Chapter 21

Mothers know best.

~ Queen Henova

Weary after so many nights of interrupted sleep, Kaylina dozed during the ride out of the city and into the countryside. The rain turned to snow and hail, leaving a dusting of white on the vineyards and orchards along the highway. She imagined the buds shivering as they struggled to find the energy to turn into leaves.

A few manors and castles were visible in the distance, none near the highway. They perched on hills overlooking it and their lands, with long winding drives leading up to their gates. As the carriage turned off the highway, Kaylina spotted a stone sign: Havartaft Estate.

Vast fields stretched to either side of the wide drive, some with hardy cold-weather crops already poking green shoots up through the snow. Orchards and rows of bramble bushes—raspberries and blackberries—remained dormant, the branches and vines skeletal. She noticed beehives between the fields, their designs different from the south, and eyed them curiously, wondering if Lady Havartaft would give her a tour.

She snorted to herself. The lords and ladies of the estate didn’t likely go out to the farm. They would have servants for that. Indeed, she glimpsed long rectangular bunkhouses and little clusters of warehouses and stables, mini towns used by those who worked the fields.

The carriage entered a circular drive at the front of a stone manor much larger than the cursed castle. It was immaculate, no chips in the facade or missing mortar, no peeling paint on the perky blue shutters or trim. A matching stable to one side held healthy-looking horses, some of whom were out in pastures pawing for grass under the snow.

Another uniformed man stood waiting for Kaylina, an emblem on his chest showing the same sword-and-horn as on the carriage. Was he a butler? She only knew about such positions from books she had read.

After Kaylina stepped out, the chauffeurs remained with the carriage and drove it over to the stable.

The butler said, “Good morning, Ms. Korbian,” and considered her bottles and weapons. He pointed at the alcohol. “If you’ve brought offerings, I can put them in the kitchen for the staff to taste and prepare for your meeting with Lady Havartaft.”

“Uh, sure.” Kaylina decided not to be offended by the implication that the servants had to taste her drinks to make sure they weren’t poisoned. Or maybe only to ensure they didn’t offer anything disgusting to their boss.

Let them taste the mead. It was fabulous, and the more people who knew about it, the better. Hopefully, the Havartafts paid their workers enough that they could afford to visit eating houses in town from time to time.

“Excellent.”

The butler rang a bell sitting on a table inside the door, then took the bottles. No more than three seconds passed before a woman in a black-and-silver dress hurried out to collect them.

“This way, Ms. Korbian,” the butler said.

“Any chance you can give me a clue as to what this meeting is about?” Kaylina followed him down a wide marble hall lined with paintings. Some featured snowy mountains or vast forests filled with game while others depicted ancient battles between men and Kar’ruk along rivers or in ships at sea.

“I am not privy to such information, Ms. Korbian.”

“You can call me Kaylina.”

“That would not be appropriate.”

“Are you sure? I’m not noble. You may have noticed.”

“You are a guest of the family.”

Kaylina paused at a painting in a more modern style than the others with bright colors that hadn’t faded with time. A lake with mountains in the background showed battles taking place on opposing banks. On one side, men with swords and bows battled beasts and Kar’ruk. On the other side, men in ranger blacks fought other men and used firearms and cannons as well as blades.

“That is a recent addition,” a woman said from a nearby doorway. “We had it done to honor my son.”

She was pale, a somber black dress making the lightness of her skin more pronounced, with her face lean and plain. Gray mingled with the auburn in her hair, the locks swept back to the nape of her neck in a ponytail. She didn’t wear any jewelry, and the simple clothing didn’t bespeak riches or pretension.

A couple of old scars—claw marks?—traced the side of her neck, one disappearing below the collar of her dress. Had the estate been attacked by the fearsome predators that came down out of the mountains?

“Vlerion?” Kaylina asked before remembering the lost brother he’d spoken of.

“Vlarek.” She—Lady Isla of Havartaft, presumably—studied Kaylina with the same curiosity that Kaylina studied her. “You are not what I expected.”

“Yeah, I got that from the chauffeur who implied you’d be deathly offended if I showed up in pajamas.”

Isla smiled faintly, no lipstick or other makeup brightening her face. “I am not easily offended. My mother attends many social functions and cares about such things, but after all I’ve endured, I am unconcerned by propriety.”

Yes, if she’d lost a son, what would lesser things matter? And those scars… Maybe the estate was attacked regularly. The rangers had to protect the lands of the nobles, as well as patrolling the borders, but Vlerion had suggested there weren’t enough men these days to handle all that their duties required.

“I’m sorry you lost your son,” Kaylina said. “How long ago did it happen?”

“Oh, some years back now. Almost a decade. It’s hard to believe it’s been that long. Someone once told me that wounds heal with time, but I’ve found that scars never go away, and they often ache in the deep of the night. We lost Avaron in the same year. After his son’s passing, he struggled to control his emotions, and… that is often the end for those cursed.”

“I… don’t understand,” Kaylina said, though if Isla had lost her husband too, no wonder she was grim.

“I wondered if he’d said anything to you.”

“Vlerion.” This time, Kaylina felt certain of her guess. “I don’t know him that well.”

“No? Beatrada thought you might have become close.” Isla considered her again. “I’m a little surprised, as he’s usually wise enough to avoid female entanglements, and you don’t seem… Well, no, you’re beautiful, certainly, and there’s an exoticness about you.”

“Er.” The assessment made Kaylina blush with embarrassment—and discomfort. “I think—who did you say?—gave you the wrong idea. Vlerion doesn’t like me. When we first met, he arrested me and my brother.” She didn’t mention hitting him on the head with a sling round. A mother might not approve of that. “Then his taybarri kept coming to visit me, and that irks him. Now, I’m supposed to be training as a ranger, and he’s supposed to be my teacher, and he doesn’t want to do it. Really, I don’t think he likes me at all. By the way, if you can do anything about it, I don’t want to be a ranger. I’m a mead maker. I brought some if you want to try it.”

“Certainly. We make mead here with the honey.”

Kaylina kept herself from suggesting hers would be better since that would be arrogant. And who knew? Maybe there was a master mead maker among the staff or family. “I noticed the hives.”

Isla’s gaze shifted down the hallway as the woman who’d taken the bottles walked toward them with a tray holding four glasses, two filled with the lighter-hued dry mead and two with the darker sweet. There were also three small silver plates containing cookies and pastries.

“Mead that the lady brought, my lady.” The woman ducked her head as she formally held out the tray. Her eyes twinkled, and she winked at Kaylina as she added, “It’s very good!”

Apparently, she was the taster.

“Raldo agrees,” the woman added. “And Trager.”

“Trager the stallion?” Isla raised her eyebrows.

“He came to the kitchen door with his nostrils twitching.”

“And here I thought only the taybarri had noses for mead,” Kaylina murmured.

“Interesting.” Isla took a glass of the dry, waving for Kaylina to have some, and sipped, then nodded. “Thank you for the gift.”

“Our meadery and eating house opens tonight if you or anyone you know wants to come by.” Kaylina probably shouldn’t be marketing when she didn’t yet know if the castle would allow guests, but… she couldn’t seem to stop mentioning it. It was her dream, damn it. She had to figure out a way to make it work.

“Hm,” was all Isla said in response to that. “Take the tray upstairs, Helda. I’m going to show our guest a few portraits and have a chat with her.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Weren’t they already having a chat? What else was there to discuss?

Feeling the need for fortification, Kaylina took a long swallow of the mead.

“Come.” Isla cradled her glass without taking another sip. Maybe she wouldn’t be as easily won over as the horse and the maid. At least she hadn’t curled her lip and returned it to the tray. “I will show you a few things while we discuss the matter further.”

The matter. That she thought Vlerion was into Kaylina? Kaylina didn’t want to discuss that further. She’d hoped she had straightened Isla out on the subject.

“Is your estate attacked often out here?” Kaylina asked as she followed Isla through a couple of seating areas to the back of the manor where private wooden stairs led to an upper level.

“It has been attacked by Kar’ruk and packs of northern wolves and yekizar numerous times over the centuries,” Isla replied without looking back. “It’s only been the animals since I married Avaron and moved here. The Kar’ruk rarely send raiding parties these days. Pirates and bandits occasionally try to sneak in from the sea, thinking the Torn Towers mean the coast is defenseless. I know the king would like to rebuild them, but such projects are more expensive in these times when men must be paid.”

“As opposed to when the nobles had slaves?”

“Serfs.”

Kaylina wasn’t the history enthusiast that her brother was, but she suspected there wasn’t much of a difference between those two terms.

“As with most of the coastal north of the kingdom,” Isla continued, “this area was once inhabited by the druids. Thanks to the magic they left in the land, our harvests are still prodigious, with our farms and orchards very healthy and not prone to disease and pests. They also left a few traps to thwart intruders. Perhaps I should say to thwart anyone who was not of their kind, but those who grew up here know to avoid those places. Would-be thieves from far away do not. The manor hounds sometimes find bodies along the cliffs overlooking the Strait.”

“Our hounds are more into pheasants and squirrels.”

“Ours are fond of those as well.” After leading Kaylina through another sitting room, Isla extended a hand toward an open doorway.

A large four-poster bed occupied the center, and bookcases lined one wall with plush reading chairs next to it. Dark blue wallpaper sprinkled with the family crest in silver made the room dim, but maybe it suited Isla. Even without her dark dress, she would have carried the air of a woman in mourning, a woman whose wounds refused to heal.

An orange tabby cat lounging against the pillows sat up and looked at them.

“Vlerion can appreciate art and craftsmanship in many areas.” Isla waved to a glass cabinet with musical instruments from around the kingdom, and was that a Kar’ruk bone flute? “Have you heard him play?”

“No, he oddly didn’t break out a violin while he was arresting me.”

Isla tilted her head. “Ms. Korbian, are you being snarky with me?”

“No. I was told that isn’t allowed between commoners and nobles.”

“It is most certainly frowned upon.”

“There won’t be flogging, will there?”

“Since you brought a gift, I’ll refrain from springing upon you with a whip.”

“I appreciate that.”

The cat hopped off the bed and padded toward them. Kaylina couldn’t imagine that it would smell the mead and be interested—cats were almost entirely carnivorous, weren’t they?—but maybe it had been lonely and wanted attention.

“I suppose, since I brought you here to impart upon you the need to avoid my son, I shouldn’t encourage you to get him to play for you.”

Avoid Vlerion? How was Kaylina supposed to do that when his captain wanted Vlerion to train her?

“He is quite talented though,” Isla continued. “His father and I thought… We didn’t expect either of the boys to buck tradition and join the rangers. To involve themselves in battles and combat of any kind. We forbade it, of course, but once Vlarek was sixteen, he joined. And after he fell… Vlerion followed in his footsteps, thinking he could accomplish what his brother hadn’t. Hubris. Both of them were full of it. All the males descended from King Balzarak have been farmers, and occasionally poets and artists as well. They’ve been talented in that area. And it is… what is safest for their kind.”

King Balzarak? Vlerion had spoken about him, the man who’d ruled when the druids had cursed the castle, but he hadn’t said Balzarak had been his ancestor. At the time of her questioning, Kaylina hadn’t thought much of Targon’s comment about Vlerion’s ancestors giving up the throne, but the pieces clicked into place now. Maybe it had been the druids’ curse that had prompted the family to step away from rule of the kingdom.

Isla gazed bleakly at a portrait on the wall, a middle-aged man with the same broad jaw and blue eyes as Vlerion. His father? Though the man’s hair was longer, and his face wasn’t as lean and scarred as that of his son, he had a fierce visage. There was a hint of something that could turn savage in those eyes. The same as Vlerion.

The cat brushed Kaylina’s trousers, then wove between her legs.

“When I lose Vlerion,” Isla said softly, “I will have lost everything. The gods did not bless me with any daughters, any who might have avoided the curse.”

“Why do you say when? I’ve seen Vlerion fight. He’s very talented at that. And when I say talented, I mean kind of amazing.”

Isla turned her gaze on Kaylina. She’d been about to crouch to pet the cat, who clearly wanted attention, but Isla startled her by saying, “You are attracted to him.”

“What? No.”

Kaylina remembered the way her body had heated every time Vlerion had touched her, and the way she’d struggled to look away from him shirtless. Heat flushed her cheeks. She shouldn’t lie to his mother, but it wasn’t as if Kaylina would act upon any instinctual attraction she might feel. She didn’t want to be attracted to someone who insisted on being called lord and got huffy because his taybarri liked her.

“If you’ve heard the term animal magnetism, it applies perfectly to the men of Havartaft Estate. I understand it well.” Isla’s voice dropped to a whisper, and she touched one of the scars on the side of her neck. “You’re drawn to them, even if you shouldn’t be. It is not your fault. Many women are affected that way, attracted to the danger they instinctually sense in the Havartaft men.”

“I’m not attracted to Vlerion,” Kaylina tried to assure Isla, though her face remained warm. She caught herself watching Isla’s fingers and examining those scars anew. Those claw marks. She remembered the utterly destroyed fur shark floating in the water, its head smashed in by raw power. Raw power and claws.

“Then you will find it an easy matter to avoid him.”

“Captain Targon is making him train me.”

“Targon should know better than that. Vlerion may excel at training men, but you are not a man.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“And you do not desire to be a ranger? I do not know what Targon is thinking, but I will speak with him. He can find another to train you or release you from the duty altogether. Why has he recruited you?”

“Because the taybarri like me.”

Her eyebrows rose. Maybe that wasn’t the usual reason one became a ranger.

“He thinks I’m an anrokk. I don’t know if you know what that is. I’d never heard of it, and I really doubt I amone anyway. I just have honey, and everyone—and every animal—likes honey.” Kaylina dug in her pocket for the honey drops. “I didn’t intend to give any to the taybarri. I wasn’t trying to suborn them, despite what Targon said. They showed up and helped themselves. Especially Crenoch.”

“Hm.”

Since Isla had only taken a few sips of the mead and didn’t seem that interested in it, Kaylina didn’t expect her to reach for the honey drops. But Isla plucked one out and slid it into her mouth before Kaylina could say she’d made the treats for the taybarri. Oh, well. It wasn’t as if it was a recipe for animal treats. Grandma served the honey drops with tea and mead for afternoon snacks at the Gull.

Isla’s expression didn’t change much as the sweet melted in her mouth, but she did eventually nod. “You have a gift for working with honey.” She nodded toward the glass of mead as well. “Quite a gift.”

“They’re my grandma’s recipes. She’s the gifted one in the family. And the bees forage on flowers from altered plants that grow wild on our islands. That’s our real secret.”

“You may sell yourself short. I believe, if you can avoid falling to the curse of that castle, you could succeed with your business endeavor.”

“Thank you.”

“Targon is foolish.” Isla took another honey drop, even smiling slightly as she popped it into her mouth. “That is where you should focus your efforts.”

“I agree wholeheartedly.”

“There is no need for you to interact with my son at all.”

Kaylina hesitated. It was… a true statement, but why did the thought of not seeing Vlerion again feel like a punch to the gut? They didn’t like each other. Not having to interact again should be a relief.

Isla’s eyes closed to slits as she regarded her.

“I agree,” Kaylina hurried to say. It would be logical to avoid Vlerion, to avoid all the rangers and concentrate on her dream. Her destiny. And this woman might turn out to be an ally, someone who could tell Targon off.

“If you are an anrokk, that might explain what Beatrada witnessed.”

“Who?”

“My niece. She went to ranger headquarters yesterday and saw you and Vlerion standing together. Closely.”

“Oh, that was his cousin?” Relief swept through Kaylina before she could remind herself that she wasn’t interested in Vlerion and might not see him again if his mother had anything to do with it.

“Yes. She brought him news of another lord who was killed, a tax collector who was visiting the Nockberry Estate.” Isla waved, perhaps to indicate that was somewhere close.

“With a blunt object?”

“I’m not certain of the details. If you are an anrokk…” Isla repeated, then trailed off.

“I don’t think I’m anything special.”

Isla looked pointedly down at the cat weaving between Kaylina’s legs and purring. When Kaylina looked down, it put its front paws on her thigh and gazed up at her.

“I…” Kaylina lowered her arms, not sure if she should pick it up when Isla was reading who knew what into the attention.

The cat startled her by springing into her arms, trusting she would catch it.

“They are almost entirely men when they are in their born forms,” Isla murmured, watching as Kaylina had little choice but to hold and pet the insistent cat. “But there’s a hint of the beast. It’s always there. Powerful. Dangerous. Just under the surface.”

Kaylina swallowed. She’d sensed exactly that numerous times when she’d been near Vlerion. “Especially when they get irked?”

“Yes. That is the nature of the curse. It is when their emotions are roused that the beast comes out. Strong emotions are what bestir it. Hate. Anger. Passion. Fear.” Her voice grew soft again. “Lust.”

“When you say bestir, do you mean…” Again, Kaylina thought of the catacombs, of the creature she’d seen.

“They turn from men into beasts.”

Isla took a lantern burning low near the bed and pushed on a bookcase, revealing a secret door, a windowless office behind it. Maps of the kingdom and enemy territories were mounted on the walls, but she went straight to a desk, a sketchbook open on the surface. She held up the lantern, gesturing Kaylina over.

Kaylina stared at a black-and-white illustration of the beast she’d glimpsed in the catacombs. Whoever the artist had been wasn’t as practiced as the people who’d done the paintings downstairs, but he or she had captured the predatory power and savagery of the beast. Sleek fur short enough that one could see every muscle underneath the pelt. Claws. Fangs. Genitalia close enough to human to be startling. But the eyes were wild. Crazy, one might even say. There was no hint of sanity in them. Of control.

“That’s Vlerion?” Kaylina whispered. “What he becomes?”

“This was my husband. I haven’t seen Vlerion when he’s turned, and I don’t want to since people inevitably die when it happens. Men, good men, lose themselves when they become the beast. They’re like rabid animals, savage instincts driving their actions. Only when they’ve sated their great surges of emotion do they change back into men. It can be minutes later. It can be hours later. The magic that the curse brings is unpredictable.”

Even though a part of Kaylina had grasped this in the catacombs, it was still shocking to hear the details.

“When they’re beasts, they kill indiscriminately. They sometimes know friend from foe but sometimes do not. And all men target them. Understandably, I suppose, but—” Isla’s voice cracked, and she took a slow breath before continuing. “That is how I lost Vlarek. His own comrades didn’t know about the curse, and when he turned and attacked people, they thought he was a monster down from the mountains. It took a great many trained rangers, but they slew him. Only when he died and turned back into a man, his body stark naked under the moonlight, did they learn the truth.

“That is why Captain Targon knows of the family curse. A few other rangers were there and also know. Before that, hardly anyone did. The descendants of King Balzarak Havartaft have kept it secret for generations, most of the men in the family seeking quiet lives, so as not to have the beast roused, so as not to kill, to murder. When it happens, sometimes they remember what they did. Sometimes not. From what my husband said, changing was like a dream—or a nightmare. Afterward, he was never certain what happened and what didn’t.

“As you might imagine, I was horrified to learn all this, only after my parents had promised me to Avaron. Our families were old friends, and my grandmother knew of the curse. Apparently, she promised me to Avaron because I was a bit on the dowdy side, someone she thought wouldn’t stir much lust but who could provide children.” Her lips pressed together. “You can imagine what an honor that was when I learned of it.”

Kaylina couldn’t help but stare as the story unfolded, absently petting the cat in her arms. If this was a huge family secret, why was Isla telling her? What if Isla planned to have her killed after revealing everything? Thus far, she’d seemed like she might help Kaylina, but who knew what was in the noblewoman’s mind? It wasn’t as if she had any reason to feel anything for Kaylina. Her cat might like her, but…

“You’re wondering why I’m telling you this,” Isla said, watching her.

Kaylina couldn’t imagine what expression was on her face.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Isla smiled thinly. “You seem like someone who would stir a man’s lust. If not his ire. Or both at once.”

What was Kaylina supposed to say to that? She couldn’t speak to Vlerion’s lust, but she’d irked him more than once. More than once a day.

“Even I did,” Isla admitted quietly. “Not at first, not when I lay there and let him…” She waved. “I was inexperienced. A virgin when we wed. But I was enamored with Avaron and wanted him to enjoy being with me. I feared if he didn’t, he would seek mistresses, so I… educated myself on pleasuring a man.”

Never would Kaylina have expected to discuss such things with a noblewoman, especially one she’d known less than an hour, but she couldn’t keep from asking, “Did he… change?”

Once again, the scars on Isla’s neck drew her gaze. A shiver of dread—of certainty—went through her.

“Yes.” Isla followed her gaze and traced the scars. “There are others.” She gestured toward her breasts and lower.

“Because he was mad or…”

“Aroused.” Isla flipped through the drawing pad, showing other pictures of the beast, and some of the man as well. “He knew when he was in that state that I was his mate—his female that he’d claimed—and, believe it or not, he was gentle, at least compared to when he attacked enemies. I lived, after all. And I… stayed. I loved him. And I bore his sons, which I don’t regret, but, eventually, he grew distant and slept in his own bed. I don’t think he went to others. I think he chose celibacy to ensure nothing would happen to the mother of his sons.” Isla stopped on an illustration of the father holding a baby and standing next to a boy of seven or eight. Vlerion and Vlarek. “Some of the men in the family have done that, choosing celibacy and refusing to take wives, not wanting to pass along the curse, but the beast has thoughts of its own when it comes to that. It seems to be embedded in them that the family line must be continued. The curse must be continued. Usually, at least one son carries on the seed, taking a wife and bearing children.” Isla turned back to Kaylina and held her gaze, her eyes intense. “Not all of those wives have survived. Sometimes, the beasts aren’t gentle, or there are accidents. They’re so powerful, so deadly…”

Mouth dry, Kaylina set the cat on the bed for an excuse to step away from Isla’s unwavering stare.

“Listen, I appreciate the warning.” Though Kaylina might have preferred fewer details. She also felt like an intruder now, knowing this much about the family history. “But it wasn’t necessary. I—”

“For Vlerion, there have been a few dalliances with women—it is hard to convince a young man that he should be celibate—and I don’t think any have ended… disastrously. But I doubt he would have told me if they had. His brother was his confidant. Since Vlarek passed, Vlerion keeps everything to himself. It was on a hunch that I had you brought here, and now that I’ve seen you might be an anrokk—” Isla glanced at the cat, still purring as it flopped down on the bed, “—I’m glad I followed my instincts and gave you this warning. For your own health and his, stay away from him. Please. Do not flirt with him. Do not even see him. If he turns, it’s dangerous not only for you but for him. As I told you, his brother fell to his comrades. His friends. I don’t want that to happen again.”

Kaylina licked her lips, not knowing what to say. “Isn’t there anything that can be done?”

“He does his best. When he feels his emotions rising, he sings or hums to himself, favorite old songs that calm him.”

Yes, she’d heard that. Now it made sense.

But what she’d meant was… “Isn’t there anything that can be done to end the curse?”

Isla shook her head. “For generations, King Balzarak”s descendants have tried. Some became scholars and dedicated their lives to nothing but researching the past, trying to find a way to appease the druids, but those who left the curse are, as far as anyone has been able to determine, gone again from this world. Perhaps forever. Most of the descendants eventually accepted that they were dangerous and they needed to lead quiet lives of farming or scholarship or the like.”

“Is the curse why King Balzarak abdicated the throne?”

“Yes. And it is why none of his male descendants attempted to reclaim it, even when they wished it, when they longed for the family to return to power. Neither my husband nor his sons would have turned on King Gavatorin, even if he’s not the man his father was, and his son is… a dubious choice for a future monarch. That family has known about and kept the Havartaft secret since the beginning, so we owe him.”

Kaylina hadn’t meant to suggest a rebellion or that Vlerion try to take the throne—the city had enough strife as it was. She’d only been curious. She couldn’t believe there wasn’t a way to end the curse. Why would the druids have condemned the offspring of those so far removed from the people who’d committed the original transgression?

Isla rested a hand on Kaylina’s arm. “Stay away from Vlerion. I can’t risk losing another son. You don’t know what it’s like… to outlive your babies.” She swallowed, her eyes moist. “I’ll speak to Targon.”

A horse whinnied outside. While Kaylina groped for what else to say, she drifted to the window, wondering if the carriage was ready to take her back.

But when she looked out toward the stable, she saw what had interested the horses. A taybarri had arrived. Crenoch. And Vlerion sat astride him. As if he felt her gaze, he looked up to the bedroom window, and their eyes locked.

An anxious flutter took Kaylina’s stomach. His face was unreadable, but her instincts told her he wasn’t pleased to see her here. To have his mother sharing his secrets with a woman he barely knew. With anyone.