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

by Cas Peace

  “And had you been prescient, you might have averted the whole damned thing!”

  Sullyan flinched at Elias’s tone. Seeing this, he rose abruptly and crossed to her, holding out his hand. Unable to refuse, she took it. He raised her and looked down into her misted eyes. His own had softened considerably in the face of her distress. He placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “Brynne Sullyan, you are truly a remarkable person. I don’t know anyone who could have endured what you did at the hands of that brute Rykan and still go on to beat him in single combat. Oh, it doesn’t matter what weapons you used,” he snapped, cutting across her protest. “You must know that I consider you the finest member of my forces, with the exception of Mathias here, of course, and I acknowledge and appreciate the depth of your loyalty.

  “But you’re still human, Brynne, and we humans are not perfect. Not even you. So stop blaming yourself for what you couldn’t prevent. Forget it! I need you to carry on telling me the things I don’t want to hear, and that’s a royal command. It’s what I pay you for. Do you hear me, Brynne?”

  She was overwhelmed by his praise. “Yes, your Majesty,” she managed.

  He muttered a pithy oath and thoroughly startled her by enfolding her in a huge hug. “Enough ‘your Majesties’!” he growled.

  “By your command,” she weakly replied.

  He grinned and released her. “That’s better. Now, we’ve wasted enough time.” He retreated to the couch and seated himself. “Your suggestion of a meeting with Pharikian is a good one. I imagine he’s not best pleased at the latest turn of events. You are to assure him the raids were nothing to do with us. I hope he knows I would never resort to such tactics. And I agree to your proposal of recompense, although I won’t accept any blame. Offer him what compensation you think reasonable, to show my goodwill. Just don’t bankrupt me! Let me know the outcome of your meeting and we’ll take it from there.

  “Now, enough of these suspicions. I’m not going to let some misguided and murderous bigot deflect me from what I know is right. I’ve been looking forward to this day for too long. What’s the schedule for the inauguration? I hope you’re going to give me a tour of the College before the ceremony!”

  *****

  Rienne spent the morning in the infirmary. She was still full of her news, and the effort of keeping it to herself was beginning to tell. She supposed she was likely to be irrational and to suffer odd moods during the first few months of her pregnancy, and she mustn’t overdo things in this delicate first stage. But she was desperate to tell Sullyan so everyone else could know.

  She nearly told Taran at breakfast that morning, but the Adept seemed preoccupied. She managed to resist the impulse and stick to her resolve that Sullyan should be the first to know. Yet Sullyan remained closeted with Blaine and the King all morning, and the inauguration ceremony was scheduled for mid-afternoon, so there was no chance for Rienne to get her alone.

  Although not a practicing Artesan, Rienne’s strong empathic link with Sullyan guaranteed her a place in the College. She held no rank, as she had no influence over the elements, but she understood on a deep and emotional level how Artesans thought and what they felt. This made her the obvious choice as their dedicated Healer. As such, she would be present at the inauguration. It would be attended mainly by Artesans, although some of the Manor’s non-gifted residents also had permission to watch.

  Once the ceremony was over, there would be an all-company assembly on the parade ground by order of the King. Elias had decided it would be politic to address his forces and announce how he intended to deal with the current situation. By now, courtesy of the men who had escorted the King from Port Loxton, everyone had heard the story of the horse race, and also of the battle in the storm. Unfortunately, these were not the only stories the men from Port Loxton circulated.

  Rienne had heard the odd snippet of gossip, but she was far too busy to take much notice. Besides, rumors concerning Sullyan often circulated the Manor, although never as prolifically as right now. Rienne was used to ignoring them, as was Sullyan. Today, however, she couldn’t seem to avoid them.

  The wound in Denny’s side was narrow but deep and needed frequent draining. His badly broken arm had been set and only needed time to heal, but the puncture wound had become infected. Rienne was flushing it for the second time that morning when she noticed Denny watching her closely. Eventually she put down her soiled cloth and stared him in the eye.

  “What?”

  He smiled charmingly. “Healer Arlen, I believe you’re very friendly with Colonel Sullyan, is that right?”

  Rienne’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. What of it?”

  “And with Captain Elijah?”

  She sighed. “Yes, Lieutenant, we’re all friends here.” She bent once more to his side, reapplying the hot cloth to the angry soreness of his wound. “My life mate Cal, Taran, and I lived together before we came here.”

  Denny raised his brows even as he winced at the pressure of her cloth. “Well, I must say I never realized you Artesans were so liberal.”

  She straightened. “And just what do you mean by that?”

  “It’s only that I’m a little surprised someone like Major Tamsen puts up with competition from someone like Captain Elijah, that’s all. From what I remember of Sullyan when we were training together, I’m amazed she’s encouraged such scandal.”

  “Scandal?” Rienne frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no scandal. There’s no competition, either. Brynne’s in love with Robin, not Taran. I don’t know where you got these nasty ideas from, Lieutenant, but I’ll warn you against repeating them. There’s not a grain of truth in what you’re insinuating, and you ought to think twice before spreading such lies. If Robin Tamsen heard what you just said, you’d find yourself in more trouble than you could handle. And I’ll tell you something else. If I hear any more of that kind of talk in my infirmary, you’ll be out the door so fast you won’t know what’s hit you—infection or no infection. Do I make myself plain, Lieutenant?”

  “Yes, ma’am!” grinned Denny, sounding completely unrepentant. Rienne finished her attentions with rather less than her usual care.

  Taran came into the infirmary some time later, looking for her. The inauguration ceremony was about to start. Blaine had taken the King through the College, and Elias declared himself satisfied with the completed building. All those invited to be present at the inauguration were now assembling.

  Rienne observed Taran as they strolled toward the College. She thought he appeared strained and care-worn, although had she not heard Denny’s distasteful gossip she might have put it down to shock at someone trying to kill the King. Now, however, Denny’s words caused her to wonder.

  “Taran,” she asked, placing a hand on his arm, “are you all right?”

  He gave a guilty start, as if coming out of a shameful reverie. She frowned.

  “I’m fine, Rienne.”

  His hasty reply convinced her otherwise. “Have you heard the rumors going around?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him flush. A dreadful suspicion crept into her mind.

  “What rumors, Rienne? You know what soldiers are like. Any juicy bit of gossip soon becomes fact when different companies get together.” He didn’t meet her eyes as he spoke.

  “Stop it, Taran, I’m not a fool!” she said harshly. He stopped in his tracks, alarmed. “Tell me straight,” she demanded, swinging round to face him, “have you done anything lately to be ashamed of?”

  His flaming face and hurriedly averted eyes confirmed the worst. Her own eyes widened in shock and disbelief. “Oh, Taran, I don’t believe it! How could you?”

  He had the grace to look thoroughly miserable. “I didn’t mean to, Rienne, I just got carried away! But she was so good about it, you know how she is. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, there was all that business with Lady Jinella. I know I treated her badly, but events were moving so fast I just didn’t have
the time to apologize. She would have to be Reen’s niece. That only made it worse! And then I couldn’t stop worrying that Sullyan would tell Robin how I’d let my feelings get the better of me, and I just felt more and more ashamed of myself. Now I can’t even look at him without remembering what an idiot I was, although Sullyan was very calm about the whole thing, she knows how I feel, after all, and only laughed at me once she’d dunked me in the water—”

  “Dunked you?” Rienne stared at him, perplexed. She grabbed his arm. “Taran, I need you to tell me the plain truth. Did you, or did you not, make love to Brynne?”

  “What?” His voice was harsh and he turned pale. “Is that what they’re saying? No, of course I didn’t! I lost control of my emotions, that’s all. How could you even think that of me? You know how much I respect her and Robin. I’d never let either of them down like that! I’m surprised at you, Rienne. I thought you of all people would understand.”

  He wrenched his arm away and turned from her, pain and shock in his eyes. He clearly hadn’t realized the length to which the rumors had gone, and Rienne had no idea what misconception the gossip had sprung from. What would he do when Robin heard it?

  Hearing the truth in his voice, Rienne regretted her words and was thoroughly ashamed for doubting him. She knew him very well, as well as she knew her own life mate, and was aware he could be trusted to a fine degree. She had allowed Denny to put ideas into her head which normally she would have laughed at. Perhaps her condition had rendered her vulnerable to such doubt, but that didn’t absolve her of blame. She shook her head, a tear appearing in the corner of her eye.

  “Oh, Taran, I’m so sorry.” She took his arm again and turned him, seeing distress and misery plain on his face. “Of course you’d never do anything so dreadful. But you were acting so guilty, and I misunderstood… I don’t know what came over me. I only hope you can forgive me.

  “But, Taran, the men from Port Loxton obviously misunderstood too. They have been spreading some very credible-sounding stories about you and Brynne. Some of our own men have been heard repeating them, so it’s only a matter of time before Brynne and Robin hear them too. It would be better if you took Robin aside and told him the truth of it yourself, no matter how awkward you feel. It’ll save unpleasantness later.”

  Taran sighed. “Yes, I know.” Some of the pain left his face, but it was replaced by more embarrassment. Rienne guessed he was seeing himself explaining his shameful conduct to the Major. “I’ll try to do it after the assembly, but I don’t know what the King’s plans are. If he sends Robin’s company out again, I might not get the chance to speak to him before he leaves.”

  “I’m sure you can catch him for a few minutes, Taran. But just in case you can’t, I’ll mention it to Brynne. I need to speak to her anyway, so I’ll make sure she knows what’s going on. Although she might have heard already. Not much escapes her.”

  “You’re right there,” agreed Taran sadly.

  Rienne took his arm in a friendly way and they walked to the College together.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ozella watched as the Manor’s inhabitants filed into the Refectory, the largest room in the College. Elias and Blaine were talking quietly to Bull and Sullyan. Vassa stood close by, and Master Ardoch had also come to watch. Cal was next to Robin, with young Tad hovering at the Major’s side as usual. Captain Dexter was also there, along with most of Sullyan’s company.

  Ozella hadn’t wanted to attend the ceremony, yet to stay away would have drawn unwanted attention, and he already had more of that than he could cope with. He was sick with worry and heartily wished he were elsewhere. He just couldn’t take his mind off his sisters and was frantic for their safety. Parren’s smug, scarred face kept appearing before his eyes. He couldn’t stop his mind constantly replaying the chilling eagerness in the man’s voice as he told Ozella what he must do.

  Ozella would do his best, which wasn’t saying much, but he was already torturing himself by wondering whether his sisters were really still alive. He had no way of knowing, and Parren had told him that if he tried to get a message to his father, he would be responsible for the unspeakable acts of violation the girls would suffer. He trembled as he recalled Parren’s vivid description of that violation, sure the captain was feeding his own disgusting desires.

  Ozella was not only terrified for his sisters. He doubted his own ability to hide his fear from his fellow Artesans and was petrified they would find him out. Parren had assured him he only had to keep his mind closed and his mouth shut to be safe, and Ozella never questioned how the giftless Parren knew this. Ozella had no choice. All he could do was act as normally as possible and await his first instructions.

  Taran and Rienne were the last to arrive, and on seeing them take their places the King called the gathering to order. He stood at the far end of the long Refectory, the sunlight from its windows slanting in to stripe the floor with gold. The seats and tables had all been moved to the sides of the room and everyone stood facing Elias. The King looked round at their expectant faces and smiled.

  “First, my friends, let me thank you all for coming and welcome you to the King’s College of Artesans. You’re here to witness the inauguration of what I hope will be the first of many institutions of its kind. Not only will it serve to nurture and train those just starting out in their craft, but it will also encourage those who are currently unsure or afraid of their innate gifts. In this way, I hope to improve relations between Artesans and those who fear and oppose them.

  “I hope you will all find the atmosphere of the College and the support of your peers valuable as you study, and that it will enable you to develop and grow both as human beings and as Artesans. I must admit, I find the frankness and closeness with which Artesans deal with one another very refreshing, and it is something I wish to foster among all the men of the fighting companies.

  “So, my friends, those are my aims and reasons for establishing this College. All that remains is for me to wish success to every one of its members, and to declare that from this moment, the first King’s College of Artesans is officially open!”

  There was applause from those assembled and a murmuring arose, many commenting on the King’s words and speculating on what the future might hold now that there was a legitimate and supportive center of learning. Ozella noticed that Taran had tears in his eyes, and he wasn’t the only one. The Beraxian wondered if Taran was thinking of his late father, whom he had heard used to be Taran’s mentor. How proud would he have been to see his son a part of this?

  Elias then turned and nodded to Sullyan, who produced a package that had lain unnoticed on the table behind her. Elias smiled his thanks. He cleared his throat and a respectful silence fell.

  “This is a very special occasion and you are all quite remarkable people.” The King smiled, clearly enjoying himself. “I want it to be widely known that I support the Artesan craft, and so I conferred at great length with General Blaine and Colonel Sullyan as to how we could encourage Albia’s people to recognize and follow my example. It was suggested that we adopt the same system as the one identifying members of my forces, namely insignia dedicated to those who are Artesans. Such a system will show our people that Artesans have my full backing and authority. I hope you will wear these symbols with pride.

  “Lord Ozella, will you step forward, please?”

  Ozella nearly fainted with fright. He had kept out of the way at the back of the room, intending to slip away as soon as he could. Hearing his name called so unexpectedly sent a shockwave through his system, and he was suddenly convinced he had been discovered. As they all turned to look at him and he saw the pleased expression on Elias’s face, he realized his mistake. He would have to keep a tighter rein on his reactions from now on, he thought, or he would give himself away. Shakily, he approached his monarch.

  “Lord Ozella,” said Elias, “Colonel Sullyan informs me that your rank is Artesan-Apprentice. It gives me great pleasure to give you this first of the new
emblems, and to declare you a member of the King’s College of Artesans.”

  Elias pinned a gold rank-badge to Ozella’s shirt, and the embarrassed young man stammered awkward thanks as he stepped hastily back. Those around him peered curiously at the badge, which was a narrow bar of gold bisecting the underlying symbol of Elias’s House, the Rovannon sun-circled crown.

  Young Tad was called next, and he received the same badge as Ozella. But then he compounded Ozella’s confusion by not only pledging his loyalty to the College, his King, and his fellow Artesans, but also by according Sullyan, as the highest-ranking Artesan present, the brow-lips-heart salute due her seniority and power. Sullyan, smiling in approval, returned the young lad’s homage, and the assembled men applauded Tad’s achievement and sense of ceremony. Ozella’s face went scarlet with shame.

  As Apprentice-elite, Cal was next. His badge consisted of two bars over the royal symbol. As he returned to Taran and Rienne, having followed Tad’s example and been similarly applauded, Ozella heard him murmur, “A straight bar denotes Earth, then.”

  There were currently no Journeymen, and so Taran, as Adept, was next. His rank-badge consisted of two golden bars in parallel undulating lines, representing his mastery over Water. Like the others, they also overlaid the Rovannon crown. As he fingered his own emblem, Ozella could see how well made and designed the badges were. Taran’s feelings of pride and privilege were plain on his face as he gave Sullyan her due. Ozella saw answering emotion in her and Robin’s eyes, yet Taran seemed to avoid the Major’s gaze.

  Then it was Bull’s turn. The big man’s rank-badge, representing an Adept-elite’s ability to influence Fire, was a straight bar of gold with stylized flames along its upper edge. Robin followed him, his insignia of two flame bars reflecting his mastery over Fire. Mathias Blaine received the same badge. All three men honored the King as well as their Senior Artesan.