power than her husband, sometimes she could change fate.
The shrine held a small painted statue of the goddess, dressed in flowing blue robes.
Kneeling, Devon stared into the statue’s kind face.
“Help us,” she whispered. “Help us drive the barbarians from the castle. Save the people from death, and worse.”
It was tempting to ask for help from a different quarter. From the magic of the ancient legends. Long ago, Marina, an old woman in town, had taught her something of its powers. That was before Marina had treated a child for burns, and the boy had died. And some cows succumbed to a mysterious illness. When people began to whisper that Marina was a witch and should be stoned to death, she had fled one night and was never seen again. And Devon had understood the power of whispers.
As she turned from the altar, she froze in shock.
In the moonlight, a figure watched her from the corner of her chamber. A tall man with broad shoulders and a piercing stare.
One of the Lubantans? No. She instantly rejected that possibility. The barbarians wore rough tunics under light armor, leather trousers and leather sandals.
This man looked to be in his early thirties, finely dressed in a hip-length black linen tunic and black leggings. His leather boots were set with gold buckles, and he wore a heavy leather belt and jeweled scabbard at his waist.
Only his jet-black hair would be out of fashion in the court. The noblemen of Arandal wore their hair loose. His was clasped at the back of his neck.
Struggling for control, she raised her chin. “How dare you enter my room. Leave here at once.”
From below dark lashes, his midnight eyes regarded her with unnerving steadiness.
“Who will force me?”
She should call for the guard at the bottom of the staircase, but her voice caught in her throat.
Instead she snatched up the dagger from the end of the bed and charged toward him. Before she reached the corner of the room, he vanished. Still, she raised the knife and slashed at the place where he had been.
“You have spirit,” he said, speaking from behind her.
Startled, she whirled to face him again. “Stay away from me.”
“Is that what you really want?”
It should be, but despite her fear, something within her responded in a way that was beyond her understanding.
She had been taught manners and modesty, and she had used them as a shield when she needed them. But she sensed that this man saw through the image she strove to project.
“We’ll talk later. More than talk,” he promised.
The silky tone of his voice sent a hot shiver over her skin. Deep inside herself, she knew that he was offering something forbidden. Something she wanted and feared.
Before she could decide which emotion was stronger, the air wavered, and he was gone.
She stared at the place where he had been, her heart pounding. Had he been real, or was she light-headed from lack of food?
“Who are you?” she demanded, speaking to the empty air.
No one answered.
Chapter Two
A knock at the door made her jump. Raising her head, she saw her old nurse, Brinna, step into the chamber.
“Did you call me?”
“No, I was just mumbling to myself. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m too wide awake for sleep. I’ll get you some food from the kitchen.”
Devon’s stomach clenched as she pictured the larder, which was now guarded as closely as the armory. “The people have no food.”
“But the princess must eat. I’ll go now, while it’s still dark and few people are about.”
When the old woman stepped back into the corridor and closed the door, Devon sighed. Brinna had taken care of her as long as she could remember. Even before her mother had died. If her nurse’s mind was set on something, it was hard to change it.
Moments after the door closed, a small sound in the air made Devon turn slowly, fearing what she would see and yet full of anticipation at the same time.
Her visitor was back. Watching her.
As if by magic.
The province of
The shrine held a small painted statue of the goddess, dressed in flowing blue robes.
Kneeling, Devon stared into the statue’s kind face.
“Help us,” she whispered. “Help us drive the barbarians from the castle. Save the people from death, and worse.”
It was tempting to ask for help from a different quarter. From the magic of the ancient legends. Long ago, Marina, an old woman in town, had taught her something of its powers. That was before Marina had treated a child for burns, and the boy had died. And some cows succumbed to a mysterious illness. When people began to whisper that Marina was a witch and should be stoned to death, she had fled one night and was never seen again. And Devon had understood the power of whispers.
As she turned from the altar, she froze in shock.
In the moonlight, a figure watched her from the corner of her chamber. A tall man with broad shoulders and a piercing stare.
One of the Lubantans? No. She instantly rejected that possibility. The barbarians wore rough tunics under light armor, leather trousers and leather sandals.
This man looked to be in his early thirties, finely dressed in a hip-length black linen tunic and black leggings. His leather boots were set with gold buckles, and he wore a heavy leather belt and jeweled scabbard at his waist.
Only his jet-black hair would be out of fashion in the court. The noblemen of Arandal wore their hair loose. His was clasped at the back of his neck.
Struggling for control, she raised her chin. “How dare you enter my room. Leave here at once.”
From below dark lashes, his midnight eyes regarded her with unnerving steadiness.
“Who will force me?”
She should call for the guard at the bottom of the staircase, but her voice caught in her throat.
Instead she snatched up the dagger from the end of the bed and charged toward him. Before she reached the corner of the room, he vanished. Still, she raised the knife and slashed at the place where he had been.
“You have spirit,” he said, speaking from behind her.
Startled, she whirled to face him again. “Stay away from me.”
“Is that what you really want?”
It should be, but despite her fear, something within her responded in a way that was beyond her understanding.
She had been taught manners and modesty, and she had used them as a shield when she needed them. But she sensed that this man saw through the image she strove to project.
“We’ll talk later. More than talk,” he promised.
The silky tone of his voice sent a hot shiver over her skin. Deep inside herself, she knew that he was offering something forbidden. Something she wanted and feared.
Before she could decide which emotion was stronger, the air wavered, and he was gone.
She stared at the place where he had been, her heart pounding. Had he been real, or was she light-headed from lack of food?
“Who are you?” she demanded, speaking to the empty air.
No one answered.
Chapter Two
A knock at the door made her jump. Raising her head, she saw her old nurse, Brinna, step into the chamber.
“Did you call me?”
“No, I was just mumbling to myself. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m too wide awake for sleep. I’ll get you some food from the kitchen.”
Devon’s stomach clenched as she pictured the larder, which was now guarded as closely as the armory. “The people have no food.”
“But the princess must eat. I’ll go now, while it’s still dark and few people are about.”
When the old woman stepped back into the corridor and closed the door, Devon sighed. Brinna had taken care of her as long as she could remember. Even before her mother had died. If her nurse’s mind was set on something, it was hard to change it.
Moments after the door closed, a small sound in the air made Devon turn slowly, fearing what she would see and yet full of anticipation at the same time.
Her visitor was back. Watching her.
As if by magic.
The province of
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