chill finger stroke his backbone.
“I and my fellows in the Society have known about this girl for some time, and we believe…”
“What?” Raidan exclaimed, shock roughening his voice. “You’ve known about her… and you didn’t tell me…or my brother? How can this be?”
“Please, Husband, just listen to me, now!”
“You knew about this girl all along…and, yet you said nothing,” Raidan whispered. His nostrils flared, the only outward sign of his growing anger. For the first time in all the years he’d been married, he felt the bitter sting of…
No. Betrayal is too strong a word. Never that, not from her.
Unconsciously stroking the gold wedding bracelet on his right wrist, he chose his next words with care. “There is nothing you do that has no sound reason behind it, Wife, so…because I trust you above all others…I will listen and…hold…my…temper!”
Taya sat down on the padded bench beneath the window and after an instant’s hesitation, Raidan joined her.
“The Society believes that this girl is the vessel chosen by our predecessors to harbor that which they sought to safeguard from their…no, from our greatest enemy,” Taya explained in a soft, steady voice. “The Key has returned.”
“Is this…this key some kind of magic?” Raidan asked.
“Yes,” Taya replied. “A very powerful and dangerous magic.”
In addition to her high office as Crown Princess of Alasiri, Taya served as Mistress of the Kirian Society-the secretive collective of mages whose members were drawn from the most Talented of all of the land’s trained practitioners. Most of the time, Raidan stayed out of Taya’s way whenever she and her fellow mages met and conducted their business within the royal apartments, but occasionally, he couldn’t help but overhear some of what they discussed. He had never once doubted that he’d heard only what they had deemed safe for outsiders to know, and he had no memory of hearing anything about a key.
“The accounts are clear,” Taya continued. “The chronicles of the Society state that the Key will return to the material world harbored in the body of one born to the Onjara lineage. My colleague, Amara Sakehera, has lived closely with the girl for several weeks now. In fact, her son and this girl were recently married. It was Amara Sakehera who first discovered the Key within her new daughter-in-law, and she alerted the rest of us.”
“But this girl is hikui, and I’m still not entirely convinced that she’s an Onjara. How could a half-blood have the necessary strength to carry such a burden?” Raidan shook his head, his mind still unwilling to accept his wife’s words, despite his gut’s insistence that she spoke the truth.
“She is an Onjara, Husband. Sen Sakehera suspected the truth months ago, when the girl first came to Kerala, but he had to wait until he knew her character before he could act.”
“Goddess’ tits,” Raidan cursed, not knowing whether to be angry with Sakehera, or grateful. “My brother’s ring. Of course she would’ve shown it to Sen…That’s how he knew. She came to Alasiri looking for her elven sire, after all!”
Taya nodded. “Her Onjara blood gives her strength enough. I and my colleagues here in Sendai are to examine the girl tomorrow. We’ll know more then. But make no mistake. We all firmly believe she is the Key.”
Taya was the only person he knew with a keener intelligence than his own. Raidan trusted her instincts completely. “If you say this girl is your long-awaited Key, then I know it’s the truth,” he said. “Keizo will surely claim her. He might even attempt to get the council to go along with changing the law so that she can be named Heir. What then?”
“It won’t matter. Her fate is already sealed.” Taya looked down at the intricately tattooed palms of her hands. “We of the Society are tasked with re-securing the Key. In order to do this, the magic must be separated from its present vessel.” She paused, then added, “The vessel cannot survive the Sundering. The girl won’t live long enough pose any threat to you or our son.” Taya laid her head against Raidan’s shoulder. “Rest easy, love,” she soothed.
Raidan could feel her caressing his mind and using her magic to subtly influence his mood, but, because he trusted her implicitly, he allowed himself to be calmed.
“I know you are angry with me for not telling you the truth when first I learned of it, my love, but I was sworn to secrecy, as were we all. The danger was… is … just too great.”
“So you keep saying, Wife.” Raidan lifted Taya’s chin and stared deep into her eyes. Her hair smelled of jasmine, a fragrance she knew he found irresistible. He slipped his arm around her waist. “You know I’d rather leave magical business to you and your fellow mages, but this…this seems too important.” Raidan could feel his agitation returning. “Just how worried should I be?”
“This is the task of the Kirians,” Taya stated firmly. “You need not concern yourself directly…Not yet, anyway. All you need to be sure of is that this girl poses no threat to you, Husband.”
“If you say this is so…” He fell silent, but despite Taya’s assurances, he still felt unsettled.
With an effort, he forced himself to turn his mind to the matter of their son. “Tell me about Raidu. What’s he done now? I don’t suppose it will go away on its own, whatever it is?”
“Not without help,” Taya responded dryly. “It seems our son has been consorting with a certain hikui girl in the town… the daughter of his favorite boot maker.”
“Oh, Goddess, no!” Raidan groaned and covered his eyes. “Please don’t tell me…”
Taya sighed. “I’m afraid so. The girl is at least four months pregnant, Raidu tells me.”
“Damn him! Well, royal by-blows are nothing new. Is he certain it’s his?”
“Oh, yes. He admitted to taking certain…magical means to insure her fidelity, but not her infertility.” She clicked her tongue in exasperation. “He is quite proud of himself!”
Raidan shook his head. “Perhaps the girl won’t want the child.”
“Of course she’ll want it! It’s a royal bastard!”
“First my brother and now my own son!” Raidan muttered with bitter amusement, unable to ignore the irony of the situation. “Raidu must learn to deal with his own messes,” he stated flatly. “Since he’s admitting it’s his, he’ll do the honorable thing and support the child and its mother, but with his own money, not ours.”
They sat quietly for a time, each of them lost in thought.
I must not let events control me! As soon as they do, all is lost!
All of these things can and will be resolved, my love, but you needn’t worry about them now… Let me soothe you, Husband…
Taya folded his hands in hers and leaned forward to gently press her lips to his. Raidan felt the familiar, welcome stirring in his loins that always happened whenever his wife touched him. The anger and frustration built up within him drained away, and desire took its place. He pulled Taya hard against him to deepen their kiss. The wards remained in place; no one could enter the room without Taya’s leave. They were completely safe.
Raidan reached up and removed the ornate gold pins that held Taya’s hair in place. With a shake of her head, she sent her auburn tresses tumbling down around her shoulders and back. Her jade-green eyes smoldered as she let her simple lounging robe slip to the floor. Languidly, she moved from the window seat to the couch and lay upon it, ready to receive him. Raidan took a moment to savor the sight of his wife’s nakedness, then eagerly freed himself from the confines of his own clothing.
With a heartfelt sigh, he sank into Taya’s embrace. After so many years together, they no longer needed words when it came to the mutual pleasuring of their bodies, and at the exact moment of climax, Raidan felt his consciousness merge with his wife’s; for a time, they were as one, sailing together on successive waves of ecstasy.
It was this unity of consciousness that Raidan so craved, loved, and valued. Because he could only achieve it with Taya, he had no desire to make love to any other woman.
Afterwards, they lay together on the couch, sipping cool, sweet wine from silver goblets. As Raidan stroked his wife’s smooth back, his thoughts were wistful.
Ai, when we were young, Wife, you could get me up again with just a smile…Ah, well. That time is past now. Age does take its toll.
This realization did not make him sad, though. The intensity of their lovemaking had only grown stronger as they had aged, even as the frequency had declined.
It’s an equitable trade.
He breathed in the intermingled scents of jasmine and sex and allowed his mind to float. Taya shifted in his arms, then sat up and looked down at him, frowning “Husband…” she started, but he laid a finger on her lips.
“Hush, Wife. Not now,” he whispered. “Tomorrow.”
"Jelena… Wake up.”
Jelena awoke with a start. She had no memory of having fallen asleep. She opened her eyes and extended her arms to Ashinji, a drowsy smile curving her lips. The bed in which she lay felt soft and comfortable, and she would not have stirred for anyone except her husband.
Despite her weariness and the lateness of the hour, the sight of his face sent a tingle of desire coursing through her loins. “What are you waiting for? Come to bed,” she whispered invitingly.
“Jelena, listen to me,” Ashinji murmured. “You have to get up and get dressed now. The king has commanded that you be brought to him.”
Jelena sat up, all sleepiness evaporated. “The king has sent for me? Now? But…but it’s the middle of the night!” In the dim light cast by the single lamp, Ashinji’s eyes looked as dark as the sea during a tempest and she saw fear in their depths.
Her heart leapt like a deer. “Ashi, what’s wrong? What is happening?” She reached out to him and the coverlets slipped off her bare torso. Ashinji drew her to him and held her so tightly, she gasped. She could feel his body shaking. He caressed her breasts and she responded with a sigh, her nipples hardening under his gentle fingers. She buried her face against his neck, drinking in his scent.
As she slipped her hands beneath his tunic, he groaned and pulled away.
“We can’t do this now. My father is waiting downstairs. Get up and I’ll help you dress.” He twitched back the covers and scooped her up, setting her on her feet by the side of the bed.
“I…I haven’t had time to unpack…I have only my old clothes… What am I supposed to wear?” She stood with arms wrapped around her body, shivering, though the room was not cold.
“Your old clothes will have to do. I don’t think the king will notice what you are wearing.” He reached into the wooden chest at the foot of the bed and pulled out Jelena’s tunic and trousers.
As she donned her garments, she watched Ashinji from the corner of her eye; she could see him struggling to remain calm. Jelena swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “We’ve spoken of this, Ashi. If the king is my real father, it changes nothing.”
“You’re wrong, love. It’ll change everything,” Ashinji said quietly.
Jelena sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled on her boots, then rose to check herself in the looking glass. She plucked at the coiled mass of her hair, fluffing it into a less unruly arrangement, then squared her shoulders. “I’m ready,” she declared. Ashinji pulled her close and kissed her neck. “Don’t be afraid, Ashi,” she whispered. “I’m your wife now. No one, not even the king, can separate us!”
“The king can do whatever he likes with his own,” Ashinji replied, then took her hand. Together, they descended the stairs to the sitting room.
Sen and Amara stood side by side in the center of the room. Both of them fixed their eyes upon Jelena as she entered. Without warning, a wave of dizziness overcame her and she staggered against Ashinji, who locked his arm around her waist to keep her from falling.
“What is it, love?” Ashinji’s face looked stricken.
“Jelena! Are you feeling ill, my dear?” Sen must have noticed her momentary distress.”
“I just felt a little dizzy…It’s nearly passed,” she said. Ashinji stared at her, frowning. “Ashi…really. It’s passed, I promise,” she added. “I’m just very nervous about meeting the king.”
“Jelena…This is what you’ve been waiting for!” Sen laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Tonight, your search ends.”
“May Ashi come with me?” Jelena asked.
Sen nodded. “We will accompany you to the king’s presence, but he will speak with you alone. Come now, let’s not keep him waiting.”
Amara kissed Jelena lightly on the forehead. “Don’t be afraid…” then added in mindspeech, Remember who you are!
Jelena nodded in reply.
“I don’t know when we’ll be back. Don’t wait up!” Sen called over his shoulder as they departed. “She will, of course,” he muttered as he closed the doors behind them.
Sen led the way through the dim halls of the night-shrouded castle. Jelena gripped Ashinji’s hand as if her very life depended on not letting go. After passing through a set of large doors guarded by a pair of stone-faced soldiers, the three of them walked through a final set of doors into a small room furnished with a writing table, a couch, and several stools. The man seated at the table looked up as they entered.
Jelena knew immediately that this must be Keizo Onjara.
The guard who had announced them withdrew, and the king stood. Jelena dropped to one knee and lowered her head in the Soldaran style as Sen and Ashinji bowed.
“Majesty, this is my son’s wife, Jelena,” Sen stated. Jelena sensed, rather than saw, the king move to stand in front of her. His presence felt like a glowing furnace, blasting her with energy. She felt something within her respond, tugging like a hound eager to slip its lead. She dared to look up.
Eyes grey as a winter storm met hers, yet she saw no coldness there.
“Thank you, old friend,” the king replied, then addressed Ashinji. “Captain Sakehera, I need to speak to your wife in private, if I may.” His level voice revealed nothing of what he might be thinking.
Jelena looked over her shoulder at her husband. The king didn’t need his permission, of course, but Jelena saw that Ashi appreciated the gesture of respect. He nodded and replied, “Of course, Majesty.” A single tear gathered at the corner of his left eye, but he reached up and dashed it away before it could fall. Sen looked at her and smiled, then he and Ashinji exited the room, leaving Jelena alone with the king.
“You may sit,” Keizo said, indicating a cushioned stool to her right. Jelena got up off her knee and settled upon the stool. She folded her hands in her lap and kept her eyes downcast.
The king sat in the chair at his writing table. “How well do you speak Siri-dar?” he inquired.
“Well enough, your Majesty,” Jelena answered. “I am getting better every day.”
“Your accent is still quite heavy,” he commented, but she heard no unkindness or criticism in his tone. “Your name is Jelena.” He phrased it as a statement, not a question. “Tell me about yourself, Jelena.”
Jelena raised her eyes.
Ashinji and Sen both, at times, had referred to the king as Silverlock, and Jelena now knew why. The hair from which he derived his nickname fell unbound to just below his shoulders. He looked to be about the same age as Sen, with a lean and ascetically handsome face. Fine lines creased the corners of his eyes.
He wore a deep blue tunic and trousers of raw silk, richly decorated with an embroidered pattern of sleek, calico carp. Padded socks and leather sandals covered his feet. He wore no jewelry save a large ruby in his left ear and a heavy signet ring of white gold upon his right hand. He held his left hand closed around something.
The king studied her closely, as if trying to memorize every detail of her face. Jelena had to struggle not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze. He tilted his head to one side, expectant.
Nervously, she cleared her throat.
“I was born at a place known as Amsara, in the castle of my uncle the duke. My mother was his only sister.” Jelena told her story concisely, with little embellishment. She had no desire to inspire pity in this man, nor did she want any special favors from him. She only wanted to know if she had the right to call him ‘Father’.
As she spoke, Silverlock continued to study her, but his manner remained reassuring, and she felt her apprehension slowly melt away.
“And so, my father-in-law brought me with him to Sendai, so that I might ask your help, Majesty.” Jelena fell silent, her story concluded.
“Sen Sakehera is my oldest friend. We were boys together,” Keizo said, a wistful note coloring his voice. He rolled the hidden object around in his left hand, then opened his fingers to reveal Jelena’s ring. “But even Sen didn’t know certain things about me…until tonight.”
“That is my ring, Majesty, but…of course, you already know that. Did it tell you anything…about who my father might be?” Jelena asked. She almost dared not breathe.
“Let me tell you a story now,” the king replied softly. “Many years ago, a young man set out on a journey to visit the home of an old friend who lived far to the east, a friend he hadn’t seen in awhile. While on the road, he heard stories of increased trouble with humans in the border areas to the southeast. Because he held a high position in the land, he felt it was his duty to investigate, and so he made a detour for that purpose.”
“While riding through the forest along the border, the man stumbled upon an armed human patrol. The humans immediately gave chase, and the man rode for his life, knowing that if the soldiers caught him, they would kill him. He managed to lose his pursuers, but his horse stumbled badly and threw the man down into a dry creek bed. He landed hard and broke his leg.”
Jelena gasped in dismay, but said nothing, not wanting to disturb the king’s train of thought.
“He lay for a very long time in that hot, dry streambed, tormented by pain and thirst. He nearly lost his life, but the Goddess at last granted him mercy and sent his deliverance in the form of a woman. This woman shielded him from his enemies and tended his body while his injuries healed.”
“Ai,” the king sighed, “those weeks were so long, pain-filled, and fraught with peril… not just for the man, but for his caregiver as well, for, you see, they were in constant danger of discovery. The man pleaded with the woman to leave him and return to her home. He knew that if she were found harboring him, she would share his fate. Her own people would kill her, just as they would kill him. She refused.”
It’s just as Claudia told me…as my mother told her, Jelena thought. She dared to look directly at the king as he spoke, and imagined what her mother’s feelings must have been like while gazing at the same face.
“A strange thing began to happen between the two of them,” the king continued, “although, if one thinks about it, it doesn’t seem so strange after all. Like a rose through winter snow, love bloomed in their hearts. The strength of his feelings took the man completely by surprise, but the woman confessed to him that she had known, from the beginning, that this was meant to be.”
“They spent three, joyous, heart-wrenching days as lovers. The man, despite his pain, made love to his dear one with intense, bittersweet passion. They both cried many tears of anguish, for they knew their love could never leave the shelter of their hiding place. It had to end when he became strong enough to make his escape.”
“On the day he left, the man gave the woman the only possession of his that he had to give. A small remembrance, perhaps, but after all, it was enough.” He leaned forward, his eyes locked to hers, then said, “I slipped my ring onto Drucilla’s finger and left her behind. I never looked back, dared not, for if I had, I might not have had the strength to leave, and we would both be dead now. And you would have never been born.”
Jelena felt a mantle of calm descend upon her. All of her anxiety melted before the power of the king’s revelation.
Keizo slipped her ring onto the middle finger of his left hand, then extended both hands, palms down, towards her. Her ring was an exact match to the one he wore on his right hand. Both rings gleamed softly in the lamplight, but the king’s seemed brighter, somehow. Jelena could only stare, first at Keizo’s hands-so fine and beautiful-then at his face.
“One final test remains, a confirmation, really, of what I know in my heart to be true.” The king removed the ring from his right hand and held it up before Jelena’s eyes. “This is the White Griffin, the Ring of State that has passed down from one Onjara sovereign to the next. It has been over a thousand years since its making, and it contains powers that only one of true Onjara blood can awaken. Your ring is a copy of this one. ” He held out his hand. “Put it on, Jelena.”
Jelena looked at the ring on his palm, so like hers and yet… “What if I put it on and nothing happens?” she whispered.
“Something will happen,” the king declared. His tone left no room for doubt. Jelena picked the ring up off his palm and slipped it onto her right index finger.
The metal flared to life and glowed like a blue-white star, startling Jelena and dazzling her eyes. She felt the energy of the ring’s magic pulling at her; deep within herself, her own magic-that which Amara called the Key- stirred in response. She looked at the king in astonishment. “It…I…” she stammered, unable to say anything more.
Keizo nodded in understanding. “Jelena, I could not have known that I left Drucilla with child, though I plead guilty to pushing the potential consequences of acting on our love from my mind. It was terribly selfish of me, and I realize that my excuses can only sound disgustingly weak to you…you who had to suffer from those very consequences. I never would have left you among your mother’s people if I had known about you. Somehow, I would have found a way to rescue you.”
Deep within her, Jelena felt a dam burst. She opened her mouth to cry out, but a mere trickle of sound escaped her lips, a barely breathed word.
“Father…”
The king opened his arms. “Come, Daughter,” he whispered.
Jelena went to him, laid her head upon his chest, and lost herself in his embrace.
This can’t be happening! I must be dreaming and I’m going to wake up any moment!
“What are you thinking, Jelena?”
Jelena sighed and opened her eyes. Keizo gazed earnestly at her, faint worry lines creasing his forehead. “I was just wondering when I was going to awaken from this beautiful dream,” she answered.
“‘Tis no dream, child. I’ll gladly pinch you to prove it.” He smiled, and Jelena’s heart fluttered. That this man… this man, of all men, was her father seemed truly astounding.
“I…I do not know what to say, how to act. I’m just a…a…” She searched in vain for the correct word but the king spoke before she could.
“You are a daughter of the House of Onjara. In ancient high Siri-dar, onjara means ‘griffin’. Our line has ruled unbroken in Alasiri for over a thousand years. Never doubt your blood, Jelena.”
“You said that you loved my mother. How is that possible, that an elf could love a human?”
The sweet notes of a nightingale’s song wafted in through the open window on a whisper of breeze. The glow cast by the brass lamps highlighted the planes of the king’s face. His eyes were pensive. “Does not Ashinji Sakehera love you? It’s easy, Daughter, when a man and a woman see each other as just that, and they refuse to allow petty distinctions to cloud their ability to give and receive love. Drucilla, to me, was my savior. I didn’t see a human female when I looked at her, I saw the woman I loved.”
Jelena looked down at her palms and saw the callused, work-roughened hands of a servant, not the fine smooth ones of a princess.
How will I ever find a place in my father’s refined world, she thought.
A sudden wave of fear swept over her. “I…I cannot do this!” she gasped. “I haven’t the slightest idea of how to be a…a princess! I was raised as a servant! I’m still amazed that Lord and Lady Sakehera have accepted me, but I don’t for a moment believe that any of your other lords will. You don’t have to pretend, Father. I know my very existence will cause trouble for you.” Desperately, she looked up and dared to meet the king’s eyes, searching for the slightest hint of anger or regret, but she saw only tenderness and understanding.
“I know that you’re afraid, child. It’s only natural. But you must trust me. I am your father and I will protect you.”
Jelena closed her eyes and drew in a slow, deep breath. “I do trust you,” she replied.
“Good,” Keizo said. “And now, there is the question of your marriage.”
Jelena’s eyes flew open. “You can’t make me give up Ashinji! I won’t!” she cried, pushing herself out of the king’s embrace. She took a step back from him and stood with hands clenched, her whole body trembling.
“And you think that it is proper for my only daughter to be wed to a mere second son with no lands or title, even if he is the child of my oldest friend, eh?” Jelena looked up sharply and caught the barest flicker of a smile tugging at the king’s mouth. “Do you love lowly Captain Sakehera?” he asked.
“With all my heart!” Jelena whispered fiercely.
The king remained silent for several, agonizing heartbeats, arms folded across his chest, simply watching her. She forced herself to hold his gaze without wavering. At last, he spoke. “Then I, too, shall love him as a son.” He held out his hand and Jelena went to him. After a moment, she relaxed in his arms and pushed aside her fears and uncertainties.
“You are so much like her,” he murmured. “Same nose, same hair…” Gently, he stroked her curls.
“The only part of my mother I wish I could give up,” Jelena responded ruefully.
Keizo laughed, but she heard a note of sadness in his voice. “Truly, I would have joined my life with Drucilla’s if things had been different.”
“The past can’t be changed, Father. All we have is the present,” Jelena said, looking up into his face.
“And the future is not yet written.” He kissed her forehead and released her. “It’s very late and I know you are tired. Go back to your husband now. I will send for the two of you tomorrow.”