Dark Lightning by Janet Woods Page B

her maid Esbel and your daughter Danea. Serica is furious that her permission wasn’t sought to take the girl. She wishes to see you.’
    Cynan sighed. ‘I don’t want to see Serica. Tell her the matter is in hand, and remind her that Danea is my daughter as well as hers.’ Engaging Penn’s eyes he smiled. ‘Azarine trusts Danea, and with good cause. She doesn’t prattle about Azarine’s business to anyone. Not even to me, her father, or to Serica, her mother. Not to you ... her uncle. I sometimes wonder why she doesn’t confide in anyone but Azarine and I have come up with the answer that Danea dislikes intrigue. She’s totally honest and cannot be bought. Danea has blossomed under Azarine’s care, and I’m pleased by the change in her.’
    Penn looked away. ‘Be careful they do not conspire against you, Cynan. What are you going to do about the situation with your lady? Your men will laugh at you.’
    ‘They’ll only do it once. I recall that Azarine spoke to me about making a pilgrimage to some ancient temple. I expect that’s where she’s gone, and she’ll soon return to me.’
    ‘The Karshal princess should have been discouraged from the practice of evoking the ancient rituals.’
    ‘There is no harm in it, Penn. From what I hear the temple is ruined, and there’s no magic left.’
    ‘Then how do the followers gather their power to heal? It’s said it comes straight from the Grand Alchemist?’
    Cynan shrugged uneasily for he’d remembered a time long ago when he’d first met Azarine. He had experienced that power for himself. But had he? ‘I imagine it’s a simple form of mesmer. I understand the followers are experts at it.’
    A galling thought crept into his head. What if Azarine had used mesmer on him for all this time, keeping him under her control? He shook his head. It would have been impossible without his knowledge. He had been the one in charge and he would prove it to Penn for once and for all.
    ‘Send someone to this temple to escort Azarine’s party back.’  
    Penn nodded. ‘I think I know where the temple is. The people are unsettled, and it’s not safe for her to be out and about without someone to guard her.’
     
    But Azarine and her companions were nowhere near any temple, and neither could ruins of any significance be found by the search party.
    Once clear of the city of Arles, Azarine’s party had gradually been joined by troopers wearing the insignia of the peregrine. As a body, the men, their women and their children surrounded the little cart, keeping them out of sight of prying eyes as they pushed forward.
    Now they were camped in the forest. They slept under the stars, on ground warmed by the inner fire of the mountains. They used one of the warm pools in which to bathe, surrounded modestly with screens made from woven branches and leaves.
    Azarine loved being away from Cynan and the intrigue of the Arles Manor.
    She loved being outdoors, loved the canopy of the forest over her head and the way the sky darkened to a smoky darkness at night. The stars shone, some like quick blazes of light, others giving off a soft glow.
    Her childhood came back to her, of riding into the countryside with her father and mother and spending the night studying the sky. She’d made a chart, and knew which stars brought the seasons. Some of the stars belonged to ancient Gods. Bane was filled with discontented souls, and the anger made it pulsate an angry red. Warlike creatures with foul breath and filthy habits lived on Bane. Yet there was something about the darkness of Bane that drew her. It made her tremble to remember she’d sworn an oath of revenge on the dark lord, and was thankful he didn’t seem to have heard her.
    Her eyes searched between the branches for a small blue star. It was said that a young goddess had playfully set it rolling across the sky, too fast for anyone to see. They felt it passing sometimes, and the trees were uprooted by the great wind it