A pause followed in which Goler clearly took pleasure in the sight of her. Trask tensed and his fists clenched, but Tane put his hand on Trask’s shoulder and shook his head.
“Is there something I can do for you?” Anne asked. She had a definite edge to her voice now.
With a smug smile still perched on his damp lips, Goler said, “I just came from Landale Village. I’m looking for Trask. He wasn’t around, so I thought I’d come by and see if you’ve seen him.”
Anne shrugged. “Trask always has something keeping him busy these days. He hasn’t been around here regularly.” Her prim tone had returned, no doubt with full knowledge that Trask could hear every word.
“I see,” Goler replied, though he didn’t sound convinced.
“What is it you wish to speak with him about?”
“I received news about an escaped prisoner from Valcré. I wondered if Trask might know something.”
“And why would that be?”
Goler’s smile stretched into a vicious grin. “Just a guess. Perhaps I’ll stop by Landale again later this evening and see if he’s around. And, when time permits, I’ll come call on you again. Maybe you would join me for an afternoon ride one of these days before the weather turns too hot.”
“My days are usually pretty full. I’ve got new gowns to make, needlework to finish—you know, those sorts of things.” She smiled sweetly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Always something more to do.”
Goler’s grin cooled. “Of course. Nevertheless, keep it in mind. I will ask again.” He nodded to Lady Catherine before his gaze swung back to Anne. “Good day, my ladies.”
Spurs jingled again and signaled his exit. Kyrin, Trask, and Tane waited for the sound of hoof beats to die away before leaving the kitchen. Trask glared at the door where Goler had left as if to send fire after the man.
“I don’t like him coming out here,” he told Anne.
She shrugged and appeared less bothered than Kyrin would be in her position. “Neither do I, but there’s nothing we can do about it. Usually, Father is around, and that helps.”
“You won’t accept his invitation to a ride, will you?”
“Not unless I have to.”
Trask’s frown deepened. “That could be dangerous. I could throw him farther than I trust him.”
“If he pushes, I may have no choice but to go, or he’ll start to grow more suspicious.”
“Well, if you must, set a time and let me know. I can follow from cover. He’ll never know I’m there…unless, of course, I have to beat him senseless.”
Anne laughed. “I would hope it doesn’t come to that, but I’ll let you know.”
“Good,” Trask said with a nod. “Now, I better get back to camp and see that everything’s taken care of there. I want to be home if Goler shows up tonight.” His smile resurfaced when he turned to Kyrin. “I look forward to showing you out to camp.”
She thanked him, and Anne followed him to the door.
“Be careful,” she cautioned. “I don’t trust Goler around you either.”
William Altair eased down into the canvas folding chair at the desk in his officer’s tent and absently flipped through a stack of reports. It was a slow time at Fort Rivor, where many of the kingdom’s battalions were stationed. Aside from drills and training new recruits, his day mainly consisted of paperwork. It was not quite the adventurous life he thought he’d signed up for in his youth, but he was old enough now to appreciate the quiet moments, dull as they might be.
He’d just settled in for the long afternoon of sifting through endless figures when someone threw back the tent flap. A fellow captain stepped inside. William peered at him over the papers. Though the man saluted with his right fist to his chest, they had never been on particularly friendly terms. Bearing the name of Altair saw to that, but he rose and did the same.
“An urgent message from Valcré, Captain,” the man announced.
Whether it was the look in the other captain’s eyes or simply intuition, William’s heart stopped. It could be anything, but somehow, by instinct, Kyrin’s face appeared in his mind.
A courier stepped into the tent at the other captain’s bidding. The man looked to have been riding hard.
“Captain Altair, I bring unfortunate news from the emperor. Your daughter has denied the gods…”
In that heartbeat of frozen time, William leaned forward and braced himself against the desk. She’d done it. His brave daughter had stood for her faith. But at what price? The weight of these thoughts nearly drowned out the courier’s next words.
“…and attacked His Majesty.”
William’s eyes snapped back to the courier. “Attacked the emperor?”
“Yes, sir,” the courier confirmed.
William frowned deeply, but he became aware of the intense way in which the other captain watched him. He licked his lips and struggled to find his voice as he prepared for the worst. Already his heart had begun to rip in two, burning through his chest.
“And what…has been done with her?”
“She was scheduled for execution, but somehow disappeared three nights ago. We believe other traitors were involved.”
William barely caught himself from blowing out a great sigh. Careful to keep his face neutral, he asked, “Is the emperor taking strides to find her?”
“He is, sir. He has set a generous reward for her capture or information on her location. Every effort will be made to locate her.”
William gave a slow nod. “Thank you for bringing word.”
The courier nodded and left the tent. William’s eyes shifted to the other captain, who said, “You must be devastated. I can’t imagine the pain of one of your children bringing such dishonor to the family.”
Smugness tainted every word.
“This certainly will be a great blow to us,” William responded quietly. Though it mattered little to him, it would further sully the Altair name and be difficult for the rest of the family. The captain watched him intently, as if waiting for him to slip up, so he continued, “Thank you for your concern. Will you please send word to my sons that I wish to see them? I would like the news to come from me.”
“Of course,” the man responded coolly.
Saluting again, he backed out of the tent. When the flap had fallen into place, William sank into his chair and rubbed his hands over his face.
“Oh, Lord, thank You for sparing my daughter,” he breathed.
Not more than a few minutes later, footsteps approached the tent. Marcus ducked in first, Liam on his heels. Marcus’s brows were furrowed, while Liam wore a wide-eyed look of worry as they faced their father.
“You have bad news?” Marcus asked.
“Yes.” Though Kyrin lived, it was hard news to deliver because, unlike him, they would not understand it, and they would surely have questions he could not easily answer. “I’ve just received word from Valcré. Apparently, Kyrin has renounced Aertus and Vilai and…” He hesitated. This part was all wrong. “She attacked the emperor.”
“What?” Marcus’s eyes grew wide as he glanced at Liam. “It can’t be.”
“I’m afraid it is.”
Marcus shook his head. “But…how could she do that?”
William winced at the confusion in his son’s eyes. Let this provide an opening for the truth. “It’s what she believes.”
It’s what I believe, wanted to come out with it, but he couldn’t shock them further. There were better times and ways.
Marcus stood processing it for a long moment. He shook his head and murmured, “I can’t believe she would do that.” Then something seemed to occur to him. When his eyes returned to his father, pain had taken the place of confusion, but his expression was one of acceptance. “What’s been done with her?”
William glanced at Liam. He had yet to say a word, but he didn’t appear nearly as accepting as his brother. Fear made him look more like an uncertain young boy than the tall man he’d grown to be.
“She was scheduled for execu
tion,” he told them, “but managed to escape.”
He watched both their reactions. Liam didn’t hide his relief, letting go a pent-up breath, but Marcus hesitated. Certainly, there was relief, but his strong sense of duty was winning the struggle. This hurt William almost as much as Liam’s fear. He couldn’t be more proud of his son’s work and dedication, but why must it be so misplaced?
“I’m sure the emperor will do whatever he can to find her,” Marcus said, though his voice wasn’t as strong as usual.
Liam gave him a disbelieving look but said nothing. Marcus didn’t seem to notice, asking, “What about Kaden?”
William shook his head. “I didn’t hear anything about him.” But how he ached for his middle son. How was he coping with this? He’d never known closer siblings than Kyrin and Kaden. And how much longer until he too was found out? Surely, the emperor would have suspicions about him.
Marcus gave a slow nod. “Has word been sent to the General?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll go find out,” Marcus said in a calm and controlled voice.
William watched his son leave. He didn’t have to be there to know how his father-in-law would explode in fury and surely blame him for passing on the traitorous bloodline of his father.
Left alone, he and Liam just looked at each other. Oh, to know what his son was thinking. He appeared to be fighting for understanding, as William knew he would. He and Kyrin had always been close, too. Of everyone, it would probably be the hardest for him to accept.
“Do you really think she attacked the emperor?” Liam spoke at last.
The entire barracks might believe him to be slow, but Liam had plenty of smarts and knew his sister well enough to see the lie right in from of them. William glanced at the tent flap.
“No,” he murmured.
“Neither do I,” Liam said, bringing a hint of a smile to William’s lips. With hope in his eyes, he asked, “So…she’s safe?”
“As far as I know.”
Liam nodded with a glance over his shoulder. “Good.”
Kaden wouldn’t do it. He was done with Tarvin Hall. Done with the emperor. Done with everything. Now that Daican had nearly murdered his sister, he wanted nothing to do with anything the man stood for.
He’d refused to attend any of his classes since the day of Kyrin’s arrest. Hour after hour, he sat alone near the outer wall of Tarvin Hall. Sometimes he didn’t even come in for meals. Two guards stood nearby, always watching to make sure he didn’t do anything “foolish.” Different men rotated through this position, but Kaden never took much notice. Whatever happened now, he didn’t care.
Midday and lunch hour had already passed when he glanced up to see Sam crossing the courtyard. But even the sight of a friend couldn’t lift his dark mood. The talcrin paused to speak with the guards and then approached him, saying openly, “Kaden, it’s been five days. You’re just going to have to accept this and move on.”
Though said purely for the benefit of the guards, Kaden still didn’t like to hear it and scowled. Sam knelt in front of him.
“Listen to me,” he said in a much lower yet deathly serious tone. “You really do need to stop sulking around and get back to your studies.”
Kaden glared toward the Hall, but had enough sense to keep his voice down. “I won’t do anything that serves the emperor.”
“If you want to see Kyrin again, you’ll have to,” Sam said firmly. “Those guards over there are watching you for one reason—to see if you believe the same as your sister, and you’re well on your way to convincing them you do.”
“So why don’t they just arrest me?”
Sam shook his head. “Either you’re fortunate enough for them to think Kyrin’s beliefs were exclusively her own, or they’re biding their time. Kyrin’s near execution was a turning point in this country. Things are beginning to happen that I’ve feared for years. The emperor is focused on his plans, but don’t think he won’t eventually remember you exist. That’s why your situation is so dangerous. You’re running out of time. You must convince them, Kaden. Convince them you don’t need to be watched so closely. We can’t get you out of here unless the emperor calls off his men. Do you understand that?”
Still stewing over Goler’s visit to Marlton and his own inability to prevent such visits, Trask returned home to the castle in Landale and went straight for his father’s office. He acknowledged Morris with a friendly greeting and then stepped inside.
“Trask,” Grey said as he rose from his desk. “Goler was here to see you this morning. He brought word of a young woman who escaped execution in Valcré after refusing to worship the emperor’s gods.”
“I heard. I was at Marlton Hall when he showed up there looking for me. I hid in the kitchen while he talked with Anne.” He scowled at the memory. He should have just faced the man there.
“He mentioned stopping by again this evening. You should go before he returns.”
Trask shook his head. “I’m not going to hide from him. This is my home, and I have a thing or two to say to him anyway.”
Grey sighed and rubbed his red-rimmed eyes with his fingers. “I just think it would be better to avoid the confrontation. I don’t want to see you arrested.”
“He doesn’t have anything on me…yet. Nothing he can prove.”
Grey put his hands out, his voice strained. “But how long until he does?”
Trask released a sigh of his own. He did hate to cause his father such concern and didn’t like the way it weighed on his health, but he felt too strongly about his work to back out now. Before he could reassure him, Morris’s gray head poked into the room.
“Excuse me, my lords. One of the servants has just informed me that Captain Goler is here to see Lord Trask.”
“Guess that settles it,” Trask muttered. He cast a glance at his father’s tense face and strode out of the room. His father followed just behind. When they stepped into the grand parlor, Goler stood in the center of the room with his hands clasped behind his back and his jutting chin tipped up as if he were the baron. It was tempting to punch it back into place. Trask flexed his fist.
“Captain Goler, what a surprise,” he said in a tone dripping with sarcasm. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Goler snorted. “I stopped by earlier.”
“So I heard.”
“Where were you this morning?”
Trask folded his arms and leaned casually against an armchair near the giant stone fireplace. “Out.”
“Obviously, since you weren’t here when I called,” Goler replied tightly. “So again, I ask, where were you?”
Trask shrugged and studied the designs in the rug. “I have people to see, places to be.” A cold smile grew on his face as he lifted his gaze. “Running Landale takes work, after all.”
Goler’s eyes darkened, matching the walls. “You’re avoiding the question. I want to know specifics.”
“And I, Captain, have no obligation to report my activities to you.”
At this reminder of his low status compared to Trask’s, Goler’s face turned as red as an ember. Catching the way he gripped his sword scabbard with whitened knuckles, Trask had no doubt the man wished to run him through where he stood. He almost dared him to try.
His voice taut, Goler said, “You won’t tell me because you’re hiding something.”
“What, pray tell, might I be hiding?”
A little of Goler’s fury finally slipped, and he snapped, “An escaped prisoner, for one thing!”
Trask straightened. He was quite tired of this captain coming onto his father’s estate and accusing him, whether or not the accusations held any truth. Like he’d told his father, the man had no proof to base such accusations on. “What would make you think I’d hide an escaped prisoner?”
Goler stepped up to Trask, their faces only inches apart. Trask’s fist closed again. Any closer and he’d hit him.
“Because that’s just the sort of thing you would do.”
<
br /> “And you know me that well, do you?”
“Well enough.”
“You’re wrong,” Trask responded evenly. “I am not hiding any escaped prisoner.” Yet.
Goler scowled. “I don’t believe you.”
Trask leaned a little closer. “Suit yourself.”
The tension built between them, but Trask wouldn’t back down. Not here in his own castle. Fortunately, his father stepped in before things could escalate to the point of violence.
“Captain Goler, I’m quite certain my son isn’t hiding the girl. I would be aware of such a thing.”
Goler just glared past the baron at Trask with a look that clearly spelled murder. One of these days, they’d have it out, and it would probably end with one or both of them in the ground.
“Very well,” Goler conceded through clenched teeth. “I’ll expect you to report any information or suspicious activity you might come across.”
“Of course,” Baron Grey said, and Goler took his leave, stomping out of the room.
Silence settled, and Grey turned. “You shouldn’t provoke him.”
Trask frowned deeply. “He shouldn’t be coming in here making accusations. He’s a despicable individual.”
Baron Grey just shook his head and released a wearied breath, but his eyes sparked keenly. “You’re not hiding the girl, are you?”
“No,” Trask answered. “Not yet anyway. She’s in Marlton with Anne. She’s going to stay there a couple of days before coming out to camp.”
“Do you know about the reward on her head?”
“Tane told me.”
“Then you’ll understand why Goler is so determined to find her.”
Trask narrowed his eyes. “He’s after the reward.”
“Yes, and it will make him especially dangerous. You, Anne, and the girl need to be very careful. He’ll stop at nothing if he thinks you’re harboring her.”
Kyrin sat still as Anne moved around her, snipping off bits of hair to even it out.
“I’ll show you how to put it up in a hairnet,” Anne told her. “Then, unless they look closely, no one will be able to tell it’s so short.”
Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1) Page 29