Sentinals Justice: Book Three of the Sentinal Series

by Helen Garraway

  He stirred and low voices intruded, and he rolled his head towards them. His head ached, a dull ache that niggled.

  “At last! We thought you were going to sleep the day out,” Niallerion said as he helped Jerrol sit up.

  “Where am I?”

  “You are in Taelia’s rooms. Rest a minute, get your bearings.”

  “Jerrol?” Taelia was suddenly in his arms and he collapsed back on the pillows under her weight.

  “Oof! I love you too,” he said with a laugh as he hugged her tight burying his nose in her curls. Relaxing in her embrace, he looked over at the Sentinals as she squirmed to get closer to him.

  “How did I get here?”

  “You passed out in the orange garden. I carried you here about two hours ago.”

  “How are you feeling?” Taelia asked, as she kissed his chin.

  “Much better for seeing you,” he replied and kissed her on the lips. “Though my head aches.”

  “Not surprising,” Taelia said, as she snuggled into his side.

  “How did you end up in the Third Chevron?” Niallerion asked. He spun a chair and straddled it as he sat, leaning his arms on the back.

  Jerrol eyed him. He looked like he was getting comfortable. Marianille perched on the end of the bed, and Jerrol ended up recapping what he remembered about being conscripted as he lay in his wife’s bed, with his wife in his arms. When he began describing Adeeron, he stiffened. “By the Lady, Birlerion. It truly is him. What he has been through for me; I don’t deserve it.”

  “He thinks he is Birler, still back in the 1120’s. He doesn’t remember waking up in this time,” Marianille said, plucking at the folds of the blanket. “He believes he is waiting for Guerlaire. Niallerion has been trying to tell him what happened but he’s a bit sceptical.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Jerrol said slowly. “He was in an atrocious state when I first arrived at Adeeron, and then they ...” he trailed off not wanting to tell Birlerion’s sister what her brother had suffered.

  “And then what?” Marianille prompted. “We know Tor’asion beat him so badly that he lost his Sentinal, and any memories that went with it.”

  Jerrol shivered, remembering the poor state Birlerion had been in. A sense of betrayal sliced through him. “Torsion was our friend. How could he deceive us so?”

  “I don’t know,” Taelia whispered. “But he isn’t Torsion anymore. It is like he is a completely different person. He is cold and arrogant. Cruel.”

  “And they control the grand duke and his armies,” Niallerion said.

  “For now,” Taelia replied. “I’m sure you have a plan to stop them, don’t you, Jerrol? Why else are you here?”

  “What happened to Birlerion?” Marianille asked.

  Jerrol could see Marianille wasn’t going to let it go. He sighed. “They made him fight one handed against 4 or 5 opponents at a time. He really is the most skilled swordsman in the Elothian army. They did it until they could beat him. I think they wanted to kill him, but he survived.”

  Niallerion shifted as Marianille’s face blanched. “How could they,” she said, as she ground her teeth. Jerrol’s jaw ached watching her.

  “We need to help him get his memories back, only I have no idea how.” Jerrol rubbed his face. “I can’t stay here. I will be missed. You need to warn Jason they are after the Watch Towers.”

  “We have already. We’ve been sending Stoneford and Deepwater everything we could find out. I’ve been eavesdropping on Tor’asion and Var’geris, so we know most of their plans,” Niallerion said.

  “You need to be more careful.” Marianille flicked Niallerion a sharp glance as he began to protest and he stopped. “You’ll get caught!” Marianille smoothed out the ridges she had made in the blankets.

  Jerrol looked from Marianille to Niallerion and raised an eyebrow. Niallerion shrugged and changed the subject. “The question is, how do we stop them? We need the duke to reverse the orders he sent to the Generals.”

  Taelia patted Jerrol’s arm to gain his attention. “Do you think you can get in to see him?”

  “I report every morning. I’ll try then.” He looked at the worried faces around him. “As much as I would like to stay here, I’ve already been here too long. Owen will be searching for me.”

  “Be careful, Jerrol. Please. The Ascendants are determined. They tried to kill you once, they may try again.” Taelia tightened her embrace, reluctant to let him go.

  “I’ll try,” he said, kissing her again. Then he detached himself and struggled upright. He swayed and then stiffened as a wave of nausea rushed through him.

  Niallerion rose and steadied him. “I’ll go with you,” he said. “Until you are back with your men. You need to keep Birlerion or one of the others with you at all times. The Ascendants are less likely to attack if there are witnesses.”

  Jerrol exhaled. “Why did I ever think we could save the grand duke from the Ascendants?”

  Niallerion grinned. “Because you like impossible odds?”

  Jerrol huffed as he strode to the door. Glancing back, he saw Marianille embrace Taelia. Taelia’s eyes were too big in her pale face. The expression of fear on her face tore at him but there was nothing he could do to alleviate her concerns. The door shut softly behind him.

  32

  Grand Duke’s Palace, Retarfu

  When Jerrol arrived at the grand duke’s rooms the next morning, the Ascendants were already present. Jerrol paused outside the door and raised an eyebrow at Birler who was standing guard. His heart stuttered as he inspected his friend’s face. His blue eyes were so disconcerting. He didn’t look right without the silver eyes. And the ugly scar bisecting his eyebrow was a visible reminder of what he had been through.

  Birler shrugged and displayed the clipboard. Var’geris and Tor’asion were listed. Jerrol gritted his teeth and opened the door.

  “Ah, Captain Finn. I am glad you are here.” The grand duke leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. “I am advised that you are not who you say you are.”

  “I would suggest your advisors are not who they say they are, Your Grace. And they certainly don’t have your best interests at heart.”

  “And who might they be?” Randolf asked as he inspected Var’geris.

  “They are called Ascendants. They tried to poison King Benedict, and I believe they were behind your father’s early demise. They hope to take control of every kingdom in Remargaren.”

  “Nonsense,” Var’geris said. “Really Haven, your dedication astounds me.”

  “Haven?” Grand Duke Randolf repeated. He peered at Jerrol. “Ambassador Haven? I don’t understand.”

  “The name is Finn; Captain Finn of the Third Chevron,” Jerrol snapped. “Your plans will be the downfall of Elothia; you will kill the future of our country. Grand Duke Randolf will not agree to the decimation of our people.”

  Tor’asion stepped out of the shadows. “Jerrol, stop being so melodramatic.”

  Jerrol flinched as he met Torsion’s eyes. “It is you,” he said. An icy shiver of betrayal sped through him as he glanced between the two dark-haired men before him. “Who are you really? And what do you want with the grand duke?” He desperately looked around the room for help.

  Birler peered through the open door, his eyes widening at the scene. “Lieutenant Kerisk, Your Grace,” he said, opening the door wider allowing Owen to enter.

  “Owen, what are you doing here?” Jerrol drew his sword as he pivoted to keep the Ascendants in view.

  “I should ask you the same question! Finn, these are the grand duke’s trusted advisors; what do you think you are doing?” Owen asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

  “They are not friends of the grand duke or Elothia,” Jerrol replied.

  Tor’asion laughed. “Jerrol, what would you know? A spy from Vespiri. Why should the grand duke trust you?”

  Jerrol watched the man he knew as Torsion flank him. “If that is the case, how did I become a captain in the Third Chevron
? How did I get here?”

  “You’ve been gone for months. You tell us. The Lady deserted you in your time of need. You were thought to be dead. Really; you do turn out to be a good officer no matter which uniform you wear. Shame you’re not on our side; we could use a man like you.”

  “You will destroy us all. You only see what you want. You have forgotten your purpose, to protect the people. Instead, you twist it for your own good and let down the very people you should be protecting.”

  Var’geris strode forward. “Enough, Kerisk deal with him.”

  Jerrol stared at his friend, shock immobilising him. “Owen?”

  “I’m sorry Finn. I didn’t have a choice.”

  “A choice about what?”

  Owen grimaced. “Put your sword down, Finn. Private Birler, arrest this man.”

  Birler stepped through the open door, glancing warily around its occupants. His gaze paused on the grand duke. The grand duke raised a hand which visibly trembled. “Do it,” he said. “Until we have more details about what is going on.”

  Birler swallowed, and turned to Finn. “Captain, your sword please.”

  Jerrol hesitated a moment, and then deflated as he handed over his sword. There was no way he could fight Birlerion. Not only was he family, even if Birlerion didn’t know it, he would not put him in such a difficult situation. He was, after all, only following orders.

  Mind racing, Jerrol stared at Tor’asion. His stomach dropped as he realised who Torsion was. The one who would deceive him; the one the Lady couldn’t see. “All this time you have deceived us?” The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. “You were born deceiving.”

  Tor’asion preened, raising his chin and taking it as a compliment. “I was born to deceive you. From the first breath I took, to your last. I will have deceived you. You don’t know me, nor have you ever. You never really tried.”

  Jerrol flinched. “We were friends. For years. I looked up to you, believed in you.”

  “A child’s response. No, I advised you, and you rarely listened. You were the most frustrating brat.”

  Anger flashed through Jerrol, no, not anger, a burning fury. A fury born of loss and betrayal. He gritted his teeth to keep it contained. He stood, rigid, and controlled his breathing until he was able to speak. “All things considered, I am glad I didn’t listen to you. You wanted me to be a scholar, like you.”

  Tor’asion moved in front of Jerrol and jutted his face into Jerrol’s. His eyes glittered with some emotion Jerrol couldn’t name as they stood nose to nose. It wasn’t anger, he had seen enough of that to know. As Tor’asion continued to speak, Jerrol realised it was something far more dangerous. “I knew when we first met, there was something about you. Something I needed to keep an eye on. It would have been much easier if you’d become a scholar. Instead you went all starry-eyed over that King’s Ranger. What did he have that I didn’t? Why did you follow him, instead of me?”

  A tense silence enveloped them, trapping them in their own bubble of unadorned truth, thick with perceived injustices and threats. Torsion clamped his lips shut and his eyes burned with contempt.

  “Compassion,” Jerrol said at last, watching Tor’asion’s expression as it hardened. “For me and those around him.”

  Tor’asion spun away, breaking the moment, his laugh harsh. “Compassion?” He circled Jerrol, clenching his fists. “Weakness you mean. You have to be strong to survive. Make hard decisions, for the good of all. Like the grand d2p'puke here, protecting his people against subversive Vespirians.”

  “Only because you planted the suggestion. That’s what you did, didn’t you? You couldn’t enspell him, so you enspelled his generals and the people around him. New to the throne, he had no chance. Not with all his advisors pushing for war.” Jerrol turned to Randolf, who was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands, Var’geris beside him. “Your Grace, please, Vespiri has no wish to go to war. These Ascendants have no thought for anyone but themselves.”

  “Shut him up,” Var’geris growled, interrupting his low conversation with the grand duke.

  “Finn? You are only making it worse for yourself. Do what they say and you won’t be harmed,” Owen said, his gaze tracking the grand duke’s advisors.

  “Do you expect me to believe that?” Jerrol watched Torsion and twisting his lips he said: “You’ve never thought of anyone but yourself, have you, Torsion? Not me. Not even She’vanne. You stole her. Did you kill her rider? Her bond mate? I bet that’s why she won’t speak to you.”

  Tor’asion hissed his breath out as he jerked to a stop. “What? The horse? You don’t know what you are talking about. There are more important things to consider. Like you shredding that damn veil, once and for all.” He began pacing again.

  “I can’t.”

  “Of course you can, and you will. If you don’t, we will destroy Stoneford and Jason and all your friends. We will smash your home, Jerrol, and you along with it.”

  “Why?” Jerrol asked.

  Tor’asion stopped stalking around him and faced him. “Why what?”

  “Why are you so angry? At me and the people of Remargaren.”

  Torsion tensed, the cords of his neck standing out as he drew in his breath and released it. “You have no idea, do you? Years of injustice. Centuries! Eons! My ancestors were the rightful rulers of Remargaren as we will be now. You are all so blind. Gazing up at that seductress and believing every word she says. You let her control you and everything around you.”

  A low growl beside him had Jerrol glancing at Birler. The Sentinal’s face was dangerously controlled, but his eyes blazed. His grip on Jerrol’s arm tightened and Jerrol hurried to speak. “Seductress? You mean Leyandrii? I think you are confused. From what I’ve seen it is you that wants to control others, not Leyandrii.”

  “Look how she controls those Sentinals, marking them with those silver eyes. Owning them like slaves. Directing their every move.”

  Jerrol tilted his head, as he gazed at his one-time friend. The loss of his friendship, the betrayal, sat in his stomach like a rock weighing him down. “You are mistaken. We may be hers, but she is also ours. It goes both ways. One does not own the other. She wants us to live our lives to the full in a peaceful world. How is that control?”

  “You know nothing about her, you let myth and legend steer your choices. She is not actually here, yet you do her bidding. You stand in my way. You have always stood in my way. If only I’d known …”

  “Tor’asion, stop wasting time. You are achieving nothing.” Var’geris bore down on them. “I am warning you, Haven. Shred the veil or you and the people of Stoneford will regret it.” Var’geris glared at Jerrol, holding his eyes.

  Birler jerked Jerrol away, breaking the gaze, and Jerrol inhaled, glad for the interruption. His mind spun as he grappled with everything Tor’asion had said. Much of his life, and his friendship with Torsion had been a lie. His head pounded with the knowledge. He concentrated as Birler spoke beside him, his soft voice grounding him.

  “Captain?” he murmured. “These men are Ascendants?”

  “Yes.”

  Birler spun on his heel. “Your Grace? Is this the Lady’s will?”

  Randolf struggled for a moment. His eyes glittering strangely as he rubbed his chest. He opened his mouth but no words came out.

  Birler frowned. “Your Grace? Are you alright?”

  “You heard the grand duke.” Owen’s voice was cold. “Unless you want to join Finn in the cells, private?”

  Birler’s face went blank. “No, sir.” He gripped Jerrol’s shoulder. “Captain, it would be better if you didn’t resist. I do not want to hurt you.”

  “Owen, what could they possibly offer you that would make you side with them? The Ascendants destroy everything they touch. They want to destroy Leyandrii and Elothia,” Jerrol said.

  Owen shifted, embarrassed. “I can’t explain.”

  “Try,” Jerrol snapped.

  The grand duke spoke, his words slurring. �
��The Grand Duchy supports the Lady.” He lurched to his feet and Owen moved towards him, his face paling as Randolf began foaming at the mouth.

  “Your Grace!” Owen caught the grand duke as he collapsed.

  Birler grabbed Jerrol’s arm and hauled him out of the room as the Ascendants closed in on the grand duke. Birler hurried Jerrol down the corridor, rapping out commands as he passed the sentries on duty. “Erik, get the healer, the grand duke is ill and then advise Ulfr.”

  “Birler?” Jerrol hurried to keep up with Birler’s long strides.

  “You need to get out of the palace now, captain. While the Ascendants are distracted. Once they are in control; they will come looking for you.”

  “Why would you help me? You could be court martialled, sent back to the cells in Adeeron.”

  Birler hesitated. “The Grand Duchy supports the Lady. That means anything the Ascendants want, we do the opposite.”

  “But you don’t remember me. Why would you let me go?”

  “The Ascendants want you dead. Good enough for me,” Birler said tugging him down a side corridor and then up a flight of stairs. He handed Jerrol back his sword.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’ve been talking with Nialler. He’s explained a few things that I am not sure I believe, but he does. He was always the clever one. I am more inclined to believe him than an Ascendant, any day. He said that I suffered an injury at the hands of the Ascendants and there is much I don’t remember. I have to protect you as you are the Captain, not Guerlaire, even though it doesn’t make sense.” Birler rubbed his face and shrugged. “I don’t know what to believe, but you have Guerlaire’s sword and I trust Nialler and Marian. They said, if the Ascendants threatened you, then I was to take you to them.” He halted outside Taelia’s door and rapped on it.

  Marianille opened it.