by Cas Peace
Pharikian hesitated, plainly torn between begging her to stay and the knowledge that she could not. He sighed. “Very well, Brynne, you may go. But you will inform me the minute you discover anything of importance? Anything at all?”
The plaintive note in his voice gave her a pang of grief for this man she had come to love as a father. She hated to see him so vulnerable. She could only nod her assurance, as her voice would have given her away. She turned to Marik.
“Ty, would you grant me a private word? I can explain the situation to you and some of our suspicions, and there are one or two questions I would like to ask you.”
Idrimar wasn’t pleased to lose her husband’s comforting presence so soon, but he quickly reassured her and accompanied Sullyan back to her rooms. Once there, she saw the fresh fellan Bull had left brewing on the hearth. Smiling in grateful affection, she poured two cups. She and Marik sat together on the couch while she told him in detail what had happened. She also told him what she had not told Pharikian; that her suspicions concerning their enemy’s allies centered on the disgruntled and warlike Corbyn.
“What do you know of him, Ty?”
“Not much.” Marik’s expression was somber as he watched her over his cup. “He’s a northern noble, Tikhal’s immediate neighbor. He’s supposedly subordinate to Tikhal, but he’s been growing stronger of late and gathering support from other discontented nobles. It wouldn’t surprise me if he challenged Tikhal for supremacy in the north one day.”
She nodded. “He as good as threatened it today.”
Marik’s eyes widened. “Did he? By the gods, that was precocious. I wouldn’t have thought him strong enough yet.”
Sullyan told him what Corbyn had said, and Marik whistled.
“We’d be back to where we were before the Pact,” he exclaimed. “And if what Tikhal said about them killing Aeyron or forcing Timar to abdicate came to pass, then the Pact really would be dead.”
She cocked her head at him. “If Prince Aeyron is killed or Timar forced to abdicate, to whom will the Crown fall?”
The stunned and horrified look on his face would have amused her had the situation not been so serious.
“Bloody hell, Brynne,” he whispered, “you’d better find him quick, for all our sakes!”
Once the shock of his situation had faded, Sullyan asked Marik about Rykan’s palace.
“I destroyed it as soon as I could,” he told her, his pale eyes darkening at the memory. “After what happened to both of us there, I could hardly bear to look at it.”
She ducked her head. “Oh, Ty. I try to remember only that you helped me when no one else could and kept me alive long enough for my friends to find me. I will always be grateful for that. You risked your life for me and that can never be repaid.”
He smiled. “Well, if not for you, I wouldn’t be allied to the Andaryan ruling House and be anticipating the birth of twins. It is I who should be thanking you. Having said that,” he added casually, “I am rather disappointed in you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I think you could have told me rather than waiting for me to work it out for myself. We have both been wed the same amount of time, you know. I presume Timar knows?”
She frowned, completely puzzled. “Knows what, Ty? I do not understand you.”
He looked hurt. “Oh, come on, Brynne! I thought we were friends.”
“We are, which is why I am trying not to get angry! Just what is it you think I have not told you? It can be nothing of great importance.”
He stood up, deeply upset now. She could see it in his eyes.
“How can you say that? You don’t consider it important telling me you’re pregnant?”
She felt her face go white and stared at him, dumbstruck. He waited for her response, his expression becoming more unsure as the wait went on. Recovering from her shock, she smiled sadly. “Ty, whatever made you think that? I am not pregnant. Rykan made very sure I would never be able to carry a child. I am sorry, my friend. I thought you knew that.”
Marik stared hard at her, studying her pale face and slender form minutely. His face reddened and he sat down.
“Brynne... oh, I’m so sorry. I just thought… you looked… oh, gods, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
She moved closer, taking his hands in hers. “There is no need for sorrow. I have come to terms with it now. You are not to blame. I only thought you might have guessed as you were the first to be aware of the danger Rykan’s… abuse placed me in. But tell me. What made you think I was pregnant?”
He was thoroughly embarrassed now, plainly wanted to forget the whole thing. “You have that look about you,” he mumbled. “I guessed before Idri did that she was carrying, and I was right. I just didn’t think. Will you forgive me?”
She leaned forward and kissed him, causing his lean face to redden further. “There is nothing to forgive, my friend. Let us forget it. Now, shall we get back to business?”
“Of course,” he said, grateful for the change of subject. “What do you want to know?”
She smiled. “Before you destroyed it, did you find anything at all in Rykan’s palace to suggest who was backing him?”
He shook his head. “There was nothing in any of his written records.”
“Do you still have those records?”
“Yes. I didn’t think we should destroy them.”
“Quite right. Could you send for them and let Gaslek go over them? No, I am not suggesting you did not look properly,” she said, seeing his indignant expression, “but Gaslek is used to reading these things, and the smallest reference may be a clue which could easily be missed. Now, what of Sonten’s holdings? I believe you bestowed them on Nazir?”
“Yes,” he said, leaning back and taking more fellan. “I was going to give him my old manor of Cardon, but Idri wants me to pass that to our son.”
Sullyan nodded. “Very appropriate. Would Nazir have gone through Sonten’s records?”
“I doubt it. What’s Sonten’s relevance? It wasn’t him they were interested in, it was Rykan.”
“Granted, but Sonten was as ambitious as Rykan, although fortunately not as ruthless. We may never know for sure, but I suspect he intended to challenge Rykan through Jaskin once the boy had mastered the Staff. Why else would they steal it? And if that is the case, then Sonten may have had contact with whoever was financing Rykan. It will definitely be worth looking into Sonten’s records, if Nazir still has them.”
“Oh, he has them. Nazir hasn’t done anything to Sonten’s manor. It’s far more luxurious than anything he’s ever seen. I expect he’s still trying to find his way round all the rooms.”
“Then please get him to send everything to Gaslek. I am sure Timar will not object. I just hope Gaslek will forgive me all this extra work.”
Marik snorted. “Gaslek adores trawling through old records. He’ll love you forever!”
She smiled. “One last question, Ty, and then you can return to Idrimar. I realize you were not on close terms with Rykan”—Marik made a strangled noise, choking on his fellan—“but I need to know whether any of his commanders or higher-ranking nobles were Artesans.”
Marik frowned and Sullyan went on. “I ask because when Sonten captured Taran, Cal, Bull, and Robin, he had two Artesans with him. One was Commander Heron, but he perished with Sonten at Hyecombe. Would you know who the other might have been?”
Marik’s frown deepened. “Are you sure about this?”
“Of course. When Vanyr, Ky-shan, and I found them, I distinctly saw the impressions of two trained psyche patterns in Sonten’s band.”
“Then they were both Sonten’s men,” said the Duke confidently. “They certainly weren’t Rykan’s. The only gifted noble who was allowed to get close to Rykan was Jaskin, and that was only because he was thinking of making the boy his Heir. Rykan didn’t trust anyone. He was far too concerned about protecting his status to permit anyone with power anywhere near him. He simply wouldn’t have tol
erated the potential threat. How do you think Sonten managed to rise to the position he held? Giftless as he was, no one else would have elevated him. Mind you, there was an Artesan in Rykan’s forces, a commander named Verris. Rykan had some kind of hold over him, but I never knew what it was. Anyway, Verris got himself killed during the Albian invasion.
“Rykan didn’t encourage his nobles to develop their powers. I only held on to my manor because of the weakness of my gift, and Sonten would never even have become Rykan’s general had he been born with the power he craved.”
Sullyan considered this, not doubting Marik for a second. She had never fully appreciated his dilemma, thankful on the one hand that he had little in the way of talent yet powerless to resist Rykan and ally himself with the Hierarch, as his heart would have led him to do.
She turned back to the matter in hand. “Then if the Artesan I sensed was Sonten’s, there may be mention of him in the Durkos records. Please ask Nazir to send them as swiftly as he can. This is one lead that might prove to be immensely important, especially if the man is still alive.”
She let him go, seeing how he fretted after Idrimar. She was weary herself. Despite the abatement of her intermittent sickness, she seemed to tire easily these days. Standing and stretching an aching back, she prepared herself for another difficult communication with General Blaine before seeking her rest.
*****
On returning to the Manor early the next morning, Sullyan and her companions were greeted by signs of frantic activity. At least two companies were being readied for action, one of them Sullyan’s own. Seeing this, she leaped from Drum’s back and accosted Captain Dexter, who was issuing hasty orders. He turned a relieved look on her.
“Colonel, thank the gods you’re back. The General wants you to attend him immediately. There have been several serious demon raids overnight, and patrols are being sent out to deal with them. The Major left before first light with half our men, and we’re to leave as soon as you’re ready. But the General wants to see you first.”
“Very well, Captain,” she replied, already moving off. “I will be back directly. Carry on with your orders and make sure all are ready to ride on my return.”
She left at a run, leaving Bull, Taran, and Ozella to their own devices. When she arrived at Blaine’s door, Elias was with him. Both men appeared strained and careworn. The General had already told Elias about Aeyron’s abduction and the ransom demand, and the King’s face showed his concern. Both men looked up as she entered, Elias acknowledging her hasty salute.
“Captain Dexter says there have been more raids,” she said.
Elias scowled as Blaine made his report. “Our scouts brought word in the predawn hours of two serious incursions only a few miles south of here,” he said. “Villages are burning and people are being killed, seemingly at random. One of Vassa’s companies has gone to deal with one group, and Major Tamsen took half his men to run off the second. I didn’t call for you as I knew you were returning early, but a few minutes before you arrived I received word of a third raid, this one to the north. Vassa’s organizing a rota of patrols, but Captain Dexter offered to ready the rest of your company so you could leave immediately.”
Blaine’s expression was bleak as he watched her face. “Just what is going on here, Sullyan? Didn’t you manage to convince Pharikian of our innocence over those raids?”
She raised her brows. “Of course I did, General. Timar is well aware that we had nothing to do with the raids in Andaryon. He has the threat of civil strife in his own lands to contend with, as many of his nobles are discontented with what they see as his failure to retaliate. Some of them want him to break with us. He fears another attempt on his crown, and with good reason. I can assure you, these latest attacks were neither instigated nor authorized by the Hierarch.
“There is more to this than we know at present, but the abduction of Prince Aeyron is a serious escalation. I am convinced all these events are linked, and this ransom demand of spellsilver may give us a clue to our enemy’s ultimate purpose. Although, for the moment, neither Pharikian nor I can guess what it might be.”
“How is Pharikian?” asked the King, a hint of dark shadows under his eyes.
Sullyan regarded him openly. “Heartsick, your Majesty. Aeyron is his Heir and his only son. I am sure you can imagine how he feels.”
Elias winced, dropping his eyes. Sullyan turned back to Blaine. “A thought occurs to me, General. Two attempts have already been made on the King’s life. Might these raids so near to home be a ploy to empty the Manor of its forces? Loath as I am to suggest we leave the people to fend for themselves, we must not allow ourselves to be fooled into leaving the King with too few defenders.”
Blaine’s expression tightened, as if he considered her words an implied criticism. Elias, however, wasn’t concerned with that. “You surely don’t think they’d attack here?” he asked.
She stared at him and brutally pointed out, “They tried within the very boundaries of your own stronghold, your Majesty. What makes you think they would balk at trying here?”
Neither Blaine nor Elias could answer her, and it was clear that even the General had not seriously considered this possibility. She left them then, returning to Dexter and the men of her command. She led them out into the morning, riding swiftly with her senses alert, always aware that this could be a ruse to cover another attempt on the life of her King.
*****
Cal was surprised but pleased that morning when Robin took him along as Acting Captain when he left the Manor with his company of fifty men. Rienne, proud but worried, had Cal make many promises to be careful: not that he needed reminding of what he stood to lose if he was not. They rode out into darkness and quickly covered the miles to the reported site of the raid. Robin sent Cal and another man forward to scout the area.
Cal was determined not to let Robin’s strangely irritable mood distract him from this chance to show his mettle. Still, the dark-skinned young man couldn’t imagine what had caused it. Robin could be hot-headed, but he had never shown the kind of temper he was in of late.
The men were puzzled too. The Major’s mood was so out of character that they were dismayed, thinking there must be some military reason for it; impending war, maybe. Most of them had heard the rumors, of course, but none of them gave the gossip any credence, and Robin had never been one to bother with it, so his ill temper remained a troubling mystery.
Cal and his companion checked the area carefully on foot and soon came across a group of about twenty Andaryans systematically firing and looting a small farming settlement. It was totally senseless; the farmstead was a poor place and held nothing of value. From what Cal could see, the raiders were bent on wanton destruction and nothing else. He reported swiftly back to Robin, whose foul mood was still much in evidence.
“Right, lads, no holding back. Let’s teach these demons that they can’t raid wholesale into our lands without encountering our steel!”
Cal was surprised to hear Robin refer to the Andaryans as demons, but he had no time to ponder. The men gave Robin their eager agreement, and the Major led them at a gallop straight toward the farmstead, where the cries and screams of the little community could be heard above the crackle and roar of burning buildings.
Dawn’s light was only just breaking across the sky, but the light from flaming barns and cottages illuminated the stark shapes of the raiders, outlining targets for the men. The fight was short, bloody, and brutal.
When it was over and they had tended their own wounded, Cal risked a quiet word with Robin.
“Major, shouldn’t we have tried to take prisoners? We might have been able to find out who’s behind this.”
To his shock, Robin rounded furiously on him.
“Are you criticizing me?”
Cal stepped back a pace, his face falling. Robin continued angrily. “You’re only Acting Captain, remember! Don’t get above yourself. Go and see what you can do for those poor farmers. Leave the strateg
y to those who know what they’re doing.”
Hurt and stunned by this unjust reaction, Cal didn’t mention that he thought he had recognized one of the Andaryan raiders. He couldn’t remember where he had seen the man, and he wasn’t among those they had killed. Disinclined to brave Robin’s foul mood a second time, Cal dismissed it from his mind.
He received sympathetic looks from some of the men, none of whom dared speak out in his defense. They went about trying to help the farmers put out the fires and tend their wounded and dying, of whom there were many. The raiders had been merciless and the greasy smoke, reeking of charred wood and burned flesh, stuck in everyone’s throats.
*****
Had Cal but known it, Robin’s fury was directed more at himself than the younger man. Sure that his black mood was justified, he nevertheless knew he shouldn’t have allowed it to affect his professional judgment. He was horrified that he might now be responsible for letting vital information slip through their fingers. Cal was right. He should have given orders to take prisoners at all costs. Instead, he had taken out his feelings of betrayal on the raiders.
Yet he was damned if he would take a reminder from a subordinate. He had made what could turn out to be a grave mistake, and this knowledge fueled his fury at what Sullyan and Taran had made him do. Instead of apologizing to Cal and forcing his anger down, he moved among the dead in a mounting rage, looking for colors of allegiance, anything to lessen the magnitude of his error.
He found nothing.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sullyan rode shoulder to shoulder with Captain Dexter as she led her company to a rendezvous with the scouts who had reported the raid to the north. She was aware of Dexter watching her, and surmised the rumors were behind his scrutiny. Well, he would find no fault with her focus. She didn’t mind his concern. They all trusted each other with their lives every time they went out, and a good captain always had the best interests of his men at heart. Dexter would never believe such tales as those spread by the men of Port Loxton, but he was right to be wary.