by Cas Peace
She ran for the horse lines in the early gray light. Ephan had told her via the substrate that their horses were being saddled, but when she arrived Drum wore only his light bitless bridle. Pushing away the groom carrying her saddle, Sullyan leaped onto Drum and urged the big stud to a canter. She pounded toward the west gate, the three men following as best they could.
The gate stood open and the sentries snapped Sullyan a respectful salute as she flew past them. She was well known from the war against Rykan, and none of the Hierarch’s troops would hinder her without a direct command from Anjer. Followed by the other three, she galloped for the Forest.
Tracking Barrin by the imprint of his psyche, she soon found the site of attack. Barrin threw her a sour look as she slid from Drum but gave her no further attention as his men continued to search the area. There was no sign of Prince Aeyron or the two lords’ sons. There were signs of a great struggle, though, and about fifteen dead men, eleven of whom were Velletian Guard.
Bull and Taran pulled up and dismounted, and Bull knelt to examine one of the dead men. He glanced up at Sullyan. “This one’s human, Colonel.”
Barrin heard him. “Yes, Colonel,” he spat, not bothering to disguise his fury, “so are these others! No markings on any of them, no clues as to who commanded them. Just like last time! But this time, they knew exactly what they were doing, didn’t they? Only four of them dead, as opposed to eleven of ours, and the three highborns taken. That smacks of a well organized ambush, wouldn’t you say? Attack just before dawn, when the sentries are at their weariest thinking their watch nearly over, and before the others are awake. Is that how you would have done it, Colonel?”
Barrin was referring to some of the tactics she had employed against Rykan. She paid no heed to Barrin’s spleen, recognizing the man’s feeling of failure. Thoughts of his predecessor, Torman Vanyr, flashed through her mind. She would have given much to have him here instead of Barrin.
Ignoring the furious Commander, she turned to Bull. “The swordsman who made it back only said that Aeyron had been abducted, not the two lords’ sons. Use your tracking skills, Bull. Follow some of these hoof prints and see if you can locate them. I will do what I can to help you. Taran, with me!”
Without waiting for an answer, she leaped back onto Drum and turned his head toward the Citadel. Taran hastened to obey. He urged his galloping stallion up beside Drum, laying low over the horse’s neck. A smaller party was just leaving the Citadel’s west gate, the Hierarch’s golden mare in their midst. Yet she didn’t aim to intercept them, heading instead toward the northern side of the Citadel.
“Where are we going?” yelled the Adept over the wind of their speed.
“Just ride!” was her barked reply.
*****
Having just come off early watch duty, Parren collected his breakfast from the commons. There was a good chance Rienne Arlen would not have begun her rounds of the infirmary yet, so he should have a clear half-hour to do what he wanted. It didn’t really matter if she came in before he was finished, but he would rather not have her there.
Taking a bite from a hunk of warm bread and following it with sweetened tea, Parren sauntered over to the infirmary. With a satisfied smirk he saw that Healer Arlen wasn’t there. Spotting Lieutenant-Major Denny lying in the bed farthest from the door, he made his way over.
Denny was only just awake, judging by his bleary looks. He was stiffly bandaged to keep his arm immobile and the wound in his side was stitched, so he found it hard to move. When Parren put his half-eaten meal down on the table by his bed, the young officer grunted, “Here, man, do me a favor and help me sit up, will you?”
Parren awkwardly put his arm under Denny’s shoulders to help him sit. Wincing at the pain, his face pale, Denny finally got himself comfortable.
Peevishly he said, “To what do I owe this honor, Captain?”
Parren turned away. “If you’re going to be like that, Lieutenant, I’ll leave you in peace. I thought you might like some company. I thought you’d be bored, shut up in here. Perhaps I was mistaken.”
“All right, all right! I’m sorry.”
Hiding a sly smile, the thin man turned back and perched on the edge of the bed. He picked up his bread and took another bite. “So… how are you feeling?”
Denny looked longingly at the bread. The infirmary had not received its morning meals yet. Seeing this, Parren tore off a chunk and handed it to him.
The young Lieutenant took it with surprise. “Thanks! They don’t give you enough to keep a rat alive in here.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had to spend any time here, myself.” Parren’s tone managed to convey his contempt for those foolish or careless enough to get themselves injured.
Denny’s eyes narrowed, clearly disliking the junior officer’s implied criticism. “Then you’ve either been very lucky or you’ve kept out of the worst of the action!” he snapped.
“I’m definitely leaving,” said Parren, “you’re too prickly.”
Denny closed his eyes and sighed. “I can’t help it. I’m going mad with boredom. Why don’t you tell me what’s been happening lately? Give me some juicy gossip.”
What Parren really wanted was for Denny to give him gossip, but he was happy to relate what he knew of recent events and how the Manor forces had dealt with them. His own version, of course.
Talk inevitably turned to Sullyan, as they had both trained with her at the Manor. Although Denny had heard Sullyan’s tale of the duel with Rykan, he had not heard the full story of the battle to lift the siege at Hyecombe. Needing no encouragement, Parren told him, making much of his own part and managing to imply that Robin had blocked his promotion. Parren was so skilful that he soon had Denny’s sympathy.
“Yes,” mused the Lieutenant, “we heard a bit about that at the capital. But I never realized you had been intentionally blocked by the Major.”
“No?” Parren tried to sound casual. “Well, he’s always been jealous of me. It’s not the first time he’s tried to discredit me or have me dismissed.”
“Really?” Denny’s eyes were wide.
Parren told him of their illicit duel over a year ago, twisting the tale so thoroughly that Robin came out as the instigator, tipping Sullyan off in advance so she could catch Parren in the act.
Denny marveled. “You were lucky not to get hauled before a martial court for that.”
Parren nodded. “Fortunately, Colonel Vassa saw through their spite. He knows what a good field officer I am, and he persuaded the General not to proceed with it. Sullyan was so angry that she did this.” He indicated his face. “It was her own form of law, she said. She made sure I was unarmed first, though.”
Denny whistled. “She really did that?”
“She also had my loyal Sergeant and Corporal transferred away. I don’t know why you’re so surprised, Lieutenant. She’s been biding her time all these years, just waiting for a chance to pay me back for trying it on with her when we were in training. Although, if you remember, she encouraged me in the first place. It was a mean trick to play on a man, letting him think she wanted it and then turning on him.”
Denny frowned. “That’s not the way I heard it.”
Parren shook his head. He would have to twist the facts yet again. He had never made a secret of how badly he wanted to lie with Sullyan, and had been mortified when Sullyan publicly refused to accept him. Now was his chance to pay her back for all the humiliation she had forced upon him.
“No,” he agreed curtly, “I don’t expect it was! She very cunningly put it about that I’d tried to force her. And, of course, everyone believed her. They had no reason to, it’s not as if I’d ever done something like that before. I never had any trouble getting women into bed, so why should I have turned nasty on her? But her dammed lapdog, Hal Bullen, backed her up as usual, and Blaine believed them.”
Parren spat on the floor, careless of the junior healers. They stared at him with dislike but didn’t have the rank to re
buke him. Eyes gleaming with righteous indignation, he said, “She hasn’t changed. You had a lucky escape when she turned you down. But there have been others, you know. This Taran Elijah isn’t the first, and he won’t be the last. You mark my words.”
Denny gaped at him. “Are you sure about this? There have always been rumors and stories about her, but I always thought she was above all that.” Parren snorted and Denny shook his head. “Why does her company follow her so loyally if there’s been all this scandal? And why does the General put up with it? To hear the officers talk, especially Master Ardoch, you’d think she was some sort of goddess.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” said Parren hastily, realizing he might have gone too far, “there was never any scandal. Blaine would never have stood for that. No, no, she’s far too clever. Only those of us who have eyes to see realized what was going on. As for her company, well, they’re men, aren’t they? If you were getting, what shall we say, privileges from your senior officer, would you broadcast it?”
Denny spluttered breadcrumbs. “What, all of them?”
Parren shrugged. “No, probably not. Who knows? It doesn’t go on at the Manor, but out on patrol? That’s a different story. Think about it. How many men are stationed here? And how many women? Only a handful, most of whom are ancient, barring one or two of the healers. And they’re out of bounds.” He saw Denny’s disbelieving stare. “You doubt what I say? Then believe your own eyes. You saw through her and Taran quickly enough at Port Loxton, didn’t you? They were only there a few days, yet they couldn’t fool you.”
Parren’s flattery worked. Denny’s ego needed boosting after his injury and the bored Lieutenant needed little further encouragement to tell what he had seen and guessed at Port Loxton. It was tenuous enough, as Parren quickly realized, but the fact that it was Baron Reen’s niece who had caught them, and Taran himself who had as good as admitted that he and Sullyan were lovers—although Parren knew perfectly well what Taran had really meant—all added weight to the rumors.
When Denny fell silent, the Captain nodded sagely.
“You see how it is?” He allowed the senior officer to catch a flash of righteous anger. “We don’t stand a chance. These Artesans stick together, and because they’re so powerful, there’s nothing we can do about it. They’re slowly taking over. First Blaine, who is one of them, of course, although he didn’t used to be so bad, and now the King. They’ve started at the top, I’ll grant them that. Where it’ll all end, I don’t know. And if they succeed in removing the King, who knows what will happen to Albia?”
“What are you saying?” hissed Denny. “You can’t seriously accuse Sullyan of trying to kill the King!”
“Why not? Who else could it be? We know it’s someone with unnatural powers, don’t we? And she was there, both times.”
“Lower your voice, man.” Denny gave a worried glance around the room. “I might accept what you say about her love affairs, but I’ll never accept she tried to kill the King. She fought against the raiders! Killed a good few, too.”
“Well, she wouldn’t show her hand in front of witnesses, would she? She was hoping her outland allies would do the job for her. And what’s a dead demon, more or less? She’s very friendly with the demon ruler, you know. She’s even supposed to be related to him in some perverted way.”
He was silent a moment before urging, “Think about it, Lieutenant. She came from nowhere, found by Blaine, as the story goes. No parents, no origins. And she’s not like any of us, is she? She even talks oddly.” He eyed Denny. “How well do any of us really know her, eh, Lieutenant? Where do her true loyalties lie? Tell me that.”
Denny had no reply. His mouth was hanging open and he shut it hurriedly. He looked like a man with much to think about. Parren tried hard not to grin. “Here, I can trust you not to go spreading this about, can’t I?” he said. “I’m in enough trouble already. I can’t afford for my name to be associated with stuff like this. I only told you to help relieve the boredom.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Captain,” said Denny, “I won’t mention your name. My lips are sealed, believe me.”
Rienne appeared then, bearing Denny’s breakfast on a tray. She narrowed her eyes when she saw Parren, and the Captain rose, giving Denny a knowing look.
“Good morning, Healer Arlen,” he said, nodding with exaggerated courtesy as he walked away from the bed.
“Captain Parren.” Rienne spoke coldly, and Parren felt her eyes on his back as she watched him leave. Curious as to what she might say to Denny, Parren stopped just outside the door. After a few seconds, he risked peering back into the room.
Rienne had deposited the tray at Denny’s side and stood staring down at the injured Lieutenant. “What did he want?” she said.
Denny gave a lopsided shrug. “He was keeping me company.”
He yawned and Rienne frowned. “Don’t go exerting yourself. You’re still recovering, remember? And don’t pay any attention to anything Parren says. He’s a bitter young man with a vicious tongue. He only has himself to blame for his misfortunes, so don’t waste pity on him.”
Parren smiled as Denny watched Rienne move on to her other patients. The healer’s tone and strong words had brought a thoughtful look to the Lieutenant’s eyes.
*****
Galloping flat-out, Taran followed Sullyan round the north wall of the Citadel. The Adept supposed they were heading for the stone circle where the wedding ceremonies had taken place nearly a year ago. The Citadel’s sentries watched as they urged their mounts toward the hill. Sullyan halted Drum just outside the monoliths and slid from his back, letting the reins fall. She sprinted for the circle’s center, Taran on her heels.
On reaching the center, she turned to him. “Raise the power of Earth as strongly as you can. Quickly, man!”
Setting his questions aside, Taran turned to the western cardinal stone and drew in his will, calling on the element of Earth. The ancient stones began to thrum as the sluggish forces rose, flowing sunwise, linking the monoliths together. When the circle closed, pulsing with power, he called the element to him. It came, surging across the grass. He gasped at its strength. This was very different from when Sullyan had shown him the technique. He turned to face her, wondering what she wanted.
Urgent as she was, still she smiled her praise. Taran flushed with pleasure.
“Continue to call the power, but give control to me.”
He obediently opened his mind and felt her take him over, body and soul. Her amber force suffused him, his will subservient to hers. She never took total control, always leaving a private portion of his psyche untouched. He felt her throw out her own vast powers, augmented by the anchoring forces of Earth. She channeled the energies along the intricate swirls of her pattern until her psyche throbbed with force.
Eyes huge and black, she turned her attention to the Forest—to the site of ambush. Many patterns were visible here: the Hierarch’s unmistakable psyche, Anjer’s, Barrin’s, Bull’s. Taran, intimately linked to her, understood she was looking specifically for Aeyron’s imprint. It was immediately apparent that there was no hope. The taint of spellsilver was evident, and Aeyron had suffered its deadening effects. Through Sullyan, Taran could sense the instant his pattern had vanished from the substrate.
Frustrated and angry, she cast farther afield. She was acquainted with neither of the two lords’ sons, yet here she had more luck. About two miles east of the ambush site, she detected two muffled psyche imprints. Here, perhaps, were the two boys Aeyron had been entertaining. Although their patterns were also smothered in spellsilver, Sullyan could tell they were alive.
Bulldog.
Taran heard the big man respond. Sullyan reported what she had found and told him where to direct Barrin.
If he doubts you, go to Anjer. He will listen. But be careful, there may still be raiders in the area. Do not leave Timar unprotected.
Breaking her link with Bull, she urged Taran to call ever more strongly on the power of Earth.
He was amazed when even deeper strength flowed out. Without her steadying influence, he felt sure he could not have contained it. It was a vast relief when she took the power and cast it out again, using the energy as a fine probe to examine the substrate in the vicinity of the attack.
Unwilling to distract her with questions, Taran concentrated on keeping a constant power flow. He watched her work, marveling at her control. Just when he was beginning to tire, he felt her stiffen, sensed her shock. Sharpening his attention, he detected nothing amiss. Then she curtly instructed him to release the power.
Mindful of the need to let the stones resorb their energies, it was a few moments before he was free to ask her what she had found. When he turned his head he was concerned to see her staring distractedly at the ground, arms hugged tightly about her chest, an expression of fear on her face.
He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “What is it, Sullyan? What did you see?”
She raised her head, her face pale and her eyes wide. He felt his stomach tighten. She took a trembling breath and opened her mind once more to his. Confused, he accepted the contact, concentrating on what she showed him.
“What do you see, Taran?”
He frowned. “Only… well, nothing.”
Displeased, she shook her head. “That is not true, is it?” she snapped. “Tell me.”
Alarmed, he looked again, but there was nothing amiss. “I don’t understand,” he protested. “There’s nothing but my pattern and yours.”
Tears started in her eyes and he took her hand. “Tell me what’s wrong!” he said in a sharper tone than he had ever used with her before.
She flinched but did not rebuke him. Her voice was low with a touch of panic as she said, “I found a trace in the substrate where the ambush occurred.”
He raised his brows. “Show me.”
Distraught, she cried, “I already have!”
“But—”
“Taran,” she snarled, “what is this?” She thrust an image of her own psyche against his inner eye. He told her. “And this?” She presented another pattern.