From Darkness Won (16 page)

“I can keep quiet.”

“Good. Follow me.”

Vrell led Gren all the way to the peephole that looked in on Achan’s chambers. She glanced inside and saw that the men had already put Achan in his bed. Sir Eagan was smearing something on his head. Yarrow salve, likely. Shung stood behind Sir Eagan. A young boy stood at Shung’s side.

“Is he dead, sir?” the boy asked.

“Sleeping.”

“Will he sleep forever?”

“No, Matthias,” Sir Eagan said. “He will wake when he is ready, once his body is rested.”

Vrell stepped back from the peephole, motioned for Gren to look, then reached up and felt for the stone ledge she often used for her candle. When her fingers found it, she set the candle down and leaned against the opposite wall.

“Is he well?” Sir Caleb’s voice carried through the wall.

“He should recover fully,” Sir Eagan said, “though we must make sure that he wakes every few hours.”

“He went out there to spite me,” Sir Caleb said. “If I had acquiesced, Sir Shung would have been with—”

“He is old enough to make his own choices, Caleb,” Sir Eagan said.

“But that’s just it. He makes the wrong ones. Continually. How can I stand by and let him kill himself?”

“He will not learn to make the right decisions if he is coddled.”

“I don’t mean to coddle him, but… why does he insist on his way? He is so willful.”

“He is merely trying to be a leader, I suspect.”

“It would have been better for him to disobey me outright and take Shung along. But he sneaks off alone.” Footsteps tapped over wood and echoed along the stone wall of the corridor. “I don’t know how to control him.”

“You cannot control him, Caleb. Nor should you. He needs to know that we believe in him. We must advise him, build up his confidence, not command him.”

“I never intend to command him, but I’ve seen too many hurt. Killed. It’s a cruel and brutal world. My fears are well
founded.”

“That they are,” Sir Eagan said, “but your fears will not give him the insight of experience. He must learn that for himself. I daresay the headache he will wake with will teach him a strong lesson in heeding your advice in the future.”

“But he didn’t learn from the cham attack.” More footsteps. “Why is Vrell here? I thought you said she was going to Allowntown.”

Vrell nudged Gren away from the peephole and looked inside.

Sir Eagan put the lid on a jar. “I never said I knew where she was going.”

“Someone said it. Perhaps Gavin. I don’t understand why she’s here. And dressed so well. You spoke with her. What did she say?”

“Only to give me her assessment of the prince’s injury.”

“Should we be concerned about her? It’s good she left, don’t you think? I don’t want her becoming a distraction now that the prince is betrothed to Lady Averella.”

Sir Eagan turned away from Sir Caleb, faced the peephole, and winked. “Ah, Caleb. I would not worry about Vrell Sparrow. Arman will work through her thick skull in his timing. All will be well.”

Vrell pursed her lips. Sir Eagan knew of the secret passages as well? If Mother continued to tell people, they would no longer be a secret.

Sir Eagan drew a blanket over Achan’s waist and walked to the doors. “We must let the prince sleep. At least
two hours
.” He winked in Vrell’s direction again. “Sir Shung, stand outside and let no one enter. Come Caleb, let us take this discussion elsewhere. Matthias, you as well.”

The men and the boy left.

Vrell nudged Gren. “Come.”

She inched down the corridor, running her hand along the wall until her fingers felt the crack in the surface. She slid the panel open. Lamplight streamed through the doorway. She ducked inside and tugged her dress past the narrow opening. Gren followed, and Vrell slid the panel closed.

Vrell hurried to Achan’s bed and sat on the edge. His skin had purpled over his right temple. Sir Eagan’s yarrow salve had slicked his hair flat around the wound. The thick paste smelled like fresh flowers. She smoothed the loose hair back off the other side of his forehead and studied his face.

What was she to do about Achan now?

“Go visit him.”

Vrell sat on Gypsum’s bed, the skirt of her peach gown billowing around her like a mushroom. “I have, Gypsum.”

Her sister sat at her embroidery frame, already half finished with a new tapestry depicting her abduction, Arne’s death, and her rescue by Achan, or as she called him, Prince Achan. How she could create new embroideries so quickly bordered on magical powers.

“He saved my life, Vrella. Those men meant to take me to Esek’s camp.”

The very idea horrified Vrell more than she cared to admit. “Truly, Gypsum, you heard them say Esek is alive?”

Gypsum glanced up from her work. “The ogre man, the one who killed Arne, he said, ‘If yer sister won’t marry the king, you will. Once she’s dead, you’ll be heir to Carm.”

Vrell’s stomach churned. “Maybe someone else is planning to be king now.”

“Vrella, are you listening?” Gypsum stood and walked to the foot of her bed. “They plan to
kill
you. Are you not concerned?”

“Not nearly as much as I am about them taking you.”

Gypsum slid her hand around the bedpost and hugged it with one arm. “Well, if you will not marry Prince Achan, I shall. I still do not wish to marry a man who loves you, and I
am
frightened of marriage, but Prince Achan is so kind and attentive… and handsome.” She straightened her arm and swung around the bedpost as if dancing. “I know he would not hurt me.”

Vrell scowled at the dreamy expression on Gypsum’s face, as if Achan were the bedpost. Her sister’s eight minutes spent alone in the company of Achan Cham had apparently made her an expert on his countenance. “Why ever would you think your husband would hurt you?”

“Well, that is what some say about their husbands.”

“Who says?”

Gypsum sat on the edge of her bed. “Halley married a soldier who is very brutal. And Meglan says that her husband only ever wants to make babies and that it hurts her but he doesn’t care. And even Havella, my maidservant, has a fresh bruise every now and then. She never said outright Marden struck her, but I can tell it was him. Oh, and Suzelle—”

Vrell wrinkled her nose. “No more, Gypsum, please. You depress me. I had no idea how many wretched men lived in Carmine.” Yet her comment brought to mind the men who had attacked Gren. She shook the thought away.

“It’s not only Carmine men. Lady Melita Thorvald married Derno Sigul of Hamonah, and he is a
hideous
man. You wouldn’t believe the things he does and says and—”

“The Siguls are pirates, Gypsum. They are hideous at birth. Really, for all your tales of horror, I can tell you as many tales of joy. Think of my Syrah. Jonol has courted her this past year and has only ever kissed her hand. And Princess Glassea and Keano Pitney.”

“But they are not yet married. Things are different then.”

“Prince Donediff and his wife, Lady Yulessa. I’ve heard from her mother that they are blissful. And Lady Katiolikan and Lord Eli seemed to get along well enough. And the priest Trajen Yorbride and his wife Ressa… They were sickly sweet to one another.”

Her sister sighed, a long, sing-song sound, and tucked a strand of Vrell’s hair behind her ear. “All I am saying is that it seems to me a smart lady would seize the chance to marry a good man.”

Gypsum’s eyes were shining. Had Vrell been so dreamy about romance at Gypsum’s age? Yes. And pining after Sir Rigil. She felt the need to give her sister some wisdom, as if she knew anything at all about romance.

“A lady should consider a man’s goodness before she agrees to be courted, not married,” Vrell said. “She should know him very well by that point.”

“And you do not dispute Prince Achan’s goodness?”

“Every man—and woman, for that matter—is capable of doing good or evil. So, yes, dear sister,
Prince Achan
is a good, kind man. But he does not follow Arman as you and I do. So when temptation comes to him—and it will—how will he choose good? That is my question of
Prince
Achan. He snuck
t
o the battlefield this morning. His idea of doing good was following his own pride. Even Mother agrees with that. Until he conquers what hinders—”

“And how did
you
come to be on the battlefield, dear sister? You dare judge his pride when your pride is equal to his? You claim to follow Arman, but still you go your own way. None of us are perfect, Vrella. Least of all you.”

“But I am trying to follow Arman.”

“You follow your own will first. Arman’s will second. And if Prince Achan hadn’t done what he did today, I would be lost to Esek. Arman used Prince Achan’s pride to put him in my path. It is not too late for Arman to make good of your bad choices either.”

The words shocked as much as a slap to the face. Heat welled up inside, for Vrell recognized the truth in Gypsum’s words, though she could not admit it aloud. “You know not what you…” Her voice hitched. “There is more to it than—”

“I am saying, sister, that I
will
marry Prince Achan should you not. And I will be happy to do it. So you had best figure out what you really want before it is too late.”

Again Vrell led Kopay through the clusters of horses and toward the exit of what remained of the stables. The fire had cost her a day. And the last time she had looked in on Bran, he and Jax’s men were already nearing the Sideros Forest.

A girl in a black dress stepped out from the shadows as Vrell approached the brand new plank doors.

Gren Fenny again. This time she clutched a burlap sack in her hands, wringing the fabric as if she might squeeze water from it. The sack twisted gently, full of something that made it bulge like a teardrop.

“Whoa, boy.” Vrell and Kopay stopped. “Good morning, Gren. You are up early. Again.”

Gren fidgeted with her bag. “I wanted to thank you for taking me to see Achan yesterday.”

“You are welcome.” Vrell eyed Gren’s sack. “I never asked why you were in the stables yesterday. You work in the kitchens, do you not?”

Gren’s face flushed. “I was going to steal a horse.”

For some reason, the very idea tickled Vrell. She giggled in spite of the seriousness of Gren’s confession. “You do not strike me as a horse thief.”

“I can’t stay here. The people of Carmine hate me.”

Vrell’s mind filled in what Gren had not said, what she knew had happened this past summer when Gren had been attacked. “They blame you for my broken betrothal. I thought Master Rennan had made an announcement.”

Gren approached until she stood right before Vrell. “He did, but some think it’s a lie, that your lady mother forced him to say it. And now that he’s gone, I won’t stay with no one to watch over me.”

Vrell stroked Kopay’s neck. “Master Rennan cares for your welfare. I am sure he would not have left you here had he believed it dangerous.”

“He didn’t say nothing like that. He said he’d be back after the war. But I don’t know what that means.”