By Moonrise Page 4

  Rynar clucked his tongue. “You really have no idea where you are?” Then he cocked his head to one side. “Did no one tell you about Sarducia before you traveled here?”

  “Who would have told me? As far as I know, this place shouldn’t even exist. I couldn’t have known I was coming here, other than—” she hesitated. Something had happened to her, and whatever it was, it all started with the voices in her head, and then there was her glowing ring. She was about to say something about all that, but then she had second thoughts. She didn’t know this man, or what he wanted with her. Her instincts told her to stay silent for now. “Honestly, I don’t have a clue about where I am or how I got here.”

  He didn’t seem to notice the stumble. Instead, he wrenched his mouth to one side, as if puzzling something out, and then stepped over to the hearth where he bent over to stir the coals. After a moment he shook his head. “Ah, sorry, they’re cold, and there is no time to light a new fire.” He turned back to her, and continued. “Well, seeing as this is all new to you, allow me to explain. First of all, this is very much real. We are right now within the royal keep,” he gestured to the walls around them, “which is in the city of Loraden, in the kingdom of Sarducia.” As he spoke, he watched her carefully. “Back there, at breakfast, I had to share the unfortunate news with the Vosira that his brother has returned. In fact, I need to leave in a few moments to try to find out where the Dosedra might be now.”

  “You made it seem like it was a rumor.”

  “Aye, but it’s not. I’m certain he appeared in the city last night, and I’d like to find him before he, or the Senvosra, do something stupid. It could be a dangerous situation.”

  “Senvosra?” Kate repeated. “That man, Abranir—he mentioned that word before. What is it?”

  “That refers to the royal solders. They are not known for their gentle handling.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that. “So what’s the big deal about this dos… dos… whatever that is? It didn’t sound like anyone liked the news.”

  “Dosedra. And nay, there are none on the Council who would welcome that man, except perhaps Jamra, and even he knows better than to challenge the Vosira on this topic.” As he continued, Rynar remained where he stood, his eyes never leaving her. “This is what you need to understand. Vosira Parmon was murdered eight years ago, and afterwards there was considerable confusion because he had not proclaimed an heir between his two adult sons. There was a heated dispute over who would become heir, but as the older son, Bedoric had the support of the majority of the Council and ultimately assumed his father’s place. After that, Arric became Dosedra—which means simply, ‘one who does not inherit’—and he didn’t take it well. He immediately left for the court of Queen Tylnea of Hansar, where he signed up to lead the fight against the Mosumi tribes who were making trouble on Hansar’s border.

  “After that, not even a year later, the Vosira received the news of a massive battle with terrible casualties on both sides. Some of the Hansari and Sarducian troops might have survived, we were told, had the Dosedra not abandoned his men in the thick of battle. We heard stories that a disgruntled Hansari soldier killed him in retaliation, but it seems that information may have been inaccurate. There were tales of him being a particularly vicious fighter, so it’s not difficult to imagine what he might do if he still holds a grudge against his brother.”

  What kind of political intrigue had she stumbled into? “There was some concern that he would be working with someone called the Sarnoc. Who are they?”

  “Really?” The question seemed to genuinely surprise him. “You do not know about them either?”

  From the way he shook his head to himself, she guessed that her ongoing ignorance of this land was trying his patience. “Why would I? Like I said, until this morning I didn’t even know this place existed.”

  He let out a breath through pursed lips, as if buying time to decide on how to respond. “Very well, then. It’s important that you understand this as well. We have four gods: Yoren, the keeper of the dead; Jorell, the god of order; Cira, the goddess of disorder; and Kerthal, who oversees all life. The Sarnoc are the guardians of that faith, serving as teachers, healers, and judges, and they are quite powerful, both in a political sense and more—” he said, and drew a breath, “shall we say, ‘esoterically’.”

  She tried to make sense of that. “Do you mean magic?”

  “Hmm, I suppose you could say that, depending on how you define it. There was true magic here once, but most of the knowledge has been lost over the centuries. The Sarnoc possess what little information there is on the subject, and guard it carefully as the representatives of the gods’ will and authority.”

  “It sounded like you don’t believe any of that.”

  “Oh, I do, but it’s complicated.” He glanced down at the floor for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts, and then looked back up at her. “The Sarnoc were implicated in Vosira Parmon’s murder, and Bedoric forced them out of the city. After that, it was dangerous for anyone on the Council to openly support the Sarnoc. Then this Prophet appeared, teaching that there was one god and the Sarnoc aren’t necessary, and that gave Bedoric another excuse to further undermine the Sarnoc’s authority.” He caught her eyes, and added, his voice lower, “I think the Hidden God rhetoric is foolish, but I keep that to myself.”

  “So let me get this straight: the Vosira worries that his brother has returned and is working with these Sarnoc to overthrow him?”

  “Aye, that’s one way of putting it. Dosedra Arric was very close to the Sarnoc before he left. Given his history, I cannot rule it out.”

  “You make it sound like he might try to kill his brother.”

  He frowned. “Aye, it’s distinctly possible. He certainly has the potential to do great harm.” He went back to digging within the pile on the table. “This is why we have to welcome him back, and watch him carefully. Perhaps he wants nothing at all but to be home again, but that is hard to believe.”

  Chapter 5

  “The Aldrish gave me strict instructions to look after you.” After receiving a message that confirmed the Dosedra was in the city, Rynar rushed off to manage the situation. After a contrite apology, he deposited Kate into the hands of a stout woman named Lillia, whose smile rivaled Kate’s own mother’s. “And I take my duties very seriously,” she added.

  “What do you mean, ‘look after me’?” Kate challenged. “I don’t need a guardian, you know.”

  That made the woman laugh. “Oh my, the Aldrish didn’t exaggerate one bit. You really have come a long way to Loraden, haven’t you?”

  “You could say that,” Kate said, amused by the understatement.

  “Ah, then, come, allow me to show you around the keep.”

  As Lillia led her down the hallways, Kate learned that in the keep, equal attention had been paid to defense and comfort. The building itself had been constructed in the shape of a square, with fortified outer walls a foot thick with had narrow windows barely wider than her head. Meanwhile, the inner walls had wide windows that overlooked a large courtyard garden below. Despite the cold, imposing structure, the residents had gone to great lengths to make it feel cozy with thick rugs, tapestries candles everywhere.

  The hallways were also filled with activity. Servants bustled about filling vases with fresh-cut flowers and plumping pillows in cozy alcoves. Others carried piles of clothing or stacks of firewood. Soldiers in blue, swords at their waists, stood guard at doorways. And they passed a number of people of all stations who were all in a rush to get where they were going.

  Along the way, it was impossible to avoid hearing rumors of the Dosedra’s surprise appearance. The topic was on the lips of nearly everyone they passed. At one point Kate and Lillia passed two ladies sitting on an upholstered bench who were complaining that there simply wasn’t enough time to put together a proper quantrill in a single day.

  Just before midday, Lillia ran into a friend of hers who was escorting two young girls, perh
aps six or seven years old. As the two women shared news, Kate introduced herself to the two girls, who were excited to tell her about their new pony.

  After several minutes, Lillia gently interrupted the animated conversation. “Girls, you have taken far too much of Kate’s time.”

  “No, it’s fine. They’re adorable. Navina hasn’t ever been on a horse before, is that right?”

  “She will never stop talking if you let her,” Lillia cautioned. “In any event, it is time we return to your quarters. The Aldrish was quite clear that I was to make sure you were prepared for tonight.”

  After promising they could tell her more about the pony later, Kate tore herself away, and reluctantly followed Lillia back to the room she had been previously assigned. Since all of the rooms looked alike on the outside, she had to count doors once they reached the landing, so she could be sure to find it again later. Second floor, turn left, eighth door from the stairs. “Are you sure that this is the same room I was in before?” she asked when they entered. Unlike the dark, cold space she had left, now the windows were open, there were fresh candles on the table, flowers on the mantel over the fire, and a stack of wood beside the hearth. There was also a tray with fruits, cheeses and a small pie that was still warm and filled the room with a delicious aroma.

  “Partridge and potatoes,” the maid informed Kate as she leaned over to smell the pie. “Once you’ve eaten, we’ll get started.”

  “Aren’t you going to join me?”

  “Join you, my lady?”

  Kate pointed to the food. “Lunch time, right?”

  Lillia chuckled. “Oh no, I have much to do. I still need to get your evening’s garments and assist you in dressing. I shall eat shortly. Please, have a seat.”

  Her jaw fell open. “Really? So you’re not just here to show me around?”

  “Oh goodness, no. You must have a maid to look after your needs, and I was honored that the Aldrish requested me.”

  A maid? Kate had never had anyone wait on her before, other than at a restaurant, and suddenly she felt very awkward. How could she sit there and eat while her companion swept ashes from the hearth? Instead of eating, she asked, “so what exactly is this is quantrill, anyway?”

  “Ah, it’s a formal banquet for all of the Bhagali. Indeed, the cooks worry that there won’t be enough variety of meats, since they haven’t had the time for the butchering, but they are doing the best they can. They have all of the charnok preparing the wine, and if there is enough to drink, I am confident no one will fault the menu.” Lillia turned around and clapped her hands together to dust them off. “Now, please, eat up,” she said, admonishing Kate. “There is still much we need to do before you’re ready.”

  Chapter 6

  Iron chandeliers stuffed with fat candles dangled from the ceiling like hungry spiders, imbuing the cavernous room with a warm glow. Whitewashed stone walls were festooned with lengths of blue and golden fabric. Rows of stout wooden tables marked off the room’s perimeter, with enough seating for a hundred or more people, and were arranged to leave an open space in the center. Music spilled from one corner of the room, and laughter and conversation filled every table and corner.

  Dozens of men and women had arrived before Kate, and now they either sat along the narrow tables or stood in tight bunches, engaged in animated conversation. As she watched them, she was awed by the display of elaborate clothing and jewelry. Most of the men wore tunics of rich brocade and velvet, with broad shoulders and wide sleeves, over knitted leggings and pointy embroidered slippers. The women, meanwhile, wore long gowns with fitted bodices decorated with colorful needlework. Both men and women wore bright rings, chains and brooches of silver, and nearly everyone wore their hair long, the women pulling it off their shoulders and adorning it with flowers or combs, while the men neatly secured their hair either in ponytails tied with silk cords, or tightly bound in a queue.

  Kate wore a gown of stiff green and silver brocade, with sleeves that were attached by ribbons to the bodice, all layered over a spotless white linen shift. Her body had been spritzed with fragrant water, and Lillia had performed miracles with Kate’s shoulder-length auburn hair, sweeping it up into a pair of tight braids secured to the base of her neck with curved combs. While there was no makeup as Kate knew it, still Lillia had used a bit of powder on her cheeks and a thin brush and a pot of what looked like ink to line her eyes. Kate’s only regrets were that there was no mirror to view her transformation, nor a camera to record it for posterity.

  Never before had she felt so entirely out of place. This was a world so different from her own that it was impossible to take it all in. As she absently chewed on her thumbnail, she watched a young man leaning suggestively towards a girl whose bland smile and hands folded in front of her, along with regular glances to one side, indicated she spoke to him out of politeness rather than romantic interest. A table over, two men were loudly laughing at something told to them by a third man, who appeared already drunk and unable to stand without leaning against the table.

  She wished that Rynar, that man she had met earlier, had accompanied her here. Instead, her escort had been a teenaged boy who couldn’t muster the courage to speak to her. As soon as they had passed through the double doors of the hall, he led her to a table and then promptly disappeared, folding into a cluster of boys his age across the room. Now, not knowing what else to do, and feeling unusually overwhelmed by the situation, she sat quietly in her seat, dragging her fingertips against the rough fabric of her gown.

  What was she expected to do now?

  She gazed down at her ring, wondering if it would begin to glow again if she removed it now. Hiding it in the folds of her gown, she slid the ring off. Nothing happened. The mysterious beam of light was gone, and again it seemed to be an ordinary ring. She wondered if her mother knew anything about it—had she any idea what the ring could do? Kate might never know the answer to that question. With a frustrated sigh, she put the ring back on and returned to staring out at the sea of strangers.

  Not all of the guests were complete strangers to her, of course. The Vosira and his wife Bryll sat at another table close to her own, though Kate doubted it would be appropriate for her to skip over and engage in small talk as if they were old friends. Instead, she watched Vosira Bedoric drain his goblet and wait for a boy standing behind him to refill it. From what she could see, the boy’s entire job was that single task, and it appeared he would not remain idle for long. Bryll, on the other hand, was preoccupied with the antics of their son, who was alternating between fidgeting in his chair and banging a metal platter against the tabletop. Her beauty and grace presented such a contrast to her husband that it was a bit shocking. Bedoric might have been handsome in his youth, but it seemed that the allure of rich food and drink had put on the pounds and contributed to his sloppy habits.

  A newcomer interrupted her casual observation of the royal couple. A young woman with flushed cheeks and chestnut hair already escaping its braid took a seat across from her.

  “Good eve, Uncle Tashin,” the girl said, her voice a bit winded, as if she had rushed to the hall.

  Kate whipped her head around. While her attention had been focused elsewhere, she hadn’t noticed that Tashin, the man from breakfast with the snide manners and bad teeth, had already taken a seat beside her.

  “About time you arrived,” he greeted the girl with a sour frown.

  “Sorry, uncle,” the girl said, her eyes downcast. Then she turned to Kate and her expression brightened. “Well hello!” she said in greeting. “I’m Arwyn. Are you new to Loraden? I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before.”

  “Bhara Kate is a guest of the Aldrish,” Tashin explained, as if the fact already bored him. "Apparently that fact granted her a seat at our table."

  “Really? A guest of the Aldrish?” Arwyn suppressed a giggle with the back of her hand as she pronounced the title. “Surely not?”

  “Why’s that funny?” Kate looked at Arwyn and then to Tashin.
“He seems nice enough.”

  Arwyn leaned across the table. “That’s true, but,” the girl shifted her eyes to one side and then the other, and then asked in a conspiratorial whisper, “just how well do you know him?”

  “Not that well at all, actually. I’m new here, and I just met him. Why?”

  Arwyn glanced at her uncle, and then grinned. “Oh, good, then perhaps you won’t mind me asking. Is it true what everyone says about him?” She took Kate’s confused expression as a sign to continue, keeping her voice low. “It’s common knowledge that the Aldrish never associates with women. You rarely even see him speaking to any of the Bharani here, and when he does, certainly it never goes further than that. In fact, more than once I’ve heard that he…” she paused for effect, “hmm, how should I say it? That he… prefers men.”

  Even though she had spoken softly, somehow her uncle overheard the gossip. “Girl, hold your tongue!” Tashin snapped. “Or shall I assume you are actively trying to fall into disfavor at court?”

  “Oh uncle, you’ve heard it too. Everyone has,” Arwyn said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t tell me you never wondered about it.”

  He glared at her, and was about to reply when Bhagal Abranir approached him with a question.

  Tashin suitably distracted, Arwyn explained, “Don’t you worry about my uncle. He takes everything so seriously, but his bark is worse than his bite—most of the time anyway. But tell me, do you think what they say about the Aldrish could be true?”

  “Well, I can’t say either way.” Kate’s mind flicked through the brief memories she had of him. There really hadn’t been time to judge his character in general, much less something like this—as if it mattered anyway. All she could muster was a weak, “I don’t really know him that well.”

  “See? And I doubt you ever will, either,” Arwyn concluded with a wink, and tipped back her head with a giggle. That received a stern glance from Tashin, even as he continued his own conversation. She grinned, and then, as if to redeem herself, she quickly changed topics. “Where’s the Dosedra?” she asked the pair of men. “Everyone's been talking about his miraculous return all day, and I can't wait to see him. Is he not planning to attend his own quantrill?”