Page 16 of To Touch A Silent Fury
Tani
“It’s time,” Seth said, looking at the first Ergreen sunset of the year. “Are you ready?”
Everyone had come out for the announcement, the courtyard filled with grey hoods and shuffling feet. Whether it was my infamy or the Dragon Prince’s that drew them in, it mattered little. I’m sure they all hoped just as fervently as I did for a Fate that sent me far from here.
“I thought I would be,” I replied, the beads shaking as we stood at the edge of the grouping. “But after that Ceremony, I don’t think I’m ready at all.”
The three death pillars from Harum’s Fate had been pulled down around noon, and I couldn’t see any new scaffold ready. Not Death, then. The tiny glow of hope that deduction provided was stilled by my memory of the look in Isillim’s eyes that dawn. Maybe he had carved some other revenge for my snubbing of his path, if he was wise enough to know my intention.
Seth touched my shoulder. He wasn’t trying to share his emotions with me, that wouldn’t work through the fabric. It was purely for support. I realised then I’d pinned all my hopes on being separated from my only friend. Now more than ever, I had no idea what I was doing.
“I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you thought.”
“There’s nothing I can do about it.” My voice sounded terribly defeated even to my own ears, but I had no energy to fake a smile.
The five Threads stepped out from their chamber, and behind them, the Dragon Prince.
Langnathin had changed from the riding outfit he’d worn at dawn. He looked scarier now, in midnight dress robes adorned with red tassels and his dark hair slicked back. Behind the Threads, his darkness was a fearsome contrast, with his gaze so punishingly impassive I must have concocted any idea of mirth on his mouth earlier.
My eyes flickered to the sky. I hadn’t seen his dragon again since that moment on the moors, but I knew it was nearby. The unbound around me spoke in hushed whispers of sightings, exaggerating its wingspan and inventing tales of dragonfire. I wondered what it was eating, where it would sleep.
Thread Groulin silenced the boys with a hand. The Thread of Knowledge always led this announcement, regardless of the path of the Brother. “Unbound Tanidwen, come and kneel before me.”
Seth’s hand dropped from my shoulder as the crowd of boys and men parted for me without hesitation. Of course,nowthey were helpful, when I probably walked towards thirty years of servitude.
I moved through them, keeping my head high even as I heard sniggers and hastily whispered curses. A small waveof gratitude swelled in me then for the Dragon Prince’s unexpected visit, for at least his presence kept my Brothers from outright hostility.
I mounted the wooden stairs to the low dais in front of the South Wing. The same one that Harum had stood on fifty days ago, and each of my bound Brothers before him. I kept my eyes on Thread Groulin as I took small steps to the middle, tunnelling my vision on him alone to keep from the prickling sensation of Langnathin’s dragon-red eyes.
Before the Thread of Knowledge, I fell to my knees on the damp threadbare fabric marking my spot, facing away from my unbound Brothers.
He nodded to me, stood like the rest of the five with his hands clasped before him and his hood covering half of his face. In his shadowed gaze was a hint of compassion, even pity, and that was the first time I felt true fear for my Fate. What task was he about to bind me to?
“Before the rising moon of Ergreen, as night falls on the first day of your fourth span, we bind you to this Fate. You have completed the test and agreed to be bound by its result. From this day, you will only unlock the full breadth of your ability when the condition is met. If the condition is never met, you will be bound to it for life, always as you are. If the condition fails, you will be Fate Broken, and you will be removed from the Brotherhood and never welcomed back to Eavenfold, nor given any placement in any court.”
“This is known.”
I flinched as the chorus of men and boys chimed in, louder than I’d ever heard.
“Tanidwen Treleftir, you have on this day been bound to a Marriage Fate,” he said, and my stomach dropped. “You must marry the victor of the upcoming Laithcart Games.”
My ears rang, my mind whirling with shocked torment. If there was surprise, discontent, or laughter, I heard none of it.I only heard the words ‘Marriage Fate’ over and over again. It couldn’t be.
I might have accepted Death more easily than this.
Thread Groulin said something then, but I didn’t hear it. It was only from having observed tens of these Ceremonies that I recalled the next instruction.Rise. I got to my feet, my vision blurry. I blinked back the tears, still facing away from the crowd.
It was then I locked eyes with him, the Dragon Prince. His gaze was cool and assessing as he watched me. There was no sympathy or warmth, only a curiosity.
Thread Ersimmon stepped forwards and touched my shoulder, his tanned face at odds with the rest of the pale council. His touch was firm, and his look steadier than I’d ever seen it, making him seem younger than the lines on his face would argue. “I will accompany you to Isle de Courvin. We board the ferry at dawn.”
I nodded, still not processing it all. He would be my mentor now, offering advice to complete my Fate. I imagined what an old scholar knew of jousts and wooing was limited at best.
A Marriage Fate.
I couldn’t fathom it. And yet, it was done, the call was made. I studied the other Threads, but they were largely disinterested. There was nothing now that could be said to reverse it.
If I wanted to claim my full power, I had to marry the victor of a battle of might. Not wits, nor poetry or literature. My husband would be a peacocking third son with an ego and a strong right hook. Every moment I spent considering it, standing frozen on that dais, it only seemed to get worse.
