The rod went in with little resistance, a reassuring sign. Ease likely meant I had it at the proper angle. I held it in place for several seconds and then withdrew it. I tossed it back in the fire and then grabbed the handle of the small brand Tad said he used to mark the leather man's wares. This I ran back and forth across the wound several times and then pressed against it, leaving an SW (the leather man's initials) forever branded on Merius's shoulder.
"Good God," Ragnar muttered, releasing his hold on Merius and stepping back from the table with the other men. "You must have done that before, Mordric."
"A long time ago during a battle." I took several swigs from the whiskey bottle and stared down at Merius. He was still unconscious, and I hoped he remained so for awhile.
Safire crept up beside me. She touched my arm, her witch power flowing into my veins with a tingling warmth. I glanced at her, her shadowed eyes and taut face, and remembered how we had stood together in Queen Jazmene's reception chamber in Sarneth, waiting while the palace physician set Merius's arm after Toscar had broken it during their duel. That had been only seven months ago. Seven months, and here he was, risking his life again. Had I known he would be the only one of my children to survive infancy, I would have taken more of an interest in his early training, even though such was considered the mother's sphere. By the time Arilea handed me the reins, he was eight and already set in his ways. The one person he feared was me, but fear only went so far when it came to disciplining someone as clever and stubborn as Merius. I hadn't known that at the time. I hadn't known a lot of things then that I knew now, and as I looked down at my battered and bloodied son, I cursed my youthful ignorance.
Later, after Merius had regained his wits, I helped him roll over and then sit up on the table. There he stayed in a semi-conscious stupor as Safire bandaged him and made a sling for his right arm from a sheet. Ragnar and his guards had returned to the magistrate headquarters, and Tad and his journeymen were at lunch, which left us three alone for the time being. Safire took the opportunity to draw away his pain with her witch touch. I watched as she held her hands over his shoulder, her eyes shut, so intent on the task that her entire body shuddered. Every minute or so, she would place her hands in a nearby basin of water. When the water started to steam, I reached for her arm.
"Stop," I said. "At least for now."
She nodded and stepped back, examining Merius. "I know he said not to heal him, but . . . but this is awful. It feels like he's being burned from the inside out. I draw away his pain, but it's as pointless as drawing away the ocean with a bucket. If I could heal him, I could fix what's causing the pain and . . ."
"No, Safire," Merius mumbled.
"But . . ."
"I said no." His eyes mere slits, he met her gaze. "All this is for naught, if I have no wound to show for it. 'Sides, what about Dominic? He needs you more." I was about to ask who the hell Dominic was when Merius clumsily patted her middle with his good hand, and then I understood. I shook my head. Trust them to have already named the child months before his birth. The triumph of hope over experience--these two were living proof of it.
"Where are the assassins when you need them?" Safire said, her tone biting. "A good dose of the Ursula's Bane would be a godsend right now."
I glared at her. "Don't speak of them here."
"Sorry. It's just I don't understand--they use the Bane to subdue us, so why can't it be used for pain?"
"Too expensive," Merius muttered. "Also unpredictable effects. Remember my violent nightmares?"
"But they dared use it on me when I'm with child, and nothing bad happened. Surely it could only help with how much pain you're in right now, no matter how unpredictable the effects." Safire began to rub Merius's shoulder.
"It thins most people's blood--a lot. Bad for surgery," Merius added.
"How do you know that?" she asked, her hand growing still.
"Rankin and I studied it--lots about it in some of his books." Merius swiveled his head in my direction. "Father," he said, as if surprised to see me. We held each other's gazes for a moment. "Thank you," he continued finally. "You saved my life--can't have been easy."
"It wasn't. You're welcome, Merius."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Landers Hall, Silmer Province, Eastern Cormalen
July, 3 years ago
The journey back to Landers Hall took a day and a half. Even though Merius and I were both impatient to see what had transpired with the peasants now that the summons had been delivered to Sullay, we could only travel so fast with someone in his condition. I feared infection--infection from wounds in battle killed more soldiers than the wounds themselves. Cauterization sometimes worked, sometimes didn't. Particularly given the nearness of the arrow to his lung and blood vessels to his right arm, Merius was still in danger. Safire kept a close watch on him and drew away the pain as many times a day as he would allow her.
We reached Landers Hall late in the evening of the second day. Despite the fact it was after nine o'clock, people poured down the front steps with lanterns and candles in their hands, their faces glowing in the darkness. Dagmar and Elsa threw themselves at Safire as Selwyn, Randel, and Jared examined Merius's injuries and asked him about the arrow. I noticed Lem Rivers and Ebner hovering behind them, watching and listening. When they saw the bandage on Merius's shoulder and heard his story, they exchanged glances. Then they looked at me. I nodded, and they melted into the night. By morning, not only our peasants would know what had transpired on Sullay's estate, but the entire province as well.
After a few minutes, Safire shooed everyone away from Merius. "He needs to rest," she declared, looking fierce as a firebrand with her hair aflame in the lantern light. Then she allowed Jared and me to help him up the steps to the bedchamber.
We got him settled against the pillows (Safire had a very particular way of arranging them so he could sit up but not put any pressure on the back of his shoulder.) Safire kissed him on the jaw and smoothed the hair from his forehead. "I'll be back with some food," she murmured. His eyes trailed after her as she and Jared went out the door. Then he sighed and gave a rueful chuckle.
"I should be grateful to Sullay," he said. "My brush with death has made Safire forget we had a fight over this business with Peregrine." He frowned and looked toward the window, the flickering candle reflected in the glass. "Have you had her write the letter to him yet?"
"Not yet--the peasants and Sullay have taken all my time." I paused for a moment. "Besides, I don't want to be too hasty about it--it has to be phrased just right, especially now he knows she's a witch. In fact, it would be better to leave it unsigned and unsealed but have him believe it's from her. That way, when the charges against him come before the council . . ."
"It would be best to avoid the council altogether. If Cyranea gets the evidence I think she will, it might be possible to convince him to leave without a fight before the council."
"How? Peregrine's an influential merchant--it doesn't matter what evidence we have, there's no way he's going without a bloodbath in the council chamber."
"Father, we can't afford to have her dragged into that. Even the hint of witchcraft to some of the councilors . . ." Merius trailed off with a shudder. "I can't bear to think of it."
"Well, what do you suggest then?"
Merius met my gaze. "He's far from stupid. He knows he could lose his head if this goes before the council and we have the right evidence. He'll be desperate--his only power will be his belief she's a witch. We have to seize that power from him before he uses it against us. You say he's obsessed with her, wants to protect her." He grimaced, apparently disgusted. "Perhaps we can tell him that we'll cast her out as a witch unless he leaves quietly, that I believe her to have tender feelings for him, and I'm so upset by it that I'm willing to see her burn if he doesn't leave without a fight."
"God, Merius, that's twisted," I exclaimed. "He'll come sneaking back for her, though. You know he will--he hates losing as much as we do, and he sees her a
s his prize."
"Then either I or the assassins can kill him. Whatever I have to do to keep her safe from witch hunters." He shook his head. "This is out of control, Father. Peregrine knows, and I'm certain our future queen Esme suspects."
I sighed. "Esme won't say anything--surely King Rainier has instructed her not to say anything. Rainier wants both you and Safire safe . . ."
"That he does," came a deep voice in Sarns. Both Merius and I started as the brute assassin stepped into the chamber, the same hulking man who had confronted me in my rooms at court. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, his eyes gleaming like coals as he looked from me to Merius.
He held up his hand--I noticed he wore gauntlets this time. "My brethren of the assassins guild will not risk their lives for you again, young sir," he said, staring at Merius. "We've had quite enough of your schemes."
Merius raised his brows. "Though I appreciate your help on the Sullay estate, I never asked for your aid. Forgive me, but what did you expect when you took this assignment? I'm the son of a high noble House, with duties both here and at court. I can hardly sit at home and twiddle my thumbs."
"If you risk yourself like that again, we will take her and the child to Sarneth."
Merius drew straight with a wince. "Like hell you will. She'll never go along with that."
"That's why we have Ursula's Bane."
"You son of a bitch. What of the mind bond? You can't forcibly separate us like that. She could go mad if the bond is severed against her will."
"We have ways," the assassin continued, impassive. "You're valuable to King Rainier, yes, but you can be replaced. She, however, can't be replaced. Even with her mind broken, she can still be highly useful. Your child can be highly useful once it's trained. You, on the other hand--we won't allow your schemes to control our movements again, which is why my brethren have just seized her and her maid . . ."
All the blood left Merius's face, his jaw set. "What? Where are they taking her?"
"To her ancestral home--we can guard her there, keep her safe until this mess with the peasants is resolved. When it's done, you can go see her, but not before. My fellow assassins--three in all--went with her. She's well protected."
"I thought there were only three of you, not four," I remarked.
"King Rainier sent another to provide us some relief and more time to rest. This assignment has proven quite bothersome." He fixed Merius with another glare.
Interesting. "I appreciate you keeping Safire safe," I said when it became apparent that Merius was too choked with rage and pain to manage much more than a snarling sputter. "Please accept my apologies that our intrigues put you and your men in danger. However, as Merius said, you must understand that in our positions, we have certain duties to fulfill. Also, I hardly think King Rainier will find it ideal if you return to Sarneth with only Safire and her unborn child, especially after he had to send a fourth assassin to assure his orders are followed." I kept my tone light, my unblinking gaze fixed on the assassin. "His Majesty wants several children born of the mind bond, does he not, so that he has--and forgive this insulting term, but I know no better way to put it--his pick of the litter?"
"Father," Merius managed.
"Better we be blunt about this, Merius, so we all know where we stand." I kept my gaze on the assassin, who had grown still, listening to me. "What if this child she carries has no abilities? What if this child she carries is stillborn? If she undergoes the anguish of being forcibly parted from my son, it's not outside the realm of possibility she could suffer a miscarriage, and you would have caused it with your haste and panic. I suggest you think of these things before you make any more threats to us. It's not us you'll have to worry about when something goes wrong, but King Rainier--he's the one who hired you, and he seems the sort to expect his orders followed to the letter. Why would you go to the bother of confronting us like this unless my son is more valuable to your plan than you would have us believe? What happened to the other pregnant witches? More importantly to you, what happened to the men guarding them? Did they panic as well?"
The assassin shifted, watching me closely. "All I said is true, graybeard, and you speak a lot of nonsense. There are no other pregnant witches."
"No, not anymore, just like there are no other assassins guarding them. Not anymore. I just like to speculate out loud sometimes. Never mind me."
"Believe me, we won't. You heed what I said, young sir," the assassin spat in Merius's direction. Then he vanished out the door as quickly as he had arrived.
Merius looked at me. "What other pregnant witches? What are you talking about?"
"Surely you don't think this is the first time King Rainier's experimented with witches and warlocks, do you?" I retorted, then noticed his stricken expression and realized I had probably been too harsh.
"Oh hell, Father." His voice broke as he covered his eyes with one hand. "Not her. Not Dominic. This has gone too far. I don't care if King Rainier is the most powerful man in the world--there has to be some way to stop this."
"Shh. Lower your voice." I touched his shoulder. "Listen, I think I just scared him with what I said. No matter what he threatens, he knows I'm right, and I bet they'll back off. And if they don't, I'll write to King Rainier. Best to pretend to comply for now until we can figure a sure way out of this. All right?"
His head jerked in a nod. The door opened again, and I started before I realized it was Jared with a tray.
"I don't know what happened to Lady Safire," he said. "I turned around on the way to the kitchen, and she was gone."
"She had to return to her family house suddenly. It's for the best--she'll be safer there until we sort out this business with Sullay and the peasants." Which was the truth--I didn't appreciate the assassins' methods, but I was glad that Safire would be tucked away safe at the House of Long Marsh for the duration.
"Oh--if you say so, sir." His brow furrowed as he looked at Merius. "Are you all right, Sir Merius?"
Merius lifted his head, his eyes gleaming suspiciously. "I'm fine," he said shortly. "My shoulder pains me a bit, is all."
"Jared, if you could sit by him for awhile and inform me of any change, I would appreciate it. I'll be in my chamber."
"Of course, sir." I could feel his eyes boring into my back as I left, and I cursed the assassins again. Jared was too clever to fool for long. There were a number of people at the hall who were too clever to fool for long.
I quaffed some more whiskey before I snuffed the candle and climbed into bed, still in my clothes. My arm behind my head, I stared into the shadows above me, sleep hours away, if it ever came. Where was Eden when I needed her?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Landers Hall, Silmer Province, Eastern Cormalen
August, 3 years ago
“Sir!” Randel hurried into my study, his livery askew and his face flushed. “Sir!”
I half rose. “What is it?” In his quarter century of service to me, I had never seen the man in such a state.
“There’s a huge band of peasants in the courtyard demanding to see you--they have Sir Sullay hostage . . .”
“Damn it.” I had taken my sword and scabbard off when I had sat down to go over last month’s ledgers. My fingers stiff from holding the pen too long, it took me a long moment to buckle the scabbard back on my belt. “All right--stay at my back, Randel.”
“What about Sir Selwyn? Do you want him?”
“Only if he can keep his mouth shut.” Thank God Randel was here. He was a good man to have at my back, proficient with a blade and clever enough to understand what was happening. The same could not always be said for Selwyn.
When we left the study and started down the hall, Merius, Selwyn, and several servants came around the corner near the landing. Merius had somehow strapped on his sword scabbard, even though his right arm was still in a sling. Likely Jared had helped him. It had only been a few days since his misadventure on Sullay's estate, and his collarbone would be mending for some time
yet.
"What do you think you're doing?" I barked at him.
"I'm left-handed," he announced, as if it were some major revelation. "I can still draw my sword, Father."
I wanted to curse but restrained myself. There wasn't time for an argument with Merius. Besides, perhaps it would be politically advantageous for him to come out so everyone could see him with his arm in a sling. After all, it was likely the rumor of his injuries at Sullay's hands that had prompted the peasants to take Sullay hostage.
“Sir,” Selwyn babbled, “they’re almost on the steps . . .”
I held up my hand, and all fell silent. “Listen, all of you. I’ll talk to them. The only two I want with me are Randel and Merius. The rest of you can wait in the hall by the stairs. If they try to come in the house, guard our backs until we get inside, then slam the doors shut and bolt them. Baldwin and Ross--you two stay at the doors, one on each side.”
They all thudded after us down the stairs and into the main hall. Dagmar appeared from the direction of the east wing, her face pale but composed. “You get back to the kitchens and stay there. Gather any other women you find and keep them with you,” I ordered.
Dagmar’s eyes flashed as she nodded. Then she turned with a swirl of her skirt and quickly trotted back the direction she had come. The breath came short and shallow in my chest, so I deliberately paused a moment, gradually deepening my breathing until my ribs felt stretched. It was a simple method, one of the first things I had taught Merius when he started to master the sword. Deeper breathing meant better thinking, and hence, better fighting. Then, my hand resting on my sword hilt, I drew open the door and stepped outside, Randel and Merius behind me.
The first person I noticed was Sullay, his silver buttoned doublet disheveled and grimy, his customary hat long gone, the few straggles of his remaining hair waving in the breeze. He resembled a rooster that had been plucked and then dragged through the mud, all his cockiness long vanished. Two strapping yeomen stood at his elbows, restraining him, though they hardly needed to bother at this point. He wasn’t going anywhere.
Phoenix Ashes (The Landers Saga Book 3) Page 30