Bones of the Dragon - Margaret Weis [114]
Skylan clasped his hand around the amulet and prayed more fervently than he had ever prayed in his life.
“Now you must help me, Torval! You must rid me of my wife!”
CHAPTER
3
Draya rose early on the morning after her wedding. She longed to go to the Great Hall of the Gods, to prostrate herself at the feet of Vindrash, and cleanse her soul by confessing everything to the goddess. Draya could not, however. The reason she gave herself was that people would think it very strange for her to be leaving the joys of the marriage bed the day after the wedding night. No one would say anything, of course, but there would be whispers and pitying looks.
The true reason Draya was not prepared to face Vindrash: Draya had lied to Skylan last night when she assured him Vindrash knew of her crime. Draya hoped she had acted with the goddess’s knowledge and approval, but she didn’t know for certain. Vindrash had not spoken to her since the night the goddess had said she must go into hiding to escape her enemies.
Torval had cursed her. Of that, Draya was sadly certain. She had usurped his judgment, taken it upon herself. He was furious with her, and he had vented his fury by causing her handsome young husband to hate her.
She must make the journey to the Dragon Isles, to the Hall of Vektia, to beg Torval’s forgiveness. The gods would be there—if they were anywhere. Skylan would accompany her. It was traditional for a new Chief of Chiefs to travel to the Dragon Isles. Perhaps on that long sea voyage, alone together, they would be reconciled.
Draya splashed cold water on her face, trying to ease the burning of her eyes. She had been so happy yesterday. And she had spent her wedding night sobbing herself to sleep.
I brought it on myself, she realized miserably. I was wrong to lose my temper with him. I should have been patient, understanding. He is only eighteen. Of course he must think me old. I am one of the oldest women in the city! But in time, he would have come to see that age does not matter. In time, he would have come to love me.
She crept quietly into the living area, where Skylan lay asleep, tangled up in the blankets and the bedding. His hair was tousled and his face stern, as though even in sleep, he was still angry. She had heard him tossing and turning half the night before he settled down. She stood gazing on him and felt the hot tears sting her eyes again.
“I should never have told you the truth!” She spoke very softly. “I hoped you would understand, but I forgot how young you are. Youth sees everything either in the bright glare of the sun or hidden by impenetrable darkness. For the young, there is no twilight. You judged me harshly, as I deserve, but you cannot know the terrible burden of responsibility I bear!”
A part of her hoped he would hear her plaintive whisper and waken and smile at her and take her in his arms. Instead, he rolled onto his belly and pulled the fur blanket over his head. Draya sighed and went about her daily house hold tasks, moving silently so as not to waken him.
By midmorning, Draya was ready to leave the house. Her duties as Kai Priestess continued. She had arranged a Kai Moot, a meeting of the Bone Priestesses, some of whom had traveled a far distance to witness the Vutmana. This was a rare opportunity for the Priestesses from other clans to come together. They had much to discuss.
The Priestesses were upset over the failure of their prayers to Desiria, Goddess of Healing. Many had received other strange and ominous signs that all was not well in heaven. The worst of these were the destruction of the Torgun’s ancient statue of Vindrash and Treia’s report of her conversation with the Dragon Kahg that there had been a war in heaven and it had not gone well for the Gods of the Vindrasi.
Draya had to decide what to tell the Kai and what to conceal. She must tell them that Desiria was dead. Treia already knew that much from the Dragon Kahg, and she had spread the word. Treia seemed to relish spreading