by Kate Jacoby
Jacob was about to reply when sounds from the courtyard beyond the wall told him the waiting was over. Moments later, the garden gate opened and Bella walked through, followed by Jennifer. He waved them over, then turned his attention to Campbell. The old man had stopped his pacing and was now staring openly at Jacob’s younger daughter.
Jacob introduced them, adding, “He’s come a long way, Jennifer. Baron Campbell would like to ask you a few questions.”
Jennifer’s wide blue eyes seemed dark in the sunshine and a brief smile flashed across her face. “What kind of questions?”
Campbell indicated the bench under the tree. “Please sit down. I’m sorry I’ve done this so abruptly, child, but I came here as soon as I could—as soon as I heard. I live on the other side of Lusara, you see, and with the winter being harsh, I couldn’t make the journey earlier. These old bones won’t do the riding they once did. Please, do sit.”
Jennifer glanced once at Jacob and for a moment, she looked quite nervous. He smiled reassurance to her as she sank to the bench. Bella waited beside him. From the expression on her face, Jacob felt she had a pretty good idea of what this was about.
“What would you like to ask me?”
Campbell stood before her and twisted his hands together. “I’ve heard the story about how you were abducted—and how you were found again and brought home. I need to know...” He paused, fighting for his words.
In response, Jennifer smiled up at him then reached out and took his hand. “Go on, my lord. What do you need to know?”
Jacob couldn’t take his eyes from them. It was incredible. Campbell, until now worn and tired from his journey and almost reeking anguish, visibly relaxed at the touch of Jennifer’s hand. He looked down into her eyes. Jacob could only guess what he saw there, but whatever it was produced a sad smile. With a sigh, Campbell sank down onto the bench beside her.
“I need to know ... if you remember anything about the men who took you. I realize you were very young but—do you remember anything? Who they were? Where they took you? Did they ever say why? Would you know them if you saw them again? Did you ever see any ... others?”
“Others?” Jennifer murmured with a frown. Then abruptly, her eyes widened. “You lost someone? In the Troubles?”
“My grandson, Keith. He was abducted two months after you. He was barely three years old. His father was killed fighting Selar and I just thought ... I hoped you might be able to tell me something—anything that might shed some light on his fate. Did you never see any other children? Any others with a House Mark?”
“I remember very little, I’m afraid. Just the moment when they came through the forest. I don’t even remember them taking me away, just the moment when they came. There were perhaps a dozen men, armed and mounted. I do remember the old man in front rode a white horse.”
“But what about afterwards? Do you remember anything after that?”
Jacob spoke up. “Come, Latham—she was four years old. How much could she remember after thirteen years?”
Campbell met his gaze for a long moment, then stood and began pacing up and down again. “I’m sorry, Jacob. I don’t mean to lay my troubles at your door. But you must appreciate that your daughter represents something we’d always thought impossible. All our children were abducted, with never a word of ransom. Taken from us as though they were no more than cattle! The spoils of war—only there was no war. And we never knew who took them or where they went. They just disappeared, Jacob! And now this child of yours has been returned. You can’t blame me for wondering if my grandson is still alive somewhere in Lusara with no memory of who he is. What if he’s ...”
Campbell was working himself up but it was Jennifer who stood and stopped his pacing. Again she took his hand. “I can offer you little comfort, my lord. I never saw any other children and I only remember my home in Shan Moss as though I’d lived there forever. I am sorry my return has brought back these memories for you.”
“Oh, child, I don’t blame you. Rather I thank the miracle that placed Dunlorn in your path. If it hadn’t been for him, you too would still be lost.”
There it was, that name again. Jacob had done his best to forget that he owed so much to the traitor.
As though Campbell had read Jacob’s thoughts, he caught himself up and threw an apologetic glance in his direction.
Then Campbell turned back to Jennifer. “Forgive me. I realize I’m asking the impossible of you. But I had to try. Still, just answer one more question for me. When Dunlorn found you, how was it that he saw your House Mark? Did he see it right away—or did he recognize you first?”
For some reason, Jacob had never asked her this question himself. Now that it was spoken, he burned with curiosity to know. He leaned forward in his chair and held his breath in anticipation.
Jennifer, as though feeling eyes upon her, stepped back and folded her hands beneath her gown. “It was an accident that Robert saw it at all. We were riding through the mountains and my horse stumbled. I fell and slid down a slope. When Robert and Micah reached me, the shoulder of my dress had torn and revealed the Mark.”
Although she said this in exactly the same way she had answered all Campbell’s questions, for some strange reason, Jacob knew she was lying. He couldn’t pinpoint how he knew—nor which part was a lie—but nonetheless, his daughter was most definitely not telling the truth.
But why? Why would she lie about it? Unless ... had the traitor done something to her? Had he ...
No! Dunlorn might be many things but he would not take advantage of an innocent child like Jennifer. Despite his many faults, Dunlorn, within certain bounds, was a man of honour.
Nevertheless, what was Jennifer hiding?
With the last remaining shreds of sunlight draining across the floor of the stillroom, Jenn put down her work and began to light some candles. They would have to stop work soon and go down for supper. Baron Campbell would be there and he was sure to ask more questions. Jenn sighed. There was nothing she could do about it. There was no way around the fact that every mention of Robert’s name would only make her father more unhappy.
“What are you sighing about?” Bella murmured, her attention focused on the embroidery in her hands. “You’re not still upset about that incident with Joseph, are you?”
Jenn brought a candle over and set it on the table. “I feel very sorry for him. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”
“Short of bringing his wife back to life, no.”
“But perhaps if I talked to him, explained what happened.” Jenn sank down on her stool but didn’t pick up her work again. Instead she kept her eyes on her sister. She’d had almost four months to get used to Bella and her abrupt, sometimes harsh manner, four months during which Jenn had almost given up hope that Bella would ever like her. Unfortunately, though, Bella was still her teacher and Jenn had to rely on her knowledge.
“Perhaps if I...”
Bella glanced up. “You’re not about to suggest I write a letter to Dunlorn, are you?”
“What makes you say that?”
“I’m not stupid, Jennifer. I know you’re worried about Campbell and wondering if there’s some way you can help him find his grandson. I know you—you want to help everybody—like Joseph. Robert is the next logical step in the search. However, if your discovery was such an accident, I doubt Robert would be any help to Campbell and I don’t think Father would appreciate you suggesting it.”
Jenn watched her for a moment, saw the frown of concentration on Bella’s face, the thin line of her lips. She had that look—the one which would brook no discussion. Bella always got that look whenever Robert’s name came up.
“I’m sorry, Bella, but I don’t understand why you don’t like Robert. I mean, I know why Father won’t have his name spoken, but you? Why? What did he ever do to you?”
Bella turned sharply at this, her work forgotten. “Don’t use that tone with me! This has nothing to do with whether I like Dunlorn or not. Nor is Father’
s opinion of great concern here. The simple truth is, that despite the fact that Dunlorn rescued you and brought you back here, he is not the hero you seem to think he is. Oh, I know you’ve heard all the stories, but there is a lot about that man you don’t know. Things you would rather not know.”
Jenn’s heart leapt to her mouth. Could Bella possibly know the truth—the real truth about Robert? If so, how did she know? Robert had never mentioned it, but then, Robert hadn’t told her many things.
She clasped her hands together and took a calming breath. “What kind of things?”
“Even the greatest of heroes have a dark side to their nature, Jennifer, and Dunlorn is no exception. All the world knows of his public exploits, but there are some deeds that were always kept quiet for one reason or another. I admit that he and I have never been friends, but I must not take only Father’s thoughts into account, but also those stories which are kept secret. Stories which show his true nature.”
“What stories? And do you know—for certain—if they are true? I mean, have you ever asked him?”
“I hadn’t seen him for years before he came here with you. But I swear he would deny none of them if you asked him. I wonder, did he ever tell you how he saved Selar’s life? How he could have let the man die, but didn’t?”
Jenn hardly dared take in a breath of relief. “Yes he did.”
“Then did he ever tell you about the day Selar came to see him, two years after the conquest? The day when Robert sold his honour for the sake of his freedom. Did he mention how he alienated the Guilde so much that Selar had to throw him off the council? That Robert deliberately flouted sacred Guilde law in order to gain possession of a small piece of land?”
Bella paused then added, “Did he ever tell you how he killed his wife?”
“What?” Jenn froze in the act of reaching for her needlework. She wanted to laugh at the suggestion, but Bella’s eyes held no humour.
“It was no coincidence that he left the country only days after she died. Oh, I know he’d been removed from the council, but men have lost their position before and not run away. But Berenice died so soon after and what very few people know is that he stopped at Dunlorn before he left—and she died that night.”
“How do you know about it?”
“That’s unimportant.”
“But it doesn’t mean he killed her.”
“No? Then why did he leave? Ask yourself that. Why did Robert leave Lusara?”
There was an owl in the woods beyond the castle wall. Every night Jenn listened to it call and hoped it would fly down into the little garden, but it never did. Instead, there was only a faint haunting echo drifting across the warm spring evening and high up to the battlements of Elita. Jenn paused as she crossed the empty courtyard and turned her head this way and that to track its direction. It was now the only living reminder of her previous life in the forest.
At Shan Moss she would often leave the crowded inn and head out into the cool forest. Even in winter there was a peace and serenity to be found among the trees, the hills and valleys. Over the years she had got to know it very well and now, living in this castle, with all her new advantages, she missed that gentle harmony. She longed to reach out and touch the rough bark and feel the damp-moulded leaves beneath her feet. There in the forest, there were no demands, no obligations—and no questions.
She continued across the courtyard towards the garden, but her feet moved slowly, held back by the weight of her thoughts.
An endless stream of questions, one following the other in an almost random collection. How was she to develop her powers? Who were the men who had abducted her? Why had they? Why was she the only one ever found?
Had Robert really killed his wife?
Jenn paused with her hand on the gate latch. In the dark, her flesh was almost invisible. But if she reached out with her senses just a little, she could see it quite clearly. The hand of a sorcerer.
No. It was impossible. Robert was a soldier, experienced in battle, but he was also a man who had exiled himself rather than break his oath to a King. There was no way a man of such honour would murder his own wife.
But how do you know, a voice inside her asked. How can you be sure about anything with that man? He confides in no one. Trusts no one. So why trust him? Why believe in him? He’s a powerful sorcerer, capable of almost anything. All those who knew Robert well trusted him—and hated themselves for doing so.
So what on earth was there in him that made her so sure?
Actually, she smiled, it was easier to focus on what wasn’t in him. Greed. Lust for power. Selfishness. Sure, he had his own obscure reasons, but he had refused time and again to take on the leadership of the Enclave, a position which would surely give him more power than he could dream of. And he could easily have allowed Selar to die—or killed him at a later time.
Yes, there were so many ways Robert could have allowed himself to be overtaken by evil, even to the point of abandoning her to either the Guilde or the Enclave. But he had chosen the way of good. Every time.
There were answers to be found. But there was another, deeper answer. One which was more difficult to pinpoint. One which she had seen many times in his eyes. That .. . what was it? Sorrow? Pain? Is that what she saw? If so, why did no one else ever see it? Perhaps other people saw only what they wanted to—and they didn’t want to see Robert vulnerable.
Jenn reached out again and pulled down the latch. With a click, the gate swung wide and a rush of spring scents wafted towards her. She breathed in deep—and paused.
Someone was watching her. Just like at the market, she could feel eyes upon her. But she was alone. Surely alone.
Carefully she turned and scanned the dark shadows of the courtyard, the stable against the north wall, the kitchens to the east, the guard house by the gate. Nothing. A dog sniffled around the blacksmith’s anvil and ignored Jenn completely. There was nothing there. So what was this feeling?
Taking a deep breath, Jenn began to reach out with her senses, not even sure she was doing it the right way, seeking out further as though her hands spread across the dark courtyard, feeling every cobblestone, every crack and pebble. She felt cold and disembodied as she pushed out until—
“Who’s there?” she murmured, her voice trembling. “Why are you hiding?”
From the shadows of the stables, a figure emerged. It was a woman. She came forward slowly, spreading her arms wide in a gesture of peace. “I’m sorry, my lady. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Jenn waited until the woman came close. “I wasn’t afraid. I want to know why you were hiding.”
The woman’s face was near now, but this time Jenn ignored the darkness and looked at her with sorcerer’s sight. Hazel eyes and dull blonde hair. A squarish face more handsome than pretty, with a small mouth held together as though in disappointment. There was something vaguely familiar about her.
“Who are you?”
Abruptly the woman dropped her servile manner and chuckled. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you don’t remember me. You had so much to think about when we last met, and it was quite a while ago.”
“What is your name?”
“I will tell you willingly, but you must never repeat it—not in full. I am Fiona Ferris. My mother is Ayn and my father was Marcus. You may recall we met shortly after he died. Do you remember me now?”
Jenn took a step back. “You were at the ...”
“Exactly.” Fiona cut her off with a wave of her hand. “But you know you mustn’t say the word. Not ever. Even if you know no one can hear you, which can never be guaranteed in a place like this.”
“But Robert and Finnlay said it all the time.”
“Well, Finnlay is no surprise. He was always disobedient. Robert should know better.” With a glance back towards the guardhouse, Fiona drew Jenn close to the garden wall. “It’s not a good idea for us to be seen talking here for too long, so I’ll make this brief.”
“Why are you here? Has som
ething happened?”
“If you’ll just stop asking stupid questions for a moment, I’ll tell you. I was sent by the elders. I would have come sooner but there was the winter. Anyway, I’m here now—and believe it or not, entirely at your service.”
Jenn shook her head, still not understanding. “But why?”
“Why do you think? To teach you! I’m quite qualified, you know. Adept for three years. I don’t have the skills of my father but I have been teaching for a long time. I think I can be of some help to you. By the look of that scan you just did, I was right to come.”
“But you said you were sent.”
“I volunteered,” Fiona smiled, but not pleasantly. “I know why you chose to leave us, but frankly, I don’t care about all that. What is important to me—and the elders—is that you are trained properly. If you’re to be any use to anyone—even yourself—you need training. Robert should never have deserted you all the way out here.”
“He didn’t...”
“Look, I don’t have time to argue. If we’re found together now, before I’ve arranged things, it will ruin everything. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to throw me out once you recognized me.”
“But what if I don’t want any training?”
Fiona paused. “Do you? Speak now if you don’t.”
Jenn took a deep breath. “Yes, I suppose I do. But how...”
“Don’t worry about that. Just trust me. I know what I’m doing. Unlike some people I could mention, I’ve not spent my whole life living in a cave—or a forest.” Fiona began walking away, raising her hand in farewell. “You will see me again. Goodnight.”
Jenn watched her go, disappear into the shadows. She tried, but her powers seemed to fail her this time and she lost all sight of the woman.
So, they had sent her a teacher. And why? So she would return to them and do ... whatever it was they wanted. Still, having Fiona around could be helpful and if nothing else, she would be able to answer a few questions.