Voice of the demon, p.28
Voice Of The Demon, page 28
part #2 of Elita Series
Robert fell silent as Rosalind stared at the map. Eventually she looked up, turning her gaze on each man in turn. In the end, her eyes landed once more on Robert. ‘You said, we? Does this mean you intend to go with us?’
‘Of course.’
Rosalind shook her head. ‘I cannot allow it.’ Feeling the eyes of everyone on her, Rosalind coloured and looked to Jennifer for help. There was none forthcoming. This was one battle she would have to fight on her own. ‘You must stay here, Robert. Should you be approached to aid the search for me, it would look most suspicious if you were not to be found – especially if so many of your soldiers were gone, too.’
Robert shook his head, a frown already forming. ‘My absence won’t prove anything. Believe me, it’s important that I go with you. I can ensure your safety.’
‘It is not only my safety that’s at stake here, but also that of Lusara. You’re too valuable. If it should be discovered that you’re aiding me across the border, then Lusara will lose everything. I forbid you to come with us, with whatever authority I may have.’ Rosalind paused. She hadn’t realized she felt so strongly about this until now. ‘If you overrule me, then I must ask that you let us go on our own without your help or your men.’
Robert shook his head slowly and murmured, ‘By the gods, not again.’
There was a movement from the other side of the room as Jennifer came to her feet. She looked at none of them and quietly walked out into the secret room. Robert continued as though he hadn’t noticed. ‘Very well, my Queen. As you wish. I’ll stay here. Now I suggest we all get moving. We have a great deal to organize in a very short time.’
With that, the meeting broke up. Robert turned and left the study closing the door none-too-quietly behind him.
*
Patric heard the feet on the stairs, but before he could even get up from his chair, the door to his room burst open and Robert stood there, green eyes blazing. Patric leaped up, the book still open in his hands. ‘What’s wrong?’
Robert took a deep breath and closed the door quietly and precisely behind him. ‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’ He frowned and sank on to the end of the bed. It appeared the chairs by the window were more than he could deal with.
‘She’s here, isn’t she?’
‘Who?’
‘Jenn.’
Robert folded his arms. ‘Yes, she’s here.’
‘And?’
‘And what?’
‘Don’t be obtuse, Robert. You know what I’m talking about.’ Patric stood in front of him, the book under his arm. ‘Have you talked to her? Have you tried to get her to revoke her vow to Wilf?’
‘That would be a little rich, coming from me. If nothing else, she did do it to protect my brother.’
‘Stop avoiding the question. Did you talk to her about the . . .’
‘Patric,’ Robert stood abruptly, his tone changing completely, ‘I know you were planning to leave soon.’
Patric turned away and put the book on the little oak table. ‘Trying to get rid of me early, are you?’
‘Not exactly, no.’ There was a hint of a smile on his face. ‘I know you’ve not spent too much time out of the caves and your combat abilities have never been tested – but I wonder if you might consider doing me a small favour.’
‘Oh? What?’
‘It wouldn’t take much more than a week – and you’d get an opportunity to put all that riding practice to good use. Then there’d also be a chance to flex the odd Mask here and there – in the most exalted company.’
‘What are you trying to convince me of, Robert? Don’t play games with me – I’ve known you too long. What do you want me to do?’
Robert paused and pursed his lips. With an entirely innocent expression, he put his hands on his hips and said, ‘How would you like to join the Guilde?’
*
The garden was definitely past its best now. Working from the south wall, the gardeners had removed most of the autumn debris, leaving stark dirt clods where there had once been bright flowers. Only the fruit trees in the corners and the whitethorn hedge showed any green.
Margaret wandered along the path, enjoying what little sunshine there was and trying not to think about the disturbing things Robert had told her. His appearance by the gate did nothing to still her thoughts.
‘Enjoying the peace, Mother?’
She studied him for a moment. Then she put her hand in the crook of his elbow and they walked on together. ‘To the eye, this garden looks to be doing nothing, but if you could peer beneath the surface you’d see all kinds of activity among the worms and insects. Is there really such a thing as peace?’
‘I’m not the best person to answer that question.’
Margaret glanced aside at him. ‘They will be safe, won’t they? When they leave here?’
‘As safe as they can be. It all depends on how much Selar still thinks I’m no threat. I can only hope that my constant presence at Dunlorn has assured him that I’m involved in nothing. He won’t believe for a moment that I’d go out of my way to help Rosalind.’
‘He believes you won’t break your oath.’
‘Yes.’
Margaret frowned. ‘Forgive me, Robert, but why won’t you take a stand against him? You could so easily.’
He took a long time to answer. His eyes grew hard and a knot appeared at the side of his jaw. ‘Why doesn’t anybody believe me?’
‘Believe what?’
‘It’s not a question of why I won’t – I simply can’t break my oath. It wouldn’t do any good if I did. I could never muster a force big enough to overthrow Selar and I absolutely refuse to take the crown myself. I know some people hate me for making that oath in the first place, David Maclean for one – not to mention Finnlay.’
‘But he understood . . .’
‘No, he just went along with it. He’s never forgiven me.’
They came to the stone bench in the shade of twin lemon trees and Margaret sat down. Robert stood before her, in profile, his expression troubled. Why was it that even after all they’d been through there was obviously still so much Robert wouldn’t talk to her about? So much going on beneath the surface that she could only guess at.
‘You miss him, don’t you?’ Margaret murmured softly. Robert didn’t even blink, so Margaret continued, ‘You miss being at court with Selar, having the influence and the power to do what you could. In a way, though, sometimes I think you miss his friendship even more. I think that’s why you never talk about him – perhaps never even think about him. Did you think he would go after you when you left court?’
Robert gave a half-laugh and looked down at his boots. ‘You make me sound like a monster, Mother. Why would I expect a King to go running after me?’
Margaret shrugged. ‘You were the only one who ever had a good influence on him.’
‘Is that what everyone thinks?’
‘History has borne it out, my dear.’
He looked away and shook his head slightly. ‘Then history has it wrong. We were friends, that’s all. I never had any influence on him. If I had, then I would have been able to . . .’ Robert paused and sat down beside Margaret. He put his elbows on his knees and laced his hands together.
‘The truth is, Mother, I didn’t want to leave. I just had to. I couldn’t stay any longer. I can’t explain why.’
Margaret reached across and took his hand. ‘I’m not asking you to justify your actions to me. I just want to be sure you understand yourself. It is, after all, your conscience that you have to live with, not mine.’
Robert glanced up with hooded eyes. ‘Then you think I did wrong to leave?’
‘You loved Selar, gave him every scrap of loyalty the Douglas House is famous for. It doesn’t matter a damn what I think, Robert. What matters is that you believe the truth. You did all you could.’
‘Did I?’ For a moment there was a cold glint in his eyes, and then it was gone. He lifted her hand and pressed it to his lips. ‘For what it’s worth, Mother, I think Finnlay was right. But whatever you do, don’t ever tell him.’
*
Jenn stood by the open window and watched the sun set over the dusky moor. The smell of sweet heather rested on the breeze, along with the sound of bleating sheep. By the river below, trees rustled in the wind, dropping leaves in a sprinkle of colour, gold and brown. The year was coming to an end and soon winter would be upon them.
With only a deep orange glow in the sky, Jenn pulled the study window closed. It was time. There was a movement behind her, but it wasn’t Robert. Nor was it the Queen. She’d already said goodbye.
Margaret approached quietly, immediately taking her hands. ‘I wanted to thank you, before you left. Robert told me what you did to help Finnlay.’
Jenn frowned. ‘He told you?’
‘Why? What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’ Jenn murmured, unable to tear her gaze away from this woman. The deep brown eyes held a steadiness that was wholly compelling, a faith in something or somebody that had not been shaken, no matter the recent revelations. ‘Then you know everything.’
‘My conscience is at war, if that’s what you mean,’ Margaret smiled gently.
Jenn’s gaze dropped. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’
Jenn just shook her head, unable to answer.
‘You take care on your journey home,’ Margaret continued. ‘Micah and your men will be waiting at the end of the tunnel for you. Perhaps we’ll meet again soon.’
Jenn wanted to move, told her feet to take some steps, but they refused. Instead, she just wanted to stay here in the warmth of this woman’s smile, in the safety of her calm assurance. As though she knew, Margaret smiled again and held out her arms. Jenn embraced her, unwilling to let go. Then she was moving through the door and down the steep cold steps to the tunnel.
Alone now, she stopped and waited for her eyes to adjust. The gloom was almost unbearable. It pressed down upon her, suffocating. Not caring one way or the other, Jenn raised her hand and brought a light into being. It was weak and tiny, but it was enough. Picking her way carefully, she began the long walk, her thoughts, like the tunnel, contained close and narrow.
*
‘Above all, Micah, don’t go out of your way to avoid the patrols. They won’t know who you are, why you’re travelling. Just don’t let on that you’ve come from Dunlorn.’
Micah nodded and finished adjusting the girth strap on Jenn’s horse. The others were ready, waiting for Jenn to emerge from the tunnel. Patric hovered by the dark opening, ready to help Robert close the entrance once they’d left. He was unusually silent, watchful even.
With deft hands, Micah finished with Jenn’s horse and turned to mount his own. Like a sentinel in the night, Robert stood beside him, his black cloak falling to the ground, his long hair like a hood to his shoulders. He just wanted this to be over.
‘One final thing, Micah,’ Robert murmured. ‘Take good care of her. You’re the only one I can trust. She won’t defy you. If I sent anyone else she’d walk all over them. But you keep to your task. Get her home safely.’
Micah glanced up, but Robert’s face was in darkness, deliberately so. In response, Micah said, ‘I will, my lord. I promise.’
‘Good.’ Robert turned his head slightly and a glint of early moonlight caught his eyes. ‘She’s coming.’
Micah mounted his horse and turned to face the tunnel. A moment later, Jenn emerged, extinguishing her light. She paused long enough to say goodbye to Patric and give him a brief hug. Then, ignoring Robert’s dark presence, she strode directly to her horse. She swung up into the saddle, sat tall and defiant, and then turned her gaze on Robert.
Neither of them said a word. There was no movement, no expression. No goodbyes – nothing. There was just the silence, punctuated only by the restlessness of the horses, the breeze in the gully. A film of cloud brushed over the moon and was gone, bringing them back into that pale blue glow, cold and empty.
Slowly Robert reached up and touched the neck of Jenn’s horse. Then, without a word, he turned on his heel and walked back to the tunnel, disappearing inside with not even a hand raised in farewell.
Jenn was the first to move. She kicked her horse and started up the side of the ravine. Shane and Keagan followed close behind while Micah brought up the rear. Reaching the top, they turned north and headed out into the bleak shadows of open moorland.
‘When you get back, Micah,’ Jenn spoke suddenly, drawing her horse alongside his, ‘I wonder if you would do something for me. It might be difficult. It all depends on how he’ll take it.’
‘Of course. I’ll try. What is it?’
‘Would you thank your father for me. He put a lot of trust in a complete stranger the other night. I don’t know what I would have done if he’d said no.’
Micah glanced at her, but only her voice gave anything away. ‘I’d love to know how you convinced him to come in the first place.’
‘That was simple. I told him who I was. I suppose he assumed that I wouldn’t be there asking for help if it wasn’t really important.’
Micah nodded. ‘He has a great respect for you. Your father stood firm against Selar, you see. Pledged him no oath of allegiance. Such things are very important to my father.’
‘Oh?’ Jenn murmured. ‘Then I suppose you’d better not tell him that I think Robert was entirely right doing what he did. We wouldn’t want to shatter his illusions now, would we?’
*
The land unfolded like parchment before them, brown at first, then glowing green as they reached Elita. Even the weather had been kind, with neither the nights nor the days too cold to bear. A little rain on the second day had them sheltering in a tavern. That’s where Micah had asked her about life at Elita. Sitting there opposite him, with his sparkling, mischievous eyes following her every statement, it was impossible not to reply. She told him all about the hospice, Brother Benedict – even how she’d come across Rosalind. It was good to talk to him again freely, without having to watch every word she said. What was even better was how Micah, Keagan and Shane got on. Almost complete opposites in character, Micah and Shane seemed to deliberately bait each other, making Keagan either grumble or laugh in response. It was this alone which made the journey bearable. With them talking together, Jenn could sit back and watch, listen or pay no attention. They didn’t require anything of her, nor demand any kind of response. Only Micah watched her from time to time.
Then, as a full moon broached the edge of dusk one day, they arrived at the ridge overlooking Elita. It was time for Micah to turn back.
‘You won’t go running off the moment I leave, will you?’ Micah asked slyly.
‘And where would I run to?’ Jenn replied with a nod at Shane and Keagan. ‘With these two trailing me every step of the way.’
Then he was riding back down the ridge, his hand raised in farewell, his laughter floating on the wind, and once again she felt alone.
The castle guard was alert to their arrival. The gate was opened and Neil was waiting in the courtyard. Jenn was barely off her horse before he took her to one side. ‘Welcome home, my lady. Your father awaits you in his study.’
He said nothing more, but a swell of uneasiness rolled in her stomach. She wanted to go up and wash first, change her travelling dress before she saw Jacob, but those few words from Neil stopped her. If Jacob was waiting, she had to go and see him.
He was alone, sitting in his customary chair by the fireplace. A letter lay on his lap, the wax seal hanging over his knee. He didn’t look up when she entered.
‘Close the door.’
Jenn did as she was told and moved closer to him. Her hands were cold and she wanted to get close to the fire, but didn’t dare.
‘I cannot tell you how disappointed I am in you. I cannot begin to express how much you’ve hurt me.’ Still Jacob didn’t look at her. ‘I took you back into this house, despite your background, hoping – believing – that you, born a Ross, would still be able to learn, to be schooled to take your place. Instead you’ve brought nothing but shame and dishonour down on us.’
Jenn’s stomach went cold and her hands began to shake. She wanted to say something, but knew that the moment she opened her mouth, Jacob’s icy tone would turn to fury.
Now, in the silence, he lifted his head and his eyes were like steel. ‘Where have you been?’
Still, Jenn could say nothing and Jacob continued, ‘I sent you a letter to Maitland. I wrote to remind you to be home in time for your anniversary celebrations. But you weren’t there, never had been. You’ve seen Dunlorn, haven’t you? Even after you promised you would never see him again. But it was just a lie, wasn’t it?’
Jenn broke at this. She sank to her knees, her hands reaching out to him. ‘Father, please listen to me. You don’t understand.’
‘Listen while you fabricate more things for me to believe? I had hoped Dunlorn had some honour left!’
Jenn wanted to run – not only from this room, but from everything. Everyone. But she couldn’t. Instead, she gripped her trembling hands together and tried to stop her voice from breaking.
‘Father, I didn’t intend to lie to you, but it all happened so quickly and Robert had nothing to do with my going . . .’
‘You really expect me to believe that!’ Jacob spat. ‘I don’t want to hear any more about the traitor!’
‘But you must, Father,’ Jenn whispered, swallowing the lump in her throat, ‘if I’m to tell you the truth.’
