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Morning sunlight warmed Eliya’s face as she rode on horseback through Ariym’s streets for the last time, watching as the capitol’s citizens lifted their hands toward her lord-father, who rode ahead, leading Eliya away from home.
The revered Torena, and Eliya’s maidservant, Vaiya, followed her on horseback, their veils floating in the gentle air, their garments glittering with beaded embroideries. Behind them lumbered a string of supply carts, all laden for her journey. Including the sumptuously gilded and cushioned violet wagon, built to shelter her in luxury from all storms as she traveled. But such luxuries wouldn’t shelter her for long if Trisguard’s lord-king and citizens despised her.
She must try to focus on this final farewell to Ariym. On this glorious morning, tinged with salt-breezes from the ocean in the distance.
Though the breezes didn’t dispel the incense clouds from each street corner where the faithful were paying silver to the Chaplet priests, whose blessings preserved their souls from condemnation before the Eternal.
Yet even the faithful turned from their prayers beneath the priests’ hands to gaze up at her in wonderment.
Eliya’s violet and gold robes, her tiara, veils, and magnificently caparisoned horse—draped with cloth of gold and rich tassels—informed all of Ariym that this was no ordinary procession.
Merchants hailed her and citizens whistled and waved farewell as she rode past.
She waved and smiled now and then, but why mask her sorrow? Most likely, she’d never see Ariym and its citizens again.
Her grief increased as she rode after her lord-father along Ariym’s largest and most stately stone bridge across the River Tynm. As soon as her entire cavalcade had crossed the bridge departing from Ariym, Rodiades dismounted and motioned Eliya down from her horse.
She mustn’t cry. Her lord-father was smiling, and she’d shame him with tears.
He opened his gold-draped arms and lifted his hands as Eliya approached. “Here we part—my beautiful treasure.” He kissed her forehead. “May Trisguard love you as richly as you deserve, and may you be crowned with honor!” Lowering his voice, he whispered, “Don’t be afraid! Except for its lack of an ocean and its overabundance of trees and cold air, Trisguard’s cities are the very image of Ariym in magnificence and spirit.”
Exactly as she’d feared. Cities full of incense-burning Chaplet faithful, who’d turn against her the instant they realized she’d abandoned Chaplet ways for the Liege. She managed a smile for her lord-father, then kissed his whiskered cheek. “Thank you, my lord, for everything! I pray to deserve your trust and love.”
Did she fancy he blinked down a few tears? If the tears were genuine, they vanished swiftly as Rodiades handed her over to his designated representative of Khelqua—Valo.
Rodiades lifted his chin at Valo, then pressed his ring-decked hands on Valo’s shoulders. “Remember our conversation. Guard your sister and note everything you see in Trisguard, however unimportant. I want to breathe the very scent of northern air as I read your letters.”
He kissed them both, then offered a smiling nod to the somber Lord-king Danek of the Walhaisii before riding away.
Immediately, Valo took charge. “Hurry. Let’s leave the river valley and ride up to the Jizni Plains before the humidity suffocates us. If I have my way, we’ll be in the mountains within three days.”
Eliya scowled at him. “Don’t rush me.”
“Don’t worry. I will.”
ELIYA INHALED THE SCENT of the cedars bordering the sloping, sun-warmed clearing. How kind of Lord-king Danek to halt their journey early this evening at Walhaisii realm’s border, so that tomorrow morning, she’d catch a final glimpse of Khelqua from the highland’s foothills.
She turned from her view of the Jizni Plains and Khelqua’s endless green river valley, then studied the lord-king’s profile as he stood a short distance away, talking to several of his men. The Walhaisii lord-king needed no crown or golden robes to proclaim his authority—his men obviously respected him. Not to mention that he was splendid to behold.
If only he could be Laros Rakiar.
Valo stepped in front of Eliya, blocking her view. “Look away from him, sister. Doesn’t your admiration belong only to your husband?”
He was serious. By all Creation, her usually charming and flirtatious younger brother was turning old and judgmental before her eyes. Eliya muttered, “I can admire whomever I please, yet remain faithful to my husband! In fact, I was just thinking of Rakiar. I pray he’s a good man. Now, leave me alone.”
Valo opened his mouth to argue. Until the world shivered beneath their feet.
The tremors increased, their ferocity swaying the magnificent cedars around the small meadow—shaking Eliya until she rocked backward.
Danek rushed toward them, grabbed Eliya’s arm, and bellowed at Valo. “Center of the clearing! Everyone to the center of the clearing!”
Eliya tottered beneath the king’s grip, then found her footing and ran with him to the center of the clearing.
Every member of her household and official cavalcade followed.
At the clearing’s sloping edge where she’d been standing, cedars groaned and fell down the crumbling hillside. Far below, the vast river valley heaved, then opened like a rotting wineskin bursting at its seams, unleashing torrents of red-ochre waters from rifts torn into the land.
BATHED IN THE SUNSET’S crimson rays, accompanied by Lord-king Danek, Valo stood as near as he dared to the slope’s crumbling edge. In silence, they stared down the devastated hillside into Khelqua’s vast river valley below. Muddied red waters continued to spread from the fractured lands. Would the torrents fill the whole river valley? That staggering quake was the worst he’d ever experienced, and they’d suffered many in Ariym.
Had this quake shaken Ariym as badly as the flooding valley below? Undoubtedly his family was safe—
A light hand pressed his arm. Eliya halted beside him, gazing at the destruction below, her beautiful clean-cut profile tinged red in the sunlight. When she finally spoke, his sister’s voice emerged half-choked, raw with grief for the quake’s victims. “We were down there just a few hours ago! I hope the destruction and deaths aren’t as extensive as they appear.”
Just a few hours ago .... Valo drew in a quick breath. “If we hadn’t hurried, we’d have been down there. Possibly swept away in those waters.”
Still staring at the devastated valley, Eliya pressed her hands to her face and whispered through her fingers, “I pray our family’s well. We’ll send a messenger to Ariym tomorrow morning and ....”
Her words faded. She frowned, staring intently at the far horizon. “Look at that odd cloud forming along the skyline.”
Valo studied the sweeping cloud-haze that hugged the horizon, its distance making him squint. Above the vast cloud-bank, the sky remained ruddy and clear. “Eliya, that’s no cloud.”
From behind them, Danek exhaled, his verdict weighed with intense concern. “That’s water.”
Eliya shook her head. “Impossible. Not covering that much of the horizon. It’s a fog bank.”
Another tremor shook the slope. Eliya tugged Valo away from the incline. When the tremor eased, she looked back at the smudged horizon. “It must be a fog bank.”
No. Valo stared hard. The supposed fog darkened, enfolding the land as it stole along the horizon. If only Eliya could be right, but he couldn’t blame her for preferring to misunderstand what she saw.
Silent, standing with Danek and Eliya, Valo watched Khelqua’s horizon vanish beneath the sunset.
DANEK MUTED HIS BREATH, and his inward horror. An onslaught of waters threatened Khelqua’s very existence as he watched. Was this the fulfillment of the Eternal Liege’s prophesied warning before His death?
Danek closed his eyes and prayed for the devastated realm below.
ANOTHER PRE-DAWN QUAKE shivered through the clearing, jolting Eliya from a bleary-eyed doze in front of the open campfire. Beside her, wide awake, Revered Torena whispered prayers beneath her breath and clutched her most cherished possession—a copy of the Rone’en.
If any of Lord-king Danek’s followers were Chaplet fanatics and recognized Torena’s prayers to her Beloved Liege, they’d ridicule Torena at the very least—or persecute her openly if Danek approved. Thankfully, Torena’s copy of the Sacred Words was covered in plain, unmarked leather, and her prayers remained whispered.
Eliya looked away from her revered-lady teacher. After witnessing last night’s devastation in the river valley below, her own soul skittered between prayers on behalf of Khelqua, and silent inward pleas toward the Eternal. “Why?”
Beside her, Torena straightened. “What did you ask, Lady Eliya?”
“Nothing.” Eliya stood and inhaled. Salt air tinged a hushed, pre-dawn breeze. Ocean air. Impossible. Her sleep-deprived senses were playing tricks on her.
Even so, she must see how Khelqua’s vast river-valley realm had fared throughout the night. Had the waters ebbed?
She stood, eased her aching back and cramped legs, then walked down to the sloping western edge of the clearing. Valo joined her, silent as they stood and waited, inhaling sharp-humid air, and watching the day’s first light touch the realm of Khelqua below.
At last, an ocean’s endless vista met her gaze, avowing nothing but drowned life beneath its dark, rippling surface. Agony halted the breath in Eliya’s lungs as she stared. She must still be asleep, caught in some appalling nightmare from which she’d wake.
Khelqua lay beneath a death-shadowed sea. In the dawn-lit skies above, far-flung hordes of scavenger-birds circled and glided over the dark waters, then dove toward the first reflections off the endless waves, feasting on the ocean-borne plunder of death.
Beside Eliya, Valo exhaled a low noise of mourning, and Torena began to sob. Eliya collapsed onto the quake-loosened soil and wailed.
DANEK STOOD GUARD OVER the royal siblings as they mourned with their household and cavalcade of servants. If that ocean of dead waters ever drained, no sane person would resettle Khelqua’s river valley. The prophesied reckoning had washed away everything. Had the Royal house of Khelqua and Ariym also been crushed and drowned beneath the foretold destruction of its vast river valley? Did Khelqua’s ancient lineage now rest upon the two homeless royal younglings?
Princess Eliya’s revered teacher stood and wiped her face, her expression bleak. She approached Danek and murmured, “This was foretold by the Liege, but how I prayed I wouldn’t live to see it!”
“Agreed.” Danek took refuge in silence. The morning skies brightened—an appalling contrast to the waters below. Every small village and fine city they’d passed in three days of travel through Khelqua was gone. Citizens, crops, cattle ... all gone.
If he squinted, Danek caught hints of faraway spires in the ocean. Sailing across those waters would be treacherous. When he could no longer endure the sight, Danek motioned two of his watching guardsmen forward. He’d send them to request volunteers and boats from his people.
A rescue expedition might console the Lady Eliya and young Valo.
SEATED BEFORE THE CAMP’S cook-fire, Eliya covered her swollen eyes with her cold hands. The quakes and flood weren’t real. She was delusional. Better to be insane than admit such a disaster had happened.
Nonetheless, when she opened her eyes, smears of dirt and grass offered evidence that she’d knelt and mourned her country’s destruction. Khelqua’s citizens and cities were swept away. Her family ... Iscah ... Jesca ... No. They were safe.
Ariym, just beyond the horizon, built upon high stone foundations, was undoubtedly safe, dry, though shaken by the quakes. She swiped at a grass-stain on her gown. “We’ll send an envoy to the northern realms to tell Lord-king Laros what’s happened, and that I’ll be delayed.”
“No.” Valo, seated to her left, shook his head, his red-rimmed eyes remarkably stern. “You must honor the contract and arrive as pledged. Our lord-father gave his word.”
Must? She glared at him. “But you’re returning home.”
“As soon as I find out what’s happened, I’ll catch up with you,” he promised. “We’ll both go mad, not knowing the extent of the disaster. If the whole river valley’s an ocean ...”
His voice trailed off, sinking with their mutual unspoken fear. If the whole river valley was now an ocean, how could Ariym have escaped? She and Valo deluded themselves thinking otherwise.
Eliya rubbed fresh tears from her eyes. She blinked to clear her vision, and saw the Walhaisii lord-king approaching, his riding boots mud-smeared, his strong features grim. He nodded sympathetically to Eliya, then crouched near Valo, speaking to them both. “My men and I believe that if some of your servants ride north without venturing into the valley, they’ll have a view of the lands east of Ariym within two days. Unless the Walhaisiis’ lower valleys are also flooded.”
Eliya straightened. “If the lower valleys are flooded, then they’ll be delayed for considerably longer.”
“It’s possible,” Danek admitted. “But I’d venture a guess that your lord-father would insist that you and Lord Valo continue your journey as planned. Why risk your lives in possible rapids or floods in the lower slopes? Your servants and my men are as concerned as we are, and they won’t waste time while bringing us news in the north.”
“Us?” Valo’s dark eyebrows lifted. “Do you intend to accompany us, Lord-king Danek?”
“Yes. You’ll lose a significant number of guardsmen on the scouting mission to the north, therefore my men and I will accompany you to the prearranged meeting place. Once you’ve met up with the northern tetrarch, we’ll part ways. Until then, I’ll ensure your safety.”
Eliya nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
He inclined his head slightly, then strode off to rejoin his men, his self-assurance and concern calming her distress. Valo cleared his throat. When Eliya glanced at him, he grumbled quietly, “It’s for the best that I’m not going on the foray to Ariym. The way you’ve been watching him, as he watches you, Khelqua might have faced a terrible scandal.”
Eliya shoved her brother. “Don’t be insulting!”
He gripped her hand, forcing her to listen. “My perceptions of your behavior aren’t insulting—they’re what anyone else might believe as well. You know how people talk of the least things we do or say. I’m going to tell Torena to not let you out of her sight.”
“She hasn’t. Not even now.” Eliya lifted her chin toward their revered teacher, who stood a discreet distance away, red-eyed as every Khelqua attendant in the camp. Torena noted their subdued squabble and pursed her lips disapprovingly. Eliya said, “You’re perceiving what’s not there, brother, so don’t create a scandal by acting as if one exists. Let’s save our thoughts and hearts for Khelqua. I pray our men return with good news.”
She held Valo’s gaze. They’d always been close—always maintained their relationship as equals, whether plotting mischief or enduring politics and ceremonies. When had he become so dictatorial? Didn’t he realize that they might have no other family to depend upon? He must believe her. And trust her. Meanwhile, unless courtesy demanded it, she wouldn’t risk even a glance at the Walhaisii lord-king. Perhaps, since Valo was so concerned about her behavior, she should hound him instead. “What are you planning to do?”
His forbidding expression remained, but a light grimace crossed his face, making him appear younger than seventeen. “I’ll be checking my gear. Preparing to depart. You?”
“My gear’s ready. I’ll wait with Torena.” She approached her teacher, who’d remained watchful, the Rone’en in her arms. Eliya nodded a greeting. “Revered lady, how are you?”
Torena’s calm, self-certain voice quavered, and tears misted her eyes. “I’m praying, lady. Thank you for asking. Despite the prophecies, I can’t believe what’s happened. To see Khelqua flooded ... buried beneath a sea ...”
Eliya motioned her teacher to sit with her on a small mat near the fire. When they’d settled, Eliya leaned toward her and murmured, “You mentioned the prophecies. You warned me before we left Ariym that you felt compelled to hurry—to leave Ariym, and Khelqua itself. You suspected this disaster would occur, didn’t you?”
Torena sniffled, then exhaled. “I feared it. Ariym’s been suffering those quakes. Ancient plaster and murals that survived for hundreds upon hundreds of years in the palace were suddenly showing cracks and needing repairs ...”
Deliberately gentle-voiced, Ela said, “Yet you didn’t warn my lord-father?”
Her revered-lady teacher straightened. “What could I say to him, lady? Your royal mother—I thank the Eternal for her!—appointed me to teach her children, because she believed the Eternal’s prophecies. But your lord-father loathed the implied weakness of any faith. No. Lord-king Rodiades wouldn’t listen to me about His prophecies. Much less, the Eternal’s forgiveness. After all ... he signed the order for the Immortal Liege to die beneath a shaming chaplet of thorns.”
True. Eliya stared up at the morning skies, her throat aching. Father had tolerated Mother’s faith because he’d loved her. Yet, if Khelqua’s ruin fulfilled the Liege’s prophecies, shouldn’t she trust Him completely? Only the Eternal could foretell such a disaster so accurately.
Eliya stood, hugging herself. “Thank you, Torena.”
As the remnants of her divided cavalcade gathered its goods and supplies, she walked toward the crumbling hillside, edging around the upturned roots of fallen trees. Damp-soil scents met her nostrils before she reached the edge. A sickening miasma of humidity and sun-warmed death set her stomach churning, and in the skies above, giant golden birds circled, hovering over the relentless waters. Golden, glorious birds ... aeryons stooping downward toward the waves like common gulls ... to scavenge carcasses for their morning meal.
Carcasses washed forth from Khelqua’s destruction.
Eliya pressed one sweat-dampened hand over her face, held the other to her stomach, and hurried toward the encampment, passing Lord-king Danek, who’d obviously followed to urge her away from the edge.
Even if her family survived, too many had died. She must convey her grief.
Before her maidservant, Vaiya, or Torena could help her, Eliya unpinned her hair, removed her embroidered purple cloak and bright blue over-gown, then unstrapped her second-best clothing chest and removed her prerequisite mourning clothes.
The black gown, she managed well enough. But the formal mourning cloak ... Tears blurred Eliya’s vision as she struggled with the pins. Vaiya approached, cautiously lifted the tarnished silver pins from Eliya’s hands and then fastened the cloak. Finished, Vaiya spoke, her timid voice congested. “Shall we all wear mourning, lady?”
“Yes. Thank you, Vaiya. Please tell the others.”
Gripping the edges of her cloak, Eliya walked around the carts to rejoin Torena, seated near the ornate wagon. One of the chief guardsmen stood over the revered teacher, his low, harsh words sounding suspiciously foul. He bent and grasped Torena’s opened book and all but shook it from her grasp. “...and you’ve been teaching this to her? To her brothers who’re to rule us? This wretched history book’s dividing our country and smearing our Chaplet faith!”
Torena faced him, strictly composed. “You misunderstand my role in the royal household. I’ve been—”
“Lying!” the man argued. “That’s what your sort does! That’s why we banished you all from Khelqua!”
“Enough!” Eliya stepped between them. “While we’re grieving for Khelqua’s loss, you’re picking quarrels with an esteemed teacher!”
Valo hurried to intercede. “Aretes! Control yourself and return the book to the revered Lady Torena!”
His brown skin rage-reddened, Aretes argued, “With all respect, my lord, why should she be revered for teaching you lies?”
While Torena removed her cherished book from Aretes’ grip, Eliya fixed her gaze on the infuriated Aretes. “You presume to know everything Lord-prince Valo and I’ve learned and believe. You overstep! Return to your duties and pray for your country. We’re resuming our journey.”
Aretes bowed, but his voice remained terse. “Forgive me. Lady. I was overcome. Those ‘sacred’ words of hers have destroyed Khelqua’s peace—even the empire’s peace! Every man and woman possessing that book place themselves above the Chaplet religious and their betters, provoking rebellion against our faith. They’ll start a war that my men and I must finish.”
Valo snarled, “You’re still overcome if you’re addressing us so disrespectfully and ignoring orders. Return to your men!”
The guardsman backed away, then pivoted on his booted heel to rejoin his watching men. But he complained to the air as he walked away—allowing everyone to hear. “We’ve been guarding a word-twisting, Rone’en cultist!”
Lord-king Danek and his men stepped into Aretes intended path. When Aretes started to protest, Danek bellowed, “Silence!”
The roared command echoed through the clearing. Aretes hushed. The Walhaisii lord-king didn’t lower his powerful voice. Instead, he articulated each syllable for the entire encampment to hear. “The journey ahead is too difficult to waste time quarreling! We will have peace among us, and do not forget that you are all in my realm! I rule here! And I will have order!”
His strong features tensed, he strode to consult with Eliya and Valo. To them alone, he muttered, “That man remains insubordinate. You cannot allow him to travel with us unless he’s punished.”
Valo scowled, obviously feeling himself rebuked. Eliya rested a calming hand on her younger brother’s shoulder, then faced Danek. “As you’ve declared, we’re now in your realm. What punishment do you suggest?”
“Strip him of his rank. Put him in plain clothes, and make him walk on foot behind the lowest ranks. Whether his emotions are affected by the recent tragedy or not, who is he to insult one of Khelqua’s revered teachers, much less argue with two of Khelqua’s royal family? Remind him of his place. If he disagrees, he can leave us and return to Khelqua alone.”
If Khelqua still existed. Pushing aside the thought, Eliya glanced up at her brother. “Father would have ordered him beaten and imprisoned, then cast out of service—I’ve seen him handle similar situations. But this decision is yours.”
Valo’s scowl faded, replaced by brooding uncertainty. After a long instant, he nodded at Danek. “I’ll speak to Aretes first and remind him of what my lord-father would have done. This one time, I’ll be merciful. As you say, we’re in your realm.”
Ordering punishments was easy. But watching the punishment effected ... that was a different matter. Eliya held her breath while Aretes stared past her, Valo, and Lord-king Danek as if they didn’t exist.
As Valo pronounced Arete’s punishment, the commander’s face turned mask-like. Emotionless, he set aside his gleaming warrior’s helm, stripped off his golden cloak with its purple insignias of rank, and then his weapons, armor, and official tunic.
As his former men gathered his discarded gear, Aretes bowed, then marched toward the lowest ranks of Eliya’s cavalcade, scar-marked and powerful, his stride and bearing proclaiming his pride and unrepentant fury at guarding ‘Rone’en cultists’. Unarmed, the man remained a threat.
Eliya swallowed her fears and motioned the silent Torena and their attendants to join the cavalcade and depart.
Valo rode beside her as they set out—neither of them risking a final weakening glance at Khelqua’s distant, drowned horizon.
THE NEXT MORNING, VALO greeted her the instant she stepped out of her tent, into the rugged, tree-edged clearing. “That renegade, Aretes, stole his gear and horse, then escaped last night.”
Eliya studied her brother’s somber face. Had he been brooding over Aretes—the first man he’d ever ordered punished? Well, she supposed she’d worry just as much. The man was a potential agitator. “Should we say, ‘good riddance’ or send a hunting party?”
“I sent men to track him at dawn. His trail headed north—toward Khelqua. They believe he intends to join the men we sent to Ariym.”
“Don’t worry.” Eliya hugged his arm as they turned together toward the camp’s central fire. “Most likely, we’re free of him. But if he returns to create trouble, we’ll deal with him.”
Valo covered her hand with his own and gusted out a half-rueful, half-amused breath. “I’m supposed to be guarding you—protecting you—and you’re having to reassure me.”
“Yes, Father would be appalled.”
“The morning we left, he called me to his chamber, blessed me, then told me to guard you with my life. Then again, when we parted. Obviously, he was worried.”
“As if I can’t be trusted.”
“As if you’re his favorite child. You know it’s true.”
“I knew no such thing!” However ... She hesitated. “It would be just like Father to hide a truth.”
“It would,” Valo admitted. “Be that as it may ... you had his favor. But I received the blessing.”
The paternal blessing. Torena would see significance in that. Younger sons who received the paternal blessing were traditionally favored by the Eternal to lead the family. Did Father remember that little custom? Or had he deliberately disregarded Iscah as his heir? Eliya gripped Valo’s arm again. “He burdened you, indeed.”
What if Father and her family were dead? What if she and Valo were the only survivors? If so—
She cut off the dangerous thought and walked with her brother toward the fire and their morning meal.
SHIFTING IN HER SADDLE, Eliya studied the setting sun over her shoulder, then stretched as much as she dared. Five days since the calamity, and she was silly enough to hope that the scouting party would return with good news of Ariym.
Undoubtedly, she was being overly optimistic. Schooling patience into her thoughts, she turned, adjusted her wearied horse’s reins, then gazed ahead. Lord-king Danek had pledged that they’d spend the night in the open plain ahead—at the end of Walhaisii lands, and the beginning of Ceyphraland.
Would she ever visit Ceyphraland with her lord-husband? Perhaps.
She’d rather return to Khelqua.
She’d rather ....
Ahead of her the lead riders lifted their hands, slowing their pace. What could impede them on this plain? As Eliya eyed the lands ahead, Valo and their guards closed ranks around her, and Torena who rode behind her. Why were the guards so tense and silent?
Amid the deepening afternoon light, a peculiar and hushed sight met her gaze. An obviously wealthy cavalcade of gilded wagons and carts very much like her own.
A lifeless cavalcade.
No horses. No evening fires.
Only arrow-and-javelin-spiked bodies—dignitaries and soldiers cruelly massacred.