by C. L. Wilson
Celieria ~ North of Greatwood
“Have you gone mad, Talisa? Have you lost all sense? Do you comprehend even the tiniest fraction of the gravity of your situation?”
Talisa clenched her hands at her waist as her father paced the confines of the king’s tent like a caged wolf and railed against her stupidity.
A small sel’dor ring had been her downfall. Lord Sebourne, who had been growing increasingly suspicious of the Fey as they neared the borders, had given the ring to his son as a protection against Fey magic. When Colum had caressed what he thought was his sleeping wife, the ring had passed through her shoulder, revealing her to be a Spirit weave.
Her quintet was now bound in sel’dor and under heavy guard. Two score King’s Guard had ridden into Greatwood in search of Adrial and his brother. Colum had tried to drag Talisa off to his family’s estate at Dunbarrow—insisting that only on Sebourne land would he and his family be safe from the threat of Fey retaliation—but her father had put a stop to that by going to the king. She’d been taken out of Colum’s custody and caged here, under guard, until Adrial was found and brought to the king for inquisition.
“Da…I—”
“No.” He cut her off with a slash of his hand. “Don’t say anything. Just listen. You are not some farmer’s wench who can tumble half the stable lads in her village without harm to any reputation but her own. You are the daughter of the great House Barrial. Wed to the heir of another great House. Third in rank to a princess of Celieria. When you commit adultery, it’s a matter of consequence! When you commit adultery with an envoy from another nation, it’s a matter of state! And when you compound your adultery with the manipulation of your husband’s mind in direct violation of the Fey-Celierian alliance, you turn your lust into a crime punishable by death. Colum and Sebourne have already demanded the heads of vel Arquinas and every warrior involved in his deception. And I can’t say I disagree.”
All the blood leached from her face. “Da!” She gaped at her father in genuine shock. She couldn’t believe her ears. He’d always been a friend of the Fey—always! “How can you say that? I made the choice to go with Adrial. I’m the one who betrayed Colum. Adrial’s not to blame for what I’ve done.”
Cann bared his teeth in a snarl. “Is he not? He brought dishonor to my House and House Sebourne. He lured my daughter from her marriage vows. He used his magic to trick and manipulate mortals incapable of seeing through his illusions. I am not blind to your fault in this, Talisa, but you are a love-drunk twenty-five-year-old mortal. He is an immortal who has walked the earth for gods know how many centuries. He has long been man enough to know the difference between right and wrong and to discipline his passions and avoid the misuse of his magic.”
“I’m not some innocent victim, Da, and I won’t let you pretend that I am. I went because I love him, Da. I’ve loved him all my life. How can you not understand that?”
“What about your duty? What about honoring your vows? Did you think of anyone besides yourself? Your family? Your brothers? Your country, for the Haven’s sake!”
Her spine stiffened. “How dare you accuse me of that? What do you think brought me back?” She flung up her hands in outrage. “If I hadn’t honored my vows, I would have run away with Adrial months ago. If not for my duty”—she spat the word like a curse—“I never would have married Colum in the first place! I don’t love him—I never have and never will. So don’t talk to me about duty! If I hadn’t wed out of duty to my family, I would have been free when Adrial came! I would have had a chance to be happy. You remember what happiness is, don’t you, Da? It’s what you had with Mum. That’s what I wanted to have. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Her father’s cheeks went ruddy, and with a muffled curse he spun away and thrust a large hand through his hair. “Flames scorch it,” he swore. He cast an agonized look over his shoulder. “Do you think I ever wanted anything less than happiness for you? But some things, once done, can’t be undone. Oaths, once given, can’t be rescinded. Honor is all we have, Talisa. Without it, we’re nothing.”
Tears shimmered in his eyes. “Do you think you’re the only person ever to be trapped in a loveless marriage? Your mum was the sun, moons, and stars to me. When she died, it was like I’d lost half my soul. Every day I fought just to keep the blade from my own throat. I forced myself to go on because my children deserved a father. Now there’s a woman in Celieria City carrying my child in her belly because the Feyreisa spun a weave I couldn’t protect myself against. And though I don’t love her and never shall, we wed by proxy two days ago so my child would have my name and all the protection that goes with it. And I will honor her as my wife, and be faithful to my oath, even though I’ll never love her. And I will keep the blade from my throat still, every day, because she deserves a husband and the child we made deserves a father. Honor is what makes us worthy of love, Tallie. In that, I agree with the Fey. And every day I live with honor is a day I honor your mother and the love we shared.”
Talisa’s face crumpled and the tears she’d been battling all morning spilled over. “Oh, Da.”
At the sight of her tears, all of her father’s anger melted. The hard-eyed stranger disappeared and he became once more the warm, loving father she’d always turned to in times of trouble. His arms opened, and she rushed into them.
“Oh, Da, what am I going to do?”
He tilted his head against hers. “I don’t know, Tallie. I just don’t know.”
A sound at the entrance of the tent made them turn. The tent flaps parted and Luce, one of Talisa’s brothers, ducked inside. “They’ve found vel Arquinas and his brother. The King’s Guard are bringing them in now.”
“Adrial vel Arquinas, you stand accused of violating the king’s justice, manipulating mortal minds by magic, violating the Fey-Celierian treaty, adultery against a lord of the realm, conspiracy to commit adultery against a lord of the realm, spying upon a lord of the realm by means of magic, defrauding a lord of the realm by means of magic, controlling the actions of a lord of the realm by means of magic, unlawful theft by means of magic….”
The litany of the charges against Adrial continued on for nearly three chimes. In their determination to see him executed, the Sebournes had charged him, his brother, and Talisa’s quintet with every possible crime and variation of a crime they could think of.
At Talisa’s urging, her father had done everything he could to delay the inquisition. The Feyreisen and his mate were on their way, and he had insisted that the judgment of Adrial wait until the Feyreisa arrived to Truthspeak him. Lord Sebourne flew into a rage at the mere suggestion.
“Out of the question, Sire!” Colum’s father railed. “How can we possibly trust anything they say ever again? The Tairen Soul had to have known vel Arquinas never left Celieria. He was in collusion with Talisa’s lover to steal my son’s wife—in direct violation of your earlier judgment! There’s no other credible explanation! The Fey have been lying to you and manipulating you all along, Sire!”
In a bleak, toneless voice, the king had agreed with Lord Sebourne. “Given the circumstances, Lord Sebourne is right. Vel Arquinas will hear the charges against him and have an opportunity to make a response. We will not wait for the Feyreisa or any other shei’dalin of the Fey.”
Now Talisa waited at her father’s side as Adrial, Rowan, and her quintet stood before the king to face their accusers. At Talisa’s left, Colum and his father watched the proceedings with curled lips and smug satisfaction.
Adrial held his head proudly erect, never taking his eyes from her as the charges were read. And though he was bound in so much sel’dor she could almost feel it burning her own skin, still he spoke to her in Spirit.
«Ke vo san, shei’tani. Throughout this life and every life that follows, I shall always love you. Forgive me for causing you such pain. I should have put your happiness before my own, and I did not.»
The sorrowful acceptance in his Spirit voice should have warned her, but it still c
ame as a shock when the king’s steward finished reading the charges, and Adrial turned to the king, his clear voice ringing out as he said, “I do confess to all charges against me and ask that all similar charges against my brother and the warriors of my shei’tani’s quintet be dismissed. I alone am responsible for every Celierian law that was broken.”
King Dorian sat up, and his brows drew together. “You confess? Just like that?”
“I am Fey, Your Majesty. Despite my recent actions, I am a warrior of honor. I confess that I used magic to manipulate the thoughts, actions, and memories of Colum diSebourne. He is wed by Celierian custom to my shei’tani, my soul’s other half. By your laws, she belongs to him, but her soul was created by the gods to complete my own, as mine was created to complete hers. After Your Majesty’s judgment this summer, I believed that Celieria’s refusal to recognize the will of the gods justified the breaking of your mortal laws. I was wrong.”
Now he turned his gaze back to Talisa, and continued in a softer, more penitent tone. “My actions have subjected my mate to shame and condemnation and thus I have dishonored myself. I have brought shame to my line, my shei’tani, my king, and my brother Fey.”
Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes. «Adrial…no. Oh, no, beloved, you haven’t shamed me. What I did, I did by my own choice, because I loved you and I always will.»
His lips trembled before he clamped them together and turned his attention swiftly back to the king. “King Dorian of Celieria, this Fey does most humbly beg your forgiveness. He has acted without honor and proven himself unworthy of the great gift the gods bestowed upon him.”
«Adrial!»
King Dorian leaned forward. “Ser vel Arquinas, you understand what you’re saying? You understand that the price of your transgressions is death?”
Adrial’s jaw clenched. “This Fey understands the penalty Celierian law demands and he accepts it. This Fey’s only request is that he be afforded the opportunity to expunge the stain upon his honor. If Your Majesty will permit it, this Fey requests the right to sheisan’dahlein, the honor death.”
“What? Adrial, no!” Talisa surged forward, but her father caught her and held her back. “No! You can’t! You can’t!” «Shei’tan, you can’t do this! Run! Go back to the Fading Lands. Wait for me, as we agreed. I can bear anything if I know you are alive and that one day I will be with you again.» Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
He didn’t look at her, but a gentle, sweet breeze of Air caressed her face. «It’s too late for that, shei’tani. This is the only way now. We will be together again, I promise you. But not in this life. May I prove more worthy in the next.»
«You’re worthy now! Please don’t do this. The Feyreisen and Feyreisa are coming. Wait for them. Perhaps they can find some other solution. Adrial!»
“Your Majesty can’t be considering it?” Colum huffed when King Dorian did not immediately reply. “This jaffing wife thief deserves nothing more than a common criminal’s execution. To be hanged by the neck until dead, his body left for the carrion birds to feast upon.”
“As do the other criminals who aided him!” his father agreed. “Including the Tairen Soul, who knew this was going on and turned a blind eye to it!”
Dorian flashed a hot look at father and son. “And how many immortal lives will it take to assuage bruised Sebourne pride? Your son was cuckolded. The Fey-Celierian treaty was broken, but for no purpose more calamitous than that. I will not demand the execution of a Fey king because your son’s wife jaffed another man. You are mad to even suggest it.”
“But—”
“Be silent.” Dorian rose to his feet. “Adrial vel Arquinas, you have been charged and have confessed to crimes punishable by death. You have agreed to accept the king’s justice.”
Adrial gave a curt nod. Behind him, his brother, Rowan, stood like a warrior carved from stone, unmoving, unflinching, his face pale as death but otherwise wiped clean of all expression.
“Very well then.” The king drew a breath. “Adrial vel Arquinas, as you have confessed to all abuses of magic and crimes charged against you and claimed sole responsibility for the same, I do hereby find you guilty of the charges in their entirety. As punishment for all crimes committed by you and on your behalf, I sentence you to death. In deference to the centuries of alliance and kinship between our two nations, I commute the sentence of death by hanging to sheisan’dahlein, the Fey honor death, and order that it shall be be carried out within the bell. You may use that time to say your good-byes and make your peace. May the gods have mercy on your soul.”
As King Dorian turned and walked towards his tent, Talisa broke into tortured sobs. She would have fallen to her knees except for the strong hands of her father and brother Luce holding her up.
“Adrial…Adrial…” Weeping, she stumbled towards him and fell into his arms.
Colum stepped towards her, an ugly look on his face, but Luce bared his teeth. “Back off, diSebourne. You’ve done more than enough for one day.”
Colum feigned affront. “Me? I am the injured party here!”
“If that were true, you’d be the one crying like your heart was being ripped from your chest.” Luce stood back and swept a cold gaze over his sister’s husband. “You’re a selfish, self-serving rultshart, and I’m sorry we ever thought any better of you. You knew she didn’t love you. If you’d loved her even the least little bit, you would have let her go when the Fey came. This is all your fault. Because you’re a greedy, grasping, controlling little turd pretending to be a man.”
“Luce!” Cann snapped. “That’s enough.” To Colum he said, “But Luce is right: You’ve done enough for one day. So now I suggest you and your father get the Hells out and leave Talisa in peace to share this last bell with the man she loves.” His other two sons, Parsis and Severn, joined Luce and Cann to form a barrier between Talisa and the Sebournes.
Colum snarled and spat a foul curse, but the two of them were no match for four Barrials, and they knew it. Together, puffed up with arrogance and self-righteous indignation, Lord Sebourne and his son stalked away.
“Adrial, I love you. I love you so much.” Talisa cupped his beloved face in her hands and showered him with tears and kisses. “I don’t want to live without you. I can’t bear to lose you. Not like this.”
“Shh.” Adrial smiled into her eyes. His heart was breaking. Each tear that spilled from her eyes burned his soul the way the sel’dor chains burned his flesh. He’d done this to her. He’d brought this sorrow to her door. Because in his own way, he was as selfish as diSebourne. Both of them fighting over her like dogs over a bone. “Sieks’ta, shei’tani. I did not do right by you in this life, but I swear to you, I will be everything you deserve in the next.” He took her hand and carried it to his lips. “This isn’t the end, shei’tani. No matter how many years or lifetimes it takes, I will find you again. And we will be happy. You have my oath on it.”
Weeping, she curled in his lap and laid her head on his shoulder. “Tell me what it will be like, shei’tan, when we’re together.”
He pressed his face to her hair and closed his eyes as his own tears fell. His throat was too tight to speak, so he wove Spirit, not just words but pictures, bringing the images from his last courtship gift to life. Dharsa in full bloom, and the two of them, together, forever. For each chime of the next bell, he spun his hopes for them, his dreams of their future, their love, the children they would have in another lifetime when joy, bright as sunlight, would suffuse their united souls.
And when they came for him, though she wept and clung to him until they pulled him away, the first of their bond threads had formed, and light like the warmth of a thousand suns shone on both their souls.
They gathered outside King Dorian’s tent.
Her tearstained face proudly unveiled, her spine straight and unyielding, Talisa stood at her father’s side. It would kill a part of her soul to watch Adrial’s death, but since she could not stop it, she wanted the l
ast thing he saw to be her face, and the last thing he felt to be her love.
A shadow moved across the corner of her eye and she glanced to her right to find Colum standing there. “We will get through this, Talisa. It is hard for me to forgive you your transgressions, but you are my wife, and I am determined we will build a good life together.”
She drew a breath, her hands curling tight together. “Heir to a great House you may be, but you are a despicable rultshart, Colum diSebourne. And you’re a fool if you think you’ll ever be anything to me but the monster who killed the man I love. I will give you nothing—not a touch, not a smile, not a kind word.” She looked at him then, to make sure he saw the utter loathing in her eyes. “Your name is a curse to me.”
His brows drew together in a dark scowl. “You dare—”
He started to grab her, but she swiftly sidestepped his grip and bared her teeth in a snarl every bit as dangerous as her father’s. “Lay a finger on me, and I’ll kill you myself.” And the pure hatred that vibrated in her voice was enough to make him stop in shock.
She swept her skirts away and moved to the other side of her father and brothers.
Silence fell over the gathering as King Dorian emerged from his tent. He took his place between Colum and Talisa’s father, then nodded, and the king’s guard led Rowan and the other Fey—still shackled—to one side of the circle, where they stood, under guard. A moment later, four more guards marched Adrial to the center of the circle.
He’d changed his black leathers for red. His dark hair hung loose about his shoulders and his face was pale but calm, almost serene. Sel’dor shackles still encased his wrists and ankles.
She forced her lips into a trembling smile. «I am here, shei’tan. I will always be here.»
He didn’t smile back, but his love poured over her in waves, and the sweet promises he’d spun for her in Spirit filled her mind once more. «Ver reisa ku’chae, Talisa. Kem surah shei’tani. In this life and every life to come.»