By Moonrise Read online

  “Yes, thank you,” she fibbed, having had little occasion to enjoy anything since waking up a short time ago.

  “That is good to hear,” he said. “You know, there are so few charming young women around these days. I am so glad you have decided to visit us.”

  She smiled bashfully. “Thanks.” His friendliness was well appreciated.

  Servants began to bring platters of food to the table. After missing at least one meal, Kate would have been willing to eat just about anything, and the huge loaves of bread, egg custards and baked meat pies looked delicious. With gratitude she nodded to the boy who served her generous portions of everything she requested.

  As everyone ate, the conversation was light, with Bryll commenting on the state of the orchards, and Tashin complementing her on the late roses blooming in the courtyard gardens, some of which Kate had already noticed in the room. Rynar said little, focusing on his meal rather than engaging in conversation. She was happy following his lead, and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible.

  Finally, Vosira Bedoric wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and looked to those at the table. “I believe there are several matters of business for us to attend to this morning?”

  “Aye. This arrived this morning from Hansar.” Tashin leaned over and handed Bedoric a rolled-up parchment bearing an intact seal.

  The Vosira cracked open the seal and examined the contents, making a face of disgust. “Blast it all, there are still more demands. That queen has no regard for Sarducia’s limitations. Clearly, this woman means to bleed us dry,” he said, stabbing at the parchment with a fat index finger. “Such blackmail cannot be tolerated.”

  Castellan Solerav sounded surprised at the comment. “Blackmail, Vosira? What do you mean?”

  He replied, in a mocking voice, “apparently Sarducia’s tariffs on Hansar’s goods are still too high.” He pushed the crumpled parchment in Rynar’s direction. “I can scarcely believe Tylnea’s audacity—she demands we reduce the tariffs at once.”

  “Again?” Jamra asked, his blind eyes staring straight ahead. “We reduced them considerably in the autumn, did we not?”

  “We did, but now she wants more. She also wants us to double our shipments of glysar.” Vosira Bedoric gulped a half-goblet of wine, which was promptly refilled by a boy standing at his side. “She’s threatening to refuse our ships in her ports if we do not comply.”

  “I assume she also insists once again that we disband the Sarnoc?” Abranir asked.

  “Aye, naturally,” the Vosira said, with a sigh. “She thinks we can control what the people want to believe. She’s no better than the damn Sarnoc themselves in this regard. While I agree with her in principle, I’m not ready to turn half of the country against me.”

  “As if she really cares about our faith either way,” Koldren spat, and wrinkled up his face, causing the scar to become more prominent. “It’s a bid to control Sarducia, plain and simple, and she’s going to be dissatisfied no matter what we do in this regard. She recognizes that the Hidden God movement divides our people, and she finds that beneficial to her own interests.”

  “That may well be,” Solerav replied. “But there is truth to what the Prophet says. We all know that the Sarnoc serve only to weaken our kingdom, after all. We would be better off without their interference.”

  “Nay, Solerav, they do not weaken us.” Jamra countered, his voice more forceful than Kate expected. “The Sarnoc are the very reason the gods have not forsaken us, as they have so many other lands, including Hansar.” He cleared his throat, and then added in a low voice, “our biggest mistake was barring them from the city.”

  “Oh Jamra,” Solerav replied with an annoyed sigh. Rolling his eyes in an overly dramatic gesture that was lost on the other man, he added, “you really need to come to your senses on this matter. You know as well as any man in this room that the Sarnoc are nothing like they once were.”

  A sharp cough from the Vosira forestalled any reply, and then Rynar spoke up. “Jamra, you have been warned before about such dissent. You would be well advised to hold your tongue.”

  “Aldrish, I know the laws of this kingdom as well as you,” Jamra snapped back. “I have been a member of the Council for a great many years, and served as Vosira Parmon’s first Aldrish. I think I’ve earned the right to speak my mind.”

  In what seemed to be a clever attempt to defuse the situation, Pyrsac jumped into the conversation, turning to her with a smile. “Speaking of the Prophet, Bhara, have you been introduced to his teachings? Some of them are quite scandalous, but I find them fascinating.”

  Before she could stumble through a response, she felt Rynar’s hand on her arm. “Pyrsac,” he replied on her behalf, “the lady is from a distant land and has no knowledge of such things—though, to be sure, most of the people in her country also worship just one god.”

  It was an odd thing to say, and she shot him a glance, but once he had spoken, he busied himself with buttering a slice of bread.

  “Is this true, Bhara?” Vosira Bedoric asked, and was leaning forward eagerly.

  Everyone seemed anxious for her reply. “Well, I suppose so.” She had no idea why it mattered. All the same, her response pleased everyone except Jamra, who simply shook his head silently.

  “Bhara, I trust the Aldrish will bring you to the square, so that you can hear the preachers speak the words of the Prophet, and judge his teachings for yourself,” the Vosira offered. “He has many interesting opinions on our relationship with the gods. Indeed, I am sure the Aldrish would be pleased to explain why the Prophet holds such promise for our land.” He paused, watching the man now poking at his meat with his knife. “Aldrish?” the Vosira prompted.

  “Indeed, Vosira.”

  “Is there something else on your mind? You are rarely so reserved.”

  Rynar leaned closer to the Vosira. “Aye, but I did not want to raise it to the Council yet,” he said, speaking so quietly that had Kate not been sitting beside him, she would not have been able to make out the words. “Perhaps we can discuss it later.”

  The Vosira felt none of his advisor’s need for discretion, and loudly replied, “this is hardly the Council.” He laughed. “Come man, we have no secrets among us. It must be important if it distracts you so. What is it?”

  Rynar hesitated for a moment, taking the time to make eye contact with each person in the room. After a quick sigh, as if annoyed that he would have to speak publicly about his concerns, he nodded. “Very well.” He turned away from the Vosira, and continued. “I received some unsettling news from one of my men in the city.”

  “News, Aldrish? Do tell,” the Vosira requested.

  Rynar waved to the boy to refill the Vosira’s goblet, and then cleared his throat. “I had a credible report that the Dosedra was seen in Loraden last night.”

  Although the news meant nothing to Kate, it obviously was of immense significance to everyone else in the room. The men turned to each other in shock, several murmuring to themselves.

  Meanwhile, all of the color faded from the Vosira’s face, replaced by a sheen of perspiration, a slick spreading across his forehead and cheeks. When his wife placed her hand on his shoulder, gazing at him with a mixture of surprise and concern, he did not turn to her, and for a good minute he sat silently, his thick hands gripping the edge of the table. Even when Bryll finally leaned over to speak to him, he acted as though he could not hear her. Then his head began to sway slightly, making Kate wonder if he was about to faint, but then he licked his lips and found his voice.

  “How is it possible?” he finally asked in a rough voice. “My brother is still alive?”

  After glancing at the Vosira, who did not appear composed enough to speak further, Abranir addressed Rynar. “Aldrish,” he began tentatively, “Queen Tylnea told us he died many years ago. Who is this source, and could they be mistaken? No one in Sarducia has seen the Dosedra in a long time.”

  Rynar nodded, his expression solemn. “Aye, of course, the news i
s hard to believe.” He spoke softly, almost as if he tried to reassure the others with his news. “My source felt certain of the man’s identity, and I am inclined to believe it as well. However, maybe we should accept it as a rumor for the time being.” He leaned forward to catch the castellan’s attention. “I have instructed Senvosra to search for him, and they will contact me if they find him.”

  “I do not understand,” Solerav replied, his eyes bright and accusatory, though his anger did not seem directed at anyone in particular. “If he somehow survived, why wouldn’t we have heard news of this before now?” He shook his head. “This must be a mistake. I cannot believe he would suddenly appear, not after all this time, and not after how he left Sarducia so long ago.”

  “Aye,” Koldren added. “I agree. If he is alive and returning home, why would he not tell us?”

  “What if it’s true? Tashin replied. “Perhaps Tylnea misled us intentionally? It doesn’t seem difficult to imagine them conspiring together. After all, the queen must know about Arric’s treachery. Perhaps she has been giving him shelter all this time.” As he said this, his eyes darted towards Kate, as if blaming her somehow for the situation, but then he returned his attention to the end of the table. “It would be just like her to do something devious like this, telling us he had died so she could keep him in hiding until she judged the timing was right to send him home.”

  “Listen to you all. Your paranoia is ridiculous! Need I remind you all that when the Dosedra left Sarducia, he led our troops in battle?” Jamra interrupted. “If he’s still alive, there’s no reason to jump to all of these conclusions. Perhaps he simply wants to return to his home. At any rate, it certainly doesn’t mean he’s a traitor!”

  “You know as well as we do that he didn’t leave Sarducia for altruistic reasons, Jamra. And given all he has done, is it any wonder we would question his return?” Solerav shot back.

  “He left to fight the Mosumi, at Tylnea’s request!” Jamra’s face was flushed, and he slapped his palm on the table for emphasis. “If anything, it was a diplomatic choice. How could he have known that Tylnea would turn on us afterwards?”

  Tashin scrunched up his thin face in disgust, and for a moment it looked like he was going to spit on the floor but thought better of it. “Aye, and Froida was a disaster! All those men lost—and until now, we thought the Dosedra one of them! After everything he did there, if he still lives, he must be held accountable.”

  “Clearly we have a different view of Froida,” Jamra retorted. “Perhaps it was Tylnea’s treachery that condemned his men? We have never had a satisfactory accounting of what happened in Froida, and if the Dosedra is alive, there may be many other things we do not know about what happened. At any rate, you know the Sarnoc do not agree with the version of events you’ve laid out.”

  “You make a good point. What if it’s the Sarnoc who are behind this?” Tashin crossed his arms. “Vosira, I don’t like this situation at all. If he is alive, action must be taken immediately!”

  Bedoric had not spoken again, and remained visibly shaken by the news. At the comment posed directly to him, he rubbed his cheeks with his palm. “Tashin, if it’s true, I—” he started, and then swallowed heavily, and pounded his fist once on the table. “Nay. I cannot believe this report. It’s been what, eight years since we were told he had been killed?” he asked, turning to Rynar. Seeing him nod, the Vosira continued. “How could he have survived without our knowledge, for all this time? It’s impossible. We have men in Tylnea’s court. They would have told us.” He took a sip of his wine, and exchanged glances with Bryll. Then he returned his gaze to the men around the table. “Blast this whole mess. I wish we had even a shred of information we could use.” Although he had just cast his doubts over the report, he was still perspiring. Kate watched him run a finger along the edge of a wooden platter, and then raised the finger to his torc. This was not the visage of someone acting in confidence, and he confirmed his doubts by asking aloud, “what if he has returned to challenge my rule now, after all this time? As you all have suggested, what if he has been working with the Sarnoc, or Tylnea? How can we deal with this, and end his treachery once and for all?”

  The men in the room all replied at once, their voices raised to try to be heard over the others. Rynar raised his arms to quiet the debate, but none seemed to notice him until he stood up and clapped his hands once over his head. “Men, calm yourselves. I agree with the Vosira. We must first confirm the reports. Until then, it’s pointless to speculate on why he has returned, or what he may be intending to do now.” He spoke with measured words, his tone reassuring. “Vosira, I would recommend you proceed with caution. If he resurfaces, at that time you will be able to demand that he account for his time and explain the false reports. For now, though, we must not panic.”

  “Indeed. We still do not know for certain that it was him,” Koldren pointed out. “What if your informant was mistaken?”

  “Aye,” Bedoric agreed, although his tone sounded tentative. “We can hope for that.”

  The room fell silent as everyone watched Vosira Bedoric tug at the torc at his neck. He then drained his goblet, and turned back to Rynar. “Aldrish, if it really is him—if somehow, after all this time he really has returned to Loraden—” he paused, appearing to collect his thoughts as he placed his palm against his chest, “what do we do first?”

  Rynar tapped his lips, not at all surprised that the Vosira had deferred to his judgment. “Ah, well, there is but one appropriate response. You must welcome him back with open arms.” At these words there was noticeable disagreement, and once again several men raised their voices in challenge. With one hand raised, Rynar quieted them all. “Hear me out, men. We have already established that we have no idea why the Dosedra might return after all these years, and lacking such information we cannot allow him to cause problems for his brother. Consider this: he will be able to do much less damage if the people think his brother welcomes his return. We cannot give the impression that we were caught off-guard by his reappearance, or worse, that we have reason to fear him. In fact, I believe we should immediately honor him at a celebratory quantrill at which our Vosira demonstrates how pleased he is that his brother has returned safely and heroically from the battlefield.”

  “That’s insane,” Tashin grumbled. “You know as well as the rest of us that the Dosedra is nothing but trouble for us all. Best we throw him in a cell and be done with it.”

  “Aye,” Abranir said quickly. “We need to put out a call to arrest the Dosedra—for our own safety.”

  Vosira Bedoric glanced to those men, and then to Rynar. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and then looked down at the table. “Nay, the Aldrish is right,” he announced, finally pulling himself together. “He may have shamed himself with his actions in Froida, but he is still a son of Parmon. Perhaps he has returned because he has nowhere else to go, which means he has no choice but finally accept my rule.” He placed both palms on the table. “If we welcome him, we may be able to convince him to share critical information about Tylnea, which he certainly will refuse to do from the dungeons. We are better off not letting him know we consider him a threat.” He nodded to Rynar. “It is good that you brought this to our attention. If your information is accurate, then we must not delay. See to it that preparations to host a grand feast in his honor begin immediately. And Aldrish—if he truly is in the city, you must find him!”

  Chapter 4

  “Do you remember anything from the time you arrived?”

  Rynar had directed Kate into a suite just a couple of doors down from the room they had just left. It consisted of two generously-sized rooms separated by a wall with a fireplace that opened into both spaces. For such a large suite, it was sparsely furnished, the central feature being the heavy wooden table piled high with large leather-bound folios, a thick stack of papers held down with round stones, and a cluster of white feathers in a tin cup. The stone floor was cushioned with a thick carpet embroidered wi
th vines, and the long wall across from the fire wore a wide tapestry depicting a variety of animals all delicately embroidered onto the dark wool.

  “What do you mean? I, uh…” she fumbled. It was an odd opening question, given everything that had transpired in the other room. “I woke up in that room, and found the dress…”

  Without replying to that statement, he waved her towards a wide chair piled with pillows, and then began to rummage through the items on the table. Then he asked, “did you speak to anyone else besides Abranir before I found you in the hallway?”

  She settled herself amidst the cushions. “No. He was the first person I saw.”

  “Ah, good,” he replied, his back towards her. “That is one less problem then.” With a single powerful sweep of his arm, he pushed three massive folios bound in leather to the table’s edge, and rifled through a stack of loose papers.

  Growing exasperated by the situation and lack of information, she was unable to relax, and watching him digging through his papers made her even more anxious. “What’s going on here, really? Did my aunts put you up to this?”

  As soon as she spoke he gave up on whatever it was he was looking for and pivoted around, leaning against the table. He crossed his arms and lowered his eyes to inspect her more closely. Yet he didn’t answer her questions. “When speaking to others, you just gave your name as ‘Kate’?”

  That was another odd question that she wasn’t sure how to answer. “Uh, yeah, that’s my name, after all. But why aren’t you answering my questions?”

  He stared at her, his lips pressed tightly. Then he took a deep breath and appeared to calm slightly. “Perhaps no one knows, then.”

  “What do you mean? What doesn’t anyone know?” She stood up and crossed her arms, just as he had done. “Would you please tell me where I am, and what all of that—” she said, gesturing in the direction of the room they had left, “was all about?”