by Cas Peace
It was not what Sullyan wanted, and she doubted it would do much good, but it was the best she would get. “I will,” she replied, seating herself once more, “and my first recommendation is that they should watch Baron Reen most closely. May I ask who receives the messages you send to the capital?”
Elias narrowed his eyes at the unexpected question. “Why do you ask? You surely don’t suspect my messengers?”
She shrugged. “In such uncertain times, your Majesty, I would discount nothing. I have no reason to suspect them. I merely wondered whether your dispatches went directly to the recipient or through your office first?”
“They go through my Chamberlain, Lord Kinsey, of course,” said Elias. “He passes them on.”
Via a servant, no doubt, thought Sullyan. She gathered her strength before voicing her next question. She was risking Elias’s anger again, but she had to ask.
“And if, in your absence, Lord Kinsey was… directed… to hand the messages to someone with higher authority? Would he do so?”
Elias scowled. “Only Sofira has the authority to intercept my messages, and you already know what I think of your suspicions concerning my Queen.”
“But what about her closest confidante? What about the Baron? If she bestowed her authority on him in a time of conflict, who would dare gainsay him?”
Elias considered this, his irritation arrested.
“Yes,” he mused, “it is possible he could use his influence to further his own ends without Sofira’s knowledge.”
“Then may I respectfully suggest that any runners you send to the castle are instructed by you personally to bypass Lord Kinsey and hand the dispatches directly to the recipient? If we are right and the Baron is involved in some way, then your absence means he is ideally placed to control what happens at the capital. Were it not for this escalation of hostilities I would suggest you return there, but it is out of the question.”
“It certainly is,” put in Blaine. “And if the Baron is responsible for this unrest, then sending his Majesty unprotected into his sphere of influence is an invitation to murder, considering the two attempts on his life so far.”
“I agree, General. I merely point out that we have no authoritative vantage at the castle now, save through his Majesty’s letters. It would be risky to involve the Queen in our suspicions, for if Reen is guilty of treason and she is unaware, we would be placing her in great jeopardy by informing her of our speculations.”
She heard Elias draw a breath and guessed what he was thinking. He had not considered that his Queen or his children might be in danger. If Sullyan was right and Reen was behind all this or in league with whoever was, then how safe were they? Their adversary would hardly balk at taking them hostage. What had happened to Prince Aeyron was testament to that.
Elias stared at Blaine. “Perhaps I ought to move Sofira and the children.”
Sullyan knew that Blaine had already considered this and decided against it. He wasn’t completely convinced by her argument that the Queen had to be involved in the plot, but neither would he dismiss the possibility out of hand. However, there was no firm evidence on which to act, and with the King so far from the capital, Sofira was necessary to the administration of Albia. Blaine temporized.
“Where would you send them, Elias? Don’t forget, it’s too dangerous to travel the countryside right now. They’re safest where they are. I’ve already sent a runner to the garrison with instructions to increase the royal guard. Our men will defend them well should any raiders be bold enough to attempt an attack. And if Sullyan is right and Reen is involved, you would not want him knowing where they were. How would you explain that to the Queen without informing her of our suspicions?”
Elias cursed. Sullyan knew he despised feeling so helpless. He barely acknowledged her respectful salute as she rose to leave.
The General followed her to the door. She regarded him in surprise when he stepped outside with her. He seemed unsure of himself, a rare thing. She waited him out.
“I suppose you’ve heard about Major Tamsen’s error yesterday?” he said finally.
Her expression hardened. “I have, General.”
“And have you also heard the rumors being bandied about by the men from Port Loxton?”
Her hands clenched. “Yes.”
“Then do something about it, will you? We can do without dissention among our own, Colonel! If the rumors have affected the Major’s ability to carry out his duties, then it’s up to you to sort it out. I was afraid this might happen if I allowed you both to remain here once you were wed. It’s not an ideal situation to have married partners stationed together. Why do you think the men are discouraged from courting the healers? Look how Healer Arlen worries when Cal is on patrol! It leads to too much friction, and I don’t like it. If you and Robin can’t come to some agreement, one of you will have to transfer.”
Sullyan froze. Blaine saw the pain in her eyes.
“You know I don’t want to lose either of you,” he said, his tone gentler. “You assured me before you were wed that your private life would not affect your professional duties. Now it has. Elias has caught no hint of it yet, but he will unless you sort it out. I don’t want to give him an excuse to move one of you to the capital, but he will if he believes it necessary. I don’t suppose you want that either, so do something about it.”
“Yes, General.”
Sullyan saluted stiffly, remaining rooted to the spot once Blaine had reentered his rooms.
She didn’t need this. Curse Robin for believing those stupid tales! How could he let her down like this? But then she remembered her own betrayal, her loss of control and use of power against the one she loved above everyone else. How could she have done that? They were both at fault, and she didn’t know how to put it right. Damage had been done and hurt given, but the time needed for healing might not be to hand.
She headed back to her rooms, hoping desperately to see Robin. She was sure his command would have returned by now, but there was no sign of him. Some of his clothes were missing. Sullyan sighed and collapsed onto the couch, too distressed even to brew fellan.
The sound of the outer office door opening brought her to her feet, her heart racing with hope and fear. Yet even before the knock came at her chamber door, she knew it wasn’t Robin.
“Come in, Bull,” she called listlessly, and sank back onto the couch.
The big man radiated anxiety. He came straight over to her and kneeled on the floor. She gazed into his worried eyes and found a wan smile for him.
“What the Void’s going on, Sully? What’s all this about Robin and Taran? Have you managed to calm things down?”
The tears that welled in her eyes dismayed him, and he caught her in his arms. He held her silently, and worried while she worked some of the hurt out of her system. Once she was calmer, he handed her a cloth to dry her eyes. In a firm but gentle tone, he demanded the whole story. Unable to hold back in his comforting presence, she told him. She withheld the hugely hurtful remarks Robin had made concerning Rykan, not trusting herself to speak of them. Nevertheless, Bull was fuming when she was done.
“The stupid idiot! What the Void does he think he’s playing at? You wait until I get my hands on him. I’ll give him a story to believe!”
Her release had restored Sullyan’s sense of control. “You will do nothing of the sort, Bull. There has been enough of that kind of thing already. This is between Robin and me. It is about trust, and you will only make matters worse if you interfere. Robin’s pride is at stake here, and his confidence. I will not have that undermined. He will come to his senses, given time.”
Bull was unconvinced. “Will he? And can you afford to wait for him to realize what a fool he’s been? What on earth possessed him to believe those rumors, anyway? Has he listened to nothing he’s been told over the past three years?”
Sullyan couldn’t stop fresh tears appearing, and Bull shook his head in disgust. He changed the subject. “Have you spoken to Taran
yet?”
Composing herself with an effort, she nodded. As he brewed fellan, she told him what had transpired between her and the Adept.
“So, he’s not coming back, then?” Bull asked, handing her a steaming mug. “There are many who will miss him, Rienne not least.”
Sullyan didn’t miss Bull’s veiled reference to Rienne’s condition. The memory of her friend’s happy news caused Sullyan to smile, and Bull was glad to see some of the strain disappear from her face.
“We will all be here for Rienne,” she murmured. “I am sure Taran will return once things have settled.”
Sipping his fellan, Bull gazed speculatively at her. “I probably shouldn’t bother you with this just now, but I’m a little concerned about Ozella.”
“Oh?”
“He’s been acting very strangely lately.” Bull sprawled in the chair opposite her. “You know how lazy he’s been since he came here, and how Robin, Taran, and I have all tried to convince him of the need to work harder? Well, none of us really got through to him. I couldn’t believe it when he suddenly begged you to take him to Andaryon. I thought maybe he’d finally seen sense. But he never paid attention to what was happening around him, despite saying he wanted to observe the workings of diplomacy. He was really depressed when we got back.
“Then I had him in my rooms the other day, practically on his knees, pleading to be given extra instruction. He even asked for strengthening exercises! But today he completely lost it and a simple exercise turned into total disaster.”
“Is that what happened to your hand?”
Bull nodded. “It’s not too bad. I’ve healed the worst bits. But the injury isn’t what concerns me. There’s something wrong with the boy. Something’s troubling him, and he’s not going to get anywhere until he tells us what it is.”
Sullyan sighed. She had too many responsibilities these days, too many calls on her time and too little energy to deal with them. Where was her stamina when she needed it? Just lately, it seemed to have deserted her.
Bull gazed at her, sensing her unease. “Look, just forget I said anything. You don’t have time for this. I’ll keep an eye on the boy and see if I can get through to him. But if he won’t talk to me, I don’t know what else I can do.”
She smiled gratefully at the huge man sitting across from her. “What would I do without you, Bull? If I can spare the time, I will speak with Ozella. Be sure to tell him he can approach me any time if he needs to. Now, how is Tad doing?”
They spent some time discussing less vital matters. The mere familiarity of their talk served to soothe and relax Sullyan and lend an air of normality to an otherwise fraught situation. By the time Bull rose to leave, she was feeling better.
She hugged him affectionately, reflecting, not for the first time, that he would have made her the ideal partner had he only been younger. Her love for him ran deep and true.
“I can sleep now, Bull,” she assured him, and despite not being totally convinced, he left her to rest. He was right to doubt, for as soon as she was alone in the big bed, the absence of her life mate caused her to lie wakeful far into the night.
Chapter Thirty
“Wake up!” The man’s boot slammed painfully into his ribs. Semi-conscious, his wrists circled tightly with spellsilver, Aeyron could only groan. His whole body was one vast bruise, some ribs were surely cracked, and he was parched and starved. His captors had offered him neither food nor water, and he feared his usefulness to them was nearly at an end.
He opened his eyes slowly. He could hardly focus. He was barely capable of feeling now, although some of Izack’s persuasive methods would have drawn responses from a corpse. When he was finally able to see, the Prince vaguely registered the Baron’s unwelcome presence, crouched beside him like a hungry spider.
Aeyron still occupied the dank, dark cell in the otherwise deserted dungeons. His only company, when left mercifully alone by his captors, were rats, and the only sound other than his own labored breathing was the far-off drip of water. This had driven him nearly mad when he was aware enough to register thirst. Now, he was too far gone to care.
He saw the Baron wrinkle his nose at the dreadful odors in the cell. No one had bothered to clear away the ordure from Aeyron’s body. Combined with the reek of infection, this made the cell a very unpleasant place. Reen clutched a scented cloth to the lower half of his face and looked as if he was on the verge of gagging. Izack, standing menacingly to one side, seemed unaffected.
“Well, my fine Prince,” mocked the Baron, “how do you like our hospitality? Has Izack been treating you well? Are the beds to your satisfaction?”
Aeyron stared blankly at him. He had learned not to make a sound on the rare occasions when the Baron appeared, for Izack needed no encouragement in his brutality. The sadistic Commander had paid his captive frequent visits of his own, and their only purpose, as far as the Andaryan could make out, was to satisfy his lust for violence. Aeyron’s half-naked body bore ample evidence of Izack’s gratification.
Reen stood, gazing smugly at his helpless prisoner. “You will be glad to know that your ordeal is nearly over,” he announced, smiling with malicious pleasure when Aeyron failed to suppress a feeble start. “Oh, yes. Your royal father should have acceded to my demands by now. The time has come to send him my final message. What do you think, my fine Prince? Shall we send him a message from you, too?”
A flare of hope rose unbidden into Aeyron’s eyes. It died almost instantly. The Prince had no energy to sustain it even had he truly believed he would be set free.
Reen cocked his head to one side. “What, you don’t want to let him know you’re alive? To send him some hope, some token, from his son? Come now, what kind of man are you?”
The Baron took a step forward, towering over Aeyron, daring him to reply. Aeyron watched in sick despair, fully convinced the hour of his death had come. Reen, however, hadn’t finished gloating.
“Ah, but of course,” he snarled, “you’re not a man at all, are you? You’re nothing but a creature, and an unnatural one at that. All of Albia will thank me when I have put an end to traffic with such as you. Our Matria Church will regain her rightful place and finally succeed in stamping out those who profess to arcane arts.
“Izack, hold him!”
The Commander kneeled, laying hold of Aeyron with strong and heavy hands. The Prince astonished himself, for the fear of what was coming released strength he didn’t know he possessed. He struggled violently. His half-starved efforts, however, were no match for the fit Commander. His resistance was futile.
The knife flashed in the guttering torchlight and Aeyron’s harsh scream of agony rang through the deserted dungeons. He fell into black oblivion and knew no more.
*****
“Well, Madam, I have to tell you that I believe the time has come.”
Baron Reen stood in Queen Sofira’s private solar, waiting for the storm. His Lady’s reaction was typically intense, and just as he had expected.
“No, Hezra!” Tears started in her eyes. Her bleached face turned even paler and two spots of color burned high in her cheeks. “I implore you, I beg you! It’s not necessary. There has to be another way.”
“Now, Madam, calm yourself. We have already discussed this. You knew it was a possibility if the demons didn’t declare war.”
Reen had to be cautious. His next two moves were vital to his plans. He couldn’t afford for Sofira to weaken or the whole scheme could be compromised. War was a very necessary part of his plans, for not only would it occupy the very powerful Artesan minds which might otherwise interfere with his goal, but it would also discredit Elias. A realm-war would show the populace how ill-advised the King’s tolerant policies were, and how fragile was his loyalty to Albia. Reen intended that the war, together with the ongoing and highly damaging raids, should be seen as a direct consequence of trafficking with outlanders. Then, when he finally abolished such blasphemous intercourse, he would be seen as the savior of humankind.
>
He would gain the acclaim and trust of the people, as well as having Sofira’s backing and endorsement. When Elias fell from grace, given, of course, that he survived the war, he, Hezra Reen, would be uniquely placed to bring about a new era not only in the governing of Albia, but also in the spiritual welfare of its people.
His soul swelled at the thought. Such high ideals, so selflessly conceived! He congratulated himself on his nobility and purity of purpose. Once Elias was deposed or dead, he would become the benevolent and fatherly influence behind the throne. He would guide the steps and mold the morality of young Prince Eadan, and then they would finally have a true monarch of the Faith. How the people would revere him!
First, though, he had to pacify the Queen.
“Everything is in place, Madam. My associate in Andaryon has finally sent me the item I requested, so my final message to the demon ruler is on its way. Soon, the silver will be in our possession. Yet, as I have already explained, that in itself is not enough. There is still the possibility that one of Elias’s so-called Artesans”—he nearly spat the word—“could interfere with our plans, although I doubt even his favored Colonel Sullyan could stop us now. I need them all to be fully occupied and kept out of our way. The concluding phase of my plan is delicate and will require time to be fully effective, so this final stage is vital. I know it distresses you, but just consider the rewards.”
Reen came closer and took Sofira’s cold hands in his. He stared compellingly into her hard gray eyes, softened slightly by her tears, and willed away her selfish fear.
“Just think what we stand to achieve! And it is not such a great sacrifice on your part. It will only be for a few days, and there is no danger. He will be quite safe. I have put all the arrangements in place, and you may trust me implicitly. I would never do anything to imperil him. You have my sworn word on that.
“But this is the only way to ensure that Elias is as committed to war as the demons. Once we have succeeded, just imagine how the people will love you! You will be seen as the greatest champion of humankind that has ever lived. You will be the mother of a new age, a glorious age, an age of the Church and great spiritual healing! Just think of that, Madam, and let it sustain you through these few days of sacrifice.”