Read Online Path of the Sun: A Novel of Dhulyn and Parno by Violette Malan - Free Book Online Page B

trees that covered the hills surrounding Uraklios. They were simple in design, unadorned and backless; three were distinguished by their cushioned seats. The chairs were spaced evenly around a low table whose tiled top was obscured with plates of food, gold-rimmed cups, and two fine-necked pitchers of liquid.
    A younger man, who had seen his birth moon perhaps twenty-three times, was straightening up from the table as they entered. He seemed to have been arranging the plates of food, but he was clearly not a servant. He had the same dark, almost black hair as the older man who was now turning from the window, the same warm olive skin, but his eyes were a startling blue in a face so beautiful he might have been the joy of any acting troupe—if there had been any emotion showing.
    “My lord,” the Steward of Keys said. “Here are the ladies of Arderon.”
    Cleona looked from one man to the other, and Dhulyn held her breath, wondering if it was part of her job to prevent the princess from making a social mistake. But she need not have worried. Alaria touched her cousin on the elbow and passed some signal Dhulyn could not see. The older princess focused her attention on the younger man. Her upper lip stiffened for just a moment before her diplomatic mask reformed.
    Dhulyn almost laughed. She’d seen exactly that look on the faces of noblemen in the country of the Great King, where women were valued only for their beauty—and their fertility. Was it possible that in Arderon handsome men were thought to be as shallow and frivolous as the beauties in the Great King’s court?
    And was it possible that Princess Cleona was now re-evaluating her upcoming marriage with that thought in mind?
    “Tarkin Falcos Akarion,” she said, with a slight inclination of her head. “I am the Princess Cleona of Arderon, and this is my cousin, the Princess Alaria.”
    “You are most welcome, Lady,” he said, giving her a bow the exact measure of her own. “Allow me to present my father’s brother, Epion Akarion.” He glanced at Dhulyn and Parno, looked back at Cleona, and waited, his perfect features a sculpted mask.
    Dhulyn smiled her wolf’s smile. The uncle stepped up closer, narrowing his eyes. Epion Akarion was not as much older than his nephew as Dhulyn had thought. The family resemblance was clear, but there was something agreeably plain about the uncle’s face.
    “Falcos Tarkin,” Dhulyn said. “I am Dhulyn Wolfshead, the Scholar, Schooled by Dorian of the River. This is my Partner, Parno Lionsmane, called the Chanter, Schooled by Nerysa Warhammer.”
    Rather to her surprise, the young Tarkin smiled back at her, and his chill beauty warmed. “I have heard of you,” he said. His smile faded abruptly. “That is, your Brothers who were here before spoke of you. You are well known in your Brotherhood, it seems.”
    “Those of us who live long enough do gather a certain measure of fame to ourselves, this is true,” Dhulyn said. “We come here as guards to the Princesses of Arderon,” she continued. “They are in our charge until they reach your hands.”
    “And as they have now reached the Tarkin’s hands?” This was the uncle, his voice a rounder, deeper baritone than that of his nephew.
    Dhulyn turned to Princess Cleona and bowed. “Lady, our contract is fulfilled. We consider ourselves discharged.”
    “Is any payment required?” The uncle again. Dhulyn was beginning not to like the man. She glanced at Parno and saw that her Partner was stifling a smile.
    “Our contract is with the Mercenary House in Lesonika,” she said, directing her words to the Tarkin. “We are content.”
    Princess Cleona pulled off one of her gold and silver armlets. “Thank you for your company on this part of our journey, Dhulyn Wolfshead, and for the lesson in the staff.”
    “We come to serve, Princess.” Dhulyn accepted the bracelet, tucking it into a fold in her sword sash.
    “And I also thank you for your service to the Tarkina