Shadows in the Stone

by Diane Lynn McGyver

  Chapter 40

  A Loyal Man

  Sanderson sat back in his chair and rubbed his chin several times with the side of his thick index finger. Releasing a heavy sigh, he eyed the dwarf sitting across the desk from him. “No need to inform Mulryan. I’ll take care of things.”

  “What about Sawney? He deserves the promotion.” Bronwyn had spent the past two hours discussing his concerns with the captain of the guard. Farlan had given Sanderson the numbers concerning race and ranks, but he didn’t appear concerned. The news should have shocked him, but instead the guard brushed it off. Bronwyn’s resignation upset the man more. It seemed to knock the wind out of him.

  Sanderson avoided eye contact. He dragged his finger along the stone wall beside him. A pebble came loose, and he fitted it back into place.

  “But he won’t get it, will he?”

  Without warning, the tall man stood and went to the door. “Come with me.”

  The dwarf rose, straightened the vest Alaura had bought him at the keep on the Upper Branch and followed.

  They remained silent until they reached the North Tower.

  “Shut the door.” Sanderson stepped inside.

  Bronwyn closed the thick piece of wood and turned to see his superior installing the glass panels which had been removed for air circulation.

  “Grab that one,” said the human.

  The room would grow hot in short order with the windows sealed, but Bronwyn lifted the panel into place. The human had never taken him to the tower, always willing to do business in his office. It felt strange being here now, in the captain of the guard’s private sanctuary. Everyone knew the rule: Don’t bother me unless it’s urgent.

  The room, twenty feet square, contained only a comfortable chair and a four-shelf unit filled with books. Two long windows on each wall lit up the room as if one stood outside.

  After securing the space, the captain of the guard rested against a window ledge and folded his arms. “You’ll have privy to this information for one reason: I know where your loyalties lie.” He looked around the small area. “Do you see this room?”

  Bronwyn nodded and took up a position in the next window sill.

  “It’s a sanctuary. It’s unlike any other place in the castle.” He looked at the dwarf. “Men have come and gone from this room, men I’ve trusted. Here we talk without fear.”

  Puzzled, Bronwyn looked again to see if the room held a particular significance.

  “Men of all races. Men whose loyalties are true.” Sanderson paused. “I’m not going to promote Sawney. He doesn’t deserve it. If I promote him, I might as well sign his Missing on Duty papers the same day. And Sawney deserves better.”

  Bronwyn didn’t understand. Non-humans held every rank above junior corporal. Sanderson had to promote other races into authority.

  “Do you know why I turned down every recommendation you made for a non-human in the past year?”

  Bronwyn shook his head.

  “I realised Captain Tibbins recruited each promoted man, and try as I might, I couldn’t convince them to refuse the cursed quest. They seemed compelled to accept. Every one of them disappeared.”

  “But you’re the captain of the guard. You have the authority to change it.”

  Sanderson chuckled nervously. “One would think.” He stared out the window as a guard passed on a nearby wall. “But I don’t know what possesses men to do what they do. All I can do is protect my men the best I know how. Sawney’s a good man, so are dozens of other non-humans serving with the castle.”

  “What are they supposed to do? Accept the fact they’ll never rise above private?”

  “You know me better than that.”

  Bronwyn thought he did…once.

  “There’s change in the wind,” said Sanderson. “I feel it when I walk these halls. I’m preparing to meet the next challenge. I’ve assigned fifty-three men to a secret force. Now, fifty-four men.” He eyed the dwarf. “These men, mostly non-humans, have special ranks not recognised by the lords. Most are corporals, three—four—are sergeants. One is their captain. Each recognises the other, but those outside the force are oblivious to their existence. Sawney is one of those men. Remember this, but tell no one.”

  Bronwyn stared. What possessed Sanderson to create a special force unknown to the lords? “And Farlan?”

  “The boy’s tenacious, too easy-going, but you’ve rubbed off on him. He’s going to make a good sergeant. He’ll make a better captain to the men of this secret force.

  “Burkenshaw is loyal to the castle. It’s all I ask of any man. It’s all I asked of you.” Sanderson cleared his throat. “The Laws of the Land are shifting, and I have no control over invisible forces. It’s important to focus on the things we can control.”

  “What if I find Isla next week and returned to my post? Will I be reduced to a private?”

  “Stay away. I won’t accept your application.”

  Bronwyn frowned.

  “I can’t protect you,” explained Sanderson, “and I won’t lose you to unknown foolishness. When I’m ready for you, you’ll know. Whilst you’re on leave, the men of this secret force will recognise you as sergeant, but won’t address you as such. When you’re reinstated, you’ll lead them as captain beside Burkenshaw.”

  “I don’t understand the need for a secret force. The lords must realise a negative influence is affecting the castle. Why can’t they act?”

  Sanderson grimaced. “The lords don’t control the castle and her men, Bronwyn. I thought you understood.”

  “If they don’t, who does?”

  A serious expression settled on his face. “The lords are servants of the people. They tend to their needs. It’s the captain of the guard’s duty and honour to care for the castle. It’s the highest rank any man can reach.”

  Bronwyn raised his eyebrows. The highest rank a man can reach? “You’re the castle’s best friend?” He grinned as he thought of Sanderson dancing down the halls bringing joy to everything he touched.

  The human chuckled. “I never thought of it like that before, but, yeah, I suppose so.”

  Maybe Alaura knew more about the workings of a castle than Bronwyn believed. If so Alaura didn’t have a lord, didn’t need one. She needed a best friend: him. But if Sanderson ran the castle then he had the power to make things right. “Why don’t you take control of the situation? Make things the way they should be?”

  “It’s more complex than simply giving orders. Imagine a man trying to control a woman. He knows what’s right, but she has her own ideas.” Sanderson half smiled. “They’ve gotta work things out their own way. If I used force, things may fall apart in my hands.”

  Bronwyn knew exactly what he meant.

  “There are other powers at play,” said Sanderson. “I can’t see them clearly, but I know they’re there. The castle shares its secrets, but it’s weak. It’s as if it’s holding its breath until relief arrives.” He looked him in the eye. “I’ve shared this with you because I trust you. I know you won’t let me down, won’t let the castle down. For security sake, guard your mouth. Trust no one, not even your woman.”

  “You have my word.”

  “Your word is your bond.”

  “My word is my bond.” It was unnecessary to bond Bronwyn; these secrets would never be shared. His loyalties to the castle felt as strong as those to his family, Isla and Alaura. A strange sensation stirred in his stomach, moved into his chest and caused a burp.

  He brushed aside the confusion it caused. “Thank you for taking care of the charges against Alaura. We were unsure of what we’d return to.”

  “I couldn’t have my best guard with his mind in the dungeon for three years, could I now?”

  Bronwyn felt his neck warm.

  “She’s the one, isn’t she?”

  He knew how Sanderson felt about Alaura and his guards uniting. Still, he nodded and tried to hide the smile.

  “I figured as much,” he said. “When a man looks at a woman
as you did the night Alaura walked in to meet with the lords, he loses all control of his senses. It’s as if his blood catches fire, and every time she comes near, she adds tinder to keep the flames rising. I tried to douse the flame but knew it was like trying to extinguish a conflagration with drunken spit.”

  He swallowed hard. It sounded to Bronwyn as if the captain of the guard once had a fire for a woman, one which burnt out of control. “My face looked that dumb?”

  “I wouldn’t call it dumb. More like daft, dim-witted.” An easy smile enlightened the captain’s face. “Are you taking her with you?”

  “No, she’s staying with Beathas.”

  “She seems like the kind of woman who’d want to be by your side.”

  “Well, she probably does,” Bronwyn said slowly, “but I want to keep her safe.”

  “We’ll see how it works for you. Remember what I said about force and things falling apart in your hands,” said Sanderson. “Lord Finley Dunsworth dropped in for a visit while you were gone.”

  “And?”

  “He asked about Alaura of Niamh. Seems he has an interest in her, but he wouldn’t say how. He asked about you, too.”

  “Me?” Bronwyn remembered the meeting on the road outside of Maskil. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

  “He wanted to know about your relationship with her. I told him the truth.” Sanderson continued in a flat tone. “You hired Alaura to care for Isla, nothing more. The two of you got along fine as long as you paid her wage on time. If not, she could get spittin’ mad.”

  “Why did you tell him that?”

  “I sensed more to the story than he shared. Did she ever mention Finley?”

  Thinking back to when Alaura kissed him before they fought Keiron, Bronwyn wondered if she had mumbled his name. “She’s never mentioned him to me. They’re both from Petra. Maybe he knows her from there.”

  “I’ll look into it. Might make a good story.”

  “I’ve another story for you,” said Bronwyn. “Do you remember Tam, a dwarf, who served with the castle?”

  “Tam Mulryan?” Sanderson sat up and lowered his brow.

  “Mulryan? I didn’t know his sire’s name.”

  Sanderson rubbed his chin, lost in thought. “He’s Lord Laird Mulryan’s kid brother. He was a worthy guard.”

  “He’s dead.”

  “I know. Died about ten years ago.”

  “No, he died trying to save Isla.”

  A fog of confusion clouded Sanderson’s eyes. “He served with us for about seven years, reaching sergeant. Tibbins sent him on a quest, and he never returned.”

  “He didn’t die on the quest, but wandered The Trail ever since. He worked with Keiron.”

  “Damn!” Sanderson grumbled. “He was good man. But I had a strange feeling about him. Did he say what happened?”

  “I didn’t get a chance to question him. Isla had recognised him as a trained guard. She…” Bronwyn’s voice cracked, and his eyes filled up. He thought he had control of his emotions, but talking about Isla like this stirred the hurt in his heart. He cleared his throat and continued. “She befriended Tam. She has a way of doing that.”

  Sanderson placed a strong hand on the dwarf’s shoulder.

  “In the end, he tried to help her,” said Bronwyn, “but in an instant he disappeared. We believe he’s dead.”

  “Tam was a loyal man, a good man.”

  “What happened then? He had the chance to return to the castle. Why didn’t he take it?”

  “I can’t say, but I wondered about him for a long time. He didn’t want to go on the quest and told his brother so. Lord Mulryan wouldn’t hear of his own kin turning down the offer; it’d have disgraced him. The night before he left I overheard a heated argument betwixt the two. It almost sounded as if Tam accused his brother of being a traitor to all dwarfs. Mulryan defended Captain Tibbins’ request for the service.”

  “I wonder what Tam knew that we don’t.” Bronwyn recalled another piece of the story. “Did Tam have a sister?”

  “She was more ornery than most men. She assaulted the guard at the recruiting office when he turned down her application.”

  “She wanted to enlist?” He stared in shock.

  “When the guard told her she couldn’t because of her sex, she decided to prove him wrong and broke his arm.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “When Tam didn’t return, she left. Maybe she went to find him; he was the youngest of their kinfolk. Maybe she wanted to get away from Laird; he can be unreasonable.”

  “I think she’s still alive. If my hunch is correct, Tam helped kidnap Isla to gain her freedom.”

  “Damn shame. Both were worthy swordsmen. She simply needed an attitude adjustment.”

  Bronwyn stood. “I should get going. I still have a lot to do before I leave tomorrow.”

  “Remember, this door”—Sanderson pointed to the one for the room—“is always open to those loyal to the castle.”

  “I’ll remember.” The dwarf reached out to shake the man’s hand. “It’s been an honour serving with you, sir. I hope to again as soon as time permits.”

  “You’re a fine man, Bronwyn. The best sergeant I’ve had the pleasure of reprimanding.” He half smiled and shook his hand. “I’m sure our time will come.”

  The dwarf hated good-byes, and the past two days contained many. Hesitantly, he turned to go.

  “Bronwyn.”

  He looked back and thought he saw Sanderson’s eyes gloss over as if he struggled to keep the moisture from breaking free of the ducts.

  “No matter what anyone says, you won’t regret your decision.”

  Bronwyn had believed Sanderson would think otherwise, that he had thrown away a military career by leaving his post to search for Isla. Then again, many things about this man remained a mystery.