Island Shifters: Book 01 - An Oath of the Blood Page 14

  Kiernan rode with the hood of her cloak up in the light drizzle of the early afternoon. This visit back to her homeland was unnerving her more than she realized it would. She trailed her companions as they approached the northern border of Nysa, and her anxiety intensified with each passing moment. Even so, her heart and mind still longed for home, and the memories flooded through her. She remembered the big kitchen on the first floor of the palace and snatching freshly baked cookies with her best friend, Larkin Malley. She thought of her caretaker, dear Miss Belle, who became a surrogate mother to Kiernan after her own mother died. She smiled as she thought of the Royal Guard and how they took turns teaching her to fight with wooden swords in the courtyard near the stables. She recalled the beautiful gardens and the countless hours spent helping the groundskeepers or simply reading a book beneath one of the large willow trees. It was a very idyllic and indulgent upbringing for the little Princess, and she and her Draca Cat were treasured by the people of Iserlohn.

  That was then. She wondered how they would feel about her now. After her father discovered her shifting ability, she was swept away to Pyraan so quickly and discretely that she never had the chance to say good-bye.

  Beck stopped his horse up ahead and waited for her to catch up so he could ride next to her. It would be tricky on the narrow path of the heavily wooded forestland in which they now rode.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Well, now that you are near,” she said and leaned over to kiss him, the horses dancing between them. He kissed her back, placing his hand on the back of her head.

  “Mmm,” he said. “This is something that I can get used to.” With his lips still pressed to hers, he murmured, “Keep your eyes up front, Falewir.”

  Kiernan heard Airron chuckle, and it was nice bit of levity that they all needed.

  Beck broke away with a smile. “Kiernan, as soon as we deliver Ravener’s demand to your father, I will have to continue on to Deepstone and then Haventhal.”

  “I know. I will be ready to go with you.”

  Beck squared his shoulders and sighed. “Kiernan, you will be safer in Nysa with your father and his armies.”

  “I go where you go,” she said, fixing him in her green eyes to make sure he understood that she would tolerate no argument. Although, she looked forward to returning to Nysa, Beck was her home now.

  “Kiernan…”

  Suddenly she alerted on the unmistakable whisper of several bowstrings being drawn taut.

  “Hold!” she hissed to the others, and they all stopped immediately when they sensed the caution in her voice.

  The Royal Guard is here, Princess, and it is about time. To think a person of your distinction skulking in the back woods instead of receiving the royal escort as is your due.

  Kiernan smiled at the hauteur in evidence in the thoughts of Bajan. As you well know, I have not had a royal escort in several years, my friend.

  Hmmrf. Ridiculous human rules.

  “Beck,” she murmured quietly, “make sure Titus keeps his face hidden.” He nodded sharply, and she slowly squeezed her horse past the others to the front.

  An authoritative voice rang out. “You have entered the land of Iserlohn! State your purpose!”

  Guardsmen wearing the scarlet and black of Iserlohn materialized from behind the trees. Their tunics marked them as Nysa’s elite Royal Guard, also known as the Scarlet Sabers for the thin, single-edged curved swords they carried at their hips.

  Kiernan stopped her horse, Bajan arriving at her side.

  “Does a long overdue visit home warrant passage?” she asked coyly.

  The officer in charge who halted the group strode forward with confidence, naked sword in his hand. “I will ask one more time, state…,” the officer stopped in his tracks when he saw Bajan and then looked up at her.

  “Kiernan?”

  She smiled at his impetuous lack of formality. “Yes.”

  He realized his mistake and immediately dropped to one knee, left fist on the ground in from of him, and the Scarlet Sabers accompanying him followed suit. “Forgive me, Princess! It has been a long time since you have been home.”

  Kiernan looked down at the fair-haired head bent in deference.

  “Colbie, is that you?” She casually lifted her right leg over her saddle and dismounted.

  “Yes, Your Grace, I am now Captain of your father’s Royal Guard.”

  Kiernan laughed. “Royal Guard now is it? Does my father know, Colbie Nash, that the last time I saw you, you were trying to steal a kiss from me in his stables?”

  The young Captain blushed fiercely as snickers came from the Sabers behind him. “Quiet!” he snarled over his shoulder and immediately bowed his head in front of Kiernan again.

  “Please rise. All of you.”

  As they did so, Captain Nash asked, “May I ask what you are doing here, Your Grace?”

  “I am here to see my father, Captain,” she said, reverting to protocol. She needed to reestablish her authority with these men less they decide she was no longer within her right to give commands as the Princess of Iserlohn.

  Captain Nash impulsively reached out to move her hair from her neck, revealing her athame. “The rumors are correct,” he confirmed. “You are a shifter.”

  “Yes.”

  He backed away a fraction, and that modest movement stung. Much more than she thought it would. Fortunately, she did not have time to dwell on hurt feelings. In order to save lives and to give the Island of Massa a fighting chance of survival, she had to get to her father.

  “The King never really explained where you went,” he told her. “At first, we all thought you were away on missionary duties, but as time wore on, the rumor of your exile surfaced.”

  “It is true. I have been living in Pyraan for the past six years, but recent tragic events require that I speak to my father immediately. Our business with him is urgent. Please lead the way, Captain.”

  She turned and walked back to her horse. To her surprise, she realized that the Sabers had not moved. With her hand on the pommel of her saddle, she caught Beck’s eye and read the meaning in his look. He would remain silent. This was her homeland and her battle to win. Slowly, she turned back to the Captain.

  “You must return to Pyraan, Your Grace,” said Captain Nash quietly, his gray eyes firm but filled with remorse. “It is the law. It is the King’s law.”

  Her green eyes flared and she stalked back to him. “Captain, my patience is running thin. I cannot return to Pyraan, because there is no Pyraan! It does not exist! I did not want to do this, but I am ordering you to escort my traveling party and me to my father immediately. Either that or I will ride through you. Which will it be?”

  All was silent in the woods.

  “Well, Captain Nash? Are you going to refuse a royal command from the Princess of Iserlohn?”

  So much for subtlety.

  Long ingrained tradition won out and the Captain immediately dropped to his knee and banged a fist to his heart. “Of course not, Your Grace. We will escort you at once.”

  Kiernan let out the breath she did not realize she was holding. “Thank you, Captain. Please rise.”

  Captain Nash stood, gave a rapid hand signal and the Sabers melted back into the woods, presumably to retrieve their mounts. The Captain broke the tension of the previous moment by smiling at her and grabbing the reins of her horse. “Allow me, Princess.” She smiled back and gestured to the rest of the party to dismount and follow their lead.

  As she walked ahead on the pathway with the Captain, he leaned his head close to her to whisper, “For the record, Your Grace, I do remember that kiss.”

  Kiernan gasped aloud as she looked at her old friend. “You did not kiss me, Colbie Nash! You tried, but you were unsuccessful.”

  He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, believe me. I was successful, Princess. I have thought of that kiss often over the past six years.”

  Kiernan felt a faint tremor beneath her fe
et.

  “Kiernan!” said Beck, startling the duo as he walked close behind them. “We need to move faster if we are to get to Nysa before dark.”

  He reached out to grasp the reins of Kiernan’s horse from Colbie. “Lead on, Captain.”

  It took several monotonous hours to navigate through the forest, and then Kiernan glimpsed her childhood home through the leafy foliage ahead.

  If a palace can be referred to as a home, she mused.

  High twin turrets thrust up from behind a black, granite curtain wall that rose fifty spans into the air. Crimson and black pennants flapped in the late afternoon wind from the turrets and from spaced intervals between the crenellations. Kiernan knew that in contrast to the stark stone of the outer wall, the city of Nysa that lay beyond was spectacular. The colors of nature may be Beck’s world, but the colors of the city were hers.

  Inside, a myriad of hues ornamented the vast city from the elegant dress of the people to the decorative lights adorning the homes of her father’s Lords and Ladies to the sand colored cliffs flanking the western border. Dazzling brightness shimmered wherever one looked.

  Nervousness aside, Kiernan was excited to show Beck the place where she was raised. She never dared to dream that she would ever have the chance to do so.

  She glanced back. Beck must have read all of the different emotions playing across her face because he gave her one of his small smiles that told her he understood what she was going through. She returned the smile and then looked forward and erased all anxiety from her face as she mentally steeled herself for the commotion her unexpected arrival was sure to create.

  Captain Nash led the way through the throng of tents that made up the public marketplace outside of the walled city. Hawkers eagerly promoted their wares as they offered trinkets made of beads, ribbons, cloth, dyes, tools, and even delicious smelling cinnamon cakes and sausages. The aromas were mouth-watering to Kiernan who had only eaten a small serving of fruit and cheese that morning.

  They passed charlatans dressed in colorful headdresses attempting to seduce customers into their establishments with the promise of rich fortunes in their futures, and a man with a painted face walking on stilts to the delight of the children following behind him.

  On any given day, the sight of the Royal Guard returning to the city escorting travelers would be cause for hushed whispers and speculation. Today, sight of the enormous, snow white Draca Cat padding regally in front of the Guard sent the people in the market into a frenzy, and the shouts rang out.

  “It’s Bajan! Look Bajan has returned!”

  “It cannot be Bajan. He is exiled with the Princess!”

  “If Bajan has returned, do you think the Princess is here?”

  Now, they were rushing forward, necks craning to get a glimpse of the travelers.

  “There she is!”

  Kiernan slowly and deliberately lowered the hood of her cloak so there could be no mistake.

  A cheer went up from the people of Nysa and they all dropped to one knee.

  The Princess of Men was home.

  Chapter 13

  THE LAND OF MEN

  Beck felt as if he entered another world when the wide iron outer doors of Nysa opened in front of him. He had never seen so many buildings, and lights, and people in his entire life. A veritable maze of streets and alleyways branched off in every direction from the main cobblestone thoroughfare that led to the royal palace, and a wide variety of shops and stately two-story manors lined the periphery. None of the modest buildings and homes in Pyraan compared to the opulence in Nysa, and Beck felt vaguely out of place. He could see now why Kiernan always felt so trapped in Pyraan. After having grown up with all of the bustle and luxury of a large city, the much smaller Parsis must have seemed very remote and backwards to the young girl.

  As was the case outside of the city, the Nysians bent a knee to Kiernan when they saw her, but Beck noticed that two people, a man and a woman, only bowed their heads to her. When he asked Kiernan why this was so, she explained that because they were a higher-ranking Lord and Lady of King Maximus’ Court rather than the common folk, a nod was acceptable.

  Common folk? Am I not common folk?

  Suddenly feeling awkward by the displays of veneration to the girl he loved, he fell back in line. Bajan had no such difficulties. He strolled along Kiernan and endured the excited welcome of the people with the posture of a cat getting his ears scratched.

  Rogan nudged his horse up next to his and whispered, “We have been extremely lucky so far, Beck, but somebody very soon is going to notice our large, scary friend over here,” he said, jerking a thumb at Titus.

  “I know. Any ideas?”

  He nodded. “As soon as we get to the palace, the groomsmen working the stables will come to get the horses. I will tell them we have a sick friend and ask if he can lie down in one of the lofts in the stables. Airron can help me get him inside out of sight while you and Kiernan talk to the King.”

  Beck raised an appreciative eyebrow. “It might work. Go tell Airron and Titus so they can play their roles, and I will talk to Kiernan. Rory and Bajan can come with us.” He rode back up to the front next to Kiernan, and informed her of Rogan’s idea.

  She nodded in agreement. “It will be better if I can explain Titus to my father before he actually lays eyes on him.”

  “What do you think your father is going to do about Ravener’s demand for surrender?”

  Kiernan barked out a laugh. “You have never met my father, Beck. He will not take kindly to this ultimatum and will fight like a cornered lion to protect his people.”

  Beck’s stomach clenched as he thought of his parents and the rest of the shifters in Pyraan. “You saw what happened when we decided to fight.”

  She turned to look at him. “Are you saying you think we should just give up?”

  “Of course not!” he said at once. “But you now know what a Mage of Adrian Ravener’s power is capable of.” He reached over to grab her hand. “We need to get to Galen Starr.”

  Kiernan shook her head. “My father will not want to hear that, Beck, nor will any of the people of Iserlohn. They mistrust magic. They will want to fight the only way they know how. With swords.”

  “And that is the fight we must avoid at all costs,” he said ruefully.

  With Rogan, Airron, and Titus safely tucked away in the stables, Captain Nash and half a dozen of the Royal Guard led Kiernan and Bajan, along with Beck and Rory toward the sweeping stairs of the palace that led upward to the wide double doors bearing the Golden Lion sigil of House Everard. A trumpeter from the balcony above the doors signaled the royal procession refrain, but it was unnecessary. Word had traveled fast, and people were already lining both sides of the entrance waiting to greet her and her party. Those gathered were in all manner of dress from soldier uniform to servant livery to formal attire.

  Tears welled in Kiernan’s eyes as she greeted and hugged people she had not seen in years.

  “Kiernan!” The shriek came from the top of the stairs, and a pretty, dark-haired girl came running toward her with skirts lifted high in both hands exposing her leather ankle boots and a bit of leg stocking. The girl ignored a disapproving look from one of the older women on the stairs and threw herself into Kiernan’s arms. She was shorter and softer in body than Kiernan and had gorgeous dark blue eyes.

  “It is so good to see you, Larkin,” smiled Kiernan, breaking the embrace to stare at her friend. “I have missed you so much, and I have so much to tell you!” Just like that, she was twelve years old again, anxious to share all of her secrets. She grabbed Larkin’s hand and led her to Beck and Rory. “Beck, I would like to introduce my friend, Larkin Malley. Larkin, this is Beck Atlan.”

  Beck nodded politely, and Larkin’s face lit up in an admiring glance.

  Kiernan stepped down one stair to ruffle Rory’s hair. “And, this little man is Rory Greeley.”

  “Hello, Rory.”

  Rory also nodded to Larkin.

&nb
sp; “Well, well,” came a deep alto voice from behind Kiernan. “If it isn’t my little girl come home.”

  Kiernan spun around.

  “Miss Belle!” she yelled and ran up the stairs to bury her face in the ample bosom of the dark-skinned woman.

  “Hello, child,” she said, rubbing the back of Kiernan’s long hair. “It has been much too long. And look at you! You are as thin as a reed!”

  Kiernan smiled. “I have missed you, Miss Belle. Where is father?”

  “Oh, that ole curmudgeon should be on his way. Let’s get you inside and cleaned up and fed first.” She gestured for Beck, Rory, and Bajan to follow. “You, too, Mistress Larkin. I know you won’t want to be away from Kiernan now that she is home.”

  Kiernan ran back down to thread her arm through Larkin’s and sighed with relief. Beyond her greatest hope, the people of Nysa seemed genuinely pleased at her return. She wondered if they truly accepted that she was a magic user or if they just chose to believe that the rumor was untrue.

  She stopped in her tracks when she noticed her father standing at the top of the stairs in front of the open palace doors. As soon as she saw the look in his eyes, she realized that her relief may have been premature.

  Kiernan did not remember later if it was her magic that warned her or she had actually heard the thrum of the bowstring as it was released. Either way, a fraction of a second after noticing her father on the steps above, her head snapped to the right and she pushed Larkin to the side as she drew her sword over her back and swung it in a sweeping arc high overhead to cut the hurtling arrow out of the air.

  Captain Nash, who was a step below Kiernan and her party, immediately shouted, “Assassin! The King!” The two Sabers who preceded the King out of the palace, crashed into him, pitching him backwards onto the marble floor of the foyer. The young Captain then flung himself down the steps and leapt onto the shooter, sending the second shot of the would-be murderer flying wide. The assassin fell to the ground and tried to shake the Royal Saber off his back, but Captain Nash’s knee between his shoulder blades kept him pinned down. Then, without hesitation, the Captain lifted the head of the hooded man with one arm and drew his knife across his throat. The man’s head thudded onto the cobblestones, blood spraying onto the ground.