Lore of Sanctum Omnibus

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Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 28

by Elaina J Davidson


  Tristan nodded. “Very well, keep your secret for now. And please call me Tristan.”

  Fuma bowed. “Tristan it is, then. Thank you.”

  Amunti grinned.

  Tianoman scowled. “If there’s danger …”

  “… we shall inform you immediately,” Fuma said.

  Tristan waved at the group of armchairs. “Sit. I assume you will be staying at the Palace?”

  “If that is no trouble?” Fuma queried.

  “Not at all. Tell me,” Tristan said, “what happens if my cousins and I head for the mainland? Will you remain at the Palace?”

  Amunti barked a laugh. “He is sharp, Fuma.”

  Fuma glared at his companion, made his way to a chair and sat. “We would prefer to accompany you.”

  “Aha!” Tianoman pounced.

  Teroux laughed. “Clever Tris.”

  Tristan remained serious. He took a seat facing Fuma. “Are we in danger?”

  Fuma rolled his tongue over his teeth as he considered how to answer. “There is a chance, yes.”

  “Bodyguards?” Teroux demanded.

  “Something like that,” Amunti affirmed. “But we will not get in the way, promise.”

  “Anything new on Lowen?” Tristan continued to dig.

  “Nothing firm,” Fuma replied.

  “We have clues, that is all,” Amunti offered, “and being followed as we speak.”

  “And where is Torrullin?”

  Fuma stared at the younger man. He called his grandfather by his name; this grandson had insight. “My Lord Elixir has gone to Grinwallin.”

  “Why?” Teroux asked.

  “We assume to confer with the Emperor,” Amunti murmured. “Those two are great friends.”

  Tristan leaned back. “He would not go for casual reasons.”

  Amunti shrugged. “Where Teighlar is concerned, he would.”

  Tristan gave a disbelieving look. “Now? With Lowen missing?”

  “Well, perhaps not now,” Amunti admitted.

  “Quiet,” Fuma snapped.

  Tristan smiled. “It’s all right.” He rose. “Please, feel at home here. Teroux, will you ask the girl to prepare two guestrooms when she returns with refreshments?”

  “Sure.”

  “Where are you going?” Tianoman demanded.

  “I want to speak to Caballa. You two stay here.” He left before they insisted on accompanying him.

  Fuma smiled inwardly.

  Tristan was much like Torrullin.

  HE FOUND CABALLA POURING over the Oracles in the upstairs study.

  She straightened as he entered. “What do they want?”

  “Pat phrases, no real answers.”

  “Then something is a-foot.”

  “Obviously. What do you know about it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Come, Caballa, you, nursemaid, and now those two, bodyguards? Are we in danger?”

  “Why do you think I am nursemaid?”

  “Aren’t you?” Tristan wandered over to the desk to see what she was reading. Vannis’ tale.

  “No.”

  “I think you are.” He tapped the book. “Vannis?”

  She smiled. “Purely sentimental. He was an extraordinary man.”

  “So I hear. Caballa, please, the truth.”

  “Fine, Tristan, truth. There’s a prophecy about Three Kingdoms and you three could well be in the line of fire. Torrullin is being careful, and when he knows where truth and fantasy divide, he will give you the answers you seek.”

  “Therefore you exacted the promise from me to remain on Valaris.”

  “It is easier to be alert here.”

  “All right.”

  She grinned. “You don’t like it.”

  “Well, it’s not me you need worry over. Tian - he can be impulsive.”

  “And he is being watched, as is Teroux.” She rounded the desk and came to stand before him. “It isn’t meant to be restrictive.”

  He lifted a hand and traced the line of her jaw, but when she flinched he dropped it. “Sorry.”

  She forced herself to remain in place. “You are too much like him.”

  “I am not him.”

  “Thank the gods,” Caballa muttered.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  She backed away. “I don’t know.”

  He drew breath. “Caballa, I am not a womaniser like Tian and I do not drift between liaisons like Teroux. I am not like Torrullin either, unable to commit.”

  It was her turn to draw breath. “How did we get onto this subject?”

  “I am not playing with your emotions. You are a beautiful woman and I sought to tell you so. I meant no uncouth advance in lifting my hand to touch you.”

  She closed her eyes. “I am sorry. I have insulted you and did not mean to.”

  “I am not insulted; I’m concerned.”

  Her eyes opened.

  “You can’t retreat so far, Caballa, and still be whole.”

  She barked a laugh. “Come tell me that once you love someone unreachable.”

  He inclined his head. “See what I mean?”

  She sobered. “I’m not in the field, and that’s that.”

  “But I am, and I … forget it.”

  “Tristan. Somewhere out there is the perfect woman for you. It isn’t me; I am too messed-up, and you would always wonder who I think of when I am with you.”

  “Pat phrases.”

  She laughed. “Defences.”

  He smiled. “A labyrinth.”

  She laughed again, delighted. “So quick, that mind of yours.”

  “What of Rose, Caballa?”

  Her amusement vanished.

  “Longevity, I hear, like the Valleur. Not Xenian. Who is she?” Tristan went on.

  “Stay away from Rose. That girl is trouble.”

  “Tell me why.”

  “Are you attracted to her?”

  “About as much as I am to you.”

  Caballa drew a sharp breath. “Well, I would rather you fell at my feet. Rose is a dilemma.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s an innocent in many ways, yet aware of her power over men. She is a siren song; she sings, they come, she stops singing, and hearts are crushed. Rose doesn’t know what Rose wants and thus she plays games to find something or someone, and she doesn’t know she’s doing it.”

  “That I already figured out.”

  “Then you see how she’s a danger to herself as well as to you. If she repudiates you, she gets hurt and so do you. If she accepts you, the same applies, for she can’t commit. She is mercurial; she wants something new all the time. You will not hold her.”

  “That is, of course, a huge challenge.”

  “And you enjoy that. How typical.”

  “Who is she?”

  “All I know is she has the longevity gene.”

  “A mystery.”

  “And you enjoy that, too. Typical.”

  Tristan grinned. “Jealous?”

  Caballa glared at him and then laughed. “Bugger off. Go bother your cousins.”

  Tristan burst out laughing and headed for the door.

  “By the way,” she said, halting him. “Torrullin knows how to commit.”

  He remained wordless.

  “The problem lies in his duality, not commitment.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, sometimes only one facet commits. It is real, but when the other facet flares up, he withdraws.”

  “Is that why he left Saska?”

  “She left him.”

  “Because she realised he hadn’t engaged all his natures?”

  Caballa sighed. “If only it were that simple. No, with Saska he was all tuned in, which is part of the allure between them.”

  “So the problem is Lowen?”

  “No, the problem is Torrullin.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Neither do I.”

  Tristan shook his head. “If he is commit
ted to Saska and the problem isn’t Lowen, why doesn’t he go back to her?”

  “He is no longer certain she is committed.”

  “Is she?”

  “Only Saska can answer.”

  “How does Lowen fit in?”

  “Damned if I know,” Caballa muttered.

  “Doesn’t it rile you?”

  “He was already married when I met him. How can that rile me?”

  “And Lowen?”

  She pulled a face. “That riles me.”

  “Are you hoping …?”

  “No.”

  “Then?”

  “We are true friends, and it is more important than anything else.”

  “And still you love him,” Tristan prompted.

  “Yes, but not in the way you think.”

  “Then why do you flinch at my touch?”

  She drew breath. “Because I am attracted to you also.”

  He stilled and waited.

  “Yet you are so much like him I am confused. Am I reaching for the unreachable or am I trying to capture something once briefly held? Do I see you or him? Maybe I am not over the past, maybe I am to find …”

  “I am more like him than even I know?”

  “Yes. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

  “Ah.” Tristan nodded, retreated, and left her staring after him.

  TEROUX AND TRISTAN SAT WITH their heads close, talking in an undertone.

  “Teroux, we need information,” Tristan said. His fingers tapped a frustrated rhythm on the table.

  Teroux glanced around the deserted dining chamber. “Agreed. What did Caballa let slip?”

  “Bugger all, and she won’t talk more.”

  “We’re definitely not getting anything out of Fuma and Amunti.”

  “What do you suggest?” Tristan asked.

  “The Elders?”

  “They’re too prickly now. Although - maybe Vanar?”

  Teroux snorted. “Not a chance. Vanar is the most closed-mouthed of the lot.”

  They sat on in silence and then both had the same thought at once. “Rose!”

  Tristan put a finger to his lips and both gazed furtively around. “We’ll have to get past Vanar.”

  Teroux grimaced. “And Yiddin.”

  Tristan pulled a face also. “While I’d prefer transparency, I think we may have to use a backdoor.”

  “Slip in unnoticed?” Teroux was intrigued. “And Tian?”

  “Not yet. Sometimes he gives himself away.”

  Teroux nodded and then frowned in thought.

  “What?” Tristan prompted.

  “Well, you should go to her alone. Less suspicion.”

  “Why me? You could do it.”

  Both pulled a face. Both were wary of the delectable Rose.

  “You know what to ask,” Teroux pointed out.

  Tristan heaved a sigh. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

  “When?”

  “Later tonight, when everyone has retired.”

  “That’ll scare Rose,” Teroux whispered.

  “What else do you suggest then?”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “I’ll be careful,” Tristan murmured.

  Chapter 28

  Do not judge a book by its cover.

  ~ Earth Idiom

  Valaris

  VANAR INSTALLED ROSE IN the guesthouse where visiting dignitaries resided because the complex possessed additional security.

  Vanar considered Rose a security risk; all the Elders thought thus.

  Tristan transported into the small courtyard at the back of the complex, the one where the staff took their leisure hours in. It was deserted, as expected, and there were no Valleur guards in the vicinity. He headed in what he hoped was perfect silence for the kitchen and heaved a sigh of relief when he discovered the door unlocked.

  Slipping inside, he made his way through and along darkened corridors and various storerooms through entertainment areas, the black void of the conference facility, and into the guestroom wing.

  The ambassador from Beacon was in residence, having completed his business with Isaiah Kronig the day before, and there was a delegation from Ceta asleep somewhere. Other than them there was only Rose. She could be in one of twenty staterooms; finding her would not be easy.

  At the first bedroom he heard a male snore, grinned and moved on. The second was ajar and empty. Through the door of the third he heard someone talking in his sleep and the fourth revealed the intimate sounds of lovemaking. He hoped it was not Rose with one of those idiots from Ceta.

  He moved on and froze. Light spilled from a doorway further along as someone came out. A man, and he headed the other way, unaware.

  Tristan waited until he disappeared around the corner and then hastened forward. Vanar would keep Rose separate. She had to be in one of the staterooms bordering the ostentatious courtyard.

  The courtyard was dark and he walked across casually. On the far side were four large bedrooms, used rarely, for lengthy stays. As far as he knew there was no one in Menllik requiring the arrangement.

  The doors gave direct access to the courtyard and were widely spaced. All four were shut and he came to an uncertain halt. Beside each door was a window, but all were dark, drapes drawn.

  It was not that late, he thought. He had hoped Rose would be awake. Light would be an excellent clue. He frowned and moved forward, starting at the left door. An ear to the wood gave only silence, as did the second one. He bypassed the third, certain Rose would be behind the door on the right.

  Vanar’s sense of symmetry.

  He stood before the fourth door and listened.

  Nothing. Damn it.

  He dared not knock, for he noted the guard’s shadow to the left of the courtyard. He may not raise the alarm, but he may also do just that.

  Tristan drew breath and transported into the stateroom.

  SHE WAS THERE, ASLEEP in the massive bed with a lone candle flickering uncertain light. She seemed lost in the huge space, vulnerable, lonely, childlike.

  His heart constricted.

  He tiptoed forward and stood staring down at her. Golden curls in disarray, thumb in mouth, dark lashes fluttering.

  Controlling an impulse that would have him gather her into his arms, he touched her lightly on the shoulder.

  “Rose!” he called out softly.

  She did not react. He called again, shaking her gently. Again she did not stir.

  He straightened and then closed his eyes to call to her with farspeaker talents.

  She sat up, instantly alert.

  “Rose, right here, don’t be frightened.”

  Large blue eyes turned to him and she smiled. “The air I breathe.”

  A new gut punch. “I need your help.”

  Rose rubbed her eyes, yawned, stretched and each movement had him transfixed. She smiled again. “I assume Vanar doesn’t know of this visit?”

  He swallowed and sat on the bed. “No. How can you be so casual? Here I am, sneaked into your bedroom, and you think nothing of it?”

  “You have self-control, Tristan. Had it been another, even one of your cousins, I would shout for help.”

  He nodded. “All right.” Thank god Teroux had not come.

  She threw back the covers - she had a long nightgown on, thank Aaru - and clambered off.

  “Excuse me a minute,” she muttered and headed for the bathroom.

  While she was gone, he moved over to the sitting area to fling into an armchair. Gods, she was dangerous.

  “Tristan? Do you want something to drink?”

  She put a light on in a small kitchen alcove and looked his way expectantly. She had donned a thick gown over her nightdress.

  “Coffee, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “My one vice, too.”

  She busied herself and he watched her, trying hard not to. Despite being covered head to toe, she was alluring. Caballa was beautiful, more so than Rose, but Rose was sexy.

  Tristan fo
rced his gaze away.

  She brought a tray over and placed it on the coffee table. “I am glad you came. I’m out of my mind with boredom.”

  He took a mug, added a spoon of sweetness, stirred. “You should be allowed to return to Xen.”

  “No, I like it here. I’m not really complaining.” She helped herself and then sat on the chair closest to him. “Why the sneaky visit?”

  “I need to find something out covertly.”

  “And the farspeaker chain would help?”

  “I believe so. Rose, I’m asking, not demanding.”

  She dimpled. “You have good manners, I know.”

  “Will you help?”

  Rose considered. “First I need to know who you seek to connect with.”

  He considered in turn, which he had not before. Who would know the truth? And tell it? He groaned and lay back against the seat. The only ones who would know were connected to Torrullin, and would not reveal anything. They would also inform on him.

  “Problem?” Rose questioned.

  “Yes.”

  “All right, try this, what are you trying to find out?”

  “How would that help you?”

  “I know people, certain folk I could contact for certain, er, truths.”

  He stared at her and decided not to point out Vanar would go ape shit if she heard that. “Another problem for me.”

  Beautifully arched brows lifted. “You don’t know who to connect with and you don’t know what to ask. Under these conditions, I can’t help you.”

  “I had not thought it through, I guess.”

  She put her mug down. “Someone withholds something from you, right? You know that is so, but don’t know what it is. Fine. Try this, would the Valleur Elders know?”

  “Bare minimum - gods, you could invade their thoughts?”

  “But they would know. You don’t want that. If they know little, it isn’t worth the effort anyway.”

  “True.”

  “Tristan, I would love to help, but you have to help me help you.”

  “I see that. Fine, I suspect we may be in some kind of danger. It doesn’t scare me exactly, but I prefer being prepared.”

  “And who knows the facts - what do you mean ‘danger’?”

  He gave a shrug. “That’s just it, I don’t know.”

  “Well, you should, it’s only fair. Who would know?”

 

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