The Prison of Buried Hopes (After The Rift Book 5) Read online

  "I've hardly seen you of late," he said quietly. "How are you since leaving Glancia behind?"

  "I'm fine. Vytill is just the same as Glancia, really. The same sort of trees, the same water, the same soil. Even the company is the same." I didn't admit that leaving my village had been more unsettling than leaving behind the kingdom. I'd lived in Mull my entire life and ventured little further than Half Moon Cove. I felt disoriented and insignificant as I realized how large the Fist Peninsula was. Yet I was hopeful too. Hopeful that Dane would soon learn about his past and that we could be together, somewhere.

  "Besides," I added lightly, "whose fault is it that you've hardly seen me of late, hmmm?"

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "You've been avoiding me."

  "Not avoiding, just…" He heaved a deep sigh. "Very well, I've been avoiding you. It's nothing personal."

  "It is," I shot back. "Very personal."

  "That's the whole problem," he muttered, shoulders slumping.

  I sidled closer and placed a hand on his arm. The muscles tensed. He peered sideways at me, his eyes dark and brooding.

  "Just so you know, I hate this," he said.

  I offered him a grim smile. "I hate it too, but it's the right thing to do. We must wait and see what we learn about your life."

  "We're getting closer to answers, Josie. I feel it. I have a strong suspicion Freedland is the key to everything."

  So many things pointed to Freedland as being the place to look for answers about the palace servants' pasts. According to the Tilting family of one of the servants, he'd been heading there before he'd disappeared. Balthazar had also bought maps of the republic and been studying accounts of the civil war before he too went missing. It all had to mean something. But what?

  "The others want to linger in Merrin Fahl in the hope of finding information about missing people," I said.

  "We'll take three days, but no more. The sooner we reach Freedland, the better. And not just for you and me." He nudged my elbow and nodded at Max, where he sat at one end of the log by the fire and Meg sat at the other. They didn't speak yet their stolen glances suggested they were very aware of each other.

  Like I was aware of Dane, now and always. When he was near, my entire attention focused on him.

  His attention must also have been focused on me. That was why neither of us heard the attackers until too late.

  Chapter 2

  Dane shot to his feet and drew his sword. "Go!" he shouted at me as he engaged the first attacker.

  Another five descended on him.

  Someone behind me shrieked.

  Dane parried a strike from one of the swordsmen only to be struck across the shoulder by another before dodging out of the way.

  I withdrew my surgeon's knife from my skirt pocket as two of the attackers lunged at Dane. Still reeling from the sudden appearance of the intruders, he was caught off guard and stumbled backwards, almost falling over the log we'd been sitting on. He stood on it and leaped backwards, creating space between himself and the enemy.

  Both swordsmen followed and engaged him in battle while the remaining three became distracted as I raised my blade and plunged into the fray.

  I didn't advance more than a single step, however. Erik shoved me out of the way as he stormed past, Max and Quentin on his heels. The attackers weren't distracted by me, but rather the armed swordsmen running towards them at full tilt.

  "Josie, get back!" Meg grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the way.

  Four of us and five of them. It was no contest. Max dispatched his opponent and helped Quentin, while Dane killed the man who'd struck him. His other attacker retreated and the rest followed. Erik, Max, Quentin and Dane raced after them, thrashing through the bushes.

  Meg and I clung to one another, staring into the dark forest, listening for sounds of metal clashing. There were none.

  "What if there are more in the forest?" Kitty asked, her voice trembling. "What if their plan was to draw our men away from the camp, leaving me exposed?"

  She crossed her arms and hugged herself, her gaze darting around the edges of the campsite clearing.

  Meg put her arm around Kitty's waist. I tightened my grip around the knife handle and scanned the darkness, straining to hear.

  Somewhere in the forest depths, a flock of birds was disturbed out of their nests. They protested loudly before resettling.

  Theodore drew up alongside me, a sword in hand. Balthazar passed a knife to Meg. We stood as one, staring into the forest, alert and scared.

  Thudding footsteps announced the arrival of a small group before Dane emerged from the darkness at a run. He stopped upon seeing us, looking relieved. Erik and Max followed and Quentin brought up the rear. He leaned over, hands on knees, gasping in air.

  "Well?" Balthazar asked.

  "They got away," Max bit off. "Their horses were tethered not far from here."

  Erik strode up to Kitty and drew her into a hug. She clung to him. Max did the same to Meg.

  I gazed at Dane, wishing he would comfort me too. He approached but did not throw his arms around me in unbridled passion.

  "All right?" he asked simply.

  "Yes, but you're hurt. Take off your shirt. I need to dress your wound."

  He gave orders to his men to watch the perimeter then finally sheathed his sword. He removed his shirt and sat on the log. I cleaned the cut on his shoulder, thankful it wasn't deep.

  "It'll leave a faint scar," I said as I dressed it.

  He inspected it then inspected another, older scar on his right shoulder that extended down his back. It must have been put there by the lashes from whippings he couldn't remember receiving. "They almost match."

  "This is hardly a joke, Dane."

  He reached for his shirt. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

  With my work done, I allowed myself to admire the breadth of his shoulders, the muscles in his chest and arms and across his back. His body might be scarred but it was still more appealing than the marble statues of the male form that graced the palace gardens. Much more.

  Balthazar and Theodore approached and Dane rose. He helped Balthazar down to the log then finished tying the laces of his shirt, covering up the chest I'd been admiring.

  "Were they bandits?" Theodore asked.

  "Hard to say," Dane said. "They were able swordsmen but not highly skilled."

  Balthazar placed both hands over the head of his walking stick. "They had mounts just outside the clearing and there were five of them."

  "Meaning?"

  "Meaning they were organized. They came with more armed men than we have and had an escape planned."

  "There's no evidence they worked for someone," Dane said.

  "There's no evidence they were merely thieves, either."

  "The Deerhorns would send more than five."

  I wasn’t sure if that was a comfort or not.

  Dane made sure the spare weapons were stored in the wagon with Kitty, Meg and me overnight. I hardly slept as I listened for movement outside. Every rustle of leaves had me sitting upright, listening for an attack.

  It did not come and we arose in the morning to fresh autumn air and the sounds of the forest surrounding us. Dane looked tired but assured me he was fine when I inquired.

  "And the wound?" I asked.

  "Also fine."

  "Let me know if it becomes more painful."

  We packed away our camp things and set off, returning to the main road that led to Merrin Fahl. After spending the morning traveling in the back of the wagon with Kitty and Meg, I decided to walk beside Quentin in the afternoon.

  He greeted me from the saddle then yawned. "Say something to keep me awake, Josie. I'm dog tired."

  "Tell me about your girl back at the palace."

  His cheeks flushed. "She's real nice. Real shy too."

  "How did you get to know her then? You're hardly the most outgoing person yourself."

  "I fell in her lap. She was sitting on a s
tool in the kitchen, peeling potatoes, and I tripped over my own feet." He made a tumbling motion with his hand. "I was so embarrassed, I couldn't even talk proper. My words didn't make sense. She thought that was funny and started laughing, so I laughed too."

  "Then you got to talking and you charmed her?"

  "Nope. The cook yelled at me to stop pestering his staff. I told him I was looking for leftovers, but he chased me out of the kitchen without so much as a lettuce leaf to satisfy my hunger. Ruby came looking for me later in the garrison. She brought me a pie."

  "How sweet."

  "She is."

  He chatted about Ruby for some time, and I found my mind wandering to the head of our procession where Dane and Erik rode together. Erik seemed as relaxed as always on horseback, but Dane's shoulders were rigid. His head turned at every scuttling creature in the leaves at the side of the road, every squawk of a bird in the sky.

  "He looks tired this morning," I said to Quentin during a lull in the conversation.

  "Who?" he asked around yet another yawn.

  "Dane."

  "That's because he didn't sleep last night. He was supposed to swap with me but he stayed up so there was three of us on watch during the second shift."

  "Typical," I muttered. "He does too much."

  "He feels responsible for our safety. Once we reach Merrin Fahl, he'll get some rest. Bandits only attack on the road."

  The city wouldn't be any safer if the Deerhorns had indeed sent those bandits to attack us.

  We entered the smaller of the twin cities, Fahl, before nightfall. It was on the same side of the river as our approach and it was also the location of the inn where we wanted to stay. Rhys, the master of the warrior priests from Merdu's Guards in Tilting, had given us the name of the inn where he and his men usually stayed when on pilgrimage to the religious capital of the Fist Peninsula. Located in the shadow of the supreme priest's temple, it was central, clean and run by an honest innkeeper. Mention of Rhys's name earned us the best rooms and a hot meal upon our arrival.

  The following morning, Balthazar was summoned to the supreme priest's temple by a messenger dressed in the simple brown robes of a priest.

  "Tell him I'll come later," Balthazar said over breakfast in the inn’s dining room.

  The messenger's brows rose ever so slightly. "It's not a request, Brother."

  Balthazar sighed. "Can I at least finish my breakfast?"

  The messenger looked uncertain how to answer. Balthazar sighed again and rose. "At least it's not far."

  "His Supreme Holiness has sent a sedan chair for you. It's waiting outside."

  "Want me to come with you?" Theodore asked.

  "Only Brother Balthazar," the messenger said.

  "Friendly," Balthazar muttered as he passed me.

  The rest of us finished breakfast and were about to leave to begin inquiries into missing persons when another messenger arrived. He wore a tunic of purple and gold livery, the chest emblazoned with the emblem of a hawk carrying an eye in its beak. The king of Vytill had summoned us.

  Dane, Theodore and I traveled in royal carriages across the bridge connecting the two cities. The amount of traffic should have made it a long journey, but carts, carriages, riders and pedestrians all gave way to us.

  We carved a path through the crowd towards the magnificent fortress on the hill. It was larger than the Tilting castle of the former king of Glancia but the palace near Mull would have dwarfed it. No matter how grand these old castles were, none could ever amaze me after witnessing the palace.

  Like the Tilting castle, this one was built to withstand assault, although the history books hadn't recorded an attack on the kingdom in centuries. Built from the same stone as the outcrops on the rocky hill, it looked as though it had been thrown up, fully formed, by whatever natural forces had created the landscape. With steep slopes leading up to high walls on two sides, and a sheer wall plunging into the river on the third, the only access was via the steep winding road.

  All traffic to and from the castle took the same route. Empty carts passed us going in the opposite direction, along with errand boys on horseback, and a gleaming black carriage with the curtains closed. We had to wait at the outer gate for a farmer to move his gaggle of geese to the side, but we traveled freely through the second gate, and the third, without being stopped by the guards on duty. We were expected.

  The person who waited for us in the large room was someone quite unexpected. Two someomes.

  Lord Barborough and a young woman.

  The former was dressed as usual in black garb, his right arm limp at his side. The latter wore a sky-blue gown with leaves embroidered in silver thread on her skirt and sleeves, the wide opening at the neck showing off her slender throat and collar bones.

  I instinctively curtseyed. As I rose, she bestowed a gentle smile on me.

  "You must be Joselyn Cully," she said in a soft voice. "Glancian women really are as beautiful as they say."

  I rose, aware that I was blushing fiercely. "Thank you…"

  Lord Barborough stepped forward and hurriedly made introductions. "This is Her Royal Highness, the Princess Illiriya."

  "Thank you, Your Highness,” I said. “That's very gracious of you."

  Lord Barborough introduced Dane and Theodore and asked after Balthazar.

  "Your messenger missed him," Theodore said. "He was summoned to the supreme priest's temple early this morning."

  "What a shame," Princess Illiryia said. "But of course we must allow him time to reconnect with his faith in the god's city."

  "You know he was—is—a brother from the order of Merdu's Guards?" Dane asked, his gaze sliding to Lord Barborough, Vytill representative to Glancia and spy.

  "We have been informed," she said. "Come. Sit, and tell me about yourselves."

  She took a seat at one end of the room where a cluster of cushioned chairs had been arranged before the fireplace. A low fire crackled, throwing out enough heat to reach the chairs but not warm the rest of the large room. Banners of purple velvet edged with gold hung from the high ceiling, and tapestries covered the stone walls, but it would be a cold place in winter. This room wouldn't be the public audience chamber where the king sat on a throne and met his people, but it wouldn't be the more intimate chamber for meeting favorites either.

  Princess Illiriya looked regal as she sat on a chair raised above the others on a low dais, her honey-colored hair woven in a complex arrangement of braids high on her head. Her cool blue eyes matched her dress and the single sapphire ring on her finger. She wore other jewels at her throat, ears, wrists, and in her hair, leaving no one in any doubt of her father's wealth. Wealth that diminished every day since the cataclysmic event known as The Rift cut off the Thumb from the Fist and rendered its once-bustling port useless to Vytill. All of those taxes were now pouring into Glancia's coffers via Mull. It must gall this woman's father, but the nineteen year-old princess looked as though she didn't have a care in the world.

  Princesses usually didn't. Born to make strategic alliances, and bred to be ornamental, they were nothing more than another jewel in their kingdom's crown. I'd never given princesses a second thought, and certainly not a sympathetic or pitying one, until I'd met Lady Miranda Claypool and Kitty. Now I knew the privileges afforded noblewomen came with a price—freedom. It wasn't a price I would be willing to pay.

  "You must be wondering why I've asked you to come here," Princess Illiriya said.

  "Asked?" Dane echoed with a hint of steel edging his tone.

  I winced. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Theodore shoot him a glare.

  "Don't be insolent," Lord Barborough snapped.

  "My apologies," Dane said to the princess. "It's been a long journey from Tilting and we have much to accomplish in Merrin Fahl before we move on."

  "Of course," she said. "I won't keep you long."

  "And the presence of the man who threatened Josie on numerous occasions tends to put me on my guard."

  Th
e princess went quite still. "Is that so," she said, her voice chilly.

  Lord Barborough cleared his throat. "King Phillip wanted information. I never intended to follow through on my threats." He tapped his limp arm. "I'm quite harmless."

  He might be less able than most men but he was far from harmless. He had more power and influence than me, and more cunning. I didn't trust him then and I was yet to make up my mind whether to trust him now.

  "Lord Barborough tells me it's an arduous journey to Glancia, although I haven't traveled there myself," the princess went on as though the frosty exchange hadn't happened. "I would have done so this autumn, but…events occurred to render the journey unnecessary."

  Most of King Leon’s advisors had wanted him to marry this woman. King Phillip of Vytill also wanted the union to take place. Leon had hesitated, allowing Lady Violette Morgrave and her Deerhorn mother to swoop in and carve out a place in his heart.

  He would have liked the elegant princess sitting before me, however. She wasn't as beautiful as Lady Morgrave, and couldn't hold a candle to Miranda, but she had a quality about her that demanded attention. Leon could have used a jewel like Princess Illiriya by his side if he’d continued to rule.

  "Lord Barborough returned from Mull with many interesting tales," she went on. "Tales about Mull's unrest and the governor's plans, about the nobles and ministers, about the magnificent golden palace and its strange servants. And about Leon."

  Not King Leon.

  "So you believe in magic," Dane said simply.

  "Lord Barborough made a convincing case."

  Lord Barborough's lips curved with his smirk.

  "Is that why we're here?" Theodore asked. "To confirm his story?"

  "Or are you after the unused wishes?" Dane added.

  "Lord Barborough says the guard who killed Leon inherited the wishes," the princess said matter-of-factly. "Is that true?"

  "Brant claims he has them," Dane said. “But he’s not the most trustworthy person.”