The Twelve Kingdoms: The Mark of the Tala Page 13

  She smiled at my denial that admitted so much else. Careless of me.

  “It doesn’t take much, especially for someone like you. This potion will help.”

  I sniffed it. As bitter as Glorianna’s had been sweet. That might actually be a good sign. “It will counteract his blood?”

  “No.”

  “What, then?”

  “It will make it easier for you to assimilate what the blood is doing to you.”

  “Then I don’t want it.”

  She refused to take the goblet I thrust back at her. “Princess Andromeda,” she said gently, the voice of someone practiced at giving bad news, “you have already started down a path you cannot retreat from. You must go forward. I offer you a way to make it less painful. That’s all I can give you.”

  “How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

  She shrugged. “How do you know anyone is? I suspect you have a talent for that.”

  “When I drank a potion in Glorianna’s chapel, for the rite of protection—I couldn’t.”

  “Not surprising. Your path does not align with those of Glorianna’s followers.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means what it means, Andromeda. You will find your own answers. Drink the potion or not—it matters not to me.”

  “What do you know of Annfwn?”

  Her serene expression tightened. “I know there are many trapped outside the borders who would benefit by being allowed in. It’s difficult for the Tala outside—and you are Tala. More with every passing night, whether you wish it or not.”

  The priestess smiled, stood, and began sliding paper packets into a leather bag.

  “But your goblet—”

  “A gift.” She shouldered her bag. “Moranu blesses you, Andromeda. Remember that. Her chapel is always open to you. Find me there, should you think of some better questions.”

  She slipped out of the room before I realized I didn’t know her name. Setting the silver goblet on a little table next to the bed, I clambered up, tangling my legs in the obnoxious pink gown. The movement made me a bit dizzy, pain pounding into the base of my neck. Not so much better, after all. I managed to stagger to the door and open it. Two surprised soldiers snapped to attention.

  The long, curving hallway was empty in both directions.

  Of course. Can’t be mysterious without a disappearing act.

  The goblet waited for me, still steaming. I could see now that the silver bore the imprints of Moranu’s moon in all four phases, moving in endless cycles around the rim. I picked it up, wrapping my chilled fingers around the welcome warmth, eyeing the doll also sitting on the little table. Glass blue eyes somber amid a tumble of black hair.

  Steeling myself against the bitterness, I drank down the potion in one long swallow.

  Amelia just loved having me visit Windroven. She happily settled in as if this was the pleasure jaunt she’d imagined, seeming to forget for long spaces of time what had driven me here.

  As soon as I emerged from my chamber, feeling much more myself, Amelia practically pounced on me and insisted on a full tour of the castle. She danced along, chattered, and showed me every nook, every pleasing feature. She did not seem to notice, however, how busily all the denizens worked.

  Or how distracted by my dark thoughts I was.

  Workers in lower rooms piled up bricks and mortar, to be used to seal accessible windows. Chains of brawny lads handed barrels of dried legumes down into the cavernous cellars. The spectacular views Amelia pointed out also showed soldiers streaming in from outlying villages to join those drilling below in the fields being harvested early. I half expected to see Ursula come striding around a corner in her fighting leathers, snapping out orders.

  Hugh was preparing for siege, indeed.

  I barely listened to my sister. Happily, she didn’t need me to do more than make the occasional admiring sound. My headache had eased but my mind still roiled. The priestess’s words kept going through my head. A path you cannot retreat from. Even Dafne had said when I first met her that I’d need to form a plan. So far I’d avoided that, letting events carry me along.

  I do not have the luxury of your inaction.

  Rayfe’s taunting words rankled. I needed to make a decision. The dread building with every preparation for battle I witnessed spurred me to do something. Worse, I felt strange changes inside me. Sometimes it seemed my skin didn’t fit right. My fingers would suddenly spasm, and I’d look down, expecting to see claws bursting forth. My spine ached, lengthening and then contracting. A fluttering sensation bubbled in my veins, and I imagined tiny black birds fledging inside me, their wings beating to break free.

  The headache might be gone, but my body was changing. Shifting into something else.

  When the rest of Amelia’s ladies arrived, Amelia went to greet them and see them settled. I slipped away and sought out Hugh.

  Wearing his jeweled armor, he held court near the still-open main gates, greeting a country lord, newly arrived with a ragtag group of rosy-cheeked workers from his estate, there to become soldiers. I could just see Ursula rolling her eyes at their inexperience. Hugh, though, asked after their skills and thanked them so graciously that they all seemed taller as they trotted off to join one of the drilling battalions.

  Hugh immediately turned to me and took my elbow to lead me away from the entrance—and the tantalizing promise of freedom. “How do you fare, Sister? You are well?”

  “Yes, Hugh, I’m fine. Nothing a little nap couldn’t cure.”

  He frowned in concern. “I pushed you all too hard in getting here. I should have taken your more delicate constitutions into account.”

  I nearly burst out laughing at that. Delicate constitutions! A little black magic and shape-shifter blood transforming me into a monster only gives a girl a little indigestion.

  “Really, Hugh, I’m fine. I’m grateful for the protection you’ve offered me—and that you got us here safely.”

  He beamed at me, so pleased to be the hero. I bit my lip, unsure how to phrase what I needed to say.

  “I’m concerned, though, that—”

  “You mustn’t be,” he broke in. “You must not fret or worry. I’ve made a promise to keep you safe, and I will. Look about you! Windroven can withstand a siege for years, if necessary, and—”

  “Years!”

  Hugh looked aghast at my outburst. I had nearly shrieked the word. Years of being confined to this castle, looking out the high windows at armies below and never leaving, never riding or feeling the grass on my skin. I felt like I had days until those thousands of birds pecking at the insides of my veins tore their way free, leaving me a dying, shredded mess.

  “I’m sorry, Hugh, but I just can’t . . . I can’t see us living under siege for years, for all these people to ruin their crops and their lives for me. For me.”

  “You’re wrong, Andi. It’s not only about you. The Twelve Kingdoms are united against this enemy. The High King will triumph once again and drive this scourge from our lands. Besides, all we have to do is hold out until the King brings his forces behind the Tala. They’ll be crushed between us.”

  “But I could stop this,” I argued, my voice weak against his ringing tones of certainty. “This is foolishness, to risk so much, when I could stop it. Wouldn’t that be the truly loyal thing for me to do? The one thing I could do for the kingdoms?”

  “No. You three are the greatest treasures of the Twelve Kingdoms. We will never give you up to them.”

  A tumult of noise announced a wagon trundling through the gate, piled high with metal armor and bristling with bundles of weapons. It stopped me from responding to that absurd statement, and Hugh’s eyes gleamed with excitement at the sight.

  “You’ll see, Sister. None shall defeat us!” He spun on his heel to survey the new weapons, and I caught his sleeve. Hugh turned back, burying his impatience with a comforting pat on my hand. “Go have tea with Amelia and relax. All will be well.”

 
“Wait—where is Moranu’s chapel? I’d like to pay a visit. With an escort, of course, and—”

  Hugh had started shaking his head before I’d finished the second sentence.

  “I can’t let you do that, Andi. Even if it wasn’t outside the walls. It doesn’t look good for you to pay homage to anyone but Glorianna, especially with this current conflict.”

  “I’ll go in secret. In disguise.”

  He shrugged me off. “It’s outside the walls. It pains me to refuse you, but it’s impossible.”

  “I could go now, before the siege begins.”

  “Ah—that’s where you’re not listening to me, Sister. The Tala have already arrived. The battle will engage by morning.”

  If nothing else, Hugh and his generals could predict the onset of battle.

  I awoke with a start in darkness. For a moment, I couldn’t be sure where I was. The muffled rhythm of surf reminded me, but the other roar had me confused. Then I remembered and sat up. The crash of arms and angry shouts tumbled outside, though I couldn’t see it. When I’d returned to my chambers after a mind-numbingly long feast the night before, I’d found my own windows bricked over, with only small slits remaining to let in air. I supposed I didn’t have to worry about Rayfe or his creatures visiting me now, though he hadn’t appeared in my dreams since our encounter outside the chapel. A good thing, I reminded myself. Though it just indicated a new phase in his strategy. My trunks had arrived, thankfully, so I pulled on my practice leathers and affixed my borrowed dagger to my belt. Even if Hugh wouldn’t let me fight, I’d be happier having better agility. My door guards trailed after me with grinning anticipation. They wanted to see the battle too. We climbed to the upper walls and found a viewing spot in the press with everyone else who lived in the castle, new and old.

  The drawbridge was up, the gates of the castle down and barred. Spilling over the mountainside around the outside walls, like a patchwork gown, were Hugh’s troops. Our defenders. No longer human looking, they formed phalanxes distinguished by flags and colors, Glorianna’s pink predominant over Avonlidgh’s purple and green. They guarded the narrow road, making ascent impossible.

  Below that, the valley teemed with an encamped army in somber colors. More streamed in from the distant forests, which had been cut back to make the fertile fields of Windroven. Fields now stripped bare of everything their owners could carry into the castle and now bearing only the fruit of Rayfe’s armies.

  How could there be so many of them?

  Perhaps their movement fooled me, for they constantly shifted, horses galloping about, manes and tails streaming along like the wild black hair of the Tala themselves. Where our troops stood in disciplined ranks, theirs tossed like an angry sea. The small ratlike creatures teemed over the ground like ants. Wolves as big as ponies wove in and out, circling the fields like a hunting pack surveying their trapped prey. Birds of all sizes, all black, clouded the skies, flocks changing direction in a flash of movement while enormous raptors soared high above.

  I imagined the birds in my blood flapping their wings in the feral desire to join them, and my fingertips burned. Refusing to look, in case claws were indeed sprouting, I scanned the assembled enemy, trying to count but somehow unable to focus on any group long enough, like clouds that dissipated if I stared too hard.

  “Who knew there are so many of the Tala? I thought they were a wild and scattered people.” I said it to myself, but one of my guards answered.

  “Black magic, Princess. ’Tis said they multiply overnight, like insects.”

  “Aye. And if you cut one down, two more grow in its place,” the other guard added.

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?” I turned my back on the unsettling sight below and assessed the two brawny men. They exchanged sidelong glances, edging slightly away from me.

  They were afraid of me. Just another creepy insect.

  “Andi! Andi, over here!”

  I followed Amelia’s voice, not caring if the guards kept up with me or not. Of course they would. They’d give their lives to protect me, a woman they couldn’t quite look in the eye, for the odd dread curling in their guts. All for a chance to prove their mettle in battle. For the glory.

  Amelia and her ladies were perched in a makeshift grandstand. Dressed in daffodil yellow, her hair flowing loose down her back, Amelia looked like rosy morning. Her ladies were all in pastels, too. Dafne sat with them, dressed like me in fighting leathers. She raised a sardonic brow at me but shifted aside so Amelia could scoot past to embrace me.

  “Hugh said you were exhausted, so we let you lie in. The battle hasn’t started yet, so you haven’t missed a thing. Why are you dressed like that? It’s not like Ursula will show up to make us practice.” She wrinkled her pretty nose, seized my hand, and pulled me to the seat next to her. “I begged Hugh to let us watch. I’m never sitting in a dark, closed-up safe room again where I can’t see what’s happening! He says it’s safe here for now, though we might have to go in later. Something about catapults. Anyway, I’m sure it will all be over soon. Did you see all of those horrible creatures? So dreadful!”

  Amelia talked when she was nervous. She wasn’t as carefree as she liked to appear, but I knew her well. She clutched my hand and chattered about Hugh, his generals, how brave they all were, and how she’d arranged for a lovely midmorning snack for us.

  The sun rose higher and beat down on us. Still nothing happened.

  Servants erected a striped silk awning over our heads. Still nothing. Even Amelia grew bored and huffed about the delay.

  The crowd on the parapets thinned as people went off to do necessary chores. Several of Amelia’s ladies begged off, citing fatigue and a desire to work on sewing. Dafne moved to sit next to me while Amelia flirted with one of Hugh’s courtiers, one of her favorite pastimes.

  “Now everyone discovers what siege is really like,” Dafne murmured.

  “You’ve been through one?”

  She nodded, face carefully blank. “My family’s castle, when I was young. Weeks of boredom punctuated by stark terror.”

  “I admit, I thought more would happen today.”

  “You’re right to dress in leathers—you never know when things will happen. Right now they have no reason to engage. Avonlidgh’s local forces are all within the bounds of Windroven, and it will be days or weeks before others can be mobilized. Patience is their weapon.”

  “And what is ours?”

  She flicked a glance at me. “Fortitude.”

  Midafternoon, something did happen. A stir ran through the field below, surrounding a streaming white pennant. Two horsemen made their way through the teeming army and halted at the bottom of the road leading up to Windroven. They waited.

  After a bit, we could make out Hugh’s glittering form, riding down the mountain on a palomino stallion. Einsly rode beside and a little behind him, carrying the flag of Avonlidgh. He glanced up and saluted us. Hugh kept focused on the men below.

  The four met, a wide circle cleared around them.

  They were far enough away now that I couldn’t make out faces, but surely the lean man on the black horse was Rayfe. His hair would be tied back for battle, so no wonder I could see no sign of it beneath his helm. Not like Hugh, in his bareheaded and confident glory.

  At one point, Rayfe offered a package to Hugh, something wrapped in a dark silk with fluttering ends. He and Einsly unwrapped and examined it, then Hugh dropped it on the ground.

  After a time, Hugh and Einsly spun their horses about and left Rayfe and his man in a cloud of dust. Rayfe dismounted, picked the thing up off the ground, brushed it off, and held it, looking up toward where I stood—though surely he couldn’t pick me out in the crowd from that distance. A fleeting headache pulsed behind my eyes. He seemed to nod at me, and tucked the package in his pocket. Then he and his man were swallowed up in the crowd on the field, white pennant folded away. Hugh and Einsly took their time winding up the road, stopping to visit with various lords and general
s. Encouraging the troops, most likely.

  With an impatient sigh, I stood. Amelia glanced up, gave me a little shrug, and returned to listening to some story about a nine-day fox hunt. Dafne went with me down to the main gates to wait for Hugh’s arrival.

  He came through a smaller door, so narrow he had to turn sideways to pass through. Einsly must have stayed in one of the outer courtyards, with the horses. Hugh’s glance flicked over us. He seemed resigned but unsurprised to see me there.

  “What did he say?” I asked without preamble. Wound in my own way, I couldn’t bear to take time with polite greetings.

  Hugh seemed to understand, though he looked pained. He took my hand in both of his, stripping off the chain-mail gloves to do it.

  “Just what you’d expect, Andi. Rayfe renewed his demands. Exactly the same. Made threats. Nothing has changed.”

  I wanted to ask him how Rayfe had looked. If he seemed angry. Or . . . something about him. A message for me. Anything. Hugh’s face revealed nothing of what he’d thought of the man. Maybe men didn’t think that way.

  Hugh sighed. “He’s promised not to attack, if that makes you feel better. He seems confident he can wait us out. So that’s where it stands.”

  “I see.” I waited. Hugh said nothing more. “What did he give you?”

  “Give me?”

  “That you threw on the ground.”

  “Ah, nothing of importance.”

  “But—”

  “Let it go, Andi.” He kissed my hand and dropped it. Suddenly he no longer looked like the cocky, handsome boy who’d walked into our court. Under the blazing confidence, he looked drawn, with shadows under his eyes.

  He looked angry. And afraid.

  10

  The other thing I learned about sieges is that it’s impossible to maintain a high state of alert for very long. And that sooner or later, people get tired of the waiting and have to do something.

  That’s when it gets ugly.

  The first night, we barely slept, waiting for the attack to come. I lay restlessly in my stuffy room, listening to the guards calling out their positions and status. A series of shouts brought me bolt upright, pulse pounding, dagger in hand. The all clears that followed spoke to my brain but not my heart, which insisted on believing only the alert, not the stand-down.