“Maybe…but if Xantilor’s wing had mended in time for the battle, I could have flown him to another country out of their reach…”
“Xantilor’s wing hadn’t mended. And if it had, and you’d got him away, you’d have been a renegade, never able to come back. He wasn’t worth that. Please, Tor, don’t worry about him. Going by what Drewitt told me, Skardroft died happy with you there.” It was not necessary to tell her Drewitt’s opinion of this. Tor looked up at him, a little comforted. Barlanik smiled. “Mark you, you’d have made a fine outlaw, hiring out your sword and dragon to the highest bidder. I can just imagine you. But I’d have missed you.”
He got up and held out his hand to her, and they started to stroll round the battlements’ walkway, looking out over the city under the stars.
“You know, I used to think you were in love with Kerris,” said Barlanik, his eyes on the view. “You always got on so well together, and then when Jervaid left, I saw you were upset, do you remember? I thought it was because Kerris turned out to have set his heart on Linet.”
“Kerris? No, we’re friends, we always have been.”
“I thought one day he’d get over her, and you’d be there waiting for him.” He glanced sideways at her. “So it must have been Jervaid – I’m right, aren’t I? You were hurt because you loved Jervaid.”
“Not any more. He’s with Linet, and I’ve sort of grown out of him anyway. I can’t help liking him, though; he’s nicer than people think. I know you didn’t like Linet going off with him, but they’ll probably be all right. She must love him a lot.”
Barlanik frowned. “I’m more worried about whether he loves her. What is it about Jervaid? Kerris is a much better man, there’s no comparison. I always hoped he’d marry Linet. I thought I knew her so well, but I didn’t at all, I can see that now. It makes me wonder if I understand anyone.”
“What about me? Do you understand me?”
He turned to face her, looking into her eyes with love and hesitation. “You’re so young…I’m eleven years older than you…”
“I don’t come in an older version. This is how I am, if you want me.”
“Tor, of course I want you, and I always will.”
A wave of happiness rushed through Tor; she felt as though she was fizzing, like champagne. She looked up at him, her eyes shining in the dark, her expression fleetingly reminding him of when he had made her Dragon Master.
“That’s good,” she said, and he took her into his arms and kissed her.
For both of them, it felt like coming home at last.
CHAPTER 33
Tying loose ends
King Urquin arrived in Tarragon two days later to take up the reins of his kingdom once more. Barlanik went with Gwenderith to meet him and helped him down from his carriage, shocked and saddened to see how old and frail he was. He had shrunk in on himself; his skin had a translucent look, and his hair was white.
Urquin hugged his daughter, his only child now, for a long time. He leaned on Barlanik’s arm until they reached the stateroom, then Gwenderith left them alone to talk. Urquin sat in a chair and looked about him while he recovered his breath.
“Much better decorated than it was in my day.” Even his voice had aged, and become thin and reedy. “You wouldn’t remember it, it’s too long ago. It used to be very plain.”
“It’s good to see you back in your palace where you belong, Sire.”
Urquin gave a small smile and leaned forward. “I wouldn’t say this to anyone else, but for me it’s come too late. I’m too old, too tired. And please don’t think that means I’m not grateful to you for making it possible for me to be here.”
Barlanik tried to rally him. “You feel that now, Urquin, because you have the grief of Edric’s death on your mind; you’ve been ill and are not yet fully recovered. Once you have your health back, I’m sure you will view it differently.”
“You may be right, but I doubt it. Calambria needs someone with strength and energy to run it, to set it straight after Skardroft’s tyranny. I had hoped that once it was mine again, Edric would take over, and now part of the cost of getting back here turns out to have been Edric’s life.”
“You have heard he saved the life of one of my officers; he noticed the sniper when no one else did, and acted selflessly with speed and courage. You must be proud of the way he died.”
“My son and heir. What am I to do now?” He paused and looked at his old friend. “You know, Barlanik, I regard you as a son; I will speak frankly. Gwenderith, I believe, admires you; if you married her I would be more than happy to make you my heir. You would make a fine King.”
Barlanik hated to disappoint him. In passing, it struck him as ironic that both he and Tor had been offered the same kingdom by different people, and neither had wanted it. Had they been interested, they would now be rivals.
“I’m afraid, Sire, that’s not possible. My choice lies elsewhere, and so, I think, does Gwenderith’s. But consider, although you have lost a son, you still have a daughter. Why not make her your heir? I think perhaps her looks draw attention away from the fact that she is both intelligent and able. Why not let her be Queen in due course? You have time before you to train her in kingship; I think you would be pleasantly surprised how quickly she would learn.”
“A woman on the throne…” Urquin shook his head dubiously. “I’ll give it some thought, since it is you who suggests it…”
Barlanik smiled, and said no more for the moment. He was confident that the idea would grow on Urquin, particularly once he met Farren; if she had a consort of the calibre of Farren, Urquin would come to believe Gwenderith capable of running Calambria.
It was one of the last days of summer when Kerris rode up the tree-lined avenue that led to Jervaid’s parents’ home. The house, when it came in view, was extensive, low and rambling, its walls of soft red brick covered in wisteria. Gardens surrounded it, and trees screened a stable block to one side. Beyond the grounds were vineyards. It was all more substantial than Kerris had expected; it had not occurred to him that Jervaid was wealthy.
He tethered his horse and went up the shallow curving steps to the front door. The servant made him wait, then showed him into a large room overlooking the garden at the back of the house. Jervaid’s parents were there; the mother pretty, a little faded, the father severe and military looking. They offered him a seat, clearly wondering why he had come. Two big dogs came over to sniff at him, wagging their tails, and he stroked their ears.
“I’m Kerris, Barlanik’s second in command.”
They glanced at each other. Kerris did not feel he was entirely welcome.
“Did Barlanik send you?”
“Not exactly; I came to see Linet. She left us rather suddenly, and we’ve been worried about her. Now the war is over, I’d just like a word with her to see how she is.”
“You are not going to take her away?”
“Not unless she wants to come.”
This sounded to Kerris somewhat blunt after he’d said it, as though he thought Linet needed rescuing from the home of this eminently respectable couple; but at the same time, that was indeed his errand. If Linet had had a change of heart, and wanted to return, he would be only too glad to take her. Jervaid’s parents looked at each other again.
“Jervaid is out hunting at the moment, but Linet is in her room,” the woman said. “I’ll go and fetch her. Kerris, was it?”
In her absence the two men shared an awkward silence. Jervaid’s father looked the sort of man who would have approved of Skardroft as just the strong leader the country needed. Kerris decided not to mention the war.
“Beautiful place you have here.”
“Yes,” said Jervaid’s father. He fixed Kerris with a stern eye. “We’re very fond of Linet, you know. Best thing that could have happened to Jervaid, finding her. I hope you’re not going to unsettle her and make her unhappy.”
“You can understand, sir, that her friends and her brother are concerned about h
er. She didn’t tell Barlanik she was going; naturally he was upset.”
“Surprised he didn’t come himself, then,” said Jervaid’s father, giving him a piercing look. “You’re not a member of the family?”
“Just a friend.”
The door opened and Linet came in. Kerris stood up, his heart beating faster; she smiled her sweet shy smile at him. She did not say anything about his scar. Jervaid’s mother suggested that Linet might like to show her visitor the gardens. Accepting with alacrity, Kerris saw that her husband did not think this necessary, and would have preferred to make Kerris say anything he had to say in front of him.
Linet led him down paths fragrant with summer flowers, away from the house. He tried to keep the good side of his face towards her. She was even prettier than he remembered.
“It’s nice of you to come, Kerris. How is Barlanik? Is he cross with me?”
“He’s not cross with you. He blames himself for not taking better care of you. He’s fine.”
“And you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Was anyone hurt in the battle? Is Tor all right, and her dragon?”
“They’re fine.”
“And Drewitt?”
Kerris stopped and faced her. “Linet, I can’t believe you care what’s happening to Drewitt, and I certainly don’t. I came to see you and find out how you are.”
“I’m fine.” They both smiled. “No, really, I’m very happy.”
Kerris swallowed. “And Jervaid? Is he looking after you?”
“Oh yes.”
Having regretted not telling her his feelings before, Kerris had resolved to speak out now. “You know Linet, or maybe you don’t, I’ve loved you for quite a while. I should have told you before. I don’t know why I didn’t. Anyway, I just want to say that if by any chance you’re not happy, I’ll take you away from here, back to Barlanik or anywhere else; and that doesn’t mean you’d be stuck with me if you didn’t want to be, I’d be glad just to help you do what you want.”
“That’s very kind of you, Kerris. But truly, you don’t have to worry about me. Jervaid and I are getting married the day after tomorrow.”
Kerris felt as though the sun had gone in. “That’s what you want to do? Are you quite sure you’re doing the right thing?”
“Yes. I love him.” She looked at Kerris’s doubtful expression, and smiled a gentle, contented smile. “Yes, I’m quite sure.”
Kerris now knew, as certainly as if she had told him, why the wedding was happening so soon. He experienced a momentary desire to smash his fist into Jervaid’s handsome face.
Linet said, “This is my home now, and you must believe me when I say that I have everything I want here; I’m very happy, and I don’t regret my old life at all, except for missing Barlanik.”
That was that, then. Well, he had come to find out, and now he had. They turned with one accord back towards the house.
“Will you invite Barlanik to the wedding?”
“I don’t see how I can. It would be awkward with Jervaid, and Jervaid’s parents were supporters of Skardroft you know, so I can’t think they would welcome him to their house. It’s going to be a quiet wedding.”
They walked on without saying anything. At the door Linet asked Kerris to come in for some refreshment. Shaking his head, he swung himself on to his horse. He had not admitted it to himself, but he had cherished a dream that he would be riding back with Linet, her arms round his waist, leaving Jervaid in her past as a mistake soon to be forgotten by both of them. It was over now; he didn’t expect to see her again. She hadn’t responded at all when he said he loved her. There was nothing left for him to hope for, and his heart ached. Linet looked up at him.
“Give my love to Barlanik, won’t you? Goodbye, Kerris.”
Barlanik took the news about Linet quietly. He had accepted when she left that she had a right to make her own life as she wanted, and it was something to know that so far she had no regrets. Kerris would get over her in time, and meet someone who loved him as he deserved. Meanwhile Barlanik felt too happy to brood for long over his sister.
Kerris said a little to Tor about his feelings; she listened sympathetically but kept her opinion to herself, which was that under a mouse-like exterior Linet had turned out to be very good at getting her own way. She had deserted her brother and settled down with his enemies, enlisted the approval of Jervaid’s parents and succeeded in tying down the footloose Jervaid; and all this with everyone worrying over her and feeling sorry for her. Tor, admittedly partisan, could not forgive her lack of consideration for Barlanik and her rejection of Kerris.
When talk of the wedding got to Raziella, she sniffed.
“Oldest trick in the book, if you want my opinion,” was her only comment.
CHAPTER 34
Pom, Tor, Barlanik...and Corfe
A crisp day in early autumn. Pom stood opposite Tor in the forest clearing, very serious, Quintern’s dagger in his left hand, his new sword, a gift from Barlanik, in his right. He had had a growth spurt, and in his armour looked suddenly older. Xantilor was comfortably curled up watching them, his golden scales shining against the russet leaves.
Tor had spent the morning making Pom practise blocking moves until she was satisfied. He was picking it up quickly, and he worked hard; she was beginning to enjoy teaching him. It took her back to her childhood.
“That’s enough for today, but just before we go I want you to use the blocking moves, and then try to hit me. It’s what we’ll be doing tomorrow, but if you have a taste of it now you can be thinking about it. I’m going to come at you, and I want you to anticipate me, block me with your dagger and then try to hit me with your sword. Don’t worry about hurting me; I’m not going to let you. Go.”
Pom came at Tor, hesitantly at first, because she was not wearing armour or a helmet and his weapons were razor-sharp, but he soon found out that there was no possibility of getting anywhere near her; it took his utmost efforts not to be driven back or have his sword flipped from his grasp. By the time Tor told him to stop he realized just how far he had to go before he could be a Knight. Tor, however, was pleased with him.
“Pom, that’s great. Well done. Let’s get back.”
Xantilor got up and stretched. They climbed on to his back and flew up and over the forest to the Castle. Sometimes Tor let Pom fly alone on Xantilor, which he felt was good preparation for when a dragon of his own chose him. Pom now occupied the second turret in the Dragon Tower, to his extreme satisfaction. As he had predicted, his mother had come to accept his being a squire, feeling happier about it now that the war was over.
Life, he thought, could not get much better – except when he won his black dagger, years in the future, and was one of the Hundred Knights.
Tor left Pom to unsaddle Xantilor and went to find Barlanik. He was sitting reading by the window overlooking the grass and trees. Tor came and sat on the arm of his chair, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright from the chilly air. She kissed the top of his head.
“Pom’s going to be good, I can tell already. You must come and watch him again. And you know Xantilor’s wing – for the first time, I really felt it was back to normal today.”
He put his arm around her and pulled her to him. “Excellent. Your hair smells delicious, of bonfires. I’ve been thinking, we should get married.”
“You wouldn’t expect me to start cooking or sewing, would you?” Tor asked cautiously.
“Can you cook or sew?”
“No.”
“Better stick to riding dragons and fighting, then. I like you the way you are.” He looked closer. “Is that my shirt you’re wearing?”
“Yes. It looks good on me, doesn’t it?”
“Mmm. Perhaps I could borrow it back now and then…”
Tor smiled. “For you, Barlanik, anything.”
Corfe’s eyes opened. For the first time for…how long, he had no idea, he was fully awake. There was a dull insistent pain in his head and he was parche
d with thirst. He felt weak. Through the open window came voices of people passing in the street, and the thin curtains moved in the breeze. He was lying in bed in a totally strange room, with no memory of how he came to be there. As he went to sit up, the unfamiliar room spun. When it had settled, he reached for a cup of water on the table beside the bed. After drinking every last drop he lay back, trying to think. How had he got here, why was he in this state?
He could remember a boy…
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www.lexirevellian.com
AUTHOR’S NOTE
If you have enjoyed reading Torbrek, you may want to read the sequel.
TRAV ZANDER
Trav Zander is a freelance solver of problems. His latest job, for a fee of fifty thousand ducats, is to locate the dragon in the mountains, and bring it to Carl of Thrales, recent inheritor of the kingdom of Ser. Carl wants the ultimate weapon; a warrior dragon. And if he puts Zander in the dungeons instead of paying him, it won’t cost him a penny…
On the run from Carl, Trav encounters Tor, the only female Knight, who disguises herself as a remarkably inept palace maid to spy in Ser; Gun Morpeth, the flamboyant mountain bandit, and Carl’s chilling agent Corfe (areas of expertise: investigation, coercion, and torture).
Trav Zander UK
Trav Zander US
I’ve also written two contemporary novels.
REMIX
Caz Tallis restores rocking horses in her London workshop. When shabby but charismatic Joe and his dog turn up on her roof terrace, she is reluctantly drawn into investigating a rock star’s murder from three years before – an unsolved case the police have closed. Which, as her best friend James says, is rather like poking a furnace with a short stick…
Torbrek...and the Dragon Variation (The Torbrek Trilogy) Page 29