by Frank Morin
"Erich, enough! We must go!" Ilse shouted.
On a third floor balcony overlooking the street, Shona stepped to the rail and peered over. Connor ducked, hoping she wouldn't recognize him in the dim light, with his skin darkened. They had to leave, and fast, or Ilse's entire team would be captured.
Footsteps pounded inside the house and the outer doors were thrown open by ten Boulder guards. Captain Rory bellowed, his deep voice echoing into the night.
"Fast Rollers!"
Near the front of the building, Erich broke away from Rory, but his granite strength gave out and his muscles deflated. He sagged in post-powder withdrawal and fell to his knees. Anika rushed to his side and lifted him off the ground, her body strong with granite power. She paused to blow Rory a kiss before retreating.
The Boulders assembled at the bottom of the main steps in front of Captain Rory. Ilse took up a rear guard position facing them.
Connor hissed, "Go! Get out of here!"
Shona cried, "Connor? What are you waiting for? Take them!"
Ilse didn't hesitate, raising earthen barriers between her little team and the Boulders. She then erupted the earth under Connor's feat, tumbling him in the air.
He was relieved she recognized he couldn't leave yet, but his hopes for their escape faded. Lights from two Solas peeled away the darkness, revealing Rory's entire army standing at the ready across Ilse's path of retreat. All of the tertiary affinity teachers stood with them.
Connor landed hard and scrambled to his feet, filled with despair, but unable to help.
Ilse and her team skidded to a halt and tried to run the other way. The army gave chase, and Rory and the Boulders from Lord Nevan's palace intercepted them.
Anika dropped her brother and threw herself at Rory just as fire and water and earth enveloped Ilse in an elemental flood. Dietmar tried closing on the enemy, but a dozen Striders outflanked him and tangled him in nets.
Margrit tried helping Erich to his feet, and she glanced once at Connor, despair in her eyes.
The fight ended almost before it began. Ilse and her team were stripped of power stones and shackled together like cattle. Erich was the last. He staggered to his feet, barely able to stand, but growling threats to the soldiers preparing to chain him.
Rory, who had released granite and returned to normal size, waved the men back and punched Erich in the face, driving him to the ground, unconscious.
"I win." He staggered with exhaustion, but smiled over his fallen opponent until he glanced at Anika in chains. Then his smile faded, replaced by a look of regret.
Connor released granite with difficulty and his skin faded to normal as he drew closer, unable to leave, but filled with despair to see the mighty Grandurians captured. They'd been so close!
Ilse, her face blackened with soot, her uniform disheveled, but her expression calm, met his gaze. "You betrayed us."
Shona arrived before he could think of a way to convince her without also revealing to all the gathered soldiers that he was instead planning to betray their homeland.
"Connor, you outplayed them all!" Shona squealed, throwing herself into his arms and kissing him passionately. She wore only her night dress, and it did little to protect her modesty.
"You need to call me General," he reminded her softly and shuffled farther away from the others, most of whom were discreet enough not to stare at Shona.
Shona didn't seem to care. "You are amazing!" She gave him another passionate kiss and whispered into his ear, "This victory is exactly what we needed. No one can stop us now."
Connor wasn't sure how the capture of Ilse helped Shona directly, but that thought only added another layer of worry. Shona clung to him, and she was quite distracting. She might be planning to enslave him, but she was enthusiastic in her affection. . .when he did exactly what she liked. The thought of spending a life with Shona made him want to go beat Ilse again for pausing in their flight.
No, it wasn't Ilse's fault. It was Rory's. He'd played Connor like a fool, and that betrayal hurt more than anything he'd experienced so far.
Shona tried to kiss him again but he said, "Everyone's watching. And remember the mask? I'm your general."
Shona laughed and whispered into his ear, "I'll call you mine very soon."
He dropped her to the ground. She was just trying to be seductive or something, but she really could have chosen a better time to remind him of their very different standings. He didn't want to be owned. He wanted to be free, to be joined to a woman he loved through a mutual agreement, a partnership of equals.
That was a concept Shona just could not understand.
Jean wrapped Shona in a cloak, meeting Connor's eye behind Shona's back. She was pale with fear, but Connor wasn't sure how to comfort her. The night that had started so well had ended in disaster.
Shona led him back to face Ilse. "You should have run when you had the chance."
For once, he absolutely agreed with Shona.
"Some things are worth the risk." She glared at Connor, "You will regret this night, boy."
"Don't listen to her," Shona said as Connor tried to think of a way to convince Ilse he had acted in good faith. "You're a hero. That tongue of hers could convince the Tallan himself his cause was just."
"Indeed, I think I could," she said with a little smile.
How could she smile when chained and captive and probably soon to be tortured? Even for her, that was a little optimistic.
Rory barked the order to move out. Led by Tomas and Cameron, who gave Connor an apologetic salute, the company headed toward the main Carraig complex.
"Excellent work, Captain," Shona grinned at Rory.
"All part of the plan, my lady." His voice was rougher than usual, his expression stony.
"Keep the prison secure from now on."
"Of course."
Rory turned and followed his troops without even once looking at Connor.
Connor watched him go, fuming. Rory had known he'd try to rescue Anika and had staged the whole thing to draw in Ilse and the rest of the company. He had thought he was taking bold steps toward freedom, but all he accomplished was to cement his position to Shona more tightly than ever.
He was going to have to do something more creative, more unexpected if he wanted to escape the noose closing around him.
Shona gave him a last lingering kiss, then took his face in both of her hands. "You did so well, my Connor. I love you."
She skipped back into the palace, humming to herself.
Jean drew Connor away from the cluster of soldiers and linn workers gathering around the broken front of the palace. "Connor, what happened?"
When he explained, she groaned. "I can't believe Rory would do that to you."
"He got to fight for Anika," Connor said, feeling disgusted. "Just in time to condemn her to die."
"He has to care for her," Jean protested.
"Then he's going to hate himself."
Jean leaned against him. "Oh, Connor, what are we going to do?"
"I don't know, but even if we escape, we can't go to Granadure without Ilse."
"We have to do something."
"I did something tonight," he pointed out. "Didn't actually make things better."
After seeing her back to her room, Connor headed back to his own small room that felt more than ever like a prison cell. He didn't sleep, but spent the night working on the next steps he should take.
He came up with only one idea.
Chapter 62
The next morning, Connor was surprised to learn that a school-wide assembly was scheduled for that afternoon. No one knew exactly why, but talk of a major announcement set the students gossiping and added to his worries. Shona had suggested the capture of Ilse would change things in a big way. He needed to understand more.
And he needed to understand why a friend had betrayed him.
So he went to find Rory.
Just before the lunch hour, Connor tracked Captain Rory down in a private sp
arring court in one of Lord Dail's military supply buildings. Rory was sweating from exertion and Tomas, who was the only other person in the wood-lined, enclosed court looked on the verge of collapse.
When Rory spotted Connor he stepped away from Tomas. "Go get some lunch."
Tomas gave the captain a tired salute and hurried away. He muttered to Connor, "Hope you have a lot of granite. He's in a rare mood to kill today."
"So am I."
Tomas broke into a run.
Connor picked up the hammer Tomas had dropped and tapped some of the normal Alasdair White itching through his system.
Rory wiped sweat from his face and hefted his identical weapon. "Thought I'd see you today."
"We need to talk." Actually, he felt more like yelling.
"Words or hammers?"
"Both."
"Good."
The two of them attacked at the same time and came together with a resounding crash of hammers. Connor unleashed all of the pent-up frustration from the past weeks, all of his worry for Ilse and her company, and all of his anger at Rory's betrayal. He threw every ounce of it at Rory. He struck and struck again, raining blows on his bigger opponent.
Rory matched his every move.
The two of them shifted across the width of the stone-floored practice court and then back again. Sweat sprang out on Connor's face and he tasted the salt of it, felt the sting of it in his eyes, but didn't slow. Even strengthened by granite, his arms began to burn and his hands to ache under the constant heavy pounding, but he didn't relent. His breath came fast and the court smelled of broken stone and sweat and anger.
When he finally began to slow, unable to maintain the intense pace, Rory stepped back, lowered his hammer, and braced hands on knees, panting. "Took me twice as long to work through it all."
"I'll go again if you want." Connor felt empty, stripped of rage and left with only a slow-burning determination.
"That bout served its purpose," Rory said. "You actually fought like you know what you're doing for a change."
"Training is paying off." Connor threw down his hammer and paced away. It was good they had burned through his anger. He needed to think, to move carefully for a change.
"Captain, you lied to me last night."
"A little, but not as much as you lied to me."
He wanted to shout, to deny he'd misled anyone, but the simple words shattered his attempts at justification and scored deep. He had been planning to subvert everything Shona was doing at the Carraig, critically damage her position. The consequences to her could have been disastrous and lifelong. He paced away again to avoid punching Rory in the mouth. He didn't want the captain as an enemy, but there were a lot of things he didn't want and his opinion didn't seem to matter.
"I just wish you hadn't lied about letting her go."
Rory led him to a pair of benches and a bucket of water set against the wall near the door. After ladling a drink for himself he said, "Listen to me, lad. Truth is tough when you're dealing with high lords and politics. Shona sees things one way, but that's not the whole truth. Or the only truth, for that matter."
"And you're going to tell me the truth this time?"
"About last night, yes."
"Why would I believe you?"
"Because it's a truth that matters to me."
Connor drank a ladle full of water, dropped onto a bench, and motioned Rory to continue.
"I did what I did because I had to know."
"Know what?"
"If it was all a lie. Was Anika just playing me, manipulating me the way they like to do, or could she really. . ." He trailed off and shrugged.
"So now you know," Connor said softly. "And knowing cost her everything."
"It sounds worse when you say it like that."
"Doesn't really matter how you say it, does it?"
"Kind of makes pursuing a relationship difficult," Rory sighed.
Connor nearly laughed in Rory's face. How could he consider a relationship with Anika? Not only was she generally terrifying, but they were soldiers in opposing armies. Even if they could get over that, capturing her and locking her away in chains was something he couldn't help her forget by sending some flowers to her cell.
"Captain, let them go."
Rory leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. "I can't."
"I'm here," Connor declared with resignation. "I am Shona's. She has everything she wants, so just let them go."
"I sincerely wish I could, lad, but you're not the only one trapped by your position." Pain shone in his eyes.
"What are we going to do?"
"I don't know." Rory rose and clapped him on the shoulder, his expression grave. "But don't give up. Life may not be what we want, but we can make the best of it. There's always hope."
So much for trying reason. It worked in Alasdair but there, in that isolated location, it was easier to think straight. With all the high nobles clustered around the castle, they muffled clear thinking like wool ear plugs muffled sound.
He'd have to pull the plugs out.
"Captain, I don't think people are going to like my idea of hope."
Rory nodded. "Probably not, but think before you act, lad. You won't get another chance." He retrieved the discarded hammers. "Best get your mask on. You'll be needed at the assembly."
"What's it all about?"
"I don't know everything. All I can say is it's Lady Shona's doing."
She had seen some kind of opportunity immediately and was already moving to secure her new position. Shona was nothing if not focused, and that boded poorly for Ilse and her team. He spent the time walking back to his suite considering various options for responding, but couldn't lay specific plans until he knew more.
When he entered his private rooms, he retrieved the mask and a fresh set of battle leathers. When he returned to the salon with them in hand, he stopped in his tracks.
"Hello, Connor," Ivor said. "I think we need to talk."
Chapter 63
"What are you doing here?" Connor asked, dropping his costume and stepping into the room. He still had a little granite, but all of his tertiary affinity stones were in the pouch on his belt. If Ivor had come to fight, he was in trouble.
Ivor looked more intrigued than angry. He nodded toward the costume. "I can't believe I didn't see it sooner."
"How did you learn?"
"Patience," Ivor said, dropping into one of the overstuffed chairs and selecting a fruit from a silver tray. "Sheigra overheard the entire ruckus over by Nevan's palace last night."
Connor sank onto the couch as his heart sank through his boots. He'd worked so hard to shield his conversations from Pathfinders, but just about everyone had let their guard down the night before. Shona had used his name, as had Jean. Others probably had too.
Ivor leaned forward. "I find it fascinating that you have contacts in Granadure. Were you really betraying them, or did you just botch an attempt to run?"
"It's complicated."
"No doubt," Ivor nodded. "But why run a geall like that when your army is doing so well and when the nation's on the brink of warfare?
"Don't you ever feel trapped?" Connor asked, gesturing around the room. "By all of this?"
Ivor shrugged. "All of this is pretty nice compared to what most get."
"It's still a cage," Connor retorted.
"Life is a cage sometimes," Ivor said. "Look at Shona. Look at the other nobles. They're stuck in cages no bigger than ours. At least we're given a chance to help fashion our futures. How many people get that?"
"It's not enough," Connor said, wishing Ivor could see.
"What else is there?" Ivor asked. "If you push too hard, you'll lose patronage. And even if escaping to Granadure somehow blocks Guardians from turning unclaimed, what then?" At Connor's surprised look, he added, "I told you, Connor. I study everything. I've considered Granadure and the Arishat League. But do you think they'll be any better? Think they'll let you live in peace?"
"
Maybe."
Ivor laughed. "Don't be naive. Here, we get the chance to lead powerful houses and armies of Petralists. There, we'd be forced to fight with nothing but ungifted weaklings at our back. Sure, you might feel free for a few weeks or even months, but then you're dead."
"There may be another way," Connor argued, although Ivor had just voiced many of his own fears. Was there no way to find freedom and peace in the world?
"I haven't found it yet," Ivor said. "But if you have, why are you limiting yourself?"
"In what way am I limiting myself?"
Ivor laughed. "I hardly believed it, but all the little clues add up too perfectly." He saluted. "To think, I'm friends with the Blood of the Tallan."
"Who else knows?" Connor asked. "Has Sheigra told her father?"
"Not yet, but why not?" Ivor sounded honestly puzzled. "Why all the games? Why not reveal the truth? You could have won the contest with ease. Everyone would flock to you instead of trying to beat you down."
"That's part of the problem." Flocking hordes of people would act like living shackles, locking him to Obrion and preventing any chance of ever seeing Verena again.
"Shona wants to own you," Ivor admitted. "On the one hand, she's perhaps the most desirable woman in the kingdom. Her father is one of the most powerful. United to their house, confirmed as Blood of the Tallan, you could live like a king."
"A marauding king," Connor said. "If I embrace that life, they will require that I destroy Granadure and the other nations of the Arishat League and restore Obrioner rule everywhere."
Ivor shook his head. "You're still not seeing straight."
"I've looked at it from every angle." He felt like pounding a fist against the stone walls in frustration.
"Your problem is you don't think like a Petralist. You think like a linn." When Connor motioned him to continue he said, "You need to flip the geall on them."
"How?"
"Reveal your curse."
"Not going to work." He had been hoping Ivor would come up with something unique.
"If she's not good enough for you, get another patron," Ivor said. "Revealing your curse shifts control from her to you. If you reveal what you really are, you break the game more completely than we ever could with our little plots fiddling with the standings. You could define your terms, and if she doesn't like them, I guarantee another noble house will. She couldn't take the risk of not accepting your demands. She would lose everything."