He did enjoy fomenting mischief, this peculiar Kolan, who could not be anything but fully aware of how little he was wanted in this place. Illidian had once told her that Tyrland was home to the Kellian, but it had long been clear that Aurai’s Rest held an equal claim. Here alone in all the world was a place made by and for them, where no-one would say they did not belong. Why remind them of the Empire’s technical claim over the forest?
The tingle of a clear and strong protection distracted Rennyn as they crossed into the settlement circle, and another piece of mischief surfaced in her memory. Breeding for magic.
She set that aside. If she was going to expend her energy on doubt over the reasons for her marriage, her ability to control the Kellian would trump all other factors. Her bloodline had been an unseen keystone since the Kellian had first become a people rather than tools. The Kellian had recoiled from that knowledge, but then adapted and forced themselves to face the ramifications of the Symbolic Magic that defined their core. But Illidian had been drawn to her before he had known what she had inherited, and had not let it keep him from her.
What would become of this place, dependent as it was on Kellian speed and instinct, when they tested the boundaries of their existence?
As the inhabitants of Aurai’s Rest emerged to greet their arrival, Rennyn leaned back against Illidian’s chest, and dropped one hand to the arm curled lightly around her waist. He shifted so he could briefly lace his fingers through hers, squeezing in silent reassurance before they dismounted and faced the business of greetings, and the wary regard of those who had not met her before, and who were trying to be polite, and to hide their horror. There were three non-Kellian among them, working especially hard to keep their expressions welcoming.
After Rennyn had been fully overwhelmed by names and faces, the travellers were shown to rooms, and paused in the business of settling in for Lieutenant Meniar to cast the focus divination yet again, and establish that her Wicked Uncle was still north and east of their location. But certainly not at Aurai’s Rest itself.
"How is your strength?" Darian Faille asked, having observed this process without comment. "Do you wish to sleep?"
"I think I’ll last until dinner," Rennyn said, taking stock of herself. She had dozed a little on the highly undemanding ride, and at least did not feel like she would drop.
"Then I will show you the Rest."
Was Darian, Rennyn wondered, creating an opportunity for the other Kellian to do much the same thing as the Sentene mages had: talk to Illidian away from the Montjuste-Surclere heir he had so hastily married, to reassure themselves that it was something he had truly chosen? Given that there were many among the Sentene mages yet to be convinced, Rennyn resigned herself to the continuing distrust, and followed her mother by marriage.
Not unexpectedly, Darian was considerate and polite, taking Rennyn on an undemanding tour of the central buildings of Aurai’s Rest. The settlement was tidy, most of it arranged around the eastern base of the hill, but while the shared kitchens and dining areas reminded Rennyn of the Kellian barracks back in Asentyr, the creators of Aurai’s Rest had imbued everything with an elegance of form and a regard for craftsmanship that elevated the settlement to a precious object in itself.
There continued to be a sense of restraint about Darian, the shadow of words unsaid. Rennyn, aware of unfamiliar awkwardness, sought for a neutral topic.
"Who designed the Rest?"
"The Ten." Darian surveyed the roofs of the main buildings as she led the way up a bricked path. "Veya and Tio in particular."
Rennyn blinked, then counted from one to five in Verisian: "Ala, Tio, Seya, Nal, Veya?"
"Yes. Aurai’s response to ten near-identical women who had no names for themselves."
"Was Aurai Verisian?"
"She came from the border country," Darian said, keeping her pace slow as Rennyn followed her up another section of the gently winding path. "Though we still know almost nothing of her family."
Having had Dezart Samarin’s revelations passed on to her, Rennyn suspected she understood the troubled note in this last remark. Nor was she surprised when Darian added:
"Illidian looks worn."
"Yes." Pointless to deny such an obvious fact. "Nightmares. And caring for me has been a great deal of work." Rennyn concentrated on walking, as the gentle climb began to take its toll. "I think that the threat Prince Helecho poses is also weighing on him. There’s so little we can do to find him, and yet we cannot be sure he is not hunting us."
"From what I understand, this Eferum-Get Prince’s most logical course is to avoid anyone who knows his identity. Is he not more likely to keep safely away from you?"
"He seemed the sort to spend several years looking forward to surprising me at an unprotected moment," Rennyn said judiciously. "But not, perhaps, if he cannot do so without risk. Tyrland was his mother’s obsession, and I just entertainment along the way. Though that’s perhaps wishful thinking. I don’t relish meeting him again, even to put an end to him."
Darian accepted this admission of cowardice without comment, and they walked on for several steps before the Kellian woman, unhurried and unsparing, said:
"I was concerned at the haste of your marriage. Illidian has explained the reason for it. Do you truly believe that Tyrland’s Queen would have forced you to wed her heir to gain control of us?"
"I believe it inevitable that the advantages of such a marriage would have occurred to Tyrland’s Court, if not the Queen. How Queen Astranelle would have acted, I cannot say. From what I’ve seen of her, she is firm on matters of importance, but stays aloof from what she considers minor issues."
Darian fell silent, and did not attempt to continue the uncomfortable and stilted conversation until their path ended at a door framed by an arch set into the hill, the finely-wrought stone shaped into a series of interconnecting leaves. An entrance to one of the caves?
"And yet you left your brother in their control."
Rennyn blinked, and worked to bring her mind to order, resenting the sapping weariness that the short walk had produced. "Seb is far less tractable than he appears."
Darian did not argue the point, instead pulling the door open to reveal a smooth-sided tunnel.
"This is the heart of the Rest," the Kellian woman said, her faint voice thinning further, as if the tunnel was stealing it away. "Ordinarily I would not bring one not of our blood here, but there are more reasons than marriage to make an exception. Will you greet them?"
"If you wish it," Rennyn said, not succeeding in hiding a certain tightness that had crept into her throat. Clearly Darian had a reason for bringing her unprepared to face the women Rennyn’s family had abandoned.
The tunnel curved downward, and soon opened out into a much larger space. There was no need to conjure light: a combination of mageglows and braziers picked out the edges of a fan-shaped cave wide enough to hold dozens. It was warm and dry, and the walls had been hung with geometrically patterned cloth, but it was still unmistakably a tomb.
Eleven stone coffins. They were arranged in a semi-circle in the centre of the cave, their stone bases patterned with twists of vine, sprays of blossom, birds. Two were sealed.
Rennyn, overwhelmingly aware of the reason the Kellian had asked her to come Aurai’s Rest, stepped forward until she stood at the foot of the seventh coffin in the curve. Creamy linen covered the occupant to the waist and one long, sharp-nailed hand rested on its edge while the second curled against the cheek of its owner in an attitude of deep sleep. A bed of white sand glimmered beneath those fingers, making the container no less a coffin, but at least more comfortable than an uncushioned box of stone.