“She probably had several. It was an arranged marriage – Lernen’s idea – and there was little affection between them.”
“My father made an offer for the Princess Marla once.”
“I know. I think that’s why he married her to my father, just to annoy Hablet.”
“My father still hasn’t forgiven Lernen for that,” Adrina remarked.
“And you wonder why I don’t trust you?”
She was sorry she ever brought the subject up. Now was not the time to remind Damin of the conflict between their monarchs. She ignored the remark and smiled brightly. “You were telling me about your sister.”
Damin looked at her oddly for a moment then continued his tale. “Kalan’s father was the Warlord of Elasapine’s son. He and mother returned to Elasapine after they married, leaving Kalan, Narvell and me in Krakandar. He died a couple of years later. But Marla kept finding husbands – and losing them. Every few years she would breeze in, introduce us to our latest stepbrother or stepsister, then vanish again for years at a time. I think Almodavar raised us more than Marla did.”
“That’s dreadful!”
“On the contrary, I had a wonderful childhood. We had a whole palace to play in, no parents to interfere and a staff that we chose ourselves for the most part.”
“You chose the staff? The children?”
“It was more a process of elimination,” he laughed. “If we didn’t like somebody we had ways of getting rid of them. Half a dozen children can be very inventive when the need arises.”
With a twinge of envy, Adrina recalled her own closely guarded childhood in the nursery of Hablet’s court in Talabar. Such freedom was almost beyond her ability to comprehend.
“Did your mother not fear for you? Alone like that?”
“We weren’t alone. Almodavar was my father’s closest friend and some of the people in Krakandar have been there since my grandfather’s time.”
“You’re lucky. At least you knew your mother. Hablet had my mother beheaded.”
It was Damin’s turn to look startled. “Why?”
“My mother was his first wife; a princess from Lanipoor, from a very ancient and noble line. He never loved her – he only married her for the prestige she brought him – and her very large dowry. He loved a court’esa, a Hythrun actually, named Welenara. She and my mother fell pregnant within days of each other. It was bad enough that my mother had to endure Welenara so blatantly carrying Hablet’s child, but then, to add insult to injury, it was Welenara who produced a son, while the best my mother could do was a daughter. She was rather put out, by all accounts. When Tristan was only a week old, she hired an assassin to poison him and his mother. The assassin failed, my father learnt of the attempt and had her beheaded.” Adrina shut her mouth abruptly, stunned that she had told him so much. She was supposed to be trying to draw him out, not regale him with her life story. She never discussed her mother with anyone. It was a forbidden subject around Hablet.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Pity is the last thing I need from you, my Lord.”
Her sudden change of mood had him shaking his head, but he said nothing. He rode on a little further and then dismounted beside a leaf-strewn pool. There was steam rising off the still water and the air tasted faintly of sulphur. Adrina dismounted beside him and looked around in surprise.
“The water’s hot!”
“Almost too hot to swim in,” he agreed. “It’s a thermal spring. The timber cutters discovered it. I hear Lord Jenga has already had an approach from some enterprising soul who wants to build a tavern here. For medicinal purposes, of course.”
“Of course,” Adrina agreed. She knelt down, peeled off her riding glove and dipped her hand into the pool, snatching it out quickly as the water seared her cold fingers.
“Your brother Tristan was killed in battle, wasn’t he?” Damin asked behind her.
Adrina stilled warily. How had he known that? “Yes.”
“And that’s the reason you ran away?”
She stood up and turned to face him. “One of them.”
“I see,” he said thoughtfully. He was standing by his horse, a good five paces from her, but she still felt as if he was crowding her. “So the Karien boy was lying. You weren’t trying to sneak through Medalon to ask your father for his cannon.”
Mikel was lucky he was nowhere in reach at that moment. Adrina could have cheerfully strangled the little brat. “He’s a child. I told him that to keep him quiet. He would have run straight to Cratyn if he thought I was leaving for any other reason.”
Damin gathered up his reins and swung into his saddle. “I’m curious. Why did you order your troops to surrender?”
“Cratyn would have executed them when he discovered I’d left. I couldn’t think of anything else.”
He nodded, as if she had confirmed something he already knew. “A noble gesture, your Highness. Not something I would have expected from someone like you.”
Adrina remounted, glaring at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
But he didn’t answer her. He nudged his horse forward leaving her to ponder his words. She had a feeling that if she could figure out what he meant, she would understand the reason he despised her so much.
Still, she had made progress. It was the first conversation of substance they had ever had that hadn’t ended with him threatening to send her back to Karien. Or to kill her.
Chapter 40
Adrina woke with a start, aware that something was different, although she could not pinpoint exactly what it was. She was sweating, her palms moist, her heart pounding. She had dreamt again, the same nightmare that had plagued her since she had left Karien – that Cratyn had found her, dragged her back across the border and forced her to dine with him on a meal that frequently turned out to be her dead dog. With a shudder, she pushed the memory away. It was a stupid dream. She refused to be cowed by an over-active imagination.
The chamber was filled with grey light – and silence. It reminded her of waking in the Karien camp the morning of the battle. The air had that same eerie quality, the same stillness, the same feeling of anticipation. Cautiously, she climbed out of bed. Shivering in the icy chamber, Adrina snatched up her cloak from the bed where it served as an extra blanket and threw it over her shoulders. She walked to the arrow-slit window and looked out, but as far as she could make out, the world had turned white. It took her a moment to realise what she was seeing.
When it hit her, she gasped, and hurriedly dressed in her riding habit, ignoring Tam’s sleepy question from the other pallet in the corner of the room. She pulled on her boots and was out the door, startling the guards with her sudden appearance. Running past them, down the stairs and through the deserted hall, she jerked open the heavy door to the Keep and stepped out into a wonderland.
There were a number of mounted Defenders in the yard and the men on the wall-walk stamped their feet against the cold, but Adrina took no notice of them. She hurried to the gate and looked out over the snow-covered camp in astonishment. The landscape had completely changed. Where there had been the panoply of war yesterday was now a silent, white vista as far as the eye could see. It was barely dawn and the soldiers were only just beginning to rouse. Thin smoke rose from the cookfires. The vast plain had been transformed from a war camp into a thing of beauty.
“You’ve not seen snow before, have you?”