Hidden Fire (The FIRE series Book 1)

by Rosemarie Cawkwell

  Riding down into the valley proved easier than they expected. The only men about were working in the fields and didn't look like they wanted to put up a fight. They cowered from the Lord Commander when he told them their master had been arrested for abduction and treason. They seemed cautiously relieved. A woman with two small children begged a word,

  “My lords, I think I know where the missing lady is. My daughter works up at the dower house; since the dowager went on her holidays my girl should have come back to help with the fields but she sent word two week ago to say she weren't permitted.”

  “So?” Alex barked, wanting to get on and find Lizzy. They'd wasted enough time placating frightened commoners.

  “Well, the only reason to keep a lady's maid is if there's a lady at the dower house. I just thought you'd like to know.”

  “Thank you, madam, that is a very useful piece of information,” Lawrence nodded, it was useful information, “Where is the dower house?”

  The woman pointed along the road to the main house, “Keep following it, until you cross the ford then take the first left had road. The house is in a small valley about two miles along that road.”

  “And the land?”

  “Woods mostly, but there's a cleared area all around the house. The dowager has garden parties in the summer, I go up to serve sometimes.”

  “My thanks again, madam, you've been a tremendous help.”

  “Just you remember that, and don't let no harm come to my girl.”

  Lord Summerton promised that the servants would be unmolested, since the estates now belonged to the king. He would interrogate the staff though; they needed names of all the conspirators. The boy didn't know why his brother and father had abducted Lizzy, nor who their conspirators were. The information he'd provided would be enough though and of the whole Mortlake family he would probably be the only one not to hang. They rode on, following the route they had been given, sending scouts ahead, fast, nimble men known as Springers, to spy out the country.

  Following the road down into the valley they soon found and crossed the ford; the river was high and the banks steep, but the mounted troops managed it with more ease than the carriage that had brought Lizzy across almost a fortnight earlier. The road split a hundred yards from the ford. Lord Summerton called a halt before they left the main road, allowing his men and their horses a rest while the Springers ran ahead, spreading out through the woods looking for guards and assessing the lay the land. The first men reported back within the hour.

  “My lords,” The first Springer back panted out as he bowed to Lord Summerton, Alex and Lawrence, “The road runs through a narrow valley, the cliffs on each side are steep and wooded. Once through the valley opens out. There's a stream running though it and woods.” He gulped another breath and continued, “But they're cut back in a large circle. The house is in the middle.”

  “And Lizzy?”

  “We haven’t seen her, I've sent men through the woods to spy out the back of the property, but they won't be back for another hour or two at least.”

  “Rest, we'll give your men another hour, then we move up the road.” Lord Summerton waved the Springer Captain away to rest before turning to the twins, “Well, boys, it looks like we're on the right track, but getting her out is going to be difficult.”

  “Or not.” Alex stood, walking quickly away from his brother and the commander, up, into the tree line where Lizzy waited, mounted and armed with Maron's sword. She was wiping blood off it.

  Chapter 6

  “Elizabeth Fitzroy, if you disappear like that again I will not be happy. You've taken ten years off my life. Look daughter, I have more grey hairs!” King John pulled at his hair.

  “I do apologise father. I'd have come back sooner if I'd been able to.” The king pulled his daughter into his arms in front of the entire court and refused to let her go. She had just returned and was still wearing the clothes she'd been wearing when she was abducted.

  “And the traitor? Lord Summerton has him in his cells I hope.”

  “No father, he doesn't.”

  “Why not? I want that boy to hang.”

  “Too late father, I spit him on his own sword.”

  There was a murmur of surprise around the Great Hall.

  “The idiot didn't actually wear his sword around you?” Duke Michael laughed.

  “Yes, uncle. I don't think he knew about my fondness for edged weaponry. He thought it would subdue me into agreeing to his demands.”

  “What did he demand, daughter?”

  Lizzy blushed, “I'd rather not discuss it here, father.”

  “In that case we shall adjourn to my private quarters and you can tell us the whole story in confidence. Wife, stay and oversee proceedings tonight, won't you, or little Michael can.” He looked at the ten-year-old prince, “Here my boy, do you want to sit on Daddy's throne for a few hours this evening. I must talk to your sister and uncle urgently.”

  The Queen scowled at Lizzy's being referred to as her son's sister, but said nothing.

  “May I really father?” the young prince gazed in wonder at the throne. The king stood and indicated his eldest son should take the place for the evening. He smiled at his son, who climbed into the seat and waved his legs because he was so high off the ground.

  “You look marvellous sat there, dear brother.” Lizzy smiled at her half-brother who blushed at her praise.

  “Yes you do, now keep it warm for me and we'll be back before long.”

  “Yes father.” Prince Michael answer solemnly, before looking down at the gathered courtiers as sternly as a ten-year-old can manage. Lizzy thought him too adorable, but remembered the first time she had met her half-brothers. Lizzy had thought them spoilt brats, their Mother's sons; she had to admit it though, her half-brothers were growing on her. It had only taken six years.

  “Well?”

  “Get me a whisky, I'm going to need it to tell you how I escaped.”

  “Are you getting squeamish Lizzy?”

  “No, uncle, I'm not. But It is rather embarrassing to admit.”

  “Here,” the king passed her a full glass of the potent liquor, “now, tell us everything.”

  Lizzy took a couple of gulps, before proceeding with her narrative.

  “When I arrived at that house, Maron Mortlake made it clear he intended to marry me, and that he planned to keep me at the house until he could force me to marry him.”

  “Good god.”

  “I know, the horrendous man thought he could get away with it. Anyway, I told him it wasn't happening, so he kept me locked in a room until I 'saw sense'. On the day I escaped, I suggested a ride in the woods might induce me to change my mind. He took that to mean, well, take a guess.”

  “Ah, yes, I see.”

  “And while you were out in the woods you took his sword and killed him?” Uncle Michael, Lizzy guessed, had seen where this was going and had decided to avoid any unnecessary pain.

  “Basically.”

  “Did he ...hurt you?” If Mortlake had done her any harm he'd crucify the entire clan.

  “No, he didn't get the chance. He insisted on bringing his guards with us but when we stopped for a picnic he sent them back to the house. I made sure he drank most of the wine and ate most of the food. He got sleepy, I didn't.”

  “And when he was befuddled you dealt with him?”

  “Yes. I believe Lord Summerton is going to hang his body from the Mortlake gates, as a warning to anyone else who commits treason.” Lizzy grinned.

  “How did you know to suggest that day to go for a ride?” Michael was curious, it seemed too much of a coincidence.

  “I just did; I woke up absolutely certain that that day was the day I had to escape.”

  The royal brothers looked at each other, concerned; prescience was condemned as witchcraft by the Curacy. Even if it was hereditary.

  “You mustn't tell anyone that, tell them it was just good luck.”

  “Why?”

  “
Because, people, certain people, will misconstrue it.”

  “How so?”

  “The Queen will be very pleased if she could get you hung as a witch by the Curates.”

  “Don't be daft, there's no such thing as magic.” Lizzy laughed at her uncle's earnest concern. It was ridiculous, nobody believed in that superstitious nonsense anymore, not in Albon at least.

  “The queen believes there is.”

  “But that's just Sumoasti superstition.”

  “The High Curate believes.”

  “Oh good gracious! What nonsense.” Lizzy's bark of a laugh filled the room again.

  “You're probably right, but don't draw attention to yourself, for at least a few months. I don't want any more attempts on your life.”

  “He was too desperate to marry me to kill me.”

  “We have his parents in custody; they've admitted that once you'd married Maron and I'd acknowledged the marriage they planned to kill you.”

  “I suppose it's a good thing that they didn't manage to carry out their plan; I rather like living.”

  “Yes, well, I'm having them hung in the morning. No need for a trial, they've given us a signed confession.”

  “Any idea who else was involved?”

  “I have my suspicions, but nothing I can back up with evidence. The youngest Mortlake, Phillias, came to us with the information we needed to send the rescue party. He saw his father and brother conspiring with two Curates, but he didn't see their faces.”

  “So we know the Curates are involved, but we don't know which ones or who was giving the orders?” Lizzy drained her whisky.

  “Essentially.”

  “What about the Agents?” Lizzy focused on her uncle; her father tried to stay out of their clandestine operations, officially.

  “They've turned up nothing; our agents in the Curates Council and other areas have gone very quiet lately. I'm calling them all in for debriefing meetings.”

  “Anyone who doesn't come very likely can't.”

  “You look worried.”

  “A thought occurs.”

  “Go on.”

  “Uncle, why now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Everything that's happened lately seems to be connected. Why go to the trouble of abducting me? If something has happened to our agents, why now?”

  “They're trying to weaken us?”

  “Who though? Drat it, we need more people.”

  “Yes, Lizzy we do, but people are scared.”

  “Why?”

  “The Curates are threatening the Guilds again, the paper is being harassed, accusations of heresy are being levelled at Progressives in the Commons Moot. Why wouldn't our allies be scared?”

  “The campaign has intensified of late. Even I've noticed that.” King John agreed.

  “It's because the CMM elections are coming up, you know as well as I do, that the general antipathy between the Traditionalist and the Progressives gets nasty every two yours.” Lizzy shrugged.

  “There have been accusations made in the CC that you are supporting Radicals.”

  “Not as far as I'm aware. I didn't know we even had Radicals.”

  “Neither did we, and we don't. It's a game to legitimise their Fundamentalist faction.”

  “Oh dear, it's going to get unpleasant this time ’round isn't it?”

  “It already has; the Mortlakes were the key public supporters of the Fundamentalist Party.”

  “Why did I not know this?” Lizzy looked from her father to her uncle, wondering what else they'd kept from her until now.

  “You were busy with your own projects, and too young to get involved in politics.”

  “Until those politics, which I knew nothing about, tried to kill me. What else aren't you telling me?”

  John leaned back, “Oh so much. But Lizzy, you didn't need to know.”

  “What else?” Lizzy felt her face harden into an angry mask.

  “The Queen is threatening to divorce me and take your brothers to Sumoast.”

  “She can't do that!”

  “It would be difficult, but the High Curate has already agreed to sanction a divorce on the grounds of infidelity.”

  “Who with?”

  “Your mother.”

  “But everyone knows Mother's been in East Marsh for twenty years, even before you married Jocinta.”

  “They're saying it's retrospective and my continued affection for you is evidence that I'm emotionally unfaithful.”

  “But that's nonsense.”

  “I know, I know, but she's using the boys as leverage against me.”

  “So we deal with the Queen and the High Curate in one go.”

  “How?”

  “I'll think of something.” Lizzy left, scowling, and thinking, hard. The queen was almost certainly involved in her abduction, but they needed the evidence to prove it. She certainly wasn't going to let that bitch take her brothers to her barbaric island.

  Chapter 7

  Lizzy laughed quietly to herself as she read the interview in the Rest-day edition of her paper. 'Women in Focus' was her favourite spot in the paper, so far they'd interviewed nuns and guild leaders, fashion icons and novelists, but not the Queen. So far they'd had three invitations to attend palace events and interview Jocinta, as yet Lizzy hadn't accepted. Her father's wife didn't need to know who was behind the Ford Daily.

  “You aren't that funny, Lizzy.” The Duke commented over breakfast.

  “I'm not laughing at myself, I'm imagining the Queen's face when she hears 'Maggie Harford' has interviewed me, but still hasn't agreed to an interview with her.”

  “You're a wicked girl niece, I'm glad it is Jocinta and not me who has angered you.”

  “Oh, auntie, I'm not sure you ever could upset me.” Lizzy smiled at the Umari wife of her uncle, Catherine. After seven years in King's Ford she still carefully enunciated her Albonese; Lizzy found her slightly staid conversation endearing.

  “Only because you know I'd throw you out if you did.”

  Lizzy rolled her eyes at them both and returned to reading the paper and eating her breakfast. The twins barged in to join them at the table, knocking their sister, the youngest Fitzroy, seven-year-old Elenor, as they took their seats.

  “Sorry El, here have another sausage. Father, have you heard, the CC are denouncing the Mortlake's execution.” Alex righted his sister and passed her another sausage. She wrinkled her nose at the stale beer smell on his breath.

  “Are they?” Michael asked, not seeming surprised

  “Yes, we heard it in the Royal Square Sermon.” Lawrence nodded enthusiastically.

  “What were you doing there?” Their step-mother laughed, the family did not attend any services. As she was Umari she wasn't a part of the Faith of the One that almost all the population of Albon professed. Her husband was a confirmed atheist and the children had been allowed to make up their own minds. Little Elenor, who she had raised from almost birth, had started joining her in their household temple to her own gods. The twins and Lizzy followed her husband's convictions.

  “Coming home. Can I have more bacon?”

  “Of course Alexander. Eggs, Lawrence?” The boys were already helping themselves. They weren't boys anymore, Catherine mused, they would come of age soon, like Elizabeth. There was only weeks to go. Catherine was beset with the planning of her Ball; luckily Lizzy's mother was keeping out of the arranging, and Caro was working on a suitable garment though all three despaired of getting Lizzy to wear a ball gown, even for one night.

  “We saw the paper, it caused a bit of a stir, especially when people started reading it during the Sermon.”

  “Bet that upset people.”

  “Only the Curate. Everyone else was pleased for the distraction I think. They had Colvile out on the plinth today.”

  “Really?” Lizzy feigned disinterest, Colvile had once worked for the Queen but had been sent to a Seminary to teach as punishment after an incident several years before; h
e had slandered Lizzy and her father had not been happy. “I didn't know he'd been allowed back in the city.”

  “Michael let him come back a couple of months ago, if he stayed away from Court. I hear he's very bitter about his demotion.”

  “And what was he doing before that?”

  “It's funny you should ask, because I had an interview yesterday with my agent at the Seminary. He tells me Colvile went on pilgrimage six months ago intending to visit all the sites of the Visitation.”

  Lizzy looked at her uncle in confusion, trying to fit together the information he was telling her.

  “He went to the Wine Gate at some point?” Alex put it together before she did.

  “So I understand.”

  “And...do we know when he was in the Southern Hills?” Lizzy skimmed the politics pages for news of the CM elections to cover her embarrassed blush; there's no way a hungover Alex should have worked it out before her.

  “Funnily enough, about the time Phillias Mortlake saw his father and brother talking to two unknown Curates.”

  “How strange that there should be so many unknown Curates in the area, the Lake is only a minor shrine, after all.” Lizzy folded the paper, pretending to give the conversation her full attention finally.

  “Indeed, indeed.” Michael smirked, he knew her game, but it would probably have fooled anyone who didn't know her as well.

  “Perhaps, as a potential witness, we should bring Colvile in for questioning?” Catherine suggested as she finished her toasted crumpets and wiped her elegant hands on a fine cotton napkin. The twins had tucked a couple of those napkins into their shirt collars and were happily stuffing their faces; she really needed to talk to them about table manners.

  “What a marvellous idea, dearest. I've sent the Guard to get him.”

  “So, Palace after breakfast?” Lizzy dropped her napkin on her plate starting to move.

  “Yes, but let’s not rush, I'm sure Colvile can wait a few hours for us. He can use the time to pray for forgiveness, if he's withheld evidence of course.”

  “Can we have a bath at least before we go to the Palace?”