Eventually we left the main road that would have taken us to Faelyn Market if we followed it the next hundred miles straight north. Instead, we turned in a northwesterly direction along a badly kept track, and headed toward the forested lands on the borders of Auburn, Faelyn, and Tregonia.
Bryan was the one who demanded a halt, which I knew Damien and I both appreciated. I was determined not to be the one to slow the party down, so I had not volunteered the information that I was thirsty and in need of some private moments behind a bush. But I was not in as sad a case as Damien, who was unused to traveling. Bryan himself rarely ventured beyond the castle for an overnight expedition; when he did, he traveled in luxury, and Damien rode along in the coach. The rest of us were more used to the saddle.
“We’ll have a few bites to eat, then, while we’re stopped,” Jaxon said, and passed around hard rolls fresh from the kitchens. Damien took a small bite from Bryan’s bread at least ten minutes before Bryan would touch it; since he did not clutch his belly and fall to the ground, Bryan ate the rest of it.
Jaxon watched this with interest. “At the formal meals—yes, I understand that any number of people could pour poison into your food,” he said to the prince. “But here? We’re in the middle of the wilderness! No one around for miles!”
“Cooks in the kitchen have been traitors before this,” Bryan said darkly. “And everyone in the castle knew we planned to set out today. Anyone could have snuck into the bakery to fold poison into my bread.”
Kent had flung his long thin body to the ground, and now he lounged on the fading summer grasses. “And you yourself have carried the food around in your saddlebag all day,” he observed to Jaxon. “Plenty of opportunity there to do away with your future king.”
Bryan scowled at his cousin. “I didn’t mean to say Jaxon—”
“Oh, why not? I’m as likely as the next man to murder you,” Jaxon said cheerfully. “I just didn’t realize you suspected.”
Bryan’s frown grew blacker. “It’s not funny,” he insisted. “Do you know how many kings and princes have been done away with by treachery? My own father had a taster every day of his life—”
“And died when an edgy stallion threw him, so where’s the moral there?” Jaxon asked. “He’d have done better to worry less about spies in the kitchen and more about how to hold on to his horse.”
Bryan was furious now. “He—My father was a wonderful rider!” he exclaimed. “My father could outrace you any day of the week! He could ride any horse in the stable! Yes, and the wild stallions they brought in from Tregonia, my father could tame those in a day—”
Kent came to his feet, giving my uncle a level look. “Jaxon was only teasing you,” Kent said, putting an arm briefly around his cousin’s shoulders. Bryan shook him off. “Everyone knows what a gifted rider your father was. Also a great hunter. And a swordsman. The horse was lunatic. Everyone said so.”
“Yes, and the head groom shot it that very afternoon,” Bryan said. “It deserved to die.”
I hadn’t known this story. I felt sorry for the horse, but sorrier for Bryan, who still looked both angry and forlorn. I stepped closer to him, trying to think of some way to soothe him. “Are you much like your father, Bryan?” I asked. “You ride and hunt so well yourself. Do you resemble him? What was he like?”
He turned to me eagerly, pushing back that deep red hair. “Yes, everyone says so, I look exactly as he did when he was my age. My fencing instructor also taught my father, and he says I hold my sword just the way my father did. He says I make the same mistakes, too—but they are not many!”
Again, I caught that exchange of glances between Kent and my uncle, which annoyed me to no end. Did they have no conception of how hard it must be to be the young prince, trying to live up to the shadow of a dashing king, and watched on all sides for any sign of weakness or inability? I thought he should be encouraged, not baited. So as we mounted our horses again, I rode alongside Bryan for the next few hours, asking him questions and listening with unfeigned pleasure to his answers. I told myself that Elisandra would not mind; she had heard all his stories before, and she would want him to be happy on this ride. I knew that I had achieved the pinnacle of happiness myself.
We took a longer break at noontime, though this rest passed without incident. By this time, we were within sight of the forest, the great dark cluster of woods that spread from the river in every direction.
“Slower going once we’re in the forest,” Jaxon observed, bringing us all to a halt. “We’ll ride as far as we can, though we might get knocked about by a few low branches. Eventually we’ll have to walk.”
“How far in the forest before we reach the river?” Kent wanted to know.
“The rest of the day, I imagine, and we might not reach it by nightfall,” Jaxon said. “Best not to, in any case. You don’t want to be camping by the Faelyn River more than one night. Not in these woods.”
“Why not?” Bryan demanded.
Jaxon gave him a sidelong look. “Aliora,” he said. “They’d steal you as soon as we would steal them.”
Bryan sat up straighter on his horse, laying his hand upon his sword hilt. “I’m not afraid of a few scrawny aliora,” he said. “If one came to me in the middle of the night—”
“She wouldn’t try to win you away with brute force,” Jaxon said mildly. “She’d whisper in your ear—crazy things, lovely things—she’d paint you a picture of Alora so beautiful you would weep to be taken there. How many times have I woken in the middle of the night to see my hunting companions leaping to their feet, their faces covered with tears, and watched them go running across the Faelyn River no matter how I called to stop them? Charm and seduction are the weapons the aliora use on men. Your sword doesn’t stand a chance against them.”
We were all mesmerized by now. “Have you ever had an aliora whisper in your ear, Uncle Jaxon?” I asked.
He laughed. “Often and often. But I know how to protect myself. And as for letting one of them touch me—ah, that’s the fatal mistake to avoid, boys!—it’s never happened. None of them has ever laid a hand upon my head.”
Bryan’s eyes were huge. “What happens if they touch you?”
Jaxon turned slowly to look at him. “You don’t know? You came hunting aliora, and you don’t know the dangers? If an aliora touches you with the least little tip of her finger, you will be enchanted. You will rise to her call, you will answer to the sound of her voice, you will follow her across the river though you drown, though you never return to your family and your loved ones. If she lays her hand across your cheek . . .” He put his palm upon my face and, against my will, I leaned toward him, hypnotized. “If she feels the bone of your face with the flat of her hand, you will be dazzled—you will think of nothing else but her. She will put a fever in your blood that nothing can cure. You will splash across the river to Alora and never be heard from again.”
There was a profound silence when he finished speaking. I felt half-bewitched myself, and it was only Jaxon who had touched me. Kent was the first one to shake off the mood.
“But we have aliora all over the castle, and we touch them all the time,” he said practically. “There’s no magic in their hands.”
Jaxon pulled away from me and turned to look at Kent. “Their magic is inhibited once the golden cuffs are placed around their wrists,” he said. “They can’t abide the touch of any metal, but gold most especially. That is why I warned all of you to wear gold talismans—to protect yourself against the touch of the aliora. Did you do as I told you? Will you be safe?”
Damien and I instantly felt around our necks to pull out necklets and medallions of the finest gold. Kent extended his right hand, where he wore a fat signet ring bearing the Ouvrelet family’s crest. Bryan wore a haughty look and displayed no such amulet.
“I’m not afraid of the aliora,” he said proudly. “I wore nothing.”
Jaxon quickly smothered an expression of irritation. “I brought a couple of extra wrist
bands, you can wear one of them.”
“No,” Bryan said, shaking his head, “I need no protection against the lures of the aliora. I am the prince. I am not afraid.”
“Well, and you’ll have very little to be afraid of, out here on the edge of the forest,” Jaxon agreed. “Though at times the aliora do venture out this far, but rarely at this time of year—”
Bryan’s face darkened. “What do you mean? If you think—”
“I think I’m head of this expedition, and responsible to your uncle for your well-being, and that if you don’t wear a gold talisman into the forest, and keep it on, you’re not riding in any party of mine.”
Bryan balled a hand into a fist. “And I say we ride on! You cannot tell me what to do! I am the prince, and I—”
Jaxon turned his back on him to address Kent. “Your cousin is very wearying,” he said. “Everybody mount up! We’re heading back to the castle.”
Dead silence greeted this pronouncement, broken only by the jingle of Jaxon swinging back into his saddle. On horseback, he looked down at us. “Well? Mount up. Time to head home.”
I found my voice first. “Uncle Jaxon!” I cried. “No! You promised. You said you would take me to the river to see the aliora—”
He kept one hand on his reins and spread the other in a gesture of futility. “And I’d like to, but not unless the prince is safeguarded. You and I will return some day, Corie. Just the two of us. Things will go more smoothly then.”
I turned to Bryan beseechingly, but Kent had moved faster. “Put on the damn bracelet and try not to ruin everything,” he said in a rough voice, punching Bryan on the shoulder. “Jaxon’s right, and you know it. My father would hang all five of us if something happened to you in the forest. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for Corie. There’s some honor in being gracious for a lady.”
Bryan turned a smoldering look on his cousin, but Kent ignored him. “Give me the wristband,” Kent demanded of Jaxon, and Jaxon handed it over. It was a thick cuff, hinged at the middle and closed with a key, looking like nothing so much as a shackle. This was not an ornamental piece of jewelry; this was a fetter that would be clamped to the wrist of any aliora we happened to catch in the wild. “Hold out your hand,” Kent said.
“I’m not wearing that,” Bryan said through clenched teeth.
“Then we go home,” Jaxon said.
“Put it on,” Kent said, grabbing for Bryan’s arm.
Bryan slapped him away and danced backward. “I’m not wearing that—that slave’s chain,” he said more loudly. “I will wear gold, since Jaxon insists, but I will not dress like a prisoner.”
On the instant, I had stripped my own necklace from around my throat. It was a flat, heavy piece, a gift from Elisandra, and I rarely went without it. “Oh, Bryan, please, would you wear my necklet? I’ll wear the wristband—I don’t mind.”
Kent turned on me impatiently. “You shouldn’t have to—”
But Bryan interrupted. “I will be glad to,” he said in a stiff voice, and made me a small, formal bow. “I will accept the loan of the lady’s favor. I would not want to deprive her of the pleasures of our sojourn into the forest.”
I was instantly suffused with relief and exultation. Bryan to wear my necklace! And to return it, alive with the scent of his body! I had never been so happy to lend an object in my life. He even allowed me to fasten the chain about his neck, stooping a little so that I could close the clasp under the fall of his red hair. When he straightened, he bowed a second time, a little more fluidly.
“My thanks, kind lady,” he said, and gave me the smallest smile.
I turned back to Kent, who fastened the band around my arm. The gold felt sleek and rich against my skin, though the hinge scraped unpleasantly against my wristbone. I twisted it to a more comfortable position and gave Kent a blinding smile. He shook his head and grinned slightly in response.
Jaxon swung back to the ground, a most sardonic expression on his face. “Well, that’s all nicely settled, then,” he said. “Can we continue on with our journey?”
And then a most unexpected voice spoke up, slightly apologetic but more than a little ironic. “Sorry, noble sirs and lady,” Roderick said, “but I didn’t come equipped with gold. It hasn’t come my way that often,” he added, and I could have sworn I saw a hint of laughter in his hazel eyes.
I turned on him, reproof on my face and tears starting to overrun my eyes. “Oh, Roderick!” I cried, using his name for the first time. “How could you not tell us till now?”
He shrugged. “The king will not care so much if I’m snatched by the aliora,” he said. “I don’t mind risking the ride into the forest unprotected.”
But Jaxon was rooting through his saddlebags again. “Nonsense, I came prepared to reap a bountiful harvest,” he said, and pulled out a second shackle. He held it out to Roderick with a huge grin on his face. “Now you too can be a slave in the service of Coriel,” he said. “I trust it doesn’t offend your sensibilities.”
Roderick was grinning back as he snapped the fetter in a most businesslike way about his wrist. “I have none to offend, sir,” he said. “Thank you kindly.”
Jaxon swept the whole group with one comprehensive look. “Any more surprises?” he demanded. We all shook our heads. “All right, then! Into the forest!”
The track into the woods was much narrower than the road we had followed so far, though wide enough for two to ride abreast. Bryan, of course, waited for no one; he was the brave young prince, he wanted to show us all the way. Jaxon grinned and guided his horse in next. I found Kent beside me as I first rode into the green shadows of the wood.
“So how are you enjoying yourself so far?” he asked, ducking a little to avoid a low-hanging branch.
“Oh, it’s wonderful! Better than I had even hoped! Three days with—” I stopped abruptly and shot him a sideways look.
“Three days without hearing the dulcet tones of Lady Greta,” he completed suavely. “Yes, I can see where that would improve your life somewhat.”
“I don’t blame her for not liking me,” I said fairly. “But to tell you the truth, I don’t think she likes anyone except Elisandra.”
“That’s because producing Elisandra was the most significant thing she’d done in her entire life,” Kent said with an edge of cynicism. “A Halsing daughter! She’d fulfilled her destiny.”
This made no sense to me. “Why would she be so interested in bearing a Halsing daughter?”
“Because men of the royal family traditionally marry women of the Halsing line. It has happened for generations. And with Jaxon himself so adamant against marrying, it fell to Greta and your father to perform that particular duty.” He looked at me again, a sleepy smile in his gray eyes. “And then, who could believe the luck? Your father produced two daughters.”
I could not restrain my laughter. Jaxon glanced back at me but did not pause to ask what the joke was. “Oh, yes, the royal court was glad to learn the news about me,” I exclaimed. “I’m exactly the sort of bride they were looking for.”
“Don’t tell me it wouldn’t be a dream come true,” Kent said, still smiling. “All the girls are mad for Bryan.”
“Bryan is betrothed,” I said a little breathlessly. “It does not matter who else adores him.”
“Bryan has always been a little willful,” Kent said dryly. “It is hard to gauge how heavily his betrothal weighs on him.”
I frowned. “What? What do you mean?” But quickly thinking it over, I understood, and frowned more severely. “Don’t say such things! You are unkind to Bryan—you and Jaxon both. You tease him when you know it will only stir up his temper.”
“It is true he has a temper, but neither of us deliberately tries to rouse it,” Kent said a little more sharply than I expected. “He is to be the king, after all. He should learn to guard his emotions a little more closely.”
“Like you, I suppose,” I said in a huff. “You’re never edgy or out of sorts.”
&
nbsp; He grinned lazily. “I am, all of the time. There is much about the way the world is ordered that does not please me at all. But I think it foolish to vent my displeasure on every poor soul who happens to cross my path.”
“Bryan does not vent—”
He flung up a hand for peace. “And Bryan is still young. I am three years older than he, and I have learned some calm in those years. Perhaps by the time he weds your sister and takes his crown, he will be ready to be a good king—still quick in temper, but quick in thought, too, and moved to easy generosity. He has a great deal of energy, which a king needs. What he lacks is the means to control it. But that may come with time.”
I gave him another sideways look, this one more considering. He was, after all, so close to the throne himself. “Do you wish you had been named king instead?” I asked him outright. Greta says I am rude; Grandmother says I have no guile. I suppose they mean the same thing. “Your father is regent for Bryan—do you wish he was regent for you?”
He looked straight ahead at the path before him. “You realize that if something were to happen to Bryan before he bore an heir, I would be king—my father abdicated all hope of the throne when he agreed to be regent. So do I wish I was to be king? That is not the question I ask myself. I ask myself, Would I be a good king? Would I be quick-witted and generous of spirit and full of that boundless energy? Or would I be clumsy and stupid and dulled by my own prejudices? I try to be a good man, since I am alive at all, and hope that that teaches me what I would need to know if I was ever faced with a higher challenge. Some days I am more successful at it than others.”
I did no such thing as sit there with my mouth open, though I may as well have, since I felt as if my mind was gaping. It had simply never occurred to me to wonder what kind of person I was, what kind of person I wanted to be. I had not envisioned this as something I had any control over, just as I could not alter the round shape of my face or the dense black curl of my hair. If I wanted to be angelic and sweet-tempered, could I achieve that? I thought my grandmother would laugh if I mentioned such a notion to her.