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

by Cas Peace

  “And we must also consider their demand for thirty pounds of reverse polarity spellsilver. Rather than blocking it, that kind of spellsilver actually amplifies metaphysical power. So how could it be used against us?”

  “It might be intended to augment the powers of whoever is opposing us,” put in Blaine. “We know there’s at least one Artesan involved in this plot, willing or no.”

  “Thirty pounds is a vast amount, far too much to simply be needed for augmenting metaforce. But I take your point, General, for I am sure the Staff was created for just such a purpose. Remember, though, the spellsilver used in the Staff was encased in silicon-ceramic, so if some of this silver is intended for a similar purpose, why was no ceramic included in the demand?”

  “What’s the significance of the ceramic?” Elias asked.

  “When an Artesan wants to channel or shape the power he raises rather than using it in its raw state, he has to contain it,” Sullyan explained. “Otherwise it just leaks away. For example, when we open portways we construct them where there is a natural or artificial boundary so the power can be anchored and will stand alone long enough to be used. For spellsilver to function as an amplifier, the forces it absorbs must be contained, or they will simply run straight through. The silicon-ceramic is a light but strong Earth-element barrier which can contain huge quantities of power before becoming overloaded. However, you would only need about a pound of silver to make such a Staff as Rykan’s, and I simply cannot understand the significance of the enormous amount specified in the ransom demand. Surely this is all the more reason to set someone to search for our enemy?”

  The King’s mouth set in a firm line. “No, Brynne, and this is a command! You are not to go looking for trouble, do you hear me? I can’t spare you while we still don’t know what’s going on. We will counter these raids as they occur, but otherwise we will watch and wait. Maybe they will make a mistake. But don’t worry, I’ll not give them the satisfaction of seeing what I have built up crumble to pieces at the merest hint of trouble. If a breach of our trade alliance is what they hope for, then for my part they will remain disappointed!

  “We will wait for the time limit on the ransom to expire, and then consider the instructions for payment once Pharikian receives them. They will have to send someone to collect the silver. They will be vulnerable then, and we will have our chance to apprehend them.”

  Sullyan felt frustrated by what she saw as Elias’s failure to fully appreciate the situation. “And if they make no mistakes? What if they manage to take the silver and still hold on to the Prince? What if they kill him, Elias? What will you say to Timar then? Do you think he will consider your trade alliance worth his son’s life?”

  Elias bridled at her challenging tone. Blaine, clearly realizing the King was on the verge of losing his temper, sent Sullyan a message through the substrate. He was inclined to agree with her, he said, but he wouldn’t antagonize Elias in front of her. With the conflict still unresolved, Blaine sent her to her rest. He told her he would work on Elias in private.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Rest was the last thing on Sullyan’s mind. She had unwisely allowed her temper to rise at Elias’s refusal to send her in search of the Prince, and now she felt torn between her duty to the King and her love for Pharikian. Obedience to her monarch should be her primary concern, but how should she react when she knew he was wrong? It was an unfamiliar experience to believe she knew better than Elias, but in matters concerning Artesans she probably did. She knew the General agreed with her, but despite having more influence over Elias, he was under the same constraints as she. She could only hope he would use that influence to convince the King.

  Knowing there was nothing more she could do to sway Elias, she decided to attend to the matter of Taran. She had intended to spend some private time with Robin that evening. They had not seen much of each other since her return from Port Loxton and she felt it keenly. Now, even he would have to wait. If she rode swiftly, she should be able to reach the inn, talk with Taran, and return before the night was too far advanced. She would try to persuade him that he need not be absent from the Manor until the rumors died down, and she was damned if she would allow him to depart on the strength of some misguided gossip.

  Allowing her frustration with Elias and with Taran’s over-developed sense of honor to irritate her, she was curt with Solet when he objected to her taking Drum out again so soon.

  “Just saddle him, Stablemaster,” she snapped. “When I want your advice on my horse’s stamina, I will ask for it!”

  Solet stumped off to do her bidding, muttering under his breath. Yet he had the black harnessed in minutes, and Drum was as eager as ever to respond to his rider’s commands. Once she was mounted, he cantered out of the yard with his ears pricked.

  Sullyan cut across the Manor grounds on her way to the inn. She knew many short cuts that would reduce her journey time by half. If she was lucky, she could grab a bite there before she returned. She had taken only fellan since before dawn.

  It was twilight when she finally reached the inn, and a light rain was falling. She was thankful she had brought her cloak. If she had not, she might have been more inclined to irritation when she walked into the warm and convivial inn. It was busy; being summer, all the roads were open and there were many travelers about. News of the raids had spread, though, and there were not as many groups of visiting families as usual. The inn’s patrons were mostly merchants and tradesmen who could not afford to let outlanders ruin their livelihoods.

  As she walked over to the bar, the innkeeper noticed her.

  “Colonel Sullyan, we don’t often see you in here! Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Maybe later, Milo. I am looking for a friend of mine. He arrived a couple of hours ago. Tall, brown hair, hazel eyes? He was probably a little distracted.”

  “Oh, him!” Milo made a sour face. “He’s one of yours, is he? What’s he done then, deserted? I thought there was something funny about him. He looked sort of… furtive, if you know what I mean. I hope he can pay for his room and board.”

  “He is a friend,” she snapped, glaring at the man, “and he has done nothing wrong. The King will pay for his lodgings. Now, where is he, if you please? I have little time to waste bandying words with you. I have been out keeping your business safe from marauders all day!”

  Milo was taken aback by her commanding manner and her reprimand. He replied hastily. “He’s in the private snug, Colonel. Shall I send you in some supper? It’s been raining out there and you’ve had a long ride.”

  His fawning tone earned him a hard stare. “I thank you, Milo. Some food would be most welcome.”

  As the relieved innkeeper bustled off to organize their supper, Sullyan hung her damp cloak on the hooks provided. Crossing the crowded commons toward the half-open door to the private snug, she saw that Taran was alone. She was not surprised. Most of the inn’s patrons went there for news and company, not solitude. She could also see how profoundly unhappy he was. The five empty tankards on his table were testament to that, and he was nursing another as he stared blankly at the floor.

  Her voice was sharper than she intended when she spoke.

  “I suppose you think getting drunk will help?”

  He gave a guilty start as his eyes found hers. She was lounging nonchalantly in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, her arms folded. Her gaze assessed him, noting the embarrassed flush on his face. Irritated, she wished he would stop being so diffident.

  “Brynne,” he exclaimed, glancing at the empty tankards in front of him. “I asked Rienne not to tell you where I was.”

  “Oh, you did, did you? And did you really think she would let you leave like that, with no word to me? That was hardly fair on her, especially in her condition. Or did you think I would not notice your absence? Come on, Taran! You know me better than that. You are a friend and I care about you.”

  His brow creased. “What do you mean, ‘in her condition?’”
<
br />   Sullyan sighed. “She was so distressed by your going that she forgot to tell you her news. Rienne is pregnant, my friend. She is carrying Cal’s child.”

  She had not moved from the doorway, but even from there she could see the gleam of tears in his eyes. His misery wiped away all trace of annoyance. He was the way he was; it was one of the reasons she loved him so well. She could not fault his actions in the light of his sensibilities. Sighing again, she moved closer.

  He refused to meet her gaze. Taking the chair opposite, she leaned forward, seeing how he flinched as she wrapped her fingers around his hands. She almost thought he would draw back, but he did not.

  “Taran.”

  He tried hard not to look at her, but her presence was too compelling. When he finally met her gaze, the sympathy and warmth in her eyes nearly undid his resolve.

  “Tell me what has troubled you so,” she said. “I cannot believe you have let yourself be driven out by a few malicious stories. Have I not told you to ignore such petty jealousies?”

  He answered reluctantly. “It wasn’t the stories that drove me out.”

  She could sense his determination not to tell her, and gave his psyche a subtle nudge. Like Rienne, he found it hard to resist her and was unable to lie to her. If he did attempt to conceal the truth, or only reveal parts of it, she would know, and he wouldn’t want such deception to hurt her. Nevertheless, he did the best he could.

  “My presence was upsetting Robin, so I thought it would help if I wasn’t around for a while. The rumors will die the sooner without me there to fuel them. You and Robin have enough to worry about without me adding to the problem.”

  “What made you think Robin was upset?” Her tone was neutral but her attitude sharp.

  Still Taran tried to dissemble. “Well, he wouldn’t have made that mistake otherwise, would he?”

  Her sharply indrawn breath made him flush again as he realized she didn’t know.

  “What mistake?”

  He answered feebly. “You really ought to ask Robin.”

  She wasn’t having that, and gripped his hand tightly. “I am asking you, Taran. What mistake?”

  He turned his head away, misery plain on his face. “He told his men to kill all the invaders. He forgot about taking captives. I heard the General was furious and gave him a dressing down in front of the King.”

  “And?” She was merciless, well aware there was more.

  Taran grew increasingly distressed and she began to fear what he might tell her. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said, desperate for her to let it go. “He was just letting off steam.”

  Sullyan watched him carefully, seeing the passage of painful memories and not liking the implications of the sweat on his brow. She released his hands. Leaning back in her chair, she spoke as gently as her mounting unease would allow.

  “Taran, you have to tell me exactly what occurred between you.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t, Brynne. It wasn’t his fault. Please don’t make me speak of it.”

  She pursed her lips. “I must. I am sorry. It pains me to cause you further upset, but I must know what was said. If Robin has allowed the rumors to affect his professional judgment, then I have to know. I am still his commanding officer, and anything that has a bearing on the security of the Manor, the King, or the execution of our duties cannot remain concealed. You have to tell me, no matter how painful it might be.”

  She was being gentle with him despite the steel beneath her words. He was still reluctant, and Sullyan could not afford to wait until he found the strength to cope with his guilt. Much as she despised herself for doing it, she applied a touch more pressure to his psyche. His eyes grew wide with disbelief.

  “Do not make me do this,” she said softly.

  Defeated, he haltingly told her what had occurred between them, even repeating Robin’s exact words. He held nothing back, knowing she wasn’t going to leave him even a shred of dignity. He disclosed everything, even his innermost feelings. Tears came again as he related his shame, and when he was done he fell silent, his eyes fixed blankly on her unmoving form.

  She dropped her head to her hands, unable to recognize the man she thought of as her soul mate in Taran’s words. How could this be true? How could the man she adored have done this? Yet she could hear the truth in Taran’s voice. She sat silent even after he was done, until a movement by the door heralded the arrival of Milo, bearing two plates of hot food. He came hesitantly into the room and laid the plates on the table. He departed hastily.

  Taran allowed the delicious aroma of roasted meat to distract him, absently toying with his eating knife and picking at a few choice morsels. Sullyan raised her head at Milo’s entrance, but her eyes were tear-filled and unfocused. She sat in silence, leaving the food untouched. Taran, not knowing what to say, concentrated on the meal.

  When he had nearly finished and Sullyan’s plate was quite cold, she stood. Her body was trembling and she addressed him coldly, but he knew the frost was not for him.

  “Taran, I want your sworn word that you will not leave this inn. I understand your wish to be absent from the Manor, and I respect it. You have not taken a formal oath, and I cannot command you in a military sense. As a Master Artesan, however, you owe me your allegiance. I will not release you from that and you will obey me.”

  He hesitated, and her eyes narrowed. She would use force if she had to, but she would rather have his willing obedience. Finally, he nodded.

  “Good. Rienne will tell Cal of your decision to leave, and he may ride out and see you when he is at liberty to do so. I will also have to inform the King and the General, but I will do my best to keep the reason private. They have worries enough at present, so that should pose no problem.”

  Taran hung his head. He would be mortified to be the cause of yet more trouble to the General, who had been more than generous in letting Taran stay at the Manor when he wasn’t a member of the military. Seeing his chagrin, some of her sternness melted. She came to his side and kneeled by his chair, taking one of his hands.

  “I am so sorry you have been put through this. You have been such a good friend to both Robin and I, and I cannot bear that there should be enmity or awkwardness between us. I will do all I can to resolve it.”

  She forestalled his attempt to speak. “No, my friend, you will not take any blame for this. You and I are innocent of everything but a strong and abiding friendship, and I would be sorely grieved if anything damaged that. Robin’s behavior was extreme and uncalled for, and he will answer for it to me. He shall apologize to you, or I will know the reason why!

  “Now, I must return to the Manor. You will stay here and you can keep your gold in your pocket. You are still a member of the King’s College, do not forget that. I have already told Milo that your lodgings are covered, so you can take that pained expression from your face. Come, Taran, smile for me and lighten your heart. You have suffered a grave shock and you have been wronged, but you are not without friends. All will be well.”

  She gave his cheek a light kiss and he reddened, doubtless wondering when he would cease being a burden and be able to repay her kindness and support. He made a start by finding a small smile of gratitude as she stood and left the room.

  When she glanced back, he had the tankard of Milo’s best ale in his hand, his expression dark and sad.

  *****

  Cal was anxious by the time Rienne returned to their chambers. His mood wasn’t helped by his failure to find Taran, with whom he had hoped to discuss Robin’s harsh words. Cal didn’t want to bring his raw emotions to Rienne, not in her condition. Registering her inner turmoil as she entered the room, however, he forgot his own troubles and listened in dismay while she related what had happened between Robin and Taran.

  “But he can’t leave,” he exclaimed. “Where will he go, what will he do? We can’t just let him go off like this.”

  “I couldn’t stop him, Cal. You should have seen him. He was in a dreadful
state. I’ve never seen him so shocked and upset. But I made him promise to wait at that inn on the Tolk road at least until you had been to see him.

  “And then Brynne got the story out of me. I had as good as promised Taran not to tell her, but you know I can’t keep secrets from her. I didn’t tell her the reason, only that he had gone. Hopefully she’ll find some time this evening to speak with him, but whether even she can persuade him to return, I don’t know.

  “Oh, Cal, this is such a mess! And there was I thinking we were settled here. After last year, and once the weddings were over, I thought life couldn’t get much better. And then becoming pregnant….”

  The tears that had been threatening suddenly broke free. Cal held her close while she sobbed, trying vainly to comfort her. Eventually, she calmed and he released her.

  “I had better go and see Taran, love,” he said, looking down into her red-rimmed eyes. “Will you be all right?”

  She nodded. “It’s getting late, and it’s still raining. You’ll never get there and back tonight and still get some sleep. You had better stay over with Taran until you’re due back on patrol. I’ll be all right. An undisturbed night’s sleep will do me good. Go on now, or it’ll be too late.”

  *****

  Rienne’s eyes would have widened in shock and her hands would have covered her ears had she heard the string of profanities Sullyan muttered as she galloped Drum back to the Manor. She was shocked to the core and distressed by what Taran had told her. The incomprehensible thought that Robin had allowed a few unfounded stories to jeopardize not only a strong friendship but also the life of his King, not to mention the men of his command and his own life, set her mercurial temper well and truly alight. Yet what distressed and hurt her more was that Robin had believed and acted upon such stories without ever speaking to her. This caused a cold, hard fury to burn within her as she rode.