“She is indeed a scholar, but also your friend, I believe. Shred the Veil or she dies, along with your Sentinal. I know you like her. Never dared to tell her though, did you? If you don’t shred the Veil, then the opportunity is lost.” He snapped his fingers. “And the Captain has failed again.”
“Please, don’t do this. She’s not part of this.”
“Of course, she is. You have to make sacrifices such as these,” Ain’uncer indicated the ceiling and then Jerrol. “For the greater good. If you love her, you will stop me hurting her. All you have to do is shred the Veil.” He twisted his hand and the sound of sliding shale and pebbles reverberated through the room, supplemented by a low whimpering.
Taelia’s voice echoed around them. “Hello? Anyone there?” She stumbled on the uneven surface and flinched as her foot slipped into the cold, dark water. “Help me, Lady help me.” She murmured a litany over and over. Crouching, she balanced against the sliding stones and listened intently. Then she slowly turned her back to the water and, rising, began to claw her way up the slope, stones sliding in a clatter around her, her face pale and her eyes wide.
Jerrol stilled, trying to control his panic. “That is just a suggestion; you’re playing mind games.”
“You know better than that, Captain. Mind games don’t seem to work on you, do they?” Ain’uncer sneered. “I hear she leapt at the chance to come and visit the towers. Liliian sent her up while you were off gallivanting wherever it is you’ve been. Chasing the chancellor, wasn’t it?”
Jerrol tried to think, but his mind skittered off in all directions. Lady help us, he prayed, echoing Taelia’s litany. Raised voices, sharp with anger, intruded in the silent room. The sound of men fighting was coming closer. Ain’uncer moved out of sight. “I’ll leave you to think about it, but don’t wait too long. Who knows what could happen to her next? It’s so easy to get disorientated and, I don’t know, fall into the river and drown.”
Jerrol lay staring at the image of Taelia tripping over protrusions, grazing her hands badly enough to bleed. She could walk into one of those low hanging rocks and knock herself out and fall into the water. She hated water; she was afraid of falling in. She had never overcome her fear.
The sound of swords clashing percolated into his brain. Birlerion! He had to escape. A guard shifted behind him. How many guards were left in the room? Just the one? He cleared his throat. “Water,” he croaked.
“You don’t get nothing,” a voice stated from close behind him.
“Please, take pity. I need water,” Jerrol whispered.
The guard moved forward to hear him better. “You agreeing to do what he asks?”
“Silverwood.”
“What?”
“Redwood,” Jerrol paused, racking his memory. “Bluestone, Blackstone.” A muffled exclamation preceded the sound of a body falling to the ground. Jerrol stared up at the image of Taelia as she tried to climb a pile of shifting stones, overbalancing as the shale slid beneath her feet and tumbling back down the incline. The image began to fade. Her face was distraught; tears left a track down her grubby cheeks. She was crying.
“You will obey Captain Haven from now on. You will unstrap Captain Haven from the chair and assist him out of the towers without being seen. You will not sound the alarm. You will show him the entrance to the cavern where the image above us is from. Blackstone,” Jerrol said breathlessly as the guard’s convulsions stilled.
“Captain?” the guard’s voice sounded confused.
“Unstrap me,” Jerrol commanded.
The guard stood. His footsteps were unsteady as he walked around in front of Jerrol. “Captain Haven,” he gasped, his face blanching at the sight of the famous Captain bruised and bloody. He began undoing the leather straps, his face paling even further as he released Jerrol’s blood-soaked right hand. “Sir, I’m so sorry.”
“Not now. Help me up; we’ve got to get out of here,” Jerrol said, trying to rise. The guard helped Jerrol stand, gripping his arm as Jerrol swayed, overcome with dizziness. Using his left hand, he tucked his damaged hand inside his tunic. His face paled and he gritted his teeth as he straightened up.
“Check the hallway,” Jerrol said, gripping the back of the chair with his good hand as he breathed in deeply. The room steadied. He swallowed against the growing nausea and concentrated on getting out.
“All clear, sir. The big man was arranging to leave. He’ll be down in the courtyard.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“No, sir. Somewhere cold. He was complaining.” The guard wrapped an arm around Jerrol’s waist and steered him out of the room.
“Water, give me some of that water first.” Jerrol cleared his throat. His voice was ragged, not working quite right.
The guard scooped a ladle full out of the bucket and offered it to Jerrol. The ghost of a smile passed over Jerrol’s face at the sight of the ladle; useful weapons. He drank deeply and gripped the utensil. “Let’s go.”
They both flinched as a blinding flash lit up the stairway.
“What was that?” Jerrol asked, peering down the stairs. The sound of fighting had stopped.
The guard shrugged. “No idea, sir. We’d better get out while it’s clear.” The guard steered him out of the room and down the stairs.
“What’s your name?” Jerrol asked as they staggered down the stairs, each step jarring through his aching body. His arm burned and sweat trickled down his back.
“Corporal Jenkins, sir. Second battalion, King’s Rangers.”
“Well, Jenkins, see if you can find me a dagger or two. Do you know what they did with my sword?”
“Big man took a liking to it, sir.”
Jerrol sighed. He didn’t seem to be able to hold onto that sword. The Lady would kill him if Guerlaire didn’t get to him first. Everyone seemed to take a liking to his sword. “Is there such a place as that cavern in the image?” he asked as they reached the ground floor and Jenkins leant him against the wall. He stayed there, weak and shivery, even though he was burning up. The hottest part of the fire was his hand, which throbbed against his chest in time with his heart.
Jenkins returned. “Yes, sir, the river flows through caverns under the towers and into the lake on the plateau.”
“Can you take me there?”
“Are you sure, sir? We ought to get you out of here so that someone can fix up your hand.”
“Too late for that. We need to help Taelia.”
Jerrol ignored the sigh and the look Jenkins gave him as if he was some crazy feverish man who was delirious. “You can’t help yourself, sir, let alone anyone else.”
Jerrol gritted his teeth and he pushed himself off the wall. “Take me to the cavern entrance,” he commanded.
“Yes, sir,” Jenkins slipped his arm back around Jerrol’s waist and steered him out of the tower. They hesitated at the sight of the groaning King’s Rangers laid out on the ground. Of Birlerion, Ain’uncer, or Torsion, there was no sign.
Jenkins assisted Jerrol out of the courtyard, round the back of the woodshed, and through a small door set back in the wall. They climbed up the bank into the tree line, Jenkins grunting with the effort of keeping Jerrol upright. “We have to go up to go down,” Jenkins said, leading the way through the moss-barked trees and further up the muddy slope until they rounded a rocky overhang that concealed a dark hole, which immediately sloped down underground.
“Is this the only entrance?” Jerrol asked, shivering uncontrollably as they paused in front of the gaping mouth of the cave.
“There are two that I know of; could be more. The caverns go on forever; easy to get lost, sir.”
“Should have brought a torch. Not thinking straight. Come on.” Jerrol slithered down the slope, balancing his left hand against the ground, gritting his teeth against the spiking pain shooting up his arm. “Listen out for Taelia. They can’t have taken her too far in.”
“Are you sure, sir? This passage is quite straight. She could easily find
her way out again.”
“Only if she found the passage,” Jerrol said. He led the way, feeling the rock as he passed. A slight vibration trembled though the rock and he quickened his pace.
“Go careful, sir. The ceiling dips and we’ll lose the light.”
“She’s just up ahead,” he said to himself, recognizing the sharp metallic tang of water. “Taelia?” he called.
Taelia gasped. “Jerrol? Is that you?”
“Stay where you are. We’re coming.”
“Jerrol? I don’t know where I am, and there’s a river.” Her voice trembled.
“You won’t fall in. I’m here now,” Jerrol soothed as he skirted the water’s edge. “Keep talking,” he said, straining to see her in the gloom as the shale shifted under his feet.
“I don’t remember how I got here. Torsion escorted me to my room last night after you retired, and then I woke up here, and the stones keep sliding, and I can’t find the way out ...” she stopped with a gasp as Jerrol’s hand gripped her arm. She flung herself at him, though she stopped dead in shock as he flinched back from her. He wrapped his left arm around her shoulders and hugged her tight against his side.
“Jerrol? How did you find me?” she asked, her hands fluttering over his face. “You’re feverish, Jerrol. What happened?” He kissed a finger as it passed his mouth.
“I’ll tell you later. We have to leave before they find us. Jenkins? I’ve found her.”
“Yes, sir. I still don’t see why she couldn’t find the way out, sir. We’re hardly past the entrance, and you can still see the light from here.”
Jerrol stumbled against Taelia and hissed through his teeth.
“Jerrol? What’s the matter?” she asked, reaching to help him up. Her hands patted him, hesitating at the heat coming off his body and his arm, which was tucked in his jacket awkwardly.
“Nothing. Let’s get out of here.”
“This way, miss.” Jenkins reached to grab her questing hand and helped her back up the incline, wrapping his arm around both of them to steady Jerrol. “I suggest we move away from the entrance before we rest, sir,” Jenkins suggested. “Just in case they come searching.”
“Good point. They would have come back for Taelia, wouldn’t they?”
Jenkins cleared his throat. “I’m not sure, sir. The big man wasn’t too happy; said she could stay there, but that might just have been talk.”
“Let’s not take the risk. They’ll be searching for me, soon, as well.”
“That’s more likely,” owned Jenkins. “Though you screwed up his plans, so he may not search too hard.”
“What plans?” Jerrol puffed as they staggered up the hill.
Jerrol tried to control erratic progress, between them, they stumbled every other step.
Taelia clung to him. “Jerrol, we have to stop. You’re not alright. What happened?”
“There’s a copse up ahead. It will s-screen us. We’ll s-stop there,” Jerrol stammered.
Jenkins pulled the tightly packed trees apart and guided Taelia through. Her foot caught on the roots and she fell through the screen of greenery. She scrabbled out of the way as Jenkins gently steered Jerrol in and helped prop him up against a tree trunk. He stood staring down at him in concern.
“I’ll find some water,” he said. “Miss, maybe you could take a look at his hand?”
“Don’t leave the trees,” Jerrol slurred over his words and tried again. “The trees will hide us.”
“Jerrol?” Taelia tentatively patted him.
“Don’t.” Jerrol stopped her from pulling out his hand. “Hurts too much.”
She leaned over him. His face was feverishly hot, and she smelt blood. “You’re bleeding. We need to stop the bleeding. Where are you bleeding from, Jerrol?” She shook him and, as he slid towards her, she realized he had passed out.
42
Lady’s copse, Watch Towers
Taelia reached for Jerrol’s arm and pulled his hand out of his jacket. It was hot through the material and swollen. The rough wrappings oozed with moisture; the tang of blood strong. He must have been bleeding the whole time. She looked up as she heard the other man returning.
“Tell me, what happened?”
“The Ascendants chopped off two of his fingers.”
“What?” she gasped in horror, the blood draining from her face. She swallowed, sick to her stomach.
“Yeah, he wouldn’t shred some veil or something. His fingers need cauterising, otherwise the bleeding won’t stop,” he said wisely.
“Do you know how to do it?” she asked, paling even more.
“Me? Well, I could, but I’ll have to hold him down; right painful. You’ll have to do it,” he said, holding out the hollow piece of bark he had filled with water.
She appeared to ignore him and stared down at Jerrol in horror.
“You’ll need the water.”
“Oh,” she exclaimed, turning her face towards him. “Did you manage to find some?”
“Yeah,” he proffered the water. “Here it is.”
She reached out, her hand questing the air a few inches to the right of it. He moved the bark closer to her hand as her face heated. “I can’t see. I’m blind.” Her blood-smeared fingers knocked the bark.
Jenkins almost dropped the water. “What?”
“I’m blind,” she repeated, her questing fingers gripping the bark firmly.
“Well,” he gasped, “he never said.”
Taelia looked down at Jerrol. “He wouldn’t,” she said, her hand unerringly brushing his hair off his sweaty forehead.
“You wouldn’t know unless you were being handed something. You look like you can see him.”
Taelia smiled. “Find some firewood. We’re going to need a fire.” She began ripping up her petticoat into ragged sections. She folded one piece over into a pad and dipped it into the water before gently wiping Jerrol’s face. Jenkins watched her for a moment before turning away to find the makings of a fire.
“I-I c-can’t...” Jerrol stuttered as he came too. Taelia’s hand fluttered over his face and came to rest on his shoulder. She rubbed it gently.
“Hush,” she murmured. “Take a deep breath.” She continued to rub his shoulder.
“Tali?” The anguish in Jerrol’s voice made her heart clench, and she leaned across to hug him.
“It will be alright,” she murmured as he hid his face in her shoulder and took a shuddering breath.
She rocked him as his breathing calmed. He inhaled and relaxed against the tree.
“They only took you because of me,” Jerrol said, stiffening beneath her hands. “I’m no good for anyone.”
Taelia leaned back on her heels. “What are you talking about?”
“Birlerion, Saerille, Serillion, you. When is enough, enough?”
“Jerrol, it’s not your fault. You didn’t cause any of this.”
“Of course, I did. They wouldn’t be dead,” he said bitterly, “if they weren’t helping me.”
“It’s not your fault.” Taelia wanted to shake him but didn’t dare in case she hurt him more. Her stomach stirred queasily at his words. Three Sentinals dead? She caught her breath at the loss of Birlerion; tears welled. To lose such a good person and his poor tree; what would happen to him? And Serillion; she had only just begun to get to know him, but what she knew she had liked. What could have happened? She swallowed; her throat tight. “Look at the people you have saved: King Benedict, Alyssa, Simeon, Lady Miranda, me, to name just a few! This is just your fever talking.”
“You’re better off without me,” he whispered, his anguish tangible in the air between them.
She inhaled sharply. “You don’t mean that.”
“Beautiful Taelia, go back to the Chapterhouse.”
“Where it’s safe?” she snapped. She gripped his shoulder and gave him a slight shake. “This is not just your burden to bear. We all have a part to play; you can’t do this on your own, and nor are you expected too. The Lady wouldn’t d
o that to you.” Her face softened. “Jerrol, let us help you; let me help you. I lo...” she stopped abruptly as she heard Jenkins return with the firewood.
“Awake again, sir? That’s the dandy,” he said as he dropped the wood on the ground. “We’ll have a nice fire in no time.”
“No, the smoke will give us away,” Jerrol whispered.
“Your hand,” Taelia faltered. “The bleeding won’t stop; you’re losing too much blood. We have to cauterize the wounds. It’s the only way to stop you bleeding out,” she continued bravely, reaching for his arm. Jerrol shuddered under her hand, though he didn’t say anything.
Jerrol watched Jenkins build the fire. The ranger kept glancing across at him, the concern clear on his face. Jerrol was sure he didn’t look too good. He certainly didn’t feel well. His gut tightened at the thought of cauterisation and he shuddered as Jenkins lit the fire and shoved the tip of his dagger into the flames.
Taelia had torn up more strips of her petticoat for new bandages and was now unwrapping his bloody hand. He was glad she couldn’t see it. It was a bloody mess. He averted his eyes and gritted his teeth against her gentle probing. No matter how you looked at it, this was not going to be pretty. He stiffened as Jenkins unbuckled his belt.
“Captain?”
Jerrol smiled faintly. “Corporal.”
Jenkins silently proffered his belt and Jerrol swallowed as he took it and got ready to bite down on it. His hand shook, matching the tremble threatening to incapacitate him. Jerrol tried to ignore the pity in the ranger’s eyes and took a deep breath.
Jenkins nodded. “Right. We’ll place the Captain’s hand on that flat stone. I’ll restrain him and you just press the blade across the ends of both those fingers. Feel where they are so you know. Don’t flinch and don’t stop, no matter what. If you do, we’ll only have to do it all over again, and the Captain won’t like that,” Jenkins said firmly.
Taelia gently checked the position of Jerrol’s mutilated fingers. Jerrol couldn’t prevent the tremble under her touch. Taking another deep, steadying breath, he bit down hard on the belt as Jenkins firmly wrapped his arms around his chest, pinning Jerrol’s arms to his sides.
Sentinals Rising: Book Two of the Sentinal series Page 39