By Moonrise Read online

  Tashin leaned back. “Bhagal Abranir was asking me the same thing,” he said, as Abranir nodded once and turned back to his own seat. “I was told he would arrive before his brother, but it appears he is late—just as one might expect.” He rolled his eyes. “Indeed, that assumes I expect anything from him at all, which I do not.”

  “That seems a bit harsh,” Kate replied.

  His eyes widened. “Indeed, Bhara? Do you know something about the Dosedra that you have not told us?”

  “No, but it seems to me that everyone’s being really hard on someone whose only crime is not being dead.”

  Her response made Tashin laugh. Well, it wasn’t so much a laugh as a fluttering of his thin lips and a choked sound from his throat. “You are a stranger here, and know nothing of our history or the relationship between the Vosira and his brother.” He stared at her for a moment, as if examining her more closely. “A piece of advice—don’t get involved in this matter.”

  “I don’t intend to. I made a comment, that’s all.”

  “And, uncle, say what you want about him, I still can’t wait to see what he’s like.” Arwyn glanced in Kate’s direction and then held her hand over her mouth to stifle another giggle. “I wonder if he’s handsome, or if he’s fat like his brother.” With Arwyn’s comment, Kate’s own eyes darted to the Vosira. Between speaking to a long line of people greeting him, and giving orders to his servants, he drained his cup without stopping to wipe drops of wine that dribbled down his chin.

  Meanwhile, Arwyn’s uncle narrowed his eyes at her. “Hush, girl. You really must learn how to speak with more respect, or else remain silent. Your constant gossiping will only embarrass us both, and likely get at least one of us in trouble with the Vosira.”

  Rather than reply, Arwyn tipped her head back and let out a dramatic sigh, and then turned so she faced into the crowd, with her back to her uncle.

  “Oh good grief, girl.” Tashin snorted and then, shaking his head in frustration, left his own seat to speak to a man at another table.

  Kate admitted to herself that she had shared a general curiosity about both men. Aldrish Rynar had certainly been kind, but she had sensed a bit of hesitation, as if he didn’t feel entirely comfortable talking to her. Meanwhile, the Dosedra’s mysterious reappearance had been popular gossip, but no one knew anything about him or why he had returned. From the little Lillia was willing to say (for she remained largely tight-lipped about the whole thing), conjecture was rampant.

  Arwyn’s exclamation broke her train of thought. “Quinsa! I haven’t had any in ages.”

  A young man was at Kate’s side, filling her goblet with a blue liquid. “You mean the wine?”

  “Of course. It’s made from gaminberries, so it isn’t served often. I heard it was the Dosedra’s favorite.”

  Kate swirled it around, feeling a bit skeptical about consuming a bright blue wine—all she could think of were the slushie drinks that stained your lips and tongue blue. After watching Arwyn, and ascertaining that this quinsa did not have the same effect, she took a small sip. By allowing the beverage to roll on her tongue, she concluded that the slightly bitter flavor was actually quite pleasant, almost more like a Belgian ale than a wine, and she tipped the goblet back.

  “Careful—quinsa is much stronger than regular wine,” Arwyn advised. “It will make your head ache if you drink it too fast.”

  Smiling, and taking her new friend’s advice, she set the cup down reluctantly, realizing that as tasty and refreshing as it was, she would likely end up drinking far too much of it. It was at this moment that young men presented the first trays of food to those seated at their table. There were slabs of meat and roasted fowl, a doughy meat-filled pie, and crumbly cheese, along with roasted vegetables, breads and rolls glazed with honey. Kate found herself wanting to try a little bit of everything.

  Meanwhile, Tashin returned, and his fingers toyed with the knife that lay before him on the table. “So, Bhara Kate,” he said, pronouncing her name sharply, as if taking a bite from an apple. “Perhaps you might explain how you know the Aldrish?”

  Already annoyed by his snide tone earlier, and now forced to acknowledge him, she jerked her head in his direction. She was on the verge of speaking her mind when the Aldrish himself appeared and slid onto the bench beside her. “Bhagal Tashin, surely I need not remind you that this is a celebration, not an interrogation?” As the older man glared at him in response, she noted Rynar’s expression was smug, one of conquest.

  Before she had a chance to be questioned further, and before she had an opportunity to find out more about this strange place from Rynar, there was a flurry of movement at the Vosira’s table, with several servants, two of the Senvosra, and several courtiers all crowded around. Rynar simply leaned back, his arms crossed, and waited to see what would happen next.

  The Vosira stood up. As he did so, the boys with the trays retreated to the back of the room, men and women took their seats, the musicians put aside their instruments, and the room fell silent.

  “Welcome, Bhagali,” he began. Despite the quantity of quinsa he had already consumed, his voice was deep and quite steady. “Tonight is a very special occasion, as I bring you surprising and welcome news. For years we believed Dosedra Arric, my brother, had died in Froida. Tonight I am happy to announce that the news was wrong, and my brother is still alive!”

  Although the information was scarcely a surprise to anyone, many people whispered comments to one another as they heard the news confirmed.

  The Vosira continued. “I have gathered everyone here on such short notice to congratulate my dear brother on his return to Sarducia after a long and difficult military campaign in Froida.” He showed none of the uncertainty or nervousness of the morning, which surprised Kate. Perhaps the wine emboldened him? “Without any further delay, allow me to be the first to welcome home the son of Parmon, my brother, Dosedra Arric.” He turned, and extended his hands in greeting, though the gesture was unmistakably languid.

  As he gestured towards the doors, the musicians broke out in a lively tune as two liveried men pulled open the double doors to admit the newcomer.

  It was the Dosedra. The royal prince everyone had believed dead.

  He entered the room with his head held high, a serious expression on his face. The response from the crowd was mixed. While the majority pounded on tables in welcome, some—like Tashin—remained silent. Everyone watched as the Dosedra embraced his brother, though the gesture was both formal and dispassionate.

  Kate compared the two royal sons. The Dosedra was several years younger than his brother, perhaps in his early 30s, but they shared a remarkable resemblance. The men both had long, dark wavy hair, though oddly only the younger man’s hair was dusted with silver. They also shared the same strong cleft chin and straight nose, though the Dosedra’s face was marred by two heavy scars, one across his forehead and another that followed the line of his chin. Setting himself further apart from his brother and other men in the room, the Dosedra had eschewed a stylish brocade tunic in favor of a pale blue linen shirt with full sleeves and embroidery on the cuffs and neckline, over which was a leather doublet in deep blue. Whether the choice was born from ignorance of Loraden fashion or defiance of it, his clothing nonetheless showed off his robust build, which, as a soldier, was slender and muscular.

  The Dosedra then took a step back. In a voice that was similar to Bedoric’s, both deep and confident, he greeted his brother. “My lord Vosira, and my dear brother, it is good to be back in Loraden, among both family and friends.”

  “Aye, brother,” Bedoric replied. “It has been a long time indeed since you have graced the great hall. It is our honor to welcome you home, and celebrate your safe return.”

  “Indeed. I wish to thank you and the lovely Bhavosa for this wondrous quantrill, and the opportunity to reconnect with old acquaintances. I apologize for giving you so little advance warning to plan such an event.” It was a generous comment, but to Kate’s ears it sound
ed almost sarcastic, as did his next statement. “For the future, I look forward to a long career in your service and the opportunity to start a family, here at home.” He bowed his head. When he did so, a lock of hair pulled loose and curled just above his eyebrow. “Thank you again, brother. It is good to be back in Loraden.”

  The Vosira nodded once, but did not smile. “Aye, brother.” He paused, and then raised his goblet over his head. “Á Dosedra!” he shouted, and the room clamored in repetition. Then, as quickly as that, he flicked his right wrist in the direction of the musicians, signaling them to continue with the entertainment, and with his left hand motioned for his serving boy to bring more quinsa.

  Stepping from the table, the Dosedra began a circuit of the room, pausing at each table, starting across the room from the table at which she was seated. Each of the men nodded to him in respect, and she guessed they were introducing themselves or wishing him well, but rarely did any of the men display genuine joy in seeing him. In contrast, a number of the women, particularly but not exclusively the younger ones, smiled and blinked their eyes at him as he approached, vying for his attention without speaking directly to him.

  After a few minutes it dawned on her that every action seemed scripted, each individual carefully enacting their role based on unspoken protocols. The only time there was any variance was when the Dosedra approached a few of the older men, who actually had short conversations with him, though the content of each chat was lost under the volume of the music.

  Eventually the Dosedra approached their table. Arwyn squirmed a bit in anticipation; in response, her uncle placed a firm hand on her shoulder. Kate decided the girl was perhaps a little nervous, but primarily curious. As the Dosedra bowed to those at her table, Kate was surprised how ordinary he appeared. He might have been passably handsome as a youth, but years of life outdoors had left his face darkened and damaged, with the prominent scars and deep lines at the edges of his eyes.

  He first recognized Tashin, offering him his hand without invitation.

  “Welcome, Dosedra. You are well?” the grey-haired man muttered, his brief statement notable for its insincerity.

  “Aye, Bhagal Tashin, I am indeed. I hope you are also in good health?” His tone and minimal inflection suggested that like Tashin’s, his words were purely formulaic.

  Tashin then nodded and gestured towards Arwyn. “You are acquainted with my sister’s girl, Bhara Arwyn?”

  The Dosedra nodded to the girl and then smiled, causing her to lower her head slightly, though Kate saw a slight hiccup in the girl’s shoulders. It was obvious that the slight attention had pleased Arwyn, and this made Kate smirk. “You were much shorter the last time we met,” he said to the girl with a wink, and that caused her to giggle. Then he raised his chin a bit as he addressed the man beside Kate. “Aldrish.”

  Rynar still sat with his arms crossed, something no other man in the room had dared. The other men had responded with appropriate deference, but not Kate’s companion. “Dosedra,” he replied smoothly, with an exaggerated nod of his head.

  For a second the Dosedra’s eyes snagged Kate’s, but he did nothing to acknowledge her, and she realized he was doing nothing more than registering her presence and calculating whether she was worthy of his time. No one introduced her, and before she could summon up the courage herself, he moved on, nodding to two more men before stiffly stepping back to his brother’s table.

  As the Dosedra took his seat to the left of his brother, she wondered if others recognized the strained relationship between the two men. This was a royal celebration, a prince returning from war. Yet to her everything seemed ‘off.’ Although she already knew the Vosira was concerned about his brother’s return, she had not expected that it would be so obvious. Then again, she sensed it was mutual. She watched as the Dosedra ignored the food and wine served to him, and instead sat with his arm propped up on the table and his chin resting on his hand, his eyes taking in the crowd before him.

  The Bhavosa reached over to tug on her husband’s sleeve, and he laughed, pushing back his chair. Then they slipped away from the table and into the center of the room to join the dancers. Yet the Dosedra remained seated. For someone who had returned home triumphantly, she thought he looked rather uncomfortable, and rather than enjoy himself, it seemed that he struggled to look amused and attentive to the conversations of those around him. No matter what he did, there was an air of sadness and uneasiness hovering over him. She could understand why the Vosira might be uncomfortable with his brother’s return, but it seemed less clear why the Dosedra would share those sentiments. If he didn’t want to be here, why had he returned at all?

  She looked to Rynar for an explanation, but he had disappeared. Annoyed, she turned to Arwyn.

  Her new acquaintance shared her observations. “He looks rather miserable, don’t you think? I wonder why he’s not happy to finally be home, after being gone for so many years.”

  Kate nodded, relieved to share this insight with her new friend. “Yeah, I heard about that, and I was thinking the same thing.”

  “Uncle, what’s wrong with the Dosedra? This is his quantrill, after all. I heard he used to be a great dancer.”

  “Don’t be rude,” Tashin replied. “Anyway, he’s entitled to do as he pleases, I suppose, even if it does make the Vosira look foolish. After all, Bedoric went to some considerable effort—and expense, I might add—to put together a quantrill in less than a day.”

  “But is he not glad to be home?” Arwyn asked. “I don’t see why anyone would be unhappy to come home after spending years on a battlefield!”

  “Aye, well, you’re just a girl. You wouldn’t understand such things. Really, Arwyn, you should mind your manners and not ask such impertinent questions.”

  Arwyn made her now-familiar pouty face and spun around to watch the increasing number of couples who had drifted into the center of the room to dance.

  Again Tashin leaned closer to Kate, who wished he would likewise pay more attention to the dancing. “The girl does have a point, you know. After so much time, and after everything that he did, it is probably best that he not revel in it.” He exhaled sharply, causing her to lean away as he spoke to her, a combination of annoyance that he shut down Arwyn’s conversation only to try to prod her into discussing the same topic, and revulsion at his terrible breath. “Even when he was a boy I could see it in his attitude. I knew that one day he’d bring shame upon us all.” He frowned and shook his head. “I can scarcely believe that a Sarducian prince would turn his back on his own men. I’d just as soon banish him permanently rather than pretend to celebrate false accomplishments. But what’s done is done, I suppose.”

  When he finished his rant, Kate nodded politely, unsure what to say in response. Instead, she turned her attention back to the dance floor. As she watched, a blonde woman approached the Dosedra, leaning over the table as she spoke to him. As she watched, they engaged in a lively conversation for several minutes, and then he stepped around the table. Clearly not everyone was afraid of the returning prince.

  “Oh look, he’s going to dance,” Arwyn exclaimed.

  “Aye, it appears so. Girl, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll be out there shortly as well,” Tashin chided her. “I see Charnok Ulnar watching you. It would not be good to keep him waiting on you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, very well, Uncle.” As she sprung, quite unladylike, from her seat, Tashin leaned towards Kate again. “Ulnar has favored her all summer. She’s getting quite old to still be unwed, so it would be best for her to make him happy.”

  Old? Could Arwyn even be sixteen? She shook her head and contemplated her goblet of quinsa.

  ***

  A few minutes later, a hand on her shoulder made her jump.

  “Shall we dance, Kate?” It was Aldrish Rynar. Giving her no chance to protest, he took her hand led her to the center of the room.

  “Do not concern yourself with the steps,” he suggested as they waited for the music t
o begin. “Just move as I do, and watch those around you.” Still holding her hand, he turned to his left, and she to her right, so that they faced the same direction behind several other couples, and from there the dance moved them rapidly around the circumference of the room. Several times she had to circle around another dancer, including the attractive Pyrsac, who flashed her a wide smile, and once, Bhavosa Bryll, who gave her a friendly nod of approval.

  “You are a quick learner,” Rynar observed as they stood in place to repeat the first section of the dance. “I’m quite impressed.”

  “I’ve always liked dancing,” she replied, smiling at the handsome man who took such an interest in her.

  “Ah, I am pleased to hear it,” he said, as the music ended. “Then I can convince you to try another?”

  The next dance not only caused them to pass close by others on the floor, but forced them to change partners several times as they worked their way through a line of dancers, which by now included nearly every able-bodied man and woman at the quantrill. Following that one was a dance that brought the couples nose to nose a number of times, causing a lot of giggles throughout the crowd. For a fleeting moment, as she and Rynar spun around, she thought she spied the Dosedra looking in her direction, but she turned away too fast to be sure.

  Several dances later, and slightly out of breath, they escaped the crowd, sitting at the edge of the room away from the musicians, where it was slightly easier to talk.

  Rynar nodded to a servant who brought two goblets of quinsa. “This is better than enduring old Tashin, is it not?” he asked with a wink as he handed one of the goblets to her.

  “He’s not that bad, is he?” she lied out of politeness, but rolled her eyes with a smile.