By Destiny Bound (The Lost Shrines Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  d'Hara Manor, Hara Dale

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  -3-

  -4-

  -5-

  -6-

  -7-

  -8-

  -9-

  -10-

  -11-

  -12-

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  By Destiny Bound

  Amberlyn Holland

  Copyright © 2016 by Amberlyn Holland

  Cover design by Lou Harper

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Amberlyn Holland

  [email protected]

  www.amberlynholland.com

  First Edition, 2016

  DEDICATION

  For Joe, Richie and Dad. Heroes whose stories ended much to soon.

  d'Hara Manor, Hara Dale

  THE party was in full swing, but Maddyn stood on the edges. From his vantage point, he had a good view of all the exits and could pick out his brothers in the crowd, no matter where they went.

  Not that he was expecting trouble at the celebration of Caerwyn's wedding to Liadan, the Lady of Hara Dale. It was just a habit to watch over the family he had left.

  So Maddyn would stand guard and keep alert while his family enjoyed the brief reprieve.

  "Another drink Lord...milord?"

  The girl blushed prettily and the tray holding punch filled glasses trembled slightly in her hands.

  "No, thank you, I'm good," he said, holding up the half-filled glass of too-sweet liquid he still held.

  He'd long since resigned himself to strangers having a hard time telling him apart from his brothers. At a casual glance, there was little to distinguish between them. Taller than most men in the room, pale hair braided in traditional Thousand Tribes style and wearing white Milesan fighting leathers, they looked almost identical, even if they stood out from everyone else in the room.

  Despite the superficial similarities, though, their personalities were very, very different.

  Quiet Ranulf had already disappeared from the festivities. He'd stayed through the ceremony and long enough to celebrate the joy of Caerwyn and Lia's joining. Then he'd silently blended into the shadows before edging his way out onto the empty balcony beyond the open door.

  A couple of the manor dogs had dropped by his feet, accepting the pats and scratches he doled out generously. Ran always seemed more comfortable with his own thoughts and the silent acceptance of animals than small talk or crowds.

  On the other hand, Phelan, the youngest of them, exuberantly held court in the center of the room. Surrounded by a dozen or so of the Dale's younger generation, he regaled them with a, no doubt exaggerated, tale of his adventures.

  The punch in his glass sloshed dangerously when he jabbed the air to emphasize some point or other. The girls giggled and the boys stared in rapt fascination.

  And Maddyn, well, he did what he always did. Watched over his family. As the eldest, it had always been his responsibility to watch over the younger two. And when they'd been orphaned by the war and adopted into the Alwyn clan, he'd accepted responsibility for Caerwyn, as well. Even though his foster brother was the same age and technically his Lord.

  Caerwyn smiled down at Lia, adoration in his eyes and Maddyn had no doubt he'd soon be watching over another generation as well.

  *****

  The next morning, Maddyn realized the pleasant reprieve was over when Lia's chamberlain intercepted him on the way to breakfast. Instead of the dining room, she led him to an out of the way office where Lia and Caerwyn waited.

  A desk had been shoved out of the way up against the wall and held a selection of food and drink. Maddyn grabbed a biscuit then turned to look at the table dominating the center of the room.

  A huge map was spread out on it. Marks had been inked in random spots all over the continent and the Milesan Isles, and a handful of rods that looked like knitting needles were scattered across the surface.

  "That's the map from Hafgan's stronghold," Maddyn said evenly, though he knew Caerwyn would understand the underlying question. Before Caerwyn could say anything, the door opened again, and his two younger brothers walked in.

  Phelan's eyes squinted at the bright light shining through the wide open windows. He groaned and headed for the carafe of water on the desk.

  Ranulf bypassed the breakfast offerings altogether and came to stand next to Maddyn. "What's going on?"

  Maddyn shrugged and glanced at his foster brother expectantly.

  Caer sighed and scrubbed his hand over his eyes before answering. "We know Hafgan is trying to get control of the magic contained in the ancient shrines marked on the map. We think he may be getting desperate. He's going to try for another. At least one. Soon. And if he can't get it through subterfuge I'm pretty sure he'll send his tame Warlord to take it by force."

  "Why? Why now? He's been doing this through politics and deception for decades. Ever since his attempts to invade the territory of the Thousand Tribes failed."

  Maddyn couldn't keep from reaching for the map. His fingers slid over the mark at the heart of the northern territory. Mere miles from where their kin-tribe had once called home. Where his entire kin-tribe had been slaughtered and Maddyn had to choose between death and giving up everything he and his brothers had ever known.

  Caerwyn didn't answer, just nodded to Lia, who stepped up and gave Maddyn a sympathetic look before pointing to a shrine marked on the map.

  "I sent Keneally to...visit some acquaintances in Marnak, near here."

  In theory, Keneally was the manor's land manager. In reality, the ancient looking man seemed to be at the heart of protecting and defending every aspect of the tiny valley kingdom.

  "I think this is the first shrine he corrupted. Now the area surrounding it is a wasteland. The land is barren, and the villages are abandoned. He's either drained or poisoned the magic so much it's no longer renewing itself. Soon it won't be of any use to him, and he'll need another source to equal the power he's used to."

  Sprawled on a chaise, Phelan choked out a harsh humorless laugh. "Of course. Going back to simple blood sorcery would be such a letdown. Torture and murder are so time-consuming for a man trying to conquer the world."

  The words were flippant but edged with disgust. Maddyn glared at Phelan for a moment but turned back to the map and stared at the multitude of marks scattered across it.

  "How are we supposed to figure out which one he'll target next? We can't protect all of them."

  Lia's mouth firmed into a pinched line, looking both guilty and resigned. Her long exhale was the only sound in the room before she started speaking

  "What I'm about to tell you is something that is never shared with outsiders."

  She met each of their eyes in turn, making it clear she expected the secret to be kept. "The Circle in Marnak that Hafgan depleted was a gathering place for priestesses and Handmaidens from all over the continent. According to what was passed down through generations, it was where the most powerful leylines met. Our Circle is the only other one that comes close to it."

  Hafgan and Tresk were unlikely to come after Lia's Circle again, though. Despite the end of the betrothal agreement, Daen had made it clear there was an accord between Galwei and Hara Dale. And, while they'd kept the marriage quiet, the ties to Alwyn and the Milesan Isles would be another layer of protection for the valley.

  "What's the next most powerful?" Ranulf asked the question all of them were thinking.

  Lia bit
her lip and glanced back at Caer before answering carefully.

  "The only other source that strong is the web of power created by the four treasures of Milesans."

  Her hand waved over the area of the map labeled Milesan Isles. The depiction of the islands themselves was haphazard and incorrect. Through a combination of natural maritime hazards and a variety of magics, the Isles inhabitants had kept the actual locations of most islands a secret for centuries.

  Which was why seeing the four marks representing the Cauldron, the Lance, the Sword and the Orb made Maddyn's stomach clench. No one should know the locations of their greatest treasures. Caerwyn's family had been protecting the Cauldron since the Milesans had first made a pact with the dying gods of the Isles. The ancient deities had offered the treasures, and the power the four together created, in exchange for a promise that every Milesan born would carry the Attributes of one of the extinct gods.

  Even though they hadn't been born a Milesan, he and his brothers had shared the Attributes of the god of Death since Lady Alwyn had saved them with the power of the Cauldron. Seeing the marks, stark and red where no one should know anything existed made Maddyn feel like a failure.

  Still, even Hafgan and Tresk weren't delusional enough to think they could take on the entire Milesan race in their own territory.

  "There is only one way for him to obtain the power he's used to," Lia continued, picking up one of the slender rods and setting it precisely on the map. "He has to create a similar web out of sites whose leylines intersect."

  Lia set two more rods in place to form a triangle, each point lining up perfectly with one of the marked shrines.

  One in the disputed area between Marnak and Tribe territory, where few risked settling. One in the capital of Galwei. And one in the waters of the Milesan Isle.

  "Why those three? How can you be sure?"

  Ranulf didn't take his eyes off the map as he spoke, voice raw with emotion that made Maddyn want to comfort him. But he knew drawing attention to his brother's pain was the last thing Ran would want.

  Lia waved at a book set off to the side. "Because I have maps of my own that show the known leylines of the continent. These are the only ones that line up properly."

  Ran brushed his fingers over the marked island. "That's Tirnan. The Sword is there."

  Maddyn winced. The Tirnans and the Alwyns had been rivals for generations. The current Lord Tirnan held nothing but contempt for Caerwyn and felt even more strongly about the Hounds. Getting his cooperation would be difficult, to say the least.

  "There is also an ancient cave," Lia added. "It was dedicated to the Goddess a millennium before the Milesans arrived on the Isles. If Hafgan gets control of either, it would be bad. Both would be catastrophic."

  Ranulf lifted his chin. "I'll go to Tirnan."

  "Are you sure?" Caerwyn asked. Of them all, Ranulf had the most reason to avoid Tirnan.

  "I'm sure."

  The iron in his voice was unshakeable. Ran didn't get stubborn often, but, when he did, he was immovable.

  "I guess I'll take the border, then," Phelan sighed. "I've got contacts in Marnak. What am I looking for, Lia?"

  "There was a sacred well, once, but it has been centuries since that information was last recorded. The fort where we found Tanis was built over a destroyed Circle."

  "Right. So I'll need a cover to do a little recon before I go in."

  Maddyn narrowed his eyes at Phelan, wanting to ask a question but he knew he wouldn't be answered. Of the three of them, Phelan was the one most likely to go off on his own. Sometimes at Caerwyn's request. Sometimes on his own whim. He never talked about those missions. Still, Hafgan and Tresk would slaughter him on sight. And the Tribes had disavowed them the moment they heard about the brother's resurrection in the Cauldron.

  Every one of Maddyn's protective instincts shrieked at him not to let his youngest brother go into that kind of danger alone.

  But too much was at stake. Phelan, like all of them, could take care of himself. And Maddyn was needed elsewhere.

  "I guess that leaves Galwei for me," Maddyn said. Then looked Caerwyn. "Are we sure Daen isn't holding any grudges?"

  "Honestly, I think he was relieved," Lia answered for him with a self-depreciating smile. "He agreed to a protection treaty with Hara Dale before he left. He's furious that Hafgan manipulated and cursed him. He doesn't blame us. Trust me, he'll help you take down Hafgan anyway he can."

  After that, it was only a matter of organizing and planning.

  Recovered from the previous evening's overindulgence, Phelan grew restless quickly, fidgeting and groaning every time someone suggested another task for preparation.

  Finally, he couldn't seem to contain the need to move any longer and got to his feet. "I'm going to leave the logistics up to the four of you. If I set out tonight, I can meet up with one of my contacts without having to wait a week or two for him to come near again."

  Before Maddyn could think of a reason to protest, Phelan was out the door and out of sight. A weight of apprehension settled low in his gut. It felt wrong to split up this way. To not be watching over his brothers. But he didn't have a choice. All he could do was secure the Galwei shrine as soon as possible so he'd be available if anyone needed his help.

  -1-

  Galwei Castle Keep, Galwei

  YVE haphazardly ran a polishing cloth over the smooth wood, one eye on the growing shadows. A reminder that her own procrastination would be her undoing if she didn't hurry.

  With a final swipe at the dust on the first bench, she looked around the Order's loft with despair. There were still three more benches to go, plus the decorative woodwork trim around the door. Not to mention the panels across the front of the balcony. Waist-high wood carved with narrow, intricate patterns that collected dust and required painstaking attention to clean.

  In less than two hours, Prince Daen would listen to petitions from his throne in the Great Hall below. Nobles would fill the gallery of raised benches along the far wall and it would be standing room only for everyone else. The monthly gathering was always crowded with claimants and curiosity-seekers.

  The entire Order would be seated on these benches to observe the proceedings from above. The head of their Order, Kelan Orra would be seated in the center in the front row.

  The Kelan was always perfectly in order. Her steel-grey hair upswept pin-neat, her serviceable gowns pressed, neat and unruffled. Even the silver medallion that denoted her leadership of the Order of the Temple of the Moon Goddess always gleamed as if freshly polished.

  No doubt she'd notice the slapdash job Yve had done.

  As if summoned by Yve's rambling thoughts, the Kelan's voice floated into the room. Seconds later, the woman herself entered the Hall flanked by the prince and a tall stranger.

  Yve ducked down behind the balustrade, her heart hammering. She considered trying to get to the doorway at the back of the loft. She might make it without someone noticing her, but it would be risky.

  Curiosity was her continuing downfall, though. Even when she knew better, it always trumped her common sense. The brief glimpse she'd had of the unfamiliar man made her think of the champions of old. Strong and fierce, like the warriors in the paintings and tapestries in the Temple. She wanted to find out who he was, at the very least.

  The Hall had been built for a speaker's words to penetrate all corners and it carried the quiet conversation up to her hiding spot.

  "Lord Maddyn, I'd like to say it's good to see you again, but I have a feeling this isn't a social call," Daen greeted the stranger with reserved welcome.

  Startled by the name, Yve risked peeking through the thin carving by her ear.

  Prince Daen's handsome, dark-eyed seriousness was always a topic whispered about with giggles and sighs by the younger maids in the Keep. And by a few of the younger Seryts in the Temple as well. But Yve had never seen why they all were so fussed.

  The tall and broad-shouldered stranger drew her attention and held it
in a way no one else ever had, though. She began to understand how someone could swoon over someone they didn't even know. And yet, there was something familiar about him.

  His long, pale hair pulled into the intricate braid of a warrior from the Thousand Tribes. He even wore the embroidered fighting leathers popular among the Milesan Isles.

  Though she couldn't quite make out the color, Yve had no doubt they'd be clear blue, like the legend from the songs. If he wasn't the Maddyn from the sagas, he certainly looked the part.

  Yve shivered a little, but fascination outweighed any apprehension she should probably feel in the presence of a Milesan. Especially one who's Attribute was as unusual and chilling as the one Maddyn of Alwyn purportedly shared with his brothers.

  "We have reason to believe the sorcerer Hafgan will be looking for a new source of magic to supplement his power."

  The prince snarled, and Yve shivered at his reaction. She vaguely recognized the name as an advisor in Marnak, but she'd never heard anyone accuse him of sorcery. And she'd never seen the prince look so furious.

  "He needs access to another site of power," Maddyn continued. "Caerwyn and Lia have been digging through every resource they have looking for ancient shrines he might attempt to despoil. They believe a Circle in or near your capital is in danger of being usurped by Hafgan or one of his minions. It's only a matter of time before he has Tresk find a pretense to send his army to invade Galwei and wrest control of it."

  Yve pressed her hand to her lips to hold back the gasp trying to escape.

  "There are no Circles here," Daen said, voice level despite the anger still darkening his expression. "As far as I know, there are no Circles anywhere in Galwei."

  "Are there any ruins? Or rumors that hint there might have been one in some farmer's field?" Lord Maddyn demanded, frustration edging his voice.