Lady Trent

by GinaRJ

  Dexter and Kyle worked as spies for him. Several weeks before, Dexter’s brother Patrick had been arrested for supposedly withdrawing information from the emperor concerning the plot against Jacob. He was presently being held at Fort Templeton awaiting transferal to the Northern Isles. Dexter had not known about this…and it was not intended for him to. But Kyle had let it slip during some debate about loyalty and bloodlines. Marcus had done well to detain both men following the ordeal. They were being held and guarded outside of the city in Harp, in a secluded place that only he and Byron knew about.

  Later, he decided, he would have them transported away from the Great City…not that either of them were literal prisoners, but for now they must live as if they were.

  How complicated things were quick becoming. He could not recall having ever lost so much control over an endeavor in his life.

  Edwin did not stop him when he came to the entrance of Jacob’s quarters. He did not tell him Jacob was not there or that he was not accepting anyone. This, of course, meant just the opposite. Marcus was certain he was expecting him.

  He opened the doors and entered, instantly spotting Jacob on the other side of the room, staring at a fire in the hearth. He closed the doors and after a hesitant stare made his way toward him, circling around a rectangular table and two chairs so as to be seen. Even after he’d circled around Jacob did not look at him, but raised his glass of liquor and swallowed its contents.

  “Marcus,” he eventually acknowledged with a flat voice. He began refilling his glass. “Sit down.”

  He took the chair opposite him, sitting on the edge, leaning forward, his elbows pressed onto his knees. He stared at the floor for a time thinking of the right words to break the deadly silence. In truth, he wasn’t sure what to say. How he hated being caught off guard with unforeseen events such as had taken place that night.

  “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” Jacob finally asked, calm-like. “And do not say it was nothing, Marcus, I will not believe it.”

  “They both work for me,” he replied without hesitation. “They have been spying upon messengers in the northern regions.”

  “In regards to what?”

  “Correspondence related to your affairs from the Northern Plains, specifically.”

  “Why?”

  “Precautions.”

  “What precautions?”

  “I have suspicions that someone is plotting against you.”

  “Who?”

  “I do not know.”

  “And you have kept this from me? Why would you do that, Marcus? Hum? Would you not want to know if your life was in danger?”

  “These are suspicions, Jacob, nothing more. I would not trouble you with them.”

  “I know you well enough to know, my friend, that you do not become suspicious for no reason at all, nor would you take any such precautions without sufficient proof.”

  To that, Marcus said nothing.

  Jacob set his glass aside and stood. Hands behind his back, he went to stare out the window. It was dark out—well after midnight. But the city was lit up beautifully so far as the eye could see, dazzling that time of night.

  “I have never known you to lie to me. Have you?”

  “Never intentionally.”

  Jacob turned. “Is the emperor aware of these so-called suspicions?”

  His eyes bored into his, contribution to at least a half-truth.

  “I expressed it in so many words,” he said, convinced that the emperor, were he aware of what was happening now, would not want him to disclose any specific information. This was Jacob’s attempt at seeing how serious of a matter it was, for if the emperor was aware of it, it was serious, indeed. As of now, it seemed as if those who were against him had been pursuing a reaction from him: messages purposely sent out to him, and thankfully blocked by some very trustworthy men. Amos had done an excellent job keeping the coded messages from entering the palace, except they had been handed over to Pearce for decoding. Threats. Just threats. Ones Jacob would’ve certainly reacted upon had he known.

  Jacob was back at the table now, refilling his glass. He sat back down and a generous space of silence fell. “You expressed it,” he said. “Personally? Face to face?”

  Marcus inhaled a deep breath, not liking where the conversation was headed.

  “Yes,” he honestly answered.

  “So, then, the so-called ‘suspicion’ has been hidden from me for several months. To the best of my knowledge you and the emperor have not spoken face to face since the third or fourth month.”

  Marcus did not like feeling cornered at all. He felt a rebirth of confidence…which only strengthened as he proceeded.

  “Jacob, do you not recall several years ago when suspicions arose that some of our very own nobles were conspiring against our emperor?”

  Jacob’s brows came together. “You will turn this conversation around against me?”

  “I am making a point…that point being that you hired a handful of trustworthy men to investigate it…and that you not only encouraged, but commanded them to speak of it to nobody…especially the emperor.”

  Jacob didn’t like being cornered any more than he did…and it showed. His expression hardened. He shook his head. “That was an obvious hoax all along.”

  “As this very well could be,” Marcus brashly returned.

  They took some time to collect their thoughts. When push came to shove, they both had tempers, but they had enough power over themselves to keep it from getting the best of them.

  Jacob had leaned back in his seat. He stared forward, simply holding the filled glass and ignoring its contents for the time being.

  “These two men,” he eventually began, “What were they fighting over?”

  “Loyalty.”

  “Loyalty?” Jacob almost laughed.

  “I have been loyal to you,” Marcus defended, a crease in his brow. “Nearly fifteen years.”

  Jacob’s gaze snapped over to his. “Do you have a clue how I, the ruler of this city, of this palace felt when two bickering men chose to honor the command of a guest over his own?”

  “True, they should have answered you.”

  “But you commanded them to be silent.”

  “That was my reaction and I cannot take it back. But those two men have sworn loyalty to me, which was the very thing they were questioning between one another.”

  “And how many more do you have such as these…who would honor your command over that of a nobleman…in his own noble realm?”

  “Would you expect your own servants to honor the command of any noble over yours no matter the place?”

  “There is a difference. I am a noble. A Higher Noble.”

  “What do you think of me, Jacob? Could I not be granted a title if I wished? Do you suppose the emperor would withhold it from me?”

  “Very well,” Jacob eventually replied. “You have proven one point…which now makes me wonder why you have not made the request. It would surely be granted."

  “For now I have my obligations. In due time I imagine I will.”

  “And these two men of yours…what was the discord between them?”

  “It was a simple quarrel, in truth. The brother of the one has been detained in Fort Templeton, and he was not aware of it. The other made him aware and it angered him. To begin with he and his brother were accused of being disloyal. It was a simple, baseless dispute that could’ve stirred up all sorts of rumors had it gone on and they had not been silenced. The most popular of the city were present, and plenty of damsels who would’ve gladly taken part in spreading rumors of vague proportions, simply to have something to say. Now that I think back it was well that I silenced them. Otherwise, by their choice of words, who’s to say the rumors that would by now be spreading…from here into every direction until every ear has been filled with utter nonsense, and every heart with fear over a riot that does not even exist.”

  “It seems to me your imagination has done nothin
g but concoct an entire storybook of nonsense in order to justify your actions.”

  “I do justify my actions.”

  “Well, these men certainly proved their loyalty to you…and before the eyes of the entire city, one might as well say.”

  “It will be forgotten.”

  “Yes, it will. It is something I shall remedy one way or another, be it through fact or fiction.”

  “And upon request I would help you do so.”

  Jacob finally swallowed the contents of his glass and set it aside. Marcus hoped he would calm down. Moods such as this brought back memories of the old Jacob…the one that few could tolerate…ever.

  “This brother…why was he detained?”

  “For withholding information from the emperor.”

  “Related to me and this supposed ‘plot’ against me?”

  “I am not aware of all the details. He is the emperor’s prisoner.”

  “Have you spoken to him?”

  “No.”

  “What is his name? Perhaps I will go and speak with him, myself.”

  “Patrick of Lawrence.”

  Again there was silence. This time Marcus was the one to break it. “I have had concerns of my own, if I may express them. I have heard of your venture into Arlington at the request of the duke, but nothing about your undertakings. Those who went along, which I have heard were mainly guards, some travelling with you and others secretly from afar, a large number at that, will not give details. This concerns me.”

  “Because you believe someone is trying to kill me…that they were luring me into a situation so that they could do so.” He extended his arms. “As you can see I am alive and well.”

  “It is not common for you to keep quiet about your travels. Even in casual conversation you explain them. The fact that you have not in this instance makes me think there is something to hide…something that perhaps you know I would disapprove of.”

  “Am I expected to report to you, Marcus?”

  “All these years you have made me a part of your exploits. Why would you stop now? At this? And nobody may speak of this one in particular, obviously because of a command to keep silent. I will say, this proves that you have surrounded yourself by some very trustworthy men. Even going from man to man I have failed to get any answers except the same one that was obviously instilled in them by your command. That you simply went and nothing is known about it.”

  “Which is true for the most part.”

  There was silence. A grin slowly but surely touched Jacob’s lips and soon he was laughing. Marcus found nothing at all amusing. But it was better to hear him laugh than scolding, and to see him grin opposed to scowling.

  “An excellent point you have made,” he commented. “Ah, Marcus.” He stood. “How long has it been since we had a quarrel?”

  “A very long time.”

  “But I see. I see. I suppose you have some right to be concerned, suspicious of that particular summons. Why did you not simply come to me opposed to hassling my guards for details?”

  “I have grown accustomed to you informing me of such ventures, and prefer it that way opposed to questioning you as if you were under some sort of guardianship.”

  Again there was a space of silence. Jacob’s grin vanished away and he became very serious. “Concerning this trip to Arlington—I knew you would be alarmed, even without this talk of a plot or scheme to take my life…whatever it may be. But I was summoned by Duke Arlington under the request of some Roark officials.”

  Marcus brows drew instantly together. “Roark officials?”

  “I was warned that the king of Roark has been discussing and planning to invade New Ebony and to overthrow the emperor for sure, even that he has transported spies into New Ebony. So, then, I can see your point. While you have kept certain suspicions secret and asked others to do so from me, I am doing the same. The emperor should not hear of this meeting between myself and these officials. I must also assure you of this…when the proper time came, I fully intended to have you investigate the matter.”

  “What did they say, and why? Why would the king’s officials come and warn you that the king is thinking of invading New Ebony?”

  “First answer me this: according to you, you were attacked by some unknown man…a stranger. Is this truly so?”

  “It is,” he honestly replied. “Outside of Sainte Louise I was attacked. I don’t recall having ever been so violently pursued. But the village had already itself been attacked, even weeks prior my arrival there.”

  “Yes, I had heard. Pearce explained it to me. He made a safe return escorted by Sir Andrew of Goth. And at the mention of a stranger’s name I see signs of suspicion all over your face. It is true, Marcus, that you truly think my life is in danger.”

  “I take the slightest act of suspicion seriously when it comes to your life.”

  There was a time of silence.

  “So, then, Pearce is no longer in hiding.”

  “But still falsely charged, and the girl will not speak, protecting the guilty…out of her own guilt, it seems. I have personally warned his accuser against pursuing his life. The matter will be brought before the court in detail. But if anything at all happens to him, he will die.”

  “I have not witnessed Pearce’s livelihood since my return.”

  “He is with the scribes as of now. There he is needed anyway. But as I was saying…this attack. Who do you suppose the man was?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Perhaps these events are linked together.”

  “That the attack was meant to keep me from following you to Arlington? It is impossible to say for sure. But it was successful in holding me up.”

  Another stretch of silence and Jacob finally answered his original question.

  “Over the years there have been rumors…we have all heard them…that Alfred was planning to attack…out of pure vengeance. He’s probably the most foolish king to have ever sat on the Roark throne. But we have grown accustomed to such rumors here and there, and nothing has ever transpired following them. But now, according to a chief Roark official, who is an advisor to Prince Fredrick, there has been some dissention amongst the nobles, and they wish to overthrow the king and place the prince on the throne. The warning has been planted in the hopes we would be prepared prior their attack, and overtake the king’s armies. They have agreed to disclose the location of the king if he, by chance, went into hiding. One suggestion was that we prepare an army and invade Roark before Roark can invade us.” He suddenly stood. “So there you have it, Sir Marcus, an explanation of my visit to Arlington, and a very valid reason as to why I did not want to discuss it.”

  It was a good reason. A very good reason. Just like his was a good reason for keeping the truth hidden—to lie to him directly when questioned. He planned to send a message to the emperor describing what had occurred between the two spies, but not this meeting between these supposed ‘officials’. Of course they both knew that this could be counterfeit…a trap. Marcus was very certain of the possibility. Jacob could have very well walked into a trap. Even heavily guarded. Perhaps he should have taken this as an opportunity to tell him the entire truth. But that would possibly prove devastating in the end. Besides, he had no right to do anything without the authority of the emperor who had already decided it best Jacob did not know, preferring Marcus locate the culprits, which he had failed to thus far do. He felt a surge of both determination and anger. Damn whomever…the king, perhaps. It would appear so. But someone else, he had the feeling, and going by a few clues here and there was certain of it. There were more people involved than the king although it was very likely he craved revenge.

  How he wished he’d had the opportunity to go along with Jacob and hear these men out. Would they have allowed it? Perhaps the man who’d attacked him had done so under the orders of these ‘officials’. Had he been present, would they have persuaded Jacob against it or demanded otherwise? He was just curious.

  And determined. Yes
, he was sick to death of chasing around men with no faces. Sick to death of feeling defeated by the foes, whomever they were, no matter the number of them. And he would discover them. Yes, very soon so help him…

  ******

  The next morning, Jacob’s mood was back to normal. Rachel was thankful. This was the day she would depart for Orland, and she did not want to do so with any tension between them. She wanted things to be normal…and they were.

  She and Jacob ate together, and it was obvious as they did so that they were both recalling that intimate encounter from the night before, one that could have very well led them into making love for the very first time. But, then again, he preferred there be no wine involved if perchance the union ever did take place, and she...well, she was beginning to not care one way or another.

  “I want to apologize for my actions last night,” he at one point said. It was quite evident in his eyes that he wasn’t really the slightest bit sorry.

  “No need,” she told him. “I am not offended.”

  There was another space of silence. He commented on how extravagant she looked. Yes, she had adorned herself almost as a queen. Zaria had assisted in picking out her gown. Tilly had rummaged through the generous assortment of jewelry, choosing bracelets and necklaces of gold and diamonds…earbobs, and a tiara, also of gold with rubies engraved into it. She did look every bit a queen. Those she passed could only hold their breath at first sight of her, and gape with an admiration she noticed and appreciated, and that made her walk very proudly.

  “Perhaps you should have been wed to a king opposed to a petty noble,” he joked.

  “It isn’t too much, is it?”

  “No, no, no…you are wise to present yourself like this…if only the emperor could meet you now as you are. He would be impressed. This is certainly not the image of the woman he has heard about in times past.””

  “What sort of man is he, the emperor?”