Artesans of Albia: 02 - King's Champion

by Cas Peace

  Shaking his head, Bull poured the requested drink. Her hands were trembling as she accepted it and he frowned. She smiled up at him.

  “I will rest soon, Bull, but there are things we need to discuss right now.”

  Marik entered the hut as she outlined her plan. When she mentioned returning to the mansion to enable Marik to collect what he would need in order to accompany her to the Hierarch’s Citadel, the Count protested.

  “There’s no point in me coming with you, Sullyan. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but they’ll shoot me on sight. Even if they don’t, my presence won’t help your cause. I’m a traitor, and you’ll be accused along with me.”

  “I will not leave you behind, my friend. You are no traitor, and my testimony will convince the Hierarch of your loyalty.”

  Marik shook his head. “Why should he listen to you? I’ve been Rykan’s subject since I took my father’s lands. The word of an Albian—and a woman at that—isn’t going to carry any weight in Caer Vellet.”

  “Maybe not, but the word of a Master-elite Artesan surely will.”

  Marik fell silent, but his troubled eyes clearly betrayed his misgivings. Sullyan sighed. Her strength was fast disappearing.

  “Do you not see?” she said, willing him to understand. “Placing yourself under my protection and throwing yourself on the Hierarch’s mercy is your only sane course of action. The alternatives are exile and death, neither of which I will countenance.”

  Marik threw up his hands. “Oh, very well. At least the Hierarch isn’t known for torturing traitors. Death at his hands should be quick.”

  His acceptance relieved her, despite her annoyance at his attitude. Rienne was watching her with concern, and when she suggested another healing session, Sullyan didn’t refuse. She knew how close she was to collapse. When it was over, Rienne pressed some food on her and then insisted she sleep for an hour or so. Once again, Sullyan obeyed, retreating to the bed by the fire.

  * * * * *

  Sullyan quickly fell asleep and Rienne tried to calm her fears for the Major’s health. She knew how deeply Marik’s resistance had drained her, and the younger woman’s prediction regarding the seal on Rykan’s poison was weighing on Rienne’s mind. So it was a welcome distraction when Robin drew her, along with the others, to the far end of the hut. Bull served everyone fellan, and while they sat at the small table savoring the brew, the Captain asked Marik for an account of Sullyan’s imprisonment.

  Clearly, the Count wasn’t happy, and Rienne suspected he didn’t trust Robin’s earlier forced apology. If the young Captain still held Marik responsible for Sullyan’s capture, then telling the tale could easily result in another confrontation. Rienne felt sure the Count would refuse. Then Bull added his weight to Robin’s request.

  “Count, we need to know. I understand it won’t be easy to hear or to tell, so I’ll ask you to be brief. Just tell us what you can.”

  The Count looked down at his hands, anywhere but at the taut faces around him. “Brief?” He took a steadying breath. “Rykan came back after you left. He never intended to return to Kymer. He simply went far enough to ensure the council session was well underway. I didn’t know it then, but he’d brought his own servants with him, and they must have put something in the food we ate. The first I knew was when I woke in one of Rykan’s carriages, along with three other members of my court. We were taken to Rykan’s palace and confined to our rooms. No one would tell us what was going on, and the palace was in uproar. From what we heard through the door, it was clear that Rykan was in a frighteningly violent rage. His people seemed in mortal fear of their lives, and with good reason as it turned out, because I heard later that he actually killed some of them. It wasn’t until the terror died down that I discovered he had also abducted Sullyan.

  “He held a feast, which we were all required to attend. There was no sign of his earlier rage. When Sullyan was brought into the room, he fawned over her as if she was an honored guest rather than a prisoner in spellsilver. I learned then that his ‘invasion’ of Albia was nothing more than a ruse to get Sullyan sent to my manor as an envoy from your king.

  “The spellsilver had affected Sullyan badly, and she hardly had the strength to speak. Rykan kept trying to wheedle his way round her, trying to get her to agree to some kind of alliance between them. She refused, but the strain was evident. I managed to catch her eye, to let her know I would help where I could, but I don’t know if she understood.”

  Rienne glanced over at the sleeping form on the bed, wondering where Sullyan’s reserves of strength came from. Marik’s low voice continued and she turned her attention back to his narrative.

  “I next saw her about three days later. I think Rykan was beginning to realize just how strong she was, even without her Artesan powers. He has a well-deserved reputation as a brutal womanizer, and I doubt he’s ever dealt with a female as stubborn as her. He would never have tolerated such resistance from an Andaryan woman. Any female who dared to show such spirit would be killed.”

  Robin gave a skeptical grunt and Marik glared at him. “Believe me, he’s done it before! But it was different with Sullyan. He coveted her powers, and as you know, no Artesan can take another’s powers by force. He had to ‘persuade’ her to give them up, torment her and wear her down until she gave in. He had to endure her obstinacy, and I can only imagine how it infuriated him.”

  He dropped his eyes, his face pale. “Then he tried another tactic. He told her, in front of us all, that if she continued to refuse him, he would treat her the same way he was treating her horse. He showed her a whip which still bore traces of blood and black hairs. I think that was the first time she reacted to anything he said to her. She didn’t know he was abusing her horse. He saw her anger and laughed in her face. Then he ordered his guards to strip her naked, and he used that horsewhip on her until she fell to her knees.”

  Robin made a strangled sound and Rienne covered her face. She felt sick. Some of those lashes had cut to the bone.

  Marik’s voice wavered. “She hardly made a sound except right at the end. I think that’s what Rykan was waiting for, to hear her acknowledge him. She was virtually unconscious by the time he stopped and ordered his guards to throw her in the cells. That’s when I made my first mistake.”

  He stopped and they all stared at him, horror in their eyes. Outside, rain was drumming on the roof but Rienne barely noticed.

  Marik shook his head. “I didn’t realize I had risen to my feet. What did I think I was going to do? Surrounded by the Duke’s men, there was nothing I could do, even if I was armed, which of course I wasn’t. All I did was draw attention to the fact that I didn’t agree with what Rykan was doing. I remember the look he gave me when he realized I might have feelings for her. I wish now—” He broke off and heaved a huge sigh.

  “I managed to get into her cell. I overheard one of the jailors saying it was a shame the way Rykan had used her, and I played on his feelings. She was barely conscious when I went in, but I managed to get her to drink some water. I cleaned her wounds as best I could and covered her with straw. Before I left, she made me promise to try to release her horse. It wasn’t easy, but, as you know, I eventually succeeded. Rykan’s horse master received a flogging, but he deserved it for the way the poor brute had been treated.”

  Marik paused to take a sip of cold fellan. Bull rose and fetched more. Rienne curled her hands gratefully around the cup, the warm liquid helping to dispel the chill brought on by listening to the Count’s dreadful tale. She didn’t really want to hear any more, but they were locked into it now. She sat helpless, hardly able to imagine the horrors Sullyan had suffered.

  Marik glanced plaintively at Bull. “I don’t suppose you have anything to fortify this fellan with?”

  Bull fetched his bottle of firewater and passed it round. They all took some of the burning liquid, even Rienne. After a long swallow, Marik went on.

  “The day after I released the horse, Rykan shut himself away with h
is generals. I don’t know if his next move was his own idea, or theirs. He might have intended it all along, or maybe he was just indulging his brutal nature. That night, after the evening meal, he was in a better mood. I was very frightened because I thought he must finally have defeated her. But I was wrong.”

  He sounded strained. “He followed me when I went back to my rooms. He never spoke, just gave me a mean look and ordered his guards to bring me. When I realized he was taking me to the cells, I was certain of a sword through my guts. But he had something even worse in mind. He went to Sullyan’s cell and opened the door.”

  Marik’s alien eyes were unfocused, dilated with remembered fear. Sweat beaded his face. To stop his hands from shaking, he clasped them so tightly round his cup that the knuckles turned white.

  “Sullyan raised her head as Rykan entered, and she saw me standing behind him. I fully believe, in that moment, she was more afraid for me than herself. Rykan stood over her, asking if she had reconsidered his offer. She didn’t speak, maybe she couldn’t, but when he saw the defiance in her eyes, he smiled.

  “I swear—I swear—I had no idea what he intended until I saw him unbuckle his sword belt. Either he sensed my horror, or maybe I made a noise, for he ordered the guards to hold me. They already had swords at my back, but one of them took hold of my arms as well. If he hadn’t, I think I would have tried to stop Rykan, even though I would have lost my life.”

  He stopped, unable to continue. Tears welled in his eyes as he stared down at his trembling hands. Rienne waited for him to compose himself, but he sat unmoving. Then a husky voice sounded behind him.

  “Go on, Ty.”

  He started like a frightened rabbit and spun round to meet Sullyan’s gaze. None of them had noticed her rouse. Rienne felt certain she had heard every word, despite appearing to be deeply asleep.

  The Count looked mortified, but Sullyan smiled gently. “You are doing very well, Ty. Tell them the rest.”

  She closed her eyes again. Marik swallowed awkwardly and resumed his narrative, using a detached tone.

  “Rykan forced himself on her in that filthy cell, cruelly and with no remorse. She cried out when he took her, but then made no sound until he was nearly done, which I think inflamed him even more. I could see how hard she fought to stay silent, although he was being deliberately brutal. When he finally pushed himself from her, he stood looking down at her with a self-satisfied smile on his face. He told her that it didn’t matter now whether she surrendered her power or not. He would continue taking his pleasure on her for as long as he wished. He knew, and more importantly, made sure she knew, what the consequences of his ravishment were.

  “He left then, smiling as he fastened his breeches, striding past me like I didn’t exist. He even took the guards with him. He just left me there, knowing there was nothing I could do to harm him, or help her.”

  Tears rolled down his face, but he didn’t notice. Rienne gulped back her own sorrow while the others sat with stunned expressions on frozen faces.

  “I sat holding her,” said the Count, “and that was the only time I saw her give way to what she was feeling. Then the jailor threw me out and I had to return to my rooms. From then on I was watched, and Rykan forced me to witness his abuse twice more. I think he got as much pleasure from my horror as he did from hers. Hearing her scream seemed to encourage his brutality. He always left me with her afterward, possibly hoping I would try to persuade her to surrender. He judged me rightly, for I wanted to. Short of killing her, it was the only way I could think of to help her.”

  He finally fell silent, his head in his hands, his whole body trembling.

  Sullyan cast aside the blanket, rose from the bed, and crossed to where the Count sat. Gathering him into her arms, she held him, tears glistening in her eyes.

  “Rykan did not judge you rightly, my friend,” she murmured, “for you did not seek to weaken my resolve. On the contrary, your comfort gave me the strength to hold out as long as I did. But let me tell you this. If he had threatened your life instead of brutalizing me, I would have given him what he wanted. So he can blame his own lustful nature for the failure of his plan.”

  This declaration of affection rendered Marik incapable of speech, so Sullyan raised her head and took up the tale herself.

  “I knew by then you would be trying to reach me, and I was desperate to slip past the effects of the spellsilver. That was when I thought of using the pain and horror of Rykan’s abuse to lend strength to my efforts. I especially thought of you, Rienne, because of your experience with Parren’s corporal that day at the Manor. I thought you might recognize the feelings for what they were.”

  Rienne gasped. “I never even thought of that! I knew the nightmares were something to do with you. I just didn’t consider that I might be able to ‘hear’ you. I wish now I’d paid more attention to what I was feeling.”

  Sullyan smiled gently. “Do not reproach yourself. I was not even certain that my call had gone further than the walls of my own skull. As the days passed and Rykan kept up his abuse, I knew I could hold out no longer. He knew it too, and on the final occasion he took great delight in telling me, at the height of his pleasure, that he was bound the next day for Caer Vellet, to issue his formal challenge to the Hierarch. In doing so, he made a fatal mistake. By telling me his plan, he gave me courage to form my own, although I did not want to use it. When next I saw Marik, I told him I intended to feign defeat when Rykan returned. It would not be much of a feint, my resistance was almost gone. I think my sanity was not what it should have been. I believe I frightened you, Ty.”

  From the circle of her arms, Marik smiled. “I don’t mind admitting it.”

  She carried on. “I had lost all hope that you would reach me in time. I never doubted you would come eventually, but I was so weak that I knew I could let go of life if Rykan pushed me further. My only concern was whether I could convince him to drop his guard long enough for me to catch his mind, and hold on while I destroyed us both. In the event, of course, I did not have to, for you did come in time, and I am very grateful. You put yourselves in grave danger, and I can never repay you.”

  There was an awkward silence. To end it, Rienne rose from her chair and gave Sullyan a brief but fierce hug, mindful of her sore ribs. She then did the same to Marik, adding a kiss on the cheek for good measure. He colored and ducked his head.

  Robin also stood. He held out his hand to Marik, who took it with a bashful grin. The Count found all this sudden approval hard to accept.

  Sullyan crossed to the fire and poured herself a cup of fellan. She had been so dehydrated that she couldn’t get enough. Then she sat heavily on the bed and Rienne frowned. The Major was still very weak. How would she possibly find the strength to do what she had planned?

  Chapter Six

  Sullyan sat watching while the men busied themselves cutting and stacking firewood, returning the hut to the condition in which they had found it. Rienne packed their food supplies and cooking gear. With Taran’s help, Bull scouted the route back to Marik’s mansion and reported nothing unusual. The area seemed as deserted as when they had left three days before. Sullyan felt relief.

  The worst of the rain had passed by the time they were ready to leave. The Major permitted Rienne to examine her, and the healer declared herself satisfied that Sullyan could cope with the ride. The Count, who had gone outside to saddle the horses, came back looking as if he had something on his mind. He approached Sullyan where she sat on the bed and stopped before her. She gazed at him as he extended his hand, palm upward. He held a small leather pouch, closed at the neck by a thong. Embarrassed, he was unable to meet her eyes. He spoke tersely.

  “I managed to save these for you. The jailor, Calder, had stolen them. He’d have been killed if Rykan found out, and anyway, I didn’t want Rykan to have them.”

  Hardly daring to hope, Sullyan took the pouch. She loosened the tie and tipped it up. A little cascade of gold and fire opals tumbled into her waiting han
d. She gasped. She hadn’t expected to see them again, and it had hurt her deeply to think they were gone. She was certain Rykan had taken them. They were a part of who she was, and she had missed them as much as she would a hand or a foot.

  She sat staring at the gems through a blurred mist. Then she rose and threw her arms around the thoroughly embarrassed Count. Releasing him, she placed the ring on her middle finger and the studs in her ears. She put the necklace back into the pouch. Her neck where the spellsilver had burned her was still too sore to wear it. She handed the pouch to Robin for safekeeping.

  “Ty, this is one more debt I need to repay,” she said, but he waved her gratitude away.

  Taran, Cal, and Marik went outside to secure the packs while Bull and Rienne swept out the hearth, folded the blankets, and checked that all was as they had found it. There was nothing they could do to replace the hay and grain their horses had consumed, so Sullyan instructed Bull to leave some coins on the table. He was about to leave when she stopped him, one hand on his arm.

  “Bull, what happened to the spellsilver?”

  The question puzzled him and he raised his brows. “I think Marik disposed of it. Why?”

  She closed her eyes, pain and weariness swamping her. “Apart from not wanting it to cause anyone danger, there is a faint possibility that I might find a use for it. Please ask Ty what he did with it.”

  With a disapproving frown, Bull strode to the door and questioned Marik. The Count was alarmed by the query and stared narrowly at Sullyan. “I buried it,” he said, pointing to a spot behind the barn.

  “I am sorry, Ty, but I will have to ask you to undo your hard work.”

  He scowled, but went to fetch a shovel, unearthing a dirty sacking roll. Unwilling to touch it with his hands, he used the shovel to bring the exposed silver to her.