The Scarecrow (Master of Malice Book 1)

by Peace, Cas

  “They’re subdued but fit to serve, your Majesty. They were all distressed by what’s happened. They fear they’ve let you down. They fear your anger.”

  Elias shook his head. “If this was some kind of attack I’d say they handled it well if only two of them were affected. I agree with you, Major. We’ll save our censure until we know the facts. Mathias?”

  General Blaine nodded and Robin sighed in relief. Elias was prepared to be reasonable and, disaster though this was, it might actually have helped restore the King’s common sense, which had deserted him during Sofira’s spiteful tirade. If this incident had been calculated to embarrass and discommode their party, it had failed—at least in part.

  “Major,” said Blaine, “will you contact Taran for his report from the city? We might was well do this now, before we retire.”

  Robin cleared his mind and drew deeply on the power of his psyche, allowing his metaforce to flood along the lines and spirals, helixes and twists, reaching for the familiar pattern of Taran’s personal imprint. He tried twice before casting anxious eyes at the waiting General.

  “Sir, I can’t get a response from him. Something’s happened to him. He’s either unconscious or drugged, I can’t be sure which. But whatever is causing his insensibility isn’t good news.”

  + + + + +

  King Lerric staggered into his daughter’s bedchamber, looking haggard and worn. She turned from her mirror to regard him, laying down the gold-backed hairbrush. She watched him in silence as he sagged to the great bed and sat there, breathing heavily and staring at the floor.

  Lerric raised his head to look at his daughter, her figure softened by a wine-red satin night robe and the unbound cloud of her long hair. He wished she would leave it loose more often. It suited her face.

  Sofira’s mouth thinned. She turned her back and continued brushing, watching him in her silver mirror. He gradually recovered his composure and straightened his posture.

  “Gods, I’m glad that’s over. How did I do, Sofira? Do you think he’s satisfied with our performance?”

  Sofira’s spine stiffened, a sure sign she was angry. “And why wouldn’t he be? You were your usual whining self. Why should he have any suspicions you harbor his greatest enemy beneath your roof?”

  Lerric’s blood froze in panic. “Sofira! Keep your voice down. Any of his escort could be sneaking around the place, listening at doors. What if they heard you? What if they search the lower floor and find the stairs to his cell? We’d be carted off for summary execution. We might even suffer the fate decreed for Reen!”

  She tossed him a withering look. “Oh, please! Stop thinking just of yourself. Didn’t I tell you Elias had come to see me? Didn’t I tell you he has no reason to suspect you? No reason at all, unless your spineless gibbering gives him one. You did well enough tonight. Stick to your usual complaining ways and Elias will dismiss you from his mind, as he always does. Go to bed, Father, and leave me to mine. I must write a message to Hezra and inform him of what passed between us. He has forbidden me to see him tonight, so I am denied comfort until this charade is over. If we are fortunate, I’ve managed to so enrage our noble High King he’ll be unable to stomach any more and will leave early. I certainly hope so—I have a wedding to arrange. Now go. Leave me alone.”

  Stung by her tone, Lerric stood. She was growing ever more waspish, more independent of him, more caught up in that dreadful scarecrow lurking like the specter of a tortured death beneath the palace. The thought of those two finally being wed, joined by hand and by body, almost made Lerric physically sick. For one pivotal moment, he considered fleeing back to the High King and confessing all—throwing himself on Elias’s mercy and begging him to rid them of that sinister parasite.

  Later, he would wish that he had, with all the strength of his soul.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Mathias Blaine and Robin meshed psyches, flinging out their combined strength and taking hold of Taran’s unresponsive pattern. No matter how hard they tried, how strongly they called, they couldn’t make Taran hear them. They returned to themselves, the General cursing freely.

  “What the hell’s the matter with him? Why can’t anything go right for once? We’re only away two days. You’d think things could remain in working order for two days.”

  “What do you think has happened, Mathias?” the King demanded. “Is there anything wrong in the city?”

  The General heard the worry in Elias’s tone, but couldn’t completely bite back his irritation. That was the problem with relying on a specialty, he thought. Sooner or later it would let you down. Although he had surrounded himself with others of his kind for as long as he could remember—first Hal Bullen and then the deceased Major Anton before Sullyan and Robin joined the Manor—their scarcity of numbers always persuaded him it was safer to use conventional means of communication. He was well aware how fragile Artesan-led logistics could be. The advent of the College and Taran’s acceptance of the posting to Port Loxton had accustomed him to instant communication. This occurrence, long feared by the General, only served to show how wrong he’d been.

  “I don’t know, Elias. We can’t raise Taran so we have no way of knowing. Major, bespeak Sullyan, will you? Although I doubt she knows anything either. She’d have told us by now if she did.”

  + + + + +

  Sullyan was relaxing with Bull in the suite she and Robin shared on the Manor’s top floor. It was adjacent to General Blaine’s rooms and was much larger than her previous chambers. Although they’d occupied it for three years now, she was only just becoming used to it. It was more suitable for their needs, as it had an extra room for Morgan, but she still didn’t feel as comfortable here as in her old rooms. Too much had happened there for her to easily forget.

  She was thinking over those old times, a mug of Bull’s strong fellan by her elbow and her old friend by her side. She gazed at him as he sprawled in her comfortable chair, legs stretched out, eyes closed. She frowned. He wearied easily these days, and his hair was more gray than brown. When had that happened? She couldn’t recall. He was, of course, nearly sixty years old, and teaching Apprentices in the study of Earth while trying to control Prince Eadan’s talent for pranks must take its toll, but she thought it was more than that. She really ought to speak to him about slowing down. He still trained with her every morning and his physique was as impressive as ever. But within that barrel chest beat a weakened heart that no amount of healing could repair. He’d already had one near-fatal heart seizure. She couldn’t bear to think he might have another.

  She was about to broach the subject when Robin’s psyche impinged on her mind. She caught his tone of anxiety and became instantly alert. Prodding Bull, she included him in her mind as she acknowledged Robin.

  What is it, my love? Is something wrong?

  Her eyes widened as she heard Robin’s news. He ran through all that had happened at the palace, and she didn’t need his telling to feel the impatience and concern that flooded her psyche, emanations coming from the General and Elias. But it was her life mate’s news about Taran that worried her most of all.

  I last heard from him yesterday, she said, when he reported the attack on one of the King’s junior ministers. I have heard nothing since. Does Elias wish me to go to the city?

  She sensed Robin’s mental shrug. He hasn’t asked, but if something’s happened to Taran, our lines of communication are down. After Neremiah’s murder and our suspicions as to the possible culprit, the King’s feeling more than a little jumpy. The last thing he needs is to be out of touch with Levant and Vassa. And we’re getting nowhere here, apart from leaving ourselves open to snide attacks from Lerric’s troops. I don’t know how much longer we’re going to stay.

  This wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Robin, if Lerric has given his men instructions to undermine the King’s escort, he has good reason for it. Tell Elias I recommend he stay for the agreed period, no matter how uncomfortable he might feel. It may be that Lerric is more rattled th
an he seems and is using these attacks to force you all to leave. A protracted stay might just flush out some rats.

  Sullyan sensed Robin’s dubiety through their link. I’ll tell him, but Sofira was pretty vicious to him this evening and he still hasn’t recovered from what she did to him. I don’t know how much more he can take.

  She could appreciate Elias’s discomfort. Sofira never does anything without good cause. If she is being vicious, she is doing it to hurt Elias. Maybe she also hopes to force him to leave. You must try to convince him that by staying and taking her venom, he is refusing to play her game. She will soon lose her nerve. Sofira is not strong without someone behind her, and it cannot be Lerric. He is too weak.

  Robin’s doubt didn’t fade, but he promised to pass on her advice. They broke their link, Sullyan agreeing to contact Robin as soon as she arrived in the city and learned why Taran wasn’t responding. Neither the General nor the King would go to their rest until they knew the city was safe, and she understood why. A small worm of anxiety twisted her own heart on hearing Robin’s news.

  “Bulldog …”

  “Don’t worry, dear heart, I’ll stay and look after the boys. You go. It’s past midnight already. You’ll probably have to wake old Anjer up to tell him what you’re doing.”

  “I have no intention of disturbing the Lord General. I have no time to waste observing the niceties, so I will not trespass on Andaryan soil.”

  Sullyan smiled at the huge man, grateful, as on so many occasions in the past, that his ready acceptance of her decisions and his comforting presence enabled her to act without wasting precious time. She knew her son and Elias’s heir were safe in Bull’s capable hands. She didn’t even need to say the words.

  She shrugged into her jacket and took her sword from its peg on the wall, slipping the weapons belt over her shoulder. Swinging her heavy cloak across her back, she strode from the room, leaving Bull to clear away the fellan cups and check on the two boys, sleeping like curled puppies in the next room.

  Sullyan made her way through the silent Manor, descending the two marble staircases to the ground floor. She emerged into the kitchen courtyard where lamps hung to light the way for those on night duty. No one was about right now and she made it to the horse lines before she encountered anyone else.

  The night duty stable hands saw her coming and had Drum bridled before she entered his stall. The enormous black warhorse whickered a soft greeting and she fondled his ears as the lads completed the harnessing. She led the stud from his stall and out into the freezing night, blessing his even temperament. He didn’t even snort as he was made to leave his warm stall and journey into the cold. Vaulting to his broad back, her sword rearing over her shoulder, she trotted him out of the horse lines and into the lane beyond.

  Reaching for her psyche, she manipulated the substrate as Drum bore her away from the Manor. Without forming a way through, she sent her awareness out toward the distant city, probing the castle parklands for the imprints of people. Finding none, she constructed an Earth-based aperture in the substrate and rode through it into the realm of Endormir.

  Endormir was the first of the four realms, a grassy panorama of open space, a vast country of rolling steppes bordered by sheer mountains. Its indigenous people lived a nomadic life of tents and herds and hunting, and they frequented neighboring Albia in the winter months whenever possible. Endormir suffered ferocious winters with saw-edged winds scything down from the mountains, and those with the talent to escape took their families to warmer climes.

  The night-bound snowscape that appeared as she and Drum emerged from the substrate was at least twenty degrees colder than the one she’d just left. Breath froze instantly and her eyes stung from the extreme cold. Swiftly, she constructed another tunnel, guiding Drum into it before the blood could congeal in their veins. It was a relief to feel the harsh winter air of Port Loxton when they emerged onto the snow-covered grass of the castle parklands.

  The gate guards didn’t see her or the brief shimmer of the trans-Veil construct. Neither did the men patrolling the wall. The first anyone at the castle knew of her arrival was when she cantered Drum into the garrison stable yard and slithered down his ebony shoulder. The man who had been crossing the yard startled when he saw her.

  “Colonel! No one told me to expect you.”

  Captain Valustin was doing late rounds of the garrison. Sullyan took one look at his red-rimmed eyes and haggard face and laid a hand on his shoulder.

  “What has happened, Captain?”

  “You haven’t heard, then? No, of course you wouldn’t have. I think you’d better go see Lord Levant right away. Colonel Vassa’s with him. I imagine they’ll be very relieved you’re here.”

  Sullyan’s eyes narrowed. Nothing seemed amiss at the castle. There was no sign of strife and no untoward military activity. The city was quiet beyond the castle walls. But Valustin’s demeanor was strange and she sensed his extreme distress.

  “Tell me quickly, Val. Why are you out here tonight? It is not your usual duty. Where is Major Denny?”

  Valustin closed his eyes and swallowed. Sullyan was dismayed to see tears glittering when he opened them again. “The Major’s dead, Colonel.”

  She reeled. “Denny, dead? How?” She froze, suddenly fearful, and gripped Valustin’s arm. “What of Taran?”

  The Captain shook his head. “I don’t know how he is.”

  Sullyan could see his grief. He had been a good friend of Denny’s, his second-in-command, for a long time. His heart would be sore over the man’s death, as was hers. Yet she needed details and he was in no condition to give them. She clasped his shoulder gently.

  “Forgive me, Val. Distressing events have clearly occurred. I will attend Lord Levant and come and speak with you later.”

  To give him something to do, she cast him Drum’s reins. Caring for the stud would calm his aching heart and allow him to regain his composure. For herself, her heart was hammering in her breast, as much for the unknown as for the tragedy that had befallen one of her oldest friends.

  She raced for the castle doors, brushing past the astonished guards huddled over their brazier. As she made for the stairway she nearly collided with Princess Seline, who was coming down. The young Princess pulled up sharply, her face turning white. She carried a covered basket and stared at Sullyan with fear and dislike.

  Sullyan was astonished to see the young girl up so late. “Princess. What on earth are you doing down here? Should you not be in your bed?”

  Seline cast her gaze about, as if looking for something, then drew herself up, a hard look in her eye. “I am about my own business, Colonel Sullyan. I am not required to answer to you.”

  Sullyan regarded the young Princess. She could hear her underlying tension and surmised she was about some mischief or other. Yet she could hardly come to harm within the castle walls, and not even Seline could bully the guards into letting her outside on her own at this hour. This issue would keep. Sullyan had more pressing business.

  “Then do not let me detain you, your Highness.” The chill in Sullyan’s tone matched Seline’s. She carried on up the stairs, ignoring the Princess, and after a moment heard Seline continue down.

  Sullyan made for Levant’s rooms and entered after the briefest of knocks. Levant and Vassa started up at her entry, relief showing plain on their faces. She wasted no time on greetings.

  “Gentlemen, tell me everything.”

  + + + + +

  Seline tried to calm her thudding heart after her narrow escape. Another few minutes and she would have been caught going in the side room, for which she had no reasonable explanation. Not that she’d given one for being on the stairs, either, though she knew she had the urgency of Sullyan’s mission to thank for the Artesan’s lack of curiosity. Yet the meeting gave Seline pause and caused her to change her plan. She couldn’t take the risk Sullyan might find time to check on her, or—and this was more likely—that she’d alert Bessie to her whereabouts. Seline must be b
ack in her room and innocently in her bed before anyone could check.

  At the foot of the stairs, she glanced about. No one was in sight. She ducked into the room where she’d left the vagabond, shutting the door behind her. It was pitch dark and she waited for her eyes to adjust. A faint glow from the door guards’ brazier gradually illuminated the square of window and she stood with her back to the door, listening intently.

  She heard nothing. No rustle of clothing, no breathing. Was he still here? Had he left? Had he been discovered? No, the latter wasn’t possible. If he’d been discovered the whole castle would be roused. She drew a little breath. “Well? Are you still here?”

  She jumped as his voice crawled out of the shadows right beside her. “I’m here, your Highness.”

  She was amazed and rather irritated. How could someone so foul-smelling have crept so close without her knowing? She put aside her vexation in favor of haste. Delving into her pocket, she brought out a key and gave it to him.

  “Here’s the key to the east wing. I can’t take you there now. Something’s happened and I might be missed. I have to get back to my room. If I tell you the way, can you get there by yourself?”

  The vagrant grinned, dimly seen in the darkness. “I’ll do my best, your Highness.”

  She glared at him, fearing he was mocking her. “If you’re discovered, I’ll say I’ve never even seen you!”

  “And how will you explain this?” He held up the key, swinging it before her eyes.

  She nearly stamped her foot. “No one knows I have that. Now do you want to know the way, or shall I just leave you here?”

  He bowed to her, and she told him.

  “Thank you, your Highness. Now I think you’d better go.”

  She placed the small basket she’d brought on the table. “Here’s some food. It’s not much, but it was all I could get without arousing suspicion. I can bring you more tomorrow if you like.”