Mark of the Raven Read online

  A servant opened the door and allowed Damien inside. The room was circular and two stories tall, with arched columns along the first and second story. An enormous round table stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by high-backed chairs. A silver chandelier hung above the table and twinkled with the light of dozens of candles. Past the columns were narrow windows filled with pale light.

  Most of the houses were already gathered. Lord Haruk Rafel was already seated, his silver hair flowing around his dark green robes. Lord Leo Luceras leaned against one of the columns to the left with his arms folded across his chest, his golden hair standing out beneath the candlelight. Lady Ragna stood behind her chair, talking amiably with Lord Ivulf Friere. With a cloak trimmed in grey timber wolf fur and his dark hair captured beneath a thin steel circlet, Lord Ivulf presented an imposing figure. Lord Rune and his sister Lady Runa sat on the right side of the table, talking quietly between themselves.

  Lady Ragna glanced up and spotted Damien. “Grand Lord Damien, thank you for joining us this morning.”

  Damien bowed stiffly. Once again, Lady Ragna was taking control, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  At her announcement, the other grand lords and ladies took a seat around the table. Damien sat with his back to the door. The air held myriad smells, from perfume and scented water to the more earthy smell of mint and hibiscus. He sniffed again and glanced to his left. Lord Haruk looked like he was about to go to sleep with his eyelids half raised and his breathing an even tempo.

  Before Lady Ragna could say any more, Damien spoke up. “House Vivek, please share what has been going on along your borders and the wall.” He sat back and folded his hands across the table. No more getting off point. It was time to direct the talks toward the growing threat of the empire.

  Lord Rune stood, his regal deep purple robes cascading down his wide-set shoulders and long body, accenting his dark skin. He bowed politely to Damien, then the rest of the assembly, then in a deep voice began to talk about the skirmishes along the wall.

  The morning went by, each hour bringing more and more heated discussions. By afternoon, it became apparent to Damien that there was a split between the houses. His house, House Vivek, and House Luceras wanted to start taking action against the encroaching empire. But House Ravenwood, House Friere, and House Rafel did not see any imminent threat. House Ravenwood went so far as to ask if the threat was even real.

  Damien could feel a pulsing headache forming behind his right eye and not for the first time wondered why seven houses had been given gifts to rule the peoples when perhaps only one house would have sufficed. He glanced again at Lady Ragna. Her house did not even have their gift anymore.

  “Harmony is a beautiful thing, my son.” His father’s words echoed in his head. “Yes, it would be easier if there was only one house. But the Light bestowed seven gifts that—when used together—nothing can stand against.”

  Damien rubbed his throbbing eye and sighed. His father had believed so strongly in the unity of the houses that he had formed a secret group to work toward that end. But would his father’s hope come to pass? Looking around, Damien wasn’t so sure. And what about the missing gift? The original members of House Ravenwood had died in the razing, leaving it a Great House in title and land only.

  Could six gifts accomplish what seven gifts were originally supposed to do? And House Merek had not even bothered to show up for the assembly, bringing those gifts down to five, assuming the houses present could even cooperate with one other.

  I wish I knew what you had planned, Father, Damien thought silently.

  By late afternoon, it was clearly time for the discussions to end for the day. Damien motioned for an adjournment, and Lady Ragna invited the houses to dinner.

  He stood and stretched his arms up, releasing cramped muscles along his back and shoulders. What he needed was a bit of exercise to loosen up muscles not accustomed to being lethargic. Perhaps there would be time for that tomorrow, before the talks resumed.

  Damien followed the other lords and ladies out. Moments after he exited the doorway, Sten joined him. As they headed back to their own rooms, a muffled horn rang out across Rook Castle.

  He glanced toward the open archways that overlooked the main part of the castle. Far off in the distance, past the ramparts and above the Magyr peaks, three dark shapes glided along white clouds.

  Damien stepped closer to the nearest archway and watched the shapes approach. They looked like large birds, only the wings were wrong. More like a bat, but scaly—

  His eyes widened and a ball of warmth expanded across his chest. He grinned and clutched the edge of the archway and leaned out. There was no mistaking those creatures. The famous wyverns of the Southern Isles. And upon them rode the lords of House Merek.

  He wanted to whoop and thrust a fist into the air, but it would appear too youthful, so he contented himself with smiling and watching the approaching entourage. So Grand Lord Malrin had decided to come after all. Although, given the few wyverns approaching, he had chosen to come with a small company.

  The horn sounded again as the wyverns changed course and began to approach Rook Castle. Damien stepped back. Most likely House Merek would land in the inner courtyard.

  He took off at a brisk walk toward the courtyard, Sten behind him. By now servants and guests alike had begun to gather in the hallways, asking questions and pointing toward windows.

  “What are those?”

  “Are they safe?”

  “They aren’t really going to land those creatures here, are they?”

  Outside, Damien went down a few more steps, then looked up. Against the cloud-riddled sky, three wyverns began their descent as the third horn sounded. There was no banner flapping from one of the saddles, nothing to indicate what house the riders represented. Then again, no introduction was needed. Only one group of people rode the wild wyverns of the south, and that was House Merek.

  A dull roar filled the air as huge wings lowered the beasts to the ground. The first wyvern was a giant, with burnished copper scales and riding gear made of leather and iron. By now, a crowd had gathered around the courtyard, including the siblings from House Luceras and Lady Ayaka Rafel.

  The copper-colored wyvern touched down, its wings sending up a cloud of dust before settling. A lithe figure jumped down from its back and started toward the main stairs where Damien stood.

  Damien narrowed his eyes. That wasn’t Lord Malrin Merek. It was his daughter, Lady Bryren. Her hair matched the copper tones of the wyvern behind her and hung around her face and shoulders in a dozen loose pieces and small braids. She wore black kohl around her eyes, accentuating her light brown irises. Her clothing consisted of leather pants and jerkin, a light tunic beneath, and soft-skinned boots.

  She spotted Damien and a smile spread over her full lips. “Lord Damien Maris,” she said as she approached the stairs. “Last time I saw you, we were trying to catch wyvern hatchlings outside my father’s hall.”

  Damien bowed. “Lady Bryren. What a surprise.” He looked up. “Where is your father?”

  A shadow passed over her face as the other two wyverns landed and their riders disembarked. “He passed in the night a couple of weeks before we received your summons for the assembly.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Lord Malrin dead? How? The man was as fit as they came the last time Damien had corresponded with the grand lord of House Merek. Granted that was months ago. “How did he pass, may I ask?”

  “The healer believed his heart gave out.”

  Damien frowned. A young woman from one of the lesser houses under the protection of House Luceras had met the same demise a few months ago, and a man from House Vivek earlier than that. Could they be connected? Did Caiaphas know about Lord Malrin’s demise?

  One of the riders approached while the other secured the bridles, saddles, and saddlebags from the wyverns. He was taller than Damien, with spiky coal-black hair and a small braid that hung over his right shoulder. He had
the same dark lines around his eyes as Lady Bryren and was dressed in similar fashion.

  Lady Bryren placed her hand out, palm upward, and the man took it. “Lord Damien, let me present to you my consort, Reidin, of the lesser House of Ral.”

  “Consort?” Damien’s eyebrows rose. “When did you marry?”

  Her face tightened. “Shortly before my father passed away. I’m glad he was able to be at our binding.”

  Reidin did not say a word. He simply watched Damien with hazel eyes.

  “Welcome, House Merek.”

  Damien stiffened as Lady Ragna came to stand beside him on the staircase. The scent of her rosewater and the musk from the nearby wyverns created an unpleasant aroma. He choked down a cough.

  Lady Bryren and her consort bowed their heads. “Lady Ragna. Thank you for extending the hospitality of Rook Castle for the assembly. Please pardon our tardiness. We ran into some bad weather south of here.”

  Lady Ragna sniffed unpleasantly. “Do your mounts need any special treatment?”

  Lady Bryren lifted her head. “No. Our wyverns do not require shelter or food. They will be quite content to hunt and rest in the Magyr Mountains, if that is all right with you.”

  Lady Ragna looked over at the three beasts. “As long as they do not harass my people.”

  Lady Bryren grinned. “They do not like most people, so there is no fear of that.” She looked back and gave out a shrill whistle. At once, the three wyverns—bereft of their saddles and bridles—lifted into the air and took off over the ramparts in a great wind.

  As Damien watched the majestic creatures fly off, he noticed a single figure standing on the topmost ramparts. Lady Selene stood atop one of the towers, a silhouette against the darkening sky, dressed in black, her long hair unbound and flying behind her like the wings of a raven as she watched the wyverns fly toward the setting sun.

  Something shifted inside of him at the sight of her. She appeared alone at that moment, a single pillar high above everyone else. Powerful, beautiful, and vulnerable at the same time.

  Seconds later, she dropped her head and turned, disappearing from sight. Damien blinked at the strange emotion and brought his attention back to Lady Ragna and Lady Bryren.

  “You are invited to join us for dinner this evening, where I will announce the arrival of your house,” Lady Ragna said to Lady Bryren.

  “I will be honored. But first, my companions and I would like to clean up.”

  “I will send my servants out to show you to your rooms and to take care of your needs.”

  Lady Bryren bowed again. “Thank you, Grand Lady Ragna.”

  Lady Ragna turned and disappeared into Rook Castle.

  Lady Bryren looked up with a smirk on her face. “Apparently House Ravenwood still dislikes our house and our ways.” She shrugged and headed for the third rider, who stood beside their saddlebags. “No love lost on our part either. Terric! Look who I found! Lord Damien! Do you remember him?”

  The third rider looked up. His deep red hair ran toward the back of his head in thick spikes. He also wore kohl around his eyes, accentuating his green eyes and matching his black leather attire.

  Damien swore if Lady Bryren could, she would have been skipping across the courtyard. At least she had acquired a modicum of decorum, but he had a feeling she would always be young at heart, no matter her age. She was just as spirited and vibrant as he remembered when they were young.

  Terric glanced at Damien, then back at Lady Bryren. “Lord Damien. You mean from House Maris?”

  “Yes! Except that’s grand lord now, right?” She looked over at Damien.

  Damien winced inside but managed a faint smile. “Yes.” He recognized Terric now. It was the hair. He was one of many cousins to House Merek and was always a shadow to Lady Bryren when they were young. Damien noticed the siblings of House Luceras were now approaching.

  “Lady Bryren.” Lord Leo bowed. The stiff coldness from this morning was gone, replaced with genuine affection. Lady Adalyn and Lord Elric bowed as well. “It is good to see you.”

  Lady Bryren’s face brightened even more. “Lord Leo, and Lord Elric, and—oh my, Lady Adalyn, you have become such a lovely lady!”

  Lady Adalyn blushed. Damien glanced over. Yes, Adalyn was quite lovely today, with her long golden hair gathered to one side and swept into a thick braid. Her white gown looked almost ethereal in the dying light. Elric smirked, bringing out his dimples.

  It felt like a family reunion, with Lady Bryren gushing over the Luceras family, her consort and cousin looking on. For as long as he could remember, their three houses had always been close, visiting each other every couple of years.

  Damien stood back and watched. This was what unity should feel like: warmth, friendliness, and genuine love. He looked back at Rook Castle. Lady Ayaka was already gone, along with most of the servants and other houses. If only all seven houses could get along like these three did.

  He let out a long sigh. However, if the talks were any indication, the seven Great Houses were far from it.

  23

  Dinner that evening was a loud, boisterous affair with Lady Bryren’s arrival. Damien watched her from the other side of the dining hall as she chatted away with whomever would listen, while her consort and cousin sat quietly.

  “It is good to see her again, isn’t it?” Lady Adalyn’s silvery voice flowed from his right.

  Damien reached for the nearby goblet. “Yes, it is. I’m glad House Merek was able to come.” However, he was still disturbed by the news Lady Bryren brought about her father. He took a sip, his mind going over her words.

  “How are the talks going?”

  Damien blinked and placed the goblet down. He glanced over at Adalyn. In the candlelight, her hair fairly glowed, and the golden gown she wore made her appear as if she were made of light. Her eyes, usually a light blue, appeared darker and deeper as she looked back.

  A shy girl, Adalyn rarely spoke, even when they were young. She was more content to observe and listen while her older brothers carried on the conversation. The fact that she was asking him questions meant she was trying to engage him in conversation. Interesting.

  “As well as I expected. I’m afraid I cannot share more.”

  “Oh.” Her face blushed. “That’s all right.” She picked up her cleaning cloth and carefully cleaned her fingertips.

  “And how is everything back home?” Damien asked. She was trying, he could tell, so he would help her along.

  “Very well. We have more pilgrims arriving every day to learn at the Temple of Splendor.” Lady Adalyn bubbled along, sharing with him the latest news and goings-on in the hill country. A servant came by and placed a plate in front of each of them: quail with a light sauce.

  Lady Adalyn began to daintily remove the meat from the bird. “There was talk of cutting down the old oak tree in the city square. I persuaded Father not to do it. There are too many memories there. Especially of Elric and—” She paused, her fork in midair.

  Damien knew what she was going to say. Elric and Quinn. The two were thick as thieves when House Maris would visit House Luceras.

  “I’m sorry, Lord Damien,” she said quietly.

  Damien swallowed the lump in his throat. He placed his silverware down and lightly patted her hand. “It’s all right. Those are good memories. I’m glad you can remember Quinn that way.”

  She nodded, but her hand shook beneath his. “We miss Quinn. Every time I pass the old oak tree, I see him and Elric climbing along the branches, trying to see who can go the highest.” Her hand tightened around the silverware, almost as if she were consoling herself. “Thank you,” she whispered, then went back to cutting up the bird.

  Damien took up his own silverware. He always secretly wondered if Lady Adalyn had possessed feelings for his brother, Quinn. Now he would never know. It was one reason to put off any offers of marriage her brothers might bring to him. He wasn’t sure if he could marry Lady Adalyn if her heart had belonged to his brother. />
  Then again, he might not have a choice. As only heir to House Maris, his choice in spouse would be very important. And a stronger alliance with House Luceras would be beneficial to his people.

  Damien slowly chewed on a piece of quail and looked over the other dinner guests. Lady Bryren continued to talk exuberantly with those around her. Lord Rune of House Vivek seemed to be entertained by her words. Damien’s lips curled to the side. Rarely did he see Lord Rune so diverted. His sister sat beside him, picking at her bird.

  The other dinner guests seemed occupied as they spoke to each other in amiable chatter. Except for one. His eyes were drawn to the end of the table across from him where Lady Selene sat next to Lord Raoul from House Friere. She wore an elegant but simple blue gown, a stark contrast to the more ostentatious wardrobes of the other women present.

  He could tell Lord Raoul was trying to get her attention, but to no avail. She appeared cold and aloof, with her chin set and her movements precise and orderly.

  Lord Raoul leaned closer to her, his dark eyes glittering as he spoke more fervently. The gold jewelry along his fingers and the skull pendant around his neck glistened in the candlelight.

  There was a hint of anger, just a flash of emotion, before the cold veil descended back upon Lady Selene’s face as she answered him. Whatever reply she gave him made him back up and begin to ravage his quail with a sullen look on his face.

  Once Lord Raoul’s attention was elsewhere, Lady Selene seemed to sag forward infinitesimally, as if she had been holding herself together, and her eyes glistened. Damien reached for the goblet nearby and studied her over the crystal rim. He felt that same strange tugging sensation from earlier when he’d spotted her at the top of the tower when House Merek arrived. She appeared now as she had then: alone and vulnerable.

  As if sensing his perusal, she looked up and over at him. They stared at each other, the other dinner guests forgotten. A flicker of life came back into her dark eyes before she glanced away.