Reckoning

by T. J. Michaels

  Rhia watched him closely. He wasn’t afraid, but rather seemed to be contemplating. But contemplating what? She took the letter from his steady hands and examined the seal. She was actually disappointed that it looked authentic.

  So much for a reason to kick Bryan out of my home... again.

  Her brow furrowed as she quickly read the letter from top to bottom, then went wide as she read it over again. Pinning Bryan with an angry glare, she practically snarled her words at him.

  “Who else has read this?”

  “I have, my lady,” Ewan said quietly from over her shoulder. “The seal was intact when he arrived at the gate. It was I who opened it that I might judge whether he should be allowed to pass through.”

  She turned to Ewan, her eyes still on the letter as she murmured, “I understand.” Looking back to Bryan she asked, “Do you have any idea what’s in this letter?”

  “No. My father only said it was urgent. I was to give it to your husband, but was told at the gate that he’s not here.”

  Rhia didn’t bother hiding her skepticism, but before she could question him further, he brought her up short. “Though not always in his good graces, I am still a Collaidh. Why wouldn’t my father trust his son to deliver something important?”

  Well, he had her there. A deep frown creased the skin between her brows as she looked away from Bryan and tried to keep her emotions together. The room was completely silent except for the soft patter of Rhia’s short boots on the marble floor. Finally, she turned back to her ‘guest’.

  “Leave us, all of you. Ewan, you can stay, but stand over there,” she said, motioning toward the entrance doors to the hall. “I need some privacy with Bryan, here.”

  Without a sound, the room quickly emptied. Ewan stopped at the great hall entrance and leaned casually against the wall. Rhia knew his casual stance meant nothing. The man was ready to spring at the slightest hint of distress. Rhia motioned Bryan over to the man-sized marble fireplace at the rear of the room.

  “Bryan, my father is gravely ill? How could you be in the High City and not know that?”

  “Before I answer your questions, I owe you an apology.” That caused a wary, raised eyebrow from her. With a much too serene expression on his face, he blew off her surprise and continued. “I was lost without you all those years I was banished to the borders. When I returned to the High City I wanted you so badly I acted improperly.”

  “Improperly? Are you on medication?”

  “No. I mean it, Rhia. Please accept my apology.”

  She didn’t buy it for a minute, but said, “Fine. Now, about my father?”

  “I haven’t been to the Citadel since the night your husband threw me down your stairs.” Rhia couldn’t believe it when the man actually chuckled. She’d never known him to be this mellow. Except when he was trying to manipulate her, of course.

  “Thankfully, my father never heard about that little incident,” he said, rubbing a spot on the back of his head. “I owe you for that. I’ve also been training and working hard. I really want to earn back the trust of the Society of War. And your trust, as well.”

  This was uncomfortable. He was being too nice. She quickly changed the subject. “The letter says my father is so sick he may not last more than another week or so. Obviously, I’ve got to get to him.”

  “I didn’t realize.” He sat down heavily in the nearest chair and looked down at the floor for a moment. He raised his face on a sigh and said, “Look, we can leave as soon as you like.”

  “Keep quiet. These warriors won’t let me out of here with RuArk away.”

  “Perhaps I can ask them, let them know how urgent...”

  “Don’t be stupid,” she hissed when he started to raise his voice and motion toward a deceptively laid-back Ewan at the door. “These are Gaian warriors. They’re loyal to RuArk and his orders overrule everything and anything. And they certainly overrule anything you suggest.”

  “Well, with your husband away, maybe you should just send a note back to your father. I don’t want to be the cause of any problems, Rhia.” Was that a hint of sarcasm in his voice? Perhaps she was so upset about her father’s letter she was being a bit sensitive. Then again, she’d have to be crazy to trust Bryan Collaidh. But what choice did she have? This was her father who was dying. Her only comfort right now was that she’d taken Bryan down once. There was no doubt in her mind that if she needed to, she could thrash him again.

  She paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. Her mind worked furiously, recalling when the warriors changed shifts, where security was lightest and when. What to do? What to do? She glanced toward the door and saw Ewan no longer leaned against the wall. As soon as she’d started pacing, he’d stood at the ready with one hand on the steel blade at his hip. She looked away quickly, schooled her features, and forced her stance into a more relaxed one, hoping he couldn’t see the determination in her eyes.

  “I’ll have to find a way to sneak out,” she said quietly to Bryan. “Return to the gates and tell the men on patrol that you’ve delivered your message and you’ll leave at dawn. I’ll meet you five miles southeast of here just off the main trade road. Be prepared to cut out of here fast if we’re going to get to my father in time. Never mind if any of RuArk’s men, Draeman or Gaian, get wind of me leaving here with you.”

  “No problem. I have an extra horse tethered outside the main gate for any one of your guards, if you want to bring a chaperone.”

  “No, they wouldn’t be able to keep up the pace I plan to set. My father doesn’t have time for that.”

  “I understand. I’ll see you at dawn then. And don’t worry, Rhia, we’ll get there in time. Draema Neine has a train stop two townships over, and there’s room for the horses. It’s how we got here so fast. We can get there in no time.”

  Unfortunately, she’d never been to that depot and had no idea where it was. Committing to blindly following Bryan’s plan wasn’t an option. At least not right now. “We’ll see,” she said.

  He bowed and turned to leave, paused briefly, then looked back at her. When their eyes met, the hair on the nape of her neck stood at full attention. And this was no reaction to someone using the Gifts. It was as if he watched her through someone else’s eyes, his expression vacant, yet assessing, and strangely possessive.

  It was absolutely creepy. Now that she thought about it, it was eerily similar to the look Brita wore earlier when Rhia had scared her in a very busy hallway. As quickly as her keen mind began to analyze, it was gone. Her hackles lowered and she stood wondering what the hell she’d just witnessed.

  There were no answers forthcoming as Bryan left the hall, escorted by a glowering Ewan and a dozen other warriors who melted out of the woodwork.

  Chapter Seven

  Bryan and his men waited exactly five miles southeast of the gates of Province Springs. Rhia waved as she rode swiftly toward them. There were always scouts riding this terrain, and since she had no idea who else was around, she kept her mouth shut until she’d caught up to them.

  Bryan was off his horse in a flash and waited for her. Rhia immediately noticed something different about his party. There weren’t six men with Bryan. There were more like twenty, all well armed. The conciliatory Bryan had obviously been just visiting, and the asshole had returned. How could she tell? Perhaps it was the way he yanked her off of the back of her horse.

  “Bryan, what the...” was as far as she got when the first blow landed on her right cheek, knocking her to the ground. She rolled, came to her feet ready to battle hand to hand when she was brought up short by the point of a very sharp blade at the base of her skull.

  She ducked and spun, drawing her own blade. Her leg extended and caught whoever had come up behind her, and her blade followed quickly, slicing him across the chest. He went down in a heap. She took out four of them in a blink, but there were simply too many ready and willing to take their place. She cursed as Ricard was yanked from behind a tree, his hands bound behind his back a
nd a knife at his throat. Bryan grinned in triumph. Dammit, the bastard knew he’d produced the leverage to make her behave.

  “Make one more move, Rhia, and I’ll order his neck sliced so clean you could put it in a frame and hang it over your mantle.”

  She forced herself out of her fighting stance, and raised a blood tipped sword up in the air, in a sort of half-surrender gesture. She wanted to fight until she couldn’t stand up, and let Ricard handle himself. But training, reasoning and common sense, kicked in. It would be better to find out what was going on here.

  “I’ll drop my weapon if you let him go, Bryan.”

  He laughed! Actually laughed at her. “It’s amazing that you think you’re in control here, Rhia. But I have the whip hand and I won’t hesitate to use it.” And he certainly did have a literal long, slender, well-oiled whip at the ready.

  “So why did you lure me here. And yes, I expect to have my question answered.” She bristled when he said, “I’m taking you back to Draema. Your presence is required.”

  “If my father needed me, why didn’t he send for me? Why is a kidnapping necessary?” Gesturing as she spoke, she took in the men surrounding her, both those lying on the ground bleeding and those still standing and bristling with weapons.

  “I don’t recall saying your father needed you. Actually, I didn’t say much at all. I only delivered a piece of paper. But don’t worry, Rhia. You’ll be well taken care of. All you have to do is come back to the High City and marry me.”

  “Marry you? Are you nuts? I already have a husband, dumb ass.”

  “So what? My father has already made arrangements to have your marriage set aside. You see, we Collaidh’s are ambitious men who intend to rule Draema. So, you’ve become quite necessary.”

  “How the hell do you expect to rule Draema when my father is the High Counsel, you—”

  His fist shot out with a blow that had her reeling before she’d even finished the question.

  Ow, that was stupid. She moved her jaw side to side after another good wallop across her right cheek. She lifted her face—didn’t have to lift it far considering he was barely taller than her—spit a wad of blood at his feet, and glared murderously. “To hell with this,” she snarled and raised her fists to give him a taste of his own medicine.

  But she wasn’t fast enough. As soon as her hands went up, two Draeman soldiers caught and secured them in some pretty effective bonds. With the cords knotted tightly around her wrists and yanked behind her back, she was pushed roughly down to her knees.

  “Well,” Bryan went on smoothly, circling her slowly, deliberately. “I believe I rather like you on your knees. After we’re married, I’ll make sure you’re in that position often.”

  “Oh, please,” she snorted. “Put your cock in my face and you’ll draw back a nub.”

  He raised his fist, but she refused to flinch no matter what he did to her. If she could just get free for a few minutes, she’d give him what she hadn’t had a chance to finish that night in her apartments. The idiot obviously didn’t realize RuArk had actually saved his life by throwing him down the tower stairs. She’d hurt him pretty bad that night, and she knew he would make her pay. And pay. And then pay some more.

  Or at least he’d try.

  “Well, Rhia, if you don’t wish to marry me, you can always marry my father. One Collaidh is as good as another. Either way, we get what we want. You were promised —”

  “Promised? How could I possibly be promised to you or anyone else when my father arranged my marriage to RuArk? You’re blasted deranged.”

  “Call me whatever you want, but there are powers at work here you know nothing about. They’ve set the stage for this little drama, and they do have the means to promise me anything. Including you.”

  The last thing she remembered just before her head exploded with blinding pain was the smile of a wild-eyed Ricard Shae as Bryan cut the man’s bonds and freed his hands.

  Bastards.

  When she came to, it was twilight. Her head throbbed. She reached back to press against the pounding, but couldn’t reach it. As the fog cleared from her brain, she remembered her hands were tied. It took another second or two for her to realize she was also moving, thrown over the back of her horse like a sack of Gaian coffee. Her ribs ached from riding face down over the stiff saddle. Bile rose up in her throat and she grimaced, trying to keep from throwing up.

  Ugh. Wish I’d stayed knocked out.

  Then a slow smile tipped up one side of her swollen mouth. So, they’d had to knock her out to get her on her horse, eh? Cowards. She would have laughed if she hadn’t felt so miserable.

  “Bryan,” she called out weakly. She raised her head as much as she could and gulped in the cooling air in hopes of keeping her stomach from turning inside out. “I have to hurl. Please, stop.”

  Her horse came to a halt and she felt herself hauled off his back. Her knees buckled the second her feet touched solid ground. Harsh retching hammered her belly until there was nothing but dry heaves.

  She looked up to see a concerned Ricard with a flask of iced water. She allowed him to place it to her lips and took a long swallow. She swished and spit into the thick carpet of leaves and twigs and asked for a little more. This one she swallowed, thankful the cool liquid immediately calmed her stomach.

  She mumbled a grateful, but irritated, “Thank you,” as he helped her awkwardly to her feet and to the base of a nearby tree to sit. Ricard made no effort to rescue her, so he obviously wasn’t here to help her. So, why the hell was he here?

  “Rhia, I know you have questions,” Ricard said cautiously as he glanced over his shoulder at Bryan, clearly not wanting to be overheard.

  “What are you doing here, Ricard? Does Brita know where you are?” she whispered.

  “I’m taking you to Draema.”

  “Oh, for goodness sake, not you too?” she growled quietly.

  “Can you keep a secret?”

  Motioning with her head to the traitors surrounding them a distance, she asked, “Who in this lot would I tell, Ricard? And what happened to you? A couple of days after the Noman attacked us, you disappeared.”

  “I let the Noman in.”

  Rhia’s mouth fell open.

  “After that day, someone was always following me around, watching me. At your husband’s order, I’m sure. He’s a very smart man, the Wind Storm. Obviously, I couldn’t afford to be found out, so, I couldn’t hang around once we knew your husband would live.”

  “But why would you let the Noman into my home? I could have been killed, dammit. Me, your sister, Joan, any of us that you’ve known all your life could have died,” she hissed angrily.

  “I had his promise that you would be kept safe.”

  “His promise? Whose promise?” The man was obviously a lunatic.

  “The Dreadlord, of course. He came to me in my dreams. Promised if I let the Noman into Province Springs, they would get rid of that brawny warrior husband of yours.”

  “But to what end, you idiot?”

  “So I could bring you back to Draema to marry me.”

  “Oh, this is ridiculous. I can’t be married to RuArk, promised to you, and promised to Bryan and his father, too.” She’d never heard such outrageous notions in her life. They were all crazy.

  “Bryan only thinks you’re promised to him, but it’s only to get his cooperation. I saw it all in a dream. It’s a ruse.”

  Rhia caught the mad glint in his eye, the gleeful set of his shoulders. She wasn’t even surprised when he quietly crowed with delight. In all the years she’d know this man, Rhia had never imagined he was mad. She kept her mouth shut and let him prattle on about their life together once they got to Draema Proper. How could she have been so stupid to walk into this mess?

  And that left another question—how did Bryan get hold of her father’s official seal to make a letter appear so authentic? Maybe this was the Foreknowledge coming true? Maybe her father was already dead? Her gut cramped at the though
t as she sucked in gulps of air in an attempt not to throw up again.

  As Ricard rambled, she half listened, trying to figure a way out of this.

  Wait a minute.

  A soldier off to her right caught her attention. She recognized him, had in fact, personally trained him a few years back. At least he had the decency to blush and lower his head as he brought her something to eat along with a single skimpy blanket.

  Bryan bellowed for Ricard and he scurried away just as the soldier motioned to her bound hands. Rhia nodded her agreement not to cause any trouble. After carefully releasing her, she accepted the food and took a small bite of grainbread slathered with calmonut butter. She’d forgotten what synthetic Draeman food tasted like.

  Ewww!

  If she was going to get away, she had to keep up her strength so she forced down another mouthful as the soldier stood and watched. She whispered to the man. “Why are you doing this? Why are you helping them?”

  His answer left her speechless.

  “I don’t know, Blademaster. I hate Bryan Collaidh. Sometimes it’s like I’m watching someone else do these things, but all the while it’s me. When I lay down at night I have terrible nightmares of what will happen if I don’t cooperate. Horrors worse than you can imagine...” His voice trailed off as he simply walked away, clearly tormented and shaking his head in confusion.

  Rhia settled uncomfortably in her blanket and tried to think while appearing to doze. It seemed impossible with Bryan on the right, Ricard to her left, and a circle of Draeman soldiers all around. They’d taken her sword, her long knives, everything. Even her mother’s prized jeweled dagger that she always wore strapped to her thigh.

  When Bryan’s hand slid possessively up and around the cheeks of her butt, she instinctively reached for her Source wishing there was a Gift of Broiling or a Gift of Singe or something she could use to ash the bastard. She looked up through the trees to the dark sky above and concentrated on RuArk with all her mind and strength.