Declan said nothing. He made no attempt to deny or confirm Boots’s conclusion, and his silence on the matter spoke volumes.
“The legend of Hidden Valley has been around since before I was born,” Warlock pointed out. “Have you been building a Scard army for that long? How could you know when the Tide will turn? Even the immortals don’t know that.”
“A Tidewatcher can sense it long before the Tide Lords are even aware of it. Shalimar’s known it was coming back since he was a child and he’s over sixty now. We’ve had plenty of time to prepare.”
The scope of such a plan left Warlock a little breathless. “Shalimar has been planning this since he was a child?”
“Grand schemes are usually constructed on even grander scales,” Hawkes replied. “If we’re to defeat the Tide Lords, if we’re to have any hope of protecting Glaeba from them, we need to think on the same timescales they do.”
“You speak of saving Glaeba. What of the rest of Amyrantha?”
Hawkes shrugged. “Not my concern. The other nations can bow down and worship the Tide Lords when they return or not, as they see fit. I’m only interested in protecting my home. Your home too, coincidentally.”
“You said you worked for the king,” Warlock reminded him. “I’m curious. Does the king know about your Scard army in Hidden Valley?”
“Are you suggesting I’m working behind the king’s back?”
“I’m suggesting that most humans believe the Tide Lords are nothing more than a children’s bedtime story. At best, the characters on a deck of cards. I’m just wondering at King Enteny’s reaction when you told him of your plans to spend a considerable amount of his fortune building a force in the mountains to fight off these mythical creatures, if and when they return. He must have been well convinced if he’s spent the sort of resources it takes to build an army in secret.”
The man’s expression didn’t change. Declan Hawkes wasn’t a man who flinched from much, Warlock decided.
“Let’s just say the king financially supports our endeavours and that it’s not always necessary to burden him with the details of how his money is spent.”
“Siphoning off funds from the royal purse to build an army in secret,” Warlock mused. “That could be considered treason, in some circles, Master Hawkes.”
“In most circles, I would imagine,” Hawkes agreed with a thin smile. “There’s a reason it’s called Hidden Valley, you know.”
“What do you want of me?”
“I’d like you and your friend here to join the rest of your compatriots in Hidden Valley. The Tide’s turning. We’re beyond the notion that it might return. It has returned. Within a few months, the immortals will start to feel confident enough to reveal themselves. We plan to be ready for them.”
“But even if you know where they are, and who they are,” Boots asked, “how do you plan to stop them? They can wield Tide magic. You can’t fight that.”
“We’re not the ignorant fools our forefathers were, just waiting for the immortals to come along and show us the way. They’ve been gone a very long time. We’re smarter now, more capable of defending ourselves against them. And I believe we can, provided we’re prepared for them. Tide magic is elemental. They can’t conjure armies out of thin air and, fortunately for us, they’re usually more interested in fighting each other than their human pawns. We’re nothing to them really—just one of their weapons. Just something else to use in their own, endless, internecine battles. I plan to use that against them.”
“You seriously expect to stop the rise of the Tide Lords?” Warlock said, shaking his head.
“Probably not.” Hawkes shrugged. “Truth is, we may not have to. All we really need do is make taking control of Glaeba more trouble than it’s worth. Let them find easier pickings. It’s my job to protect Glaeba. Don’t much care what happens to the rest of the world.”
Warlock didn’t doubt for a moment that this man was telling the truth. He smelled of quiet confidence, not fear or deception. But the level of trust he was displaying in a couple of stray canines he’d never met until half an hour ago was disturbing.
“I’m curious,” Warlock said. “What will happen to us if we refuse to join your Scard army? With what you’ve told us, I could go to the king and have you arrested for treason and probably receive a hefty reward for my loyalty.”
Hawkes smiled indulgently. “Warlock, you strike me as being an intelligent creature. You can’t seriously believe you have a choice here.”
“Yeah? Well, maybe I’d rather be arrested than sent back to Lebec Palace!” Boots suggested defiantly.
“That’s not the alternative he’s offering, Boots,” Warlock warned softly, not taking his eyes off Declan Hawkes.
Hawkes nodded slowly. “You are a clever dog, aren’t you?”
Boots’s gaze swung between the two of them, aghast, as she realised what Warlock was suggesting. “They’d kill us?”
The man shrugged. “A convicted murderer and a runaway slave who’s already torn the throat out of one feline? I’d get a medal for it.”
He would too, Warlock knew. That was the trouble with being thought of as animals. No human cared about your death the way they grieved for their own. “Will you guarantee our safety if we agree?”
Hawkes shook his head. “I can’t guarantee anything of the sort. You know that.”
Warlock nodded. That answer was more reassuring than having Hawkes make a promise he knew he couldn’t keep. “What would you have us do?”
Boots glared at him. “You’re going to go along with this absurd plan?”
“I’m not ready to die.”
“Good answer,” Hawkes remarked. He turned to Boots with a questioning look. “And what about you? What’s it going to be? Hidden Valley or the opportunity to discover firsthand if Crasii have souls?”
“If I go with Warlock, will I get a chance at that bastard Jaxyn, someday?”
“More than likely,” Declan agreed. “Given he’s heading for Herino as we speak, there’s a good chance we’ll have to deal with him first.”
Slowly, almost reluctantly, Boots nodded. “Guess I’m in, then. I just have one question.”
“I’ll answer it if I can.”
“This Hidden Valley of yours…is the food any good?”
Chapter 71
The day of their departure dawned bright and blustery and brought with it news that sometime during the night, after he’d left her room, Stellan had taken his wife’s advice and asked Jaxyn to accompany them to Herino and remain at court as Lebec’s ambassador while they were in Torlenia.
Arkady learned of the decision at breakfast from Declan, who complimented her on her wise decision to cooperate, as well as her remarkable ability to make her husband see reason. Arkady accepted the compliment distractedly, still thinking about what Stellan had told her last night about Declan’s feelings for her. If he was wasting away from unrequited love, however, he was showing no sign of it at breakfast.
Watching Jaxyn stride confidently up the barge’s gangway, joking with the crew as they manhandled his luggage aboard and generally behaving as if he thought his new position at court was the best thing that had ever happened to him, she began to wonder about the wisdom of suggesting such a thing. Jaxyn’s jovial demeanour worried Arkady. If they had thwarted any plans the immortal had for the Lebec Crasii, why was he so happy to be leaving?
Have I saved Glaeba from the threat of a Tide Lord with a Crasii army at his back, or let loose the fox in the chicken house?
“Are you sure this was a good idea, Declan?” she asked softly, as she and her old friend watched Jaxyn embarking from the upper deck. “The Lord of Temperance doesn’t appear unduly bothered by his removal from Lebec.”
“Could be he’s fairly good at hiding his true feelings.”
“They’re good at everything,” Arkady said.
“Pardon?”
“Something Cayal said—after eight thousand years, you get good at everything.”
“Well, he’d know.”
Arkady didn’t reply but remained at the railing of the upper deck, watching the amphibian Crasii prepare the ship for launch. More a floating palace than a sailing ship, the boat was two decks high above the gunwale and another three below, not including the holds. Painted red and gold, its cabins appointed with a level of luxury even the king envied, the ship would be their home until they reached the coast. On their way south they would stop in Herino long enough to witness Kylia’s marriage to Mathu and then after the wedding they would sail to the coast where the king’s own flagship awaited them, ready to take them south to Torlenia.
Across the bow of the ship was a complicated rigging system that stretched upwards through a forest of ropes and pulleys connecting the ship’s main mast to the harness which currently rested in the water, but which would soon be occupied by the school of twenty-five amphibians—five deep and five abreast—who would tow the ship, riding the current and assisted by the wind. The design was unique to Glaeba, although Arkady had heard it said that the Senestrans were the ones who came up with the idea of towing sailing ships using amphibian Crasii.
She could see a few of them diving into the water near the jetty, ready to take up their position in the harness. Although magically blended with humans in the same way the felines and the canines had been, there was less human and more salamander about the amphibians. They had long tails, hanging down between their oddly proportioned legs, which finished in webbed hands and feet. Their double-lidded eyes were set in dark, shiny faces that seemed more a parody of humanity rather than a member of the same race.
“Do you think he’s free yet?” Arkady asked abruptly.
“Who? Cayal? I suppose that depends on how deep he was buried and how much help Maralyce was willing to give him.”
Arkady glanced at Declan in surprise. She hadn’t mentioned a word about Maralyce.
He smiled. “It wasn’t a hard conclusion to jump to, Arkady. Cayal fled into the mountains and the only refuge he’s likely to find there is with Maralyce.”
“Do you know the location of her mine?”
He shook his head. “Other than a general, rough idea of the area, not really. I was hoping you could fill in the details. Truth be told, finding her isn’t a priority. Maralyce hasn’t moved out of her lair in thousands of years. It would take something fairly spectacular to shift her now, I suspect.”
It was a fair assessment, Arkady thought. Maralyce was quite happy in her isolation and wouldn’t stir out of her mine for anything trivial.
“Will Cayal come back, do you think?”
Declan smiled reassuringly. “We’ll see you’re protected from him.”
“That’s good to know,” she said, fairly sure that if Declan knew what she was thinking he’d brand her a traitor to humanity.
“And what of the Lord of Temperance,” she asked, looking down at the main deck where Jaxyn stood talking with Stellan, who had finally come aboard and was ordering the ship to cast off. “What plans do you have to protect us all from him?”
“You’ll just have to trust me on that, Arkady. Suffice to say there are plans in place and that you need know nothing about them to do what is required of you.”
Arkady looked at him in surprise, and more than a little offended. “You don’t trust me enough to tell me, is that it?”
He smiled apologetically. “As you so rightly pointed out, Cayal may yet return. It would be dangerous to give you information he might find a way to extract from you.”
“Do you expect him to come after me?” Tides, what kind of hopeless fool am I for hoping that he will?
And will your spies be watching me to see if he does?
“Who’s to say?” Declan shrugged. “You may have intrigued him enough to catch his attention for a time, or you may be just another forgotten memory in a long life filled with countless forgotten memories. If I knew that much about the Tide Lords I’d be another step along the way to finding a way to be rid of them.”
“I’m curious, Declan, at your passion for this cause,” she remarked, watching the last of the amphibians slip into the harness and the ropes tossed aboard by the three Crasii remaining on the docks. “What did the immortals ever do to you?”
“It’s a family matter.” He shrugged, as the amphibians took up the slack in the harness and began to pull the great ship from the dock.
“An immortal hurt your family?”
“An immortal is responsible for it,” he told her cryptically. “But it’s nothing you need fret about. You have a royal wedding to attend and Torlenia to prepare for. For the time being you’re safe from the immortals, although if you happen to stumble across Brynden or Kinta while you’re in Torlenia, I’d be grateful if you’d let me know.”
“We have a long road ahead of us, I fear,” she agreed, waving to Stellan when he glanced up at her. She really wanted to yell at him. She wanted to tell him about Jaxyn, warn him away from his lethal charms, but she knew there was no point. So she waved and smiled and pretended she didn’t see the threat, hoping they could think of something before the Tide returned completely and the humans of Amyrantha were lost forever.
“That we do, Arkady,” Declan Hawkes agreed.
“I know you said you know where some of the immortals are, but according to the Tarot there are twenty-two of them, aren’t there?”
“Not all of them wield the sort of power Cayal and Jaxyn are capable of, fortunately,” Declan reminded her. “Some have more nuisance value than they are a threat. There’s one or two who may even be considered reasonable, under the right circumstances.”
“So where are they, Declan?” Arkady asked with a frown, as Jaxyn looked up at her also with a sly, knowing smile.
“What do you mean?”
“The lesser immortals? Do we need to worry about them the way we fear the Tide Lords? Will they try seizing power on their own or will they be allying themselves with the others? Who are they? Where are they? Will they try to stay hidden? Will they help us!”
“That’s what the Cabal is here for,” Declan said. “Because we have to find out.”
Chapter 72
Short engagements were the norm in Glaeba and the crown prince’s betrothal to Lady Kylia Debrell was no exception. Within three weeks of Stellan, Arkady and Jaxyn arriving in Herino, the wedding was over. Being something of a cynic, Jaxyn suspected the custom stemmed from a lack of trust rather than any inherent streak of romanticism or sentimentality in the Glaebans. Once a man had his virgin bride selected, one did their best to get the wedding over and done with while she remained in that condition.
Not that Jaxyn blamed Mathu for wanting Kylia in his bed as soon as he could manage it. She looked breathtaking in her dark blue wedding gown, her face alight with happiness, as she and Mathu danced the night away to the strains of Glaeba’s finest musicians playing songs that were older than any of them realised.
Jaxyn watched the party from the balcony, smiling at Kylia’s obvious delight.
I take my hat off to you, my lady. You accomplished in a couple of months what I hadn’t been able to do in a year.
The ballroom was packed, as one would expect for the wedding of a crown prince. The actual wedding ceremony, conducted earlier today in the throne room with far fewer guests in attendance, had been quite dull by comparison. But the reception, to which anybody with even the slightest pretension to grandeur had managed to wrangle an invitation, was the place to be this stormy evening. Even the Caelish Ambassador—no doubt still smarting over the fact that this wedding put paid to any hopes of a union between Caelum and Glaeba—seemed to be enjoying himself.
Turning his attention from the newlyweds, Jaxyn scanned the crowd, looking for Arkady. He spied her eventually by the food tables, sipping a glass of punch while discussing the Tides knew what with that crafty old bitch, Tilly Ponting, who’d also come to Herino for the wedding. Her hair was blue today, the same shade as her ball gown, a garment with far too man
y frills and flounces for a woman her age. Still, nobody expected Tilly Ponting to set the standard of fashion and good taste in Herino. Not while ever she was able to tell their fortunes.
Jaxyn smiled. There was a future ahead that Tilly Ponting knew nothing of. One she would be hard-pressed to even imagine. What will she do, he wondered, when the Tide Lords of her wretched Tarot begin to come to life?
Arkady leant forward and said something to Tilly that made the old woman laugh. She looked ravishing, as usual, dressed in a deep crimson gown and the Lebec family rubies gracing her long creamy neck.
What is she talking to Tilly about? The wedding? The dresses of the other women? The foolishness of some of the guests who’d drunk too much of the king’s wine?
Cayal, perhaps? Her kidnapping? Or maybe her bleak future in Torlenia?
It had been awkward for Arkady since they’d arrived in the capital. The king was still convinced she was pregnant and insisted on treating her as such, a fact Jaxyn could see irked the duchess no end. There was nothing she could do about it, however. Stellan had decided to keep up the fiction for a little longer, fearing the announcement of a miscarriage might start the king worrying that Arkady was unable to carry a child to term and set him thinking about alternative ways to ensure an heir to Lebec. It was good practice for her, Jaxyn thought spitefully. Arkady and Stellan were leaving for Torlenia in two days’ time and there would be no chance for her, in that restrictive and miserable place, to indulge in her academic pursuits. Torlenian women were rarely even seen in public. She certainly wouldn’t be allowed the same sort of freedom she enjoyed here in Glaeba.
It still irked Jaxyn that he didn’t know what had gone on between Arkady and Cayal while they were in the mountains. Logic told him something must have happened. He knew Cayal well enough to be certain of that. Yet Arkady displayed none of the symptoms of a woman pining for a missing lover, or a shred of guilt over anything she may have done.
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