Maig's Hand

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Maig's Hand Page 32

by Phillip Henderson


  At the end of the western promenade, the soldiers stationed at the city’s main gate cleared the way and then formed the usual honour guard at the mouth of the gate. A horn blew a fanfare from the parapets, letting the city know that a royal person was leaving Illandia.

  “The gods protect you, Miladies, Milords, and deliver you back to us safely,” the captain called out, before drawing a fist to his chest in salute and offering a deep bow.

  “Thank you Mr Brown.”

  The entourage passed into the shadow of the gate tunnel and out into the bright sunlight beyond. Eager to pickup the pace, Danielle glanced back at Michael and Sir Frankston, gave a small nod and then urged her horse to a half canter.

  At the top of a wooded hillock a mile from Illandia’s stonewalls, Danielle breathed in the fresh air and took one last glance back over her shoulder before her home disappeared from view and her thoughts turned to Amthenium and the week ahead at the Grand Assembly of realms.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Kane closed his eyes and calmed his thoughts. He’d just lifted the large blackened pot of tempered water off the fire and placed it on the dirt floor of the hovel, carefully positioning it in the centre of the symbols Lea had painstakingly etched into the dirt floor with a stick. “You sure she can’t sense me?”

  “Just don’t touch the surface of the water.” Lea was preparing their afternoon meal in the cottage’s second room.

  Kane was learning to enjoy using the sight. First there was his escape from the city. Henry, Lea and himself had played out the charade from the safety of the Druid’s subterranean hideaway in the southwestern quarter of the city. They had all stood around a large silvery cauldron in the sacrificial chamber and watched the events unfold on the surface of the water as they controlled their respective host bodies via the sight. The capture of his host on the forested eastern highway had been quite a thrill—even if it had not been exactly as the fates had described it—Henry and Lea’s hosts being butchered of course had not been foreseen and had provoked an argument between Keira and Fren. Though nothing could compare with Danielle’s torment in the prison below the tunnel tower. It had been more than gratifying. By then, he had been taken safely out of the city and was enjoying the hospitality of Lord Cameron’s mountain villa. Standing around a water-filled pot in Henry’s library they had laughed themselves to tears as Danielle had realised she and her friends had been duped.

  The week since then had not been quite so enjoyable. Most of that time had been spent on the run, only just managing to keep one step ahead of Hendrix and his bloody soldiers and dogs. Now he was cooped up in a hovel on the outskirts of one of Lord Henry’s dismal mining villages. The only conciliation was that he had Lea for company and time to learn a great deal more about this wonderful art of seeing and numerous other things. He’d often watch Danielle across the distance to while away the hours, listening to Lea’s sweet voice as she shared her knowledge.

  Now as his sister rode from Illandia’s western gate he could see her good humour reflected on the water. His attempt to kill her protector earlier had obviously failed. Though, in truth, that had been more accident than design. The soldiers had returned to search the village, and he’d almost been captured. With only wards to conceal him from the three soldiers who had entered the hovel with a nasty looking hound, which had sniffed around his feet before urinating on his leg, his fear had ballooned and quickly fuelled his anger. Danielle had become the focal point and he had unwittingly reached out to her. In hindsight, it had all been very strange and wonderfully invigorating—even if he had ultimately failed to hurt her.

  He fingered the handle of his dagger. “You say Keira can reach across the ether and cut a man’s throat?”

  “Put that thought from your mind, my prince. You touch that water with a blade and your sister will sense you like a skilled hunter would sense a herd of Vafusolum elephant in full stampede.”

  He already knew that and it irked him. Danielle clearly had more practice at this than he.

  “So why doesn’t Keira just reach across the ether and kill her?”

  “Were you not listening when I explained this to you?”

  “I was busy between those wonderful thighs of yours. It isn’t exactly a time when a man listens best.”

  Lea entered the room with two plates of what could only be described as meagre fair; bread, salted pork and a little cheese. She kissed him on the cheek and bid him come sit at the small table by the crumbling hearth where there was more light to see by.

  “If Keira tried to reach across the ether and touch one under the watch of the White Ones, as your sister is, they would sense as much and immediately counter her. Wards do not protect us in the ether, and certainly not if we were to approach one such as your sister. It would be like stepping into the direct sight of a skilled archer.”

  Uneasy at hearing this, Kane gave a stiff smile as he sat on a rickety stall and plucked a piece of bread off his plate. He stared over at the pot as he chewed. He remembered Fren’s warning that light always had the better of darkness. He also wondered about his approach a few hours ago. There had only been Danielle and him, their opposing power, wills and emotions, and it had happened by accident. But had he been noticed by anyone else but her?

  Lea reached across the table and laid her hands on his. “Are you alright, Milord?”

  He thought for a moment about telling Lea what had happened then offered a smile and decided to keep his imprudent actions to himself. The girl had been good to him, and he didn’t need to worry her. “I’m fine. Just a little distracted. This bloody anointing ceremony you won’t tell me about”—he knew Lea was under strict instructions from Fren to say nothing on the subject—“and I’m somewhat tired of being cooped up in here or being chased across the countryside, despite the lovely company.” He kissed her hand and watched her blush.

  The initial plan had been for him to remain hidden on the Cameron Estate, and in some comfort. But after the unforeseen events that led to the murder of Lord Henry and Lea’s replicas on the highway, the façade of two funerals was necessary, and it was thought unwise that he should be anywhere near the estate with so many guests in attendance. And he wasn’t allowed near Maig’s Tower, while preparations were being made for his anointing ceremony. Fren had been vague at best, saying that it was the nature of the ritual; the new Hand must arrive with everything already in place. Kane suspected it more likely that she was protecting him from the truth of what was to happen to him there. So, in the interim, they had been forced to move him from village to village and hide him the best they could.

  The village dogs began to bark again, one then two then the whole damned mongrel pack took up the call. The church bell came next, tolling vigorously across the village.

  Kane swore. “Not again.”

  “The Mother protect us,” Lea said with a weary sigh. “You know what to do …”

  Kane shushed her. All he could hear were barking half-breeds and the soft tread of villagers running past the hovel. What he was listening for was the sound of baying hounds and soldiers, a sergeant shouting orders, the clatter of armour and weapons, fists banging on doors.

  A minute passed and still there was nothing of that nature.

  Kane strained to hear what people were saying as they hurried down the dirt path outside.

  “Milord, we should not dally.” Lea tossed her plate into the fire burning on the hearth. It would not do for the soldiers to find two plates on the table when Lea had rented this cottage off the innkeeper as a travelling musician. Her three performances in the tavern’s common room two streets over had more than paid for the rent and easily waylaid the natural suspicion the peasantry had of foreigners who made their way across the border from the Vafusolum Empire and over the mountainous Eastern Highway.

  Kane shushed her again. He couldn’t exactly explain it, but something felt different about the alarm outside, and the lack of any sign of soldiers and hounds added to his curiosity. Then
someone nearby yelled that there was a fire in one of the coalmines.

  Kane relaxed a little. They weren’t going to have to weather another search after all. He said as much and then frowned as Lea ignored him and went over to the steaming pot of water and cast a white powder over its surface before stirring it in with a wooden spoon. There was an urgency in her actions that puzzled him. The danger had passed as far as he could tell. She clearly did not agree.

  Kane watched her as he sat back down at the table to continue with his meal. “Something wrong?”

  Lea ignored him again. She was staring intently into the water, the lantern light reflecting in her blonde hair and on the side of her pretty face. Then she said something under her breath and sat back on her haunches. There was anger in her eyes as she looked over at him. “It’s Fren.”

  “And that troubles you, why?”

  “I think you know why, Milord,” she said, her tone accusing.

  Kane had an inkling he knew what this was about. “Is she here?”

  Lea got up abruptly and hauled the pot back to the hearth before kicking out the etching on the dirt floor and pulling on her cape. “We’re leaving. Get your coat on.”

  “Why? Where are we going?”

  “I told you not to reach out to your sister! They know we’re here,” she said briskly.

  A soft knock came at the door. Ordinarily, Kane would have felt rather anxious at that sound. But Lea didn’t look at all concerned as she walked over and threw back the latch. Two men entered. Both wore the rough drab garb typical of the peasantry. Coal dust stained their clothes and on all accounts they could have spent the day labouring in one of Lord Henry’s mines. Except he knew both fellows to be servants of the Cameron household and the Druid Council.

  A few quiet words passed between Mr Gillman and Lea, and then, seeing that the way was clear, they ushered Kane outside and up into the back of a waiting coal wagon. The wagon was empty, though far from clean, and a leather canopy concealed him from view.

  The two men climbed onto the driver’s bench, with Mr Gillman taking the reins.

  “Tell her that I will be there shortly,” Lea said, before hurrying across the dirt road to the stables behind the inn.

  “What’s going on,” Kane asked, as the wagon got under way.

  “Not for us to say, Milord,” Mr Gillman replied, apologetically. Even with his coarse black beard concealing much of his face he looked more than a little troubled.

  “So where are you taking me?”

  “Lord Cameron’s estate, Milord.”

  “What if we are stopped?”

  “Wards, Milord,” Gillman said, glancing over his shoulder. “Our Priestess placed them upon the wagon before sending us to get you. You’re quite safe. If we are stopped no one will see you. But we have to move, because they don’t last very long.”

  Kane glanced out of the back of the wagon and saw that they were turning onto the small dirt track that led back through the woods to the highway half a mile away. Last he’d come this way the trees had been little more than ominous shadows in the early morning fog. But despite the lack of visibility, years of hunting in these mountains and valleys had made him familiar with the terrain. The Cameron Estate was only half an hour away—but what lay between, that was the problem.

  There was no one about as they turned onto the rutted dirt highway, which was a small relief. Though, in truth, it was those he could not see who concerned him most. Those he might have provoked by approaching Danielle.

  Thick forest crowded in on both sides of these lower reaches of the highway, allowing the sun to shaft down through the boughs and leaving the air thick with the smell of pine oil. Something felt wrong, very wrong.

  “Let’s not dally,” Kane said.

  Mr Gillman put the whip to the horses’ backs, urging them up the incline. Kane held on as the wagon jerked along the rutted highway. He was watching the road behind through the thin dust cloud the wheels of the wagon and the horses were kicking up, waiting for Lea to catch up. He’d feel better with her in company. When she rounded a bend behind them a few minutes later and galloped past without so much as a word or a glance he was a little surprised, to say nothing of disappointed. Though on thinking about it, he guessed she was concentrating on his safety by keeping up her facade as a travelling musician.

  It wasn’t long before Mr Gillman turned the wagon off the highway and drew up in front of a stone archway. The stones were moss covered, weathered by the years and half lost in the undergrowth of the forest. Lea had dismounted and was struggling to open the bolt on the rusted gate. Mr Julian jumped down to help and soon they were bumping down an over-grown track, if you could call it that. Branches and vines scraped down the side of the wagon and the sunlight barely penetrated the branches above. Kane guessed this was a seldom-used back entrance to the Cameron manor house.

  His more pressing thoughts were on what Fren was going to say about his misdemeanour. She clearly knew what he’d done and wasn’t pleased; Lea’s response had told him that much. Part of him felt rather annoyed. Besides, thinking of Fren, made him think of this damned anointing ceremony, and that only served to make him peevish.

  Mr Gillman drew the horses up. “We’re here, Milord.”

  Kane jumped down and immediately frowned. Rather than the manor house, or even a stabling yard, they were in a rocky clearing in front of the entrance to a disused coal mine. Several dilapidated and rotting buildings stood half buried in undergrowth. The largest had likely been a storehouse for three broken wagons were rotting in the long grass in front of a stone-loading bay.

  “You bloody fool!”

  Kane turned on his heels to find Fren striding out of the mine; her black robe swayed around her legs and her hood was drawn up. To his surprise her fury was aimed at Lea, rather than him.

  Lea bowed timidly. “I didn’t know what he had done, mistress.”

  “You were supposed to be protecting him as much from himself as the Lord Defender’s soldiers and hounds and the searching gaze of the White Druids. His sister saw you both! They know where he is. And our enemies in Illandia are not the only ones who noticed. The White ones are now on to his scent as well. We do not need this, Lea. I do not need to be called away from the preparations. There’s little enough time as it is.”

  Lea nodded, mortified. “I beg the high one’s forgiveness.”

  Fren slapped her across the face. “I should have you whipped for this failure.”

  That was more than Kane was going to tolerate. He grabbed Lea and pulled her away, glaring at Fren. “I think you are being far too harsh. Lea has served me well.”

  “Serviced you well, more likely.”

  “You wrong her …”

  “Your opinion is irrelevant, Kane. You know little of what is going on, and I will thank you to shut up,” Fren snapped at him, before turning her attention on Lea again. “Now, you can get yourself to Amthenium and help Lord Allius, Mason and Keira be rid of Lady de Brie and Lord Cargius.”

  Lea curtseyed, her cheek reddening from where she had been struck. “Yes, mistress.”

  Kane caught her elbow again. “I would prefer she stayed with me.”

  “What you would prefer is irrelevant.”

  Lea eased free of him, bidding him listen to their priestess. There was fear in her eyes as she rose on her toes and kissed his lips.

  Kane squeezed her hand. “You come back to me safe, you hear.”

  She nodded and bit her lip before stepping away from him and dissolving in a flash of green light. Kane watched her wing away over the treetops. It was strange to think, but he’d actually grown fond of her.

  “As for you, I hope you like the dark,” Fren said.

  Kane frowned at her. He thought he’d be going to the Cameron villa.

  “No chance of that,” Fren said with a cold smile—evidently reading his thoughts. “General Hendrix has taken up residence there for the duration of the search and your older brother will arrive in the ne
xt hour. Soon after, these hills will be crawling with soldiers more than it already is. So Mr Gillman is going to take you east through the mines. Under the mountains rather than over them.”

  The broad shouldered servant was already hoisting a pack onto his back.

  Kane liked this not at all. “How long?”

  “If you keep up a good pace, I suspect you’ll see daylight again in three or four days. Now get moving. Soldiers are already on their way to the village.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “I can sense him,” Danielle said quietly as she rode along. They had been in the saddle for hours now, and been quiet for some time.

  Faith was riding along beside her at the head of the entourage. She glanced at her, concerned. “Who?”

  “Cargius.”

  “He’s here?” Faith’s gaze went to the wooded slopes around them.

  “He is.”

  Cargius was calling to her. So far she had ignored him. They weren’t supposed to meet until the last day of the quarterly meeting of the Grand Assembly—which was ten days away, and she really wasn’t interested in seeing him before then. Particularly after what James and she had done before she left Illandia.

  She glanced back over her shoulder at the column of horses and men on the dusty highway behind her. The entourage had slowed to a fast trot. The horses were blowing hard despite the water stop they’d made an hour ago. Their coats glistened with sweat as the sun dipped towards the western horizon. This was the hardest part of the ride to Lowburn, the gruelling climb up through the forested foothills of the Summerset Mountains to the plateau. At least the heat of the afternoon had begun to ebb and there was a slight breeze.

  “What does he want?” Faith asked.

  “I think we should take a short break at the summit, before the ride down to Lowburn.”

  “It’ll be dark in an hour, Dee,” Michael said from behind them. He’d evidently been listening and his concern was understandable, and not just for her. If they stopped again before they reached Lowburn they’d be forced to make the last part of the descent down the winding mountain highway in the dark. And they’d be doing so on tired horses. It was hardly ideal.

 

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