by Phil Parker
My ears rang, my eyes stung but I allowed myself to breathe again, it looked like we had escaped. The road in front of us was a black ribbon that led towards a sky turning from purple into a dusky pink and empty of Cernunnos’ soldiers.
‘Where are we heading?’ I called out, the ringing in my ears lessening slightly. ‘I hope you can think of somewhere to hide because the only people I know who could help, we’ve just left behind.’
I couldn’t hear her reply so I turned around, in case she was having the same trouble.
Darcel lay on the floor, her trousers covered in blood. At her feet, dangling half on, half off the back of the cart was a dead soldier, sword still in hand and her knife in his chest. I waited until we turned a corner and were out of sight of the palace before stopping to find out the extent of the wound.
‘Can’t stop now,’ she said. She winced. ‘Got. To keep. Moving.’
‘But I need to get you help.’
Except I wasn’t a medic and knew nothing about dealing with wounds. I was helpless. Useless. I knelt next to her, staring at the blood saturating her trousers.
‘Give me. Handkerchief,’ she gasped.
I did as I was told. She tied it tightly around her leg, wincing even more.
‘Get going!’ she snapped impatiently.
Her eyes showed her pain but they held enough strength of character to make me continue the journey. I drove, one eye on the road ahead and the other on Darcel. In an hour I’d gone from being the powerful High Lord of the Dark Court to an escaping political refugee, desperate for a physician who could stop the woman I loved bleeding to death.
Chapter 20
Islene burst in to my study, for a small woman she could create a lot of noise.
‘He’s here, highness!’
Her expressions flashed through excitement to trepidation and all points in between. She must have noticed my irritation because she took a breath and calmed herself.
‘He’s brought a dozen guards with him.’ A hesitant breath. ‘Nemean lion-men.’
I’d expected nothing less but his choice of personal security meant he anticipated trouble and he wasn’t going to leave himself vulnerable. I looked around the room at the others. Sibeal gently rocked little Granuaile in her arms and smiled at the sleeping baby, though I knew it hid her fear of our plans going wrong.
Robin Goodfellow stared out of a window. He’d said little, even when Luke started conversations, he was another whose face told me nothing. Luke was different, he prowled around my little study, picking up books, flicking through them only to put them down again seconds later. For such a big man his actions made the room feel small and they added to the tension, until Mister Goodfellow snapped at him to sit down.
Clodagh sat quietly in the corner reading Taranis’ notebook. It was a deliberate trigger we hoped would provoke him into saying or doing something irrational. I doubted it would work, the bastard was too calculating to fall for such an obvious ploy but I was ready to try anything. I had an awful feeling in my stomach our plans were going to go hopelessly wrong, not least because I couldn’t trust the man staring out the window. I glanced at the uneasy figure of the tall man sat on a chair that was too small for him and allowed myself a little smile, it was strange how I placed greater faith in him, a human being. I didn’t know how it had happened but I dismissed the thought, it was irrelevant and I realised the others were waiting for me to reply.
‘I assume Petroc is aware?’
Islene nodded tersely. I wondered who had informed whom.
‘Tell Petroc I will receive Lord Taranis in the Silver Reception Room. However, his guards will need to remain outside. So that he is sufficiently reassured, he is to tell Taranis that I will not have any palace security in the room either.’
Islene nodded tersely. ‘Apart from Petroc. He is the arbiter who ensures peace within the palace itself.’
She turned smartly and left. I stood up and led the way through the white corridors of the palace where open windows caused silver-hued lace curtains to waft in the warm breeze. No one spoke. We all knew our roles. We also knew Taranis could trick us one more time. We had our plans, it was inconceivable Taranis wouldn’t have his.
Islene waited for us and gave me a discreet nod to let me know my father had acquiesced to my request. He’d laid claim to the room for a social gathering with his cronies, prompted by a significant birthday for one of them, I’d persuaded him to use the ballroom instead. It lacked the light, the view and the prestige but they were going to drink themselves into oblivion so I reasoned such factors hardly mattered.
I took up my position in front of the balconied window, with Sibeal on my right, Clodagh on my left in comfortable chairs I’d had brought in especially, normally the room was devoid of furniture. This was a place for formal greetings, to be seated spoke of informality, something my grandmother had always refused to accept. It conveyed an important lie to the bastard I was about to entertain; we were relaxed. Behind us Luke and Islene would stand as passive observers, Mister Goodfellow too. At least for now. Petroc posted himself at the door.
Taranis had dressed to impress. He wore a tight-fitting suit that emphasized the lines of his body in a black material I didn’t recognise; in a room defined by its light, he’d chosen darkness. There was nothing accidental about that decision. He wore his usual smirk but there was also tension he couldn’t hide the moment he spotted Goodfellow, who eyed the man without any visible emotion. Taranis opened his mouth to speak before he’d bowed, we were dispensing with etiquette it seemed. Fine, I wasn’t going to be intimidated by this man.
‘Nemean lion-men eh? You must feel insecure.’
His expression faltered for less than a second but the fact that it did told me a great deal. Score one to me.
‘We live with the danger of assassins striking at any time, as the High Lord of the Dark Court discovered. I understand you have also been attacked.’ I held my breath, we’d kept Goodfellow’s actions secret, at least I hoped we had. ‘In your bedroom, as well. Not a place for such excitement, is it Highness?’
‘Indeed.’ He was an idiot if he thought I’d get provoked so easily. ‘As you can see, Mistress Sibeal is present. Where is your part of our bargain?’
He didn’t even glance at the mother of his child, his eyes remained firmly on mine.
‘Filidea, my dear,’ he knew how that rankled me. ‘In any card game it is foolish to display your hand before you’ve made your first bid.’
Now he glanced over at Sibeal, but only as a gesture for what he said next.
‘I’m not surprised your genteel upbringing means you’re not a gambler. Still, let’s hope this first mis-step is your last, eh?’
He waited for me to reply. I stared at him. It was peevish but I knew he was right.
‘If you will permit me to have my guest brought in? He does need help, I hope you don’t mind if two of my guards provide it?’
He waited for my agreement, I steeled myself for what was about to happen. I worried how Goodfellow would react if Oisin mistreatment was as bad as Taranis implied. I hoped there would be some self-control applied, though I wasn’t optimistic.
Two Nemean lion-men entered the room to Taranis’s summons. Oisin staggered between them, his arms over their shoulders, head lolling to one side. Pain was obvious in his facial expression and the tension in his body, though I couldn’t see any injuries. His clothes were filthy, tear stains formed clean streaks across his dirty face. He was alert enough to scan the room, he smiled when he saw Sibeal. When he noticed Goodfellow his eyes widened in surprise. Fear followed hard on its heels and I understood why.
Goodfellow remained still as a statue, his face a mask.
Taranis watched my expression, obviously expecting another tirade but I had no intention of cooperating, no matter how horrified I felt inside. Sibeal was on her feet now, I heard her gasp.
‘You evil bastard!’ she said through clenched teeth, but softly enough so as not to wak
e the baby in her arms.
Taranis’s smirk widened.
‘Is that any way to speak to your husband?’ His tone was light and full of mockery.
Thereby playing straight into my hands.
‘Except there is no evidence to suggest she is your wife. She has no memory of it, which makes any ceremony illegal if it was conducted when she was not fully aware. There have been no papers lodged with the High Magistrate’s office either. Therefore, no evidence to confirm your assertion. According to our laws, there is no proof to establish your claim to the baby in Sibeal’s arms.’
Taranis’s eyes hardened, it was the only change in his expression.
‘A simple blood test for paternity will suffice,’ he purred.
Sibeal replied, on cue. ‘Except I do not give my permission, which is necessary for such a procedure to be carried out on my child.’
Taranis’s cold blue eyes scanned the assembly in front of him, lingering on Goodfellow’s a little longer than it should. He turned slightly, to address the two guards.
‘You had better return my guest, it appears we’ve come here on a fool’s errand.’
‘Halt!’ I called out with every bit of authority I could marshal. The lion-men paused, glanced at their master but Petroc and Islene were already level with their charge.
‘Oisin is a member of my staff. You have assaulted him. He will remain here so we can attend to his injuries and his welfare.’
That did manage to surprise Taranis. I appeared to be admitting to spying on him. I could see him try to fathom my strategy but without an answer he pressed his attack.
‘Yet he was found on my land, spying. Therefore, I am within my rights…’
‘He was on official business, at my request.’ Taranis’s smugness began to swell as I continued confessing my transgression. ‘Your treatment of my representative has broken several protocols which I shall prosecute unless Oisin is released now.’
‘You admit to spying on me then?’ I swear his grin couldn’t get any wider.
‘Not at all. He was sent to interview you.’
Those cold eyes looked blank for just long enough to make me smile to myself.
‘You see,’ I continued so as not to allow him to recover, ‘I wanted to find out what information you could supply on the attacks against high-ranking personnel in both Courts.’
Taranis’s eyes narrowed. He scanned the room a second time, turned to the two lion-men last of all. I’d banked on him not wanting them gossiping about what was coming next when they got home, I felt relieved when he gave them a curt dismissal. Petroc and Islene hurried over to support Oisin, Clodagh rose from her chair so they could sit him down. It gave me chance to assess Goodfellow’s reactions. There were none. He watched his lover helped to the chair but made no effort to help. That worried me.
Meanwhile Taranis ignored the others and remained focused on my face, he was busy trying to work out where I was taking this topic next. He would be aware of losing ground and, like a snake, that made him all the more dangerous.
‘I wonder what information I could possibly supply, highness?’ His voice had resumed its usual purr.
I gave him a shrug of indifference. ‘You are a scientist. You will have the best understanding of the methods needed to control the actions of another person. Such as poor Lord Rowly and the man who tried to kill me.’ The latter part was a lie but Taranis blinked as I said it, he knew it wasn’t true. He recovered quickly, when he spoke it was with such a calm voice it could have been smothered in oil.
‘Such methods are beyond my expertise, highness. If you had only asked your question in a more direct manner, you could have saved your man considerable hardship.’
I glared at the man in a pretence of anger as I tried to summon the right words and waited for the pantomime to begin.
‘Then how do you explain what you did to me, you bastard?’
Goodfellow strode out from behind the rest of us, his voice like a clarion that echoed around the room. Taranis reacted quite visibly, he took a step backwards until he recovered some of his bluster, even then he couldn’t hide his fear. He knew what the man approaching him could do.
‘You programmed me to kill, didn’t you? You tortured me for days to prepare my mind, you told me as much.’
Taranis’s retaliation lacked his usual bravado. He held back, he didn’t know what Goodfellow could do, and that worried him.
‘I interrogated you Master Goodfellow, to find out why you had brought a human into our realm.’ He turned to me. ‘I am entitled to challenge the actions of a man who has been exiled from our realm, whose loyalty is in question and who has introduced an enemy into our midst. I will testify as much to the High Magistrate.’
The purr and the smug expression returned but there was tension on his face too.
‘I will also need to inform him that you appear to be entertaining both of them in the Light Palace. Is this what you do now? You consort with criminals and enemies of the realm? When I announce my observations I’m sure it will cause widespread panic amongst the population. I am surprised, your father, the High Lord permits such behaviour. Assuming he knows about it.’
He didn’t but I maintained a carefully composed expression while Goodfellow carried out the next stage of our plan, with the question we’d agreed.
‘Who have you programmed me to kill? Tell me! Who was it Taranis?’
If we needed any visual evidence of the bastard’s guilt it was that moment. He blinked hard as he realised his instructions had not been carried out and the trigger word had been spoken too. We’d taken great care not to use his name until that point. There was a second, perhaps two, when his thought process led him to one conclusion, the one we hoped he would reach. And act upon. His last chance to deliver the verbal trigger to attack me. I’d reasoned it had to be an attractive proposition, he could blame my death on the exiled maniac, take the baby from Sibeal and appear to be the hero.
In those two seconds, everyone tensed.
‘I don’t know what you mean Goodfellow. Are you well? You look confused. Do you even know who I am?
I held my breath.
‘I am Lord Taranis.’
Goodfellow reacted to the verbal trigger as we’d planned, his body went rigid, like a soldier standing to attention, he spasmed, shook as though an electrical current had been passed through his body. He fixed Taranis with a manic stare and screamed a battlecry.
And leapt at him.
Taranis looked astonished as he defended himself. Goodfellow headbutted the other man’s chest and knocked him to the ground, flung himself on to the man’s chest. Taranis tried to dislodge his assailant by writhing underneath him. His words were heard by all of us, even though they were meant to be a whisper.
‘Not me, you idiot! Not me!’
Luke and Petroc joined the chaos on the floor, grappling crazed limbs, Islene made a show of bringing out her knife which she held at Goodfellow’s throat so they could finally restrain him.
The performance was coming to an end. Now for the curtain call.
‘Admit it, Taranis,’ and I spoke the verbal trigger loud enough to make the bastard look at his attacker with genuine fear, ‘you are responsible for these attacks. Admit it or I will order the release of this lunatic to continue with your bidding.’
Taranis struggled to his knees, rubbing his chest.
‘Why would I have him attack me if I was responsible?’
‘Something went wrong clearly. You have underestimated your control of this man’s mind. He killed Llyr, he must be unhinged.’
I could see my argument working, he was starting to doubt himself.
‘Where are my guards. I demand…’
‘Ten seconds Taranis, otherwise…’
He looked up at me, I held out ten fingers and closed them one at a time.
‘You wouldn’t dare. I am a lord of the realm. You would not dare.’
I took a step forward. ‘You are a sadistic bastard who r
apes women and tortures people for your own ambition, you are not worthy of such a title!’
He scowled as he watched my countdown limit itself to one hand.
‘You fucking stupid little bitch!’ he snapped as he scrambled to his feet. By then some of his demeanour had changed. He glared at Goodfellow, who pretended to be held in the clutches of the others but then his gaze fell on me. My countdown reached one but he made no effort to react to it. Left with no alternative I hesitated.
‘Duress.’ He spoke the word as his top lip curled.
Inevitably I frowned my confusion, it was enough for him to continue.
‘In law, any confession obtained under duress is inadmissible evidence.’ A pause. ‘Threatening me with violence, even death, is duress.’
I looked at the others who stood as wide-eyed and helpless as I felt. He smiled.
‘Do you think someone like you, who should return to library shelves, are a match for me? Let me explain what will happen now. You will hand over the child. I will leave. Try anything like this pantomime again and I will ruin you, and your family. Not only do you harbour exiled murderers and human spies, you threaten the life of a lord of the realm.’
He’s used a gambling metaphor earlier and I knew about such games to recognise he held all the cards. I was helpless. I felt tears approach and fought them back.
‘I doubt that pathetic apology for a man who fathered you will be aware of what you staged here. It is within my legal right to have him impeached for playing host to criminals and using them to threaten me.’ Taranis grinned. ‘Who knows, with my fertility discovery the Light Court may select me for the vacant role.’
Sibeal stepped forward, she held her baby close to her chest, it mewled softly.
‘You will not take my child for me.’
Taranis lifted a scornful eyebrow. ‘Oh but I will. And your singularly plain-faced friend will make sure of it. Because she understands how high the stakes are in this game we play.’