The Challenge: Circle of Conspiracy Trilogy (Artesans Series Book 4)

by Cas Peace

  He stood up and moved away, assessing the other wounded. Master Ardoch accompanied him, sword drawn.

  Sullyan turned to Taran, who was still supporting Denny’s upper body, pressing the wad of cloth over the injured officer’s side. She smiled faintly at him while running her hands over the mess of Denny’s arm. “You did very well to disperse that storm, Taran. I was very proud of you.”

  He colored. “I couldn’t have done it without your strength.”

  She regarded him narrowly. “Whoever raised that storm was very powerful indeed. Did you get a glimpse of the pattern behind it?”

  He shook his head. “Yours was the only other pattern I saw. But I wasn’t really looking.” He felt shamed, wishing he had paid more attention. But there was no censure in Sullyan’s eyes.

  “This is becoming deadly serious, my friend,” she murmured, staring at him over Denny’s body. “This latest attack was most definitely an attempt on the King’s life, and it very nearly succeeded. Had it not been for Fiann,” her voice choked, “Elias would not have survived.” She shook herself. “But we must concentrate on Denny. Much as I hate to admit it, the Baron is right. We are too exposed here, and we must get Elias to the safety of the Manor before nightfall.”

  Asking Taran to link with her once more, she placed both hands on Denny’s temples and looked hard into his half-closed eyes. Calling his name, she elicited a groaned response.

  “Listen to me, Owyn,” she urged gently. “We can numb your pain and get you fit enough to ride, but we need your help. Do you understand me?”

  Denny groaned again and stirred.

  “Easy, man,” she cautioned, “just lie still. I only need you to look at me and be willing to accept what I tell you. Can you do that?”

  He bit his lip and nodded fractionally. She sighed with relief. “Then open your eyes, Owyn. Open your eyes and look at me.”

  His unfocused, bloodshot gaze settled on her. “Taran, concentrate on his ribs. Numb the pain but do not send him to sleep. We do not want to have to tie him on his horse. Use my power again.”

  Taran reached for the healing amber essence of her metaforce and felt it flood toward him. He could sense Denny’s lambent psyche and directed the flow of energy over the angry hurt deep in Denny’s side. He heard the man gasp as some of his pain eased.

  “Very good, Taran,” approved Sullyan. “Now hold it there while I deal with this arm.”

  Concentrating hard, desperate not to miss anything, Taran watched Sullyan take hold of Denny’s own life force and use it to blunt the pain receptors in his brain. The nerves carrying pain messages from his shattered arm went numb and Denny gasped again. His whole body had been trembling with the effort of not crying out, but he went limp as Sullyan’s work relieved his agony. He passed out and she sat back, drawing a hand over her face.

  She smiled wearily up at Taran. “He will recover shortly. His capacity to bear the pain was overloaded and only needs time to restore itself. We should bind his arm and chest while he is unconscious.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  They made makeshift bandages and a sling from spare shirts and whatever material they could find. Then they propped Denny against a boulder and left him with one of his men watching over him. Sullyan looked for the King and spotted him standing by the fallen bard. Fiann’s cloak was covering his body, and his pony and packhorse were standing near. Elias contemplated the covered form in silence, glancing up as Sullyan approached. He frowned, his gaze directed at her hands, and she realized she was rubbing the inside of her left forearm again. She stopped, but still he stared at her.

  “Are you all right, Brynne? You’re very pale and you look a little… strange. You weren’t injured, were you?”

  “No, your Majesty.” She hesitated. “I have done what I can for the Lieutenant-Major, and he should now be able to complete the journey to the Manor. We are only about four hours away, so I will contact General Blaine and ask him to send a company to meet us, in case there are more raiders in the area.”

  She paused again, looking down at her hands. Elias’s frown deepened. “What is it, Colonel?”

  She raised her eyes, knowing her unshed tears betrayed her distress. “Your Majesty, I have lost a true and loyal friend today.” She ignored the snort given by the Baron, who stood nearby, openly listening. “The last time I saw him, the Lord Fiann asked a boon of me, and it was not something I could refuse.” Elias raised his brows in query and she took a breath. “I realize this is not the best of times, but still I ask your leave to fulfill that promise. As he saved your life at the expense of his own, I am sure you would want to see him honored.”

  “What exactly are you asking for, Colonel?” he said. Reen stirred, but Elias silenced him with a look.

  “Lord Fiann asked me to conduct the rite of his passing, your Majesty. Will you permit me the time to fulfill that task?”

  Reen spluttered a protest before the King could respond. “Oh, really, your Majesty! You can’t even consider granting such a ridiculous request. He was only an outlander. It’s not as if he was human! Does she really expect you, or any of us, to sit around while she conducts some meaningless rite? We’re open and vulnerable here, we should ride on.”

  The shocking attacks on the King, the physical exertions of battle, her own recent less-than-perfect health, and the distracting tingling sensation she was experiencing in her left arm—not to mention Reen’s vile and insulting comments—overthrew Sullyan’s self-control. Unable to stop herself, she exploded. She advanced menacingly on the Baron, who recoiled and threw up his hands.

  “Only an outlander?” she raged. “Meaningless rite? Just because the Lord Fiann was not born in these lands does not make him any less a man, my Lord! His beliefs and customs were as meaningful to him as yours are to you. I would venture to say more so! He showed more courage and humanity today than you could even recognize. He was a friend, my Lord Baron, and a true one. I doubt you even know the meaning of the word! He saved the High King’s life and paid for that courage with his own. He deserves respect for that alone, not that you would understand. He would even have done the same for you, save that I would have prevented him!”

  Her eyes shot sparks and her tone dripped venom. Pale-faced, holding his ribs, Reen retreated before her. Even Denny’s men regarded her with surprise and fear. Taran stood by, his face showing concern, and Master Ardoch was also watching her carefully, his body poised for action. Had the Baron truly understood what she was capable of, he would already be running.

  Elias rose to his feet and approached the two of them. Sullyan still held Reen’s fearful gaze with her own, pinning him like a rabbit before a snake.

  “I see no good reason for your continuing existence upon this earth, my Lord Baron,” she spat, her voice low and threatening, “and I wish the Queen much pleasure of your joyless company! Bide here or ride on; it makes less than no difference to me.”

  She swung away abruptly and his sudden release from her stare caused Reen to stagger. Sullyan came face to face with Elias and halted, the intensity of her anger making her pant.

  Elias regarded them both, and the Baron opened his mouth. Elias held up a hand and he subsided. “First, Baron,” stated Elias, “the Colonel”—he stressed her rank as Reen had not accorded her the courtesy—“fought loyally and bravely to defend us today. I have yet to hear your thanks given to her or any of the men for their efforts in preserving your misbegotten hide.”

  He turned to Sullyan, who was mastering herself with difficulty, shamed by her outburst. “And second, Colonel, you did not need to remind me of Lord Fiann’s sacrifice. It was a deed worthy of much honor and is something I will never forget.”

  He knelt down by the body, gently moving aside the folds of cloak from Fiann’s lifeless but still beautiful face. Placing his hand on the dead man’s brow, Elias murmured something under his breath. Then he stood. Facing Sullyan, he said, “Colonel, you have my leave to conduct your rite and honor the passing of a brave m
an. We will rest here until you are done.” He glared pointedly at the Baron, who wisely chose to hold his peace. “The men will appreciate time to refresh themselves. Will you require any assistance?”

  Sullyan inclined her head, her anger back under control. “I thank you, your Majesty. Taran and I will manage. Lord Fiann would also thank you for this courtesy, were he able.”

  Elias waved a hand and moved away, giving instructions for food and drink to be distributed among the men and arrangements to be made for the dead. Reen stayed where he was, glaring at Sullyan, one hand massaging his ribs, his lips thin and disapproving.

  Sullyan ignored him. “Taran, help me, will you?”

  Master Ardoch came forward too, and she flashed the old swordmaster a grateful smile. Together, he and Taran lifted the Sinnian, who was no great weight, and carried him farther from the makeshift camp. There was a clear patch of grass between some nearby boulders, and there she instructed them to lay the body down. She wrapped the Sinnian’s cloak closely about him and then led over his packhorse. Releasing the bindings on the various musical instruments, she removed their covers. Tears glistened in her eyes as she placed the instruments carefully around the body.

  Fiann’s harp, that wonderfully crafted instrument which had so recently held Taran and an inn full of people enraptured, she placed upright at his head. The guitar she laid on one side of him, and the fiddle she set at his feet. His flute, after holding it lovingly for a few moments, she laid on his breast. Then she knelt by his side and placed her left hand on his brow beneath the covering cloak. She murmured the Sinnian words Fiann had once taught her. Her tears flowed freely now and she made no attempt to stop them.

  Taran and the Master stood silently by while Sullyan bade an emotional farewell to one of her best-loved friends. Then she stood and motioned for the two men to step away. She stayed close to Fiann’s side and slowly raised her arms. As she tilted back her head, she reached through the substrate, calling the element of Fire. It responded to her command and blossomed in the air above the body of the bard. Then she began to sing.

  Her lilting voice soared effortlessly into a sky clear of storm clouds. The men, sitting or standing as they were, ceased their talk to listen, and not one of them broke the silence into which her song ascended.

  As the notes swelled, their tone subtly changed. The song became an anthem of hope, of friendship and renewal. As it did so, lifting their spirits with it, Sullyan called Air, and the wind of her calling blew gently through the strings of the harp. A melodious thrumming joined her song as she brought Fire down upon the body of her friend.

  It was intense yet so exquisitely controlled that the instant it made contact, all wood, cloth, metal, flesh, and bone charred instantly to ash. There was no smell, no charnel odor, only the clean crackle and snap of elemental forces doing their work. Sullyan’s song ended on a pure sustained note, and as its last strains faded, so she extinguished her Fire, using Air to swirl away all trace of the world’s greatest known bard.

  *****

  Taran watched as she lowered her arms and stood there, head bowed and shoulders trembling, emotion coursing through her. He wondered if he should go to her, but it was Ardoch who made the move.

  “That was beautiful, lass,” he murmured, enfolding Sullyan in his arms. “Ye did him proud.”

  Taran came away, leaving her to the Master’s comfort. He crossed to where Denny, now awake, was accepting a drink from one of his men. The young officer’s face was ashen, his lips gray.

  “How are you feeling?” Taran crouched down next to Denny and accepted the hunk of bread and cheese held out to him by a Kingsman. He nodded his thanks. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was.

  Denny gave a pale smile. “I’ve been better.”

  Taran snorted, pleased to hear this spark of humor. “You were nearly very much worse!”

  He had expected a weak retort, but Denny’s attention was elsewhere. Following his gaze, Taran was surprised to see Sullyan once more approaching the King. She was composed, more like her usual self, but still pale. Taran could tell she had something else on her mind, and it was obviously troubling her. Elias watched her from his seat on a granite boulder and regarded her levelly as she kneeled before him.

  “Your Majesty,” she said, “I fear must seek your pardon.”

  Elias frowned, as did Taran. Clearly, this had nothing to do with Fiann’s funeral rite. “What for, Colonel?” the King asked.

  “For failing in my duty. General Blaine trusted me with your safety following the events at Port Loxton and, clearly, I have failed.”

  Taran saw Reen give a nasty smile.

  Elias pursed his lips. “What do you mean, Colonel? You couldn’t have known about the raiders.”

  She raised clear eyes to his. “No. But I was not quick enough to recognize the threat within the storm. It was Captain Elijah who alerted me to its unnatural nature, and it was he who dispelled it, enabling us to defeat the raiders.”

  Taran jumped to his feet. “That’s not strictly true, your Majesty. Yes, I noticed the nature of the storm, but I was powerless to do anything about it until the Colonel lent me her strength.”

  “No, Taran,” she said, a trace of impatience in her voice. “Most of what you did today was your own work. You used far less of my power than you think, my friend.” She held up a hand to forestall his protest. “All I did was give you some confidence. The power you used to deflect the storm was your own. Do I not keep telling you to have more faith in your own abilities? Your Majesty, without Captain Elijah’s invaluable assistance today, the battle might have had a very different outcome.”

  The King gave Taran an appraising look. “Is that so, Colonel? Well, I will bear it in mind. You have our heartfelt thanks, Captain.”

  Taran colored at the King’s praise and stepped back, embarrassed.

  Sullyan continued. “I have just spoken with General Blaine, and he has dispatched a company to meet us. Since they will be on fresh horses, they should be with us in about an hour and a half.”

  Watching her, taking in her pale face and the slight tremor of her body, Elias said, “You have had no refreshment, Colonel. We don’t want you passing out from fatigue on the way. Take a moment to eat before we leave.”

  Taran noted how the mention of food turned her face even paler. “I thank you, your Majesty, but I have something in my pack. We really should leave now. By your gracious consent, I have already delayed us too long.”

  Reen muttered a comment which Elias ignored. “Very well. Mount up, men, and we will continue our journey. Someone help the Lieutenant-Major onto his horse.”

  The effort of mounting his horse wrung a groan from the injured man’s lips, and fresh blood stained the bandages about his ribs. Sullyan nudged Drum alongside him once she was in the saddle. She touched him on the arm, looking into his pain-glazed eyes.

  “Owyn, do you hear me?”

  He nodded. “I’ll be all right,” he said through gritted teeth. “Let’s get on with it.”

  “Taran, stay by him, will you?” The Adept nodded, and Sullyan once more touched Denny’s arm. “Owyn, Taran can lend you strength and numb some of the pain. You only have to let him.”

  Denny managed a grin. “Oh, go ahead, my friend. I don’t enjoy pain so much that I’d want to stop you.”

  The party moved out once more, sadly depleted, wet, and demoralized.

  *****

  Rienne was deeply relieved when Cal returned unharmed from the exercise in Andaryon. She couldn’t help fretting. It was silly, really. She had wholeheartedly backed his decision to take the King’s Oath and was proud of both his desire to do so and his emerging skills as a leader. Yet pride didn’t stop her fearing for him every time he went out. He had been badly injured during Sonten’s siege of Hyecombe, and once he had fully recovered Rienne wanted to keep him that way. Besides, she was now as sure as she could be that her hopes had come to pass, and she needed him safe now more than ever.

 
On learning that Sullyan and Taran were due back that evening, Rienne left the infirmary earlier than normal. She wanted to be in the apartment she shared with Cal when he returned from his duties. Cal was rather surprised to see her when he entered, and raised his brows in query as he accepted the glass of amber liquid she held out to him.

  Smiling up into his velvety brown eyes, framed by outrageously long eyelashes, Rienne reflected on how much he meant to her. They had grown even closer since their marriage, both finding meaning and purpose in the new life they had embraced. Now their lives would change yet again, and Rienne needed to know she had Cal’s full support. They had both agreed the time was right to try for a family, and Rienne had spoken with Sullyan before broaching the subject with Cal, as she didn’t want to jeopardize their position at the Manor.

  Many of the fighting men stationed there were married, but the women all lived in nearby villages. There were no families or young children at the Manor. Goran, the cook, permitted some of the older children to help in the kitchens, but not until they were at least ten years old. Rienne didn’t intend to give up her work as a healer, and needed to know she would not be asked to leave if she and Cal had children. Sullyan had assured her this would not happen, so Cal and Rienne went ahead with their plans.

  Rienne now believed she was expecting their first child. She would ask Sullyan to confirm it for her, as Cal was not yet skilled enough to attempt the probe. Rienne didn’t really need the confirmation, but she couldn’t resist asking for her friend’s reassurance. Besides, it would be a great way to tell her. But first she had to tell Cal.

  He was smiling at her, drinking her in after their time apart. “Come and sit down, love,” she said, indicating a chair. His smile turned to a small frown, but he sat down and sipped his drink.

  Rienne gazed into his dark eyes. “I have something to tell you.” His frown deepened and she smiled. “It’s good news, Cal. Don’t look so worried!” Deliberately teasing him, she said, “Cal Tyler, I have to tell you that your efforts have been rewarded.”