Page 63 of To Touch A Silent Fury (The Bride of Eavenfold #1)

“You need to leave,” he said. “If the dreadspores failed... She might try again before the men return. If you’re both dead, she can cover her tracks.”

A rising sense of despair clawed at my throat. I knew he was right, and yet, the hopelessness of it all threatened to drown me. “Where can I go?”

Seth shook his head. “I thought I would have weeks to plan your departure. It’ll take me a couple of days to put the steps in place and get you everything you need.” Then he nodded. “Three days, the night before your wedding. That will be when you make your departure.”

“And until then?” I asked. “When Derynallis tries again?”

Seth paced back and forth, twitching one of the enveloping red velvet curtains.

Eventually, he settled. “I can’t get rid of Daffinia.

It’s too obvious, they’d know without a doubt that you discovered the treachery.

And if I send her off, it’ll risk exposing our relationship.

But I can replace Wainstrill without so much suspicion.

I’ll swap him with someone more trustworthy, someone who will keep everyone out, including Daffinia.

Someone who has no loyalty to my mother. ”

“Who?”

“I have a couple of ideas,” he replied. “Stay here for a few hours. I’ll bring some clean food for you from the kitchens myself.”

I gestured around the room. “And she won’t find me here?”

He frowned, sorrow in his eyes at my obvious fear. “No. Only Braxthorn, his sons, and I are allowed in here. My mother is not welcome, much to her constant chagrin.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, resting my hand on the edge of the war table for support. “Thank you for everything.”

Seth shook his head. “I’m so sorry it has happened like this, Tani. You’ve never deserved your lot in life.”

Once again, the sympathy, so similar to Theollan’s sentiments, tensed in my throat. But I forced it down. “I have you,” I said, with a shrug. “I’m doing alright.”

He gave me a sad smile.

But the pieces on the table had caught my eye.

Carved in stone was a map in relief, the lip of the land only a nail’s length above the sea, but it was clear enough.

I’d seen enough maps on Eavenfold that I could trace the outskirts of the island and the swirl separating Stormnoon’s Elegy from the shores of Verdusk.

Most of the pieces were carved like shepherds with crooks. They piled up at the internal shoreline of the Sightlands, the coast of the Oktorok Lake.

I blinked, touching the head of one of the shepherds. “What is this? All these pieces near Unger Lift.”

Seth looked back to the table, pausing as if he had forgotten the pieces were there. “The final stages of a war that has been building for years. The one I’ve been trying to stop. ”

Two shepherds sat in Droundhaven, one by the Vidarium. A full six lay near Unger Lift. Four by the border of the Soundlands, where they faced off against two carvings of a woman holding a flute, standing on a thick stone base.

It was the Five, I realised. The Sightlands troops were depicted by Edrin, the Shepherd. The Soundlands by Mephluan, the Muse. Over in the Tastelands, several carved men, holding goblets, sat near the western border of the Soundlands. Dional.

I pointed to the gathering of four carved women in Euphonos, and two carved women in Gossamir. “These are the Euphon troops?”

Seth nodded. “Yes.”

One shepherd was placed at the largely disused port in the southwest of the Soundlands. By Eavenfold records, King Odenor had decommissioned it long ago, but when I had passed through there, there was a healthy black market trading in all manner of goods.

And there was a shepherd sitting right in it.

Then the Wragg’s comments came back to me. The thane needs us.

I took it all in, connecting the dots. “Braxthorn means to support Thane Ivangor against King Odenor.”

Seth slowly nodded. “The Tastelands have been quietly ferrying arms into Sellador for years. The final stage will be a delivery of dragonscale armour and dragonblades. Alongside several thousand men. Braxthorn’s big move, his glory days of conquest returned, with the Euphons falling into line.”

Dragonscale and dragonblades.

By my blood, it was sickening. Vellintris.

She was just another part of the plan. Maybe she was the plan. The claw marks down her belly: I had suspected Chaethor. And yet, now, I wasn’t so sure. Maybe Braxthorn had ridden Kallamont up north and torn her apart. Could he do that? Was he cold-hearted enough?

I shuddered. “For what benefit? Why start a war?”

“Greed and power,” Seth said simply. “Always those, Tani. King Odenor will not let us trade, and Braxthorn wants their natural resources. This is the final step of all of it.”

The Euphons hated Thane Ivangor. They would die before they let him try to overthrow the king. Euphonos was utterly sacred to them, a quiet and holy city which allowed no cacof in at all. The thane was allowed to trade in essentials only, and at the great distaste of the tribespeople.

If they knew he had been supplied with weapons from the Triad, they would fight tooth and nail against him.

“And Gossamir?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Anyone loyal to the Euphonos King will die.”

“When?” I whispered.

“Our men are not used to fighting in the cold, so it will be soon,” Seth said. “They’ll aim to annex Euphonos within a season. I only hope Odenor surrenders quickly.”

I stared at his neutral face in utter horror. “Can you not stop it?”

He met my gaze with pain and exhaustion. “How, Tani? I dissuade, delay, advise caution. For years, I’ve made up visions of ships sinking to prevent a shipment of armour, but I cannot stall them any longer. Braxthorn is determined, and worse, impatient.”

“You should run with me.”

He smiled, then, his face as tired as ever before. “I intend to.”

I reached over the table to hold his hand. “You mean it?”

Seth gripped me back. My heart swelled as I stared at him. I wouldn’t be alone. I hadn’t realised how terrified I was to be alone. I felt his same terror coming back to me, so much uncertainty .

“I cannot be here when he launches this war,” he said. “The night we leave, I will write to King Odenor and tell him of the war coming towards him. Then we can both be hunted together.”

I released his hand, my hand drifting to the bundle at my chest as I looked back at the two women placed atop the forest. “Gossamir will never surrender.”

His voice was as somber as mine. “I know.”

Was there nothing to be done? Was there no way to stop the death wrought upon a land I had come to love, even if it did not love me back?

I thought of Yvon. Sollie. She would scream at the first beat of a drum, let alone the war that soon rode her way. Shadow. The hacked-up corpse of a once beautiful and ancient being, left in the woods. Even the Sons, that well-kept and long-protected secret.

The forest would never be the same again.

Only Braxthorn, and perhaps his sons, had the power to change it. I’d seen the look in the Wragg’s eyes when he spoke of the thane, the hunger for war. He would not be dissuaded.

But if I could influence Lang. If I could change his mind, or manipulate it.

Long had I pondered what my powers would be when they came, long had I thought about what I would do if I ever had them. The Brothers had theorised I may one day be able to change the emotions of others, to steer and guide.

If I could still marry Lang, perhaps I could stop this war.

I looked at Seth with a renewed hunger of my own. “What about levirate? Do they honour that here? In some of our villages, if a brother died, the surviving brother would marry his widow.”

“Tani,” he replied warily .

“Is it done in the Triad?” I asked. “If I killed the Wragg, and our engagement was known. Would Langnathin…?”

“I don’t know any precedent of it,” he said.

“And it is far too dangerous. You would have to kill him in some way that could never be connected to you, and people are already too hungry for your downfall. If he died accidentally, you’d likely be blamed anyway.

And then you won’t just be a runaway bride, you’ll be a murderer.

Give them no more reason to hunt us, please. ”

I sighed, my one last idea toppling.

Seth frowned, and held me in another embrace. Then he bid me stay put and left me alone with my thoughts.

I took in a ragged breath once I was alone again, and I studied the place that was once my homeland. My eyes swam with too many emotions to name.

Down in the Touchlands, a two-faced man stared out from Andiz, his first face smiling out south towards Point D’Aunder, and the other frowning up at Barrow’s Rest. In their records, Hain, the Two-Faced.

Once, Hain, the Healer of the Five. If I had only read The History , I would think him evil, too.

Or her, since the text never settled on one pronoun for even one steady chapter, and that probably led to their nickname as much as their supposed treachery.

But the Touchlands were my home, and we had our own stories.

His name was Hanindred. Hain was not one person, but two. Not Five, but six. Hanindred and Tavedwen, the first Swordblood and Shieldblood, the first twins to rule the Touchlands.

Hanin , a tired word mumbled into my head.

My thoughts had swirled loud enough to wake him. Yes, child. Tavedwen, the Shieldblood. Hanindred, the Swordblood. Founders of the Twin Lands.

Different people, with their own stories and motivations, now erased .

The dragon shifted, uncoiling inside the sling and poking his nose out. His nostrils flared as he took in the scents of the room, and then he blinked. Moon-white eyes stared up at me.

I rubbed his head with a small smile as a tear fell onto my cheek. From my readings, he could not see too far, only able to focus on what was within a few feet of him. He stared at me and yawned. Then he sounded it out, his voice uncertain. Han-in-dred.

Yes.

He seemed pleased at this. Strong?

They were both strong, together.

You, Shield. Tanidwen. Protect me.

I shook my head a little, but smiled. Yes, I will always protect you.

Me, Sword. Strong together.

My smile grew. We will be very strong indeed, little one.

He blinked at me. No. Not little one. I Hanindred.

My heart thudded as I stared down at him. You, Hanindred?

The dragon stretched, and purred. Yes. Together.

My eyes filled with fresh tears. Already, he curled back against me, satisfied with our short conversation and ready for yet another nap.

He had done it. He had named himself. After my history, after my ancestors. After the man whose name was forgotten and erased. I would not let my Hanindred be so easily erased. I held his body close as mine shuddered.

Soon, the Triad would erase another world. A world of silence, nature, and respect. What stories would they rewrite, then? Who would tell their history?

I picked up the dragontooth, its tip as sharp as any blade, and slipped it into the waist of my skirt. Seth was right; if anything were to happen to any royal in the coming days, they would find a way to blame me .

But I would not be caught unarmed, and I would not go down without a fight. Until Hanindred was old enough to be my Sword, I would be his Shield.