They spent the evening playing card and dice games. Seth and Modo retired early for the night, frustrated at constantly losing to Ria. “How do you keep winning?” Oak asked her once they had left the room.
“Simple,” Ria said with a smile. “I cheat.”
“But how? I have been watching the game closely all evening and saw nothing.”
Ria laughed lightly. “Distraction mainly. You all know that Modo is a cheat. He was cheating at a card game when Tor first met him. You, like everyone else, were spending so much time watching Modo that you did not notice what I was doing. Of course, I also made sure I did not win any of the big hands.”
Oak wasn’t happy with this answer. She was right, he had been paying closer attention to Modo than anyone else, but he had been watching her a lot as well and had seen her do nothing suspicious. No matter how much he badgered her, she refused to tell him her technique, until eventually he gave up and went to his bed to sulk. The others slowly drifted off until Hawk was left alone. They would resume their habit of sleeping during the day and travelling at night once they were back on the road, but for now they all needed to get some rest as they would hopefully be leaving early the next morning.
It was still dark when Patrick realised that he could smell coffee. He tentatively opened his eyes, but could see nothing. He closed them again and waited; his sight would soon return. When he tried again a few minutes later, the moonlight revealed a steaming cup beside his bed. Either Feleen had good timing or she had been replacing it at regular intervals during the night. He sat up, picked it up very carefully, as his sense of touch had not fully returned, and took a sip. He could not taste it. He swore quietly and put the cup back down. Why did his sense of taste always take so long to return? he wondered, as he had done many times in the past.
He swung his legs off the bed and stood up, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. This time he swore loudly, his hands automatically going to the bloody hole in his shirt that the knife had caused. He practically ripped the garment from his body, throwing it to the floor in disgust. He grabbed another one from the wardrobe and was still buttoning it as he left his room in search of his housekeeper, picking the ruined shirt off the floor as he passed it.
He found her in the kitchen, chatting with Mrs Willard as she kneaded some dough. “What is this?” he yelled, throwing the shirt at Feleen before saying a gruff ‘good morning’ to the cook.
“It appears to be a shirt,” Feleen replied, smiling sweetly.
“I know it is a bloody shirt. I was wearing it when you killed me. Why, pray tell, does it have a slice in it that looks like it was made by a knife? I am pretty sure poison does not cause that to happen.”
“You know,” Feleen replied, not even trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, “I think you are right.”
“What happened?” he shouted, slamming his fist on the table.
“Falcon did not trust that the poison had actually killed you so I had to prove it to him.” While Feleen spoke, Mrs Willard poured a fresh cup of coffee and slid it across the table to Patrick, who sank down into a nearby chair.
“Did it not occur to you to remove my shirt first?” he asked, a little more calmly.
“Obviously not,” a voice said from behind them. All three turned to see Hawk walking into the kitchen. “I heard voices, so I thought I would investigate,” he explained.
“Take a seat,” Patrick said amicably. “Did I miss much while I was dead?”
Hawk sat down, refusing Mrs Willard’s offer of coffee. “A little. Feleen told us where The Last Retreat is.”
“Good. Where?”
“Orion.”
Patrick, who had just taken a mouthful of coffee, choked. “Orion? The plague city?” Hawk nodded. “Great. I wish I had stayed dead.”
Chapter 9
They left the next morning at first light, having failed to find anything useful in the library as far as the location of Orion was concerned. Daylight was beginning to fade by the time they reached the mainland, so they decided to rest for a while. Hawk awoke and they made plans to split their party into two. The wagon would be needed by Hawk, so belongings had to be retrieved from the back of it by those who were going with Brodin rather than Tor. There was the expected grumbling about the weight of some of the backpacks, but these were soon drowned out by Patrick and Ria when they realised that they would have to take their turns at cooking.
Brodin’s team had no reason to travel at night, so they opted to sleep where they were and set off in the morning, whereas those going with Tor would keep travelling for a few more hours, until they were too tired to continue.
Except for Sam and Dean, the goodbyes were cheerful. Tor extracted a promise from Brodin that he would do his best to keep Cirren out of trouble and arrangements were made that, should they lose contact with each other, they would meet up again on Patrick’s island in exactly half a year.
Dean took Sam aside, out of earshot from the others. For the first time since being reunited, they both thought their relationship was finally back on track and neither felt happy about being parted.
Dean put his arms around Sam’s shoulders and held her close to him. “Keep in regular contact,” he whispered in her ear. He felt her nod her head against his chest. How long they remained in that position, not speaking, just holding each other, neither of them knew, but Tor’s call that it was time to leave came all too soon. A tear trickled down Dean’s cheek as he kissed the top of Sam’s head before he released her. She too was crying silently as she left his arms and walked up to Thresnine and climbed onto her back. She did not look back as she followed Tor out of the clearing.
Once she was out of sight, Dean approached Hawk, who was still saying his farewells. “You will look after her won’t you?” He sounded like he was pleading.
“You have my word,” the vampire assured him before taking to the air and flying after his departing comrades.
Dean turned to Fajfah, who was standing nearby. “It says a lot when you have to ask a vampire to take care of you girlfriend doesn’t it.” The half-dwarf smiled back at him.
Tor led his group north, towards the Sutton Hills. As Seth was no longer with them, Nosmas drove the cart, for which his horse was grateful. The comments it made to Sam when it observed him getting into the front of the wagon made her chuckle.
They travelled as far as they could that night, eventually stopping when tiredness overcame them. Dawn was still a few hours away, but everyone was too exhausted to continue, so when a suitable resting place was spotted, they set up their camp and settled down for some well earned sleep. Hawk volunteered to keep watch until sunrise, waking Patrick when the first rays of sun could be seen in the distance.
Everyone slept well until hunger roused them. If Sam had dreamt, she could not remember doing so and she had not woken anyone by screaming. The sun indicated that it was past midday, but they decided to remain where they were for a while longer as they would be travelling all through the night.
The journey to the hills was uneventful. As they reached the foothills, Sam received a message from a bird that Brodin and his team had started their journey west towards Jundel province in Emvale. Dean had described Sam, and those she travelled with, in great detail, as well as the route they would be taking, so the feathered creature had easily found them. She asked the bird if it would mind returning to Dean, letting him know they had reached the Sutton Hills and the animal willingly agreed, stating that ‘the human’, anticipating Sam’s request, had already provided details of the direction in which he would be heading.
As they moved further into the hills, Sam became quiet and withdrawn. “Is everything alright?” Patrick asked, noticing the change. Sam was staring ahead of her as though she was in a trance. Patrick had to repeat the question, this time a bit louder, before she responded.
“Sorry,” she said apologetically. “I was lost in my memories. This is the place where Brin shot me.”
Patrick looked
around. “I think you are right.”
Tor, overhearing the conversation, pulled his horse in next to Sam’s. “I should have taken us a different way. I was not thinking.”
“No, it’s okay. We can’t avoid all of the places that remind me of him. Besides, I have moved on. I am with Dean now. At least I will be when we meet up again.”
Birds continued to fly between the two groups, keeping them up to date on each other’s progress. The messages they delivered also contained personal communications between Dean and Sam, but both kept the content to themselves. By the time Tor and his team arrived at Allias’s palace, Sam found she was missing Dean almost as much as she missed Brin which, though painful, she took to be a good sign.
They arrived mid-morning, only to be told that Selene and Tallon were not there, having gone to visit Tallon’s homeland, but Allias assured Tor that they were due back in a few days and invited everyone to stay for as long as they wished. The invitation was gratefully accepted, along with the promise that they could, once again, have complete access to the library so they could look for clues to the location of Orion.
Ria enquired after Torrick who, when he left Eshdon forest along with Liselle and their adopted child, had said he would be taking King Allias up on his offer of employment. Allias confirmed that the three had indeed visited, but had departed to introduce Liselle to Torrick’s family on their farm and planned to stay there for a few months before returning.
Rooms were found for them all and Sam was pleased that she was not given the one she had stayed in last time she had been at the palace; it contained far too many memories of her time with Brin for her to face. After a few hours sleep, the ladies headed to the baths while the men joined Allias in his study and told him about recent events. He had heard of Orion, but had no idea where it could be found; nor could he name anyone who might be able to help.
By unanimous agreement, they decided to continue to sleep during the day and spend the nights in the library. Partly this was so that Hawk wasn’t on his own for the majority of the hours of darkness, but mainly it was because Allias had a group of students from Kinfen staying at the palace. They were visiting as part of an exchange, designed to allow the population of the two countries to understand each other better, and they spent a lot of time in the library, studying Emvale’s history. The only time Tor and his friends were able to do their research in peace was when everyone else was in bed.
Their first night at the palace proved unrewarding and everyone felt dispirited when they eventually left the library in search of their beds. A young maid was in Sam’s room when she arrived and she took the girl by surprise when she walked in.
“My apologies Miss. I thought you had already gone down to breakfast. I was just tidying up.”
“Please, call me Sam,” she instructed and explained to the girl, who introduced herself as Annabel, that she would be sleeping during the day. She decided not to mention Hawk. The girl seemed nervous enough as it was; telling her that there was a vampire loose in the palace would probably drive her to hysterics.
Annabel said she would rearrange the cleaning of the room to fit in with Sam’s schedule and was about to leave the room when Sam called her back. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but you seem anxious about something. Is everything okay?”
Annabel looked at her, her grey eyes wide. She couldn’t be more than fifteen, Sam thought. She hesitated for a moment before assuring Sam that everything was fine, but Sam was not convinced. She watched the girl’s departing back thoughtfully; something was definitely bothering the girl.
She thought no more about it until she awoke that evening, having had a long and, as far as she knew, dreamless sleep. She was contemplating getting out of bed when there was a knock at the door. She called out that her visitor could enter and Annabel walked in, carrying a tray. She placed it on a small table in the middle of the room and Sam could smell coffee and bacon. Suddenly feeling very hungry, Sam jumped out of bed, grabbed a gown that had been placed at the bottom of the bed while she slept, and sat down on a chair next to the table. Annabel looked around the room nervously.
“Is something the matter?” Sam asked. The girl’s nervousness was beginning to worry her. “You can tell me if there is you know.”
“You do not want to be bothered with my problems Miss,” the maid replied, but made no move to leave the room.
“It’s no bother. Take a seat and tell me all about it.” Annabel looked uncertain, so Sam smiled reassuringly at her until she took the seat opposite.
“I am sorry,” Annabel said, a little hesitantly. “It is not you, it is this room. Strange things have been happening here, but when I try to tell anyone about them they do not believe me. They think I am a thief.” She dropped her head sorrowfully, unable to look Sam in the eye.
Sam sipped her coffee. It was still a little too hot to drink, so she placed the cup back on the table. “Tell me everything that has been happening,” she instructed, then began eating.
During the meal, the maid spoke. She talked about jewellery going missing, strange and horrible things being present in the room when she entered, but mysteriously disappearing when someone else went in to investigate. She had never been openly accused of anything, but she had overheard people talking about her and knew what everyone was thinking. By the time she stopped talking, Sam was drinking the last of the coffee. Since becoming pregnant, she was rarely able to stomach the dark brown liquid and made the most of it every time she could, savouring each mouthful.
“I believe you,” Sam started to say, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. Without waiting for a reply, Ria walked in, stopping abruptly when she noticed that Sam was not alone.
“Ria, this is Annabel,” Sam said by way of introduction. “Annabel, this is Ria.” Annabel started to rise, but Ria waved her down, collapsing into a vacant seat next to Sam. “Annabel was just telling me about some strange things that have been happening in this room.” Sam gave Ria a summary, leaving the young woman with a puzzled expression.
“It all sounds very strange.” Ria smiled. “Still, it will give us something to ponder while we are tediously going through more books. It is still light outside and will be for a while yet. What do you feel like doing?”
Sam wanted to take Thresnine for a ride so she could find some local wildlife that would be willing to deliver a message to Dean. Ria said she would join her and departed to get changed into suitable clothing. Annabel left to continue her duties, giving Sam her privacy while she got dressed.
Sam and Ria were discussing what the maid had said when they walked into the stables. Allias’s stable master was there and greeted them warmly. He was not the same man who had held the position last time they had visited Allias and Sam wondered for a moment what had happened to the old one. The new stable master was a pleasant looking man, clean shaven with his hair neatly brushed back. Though approaching middle age, his work with the horses kept his body fit and trim. He seemed friendly enough, but for some reason she could not quite put her finger on, the word smarmy sprang into Sam’s mind.
The two women continued their discussion as they were led to where their horses had been given stalls. “You must be talking about Annabel,” the man said, overhearing their conversation. “I would not listen to her if I were you. I do not know if she has stolen any of the things that have gone missing, but I do know that she is not totally sane. She is either seeing things or is just trying to get attention. Either way, I cannot see her working here for much longer.”
Sam and Ria declined to comment. The stable master had not said anything they had not been expecting to hear. Annabel had already told them that nobody believed her. He helped Sam onto Thresnine’s back, gently squeezing her calf as he did so. Thinking she must have been imagining it, Sam did not react. Ria did, however, when he tried the same move on her. In one fluid motion, she grabbed the man by the hair, pulling his head back far enough to expose his throat, while removing a dagger from her boot with
her other hand. The stable master froze when he felt the cold metal touch his skin.
“I suggest you keep your hands to yourself from now on,” Ria whispered into his ear. He tried to nod, but the movement made the blade dig deeper into his flesh. When Ria released him, his hands instinctively went to his throat, looking for blood. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found none. Without saying another word, he walked out of the stable and headed towards the palace.
Sam and Ria spent a pleasant few hours in the fresh air, returning just before the sun started to set. A young stableboy met them as they rode through the stable doorway and informed them that he would brush down and water the horses for them. He was grinning broadly. “I saw what you did,” he whispered to Ria once she had dismounted. “He is always trying it on with the women. It was good to see him put in his place for once.” He looked around nervously, making sure nobody had overheard him. “You will not tell anyone I said that will you?” Ria laughed and assured him that his secret was safe with her.
Tor met them as they walked into the palace. “Been causing trouble again I hear,” he said in a serious tone, but his eyes were smiling. “The stable master has reported to Allias that you attacked him unprovoked.”
“He touched me inappropriately. I reacted.”
Tor nodded. “I thought it would be something like that. I will let Allias know. Food is still in the dining room. Most of us have already eaten. I will see you in the library later.”
After a quick meal, the ladies decided to bathe and change clothes before heading to the library. Ria was still dressed in her robe when Sam knocked on her door, asking if she could borrow her brush and comb as hers were not in her room.
The night was long and tedious. When they took a break, the two women told everyone all that Annabel had told them, ending with the mysterious disappearance of Sam’s hair utensils.
The Pendant Page 10