Page 65 of Keeper of the Word (The Unsung and the Wolf Duology #2)

Chapter

Fifty-Nine

ELANNA

E lanna dismounted Rasa and ran her fingers over the wall.

“What are you doing?” Joss asked after she’d bumped into her.

“There were rings attached to the wall here. I saw them before he shut the doors. We can tie the horses before we escape.”

“Escape where?” Agitation coated Tolvar’s voice.

“There’s a trapdoor.”

“How do you?—”

“Shush. Quiet. Come Rasa,” Elanna said, feeding the roan’s reins through the ring she’d found. “All of you come.”

In the darkness, while Elanna slid her hands first along the wall and then the ground, searching for a sign of the door she Saw was there, the others hitched their horses.

Her hand came across a loose floorboard.

She yanked it up, revealing the ring knob to lift the hatch.

“Come,” she said, allowing her feet to drop down the hole to find a foothold on the ladder.

Below ground, ’twas cooler, and the air smelled dank.

Joss was next down the ladder, followed by the others one by one.

Tolvar was last, and he pulled the hatch tight behind him .

He gave an ooph, his head hitting the ceiling of the cramped space they found themselves in.

Tolvar whispered, “What now?”

“This is a tunnel,” Elanna returned. Stars, she grew tired. She was asking too much of the stars. “It leads to Buchton’s cellar. That is where we make our hiding place.”

Everyone searched the darkness with their hands until they found the tunnel walls. Elanna took the first step. The blackness was everything. She could not see her hand even when she held it inches from her eyes.

They tread carefully for stars knew how long until finally, the dimmest of light could be detected ahead. ’Twas slight, but it illuminated a short door at the tunnel’s end.

Elanna took a deep breath and pushed it open, finding herself inside the cellar she’d Seen weeks ago in the streets of Asalle.

Shelves covered with goods and supplies surrounded the perimeter of the cellar.

On the floor were beautiful cedar boards, which perfumed the space.

Three chests sat near the stairs at the far end of the cellar.

On one chest was a pile of blankets, on the next was a crate filled with fresh food, and on the last was a lit lantern. Everything was tidy.

Once inside, Tolvar quietly climbed the stairs to listen at the door. “I hear nothing.”

The sound of motion came. Not from the cellar door at the top of the stairs but the tunnel from where they’d just come. Swords were drawn, and Hux propelled Elanna behind him.

Voices. One had the timbre of a woman.

“Wait!” she whispered.

“Stand back, Elanna,” Tolvar growled.

“Should we escape up the stairs?” Gus asked. “There’s no telling how many we face, and this is a tight spot, m’lord.”

“Nay. We stand,” Tolvar said.

The group poised ready with their weapons. Elanna held her breath. The door creaked open.

“What in stars’ holy name!” a man’s voice came.

“Prince Dashiell?” Tolvar said .

Elanna pushed her way through the group. “You’re alive, Your Highness!”

“Aye.” The prince scanned the room. “Mayhap you could all lower your weapons. You’re giving Aven a fright.”

Beside the prince was a woman, thin and pretty, with dark hair and thick eyebrows, which were upturned in fear.

Swords were sheathed, and the prince and Aven entered. “Bit cramped in here,” Dashiell said, shifting his weight.

“What are you doing here, Your Highness?”

“This is Aven’s village. We’re hiding in plain sight.” He winked, and Hux chuckled as the others swore under their breath. “But what are you all doing here?”

Elanna gazed from Dashiell to Aven. “We are here to witness your wedding.”

The days they hid in the cellar were miserable. Buchton kept them stocked with food and news, and, a few times, Tolvar and Hux spied through the tunnel, though they surveyed little. The only other use for the tunnel had been a makeshift privy they created.

The horses had been moved to various sheds throughout Renstown to be cared for.

Three Ashwinian Lusters together would rouse suspicions.

Tolvar had his doubts, but Dashiell laughed, saying that if the village wasn’t loyal to the heir to the throne, they were very loyal to one of their own daughters.

Aven’s father had served as a constable before he’d been killed defending a group of children from a gang of thieves years ago.

The village had taken it upon themselves to care after Aven and her four sisters.

Nothing would sway their loyalty, the prince said.

According to Buchton, the horsemen who had trampled into Renstown were a group of Anscom’s men, leagues from his province and seeking to keep the peace, they’d informed the new constable.

They had shown the village the WANTED banner of Tolvar and asked if anyone had spotted the prince.

They were on orders to safely return the prince to Asalle .

“As if anyone would believe that.” Buchton had rolled his eyes, twitching his beard. “The prince is well known in these parts, and we would only trust him to his own guard. What would a Lenforese earl want with the prince?”

The tale of the sovereign’s fete—the prince had excused himself during the retelling—as well as Greenwood’s and Anscom’s treachery, was told to Buchton, who listened with a quiet, gaping mouth.

“I had a dream you’d come,” he told Elanna.

“And then, days later, three strangers arrived from Asalle searching for me by name. They said they could not be certain but thought a StarSeer had told them to come. E’er since that dream, I’ve been on the lookout for you all, though I ne’er believed I’d stand face to face with a StarSeer. ”

“Let alone host one in your charming cellar,” Hux added.

“Aye.” Buchton nodded through glossed-over eyes. “You can be certain that Renstown is loyal to the StarSeers. How anyone could think to blame the stewardesses who keep the Light is beyond me.”

After receiving news that Anscom’s men had departed, they waited until nightfall to venture out of the cellar.

Elanna had ne’er felt so blessed to stand under the stars.

“What is it?” Hux asked, putting an arm around her.

“My starlit well grows dim when I cannot be under the stars. ’Twas a long time.” Her knees shook. “If I can bask here, I shall be well enough soon.”

Hux studied her.

“What?”

His answer was to scoop her up in his arms and carry her to the open field that stood on the other side of Buchton’s cottage.

“Hux! Release me! I need not be carried.”

“But I shall carry you, Lady. I shall ne’er leave your side.” He gently placed her onto the grass. “Now, I know you prefer to be alone, so I shall loiter over there.” He kissed her forehead and backtracked to stand beside Buchton’s cottage.

Elanna glanced at his silhouette before shifting her gaze upward .

After an hour, she felt more herself, and if she closed her eyes, she imagined her core’s starlit well filled.

“Lady Elanna.” The voice was not Hux’s, but Dashiell’s. “May I join you?”

“Please.” She patted the ground beside her.

The prince sat, taking in a great breath. “Stars, ’tis pleasant to be outside again.”

She beamed, and the two sat quietly observing the sky.

“Were you in earnest about witnessing my marriage to Aven?”

“I was, Your Highness. Quite. ’Tis why we have been brought to Renstown together.”

“What of Asalle? What about…”

“Your father?”

Dashiell’s cheeks reddened. “I do love my father; you must know that.”

“I do.”

“Have you Seen my father’s death?”

Elanna exhaled.

“I know, I know. You are not supposed to answer that question, but have you?”

She focused on the stars for an answer.

Dashiell toyed with his sleeve. “I cannot believe—truly believe—that I am ne’er supposed to return to Asalle. To rule this empire.”

“Do you wish to marry Aven?”

“More than anything.”

Elanna sighed, letting her shoulders drop. “Then Your Highness must trust that your line will find its way back to Asalle someday.”

Dashiell rubbed his forehead. “Meaning?”

“Events are set in motion. Too many have now made choices toward doom, Your Highness. Even if you returned to Asalle,”—Stars, she loathed to say this part—“it cannot be the same. Not now. Those who would deem to take control of it shall not cease. And if they breach its walls, it will fall.”

Dashiell studied the ground. “This is all my fault. ”

“There are a great many people at present who claim fault, but the truth is, you have no control where others’ choices are concerned.

There is naught you could have done to stop Chancellor Griffith and the others.

I am certain of that. Their path was already set in motion. You would have died like…”

Dashiell caught his breath.

“And my mother’s fortune?”

“I have not Seen her fate as of yet. But Lady Tara is there with her. And she will be safe as long as they are together.”

The prince nodded. “But what am I to do now? I do not exactly know a trade.”

Elanna scanned the dark horizon. “You cannot stay here. Eventually, Renn will be overrun, too. You and Aven must go deep into the southeast of Grenden. Buhr, mayhap.”

The prince chuckled. “Buhr. I cannot say I even know where that is.”

“You and Aven will find it together. But no one can know where you go.” Dashiell paled. This was becoming all too real. “And you do know a trade.”

“Do I?” His forehead wrinkled. “What is that? Decorum?”

“Defense. You will earn your living by teaching those who would ne’er otherwise receive training to defend themselves. And there will be many who will be in want of that skill. I assure you.”

Elanna’s heart hurt, laying the prince’s fortune out for him so decisively.

But ’twas the only way. Prince Dashiell was headstrong, and although Elanna knew that ultimately, aye, Dashiell would grow to be an old man—his lineage passed to children and grandchildren and even great-great-great-grandchildren—he had lived a life as she had.

Isolated. A greenhorn. She must give him direction.

“I like that. I like the idea of teaching common folk.”

She knew.

“One last thing, Your Highness. I’ve told you this because this is a way of survival. A way of happiness. But the choice is always yours. If you wish to return to Asalle, let no one dissuade you from doing so. There is always a choice.”

He nodded in understanding. “I choose Aven. ”

She knew.

“Then, henceforth, you may no longer be Prince Dashiell. You must seek a new identity with those who are strangers. You will ne’er stop being hunted. The power of the Curse is too strong.”

Dashiell winced and leaned to the side. “Give up… everything .”

“’Tis a choice, but one that shall safeguard you.

Keep Aven safe. Keep your future children safe.

” Fatigue challenged her. “Last, even in faraway Buhr, news will reach your ears. You must not pay heed.” Elanna paused.

“Because if you do make the choice to walk this path, once you leave, you cannot backtrack. ’Twill change the course of the future for the entire realm itself if you do.

Do not attempt to return to Asalle, no matter how painful. ”

The agony across Dashiell’s face made Elanna avert her eyes.

“Very well. I shall do as you say.”

The next evening was a flawless late summer’s night in which the shift between the Rainless and Prodigal Moons sprinkled down blessings of fortitude and generosity.

The group stood in the same open field with the whole of the village and witnessed the marriage of Prince Dashiell Edgard Ferik of the House of Sidra to Aven of Renstown. The constable performed the ceremony.

Aven wore starglows in her hair, the effect of the pure white flowers against her black locks enchanting. She wore a simple, honey-colored gown and was barefoot. A contrast to anyone’s ideal portrait of a princess. And yet Aven appeared most royal.

That is love’s effect .

Dashiell wore the same clothes he’d escaped Asalle in, a cobalt doublet trimmed with gold thread and dark leather hose. They’d been cleaned, but one could see traces of wear and want.

Prince no more. At least not to this world.

Elanna’s heart rose, recounting what she’d Seen, first on the Dasei Moors, then with Tara, knowing what was in store.

Aye, the House of Sidra would find its way back someday.

Some may find it difficult to accept a prince going into hiding as a victory, but StarSeers were meant to understand the whole of time, not simply their own brief walk through it.

Besides, one only had to gaze between Dashiell and Aven to understand their bond of love was one written in the stars. They would venture into their new life together as partners. In a way, Dashiell would experience a contentment that none of his predecessors ever had.

Tolvar stood next to the prince. Next to Aven stood a young woman with brassy hair, a childhood friend to whom they’d been introduced.

Elanna stood next to the constable to validate the marriage.

Although the prince would ne’er be heard from again, tales would travel and recount the last of the House of Sidra being sealed in marriage by Elanna the Fourth.

Tales would turn into lore. Lore would turn into legend.

She closed her eyes and let the next eras play out.

Connecting eyes with Tolvar, she found he scrutinized her. His hand was in his pocket, no doubt gripping the Edan Stone.

Wondering how all this shall unfold.