Jerrol followed the hall around the bend towards the sound of clashing swords, and he quickened his pace. The corridor ended in an open door leading to an opulent bedroom decorated in blues and gold. Aghast, he halted in the doorway as he saw Tagerill fighting with Peverill. Aaron cowered behind him, backed into a corner of the room.
Peverill cursed as Jerrol appeared in the door. He spun and thrust his sword into Aaron’s chest before throwing his cloak around himself and bursting out of the second-storey window. He disappeared, leaving his sword behind.
Tagerill lurched as his opponent vanished and stood swaying in front of Aaron in disbelief.
“Tagerill, are you alright?” Jerrol asked as he pushed passed to kneel beside the Lord of Deepwater.
Aaron gasped desperately for air; his brown eyes frantic. His fingers scrabbled against the plush carpet, but there was no hope for him. The sword thrust had punctured his chest through a lung and out the back. Blood seeped out of him, absorbed by the soft pile of the rug beneath him. His life ebbing away as he struggled.
Jerrol looked down at him. “What didn’t they want you to tell us?” But Aaron was beyond speaking. His shaking hand grabbed Jerrol’s arm and he deliberately stared over his shoulder. Jerrol spun to see what was in his line of sight—a fireplace with a mantel. He glanced back at Aaron, but the panic had faded from his eyes and his stare was fixed. Jerrol closed his eyelids with a gentle sigh.
“Captain?” The tremor in Tagerill’s voice made Jerrol look up. Tagerill collapsed and Jerrol braced as he caught him, easing him to the floor.
“Where are you hurt?” he asked urgently, but Tagerill was unresponsive; his face waxy and pale. Jerrol tugged open Tagerill’s jacket as he found blood and winced at the deep slash across his ribs. He ripped the bottom off his shirt and folded it into a pad, which he slapped against the wound. He called Ari.
Grabbing a sheet from the bed, he struggled to tear it up. He knotted the strips together and tied the pad in place. He searched further, knowing that there was another injury and finding it high on his shoulder. A stab wound, deep and dangerous and bleeding freely. His shirt in shreds, he cursed under his breath as he folded up another pad and held it tight against the wound. Then he eased Tagerill into his lap, his head supported against his chest.
Ari blinked into view. “Find Denirion. Call a healer.”
Help was coming. His men were methodically searching the manor and they would arrive soon. Jerrol bit his lip as a sense of loss fluttered in his stomach. Which bit of ‘no risks’ had Tagerill not understood? No, he calmed himself, the Lady would protect. Tagerill would be fine, and they had a healer here with them. He would be able to heal Tagerill. Birlerion had fully recovered. So would Tagerill.
Jennery and Frenerion arrived south of Deepwater in the pre-dawn. They positioned themselves at the junction of the road, which led up to the mansion by the Lower lake. One of Jerrol’s scouts appeared out of the morning mist and confirmed that most of the guards were asleep in the barracks and the roving patrol had been dealt with. They were awaiting the Captain’s signal that the lady had been retrieved and they would proceed.
There was a chill in the air and that peculiar stillness just before everything begins to stir and wake up. Landis’ men checked their weapons for the final time and waited expectantly. Jennery turned to speak to the Inquisitor, who was hovering by his shoulder. “Not long now,” he murmured. “Keep to the rear. Let the men clear the targets before you approach. Healer Clennin, please stay with the Inquisitor until you are called for.”
Jennery was relieved that Jerrol had thought to request a healer from the king. It wasn’t often you were privileged enough to get one, and although this mission appeared straight forward, you never knew what might happen. Clennin was a newly qualified healer, and his senior had said the experience would be good for him. Experience of battles helped a healer keep his sensitivity to his patient’s needs, or so the senior said.
Jennery sent his scouts out and slowly advanced his men until they could see the Deepwater mansion silhouetted against the early streaks of grey stealing across the night sky. The waiting was always the worst. The night was unnaturally silent, waiting patiently with them.
One of his scouts returned, reporting that the signal was imminent, and a blinding flash of light briefly split the air above the lone sentinal tree. Jennery and his men charged up the road, surrounding the garrison. The resistance was non-existent as the men blearily awoke to sword points at their throats. Jennery looked around the barracks in disgust. The reek of alcohol and the sweet tobacco weed that soldiers favoured permeated the air.
He left his men to round them up and scanned the Deepwater grounds. A couple of pockets of fighting had broken out at the two guard posts, where the sentries were putting up a token resistance, but Jerrol had been right; the guards were sloppy and undisciplined.
As he approached the mansion, a strange Sentinal, who he assumed was Denirion came rushing down the steps, sending the call out for the healer. His eyes lit up in relief as he spotted the healer behind Jennery. Clennin darted forward, gripping his bag as Denirion simply said, “Tagerill,” before spinning back into the doorway, dragging the healer with him.
Jennery’s gut tightened at the sense of urgency driving Denirion, that did not bode well. He joined the men sweeping through the house, pausing at the study door, where a young ranger stood guard.
“Alyssa! What are you doing in here? You should be safe in Denirion’s sentinal. That was the plan.”
“I’m quite safe here. I have my guard on the door, and Denirion is listening in, just in case. Lea, you would not believe what I have found. Aaron was going to strip this Watch bare. His plans are horrifying.”
Jennery grimaced at her persistent use of his first name; he supposed he would have to get used it. His grimace morphed into a grin. He couldn’t help it; she looked quite at home. He tilted his head. “It suits you, my dear. I’ll leave Peppins here to help you.” Decanting Peppins, the Inquisitor, whose nose twitched in delight at the scattered paperwork across the room, Jennery left. He gave a stern warning to the guard on the door to stay alert, just in case.
The rangers herded the servants—discovered in cramped quarters in the basement—into one of the upper reception rooms until Peppins was ready to start his interrogations. Jennery mounted the stairs with a sense of trepidation, peering down corridors and following the sound of muffled voices until he found a concentration of people at the end of the East wing.
Jerrol, minus his jacket, his shirt grimy and hanging in tatters, peered into the brick fireplace. Jennery briefly found the time to wonder how Jerrol had managed to ruin so many of his clothes before he saw the gory sight of Tagerill laid out on the floor, the healer working frantically over him. Aaron’s body was slumped in the corner, ignored.
“Jerrol, what are you doing?” Jennery asked. “How is Tagerill?”
Jerrol grimaced in welcome. “He’s in the best hands. The healer will tell us when he has a chance. Thank the Lady we brought him with us.” He considered the fireplace and ducked under the mantelpiece, carefully feeling around inside until a muffled exclamation preceded him back out. His clothes were now begrimed in soot, a black smudge on his cheek.
Jennery watched him as he unwrapped a small bundle. “Aaron tried to tell me something before he died. But Peverill turned on him and ran him through; he didn’t have a chance. He deliberately stared over at the fireplace. It seems the final betrayal made him want some sort of revenge or something, I guess.” Jerrol looked down at the package in his hands; a familiar notebook and a piece of parchment folded over many times to make it the same size as the notebook. He glanced up at Jennery. “Where did you leave the Inquisitor?”
“With Alyssa. He was rubbing his hands with glee in Aaron’s study. Or I should say in Alyssa’s study. It seems she’s claimed it. I thought the plan was to hide her in Denirion’s sentinal?”
“She wouldn’t go. You know what she’
s like; she wanted claim her Watch, and no one was going to stop her.” Jerrol finished with a grin.
Jennery laughed. “Wouldn’t have her any other way.”
“Let’s join her, then,” Jerrol said as he watched Tagerill being lifted onto a stretcher. His face was far too pale. Clennin had connected a leather bag of fluids and was repeatedly telling the guard holding the bag to keep it up high.
The healer looked across at Jerrol. He rubbed a bloody hand across his face, leaving a smear of red in its path. “Sentinal Frenerion found what’s left of the infirmary. We’ll move him there for now. I have him stabilized, but he has lost a lot of blood.”
Jerrol nodded. “Keep me informed if anything changes,” he said, moving out of the way as the stretcher party left the room. Crouching over Aaron’s body, he gently eased him down on the floor. He rifled through his pockets, which, not surprisingly, were empty, as it looked like he had grabbed the nearest clothes when the alarm had been raised. The Watch ring gleamed on Aaron’s finger, and Jerrol pulled it off. Head bowed, he stared at it before pocketing it. Jennery shook out a bloody towel and lay it over Aaron’s face.
“Move him to wherever we’ve set up the mortuary and send one of the maids up here to clean the room,” Jerrol instructed as he led the way out of the room. He stopped at Fortes’ room. The Ascendant’s body was still slumped in the corner, and he made a mental note to send someone up to move it. He rummaged under the bed and pulled the case back out. It was untouched. He checked the room for any further items of interest, but there was nothing else, so he picked up the case and went down to the study to find Alyssa and Peppins, the King’s Inquisitor.
Peppins was seated opposite Alyssa, writing out a request for more assistants when Jerrol and Jennery arrived. The pile of correspondence and incriminating evidence was growing. Jerrol grinned. Jennery was right. Alyssa did look at home.
Alyssa looked up as they entered and smiled as Jennery crossed the room to stand beside her. Unconsciously, she patted his arm. “How is Tagerill?”
“He is stable, which is all we can ask for at this stage,” Jerrol replied and added to her workload. “I recommend you check out the household staff first; they need to start righting this house as soon as possible. We also have a barrack full of prisoners who need to be fed and watered until we can unspell them.”
Jerrol showed the notebook to an aghast Peppins, explaining how the list of names and keywords were connected and how they controlled people under the Ascendants Mentiserium spell; the spell that he had discovered in Velmouth during his previous clash with Fortes.
Alyssa waved a hand as Denirion hovered in the doorway. “Peppins is going to remain here with Denirion and restore the Watch as much as possible.”
Jerrol nodded. “I understand Clennin will also stay with Tagerill as he is unable to move him yet.” He paused, watching Alyssa and Jennery. “We need to return to Greenswatch this afternoon and inform Lady Olivia of what happened to her son, and then I think we should report to the king and, I suggest, petition him to induct you, Alyssa, as the Deepwater Guardian.”
Alyssa glanced at Jennery. “Denirion and I were discussing it earlier. I would need Lea by my side; do you think the king would release him?”
“Well, I suggest you ask him. Jennery reports to the Lady now, so I expect she would approve.” It seemed they were already way ahead of him.
“Well, the Lady’s word carries all, so that’s what we’ll propose to the king. Denirion has stated that I am his Guardian. I want Lea. We come as a package,” Alyssa said firmly, linking her arm with Jennery’s.
Jerrol’s lips twitched at Jennery’s stoical expression. He hated his name. In fact, he never used Leander, always reverting to Jennery. Alyssa was determined; it was all she would call him. He was fortunate that she had, at least, shortened it.
“Good, that’s what we’ll do. Denirion, we will return Alyssa and Jennery to you as soon as possible. Peppins, whatever you need as you unravel this mess, just send a runner to the king, understand? I will leave the rangers with you. They can help manage the patrols and the prisoners. Jennery, can you find Birlerion and round up Landis and his men to return with us? We were fortunate.” He scowled. “The only serious injury was Tagerill.”
“I need some assistance to unravel this mess as you put it. Could you take my request to the King’s Justice?” Peppins asked.”
Of course.” Jerrol pocketed Peppins’ request for aid and clasped Denirion’s arm in farewell. “We’ll see you soon,” he promised as he indicated for Alyssa to precede him out of the study.
Jennery met her in the courtyard, leading her horse, Firefly, who was none the worse for her unexpected stay in the strange stables.
Before they left, Jerrol visited the infirmary for a final report on Tagerill. He found Healer Clennin well entrenched. He doubted Clennin would be leaving any time soon.
“How is he?” Jerrol asked as he stood at the end of the bed, observing the injured Sentinal. Tagerill’s complexion was still unnaturally pale, though the waxy appearance of his skin had gone, Jerrol was relieved to see.
“No change; early days yet. As long as I can get the fluids into him to replenish his blood loss, I can stabilize him. The shoulder wound is the worst. It’s deep, and we’ll have to watch for infection. He’s lucky it didn’t completely slice any of the tendons, though the damage is bad enough. He’ll have to do some work to regain the full use of his arm.”
Jerrol sucked his breath in, his face scrunching up in sympathy as he nodded. “Do you need me to send anything from Greenswatch?”
Clennin reached for a scrap of paper. “I wrote out a list for you; the top five are the most urgent. There is nothing here, and my field supplies won’t last long. I don’t know how they treated anyone for anything. If Greenswatch can’t supply the rest, I can wait for it to arrive from Old Vespers.”
Jerrol folded the paper over and added it to the parchment in his inner pocket, along with the Deepwater Watch ring. “Consider it done,” he said as he left. It sounded like Alyssa would be gaining a healer as well as a Watch. Clennin had already identified its deficiencies, which was no bad thing.
He returned to the courtyard, taking Zin’talia’s reins from one of the rangers.
“Alyssa will have her work cut out here. The stables are cold and drafty, and the horses are miserable. They haven’t looked after them at all.” Zin’talia’s voice was soft.
Jerrol glanced at the ranger. “The horses need tending. It seems they have been neglected and are in a sorry condition.”
“Yes, sir. Much like everything else. I’ll be staying with a unit. We’ll soon have the stables repaired and the horses looked after.”
“Good, carry on.”
“We’ll soon be back in Vespers. I am sure the king will have got you some treats,” he thought as he mounted. Zin’talia ruminated happily on the promise of some of her favourite snack, Baliweed.
Birlerion hurried across the courtyard with Landis. Their uniforms were filthy and streaked with mud, and Jerrol wondered what they could have been doing. “Captain, I just heard. What news of Tagerill?”
“The healer says he’s stable. We’ll have to leave him here. The healer won’t allow him to be moved. If you want to stay with him, you can. You can meet us in Old Vespers in a couple of days.”
Birlerion hesitated, his face strained and grubby. “I’ll see him if I may. He ought to be transferred to Denirion’s sentinal; it would speed his recovery. I’ll speak to the healer, but I’ll go with you if you can wait.” He hurried into the infirmary.
“Where have you been?” Jerrol asked Landis.
“There was a report of a stash of opiates out by the home lake. We’ve been dragging the waters, and we found quite a supply. Birlerion thought they were manufacturing some of it here; we dismantled a whole distilling system.”
“Make sure the rangers check for any further signs. We need to eradicate all illegal drugs from Deepwater.”
&nb
sp; Landis twisted his lips. There was a lot of land to cover. “Yes, sir.”
13
Greenswatch
At Jerrol’s signal, the cavalcade formed up around him, and Birlerion returned to his position by his shoulder. Jerrol mused over the fact that it had only been a few hours since they had come down this road. He dispatched a rider to Greenswatch and thence on to Old Vespers with the news. He was not looking forward to explaining to Lady Olivia how Aaron had died, though, when it came to it, she surprised him by saying simply: “He lost his way, my poor boy; he is with the Lady now and his transgressions will be forgiven. I think it would have been worse if he had been tried for treason and dragged Stefan’s good name through the mire for no purpose.” Jerrol thought she had been secretly relieved that the uncertainty was over.
One surprise that met them at Greenswatch was the arrival of Captain Bryce from Stoneford. He clattered into the courtyard not long after they arrived. After a brief greeting to Jerrol and Simeon, he strode up to Lady Olivia and gently gathered her into his arms. She burst into tears and he led her away to the privacy of a seat in a sheltered arbour where he very agreeably continued to soothe her shattered nerves. A rather smug Ari appeared and perched on Jerrol’s shoulder, preening himself.
Everyone had a chance to freshen up, even time to shave and change clothes, especially Jerrol who was particularly bedraggled. Some found time to grab a much-needed lunch. Jerrol spent the afternoon closeted with the Healer and Clennin’s list before sending a request off to Old Vespers for medical supplies for Deepwater.
Simeon hosted an impromptu gathering, and they spent the evening discussing Deepwater and how to restore it, and then everyone retired, exhausted.
Jerrol rose early the next morning, eager to get on the road. He collected Birlerion from outside his door and descended the stairs.
Sentinals Rising: Book Two of the Sentinal series Page 10