Evenlight

by Krista Walsh

  Jayden bowed his head. “My apologies for interrupting, but we just received word from the palace. First Counsellor Basten has written to make sure we’re on our way.”

  “That’s surprising,” said Jasmine, her tone skeptical. “I wouldn’t have thought he’d be in such a rush to have us involved in court affairs again so soon.”

  “Be that as it may, we received the summons. He wants to make sure we report to him immediately when we arrive. I gather he’s not very happy about the delay.”

  “Then write the man back and explain the situation,” said Venn. “Moving the author man seems like it would be really stupid right now.”

  Corban’s lips twitched. “I would have to agree with the young lady. I would dare the wrath of the queen herself to ensure the wellbeing of my patients. You can confer and plan all you like, but Jeff will not be leaving this table until I give the say so.”

  Jeff opened his mouth to argue, but Corban held up a hand to silence him. “Once more I will conveniently leave the room and attempt to steal a cup of cider from the kitchens. Maybe Jin will allow me that much. Then I will drink it. But I guarantee that after Jeff’s recent experience with hogglewort, he will not allow himself to get worked up over anything again, lest he be forced to endure a second dose. Is that correct?”

  Jeff nodded with as much gusto as his dizzy head could manage. To be honest with himself, he wished Corban had convinced Jayden to walk away entirely. All he wanted to do now was sleep.

  He left, and Jayden stared after him until the door closed.

  Venn shook her head. “That is a strange man.”

  “I like him,” said Jeff.

  Jayden huffed. “You only say that because he’s giving you permission to be a layabout as long as you want.”

  “Tell me you wouldn’t love the excuse from time to time.” Jeff stretched his arms up above his head, and then made a quick grab for the sheet as it started to slide to the floor.

  Jayden leaned back against the table. “Not when I have the Andvellian queen breathing down my neck.”

  Jasmine chewed on her lip. “Things must be getting serious if they sent a follow-up summons. A personal note from Ansella is a big enough sign, but to have Basten on our asses, of all people. It can’t be good.”

  Jeff passed his hand over his eyes. “Trust me, I wish I could get off this table right now and head back out. I don’t like when people try to kill me. It makes me feel unwanted. I’d much rather get my ass down to the palace and figure out what I’ve done this time. I don’t suppose you’ve had any luck with the mystery woman?”

  Jayden glanced at Jasmine. “Brady and Herrin are still up there with her. I don’t know if there’s any point taking her with us when we leave. She attacked us within Herrin’s territory, so justice falls to him, and I don’t want to deal with the hassle of carting her across the country just to learn nothing.”

  “Who’s Herrin?” Jeff asked. He covered his mouth to stifle a burp that tasted of hogglewort, and then swallowed hard to cover a gag. “Where the hell are we, anyway?”

  Jayden pushed away from the table to wander the room, poking a finger into the same concoction Corban had spread over Jeff’s leg and jerking back.

  “Careful,” said Jeff. “That stuff burns like a son of a bitch.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” he grumbled, shaking out his hand.

  “Herrin Kariel is an old family friend,” Jasmine explained when Jayden continued to explore the other side of the room. “A distant cousin of our mother’s. He agreed to let us stay here for a night on our journey, but I don’t think he foresaw us coming with three riders on our heels and an injured companion. Still, he’s been polite enough about it.”

  Jeff’s eyes narrowed. “Sounds friendly.”

  Jasmine shrugged. “Just old and cantankerous. Kind of like the physician, only richer. I’d say with more power, but it doesn’t sound like the old man would agree with me on that.”

  “You’re really making me want to get up and meet him.”

  “His wife is nice.”

  “Oh good.”

  Between the drugs to make him bleed, the drugs to make him stop bleeding, the poison, and the supposed physical exercise the poison had induced, the effort of talking grew too much, and Jeff started to lose focus on Jayden’s movements around the room. His eyelids grew heavy and he allowed them to close, trying to keep his ears open to catch anything else Jayden had to say.

  The attempt lasted all of thirty seconds before he nodded off, but Jayden wasn’t finished with him, and punched him in the shoulder.

  “Ow.”

  He opened his eyes and this time Brady was next to Jayden, Venn and Jasmine gone from his side to stand near the door.

  “When did you get here?” Jeff asked Brady.

  “About fifteen minutes ago,” the counsellor said with a smile.

  Jeff groaned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, not feeling any more refreshed for the spontaneous nap.

  “Help me sit up,” he said. “I won’t stay awake if I’m lying down.”

  “Is that a good idea?” asked Venn. “Remember the hogglewort.”

  “I’m fine,” Jeff assured her, although he took extra care sitting up, crossing his legs to keep the sheet tucked around him. He really wished he had some pants.

  “Nice to see you awake,” said Brady.

  “We’ll have to share experiences sometime. I saw some interesting things in my delirium.”

  “I’ll take notes.”

  Jayden cleared his throat. “All fascinating stuff, but there’s a reason I woke you up. We need to talk before Corban comes back.”

  Jeff narrowed his eyes, not liking his friend’s tone. “What’s wrong?”

  “Herrin received a letter this afternoon,” said Brady, looking to Jasmine as the women came away from the door to hear what he had to say. He lowered his voice when they were all close. “I don’t think he wanted me to know about it, but keeping his reactions to himself is not one of his strengths.”

  “You know him then?”

  “We’ve met once or twice,” Brady replied, his words flat.

  Jeff chose not to press the subject. “So what about this letter?”

  Brady chewed on his cheek. “I recognized the seal. It also came from Basten, and I don’t think it contained anything especially complimentary of you.”

  “Of course not,” said Jeff. “The man never liked me. What did it say?”

  “Obviously I didn’t read the actual letter, but Herrin’s face turned redder than usual, and he gave me this look, like I’d just insulted his favourite horse. He asked me how long I’d known you, and what sort of man you were.”

  Jeff snorted. “I hope you were kinder than Basten.”

  “I was honest, and fortunately that works in your favour. But I don’t know how much he believed me. He went all quiet and changed the subject.”

  The rest of them exchanged glances.

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” said Jasmine.

  “It seems a little odd,” Jeff agreed.

  Venn gave Jeff’s shoulder a gentle nudge with her own. “Aren’t you used to people not liking you?”

  “Sure, but usually they meet me first.”

  Jayden chuckled, and Jeff turned his attention back to Brady. “So what do you think it means? Last time we saw Basten, he was thanking us for saving the country. What could have changed that makes him write something to set your friend against me?”

  Brady raised a shoulder. “I haven’t heard anything about you from the capital. Wherever he’s getting his information, whatever that information is, it’s not coming through any of my channels.”

  Jeff thought of his last time in Andvell, of the conspiracy plot to overthrow the queen, and how the people involved had returned to Feldall’s Keep to “help” with the search for Raul. First Counsellor Basten had been Jeff’s number one suspect until it turned out to be the man’s cousin, Michael Dorning.

  “Maybe
our first deduction wasn’t as far off as Dorning wanted us to believe?” he suggested. “Is it possible the conspiracy is still going on with Basten leading it?”

  Jayden scratched the stubble on his jaw. “I doubt it. Dorning said it himself. Basten is so far up the queen’s ass that to get rid of her would mean his own ruin. But we won’t know anything until we get there and find out for ourselves.”

  “Which will be sooner than planned,” a voice croaked from the doorway.

  Jasmine started and turned around. Venn took a step closer to Jeff, and he pulled the sheet tighter around his waist and stared in surprise at the stranger in the doorway.

  Dressed in a rich purple tunic and black trousers, with a gold chain at his throat and several bejewelled rings on his fingers, a man with striking white hair and a pinched expression stepped into the room.

  “Herrin?” said Jayden, shuffling sideways to get between him and Jeff. “What’s going on?”

  “I just took leave of my scholar and we’ve agreed that you can no longer stay in my home. Jayden, you’re like a second son to me and I’m proud to have you as a member of my family, but you’ve always been headstrong and impulsive. I don’t think less of you for mixing with the company you do,” he paused to glance from Brady to Jeff before he continued, “but I’ll not have followers of Raul under my roof.”

  He stopped to meet Jeff’s eye. “You, sir, will have to leave.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jeff balked at the man’s words. The accusation. A follower of Raul? What kind of plant is he smoking?

  The way Jayden glanced at him, Jeff wondered if he’d said those last words aloud in his shock, but he didn’t care much if he had. The statement was ridiculous.

  “My friend is unable to walk,” said Jayden. “Where do you suggest he go?”

  Herrin crossed his arms. “That is not my concern, as long as it’s not here.”

  Corban interrupted the standoff by returning to the room, a cream tart in the palm of his hand. He didn’t appear startled by the hostility in his healing ward as he set the tart down on the table and wiped his hands together to clear the crumbs.

  Jeff noticed with amusement—although whether that amusement was sincere or a lingering effect of the fever, he couldn’t tell—that everyone in the room seemed content to wait until the physician was finished to further the conversation.

  The silence lasted another few seconds before Corban broke it himself. “I’m sorry, my Lord, but I’m afraid your wish will not be granted today. Mr Powell is to remain under my supervision.”

  “Corban, I respect your opinions, but this is my Keep, not yours,” said Herrin, not sounding like he respected anyone very much. “I am master and ruler, and you are here to serve me.”

  Jeff hadn’t known the man for ten minutes and already he had to agree with Brady’s between-the-lines opinion of him. Not an easy one to like.

  “I beg to differ, my Lord,” said Corban.

  The physician, on the other hand, continued to rise in Jeff’s esteem.

  “In here I am king, and the healing ward is my kingdom. I will not have my reputation as physician marred because one of my patients left too early and died a babbling wretch on the road.”

  Jeff held onto that mental picture of himself.

  “Herrin,” said Jasmine, in a most diplomatic tone, “why don’t we postpone this conversation until the morning. I would be very interested to learn what slander you’ve heard about my friend, and, if possible, convince you it’s not true. But I don’t think any of us are in a temper to discuss it at the moment.”

  Herrin’s sour expression shifted from her to Jayden, to Jeff, to Corban, and back to Jayden. He threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine. Since members of my own House oppose me, we’ll leave it be until tomorrow, but I can’t guarantee anything further than that. I’m displeased with you, Corban.”

  The physician picked up the cream tart and handed it to his lord. “My healing opinion is for you to eat this with a cup of wine. You’ll feel better for it. Now, my Lord, my patient needs rest.”

  The harrumph Herrin released as he strode from the room relayed so many layers of messages that Jeff had difficulty keeping his composure until the door closed.

  Brady released a wide grin, and Jayden frowned at the door.

  “I believe he’s getting grumpier with old age,” he said. “I didn’t think it was possible.”

  Corban nodded. “You know his youngest daughter died in Cordelay last year. He hasn’t been the same since.”

  Jayden groaned, and the anger around his eyes melted into a sympathy Jeff shared. Cordelay had been the target of Raul’s wrath. He’d torn the city apart piece by piece, and then summoned a wave from the ocean to wash out the rest. Jeff hadn’t seen the damage in person. He’d experienced worse than that—he’d written the descriptions himself, blackmailed into casting Raul as the main character to keep an imprisoned Cassie safe. He hadn’t taken the scene far before his conscience stopped him, but it had been enough to imagine the extent of the damage. If Herrin thought Jeff was in any way allied with what happened, his animosity was understandable.

  Jeff wanted to know what had given the lord the idea.

  “Now,” said Corban, stretching his hand out towards the door. “I believe I gave an order. I suggest you obey before I pass sentence.”

  Jeff’s friends followed the instructions with much less reluctance than Herrin, and soon Jeff was alone in the room. With a sigh of relief, he lay back and closed his eyes.

  But of course sleep wouldn’t come. Sleep never came when it was most wanted.

  Images floated through his mind of Raul’s work, of the mutated pets, of the horrors he had created. He thought about how Raul was always so smooth and polite, even to his enemies. It was easy to see how he had gained a following. And how he had kept the twins’ parents, William and Loreen Feldall, duped for so long about his true nature.

  Such a twisted fucker, and now word was going around that Jeff had been in league with him? The suggestion would be enough to make him laugh if it wasn’t so scary. He knew how people reacted to Raul’s followers these days. If the wrong people believed it…. He wondered if that was why the robed people wanted him dead.

  With a glance at the door and a silent prayer that it was locked, Jeff knew he had to rely on his friends to get him out of this mess. His words would only take him so far and he doubted they’d be given much credence.

  After what felt like an age of these looping thoughts, he forced his brain to be quiet. If he had to pack up and head back out in the cold tomorrow, best it happen after a good night’s sleep.

  ***

  Of course “good” was a relative term, and “night” became a figure of speech. By the time the summons came the next day for Jeff to appear before Lord Kariel, Jeff had tossed and turned most of the short night with horrible dreams and only fallen asleep as the first hint of sun came in through the window.

  He required help from a servant to get dressed, and Brady was waiting outside the door to help him up the ten million stairs to get to the lord’s rooms.

  “The others are already upstairs. You’re left with me, I’m afraid,” said Brady, reaching out to take Jeff’s arm.

  “I appreciate the help. Especially from someone who won’t mock me mercilessly when I’m out of breath after three steps. How are you feeling, anyway? I feel like the last few days have all been about me.”

  He grinned to make a joke out of his complaint, and Brady gave him the benefit of responding in kind.

  “The nightmares haven’t been so bad since we left the Keep. I feel…” he paused, brow creased as he tried to find the words, “a sense of satisfaction that we’re moving, listening to his warning. The headaches haven’t stopped, but Corban gave me an herbal remedy that seems to help.”

  Jeff grimaced. “Watch out for his remedies. The effects can be nasty. Still, I’m glad it’s working.” Anything else he wanted to say faded from his mind as he looked up
the seemingly endless staircase and groaned. “Kariel doesn’t want to make this easy for me, does he?”

  “He doesn’t like making things easy for anyone,” Brady replied. “Everything is a test of character.”

  Jeff cast him a sidelong glance. “So what does he have against you? I doubt you’d fail any kind of test.”

  Brady chuckled. “Maybe not, but I don’t always pass them in the most conventional ways either. He wanted to teach me a lesson for my—what he saw as—arrogance as a child. In my memory, I was simply using knowledge instead of my fists to introduce his son to diplomacy. He told me brains can only get a ruler so far, but without skill with a sword, he wouldn’t last long.”

  “He made you fight?”

  The image of Brady with a blade amazed him. He’d never seen the scholar-turned-counsellor armed in the whole time he’d known him.

  “It was worse than when Corey challenged you to the bout your first day here,” said Brady.

  “I doubt that,” Jeff grumbled, remembering the scene very clearly. That fight had been over in fifteen seconds, his ego ending up just as bruised as the rest of him.

  Brady smiled, but the expression didn’t hold its usual warmth. “Corey was a bastard at times, but he was just trying to show his authority to you. Patrick Kariel wanted to crush me, and Herrin supported the desire. Fortunately, we were young enough that wooden swords would make enough of a point. He knocked the weapon out of my hands with the first strike and proceeded to beat me bloody. William Feldall had to step in to make sure I wasn’t killed.”

  Jeff cringed. Kids could be assholes. “And yet you say you won. How do you figure?”

  The counsellor’s smile brightened. “In my own way, I think I did. Like the precocious child I now see that I was, I stood up from the dust, brushed off my sleeves, wiped the blood from my nose, and proceeded to recite the victory speech of King Volantis the tenth, when he spoke of the responsibility of a monarch to weigh words against strength, and to rely on the former as far as it would take him. Herrin wasn’t too impressed.”