Lennox, Mary - Heart of Fire.txt

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by Heart of Fire. txt (lit)


  constantly, giving off sparks of rosy light almost like living fire.

  It tugged at his heart with a mystical power. He had never looked

  at anything inanimate before and given a judgment to it other

  than to say, “This is beautiful,” or “This is unpleasing.”

  But the stone had a soul.

  “It is exactly what I wish,” Nicholas said. “How much do

  you want for it?”

  The merchant named a sum, and Nicholas immediately

  wrote out a bank draft. “You know,” he said, handing the draft

  to the merchant. “You’re welcome here for as long as you wish

  to stay. I could get you out of Laurentia in two weeks with a

  diplomatic mission heavily surrounded by a troop of cavalry.”

  The merchant tugged at his hat again. “That’s kind of you,

  Sire, but I can’t risk it. If ye don’t mind, I’ll let myself out and

  gather my things together at the inn.” He deposited the bank

  draft deep into the pocket of his coat. Nicholas rose.

  “I’ll tell the guards to admit you again should you change

  your mind.”

  “Thank ye, Sire. It’s very good to me you’ve been, and all

  your people. I don’t deserve it, but I’ll not forget it, either.”

  “Good luck to you, man,” said Nicholas.

  “I fear my luck has run out,” said the merchant with a hollow

  laugh. “But ye can always hope.” The man bowed his way out

  of the study.

  Nicholas opened his hand. The ruby lay warm against his

  palm. Had he been fanciful, he would have thought the haunted

  merchant unfit to carry this stone. But the ruby would grace

  Sera’s throat now. Who better than Sera to wear a jewel that

  aroused such joy?

  Nicholas called for Monsieur Laliche, the court jeweler. “I

  need this by tonight. Surround the stone with diamonds,” he

  said. “But don’t cut away even the smallest amount of it. It’s

  perfect just as it is.”

  ***

  When Andre proposed their shopping trip for her bridal

  gown, Sera panicked. “I don’t want to,” she said in a voice that

  wavered like a child’s. Where was Nicholas? She needed to

  remind him of all the reasons why he shouldn’t marry her.

  “Every bride needs a wedding gown,” Katherine insisted.

  “Come along. We need to get to Carlsohnn’s and then return

  again for your first fitting.”

  Edmund Carlsohnn did not make it any easier for Sera. He

  had already heard through the capital’s intricate grapevine that

  she and the king were to marry very soon. By the time they

  reached his shop, yards of white lace and creamy silks and

  brocades lay upon the cutting table at the back of the shop, and

  Monsieur Carlsohnn stood behind it with a delighted expression

  on his face, rubbing his hands together.

  “I cannot tell you what an honor—Lady Sera, our good

  wishes for joy and happiness. All of us in town, we’re ever so

  pleased.”

  Sera, helpless against such kindness, could only give her

  thanks in what she hoped was a gracious tone of voice. She

  stood at the cutting table, leaving all the decisions to Andre and

  Katherine. Everything was moving too quickly, and she was

  filled with such uncertainty.

  She vaguely heard the sound of the shop’s bell behind her

  and turned her head to see who had entered. A man shut the

  door, his back to her, a gray cloak covering his broad shoulders.

  Then he turned, and she saw his long blond braid hanging well

  below his shoulders. He fingered a piece of silk laid on the

  front counter and Sera froze. The man looked directly into her

  eyes.

  Jacob Augustus had come at last. She wanted to run to him,

  throw her arms around him, and ask him a million questions.

  But Jacob gave a swift glance sideways at her two companions

  and their guards. He bent again to the material, his dear, calm

  face perusing the frivolous ribbons as though they were the most

  important things in the world.

  Jacob looked up a moment later and held her gaze. He

  nodded once and turned, leaving the shop. The bell trilled, the

  only proof that Jacob had, indeed, been there. She knew he’d

  be able to find her. She need only get away. Her hands trembled

  as she lifted the brocade to touch its delicate flowered pattern.

  “This will do nicely, I think,” she said. Her voice sounded

  breathless to her own ears. Andre gave her a strange look, but

  she was too filled with new joy, new worries, to care. “And the

  lace for the veil. That will be lovely. Shall we return to the

  palace? It’s a beautiful day, and I haven’t ridden for such a long

  time.”

  “But I thought we’d stop at Mrs. Torville’s,” protested

  Katherine. “I purposely ate only a piece of toast for breakfast,

  anticipating a cream puff. Could you not put off the ride until

  later this afternoon?”

  “I have an excellent idea,” said Sera, mad with the need to

  see Jacob again. “Why not send me back to the palace in a

  carriage? Then you and Andre can go on for pastry.”

  “That will not do at all,” said Andre quite firmly. “I shall

  accompany you both to the palace. Then perhaps Katherine and

  I will return to town.”

  “Thank you so much, Monsieur Carlsohnn,” Sera said,

  gathering her reticule and gloves. “We must leave, now. Ready,

  Katherine? Here, let me help you with your cloak.” Her fingers

  managed the buttons, even shaking a little.

  She walked beside Katherine wishing they had taken the

  carriage, hating the time passing before she could see Jacob

  again. She cursed the Outlander rules that made her run back to

  her room and change into a riding habit before she could mount

  Wind Rider and head into the park to find him.

  The park, on this bleak December day, was deserted. As

  Sera rode up the gentle rise far from the stables, she saw Jacob

  Augustus standing beside Lightning, his mount, a few hundred

  feet ahead. She didn’t have to nudge Wind Rider forward. He

  whinnied once at the bay horse that had been his companion

  and sped toward him in a pounding gallop. They surged up the

  rise where Jacob waited and Sera came to a halt before him,

  jumping from Wind Rider and throwing her arms about his neck.

  “Oh, I have despaired of ever seeing you again. How is it

  that only now you’ve come? Did you know where I was from

  the beginning?”

  “Grandfather wouldn’t let me come until those vermin

  attacked you.”

  Sera lowered her eyes. “Does he hate me, then, for being

  such a fool?”

  Jacob hugged her again. “No, of course not. He will explain

  everything to you as soon as I get you home.”

  “Home? But I—I can’t go home, Jacob.”

  He looked at her as though she’d suddenly sprouted two

  heads. “You cannot be happy here, Sera. They are so stupid, so

  venal. Why, I have been here for less than a day, and I cannot

  breathe in their foul city.”

  “It is better than many others, Jacob, and Nicholas will on
ly

  make it better as time goes on,” she said, stung by his criticism.

  “Nicholas is such a good man. You would like him. Grandfather

  would like him. Come, you must meet him. We can help him so

  much.”

  Jacob gave her a piercing look. “You have allowed yourself

  to become… involved with this Outlander king, haven’t you?”

  She squared her shoulders. “I love him, Jacob.”

  “Love. An Outlander word. Oh, gods, it’s as bad as it was

  with your mother.”

  Why was everything going so badly? She had been so

  happy, and now Jacob was growing angry and shocked by her

  new loyalties, as well. “Do not be so certain we Arkadians know

  everything. There are things we have lost in order to keep

  harmony amongst ourselves,” Sera said quietly.

  Jacob gave her an impatient look and said, “We have no

  time to quarrel. The thief has come to Montanyard. If you wish

  to keep the cliffs open, we must find his lodgings and go to

  him. Together, we can persuade him to give us the Heart of

  Fire.”

  “Yes,” she said. “Oh, Jacob, if the cliffs will stay open, I

  can return. I can bring Nicholas and Katherine. You would see

  then that there are good things about these Outlanders.”

  He gave her an abrupt nod. “The city is filled with frivolous,

  demanding aristocrats who come and go through the palace gate.

  Return your horse to the stable and slip away. I shall meet you

  beyond the gate, and we shall go to his inn to retrieve the ruby.”

  “Yes,” she said and mounted Wind Rider, turning one last

  time to plead with him. “Jacob, come now to the palace with

  me. You could meet them, help them. Please.”

  He shook his head. “My only concern is to bring you home

  safe. If that means retrieving the Heart of Fire with you, I shall

  do so. But that is all. I plan to leave the Outlanders to their

  tantrums and their self-destruction, Sera. And you will wish to

  do the same, after you have been back with your people and

  used right reason again.”

  ***

  Anatole Galerien paced in his study. His hands were on

  fire, his stomach was tied in so many knots that he could no

  longer eat or drink without pain. The door swung open gently,

  and Count Laslow stood before him, only his eyes visible above

  the black cape. Laslow seemed more and more a specter, but

  the king no longer cared with what kind of man he dealt. He

  was too furious at the cursed luck of his enemies.

  “Why didn’t you bring me the girl’s head? It was a simple

  matter, from the dispatches I have read.”

  Laslow inclined his head. “A blizzard sprang up in the midst

  of the battle.”

  “What battle?” screamed Galerien. “There were two of them

  against ten of yours—isn’t that correct?”

  “Rostov carried firearms. He picked my men off as they

  attacked. And then no one could see a thing. The two men left

  almost froze to death, but luck was with them. They chanced

  upon a farmhouse and disposed of the family living there.”

  “So they ate and drank while Rostov and the girl returned

  to the palace.”

  “They were surrounded by a squadron of cavalry. But the

  thief has arrived in Montanyard. Tonight is the eve of a palace

  ball ushering in the Christmas Season. With all the confusion,

  my men have had no trouble slipping into Montanyard. Even

  as we speak, they are at the thief’s inn. You’ll have the ruby and

  the location of the cliffs into Arkadia shortly. You can deal with

  the other two after you have conquered Arkadia. Unless, of

  course, you wish to end your association with us?”

  Something about the rasp of Laslow’s hollow voice gave

  Galerien pause. He had fed this band of cutthroats until they

  were an army. Should they turn against him, he would never

  sleep safe in his bed again.

  “No. Bring me the ruby, and I’ll make you my representative

  on the throne of Laurentia, just as I promised.”

  “Very well.” Laslow bowed and turned to go.

  “Count.” Galerian said, and Laslow turned again to face

  him.

  “In a few days, you are to stage an all-out attack on Laurentia

  while I take the army to Arkadia. Gather your men together at

  the base. Begin to plan the details.”

  “No,” Laslow said. “There’s a chance that the base has been

  discovered. I must diversify our troops, not call them together

  in one place.”

  Galerien knew that the time had come to use the secret

  weapon he held over the count. “I have a list with the names of

  every man you have recruited. If you don’t obey me, I shall rid

  myself of every member of your organization, and his family,

  as well. Think carefully. Which will it be? A little courage now

  will gain you a throne.”

  Laslow’s eyes were cold as ice. Galerien fought against the

  shudder that threatened to course through him, standing tall and

  narrowing his own eyes into a look that meant instant death.

  “Very well,” said Laslow. “Beware that you don’t lose all

  in the winning of this point.”

  ***

  Sera crept up the dark, narrow stairway of the Black Bear

  after Jacob. The old inn, surrounded by warehouses and

  businesses now empty at this late hour, was located near the

  posting house at the northwestern outskirts of Montanyard.

  “Which way?” she whispered as they reached the third

  floor’s uneven landing.

  “To the left. The second door down.”

  “But the innkeeper told you this man was as thin as a wraith.

  That does not sound like the thief.”

  “He has been running for the last three months. Constant

  terror and uneven meals can change a man.”

  They stood before the door. Sera took a deep breath. All

  the last months had led to this, finally.

  Jacob pushed the door open and walked into the darkened

  room. Sera followed at his heels, only to bang into his back

  when he suddenly stopped short. She peered over his shoulder

  and stared in horror at the scene before her. The thief was

  strapped to a chair, covered in blood from wounds all over his

  body. Jacob turned and herded her out the door.

  “Gods, who would do such a thing to him?” she whispered,

  gagging. “His eyes, oh heavens, did you see? They cut out his

  eyes.”

  “I know, I know.” Jacob had his arm around her, holding

  her upright. “From the look of it, they enjoyed their work. Will

  you be all right here? I am going back in to see what else I can

  find.”

  “I’ll come with you,” she said, afraid to remain in the dark,

  narrow hall. “If they are hiding behind some doorway, if they

  return….”

  “No,” said Jacob. “They have been gone for several hours.

  Wait for me here. I do not wish you to enter this room again.”

  Jacob shut the door after him. She stood alone in the gloom,

  growing more fretful as the minutes ticked by. Finally, the door

  opened and Jacob ushered he
r down the stairway and out the

  front door.

  The cold air hit them. Jacob took a deep, angry breath, like

  a man in need of cleansing his lungs. “So many against one

  man. He must have stolen something here—from a nobleman,

  or perhaps a member of the royal family. Is this how your king

  conducts an interrogation?”

  She felt her spine stiffen. “Nicholas would never treat

  another human being that way, not even his worst enemy. It

  was the Brotherhood. They have infiltrated Laurentia all the

  way to Montanyard. We must help him, Jacob.”

  “You are a little fool, Sera.” Jacob steered her into an alcove

  where there was some small shelter from the biting wind. “Face

  facts. You put Arkadia in danger when you brought the thief

  past the cliffs. You rode out into this carnage alone, unschooled

  in the arts that would keep you safe. Do you think we can trust

  this Rostov with our secrets any more than we could trust

  Galerien?”

  “He is nothing like Galerien!”

  “Look at you, clothed in lace and furs yet shivering in the

  freezing wind. You have lived with this corruption for so long,

  your judgment is clouded.” Jacob’s eyes burned into her soul.

  “Your oath on it, Sera. Not a word to Rostov or any other

  Outlander. About the Heart of Fire, about Arkadia, about me.

  Do you understand me? On your sacred honor, not a word.”

  Sera shook her head numbly. “You cannot know what you

  ask, or you would never ask it.”

  Jacob’s face was stern and implacable. “The oath, Sera, for

  the good of your country.”

  The blood seemed to seep from her veins, leaving her

  insubstantial as a dead leaf hanging by a thread from a bare

  branch. She took a deep breath. “By the gods and the sacred

  One they represent, I shall never break trust in these matters

  even under threat of death, imprisonment, or loss of all that is

  dear to me.” The formal words that had kept Arkadia safe in

  times of upheaval came out in a bare whisper.

  Jacob nodded, and his expression softened. “You will come

  with me tomorrow, safe and warm in a plain gray Hill cloak.”

  “I cannot leave them.” She felt her soul rip itself in two and

  almost cried out with the pain of it.

  “Listen to me. The Heart of Fire is gone. In little more than

  a week, the cliffs will close for good. I shall not argue this matter

 

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