Seirsha of Errinton Read online

  Pippa eyes the iktar in the low light of predawn. “I didn’t intend to make a habit of it.”

  My eyes are on the beasts, and I don’t bother to look at her. “I didn’t peg you for the squeamish type.”

  “I didn’t peg you for an iktar beast slayer.”

  “Well.” I shrug. “We’re not able to hunt dragons anymore.”

  “Was that a joke?” Pippa turns to Archer. “I do believe Seirsha just made a joke.”

  Unable to help myself, I roll my eyes.

  Rigel is already drawing his bow. “How many do you intend to take to the village?”

  “Only one for today. I don’t want the meat to go to waste.”

  I truly hope Rella won’t turn her nose up at it.

  Rigel’s aim is true, and the iktar goes down easily. We ride to the creature, and the men make quick work of the beast. I avert my eyes. I’m not sensitive, but I don’t necessarily want to watch, either.

  “This reminds me of the scavenger hunt when we watched Rigel take down his boar,” Pippa says. “Remember that Archer?”

  Rigel sits back on his heels and shoots the princess a baffled look.

  She grins. “You heard us in the woods, remember? You called out.”

  Rigel looks as if he’s sifting through memories. His lips twitch, and I know he’s secured the one. He shakes his head and simply goes back to his chore. Pippa finds this especially amusing.

  The day is just beginning to lighten when we reach the village. I knock on the cottage door and shift impatiently. Finally, Antone answers.

  “Seirsha.” He’s surprised to see me. His face pales when he takes in my company, and he bows his head. “My Lords, Princesses.”

  “It’s fine, Antone,” I assure him. “They’re friends.”

  He moves to usher us inside, but then he sees the meat on our horses. Surprised, he looks at me in question.

  “It’s iktar,” I whisper, embarrassed by the quality of the meat I’ve brought. “I wish I could bring something—”

  “Princess,” Antone interrupts. “This is too much. We can’t accept this.”

  Blast these Errintonian men and their dragon-slayer pride.

  “Not only can you accept it, but you will.” I cross my arms. “I’m only sorry it’s not beef or venison.”

  Antone looks at me in question. “There is nothing wrong with iktar. It’s a bit stringy, and the dragons won’t eat it, but the meat is good.”

  Pippa smiles at a wreath of dried flowers hanging over a window. She looks back. “Then why don’t you hunt them?”

  “Only the titled may hunt in Errinton,” Rigel answers for Antone. His eyes go dark, and I know he recalls the way things were when his family was in power. “And as a rule, the titled won’t eat iktar.”

  “Too good to eat the dragon’s unwanted portions,” I add.

  “Can’t the villagers obtain a permit to hunt?” Pippa asks.

  Rigel shakes his head.

  She grumbles something under her breath and then examines a whittled sheep on the kitchen table.

  Rella and Bea appear from the back bedroom. They look as exhausted as Antone. It’s early, but the sun is almost up. They shouldn’t be this bleary-eyed. I hope they’re not coming down with something.

  “Seirsha.” Bea ignores the others as she skirts around the table and comes to me. “What are you doing here?” Then she sees the men bringing in the meat. “Where did that come from?”

  I tell her, and she looks as if she might faint. She clasps her arms around me, squeezing me tight. I pat her back a few times and step away.

  Rella surveys the meat. “We’ll have to share it. We can’t eat it all before it goes bad.”

  “You could smoke it,” Archer says.

  Rigel shakes his head. “It would draw attention, and then they would be questioned.”

  “But we’ve done nothing wrong,” I argue. “We’re titled. By law, we are allowed to hunt.”

  “It’s best not to draw attention, Seirsha. If Bowen were to find out, he would put a stop to it.”

  I clench my hands, thinking. “Share it.”

  Rigel nods. “Be discreet about it, but let the people know we can get more.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  I don’t like the mines. The air is oddly stale, and I feel as if the cavern is going to cave in on me. The sound of axes picking at the rock echoes from some dark passage, and the noise further sets me on edge. It’s nothing like Adrinel’s lair.

  Rigel gives my arm a squeeze. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course.”

  I don’t think he believes me.

  “Some people feel claustrophobic in the caverns,” he says.

  Yes, that’s the feeling. The walls are closing in, and there’s no air.

  “I’m fine, Rigel.”

  “The steely grip on my arm would say otherwise.”

  Ready to snarl a reply, I look over. I forget what I was going to say when I see the grin on his face.

  He leans close, laughing quietly. “You know, for an Errintonian princess, you’re a bit timid.”

  I motion to the tunnel. “Why are we here again?”

  “I want to show you the drachite.”

  “Haven’t I seen it?” I ask as we wander farther down the tunnel. “Large green rock on your workbench?”

  Rigel laughs, wraps his arm around my shoulder, and pulls me flush against his side. He only holds me for a moment before he lets me free to take a more proper position. I accept his arm.

  As we continue on, Rigel calls his greetings to the men we pass. It continues to surprise me the loyalty the young lord unconsciously demands. The workers return his greetings with friendly ones of their own, and many stop to chat.

  We’re just turning down another tunnel when a man comes up behind us and says, “Excuse me, Lord Rigel.”

  The dull flicker from the torches fixed on the stone walls does little to illuminate the tunnel, and his face is half shadowed.

  “There is a man asking for work,” the man continues. “He says he was sent here by the Prince of Glendon?”

  Rigel looks startled. “Galinor?”

  “I believe so.”

  Curiosity replaces surprise, and Rigel motions for the man to lead the way. I breathe easier when I spot the faint light at the end of the cavern.

  We step into the sunshine, and I feel as if a weight has been lifted from my lungs.

  “You’d make a poor miner,” Rigel whispers in my ear.

  My lips twitch, but I hide my smile. “Thankfully, it’s not a trade I plan to pursue.”

  A man with the look of a person unaccustomed to waiting stands near the entrance of the mine. The first thing I notice is the long scar that starts at his hairline, crosses his eye, and ends at his chin. The second is the distrustful look he directs at Rigel. That look turns to disgust when his gaze travels to me.

  I miss a step, but Rigel tucks my hand closer, and we press on.

  Undaunted by the man’s obvious ire, Rigel steps up to him, his expression as controlled as ever. “You seek work?”

  The man clenches his jaw as if he’s regretting his decision now that he’s in front of Rigel. “I was sent by Galinor of Glendon.”

  Rigel crosses his arms, assessing the man. “You are a slayer.”

  The man’s eyes flash with irritation. “I was a slayer.”

  “How are you acquainted with Galinor?”

  The man smirks and glances at the dark cavern entrance before he turns back to Rigel. “He hired me as a guide to hunt iktar, and I attempted to rob him and his lady.”

  I startle at his truthful answer, but other than a shadow of humor in Rigel’s eyes, he doesn’t flinch. “And he sent you to me?”

  “He said you would have honest work.”

  “That sounds like Galinor,” Rigel says, flashing me a look before he turns back to assess the man. “Have you mined before?”

  The slayer’s jaw works again. “No.”

  “What�
��s your name?”

  The man crosses his arms, mimicking Rigel. “Penrith of Bourke.”

  Rigel nods. “I’ll pay you one gold piece for every two carts you fill.”

  “And by the week?”

  “I don’t pay by the week; I pay by the cart.”

  The man snorts. “Fine.”

  “If you want gold, you will work for it.” Rigel takes a step forward. “And if you attempt to rob me or one of my men, you will regret it.”

  The promise hangs in the air. I hold my breath as the two men face each other, neither’s pride allowing them to yield.

  Penrith breaks first and shifts his weight. “If you pay me, I’ll have no reason to steal from you, will I? Now, where do I begin?”

  Rigel calls to the man who led us from the cavern, and he takes Penrith away.

  “Do you trust him?” I ask.

  Rigel takes my hand and twines his fingers through mine. “Only as far as my sword reaches.”

  “Then why did you give him work?”

  He chuckles, a sound from deep in his throat. “They all come to me like that.”

  “Hostile?”

  Rigel nods. “We’ll see how he takes to the work. I may have another trade in mind.”

  Instead of going back to the mine, Rigel leads me down a path through the forest. Even up here, summer has arrived. Dirty gray bits of ice and snow hide under trees and other shady spots, too stubborn to melt. The breeze chills my cheeks, but I am almost too warm under my cloak.

  “What would you do with him?” I step around fallen boulders in the path, careful to avoid a mud puddle. “And why aren’t we going back into the mine?”

  Rigel raises an eyebrow and tugs me back. “We can return if you want to…”

  “No.” I give him a light jab in his side for his teasing. “This is better.”

  The warm, soothing sound of his laughter sets off a flurry of flutters in my stomach. He starts down the path again. His meandering pace hints that he has no destination in mind, but I am more than content to follow him.

  “Penrith is of the family line of Bourke,” Rigel says. “The name carries a minor lordship granted at one time for a service rendered.”

  The words soak in. I pull him to a stop and turn toward him. “You’re going to have him hunt iktar.”

  There’s a catch in my throat, and I don’t really know why.

  Rigel sets his hands on my shoulders. “Did you see how grateful they were? How much the meat meant to them? I wish I had thought of it sooner.” He looks up, watching the lazy clouds pass across the sky. “It’s humbling to see how thankful they are for such an insignificant creature—something I had thought so below me, I never even bothered to notice.”

  I nod, unable to find my voice.

  “Penrith could easily take down a few a day and distribute them amongst the villages. We’ll keep it quiet, of course—he’ll hang if your father finds out.

  Rigel pauses, thinking.

  “We’ve thousands upon thousands of the beasts in Errinton. The herds won’t suffer,” he continues and then nods, as if the idea is solidifying in his head and he likes the direction it’s taking. “It’s a start even if it’s only a temporary solution. Soon, after the armor begins to sell, I can open more mines. I will reestablish the armorsmith guilds—” He stops, startled. “Seirsha, why are you crying?”

  Rigel’s voice is soft and warm, and it makes the tears come faster. He wraps his arms around me and draws me close. I cling to him, and the smell of summer envelopes us. I blink back the tears.

  Rigel looks back at me, and he appears both confused and a little helpless.

  I let out a shaky breath and laugh at the expression on his face. “This must be what hope feels like.”

  He laughs with me and holds me tighter.

  A month ago I was in love with the memory of Rigel. Today, I know without doubt, I am in love with the man of present. I pull away so I can look up at him.

  He gives me a hesitant half-smile as he wipes away the last of the tears from my cheeks.

  “I can’t read the look in your eyes,” he says.

  I take his chin and tilt his head down. “I am in love with you, Lord Rigel.”

  I’ve startled him, and he blinks his mesmerizing gray eyes.

  Then I whisper, “I just thought you should know.”

  He takes my face in his hands, searching my eyes with his. I let the shield drop. Let him see what he will. I’m as vulnerable in this moment as I’ll ever be, and I don’t care.

  “Marry me, Seirsha,” he breathes. “I know we can’t now. Just give the promise that someday you’ll be mine.”

  I clasp my hands on his arms to steady myself. His hands drift from my face down my arms, and then they find my hands. I close my eyes and let the words soak in as I commit this moment to memory. When I open them, I find Rigel waiting. His expression is guarded but hopeful.

  With all my heart, I want to say yes. There are so few nobles who choose who they marry—so few are able to marry for affection. And none but Father would doubt the wisdom of the alliance.

  “Yes.” I laugh out loud. “Yes,” I say again, marveling at the word.

  Rigel’s grin is fast and bright, and it makes my heart stutter. He pulls me toward him, and, with the sunshine warm on our shoulders and birds singing from the budding trees, he kisses me. Just as the winter has made way for summer, I feel we’re on the precipice of something new and warm and beautiful.

  “When?” I ask.

  He strokes my hair. “Your father won’t agree yet. I swear to you, I’ll find a way, but it will take time.”

  I shake my head. “Father will never agree.”

  I set my head on his shoulder and close my eyes, drinking the sensation of him in.

  “We could elope,” I murmur, but even as I say the words, I know he will never desert Errinton, even if for only a short time.

  He shakes his head. “We won’t run away.”

  Suddenly I realize how hopeless this is. It’s a beautiful thought but an impossible reality. Still, we can pretend for a few more moments. Reality can wait.

  I bite my lip and then whisper the last hope in my heart, “We could marry quietly, keep it to ourselves.”

  “In secret?” A spark flickers across his face, but immediately resignation taking the place of hope. “No. You deserve more than that.”

  “All I want is to be yours,” I say. “I don’t care about the ceremony or the gown. Truly, I feel it would be too much of an extravagance when our people are starving.”

  “Say we even find a bishop that would agree to marry us without your father’s consent, who knows how long it will be before we can truly be together?” He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against mine. “I would give you the world, but stolen moments are all I have to offer.”

  “I would treasure each and every one of them.”

  I kiss him softly, coaxing him to look at me. He studies me before he wraps his arms around my waist and sets his head against my hair. He’s thinking, deciding. I hold my breath, hoping he’ll make the decision my heart desperately desires.

  “I’ll see if I can find a bishop,” he finally says. “But do not get your hopes up, Seirsha. Few will be willing to defy the king.”

  Elated, I give him a cheeky smile. “That’s why none will refuse you.”

  He turns stern. “We must be careful who we put our trust in.”

  Again, I lay my head on his shoulder. “I trust you.”

  ***

  I’m expecting the knock at my door, but I still start when I hear it. Pippa and Bea look up from their needlework, expectant looks on their faces. Pippa sets aside the tiny gown she’s stitching for her brother’s new daughter. For all the princess’s whining about domestic pastimes, her embroidery is exquisite.

  “He’s back!” Bea’s face lights up. “Open it!”

  Two weeks earlier, Rigel wrote a letter to Prince Galinor in Glendon asking for his assistance. News returned fo
ur days ago that Galinor is in Triblue with his new bride. Teagan, the Crown Prince of Glendon, responded in his place. Rigel rode to meet him immediately. Leaving the castle for an extended time is a risk; Father would be furious to know he’s left without permission.

  Fortunately, Father is still mad with plans and calculations for obtaining his forbidden sculpture. I haven’t even seen him for weeks.

  My hand trembles, and I attempt to compose myself. I swing the door open, a smile already on my face.

  “Argus.” I conceal my shock. “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s nice to see you as well, Princess,” the knight says wryly. “King Bowen has summoned a council meeting this evening. You are expected to attend.”

  Fear strikes me, cold and quick. “What time?”

  “Eight o’clock.”

  I begin to shut the door, but Argus catches it with a firm hand.

  “None can find Lord Rigel,” he says. “His Majesty believes you know where he may be. Pass the message to him, will you?”

  I nod, hoping my eyes won’t betray my anxiousness.

  Argus smiles a mirthless smirk and makes a show of removing his hand from the door. He turns on his heel and stalks down the hall, calling behind him, “Pleasant afternoon, Your Highness.”

  My hand stays on the door even after I shut it. One breath, two—I gulp in air, but even though my eyes are closed, vertigo threatens to take me.

  Bea sets her hand on my shoulder. “Rigel’s supposed to return today.” She gives me a reassuring look. “And he will.”

  I turn and lean against the door. “But what if he doesn’t?”

  Father would be all too eager to use Rigel as an example. What will he do to him?

  Pippa picks up her embroidery again and waves the whole thing in the air. With a calm I can’t imagine, she says, “Tell them he’s eaten something off and is desperately ill. Make it repulsive enough, and none will care to check for themselves.”

  For a moment, I almost forget my panic. I stare at her, my mouth open in surprise.

  She looks up when I don’t answer. The princess shrugs, giving me a wicked grin. “It’s worked before.”

  I shake my head, trying to think. When nothing comes to me, I join the girls. Bea takes up her darning again, and I pick up my discarded square just to set it on my lap. Instead of working on it, I run my fingers over my pendant. It’s more than a gift now; it symbolizes a promise.