Aiduels sin, p.4
Aiduel's Sin, page 4
By the time that he finally returned to the castle, much of the night had passed, and he was exhausted. He found himself a spare cot in the guards’ barracks to sleep in, rather than disturbing Kalyane at such an early hour.
He sank into a much-needed sleep, but awoke in a dishevelled and still weary state less than three hours later, forced out of slumber by his recurring dream. It had become yet more troubled recently, always leaving him with a lingering sense of half-remembered violence. Had he also heard other words, spoken by the figure in the Gate, and had those words been a precursor to the violence? He was frustrated that he could never properly recall the full experience of the dream after waking.
As he was pondering this, a guard arrived to inform him that he had been summoned to the Great Hall of the castle by his older brother, Duke Gerrion. A hangover had also surfaced, and Arion was blinking sleep from his eyes and feeling sorry for himself as he crossed the castle courtyard to the main keep.
Upon arrival at the Great Hall, he was dismayed to see that Kalyane was also there. He would have to face his older brother and his wife at the same time.
Duke Gerrion Sepian, young ruler of Western Canasar, was sitting upright in the high chair on the dais at the far end of the hall. His face expressed an emotion somewhere between anger and impatience.
Kalyane was pacing in front of that chair, her fingers fiddling with her long auburn hair. She did not cease her pacing or move to greet Arion, although her green eyes locked onto his, expressing hurt. He dropped his own gaze, finding it difficult to meet her stare.
‘Ah, you’re here at last,’ said Gerrion, his voice business-like as usual. ‘I’ve received a full report from the Sergeant-at-Arms. Five attackers, of unknown origin, trying to kill a member of the Sepian family on our own streets. We can’t tolerate this. I’ve ordered the town gates sealed until further notice, and any ships which seek to leave port are to undergo inspection before being permitted to depart. Ten patrols of guardsmen are also going through the town, as we speak, entering properties. If this group is still in Septholme, we’ll find them.’
‘Thank you, brother,’ said Arion. ‘Apologies for not organising that myself, but I desperately needed to sleep.’
By the Lord, please don’t ask me what I was doing on that street, at that time. Not in front of Kalyane.
Gerrion continued, oblivious to Arion’s silent wishes. ‘Thank Aiduel for your skills with a sword, Arion. Otherwise, as I understand it, we could all be in mourning today. But what I don’t understand is this. An attack after midnight. Two attackers following you. Three waiting for you. A quiet, deserted street with no side exits. A trap. Like they knew that you were coming. But how could that be, and what were you doing there?’
Arion blushed, aware that Kalyane’s gaze would be fixed upon him. ‘I was… drinking. In the Northern Quarter. They must have guessed which route I’d take back to the castle.’
But even as he said the words, he realised that it was not true. They had not guessed, they had known. He had taken that same route back after every evening in The Hungry Gull. Anyone who might have been trailing him in the past few weeks would have known how often he visited the tavern, and exactly what route he would follow to get home. Springing that trap would have been of no great difficulty, on such a careless target.
‘Drinking!’ exclaimed Kalyane, sounding frustrated. She was clenching her hair in both hands. ‘Didn’t I say so, Gerrion? He had promised to be here, with me. But again, he was… out… drinking! Drinking, and doing Lord knows what else!’
Arion felt squalid for the upset that his choices were inflicting upon his wife.
‘Please be calm, Kalyane,’ said Gerrion softly, before frowning at Arion. ‘The Northern Quarter, you say?’
Gerrion was aware of the past antics of Arion’s youth, and Arion blushed again when he noted the sudden comprehension in his older brother’s regard. Arion hoped that he did not appear as guilty as he was suddenly feeling.
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘The Northern Quarter.’
‘Kalyane says this isn’t the first time you’ve returned to the castle in the early hours, drunk, Arion. It’s something I was vaguely aware of, but I hadn’t appreciated how frequent or serious it had become. I understand that this has become a very regular activity for you, brother, since the war ended. Now, please understand me, no one is more grateful for what you did for Western Canasar than me. No one. But I can’t tolerate the continuation of what you’ve been doing recently. That kind of behaviour is not an acceptable example for a senior member of this family to set, as you well know. Not at all acceptable for someone who has the position and the authority that you have. And, frankly, it’s a poor way to treat your wife.’ He gestured towards Kalyane as he said this. ‘And certainly, it cannot and will not continue after this incident, brother. Not least, because there could still be a gang of killers somewhere in this town, who’ve marked you for death. Am I understood on this?’
‘Yes, brother, of course,’ said Arion, feeling ashamed.
‘But we have to find them,’ said Gerrion. ‘Find out who they are and who paid them to do this. Find out whether this is attempted retribution by Elannis for what you did at Moss Ford, or simply an attempt by them to eliminate a dangerous enemy.’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Arion, nodding as he replied.
However, he was remembering the severe diminishment of his abilities, mid-fight, and the hooded man’s taunting words. Why and how had Arion’s powers been so weakened by the stranger? And the man had specifically referred to Arion’s possession of those powers, as if he had known about Arion’s secret. How could that be possible? Arion’s mind was churning about whether this attack could somehow be connected to what he was, rather than who he was. Could it be connected to the fact that he was an Illborn?
Gerrion was scrutinising him. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me, Arion. What is it?’
‘Nothing, brother.’
‘Not telling us something!’ said Kalyane. ‘Of course. Why should we expect today to be any different?’
Gerrion leaned forwards, before asking, ‘Is this attack somehow connected to your journey to Arlais? To the priestess they’re calling the Angel of Arlais?’
‘No, Gerrion,’ Arion replied. ‘Nothing to do with that. It feels to me like the most likely reason would be attempted revenge by Elannis. One of the attackers called me “the Butcher of Moss Ford” during the fight, which certainly points towards them being agents of the empire.’
‘Yes, I was told that,’ said Gerrion, but he maintained his scrutiny of Arion’s face.
‘But we won’t know for sure unless we capture the surviving attackers,’ added Arion, his eyes imploring his older brother to change the subject. ‘Let’s find them, then interrogate them.’
Gerrion leaned back, looking dissatisfied. ‘Very well, Arion. I won’t challenge you on this. For now. Because I trust you. But I’ll say again, do not repeat this action. Your excursions out of the castle at night-time end now, and you and everyone else in this family – including you, Kalyane – will be accompanied by guards if we leave the castle in the day. Arion, you as much as me will appreciate the peril that Western Canasar could be in, now that we’ve expelled Aiduel’s Guards. We’ll all have to deal with the consequences of King Inneos’s… impulsive decisions. More than ever, I need your strength alongside me now, brother, if we’re to survive this.’
‘Yes, Gerrion. You’ll have it. I promise.’
‘Well, in that case, I’ll share with you both the news that I received yesterday. The king has summoned me to Andarron in three weeks’ time. He’s summoning all of the dukes of the great houses, for a council at the Royal Palace.’
‘What for?’ asked Arion.
Gerrion looked concerned. ‘The summons doesn’t say. But I fear that our king is about to make his next big decision, his next grave mistake, and that he wants all of the heads of the noble families gathered in one place to announce it.’
Arion frowned. ‘Mistake? You don’t possibly think that he’s going to announce a split from the Holy Church in Sen Aiduel?’
‘I don’t know that,’ said Gerrion, ‘and I hope not. But I fear it. Fear it greatly. And believe me, I’ll be leaving for Andarron with a heavy heart. I’ll want you to travel there with me, Arion. I think that rulings may be announced there that will affect everyone in this family, and in the country, and I’m going to want you alongside me in the aftermath. But if the king does announce that he’s breaking the country off from the authority of the Holy Church, then there will be war with Elannis, and probably Dei Magnus too. And possibly civil war, within Andar. We both know that Western Canasar will bear the brunt of any second Elannis invasion, which is why none of us can afford for you, my brother, to end up dead in a gutter after a night of drunkenness.’
Arion nodded in response, now silent and feeling even more ashamed of his actions. In the last three months, since Allana’s death and Leanna’s salvation, he had allowed himself to become self-absorbed and self-indulgent. However, if what Gerrion was saying was true, then it was clear that the current period of peace might be but a fleeting respite.
Knowing that, Arion was resolved that he needed to stop feeling sorry for himself. He needed to stop obsessing over Allana and Leanna. Needed to stop thinking about all of the death at Moss Ford, and to stop drinking. And he must try to make things right with Kalyane, through both his words and his deeds.
As if echoing those thoughts, Gerrion said, ‘Now, leave me, brother. Go back to your quarters with Kalyane. Clean yourself up and get some sleep. And finally, Arion, apologise and make amends to your wife. That’s an order.’
2
Allana
—
Year of Our Lord,
After Ascension, 769AA
‘How dare King Inneos do this, Lana!’ said Duke Jarrett Berun. He then shook the recently delivered letter, which was clutched in his hand.
Allana dei Monis looked up from her seat within the duke’s private chambers of Berun Castle. Her eyes focused upon the imposing form of her lover, but she otherwise did not respond. She had already learned that when Jarrett was in this kind of mood, it was better to listen for a while to allow him to vent his frustrations.
‘As if the expulsion of the Guards wasn’t enough of an insult to the Archlaw,’ Jarrett continued. ‘Now, I’m being summoned to Andarron, and for what? So Inneos can tell me that he was right to expel them, despite the damage that he’s done to the Church. Or, perhaps, he’ll announce some new insult to my religion? The man will have us all excommunicated before he’s finished!’
He was prowling back and forth across the room as he spoke, and as Allana’s eyes followed him, she allowed herself a shiver of self-satisfaction. The young duke was a bull of a man, his giant body rippling with muscles, the power of his physical form a mirror of the power of his position. And he was hers. All hers. Within three months, she had ensnared him completely.
Almost completely, Lana, she thought, correcting herself. But not totally. It would be total, if not for her.
‘Our religion, Jarrett,’ she said, judging that now was the right time to speak. ‘This will also affect me. It will affect everyone.’
He appeared contrite as he replied, ‘Yes, Lana, our religion.’
‘But you’re right,’ she continued, saying what she knew he wanted to hear. ‘It is an insult to the faithful, the things that King Inneos has done and may yet do.’
So convincing and serious, Lana. You always are, when he talks about religion.
In the last three months, she had become more outwardly devout, in a calculated reflection of her pious young duke. She prayed with Jarrett multiple times a day, and she was always careful to support his moral and religious stances. However, that had not stopped her from being secretly delighted when she had heard about the expulsion of Aiduel’s Guards.
‘But what am I to do, Lana?’ Jarrett asked, the heat now gone from his tone.
Allana set down the sewing which she had been working on, and stood up to approach him. He ceased his stalking across the room and turned to regard her, his face sombre. When she reached him, she put her hand onto his cheek, and the solemnity of his expression melted away as her flesh touched his. She could sense his sudden desire for her, even in the midst of his turmoil.
He wants you just as much as the first time, Lana.
She had seduced him on the very first evening after they had met, three months earlier, following her escape from Western Canasar. After their initial encounter at the borders of his region, he had invited her to accompany him to his fortress in southern Berun, and had later asked her to dine with him. At the end of that evening, she had set in motion the course of events which she had been following ever since.
–
‘And so, Lana, I must wish you a fond good night.’ Jarrett Berun had stood up as he had said these words, at the end of the dinner in his private quarters.
Allana had remained seated. After the traumatic events of the preceding days, she had resolved that she did not want to face the coming night on her own.
‘Must you, Duke Jarrett?’ she had asked.
‘Yes, of course. I must go to pray, and your rooms will be ready by now. I’ll call someone to escort you there.’
Had she detected a hint of blushing on his cheeks, as he had answered her?
For all of that day, Allana had been assessing the opportunity that the young duke represented. She had secured his invitation to accompany his party, based solely upon their initial conversation and on how attracted he was to her. And the invite to his southern fortress and to dinner had been achieved purely through her natural charms, without her needing to engage any of her other… abilities.
But she had concluded during dinner that he would be unlikely to take the next step by his own volition, although she had been able to sense the desire held captive within him. His sense of religious propriety, so evident in his earlier conversation, would act to inhibit him. He would need to be pushed. And this might be her last opportunity to be alone with him like this.
‘Yes, my Lord,’ she had answered. ‘But do you want me to be escorted out of here?’
As she had said this, she had welcomed the sensation of a slowing down of time around her. Invisible tendrils had gently eased out of her mind, and had snaked sinuously towards him. This had been so different to the awful use of her ability earlier that day, when she had bludgeoned control of two Aiduel’s Guards on the field beside the road. This time, it had been an occasion for finesse, for subtly penetrating his will and directing it as she chose, rather than smashing her way through to it.
‘Of course, I must.’ His voice had contained a tremor, as he had replied. ‘I would not impugn your honour by asking you to stay. And, of course, my religion would not allow-’
She had made intimate contact with his mind for the first time as he had been saying that. He had stopped speaking as she had started to softly caress his senses, stimulating pleasure within him. She had then begun to whisper silent words to him through the connection which she had formed.
You want me, Jarrett. You want me, so badly. And you can have me. But only if you do what I want. What I need.
‘What?’ His voice had been strained as he had said this single word, and his pupils had become dilated as she had felt the response of his lust stirring inside of him.
She had stood up as he had said that, and had moved around the table towards him. She was attracted to his physical form, and her own arousal had been building in response to the pulsing connection between them. She had then placed her hand onto his cheek, softly.
‘Those things don’t matter, Jarrett, if you want me, and I want you.’ That was the first time that she had addressed him so informally. ‘And I want you, Jarrett. Tonight. Do you want me?’
She had watched him gulp. Twisting tendrils within his thoughts had been sending continuous whispers of pleasure throughout his body. She had been able to sense the victory within him of desire over propriety, and she had felt a sense of triumph when he had finally answered.
‘Yes, Lana. I do.’
–
To Allana’s surprise, that had been his first time with a woman. But ever since, she had been a regular visitor to his sleeping chambers. Each night that she spent with the young duke served to enhance her subtle control over him, and was an escape from the torment of sleeping on her own.
He was undoubtedly in love with her, and his newly discovered lust meant that he was all too willing to commit the sin of sex outside of wedlock, despite his piety. Indeed, he was becoming a talented lover, although he did not arouse the same incomparable passion which… someone else once had.
‘I know that you’ll find a way to do the right thing, Jarrett,’ Allana said now, with her hand still on his cheek. ‘For the Church, for the people of Berun, and for us.’
Her words and her touch acted to calm him. ‘I will, Lana. Before The Lord, I will. King Inneos assumes that House Berun has no options but to follow him in these matters. That I’ll be meek and compliant. But there are things developing. Other choices presenting themselves. Offers of meetings. Mother has received many messages, recently.’
‘Has she?’ asked Allana. ‘From whom?’
He hesitated before replying, looking awkward. ‘In time, when things become clearer, I’ll tell you. But Mother has asked me to keep it confidential. I shouldn’t even be saying this much, really.’
‘Then don’t, if it makes you uncomfortable.’ She knew that she could force him to give her the information, but she had no desire to use her powers on him today. ‘I’d never ask you to betray the confidence of another person.’
