The Princess of Sorrows Read online

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  Karon pulled her hood up and shrugged deeper into the fur of her cloak. No leggings would fit over her belly, so she was forced to make this journey in her warmest shift. The wind whipped around her legs, finding and biting at every unprotected bit of skin. The baby moved a bit, kicking Karon’s ribs in protest, but it settled. The way would be hard, and she must be back before dawn.

  The mud sucked at her leather-wrapped feet, making each step a struggle. She did not look back to gauge her progress and thanked the gods for each stretch of drier ground. She took it as a sign when the temple finally emerged from the darkness just as the sibling moons reached their guardian stations in the shimmering blue-black sky: big brother Tresta well on his way through his night’s journey and little brother Tamarath just starting out.

  The ground held firm under her feet here on this high hill, but the climb became more difficult. She ended up almost crawling on hands and knees to the top where a pair of bright golden eyes blinked at her from behind a moons-lit pillar.

  Karon felt an unaccustomed smile curve her lips and hoped this would ease the Danae stranger’s fears. “I am Princess of Sorrows,” she informed the golden eyes. She paused to gasp in a few more breaths. She wanted to sit, to sip water, to rest...but there is no time. “So named by the goddess Vail on the day I made First Kill. I follow the gods’ laws. I am of SanSerath.”

  The Danae stepped from the shadow of its pillar hiding place, revealing itself to be an aged man though still lovely as all Danae seemed to be. She thought he seemed very short even for a Danae—but I’ve grown tall since I last met one so close.

  “Lady,” he said, bobbing a graceful bow. “I am Bryn. You are welcome at the Temple of the Twins.”

  “Are they here?” Karon hoped against hope that the Danae man’s presence meant the gods were also within.

  The answering smile held a note of sadness which seemed to run very deep. “I have not seen any gods for moons and moons, lady. Perhaps you’ll have better luck, since you are favored by Vail.” His golden eyes took in Karon’s muddy, disheveled form, and his manner changed. “Lady, what brings you out so far and so late? Your babe—”

  “I must speak to the gods. I have come all this way.” Karon had never been one to cry—even her father’s death had caught more in her throat than her eyes—but she had stored much more hope than she’d realized in this plan. She hadn’t considered that she might come so far and not find the gods waiting for her.

  “Come inside, lady.” Bryn’s kind eyes coaxed. “There is water and food. You need to sit, and... the gods may appear.”

  They passed through an arched doorway and stepped into the dimness of the outer gallery. As she crossed into the holy inner hall, Karon noticed signs of decay and neglect. Moons-light glimmered from above, let in by gaps in the roof torn by the winds and storms that ravaged the moors.

  Bryn noticed her glance and seemed to draw in on himself. “We have not been able to keep the temple as it should be, lady,” he whispered. “To our shame. We hide within its walls for the waerloks won’t walk on the gods’ hallowed ground.”

  “I do not think the gods blame you for this decay.” Karon looked away from the old man’s discomfiture to make a more careful inspection of the temple. At the far end, Tresta and Tamarath towered over all, standing side-by-side, almost back-to-back, dressed in full battle armor. Their drawn swords were raised before them, their shields held to guard the sides facing the observer. The statues glowed, the fabled silver armor seeming to glitter. They are only stone. “They must be glad you are able to find safety with them at all. These are dark days.”

  “They are,” a new voice agreed. Karon and Bryn both turned toward its source. A young woman who had not been there a breath before now sat between the statues, one foot tucked under her. She wore a young man’s clothing—leggings and short shift and fur-lined cloak pinned at the shoulder. Her dark hair hung loose and wild, and she wore a bright, knowing grin and a knife strapped to her thigh.

  Karon bowed more quickly even than Bryn managed to. “Lady Vail,” she breathed. “You bless us.”

  “Little Karon.” The goddess’s eyes danced. “You’ve grown upwards and outwards.”

  Straightening, Karon’s hand moved automatically to cup her belly. “Yes. My eighth.”

  Vail hopped down from her perch between her stone brothers and crossed the hall. “Another child to follow you: strong and proud.”

  Karon looked away from this oblique praise. “I’m none of these things, blessed lady. I’m beaten and useless and constantly pregnant. My fool of a husband kills this kind man’s family and friends and gives their power to his tame waerloks...and he thinks to steal my throne...”

  Bryn placed a hand on Karon’s arm, his touch instantly soothing. Casting him a smile of thanks, Karon looked once more into Vail’s flashing eyes.

  “Forgive me, blessed lady. I did not mean to complain.”

  Vail reached out a hand and touched Karon’s cheek, a maternal gesture at odds with the goddess’s youthful, boyish appearance. “Dark times, my Princess of Sorrows. But you’ll manage.”

  Karon choked on desperation she only just suppressed. “Lady, please,” she began. “I came here for help. I don’t know what I can do against waerloks! I have no magic, and none of my people have magic. The waerloks have been taking so much, and I’ve no way to stop them—no way to fight them. I only know the sword—”

  “The Danae have magic.” Vail’s words twisted with meaning Karon couldn’t fathom.

  “Yes, to help living things grow and thrive and ease pain and care for wounds—”

  Vail nodded. “All very valuable gifts.”

  “Where are your brothers, blessed lady?” Karon pressed. “The Twins have always looked kindly on the tribes.”

  Vail shook her head and an expression of genuine sadness glimmered across her face. “The world is vast, my princess. All of my brothers and sisters are far away, tending to other problems in other lands. I am the only one nearby to hear your prayers.”

  Karon tried not to let the goddess see her devastation. Vail, youngest of all the gods, was known for games and laughter. The Twins—warrior gods both—had been her only hope to stand against Toin and his waerloks.

  Vail reached out again, this time catching a lock of Karon’s long, black hair. “This lovely bit of their midnight sky was a gift from my brothers. Your name was my gift. You are honored by the gods, princess. We must have had reason to think you worthy.”

  “Blessed lady...” Karon whispered. She’d never been so scared—never felt so helpless.

  “You have allies you do not see, my Princess of Sorrows. You have strength you have not tapped.” The goddess moved away, back toward her stone brothers.

  “Why ‘Sorrows,’ lady?” Karon shouted. Old anger welled up, burning away the threat of tears. “What does it mean?”

  Vail turned back, a sharp smile on her lips. “You of all people should know that, dear Karon.”

  Bryn’s soothing hand found Karon’s shoulder, and she bowed her head as Vail vanished before their eyes. A moment later, her strength failing her, Karon sank to the temple floor and buried her face in her hands. After a long silence, she choked out, “Allies I do not see...” and looked up into the Danae man’s golden eyes which twinkled at her in the twilight.

  “I believe I know what she means, lady,” Bryn said. Karon turned, following the Danae’s gaze, and saw a fragile, half-frozen child peeking out from behind a pillar. For a breath, she thought it was one of her own children, but when the girl stepped out of her hiding place, still trembling with cold or fright, Karon recognized her. “Síle?”

  The girl bobbed a bow. “Yes, lady.”

  Karon rose to her feet, as furious as an avenging goddess, and stared down at the girl from her far greater height. “Did Toin send you to spy?”

  “No, lady!” Síle flinched but Karon was impressed to see she stood her ground. “I followed you on my own—no on
e knows. I thought—” She faltered as Karon’s eyes narrowed to a deadly glare. “I thought you had some way to fight him!”

  “Him?” Karon echoed. “Who do you mean?”

  “Taggart!” Síle wailed, all of her barely-controlled emotions breaking free. “The waerlok! I’m to marry him, and he’ll find out—he’ll kill me!”

  Bryn moved across the space between them and caught Síle by the shoulders in a sort of half-embrace. “Now, now, dear child,” he murmured, patting the girl’s arm. “The princess will help you.”

  “The princess cannot help herself!” Karon exclaimed. “Nor do the gods seem to care what befalls us.”

  With an expression of very fatherly exasperation, Bryn turned to look directly at Karon. “This child, my lady, is one of your unseen allies. Do you not know that?”

  Síle froze, seeming stunned by the man’s words. Karon stared, having no idea what the Danae man meant.

  “My kind cannot call up magic to fight our enemies,” Bryn explained. “We work with the magic, focusing it, channeling it into the ground, into the air, into the water... But when the waerloks take our power, they can do all manner of things with it.”

  Karon felt her patience wearing ever-thinner. “I don’t see how that makes this child an—”

  Bryn interrupted, his manner growing more intense. “Why can they do so much more with our power than we can? Because they are human.” He gestured toward Síle then. “As is this young half-blood. Because of her human blood, she can make use of her magic to do more than I could ever dream.”

  Síle took a step back from Bryn, her face hiding none of her terror at his words. She took another step backwards as Karon whirled on her.

  “Can you?” Karon demanded. “Can you do magic like the waerloks?”

  “I— I’ve done a few things, lady,” Síle stammered. “But I’ve no training, and I—”

  Bryn interrupted. “Did you need training to breathe?”

  Karon warned herself not to hope. “Try something.”

  Síle’s eyes darted around the room as if she sought an escape, but she at last looked back at Karon and Bryn, helpless. Karon wondered if she’d ever seen the girl’s eyes before—so clearly gold-tinged—and remembered how wraith-like Larel’s eldest had always seemed.

  She’s been hiding this secret all her life, living in fear, and now Toin’s foolishness has made her worst-of-all-fears come true.

  “What should I do, lady?” Síle asked at last, her voice breaking under the weight of her unshed tears.

  “This roof?” Karon forced a smile onto her lips as she gestured toward the gap opening the holy shrine to the sky. “Can you repair it?”

  Though he looked uncertain, Bryn tried to pretend confidence. “Just try, dear child.”

  The girl squeezed her eyes shut, swaying and pale in the moons-light which seemed suddenly to brighten around her as Karon watched. Síle’s breathing rasped, the only sound in the silence of their waiting. As the light gradually dimmed, Karon looked up, expecting to see clouds through the broken roof. Instead, she saw flawless white plaster.

  She took a step toward Síle, her eyes locked on the girl. “Do something else!” she commanded, too excited to believe such clear evidence.

  Sweat beaded the girl’s brow but she nodded, eyes glowing a brighter gold as if the use of her long-hidden magic kindled an inner fire.

  Bryn intervened. “I think she has done enough for one night.”

  “Have you known all this time?” Karon demanded of the elderly Danae. “Why haven’t you said?”

  Bryn held out his hands in a small shrug. “To do what, lady? The waerloks are many, and your man harbors them where we were once used to welcome. None of us can kill. Even half-bloods feel the pain of those around them and might die if they tried to kill. How could such weak things as we stand against murderers and armed men? But with a leader such as yourself...”

  Strategies rose up in Karon’s mind, and with them, the first glimmerings of hope. “Honored Bryn,” she whispered. “Are there any more children like dear Síle?”

  The Danae man’s smile echoed Karon’s hope. “There are a handful of us here at the temple, lady.” As if called by these words, shuffling feet sounded on the broken tile floor, bringing several newcomers into the now well-sealed inner hall. “But this child’s mother harbors several more like her within SanEdora’s walls.”

  “I see,” Karon breathed. “Honored Bryn, how quickly can you take a message to SanSerath for me?”

  “They will know your wishes before midday, dear lady.”

  As fast as that... magic, indeed.

  Karon kept her voice even with great effort. “Then if you would please tell my brothers that as quickly as they can deliver my sword to me, they must. I have need of it.”