Redemption - M J Marlow (good book recommendations .TXT) 📗
- Author: M J Marlow
Book online «Redemption - M J Marlow (good book recommendations .TXT) 📗». Author M J Marlow
from Sylvan Ford. The princess must come at once.” He kept his eyes averted. “King Marius…” His expression was filled with anguish as he looked at Tavin, who had pulled on his leggings. “He has been assassinated. The lady Susa and her accomplice, lord Edmund of Fellstone, are being sought.”
“Susa and Edmund?” Marit shook her head and looked over at Tavin. “No,” she frowned as she pulled on her boots. “No.”
“It is obvious to us that the couple is being framed,” Tavin told the man. “Send out scouts. Tell them they are to find the pair and bring them to Stormkeep for safekeeping. If anyone asks,” he said as he held out his arms and Marit came to him, “the princess asked us to take over the investigation.” The man left and the door closed. He kissed the top of Marit’s head and just held her as she struggled to control herself. “Don’t hold it in, beloved,” he said gently. “He was a good man. He should be mourned.”
“He isn’t dead, Tavin,” Marit argued. She pulled away from him and ran from the room. She found her mother in her rooms and saw Margarete’s face. “You heard?”
“It’s not true, daughter,” Margarete told her fiercely. “I would know if your father was dead.” She held out her hand. “Help me find him.”
Marit sank to her knees at her mother’s side and held her hand. Together they moved out mind to mind, seeking. They found themselves moving through Sylvan Ford and along each clan. Marius was not there. His mind was faint and distant, but alive. Marit felt it first and she broke contact in shock. She was shaking in anger as she realized where her father had been taken. Why this lie had been set on them.
“My own cousin,” Marit hissed, her eyes blazing as she got to her feet, “has sold my father to the Emperor! He is on his way to Dunlevy on one of the Emperor’s vessels in chains!” She was on her way out the door when Tavin caught her. “Let me go, Tavin! He can’t do this to my father! I am going to make him bring my father back!”
“He did this to get to you, Marit,” Tavin told her as he set her on her feet and held her in place. “If you go to him, we’re lost.” He looked at her sternly. “He is not going to harm your father, at least, not until he has you. And you, my little one,” he said as he raised her eyes to his, “are mine! You said so yourself.” He looked over at Margarete, who was looking stunned. “In the first place, Aunt. We saw Gyr and Ashya in their true forms.”
“It is said,” Margarete said softly as she rose to her feet, “that one can see the face of their true mate in those statues.” She was smiling as she remembered. “I saw Marius and myself when I went there the night I ran from the courtship ritual. And you,” she looked at her daughter, “saw each other?” They nodded. “It is meant to be!”
“No,” Marit cried and backed away from them both. “Not at the cost of my father’s life, Tavin! Not at the loss of your beloved husband, Mother! The borderlands need their king. We must get him back.”
“Then we will, Marit,” Tavin told her firmly; “but not at the risk of losing you! I have friends and;” his eyes widened as he had a thought, “we have mercenaries! Marit! This is their sentence!” He kissed Margarete on the forehead and led Marit down to the rooms where the three brothers were being kept under guard. The guards opened the door and the three men rose to their feet. “You have one chance to prove yourselves worthy of mercy.”
“Our cousin, Andrew,” Raven said once they had told him their problem, “has a fleet of pirate vessels that work the waters between here and Dunlevy.” He looked at his brothers and they nodded. “We will send him word to strike all imperial vessels and release the prisoners.”
“Don’t tell him who the prisoner we are looking for is, Northlander,” Tavin told the man. He saw Marit frowning at him. “In case they are caught,” he told her firmly, “they will only be able to say that they were harassing the Emperor on sheer principle.”
“That helps your king,” Raven said to Marit and Tavin, “but it does nothing about the princess’ situation or her promise to visit the Northlands.”
“They will expect me to go home,” Marit frowned, “and will be waiting for me to arrive.” She sank down on a chair. “Tavin, please…”
“No,” Tavin broke in, knowing what she was going to ask. “You are not going.” He saw her frown. “I have already sent Janisa in your place. She has like enough coloring that those who do not know you well will be fooled. And since you are supposed to be in mourning, she will go veiled.” He looked at the north men. “We will go with you to your Northlands, just Marit and I.”
“Tavin,” Marit sighed and held her hand out to him. “I do not think that is wise.” She was suddenly feeling very strange. “I do not…”
“Marit!”
He caught her up in his arms and carried her to her mother. Then he ran for the healers. While he was gone, Amabet entered Margarete’s rooms. She met her sister’s eyes and Margarete could see what was happening. She watched as the guard to carried Marit out of the room and Amabet closed and locked the door, laughing in triumph. The guard followed Amabet down the back passages and out the bolt hole where the Emperor and his men were waiting. Marit was lifted up in front of Alexander.
“We caught it just in time, Excellency,” she told Alexander. “The princess and her cousin were about to be mated.”
“I want him dead,” Alexander told the woman. “I don’t care how you arrange it. I want his head as a display piece.”
“It will be done, Excellency.” Her mind was already spinning with plans. “I shall arrange it so that the North men take the blame.” She was already on her way back inside. “The house will believe it readily when one or two of them are found dead along with the boy.”
Alexander nodded and turned his horse towards Sylvan Ford. His men fell in behind him, as hard-faced as he. They arrived at the Abbey of Terrance and Marit’s great uncle came to them, his eyes filled with worry as he saw his great-niece’s palor. He followed the Emperor to the infirmary and stood near as the nuns tended to her. Marit came awake, screaming for her father. The Abbott held her in his arms as she sobbed, and he believed it to be grief.
“Give her something to help her sleep,” he told the nuns. “We will leave in the morning for the funeral.”
“He’s not dead, Uncle,” Marit cried, her eyes going cold as she saw Alexander watching her from the corner of the room. “It’s not true,” she said to her uncle, begging him to tell her the truth. “Susa would never hurt my father. Never!”
“There now, child,” the Abbott soothed as he patted her awkwardly on the back. “I know it’s a shock to hear of this. People are not always as we see them.” He handed her the cup the nun brought. “Drink this, Marit. Sleep is what you need now.” Marit did as she was told. She was in position to argue at the moment, and she still felt sick from whatever had struck her at the Keep. When she was asleep, the Abbott motioned Alexander to leave with him. “Poor child! She has gone through such horrors these past months.” He looked at the Emperor and saw only concern in the man’s eyes. “It will be better when she has a good, loving man at her side.”
“I care very deeply for her, lord Abbott,” Alexander lied easily. He looked towards the door and sighed. “I will devote myself to helping her forget all the pain she’s suffered.”
“You are a good man, Excellency,” the Abbott nodded. “It makes me wonder why my nephew was so unwilling to agree to your marriage to his daughter.” He turned away and failed to see Alexander’s frown. “Probably just wanted a chance to get to know his child after all the years they missed.” His smile was gentle. “She’s such a beautiful child; so gentle, so intelligent. The best of both her parents is in that girl.” He laughed and turned to Alexander, who was still looking back at the infirmary door. “She’s in good hands, Excellency. Come join me at supper.”
*
Marit whimpered as pain struck her over and over again and something cool was placed in her mouth. She sighed as it flowed down her throat and then there was a brief moment of peace. It ended as hands moved over her body and began to touch her in ways meant only for Tavin. Her eyes shot open and she saw who was attacking her, but she could not scream. Her voice was gone. She tried to fight him off, but her body would not obey her. Her mind was screaming as he continued his attack, sending pain cascading through her with no regard for her innocence, or her inexperience. He finished the rape and sat next to her, his hand stroking her hair.
“Now you are truly mine, Princess,” Alexander laughed down at her harshly. “Once we have ‘buried’ your father, we will be married.” He ran his fingers over her lips and felt her shudder. “He will remain alive, my pretty princess, as long as you do as I wish of you. Say one word, to anyone, of what happened here tonight, and he is dead for real.” He saw the defeat in her eyes and knew she understood. “Very good. I was certain you would understand.” He heard someone coming and pressed a kiss on her lips as the door opened. Then he turned to the nun. “She woke up when I came in to check on her, Sister.”
“She should be sleeping, poor lamb,” the woman sighed. She fixed another sedative and Alexander sat Marit up and held her so the nun could give Marit the drug. “She’ll sleep until morning now, Excellency. You should go to your own bed.”
“I’d like to sit with her a little longer, Sister,” Alexander said. He picked Marit’s hand up and held it in his, stroking her gently. She whimpered in her sleep and he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Soon, my lady love,” he whispered in her ear; “you will be all mine.”
When the nuns came in the morning, Alexander was sleeping in a chair near the bed. He was still holding Marit’s hand and she was awake, tears glistening in her eyes. She knew why he was there. He wanted to make certain she didn’t say anything to the nuns. He needn’t have bothered, she realized as she tried to say good morning and her voice refused to sound. She looked his way and saw the delight in his eyes as he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
“Good morning, my lady,” he smiled down at her. “I will leave you to the gentle sisters now. We will be leaving for Sylvan Ford right after breakfast.”
Marit bit her lip and fought to control her tears. She got up and had to sit down again as weariness hit her. How much sedative had they given her last night, she wondered as she put her talent to work to counteract the effects of the medications. The nuns helped her dress in somber hues of
“Susa and Edmund?” Marit shook her head and looked over at Tavin. “No,” she frowned as she pulled on her boots. “No.”
“It is obvious to us that the couple is being framed,” Tavin told the man. “Send out scouts. Tell them they are to find the pair and bring them to Stormkeep for safekeeping. If anyone asks,” he said as he held out his arms and Marit came to him, “the princess asked us to take over the investigation.” The man left and the door closed. He kissed the top of Marit’s head and just held her as she struggled to control herself. “Don’t hold it in, beloved,” he said gently. “He was a good man. He should be mourned.”
“He isn’t dead, Tavin,” Marit argued. She pulled away from him and ran from the room. She found her mother in her rooms and saw Margarete’s face. “You heard?”
“It’s not true, daughter,” Margarete told her fiercely. “I would know if your father was dead.” She held out her hand. “Help me find him.”
Marit sank to her knees at her mother’s side and held her hand. Together they moved out mind to mind, seeking. They found themselves moving through Sylvan Ford and along each clan. Marius was not there. His mind was faint and distant, but alive. Marit felt it first and she broke contact in shock. She was shaking in anger as she realized where her father had been taken. Why this lie had been set on them.
“My own cousin,” Marit hissed, her eyes blazing as she got to her feet, “has sold my father to the Emperor! He is on his way to Dunlevy on one of the Emperor’s vessels in chains!” She was on her way out the door when Tavin caught her. “Let me go, Tavin! He can’t do this to my father! I am going to make him bring my father back!”
“He did this to get to you, Marit,” Tavin told her as he set her on her feet and held her in place. “If you go to him, we’re lost.” He looked at her sternly. “He is not going to harm your father, at least, not until he has you. And you, my little one,” he said as he raised her eyes to his, “are mine! You said so yourself.” He looked over at Margarete, who was looking stunned. “In the first place, Aunt. We saw Gyr and Ashya in their true forms.”
“It is said,” Margarete said softly as she rose to her feet, “that one can see the face of their true mate in those statues.” She was smiling as she remembered. “I saw Marius and myself when I went there the night I ran from the courtship ritual. And you,” she looked at her daughter, “saw each other?” They nodded. “It is meant to be!”
“No,” Marit cried and backed away from them both. “Not at the cost of my father’s life, Tavin! Not at the loss of your beloved husband, Mother! The borderlands need their king. We must get him back.”
“Then we will, Marit,” Tavin told her firmly; “but not at the risk of losing you! I have friends and;” his eyes widened as he had a thought, “we have mercenaries! Marit! This is their sentence!” He kissed Margarete on the forehead and led Marit down to the rooms where the three brothers were being kept under guard. The guards opened the door and the three men rose to their feet. “You have one chance to prove yourselves worthy of mercy.”
“Our cousin, Andrew,” Raven said once they had told him their problem, “has a fleet of pirate vessels that work the waters between here and Dunlevy.” He looked at his brothers and they nodded. “We will send him word to strike all imperial vessels and release the prisoners.”
“Don’t tell him who the prisoner we are looking for is, Northlander,” Tavin told the man. He saw Marit frowning at him. “In case they are caught,” he told her firmly, “they will only be able to say that they were harassing the Emperor on sheer principle.”
“That helps your king,” Raven said to Marit and Tavin, “but it does nothing about the princess’ situation or her promise to visit the Northlands.”
“They will expect me to go home,” Marit frowned, “and will be waiting for me to arrive.” She sank down on a chair. “Tavin, please…”
“No,” Tavin broke in, knowing what she was going to ask. “You are not going.” He saw her frown. “I have already sent Janisa in your place. She has like enough coloring that those who do not know you well will be fooled. And since you are supposed to be in mourning, she will go veiled.” He looked at the north men. “We will go with you to your Northlands, just Marit and I.”
“Tavin,” Marit sighed and held her hand out to him. “I do not think that is wise.” She was suddenly feeling very strange. “I do not…”
“Marit!”
He caught her up in his arms and carried her to her mother. Then he ran for the healers. While he was gone, Amabet entered Margarete’s rooms. She met her sister’s eyes and Margarete could see what was happening. She watched as the guard to carried Marit out of the room and Amabet closed and locked the door, laughing in triumph. The guard followed Amabet down the back passages and out the bolt hole where the Emperor and his men were waiting. Marit was lifted up in front of Alexander.
“We caught it just in time, Excellency,” she told Alexander. “The princess and her cousin were about to be mated.”
“I want him dead,” Alexander told the woman. “I don’t care how you arrange it. I want his head as a display piece.”
“It will be done, Excellency.” Her mind was already spinning with plans. “I shall arrange it so that the North men take the blame.” She was already on her way back inside. “The house will believe it readily when one or two of them are found dead along with the boy.”
Alexander nodded and turned his horse towards Sylvan Ford. His men fell in behind him, as hard-faced as he. They arrived at the Abbey of Terrance and Marit’s great uncle came to them, his eyes filled with worry as he saw his great-niece’s palor. He followed the Emperor to the infirmary and stood near as the nuns tended to her. Marit came awake, screaming for her father. The Abbott held her in his arms as she sobbed, and he believed it to be grief.
“Give her something to help her sleep,” he told the nuns. “We will leave in the morning for the funeral.”
“He’s not dead, Uncle,” Marit cried, her eyes going cold as she saw Alexander watching her from the corner of the room. “It’s not true,” she said to her uncle, begging him to tell her the truth. “Susa would never hurt my father. Never!”
“There now, child,” the Abbott soothed as he patted her awkwardly on the back. “I know it’s a shock to hear of this. People are not always as we see them.” He handed her the cup the nun brought. “Drink this, Marit. Sleep is what you need now.” Marit did as she was told. She was in position to argue at the moment, and she still felt sick from whatever had struck her at the Keep. When she was asleep, the Abbott motioned Alexander to leave with him. “Poor child! She has gone through such horrors these past months.” He looked at the Emperor and saw only concern in the man’s eyes. “It will be better when she has a good, loving man at her side.”
“I care very deeply for her, lord Abbott,” Alexander lied easily. He looked towards the door and sighed. “I will devote myself to helping her forget all the pain she’s suffered.”
“You are a good man, Excellency,” the Abbott nodded. “It makes me wonder why my nephew was so unwilling to agree to your marriage to his daughter.” He turned away and failed to see Alexander’s frown. “Probably just wanted a chance to get to know his child after all the years they missed.” His smile was gentle. “She’s such a beautiful child; so gentle, so intelligent. The best of both her parents is in that girl.” He laughed and turned to Alexander, who was still looking back at the infirmary door. “She’s in good hands, Excellency. Come join me at supper.”
*
Marit whimpered as pain struck her over and over again and something cool was placed in her mouth. She sighed as it flowed down her throat and then there was a brief moment of peace. It ended as hands moved over her body and began to touch her in ways meant only for Tavin. Her eyes shot open and she saw who was attacking her, but she could not scream. Her voice was gone. She tried to fight him off, but her body would not obey her. Her mind was screaming as he continued his attack, sending pain cascading through her with no regard for her innocence, or her inexperience. He finished the rape and sat next to her, his hand stroking her hair.
“Now you are truly mine, Princess,” Alexander laughed down at her harshly. “Once we have ‘buried’ your father, we will be married.” He ran his fingers over her lips and felt her shudder. “He will remain alive, my pretty princess, as long as you do as I wish of you. Say one word, to anyone, of what happened here tonight, and he is dead for real.” He saw the defeat in her eyes and knew she understood. “Very good. I was certain you would understand.” He heard someone coming and pressed a kiss on her lips as the door opened. Then he turned to the nun. “She woke up when I came in to check on her, Sister.”
“She should be sleeping, poor lamb,” the woman sighed. She fixed another sedative and Alexander sat Marit up and held her so the nun could give Marit the drug. “She’ll sleep until morning now, Excellency. You should go to your own bed.”
“I’d like to sit with her a little longer, Sister,” Alexander said. He picked Marit’s hand up and held it in his, stroking her gently. She whimpered in her sleep and he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Soon, my lady love,” he whispered in her ear; “you will be all mine.”
When the nuns came in the morning, Alexander was sleeping in a chair near the bed. He was still holding Marit’s hand and she was awake, tears glistening in her eyes. She knew why he was there. He wanted to make certain she didn’t say anything to the nuns. He needn’t have bothered, she realized as she tried to say good morning and her voice refused to sound. She looked his way and saw the delight in his eyes as he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
“Good morning, my lady,” he smiled down at her. “I will leave you to the gentle sisters now. We will be leaving for Sylvan Ford right after breakfast.”
Marit bit her lip and fought to control her tears. She got up and had to sit down again as weariness hit her. How much sedative had they given her last night, she wondered as she put her talent to work to counteract the effects of the medications. The nuns helped her dress in somber hues of
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