by Jenny McKane
Avalon nodded. “It was all that I could think of,” she said. “They know most of the Jarle bases already, and it would have been suspicious if I had have led them to one, but they seemed unaware that this house was under Jarle command. I assumed that it would be well guarded.”
“You assumed correctly,” the commander said. “Well done. We finally have the revered Gwalen in our hands. This is a major victory. It will undermine the rebels, and it might cause dissention in their ranks, tearing apart this rebellion completely. I think that you will be honored, Guardian Lund.”
Avalon swallowed painfully. “What will happen to Gwalen and his people now?”
“They will be transferred to the political prisoner’s camp for processing,” the man replied. “Although that is all just procedure, of course. A date will set for their execution, and a place chosen for it. It will need to be public and grand.”
“They will not have a trial?” Avalon stared at him.
“What for?” the man said disdainfully. “We know who he is and what he has done. We need to crush these rebels swiftly and show the Stromel what happens if they try to revolt against us.” He gazed at her. “You understand the necessity of that, Guardian Lund?”
“Of course,” said Avalon.
The man stood up. “I will see to the horses,” he said. “I have arranged for two of my men to accompany you, and I have secured a boat back to Farric. It leaves in a half hour.”
“Commander,” said Avalon, as the man turned to leave. “Could I make a request?”
“Go ahead,” the man said.
“Could I speak to Gwalen before I leave?” she said. “My partner is still missing, and Gwalen never told me if his rebels captured him or have killed him. I need to find out.”
Commander Vidar stared at her for a moment. “If you are quick,” he said. “I understand your need to know. I will arrange for the prisoner to be sent to the interrogation room. Do you require a guardian to sit in with you?”
Avalon shook her head. “I think that he will tell me more if I speak to him alone.”
“As you wish,” said the guardian. “It is the second room on the right of the long hallway. I will tell the guards to bring him.” He left the room.
Avalon slowly exhaled. She only had a small amount of time. She had to convince him that she was on his side.
It was going to be difficult.
***
He was already sitting in the interrogation room when she opened the door and walked in.
His hands were still bound, and she could see that the bruises on his face had darkened further. What had they done to him?
His blue eyes watched her, as she sat at the chair opposite him, across the small table.
“Skyresh,” she said.
“Guardian Lund,” he spat back. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this little talk? I thought that you would already be long gone, back to your lair.”
Avalon took a deep breath. “Skyresh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Sorry? It was your intention the whole time. I should have listened to Minna and the others. They knew it was a trap, but I was swayed by you.” He took a deep breath. “For some strange reason, I thought you were different.”
Avalon leaned over the table towards him. “You are right; it was my intention. I was leading you here to trap you, but I was having doubts the whole way, listening to you. I almost didn’t do it.”
“But you did,” he breathed. “Have you a guilty conscience, Avalon? Did you realize that we are only people, the same as you?”
She colored. “I know that you are people the same as me,” she said. “I fled after injuring Minna. I stumbled upon a camp…a camp, like the ones you told me about. I saw what they do there, to the people they call the Unseen.” She took a deep breath. “It was horrific. I finally realized that you were telling me the truth, and I came back to try to save you.”
He stared at her, his blue eyes impassive. “Why should I believe you? How do I know that this isn’t another trick?”
Avalon lifted her shoulders. “You don’t, I guess,” she said. “Although what I can hope to gain by telling you this, I cannot imagine. I am on your side, Skyresh. I am deeply ashamed of what I have done.”
“Too late now,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Even if you are being honest, it makes little difference. We will be killed, as an example to all. I know how it works.” He laughed bitterly.
Avalon stared at him. “I will find a way,” she said fiercely. “I will save you, and the others. I swear it to you.”
Skyresh gazed at her. “That is not possible,” he said. “I know what the camp they will take us to will be like. All the camps are impenetrable. No, it is the end for us, but—hopefully—the people will get angrier and continue to rebel. Hopefully, it will galvanize them. I am not afraid to die for my people.”
Avalon gasped. “Do not say that! I will find a way.”
She reached a hand across the table towards him although she didn’t know why. He couldn’t take it. His own hands were bound. He stared down at her hand, frowning.
“I have no idea if what you say is the truth,” he said. “If you are truly on our side now, or just trying to appease your conscience. Or trick me into saying something else, which you will report back on. It hardly matters, Avalon. You have led us here, and now you must reap the consequences of what you have done.”
Tears filled her eyes. It was true. No matter what she said to him, or any promises she made, she was responsible for this. She had led them here deliberately. She had been having grave doubts about doing it, but she had done it all the same, and now, he was to be executed. She had no idea where the camp he was being sent to was. How was she going to save him?
There had to be a way. She would find a way.
The door opened, and a guard came in. “Time’s up,” he said. “They are ready to escort you, Guardian Lund. The commander is waiting.”
Avalon stood up slowly. “Thank you.” She looked down at Skyresh, sitting at the table. He stared straight ahead, not looking at her. She could feel her heart slowly breaking, but there was nothing more that she could say.
“Journey well, Guardian Lund,” said Skyresh mockingly.
She stared at him, then walked out the door, trying hard to stop the tears that had filled her eyes from falling. Crying wouldn’t change anything, and it would only give her away.
He didn’t believe her; she knew that. Why should he trust her again after what she had done? But she would show him. She was a fearless warrior, and she had been well trained. She had ways of finding things out. She would be relentless.
Skyresh Sakr was not going to die. She made the promise to herself, as she walked into the day to the waiting horses and guards about to lead her far away from here. And far away from him.
Avalon felt despair rise inside of her at the thought. Skyresh was more than a great leader. Again, she felt the throb of the connection between them. That strange, inexplicable bond.
Their destinies were bound together. She was sure of it.
***
The journey back had been swifter than the journey to the High Area.
It was as they rode into a settlement, long after leaving Farric, that Avalon had seen him. She couldn’t quite believe it, and she had to squint to see if it was true, or whether she was hallucinating.
A man, standing on the side of a road drinking from his water flagon. A horse stood next to him. He was covered in mud and looked weary. But it was definitely him. Everard Varr.
He saw her at the same moment. Their eyes met, and then he was running towards her. She halted the horse and dismounted. Her heart started thudding. The two guardians who accompanied her watched in silence.
“Everard,” she whispered. “Is it really you?”
He gazed down at her. “Yes, it’s really me. Oh, Avalon, I thought that you were dead!”
He reached out, taking her hand. “When we we
re separated, all that I could think of was you, and trying to find you.”
“I was captured,” she said.
“I know,” he whispered. “Eventually I got back to Vyheim Castle, and the commander told me that they thought it was you, leading a group of rebels to the safe house.” He paused. “I was heading there to see if it was really you and to help you if it was.”
Avalon noticed his bandaged arm. “You were injured?”
He stared at her. “Yes. An arrow. I almost died from it, but I was lucky and a guardian found me.”
Avalon nodded. “Praise Agnor you are safe and well,” she said.
They led the horses to an inn and sat down. Everard ordered ales for them all. The two guardians sat at another table, a distance away. When they had their drinks, he turned to her once again. His dark eyes were shining.
“I have been dreaming of this moment,” he whispered to her. “You are as beautiful as I remembered, Avalon.”
Avalon stared at him. “Everard…”
“My feelings are strong,” he continued. “Avalon, the thought of you killed or captured almost drove me mad. I know that we always had a fiery relationship and that things didn’t start off well between us, but things have changed. I find that I admire you above all other women.”
Avalon continued staring at him. What was he saying? Yes, they had grown closer during their mission. She had learned to trust him, and she could admit that she was attracted to him. Maybe if things had gone differently, she would have been open to what he was saying.
But things had gone differently. Everything had changed. She wasn’t the person that he thought she was anymore. And she couldn’t tell him that. Everard was still a passionate guardian of the realm. He would betray her in an instant, if he knew what lay in her heart.
And, at the back of her mind, was the image of Skyresh. His vivid blue eyes shone in her vision. She could see the tattoos on his neck, the marks of his calling, the calling of a warrior to a true cause.
“I can see that I have overwhelmed you,” Everard said, frowning. “I have spoken too soon. Forget what I have just said, Avalon. We will concentrate on getting you back to Vyheim Castle, and then we shall see.” He paused. “Can you give me some hope, Avalon?”
Avalon blushed. “I am weary, Everard,” she said, taking a long sip of her ale. “It has been tough. You have surprised me. I am very fond of you…”
Everard put up his hand. “We will speak of it no more,” he said. “I hope to prove to you that I am worthy of you, but I will not pressure you.” He sipped his ale. “The commander will be so proud of you, Avalon. Tell me, are the rebels caught?”
Avalon felt tears spring to her eyes. Be careful, she told herself fiercely. He must not suspect.
“Yes,” she answered eventually. “They are to be transferred to a camp and executed.” She couldn’t stop a small shudder at the thought. “It is Gwalen, and some of his people.”
“Gwalen?” He sat higher in his seat. “You managed to get the rebel leader? Avalon, you will be commended, I have no doubt of it. This is a major coup.”
She nodded, trying to smile. “I do not care for commendations, Everard.”
He gazed at her, frowning. “Why not? It will advance your career. The sky is the limit for you, Avalon! You are one of the best guardians the realm has ever seen.”
She smiled, weakly. “Thank you, Everard.”
“Are you able to locate their base?” he asked. “Did they take you to their hideout?”
She shook her head quickly. “No. I never saw where their hideout is.” She held her breath as she finished the lie, staring at him.
“No matter,” he said. “It would have been good to know, but you have done more than enough.”
“Do you know where the political camp is located?” she asked, holding her breath.
Everard shook his head. “No one knows,” he said. “But don’t worry. I have heard it is more secure than the palace. Gwalen and his people will never escape.”
She smiled, again. Everard must never know, that was certain. Impatience surged through her. She had to find a way to free Skyresh, but it was going to be even more difficult than she imagined.
***
Finally, Agnor walked through the gates behind the guards. His black velvet robe trailed through the snow. She could see the familiar gold coronet perched on his head. He was a large man, so large that he was almost a giant.
Avalon watched him impassively. The great leader. The benevolent ruler. All lies. Once, she would have been overcome with nervousness at the thought of meeting him. Now, she felt disgust. He had orchestrated all of this. Calculatingly. He oppressed the people and killed them— all the while claiming that it was just or lying about it.
He stepped up onto the stage, reaching the podium, and raised his hands to the crowd.
“Hail Agnor!” they cried as one.
Then he turned and walked towards her. Avalon could see that his eyes were grey. They stared at her fiercely beneath heavy eyebrows. He held out his hand, and she took it, bowing.
“So,” he said. “You are the young woman whom I have been hearing so much about.”
Chapter Twelve
Everard gazed at the stage in Grey Square, watching Agnor walk up to Avalon. He watched as the benevolent ruler spoke to her briefly. Avalon answered, a polite smile on her face.
Outwardly, everything seemed right. Avalon was acting exactly as she should. She was polite and deferential, accepting the honor being bestowed on her in a humble way, but something didn’t add up for Everard. He frowned, watching her.
It could be nervousness, of course. This was a great honor, and she was being watched and judged by many. It could overwhelm even the steeliest of warriors. He had watched this ceremony a few times before, when he had come into the city. Sometimes, large men trembled when confronted by the sight of the huge crowd and then almost fell to pieces at meeting Agnor. So, Avalon could be beset by nerves.
His frown deepened. Somehow, he didn’t think so; at least, not in this instance. She seemed calm—almost too calm. Surely, he would sense some of the excitement that she must be feeling? This was a very big deal. Not everyone was commended in such a fashion, especially one so young and who had barely started her life as a Grey Guard. He knew that if it was him standing on that stage, meeting the great Agnor, he would be jubilant.
She did not seem happy.
He had noticed it immediately. As soon as he saw her, riding through the settlement in the Far North, flanked by the two guardians. Yes, she had been pleased to see him, but she seemed…distracted, somehow, as if she was not quite in the present moment, as if her mind was far, far away.
He had mentioned it to Commander Kallio, a few days after they had reached Vyheim Castle.
“Yes, I have noticed that, too,” the commander had said. “But it is not unusual, Guardian Varr. She was captured and has been living with the rebels – it is hard to re-adjust after such an occurrence. I have seen it in other guardians. We do not know what they did to her, or what she had to do to assimilate with them.” He had paused. “I will offer her some counselling.”
But Avalon had refused the offer, saying that she was fine and didn’t need it.
Agnor walked back to the podium. The crowd hushed.
“Citizens,” the great ruler boomed. “We are here to commend the brave actions of this Grey Guard. Guardian Avalon Lund, through her quick thinking, has brought about the capture of a rebel leader in the Far North and other rebels. She did so at great personal risk for the glory of the realm.” He turned to Avalon, who walked slowly to the podium, standing beside him. “For this service to Agnoria, Guardian Lund, it is my very great pleasure to award you with the Grey Ribbon.”
He turned to Avalon, pinning the Ribbon to her chest. Avalon smiled and thanked him. The crowd cheered wildly. Avalon turned to the crowd, raising her hand in the eternal gesture. The crowd gestured back.
“Hail Agnor!” The cry was deafe
ning.
Everard watched as Avalon smiled at the crowd, then slowly turned and walked back to her appointed seat. He watched her face carefully. From the moment that she sat down, it was as if the light in her eyes had gone. She did not look back at the crowd. She did not look at Agnor. She gazed instead at the sky, seemingly far away.
Everard’s senses prickled. Something was wrong with her. He realized suddenly what it was. Her passion was gone. This young woman, who was always so brimming with enthusiasm and fire, seemed like a shell of her former self. Not many would notice, of course. She hid it very well. But he did. He knew her – he had competed with her at the Academy, and he shared his very first mission with her.
He loved her.
Everard felt his hands balling into fists. She had not wanted to discuss it when he had declared his feelings for her. He had known that she was exhausted and hadn’t pushed it. He had thought that the malaise that seemed to have infected her was just a reaction to what had happened. She had been through a lot. She would soon be her former self.
Now, he wasn’t so sure. He had tried to talk about her time with the rebels, but every time he broached it, she had stared at him and changed the subject. He had wanted to know what Gwalen was like, but her face had tensed at the very mention of the rebel leader, and she struggled to tell him anything.
What had the rebels done to her?
The ceremony was ending. The ministers stood up, and the musicians seated in a box to the side of the stage took their cue. The anthem started playing. For the first time in his life, Everard mouthed the words to the sacred song, not really attending to it. The final strains of the tune drifted into the air, and the crowd started dispersing.
Everard didn’t move. He watched as Agnor and the ministers filed off the stage, one by one. A guardian came up to Avalon and whispered something to her. She nodded and followed the man off the stage and through a side entrance into the palace. The stage was empty.
Why was she going into the palace? Perhaps there was a celebratory luncheon planned. He wouldn’t know. He was not privy to it. For the first time since all of this had happened, Everard felt envy. What he wouldn’t give to be in Avalon’s shoes, but she didn’t seem capable of appreciating it.