by Cas Peace
Bowing his head to his hands, Ozella burst into uncontrollable sobs.
“All right, all right,” said Bull hurriedly, exchanging a puzzled look with Tad. “Calm down, lad. There’s no need to take on so. It was an accident, I know. But you must realize you can cause all sorts of damage if you don’t learn to control yourself. You’ll never be able to channel metaforce effectively if you can’t master your emotions.
“Look, I’ve got to go to the infirmary and get these shards out. Tad, you practice what you were doing earlier with the cornelian and the diamond. Ozella, if you really want to make progress, you can start by learning to channel through the amber. I want to see you pass metaforce through it without melting it. All right?”
Ozella nodded and wiped his eyes. Bull shook his head and left the room.
He made his way to the infirmary, where the noon meals had just been cleared away. He hadn’t realized it was so late. He would miss second servings in the commons if this took too long. He found Rienne, who had just returned after her own meal, and she exclaimed over his lacerated hand.
“That looks nasty, Bull. What on earth happened?”
“Yes, that’s it. Earth happened,” he quipped, explaining when she didn’t understand.
Taking him into one of the treatment rooms, she made sure he had numbed his hand before she probed for the crystal splinters with fine tweezers. It didn’t take long. Treating conscious Artesans was an easy task, for not only could they deal with their own pain, they could also tell their healer where any foreign bodies were and when they were all removed.
Having extracted all the shards, she waited while Bull stopped the bleeding and began to close the wounds. Then she gently bound the hand, as he would have to keep it covered while the newly knitted flesh strengthened. Some of the shards had driven to the bone.
He watched her while she worked and noticed the hint of bruising beneath her eyes and the pallor of her face.
“What’s the matter, Rienne? I know there’s something.”
Tying off the bandage, she sighed and sat on the table beside him. “You haven’t heard, then?”
“Heard what? I gather you don’t mean those ridiculous rumors.”
She hesitated, clearly not knowing where to start. Then she told him all she knew, and his honest brown eyes were wide when the tale was over.
“I can’t believe this!” he muttered. “So that’s why Denny left his bed so early when he clearly wasn’t fit. I just assumed he’d had enough cosseting, although I thought he was running a risk. That arm’s nowhere near healed.”
Rienne turned away, shame on her face. “I couldn’t trust myself to treat him anymore. Whenever I looked at him, I felt sick. He’s done such damage. I just couldn’t bear him near me.”
“I’m not blaming you, dear heart!” Bull took her hand. “He’s lucky you didn’t break his other arm. But what I really can’t credit is Robin reacting so badly to gossip. What could have got into him? Poor Taran! He must have been scared witless to leave like that.”
“You should have seen him. He was in a terrible state. I do hope Brynne has been able to talk him round. She said she would try to see him yesterday. Cal went over there last night, but I don’t know what happened. He went out on patrol as soon as he got back. Oh, I do hope he and Robin don’t come to blows again! Cal was furious when I told him, and talking to Taran won’t have calmed him any.”
“Come to blows again?” repeated Bull. “Are you telling me Robin had a go at Cal too?”
“Oh, not physically,” she said. “But he chewed Cal out in front of the men for daring to question his lack of orders about taking captives on that first raid. Cal was very upset. He said Robin was almost savage about it.”
“What is going on?” puzzled Bull. “This isn’t like Robin at all. I know he can be hot-headed, but I thought he had it under control now. I’ll have to have a word with him. He can’t go on like this.”
“You might want to speak with Brynne first,” said Rienne. “She’s his superior officer. It’s really up to her to deal with any backlash over these rumors. I doubt she has any notion of how damaging they’ve become.”
“No,” Bull snorted. “She wouldn’t have. You know how little she worries over things like that. She’s lived with rumors all her life and she takes less notice of them than what she eats. She won’t have any patience with Robin if he’s taken any of this to heart. Perhaps I ought to try to speak with him before she does, just to let him know what he’s in for if she gets her famous temper up.”
Rienne shook her head. “You might already be too late. I don’t suppose she will have kept quiet if they spent any time together last night.”
“Damn,” he said, “you’re probably right. Then I’ll have a case of wounded pride to deal with. Remember what he was like after she chewed him out over that stupid duel with Parren?”
Rienne’s face paled further. That incident had marked the start of a painful time for all of them.
Bull regarded her narrowly. He could see she was deeply worried, but something told him she hadn’t given him all the facts.
“There’s something else, isn’t there? Come on now, holding out won’t do you any good. If there’s any more bad news, you’d better let me have it.”
To his surprise, Rienne smiled. Her gray eyes lost their strained appearance and her face fell back into its usual softness.
“You’re right, as usual, but it’s not bad news.” She took a breath. “Bull, Cal and I are going to be parents.”
His mouth dropped open and he sat stunned for a few moments. Then his florid face broke into a delighted smile. “Oh, Rienne!” He leaned forward and gathered her into a warm bear hug. “That’s wonderful news. What did Cal say? When is it due? Taran will be so proud of you both! Have you told Sully yet? She’ll be over the moon!”
Rienne laughed at Bull’s jumble of words and did her best to answer him. “Cal was as pleased as you could imagine. It’s due in around six months’ time. I didn’t get round to telling Taran before he left. Yes, Brynne knows about it. I asked her to confirm it for me. I felt a little guilty about it, but you’re right, she was very pleased for us.”
“Guilty? Why on earth should you feel guilty?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Remember, she can’t have children of her own.”
Bull snorted again. “Gods, Rienne, don’t ever think she wouldn’t be as pleased as anyone for you and Cal! In fact, this could be the best thing for her. She’ll be able to cosset and play with your baby without the responsibility of having her own. She’d find it very hard giving up her current way of life to look after a baby, you know, even for a short time.”
Rienne smiled sadly. “Yes, that’s true, and I appreciate what you’re saying. Brynne can spend as much time as she likes with my baby, but if you think that loving someone else’s child could possibly make up for being unable to bear your own, then you’re very much mistaken. It could even cause her to feel worse about her barrenness rather than better.”
Bull frowned. “Do you really think so? Has she said something to you?”
“Of course not.” Rienne sighed and rose. “You know she never talks about things she has no control over. She says she’s accepted it, and I believe her up to a point. But I don’t think even she realizes how deeply these feelings can run. I’m sure her recent health worries are all rooted in the same problem, although every time I examine her I can find nothing really wrong. We’re going to have to support her over the next few months. It could be a very difficult time for her.”
Bull rose too, thinking he ought to check on Tad and Ozella before releasing them to their meals. His own stomach was growling for food. “It’s going to be a difficult time all round,” he agreed, “especially if this situation with the raiding worsens.”
“Do you think it will?”
Bull heard the note of fear in her voice. “I don’t honestly know, dear heart. But you can rely on Blaine and Sullyan getting to the bottom of it s
oon. We’ve had to play a waiting game over these past few months, but now our enemy has finally made a move it’s only a matter of time before we discover who he is. Elias won’t see his treaty with Andaryon threatened, and he won’t easily be pushed into an escalation. Once we know who’s really behind all this, we’ll find a way to stop him, you’ll see.”
Bull didn’t voice his opinion that little progress had been made so far toward uncovering who was behind the raids. The previous months of careful searching for the creator of the Staff were as frustrating as they were futile. Now that the attacks were intensifying, how would any of them find time to search? And now there was Prince Aeyron to consider, whose plight must be causing Pharikian terrible pain. Bull had an uneasy feeling that things were going to get much worse before they got better.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sullyan and Dexter led their exhausted company back to the Manor in the middle of the afternoon. The weather had deteriorated, and they were wet as well as weary. The raiders’ sporadic attacks had sent them scurrying from village to small town to hamlet, always one step behind, as the raiders used the Veils to evade patrols before the Albians got close enough to engage them. The raiders were wreaking mayhem on the villagers, and unless the Albians could stop them, there would be widespread disruption of the vital work in the fields. Many of the farmers were understandably reluctant to leave their homes and families undefended.
Sullyan and her men advised each community on how to protect itself, promising aid and support where they could. Yet she knew they stood little chance of putting an end to the damaging assaults unless they could identify the source of, and reason for, the raiding.
Many of the village Elders muttered about war and the necessity for retaliation. She could have done without these protests, but she couldn’t blame the villagers. Their livelihoods and families were being torn apart by demons. She supposed she would feel the same in their shoes and reluctantly agreed to carry their messages to Elias.
Riding at the head of her command back toward the Manor, she contacted Ty Marik for an update on the situation in Andaryon. Marik’s feeble Artesan powers meant that Sullyan had to exert herself in order to reach him. The strain of doing so only added to the weariness in her bones. Weariness caused by fears for her country and the pain of her rift from Robin.
Marik’s news was depressingly familiar.
Yes, we’re experiencing raiding too. Small groups of humans appear from nowhere, cause as much damage as possible, and then vanish before we can deal with them. It’s driving Anjer mad. No prisoners have been taken, and any injured raiders are dispatched by their own comrades before they cross the Veils. They obviously don’t want to risk capture.
Sullyan cursed under her breath.
What is the mood of your people, Ty? How is Timar bearing up?
She heard Marik’s mental sigh.
The mood’s turning ugly. Corbyn’s still pouring poison on everything and demanding the right to respond in kind. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if some of his men are responsible for the attacks in your realm. He’s said nothing on the subject, but I think he has enough support in the north to act on his own. Timar fears to send him packing in case we lose what little control we have. Anjer can cow him for the moment, but it won’t hold forever.
Timar’s taking it badly, Brynne. Aeyron was a great source of strength and support, and Timar feels his son’s loss deeply. Idri’s beside herself with worry for them both. I think Timar’s hanging on the hope that you’ll be back soon.
Sullyan’s heart clenched in sorrow for her foster father’s pain.
You must be Timar’s strength for now, Ty. I am not free to come. I am needed here and I cannot desert my duty, no matter how much I wish to be with you. Tell Timar and Idri that my thoughts are with them, and remind them they can bespeak me any time they wish. When I have the liberty to come I will be there, believe me. Have you made any progress with Rykan’s or Sonten’s records?
She heard Marik’s dry chuckle in her mind, a genuine sound of mirth amid the gloom.
Gaslek’s in his element. He’s probably the only cheerful person here right now. Nazir sent him a trunkful of papers from Sonten’s mansion, and I managed to get hold of all the rest of Rykan’s archives. Gaslek’s buried under a ton of parchment and he’s as happy as a pig in poop! Timar ordered him to concentrate on that to the exclusion of all else. If there’s anything to find, the Baron will find it, never fear.
Sullyan gave a small smile.
Keep me informed, will you? Especially if there are any developments concerning Aeyron’s ransom. The three days expire tomorrow. Stay close to Timar and be ready to support him when he needs you.
Breaking the link with relief, she rode the rest of the way in somber mood, wondering whether the chances had improved of convincing Elias to send her in search of their enemy. She doubted it, but in the light of Marik’s news she felt she had to try again.
Once she had washed off the grime and made herself presentable, she gave her report to Blaine and the King. Both men appeared more careworn than before, and neither had had anything like enough sleep. She dutifully handed over the messages of protest entrusted to her by the village Elders. Drinking fellan while the King read the messages, she gauged his mood before deciding what to say.
“Your Majesty, just before I returned today I took the liberty of bespeaking Duke Marik for an update on the situation in Andaryon.”
Elias fixed her with his piercing gaze. “And?”
She faced him openly. Now was not the time to show her frustration.
“The news is not good. They have been subject to raiding on the same scale as us, and the Albian raiders use the same tactics. Surprise attacks on outlying villages, doing as much damage as possible before vanishing through the Veils at the first sign of organized resistance. They also kill any wounded who are in danger of capture. Your Majesty, some of Pharikian’s nobles are pressing him to break with you and declare war.”
Blaine shook his head, but Elias’s gaze never left hers. “And will he?”
Sullyan dropped her eyes. “That is not for me to say, your Majesty. He is overcome with grief and worry for his son, and I do not care to think what this will do to him. He will be most reluctant to accede to their demands, and for the moment Lord General Anjer is keeping the rebels at bay. How long that will last, I cannot say. But if enough of the higher-ranking nobles experience such raiding, they may well band together, gainsay the Hierarch, and act on their own.”
“I would say they already are,” retorted Elias. “They are doing untold damage, Colonel, and I can’t allow it to go on indefinitely.” He eyed her with unconcealed frustration. “Brynne, why can’t you use your powers to slip through the Veils and catch these raiders before they escape? Use their own tactics against them?”
She had expected such a question, but thought the General might have informed the King why he was asking the impossible. She shook her head ruefully.
“I wish it were that simple, your Majesty. So far, neither you nor Timar has broached the subject of an agreement to transfer troops through the other’s realm. Not only would it be a serious breach of protocol, but it is also impossible on a more practical level. First, I would have to focus all my energies on continually scanning the substrate for any openings large enough to admit a raiding party. Then I would have to construct not only a tunnel into Andaryon, but immediately another back into our own lands, to where the raiders were. You have heard me say before that working the substrate drains our energies, and only those of us who are Adept-elite and above could do as I have described more than once or twice in a day. If I were to spend myself like that, I would be fit for nothing in a very short space of time. I am truly sorry, your Majesty, but in this case the raiders have the advantage.”
Elias’s eyes blazed in anger, not at her but at the untenable situation in which he found himself. He was trapped and he knew it.
“I cannot just sit by and watch my peopl
e being systematically plundered of their homes and livelihoods!” he thundered. “It’s intolerable.”
“All the more reason, then, to spend more effort in searching for those responsible,” she urged. “War is what they want. We must not let them force it on us. Please, your Majesty, give me leave to concentrate on finding them before they succeed in their plan.”
Elias slapped his hand on the table. “No, Colonel! I’ve already told you, I can’t spare you.”
He stared her down when she tried to protest, and she looked to Blaine in appeal. The General’s expression was closed, but she was sure he shared her views.
Her tacit request for backup angered Elias, and he snapped at her. “It’s no good looking at Mathias! He, at least, will obey his King.”
She flinched and drew a sharp breath at this unfair reprimand, then kneeled before the angry monarch. “As will I, your Majesty.”
Her submissive gesture mollified Elias, and she felt his twinge of shame. He was not usually disposed toward bad temper, but he was in danger of losing control of this situation. Deeply committed to the fair rule of his country, he bitterly resented this most personal of attacks on his policies. He was helpless to make any real contribution to the battle being waged, as his opposers had access to powers that he did not. His own deep-seated envy of those who did was beginning to surface.
“Oh, get up, Brynne, I wasn’t questioning your loyalty. But I need those I trust to stay by me. Despite what you may think, I took note of your advice and sent a message to Lord Levant, asking him to instruct the garrison to watch for any signs of our enemy. We don’t have much to go on, I know, but they’ll ask questions and report anything suspicious. If you have any specific suggestions as to what they should look for, you should give them to the General.”