Artesans of Albia

by Cas Peace

  As if to leave her disquiet behind, she began to walk slowly around the battlements. Looking out over the Citadel Plains, she could see the great raw scars in the earth where the pyres of Pharikian’s dead had burned. Soon, with the advent of warmer weather, they would become softened with grasses and starred with wild flowers, a fitting tribute to those who had given their lives for their realm. Moving on, she gazed down on the spot where she had fought and triumphed over Rykan, absently massaging the bones of her left wrist as she remembered the day. She could also see the small hill where Bull, Cal, Taran, and Rienne had watched the combat, and from where Taran and Cal had been abducted by Sonten’s men.

  She mused on that, her golden eyes unseeing. Just what was Sonten’s role in all this? She remembered seeing him at Rykan’s palace, noting that he had taken no obvious pleasure or part in the Duke’s brutal abuse. But neither had he intervened, and she wondered now, in the light of what they knew about the Staff and Sonten’s frantic efforts to retrieve it, whether he had been involved in the suspected plot to control or eliminate powerful Artesans. If so, where had his and Jaskin’s ill-fated experiments with the weapon fitted in? Had he been connected to whoever had made the Staff, or had he merely seen an opportunity to further his own self-serving greed? She would probably never know. Sonten hadn’t been gifted with Artesan powers, and as both he and his ambitious nephew were dead, along with the commander he had hoped to use in Jaskin’s place, speculation was futile.

  Walking on, she made out the other small hill to the north, crowned with its ancient wreath of standing stones—the site of Vanyr’s funeral pyre. Her heart ached at his memory. She recollected their brief and awkward conversation on this very roof when she had tried to apologize for the beating he had received at the pirates’ hands. She also remembered his reluctant concern for her when the sight of Rykan on the battlefield had nearly crippled her with pain. She suddenly wondered what he would have made of the Hierarch’s offer and how he might have advised her. Raising tear-filled eyes to the cloudy sky, she sent a message of love to his memory on the wind. There was no reply.

  Completing her circular tour of the battlements, she suddenly came face to face with Robin. Startled by his silent appearance, she halted. He stood unmoving and unspeaking, just watching her with no expression on his face. He had brought her cloak with him, and she suddenly realized she was shivering.

  + + + + +

  Her startlement told Robin how preoccupied she was. Never before had he been able to come near her without her sensing him, and he experienced a pang of anxiety. Should he have given her more time? But she smiled gently at him and let him place her warm cloak about her shoulders. Although he badly wanted to, he didn’t take her into his arms. Instead, he stood at her side, asking nothing, offering his presence for comfort. She looked over the Plains in silence. Eventually, he had to speak.

  “Sullyan.” He was still not entirely at ease with her given name, so in his uncertainty he fell back on the familiar. “I want you to know that should you decide to stay here, should you not want to risk using the Staff, I’ll understand.”

  His voice was unsteady and rough, but he got the words out. He surprised himself by doing so. This was one of the hardest things he had ever done.

  She turned to look at him, her pupils dilating.

  “Will you, Robin?”

  Her mind brushed his, but her delicate probe was too much for him and he shut her out, immediately revealing what he was trying to hide.

  “Ah.” She looked away again. “I thought not.”

  The silence continued. He was ashamed that she had seen through him so easily, but it was his own fault. They were just too close and his control was imperfect where his feelings for her were concerned. After a moment, he tried again.

  “Alright. Maybe ‘understand’ was the wrong word.” His own eyes filled with tears and he cursed his lack of self-control. “What I meant was I would never ask you to do something just because it was what I wanted.” He swallowed, fumbling with his sentiments. “My love, you know how I feel about you. I would do anything for you—anything! If saving you from certain agony and the risk of death means giving you up, then I’ll do it. I won’t pretend it’ll be easy and I know it won’t make me happy, but I’ll do it.”

  He heard her sigh and saw a tear slide down her cheek. “But what would be the point?” Her whisper was so soft he hardly heard it. “For I could never be happy if I gave you up, no matter what Timar offered me. I cannot deny that I have found more of myself here than I could ever have imagined, but it would all mean less than nothing without you. We belong together, Robin, I know that now. I will not relinquish that without a fight, whatever the risk.”

  Joy flared in his heart and he turned to stare at her. Before the emotion of the moment overwhelmed them both, she stepped back, holding up the hand that bore his ring.

  “All is not yet settled,” she warned. “There is something I must tell you before you commit to me too deeply.”

  His voice was deep and husky. “Oh, you’re far too late.”

  Looking away from the naked emotion in his eyes, she continued resolutely. “Nevertheless, this is not a thing we have discussed before. The need has not arisen. Yet if we are to take each other for life, I must tell you—”

  “You believe you are unable to bear children.” Seeing her startled expression, he said, “Pharikian and Deshan made sure I was aware of the possibility when they helped you purge yourself after Rykan’s death. And I have to admit, when I first knew exactly what that bastard had done to you, the thought came into my mind.

  “But it doesn’t matter!” He took her by the shoulders, gazing earnestly into her eyes. “Your love and commitment are all I’ve ever wanted. Just to be with you and know that you’re mine is enough for me. What’s in the future is in the future. We’ll face it together. And if it has to be just the two of us for the rest of our lives, then so be it. I’ve never wished for anything more.”

  She took a gulp of breath and he feared she would dissolve into tears. Instead, she stepped into his embrace and nestled her head on his chest. He felt the rapid thud of her pulse and the warm clasp of her arms around him. He thought his heart would burst.

  “Will you come with me and tell the others, love?” he murmured. “Bull and Rienne are so very worried. And poor Taran—I just don’t know what we’re going to do with him. He’s so helplessly in love with you, you know.”

  She raised her head and smiled, dashing tears from her eyes. “Yes, I had noticed. He is very obvious with it. We will have to pay some attention to finding him a partner. He has so much to give, so much passion in his soul, and I would hate to see it wasted. Very well, we will go and find the others and then tell Pharikian our decision. But I warn you, if I am going to attempt this then I need some time to prepare and think. It is not something to be undertaken lightly. And someone has to inform General Blaine. I think, under the circumstances, it had better come from you. You and the others should return to Albia for a while anyway. You do not have the advantage of my hybrid blood. Poor Cal must be desperate to see Rienne, and I know she has been missing him. You can come back and help me prepare once you have spoken to the General. But I am still very afraid, Robin, and success is by no means guaranteed. This may well prove to be beyond my powers.”

  “Don’t worry, love,” soothed Robin. “We’ll all help and support you, you know that. Together, we can cope with anything. I just know you’re going to succeed.”

  Putting his arm around her, he guided her toward the Tower doors.

  + + + + +

  It was a chilly, rainy, windswept day when Robin, Bull, Taran, and Rienne prepared to leave Andaryon for the Manor. Rienne was torn, for eager as she was to see Cal and hold him in her arms, she couldn’t help but feel she was deserting her friend again just when she was needed. Sullyan understood her turmoil and took the healer aside to reassure her. They talked at length and, eventually, Rienne was pacified. But as they gathered on
the Citadel Plains just outside the south gate, she still felt more than a little disloyal.

  Bull was also feeling ambiguous about the trip. He had no real need to return to Albia as his duties would only resume if and when the Major returned. But she was concerned about his heart, so Bull didn’t voice his reluctance. After the last time, he didn’t intend to disobey her orders ever again. She already had enough to think about, and only Robin could help her now. So he made no protest, merely accepted her wishes, and saw the grateful thanks in her eyes.

  Taran was uneasy for quite a different reason, and this time his feelings had nothing to do with Sullyan. He was unsure of the reception he would find at the Manor. After all, good swordsmen had lost their lives in lifting Sonten’s siege of Hyecombe, and blame for their deaths could be laid literally and squarely at Taran’s door. He didn’t speak of his concern, but Robin had a flash of intuition, realizing what was troubling the older man.

  “No one blames you, Taran,” he assured the Adept. “All of our company were impressed with you and Cal when you helped us repel the invasion, and that hasn’t changed. And Blaine has said nothing, as far as I know. So put it out of your mind, man. You’re one of us now. Just think how relieved Cal will be to have you and Rienne back. You all deserve a rest. We’ll think about the future later.”

  Surprised and grateful for this reassurance, Taran resolved to heed Robin’s words. He certainly didn’t want to cause any more problems.

  Gathering outside the Citadel gates, they once more bade farewell to Sullyan. The circumstances were not so different from the last time and they were all reminded of it, but no one let their emotions overspill. The Major stood back while Robin opened the tunnel, and her pride in his growing skills and strength filtered through to the handsome young man.

  The little company mounted their horses and rode through the Veils. Looking back, they could see her standing by the gate, sentries of the Velletian Guard behind her, her left hand raised in farewell. Then Robin allowed the structure to fade and they found themselves back in Albia.

  Their reception at the Manor was more intense than any of them could have foreseen. Bull had always been popular—although more so since he had ceased to be an active Sergeant-Major—and the men of Sullyan’s command were gratifyingly enthusiastic in their welcome. When Taran found himself included in the raucous cheering and hearty back-slapping, he was left in no doubt as to their wholehearted inclusion of him into their ranks. Rienne was also greeted with pleasure, as her work in the infirmary had benefited most of the men in one way or another.

  The most enthusiastic greeting of the day came from the young kitchen boy, Tad. He had been waiting for days for Robin’s return, and when the Captain finally swung down from Torka’s back in the stableyard, the boy barely restrained himself from flying into Robin’s arms. Whooping with delight, he skidded to a halt in front of Robin and, instead of the childish hug he really wanted to give, he snapped a very passable salute which he had obviously been practicing. Robin returned his homage gravely, causing Tad’s young face to flush crimson, and then, to the boy’s everlasting delight, scooped him up and set him on Torka’s high back, giving the reins into the boy’s proud hands.

  “Walk him around a bit, lad,” said Robin with a grin. “Just don’t let him eat too much grass.”

  “I won’t, sir! I’ll take care of him!” breathed Tad, pure, undying hero-worship in his shining eyes as he gently nudged Torka into a walk.

  “Will he be alright on that huge stallion?” asked Rienne as they walked away.

  Grinning impishly, Robin cast the rapt lad a glance over his shoulder. “He’ll be fine, Rienne. Torka’s very gentle with youngsters.”

  They went up to the manor-house, passing the barracks and acknowledging the waves, cat-calls, and cheers from the men of the other companies. Seeing them, Baily came over, slapped Robin on the back, and grinned up at Bull. “Come back to do some work at last, have you, old soldier?”

  Bull scowled at him. “I’ll give you ‘old soldier,’ you insolent young pup. I could still teach you a thing or two, and don’t you forget it!”

  There was no sign of Parren as they made their way up the stairs and through the maze of corridors and halls toward the private quarters. Robin knew that Cal was no longer in the infirmary, and he silently communed with Bull and Taran as they neared their rooms. Tactfully, they left Rienne outside the door of her apartment to be reunited with Cal in private. Then they made for Bull’s rooms, feeling in need of some brandy.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Later that morning, Robin had an interview with General Blaine. Despite the gravity of the subject, it was by far the most comfortable meeting he had ever had with the man, and their discussions were unmarred by resentment. Knowing enough about what could happen when Sullyan used the Staff, Robin realized she might need Blaine’s metaphysical help with the procedure, but he also wanted the General to know their suspicions concerning the Staff’s creation and the hypothetical reason behind Rykan’s challenge to Andaryon’s throne. Blaine listened gravely while Robin repeated the discussion they had had with Pharikian. He was obviously appalled at the thought of such a high-level plot against Artesans, but immediately grasped the reasoning behind their suspicions.

  “It is true that there was considerable opposition at court to Sullyan’s inclusion in our ranks,” he mused once Robin had fallen silent. He glanced up, briefly nodding his thanks as his aide, Hyram, placed cups of fellan on the table. “At each promotion I had to fight for permission to advance her. But it was never very clear whether the opposition was because of her gender or her other talents. She always had Elias’s approval, of course, or he would never have accepted her Oath, let alone appointed her King’s Envoy. But it is undeniable that there are nobles at court who are … less than happy, shall we say, about her rank and position.”

  He eyed Robin frankly. “You do realize that this is the reason I’ve always been so hard on her? The slightest slip or hint of misconduct and those nobles would have petitioned the King for her removal. Despite his support, he couldn’t have ignored them. It could all have gotten very awkward.”

  Robin set down his cup. “I didn’t really, sir, no, although I suppose I should have. I did know that she and Artesans in general, of course, had powerful enemies at court. She told me so when I first came here, but I never really considered how it might affect your relationship with her.”

  Blaine looked down at his hands. “We deliberately never made an issue of it.”

  Robin sighed. “Then perhaps the misunderstanding was not entirely my fault. Still, I behaved very badly, sir. I was too deeply involved to see things objectively, and I admit I have a tendency to be judgmental. I always resented her defense of your actions, and I could never understand why she didn’t resent your attitude. I was too simplistic, sir. All I could see was that although she’d saved your life some years ago, you seemed to be totally ungrateful. I know now that I had no business passing judgment. Please accept my heartfelt apologies for any lack of respect I may have shown you.”

  Blaine appraised the young captain, a small smile playing about his habitually stern mouth. “Well, well, you seem to have grown up at last. I’ll admit, I had my doubts when the Major first asked permission to bring you here, and I’ve regretted giving her that permission a good few times over the past two and a half years, as I’m sure you know! But you’ve finally justified her faith in you and all the effort she put into your training. I will have no reservations about your confirmation as a Master Artesan, or in approving your promotion, when it becomes appropriate.”

  Robin was stunned by Blaine’s open reversal of a long-held opinion. “Thank you, sir,” he said, trying not to stammer.

  His thanks were waved away. “I will keep in mind what you’ve told me about a possible alliance between this Lord Rykan and some high-powered noble,” the General continued, “although I can’t imagine any of the narrow-minded bigots in Elias’s court allying themselves w
ith an outlander. None of them have the Artesan gift, so it’s highly unlikely that your suspected renegade is among their number. However, I will send a runner to First Minister Levant asking him to make some discreet enquiries. I will not burden the King with this unless we have firm evidence.

  “In the meantime, Captain, we should concentrate on getting Sullyan back where she belongs. You can tell her she will have my full support in whatever capacity she needs it. I value her, you know—maybe more than either of you know—and I’ve missed her more than I care to admit. But you can keep that last bit to yourself, Captain, and that’s an order!”

  Robin grinned broadly. “Yes, sir!”

  On returning to Bull’s rooms, he found all his friends gathered there. Cal was looking much more his usual self now that Rienne was back, and Robin greeted him warmly. He and the others had been discussing the immediate future, and as soon as Robin finished his greeting, Rienne demanded to know what Blaine’s reaction was. After accepting a glass of firewater from Bull, Robin relayed the General’s comments.

  “When are you going back?” Cal asked.

  “Tonight. I’ll bathe and change and collect a few things, and then I’ll be off. I don’t want to leave her too long.”

  “You know you can count on us for help and support, don’t you?” said Rienne. “If I can help Brynne at all before she decides to attempt this, you only have to come fetch me.”

  Robin gave her a warm smile. “Thanks, Rienne. We both appreciate it. I can’t say how long it’ll be before she’s ready, but you can be sure I’ll keep you informed. Now I’d better go change and get back to my horse before Tad rides him into the ground!”

  Robin needn’t have worried. When he finally reached the horse lines, he found his mount’s coat gleaming, curried to within an inch of its life. The leather harness had been cleaned and oiled, and the bit and buckles polished. Even Torka’s hooves had been picked out and rubbed with oil so they shone. Tad was sitting on the railing next to the tethered chestnut, talking quietly to the horse and feeding him pieces of apple, which the big beast took with gentle lips.